#using both tags for a second for ease of reblogging. Thinking of making an art blog. - C

[uss-exile-ncc-440548]

@deepspacedukat I'm sorry this took so long, (many life things???), and it didn't come out quite the way I intended for a variety of reasons, but, Letant!

- Commander

Some day I will have a scanner and less weird angles. 😁

[behindyourbarrette]

like you a latte - matcha latte

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pairing: spencer reid x fem reader

a/n: SURPRISE i felt like dropping this a DAY early!!lololololol but here it is! i appreciate the love on the last two parts so so soooo much :) can’t beliEVE WE ARE HALFWAY DONE!! reblog if u enjoyed

—

Needless to say, Twilight Time isn’t very crowded on Thursday afternoons. 

You rarely pick up closing shifts anymore—for reasons totally unrelated to the doctor who almost exclusively arrives in the morning—but you’re covering for Sally, and it’s a nice day out. The rain has let up in favor of mild weather, the sun just barely peeking through the clouds as people drift past the shop. Despite the fact that there’s more foot traffic on the street, not many people come in to order. You don’t blame them. Why have hot coffee on a day like this?

Your back is turned when you hear a group enter, and your heart soars at the prospect of tips. For whatever reason, most people are more inclined to tip when they know their friends are watching. You call out to let them know you’ll be right with them, and after you’re done fidgeting with the settings of the coffee grinder, you turn. 

It’s Spencer. But he’s not alone.

There are a total of four people before you, each intimidating you in slightly different ways. They’re all agents, as evidenced by their not-so-concealed carries. You recognize a few of the characters. Spencer’s told you about JJ, who you assume to be the friendly blonde, and Penelope, who is a vision in fuchsia. That leaves Emily, who’s whispering to JJ, eyes fixed on you. You try to absorb the sight, them together. Spencer looks at ease, a wide smile on his face as he looks between you and the group.

“Hey, Spencer. These your coworkers?” You crack a nervous smile, knitting your fingers together. He nods, introducing them each in turn. JJ grins in your direction, and Penelope waves at you with a fingerlessly-gloved hand. Emily reaches across the bar to shake your hand. You get the sense that there’s something Spencer hasn’t told you.

“What can I get you guys?”

Spencer shrugs, defaulting to JJ and Emily. Penelope pipes up, eyes bright as she peers at the menu above you.

“Do you have matcha, sweetheart? I’ve been meaning to try that. It’s great for your skin.�� You nod, pulling a cup out and inscribing Penelope’s name on it. JJ and Emily both order americanos, exchanging a sheepish grin. After setting their cups aside, you turn to Spencer.

“Genius, you should really try the matcha. It’ll give you brain power. Not that you need any more.” Penelope does jazz hands to emphasize her excitement, and Spencer shrugs. You watch them interact for a moment before you realize he’s turned to you for your approval.

“Oh. I really like matcha. It’s green tea, and a matcha latte tastes light and sweet. I think you’d like it.” He nods, and orders it hot. Penelope orders iced; you smile as you consider that they compliment each other, eventually turning away to prepare everyone’s drinks. They’re all relatively simple, and you manage to include latte art in the hot drinks. Spencer’s is last, and you flick your wrist to finish the design. Crossing the bar, you hand each agent their drink in turn. 

Penelope sips at her drink first, the bright green matching one of her rings perfectly. Spencer eyes his dubiously, poking at it with a wooden stirring stick. 

“It’s very green.” He whispers to Penelope, who cackles in response. 

JJ catches your eye as you watch, lingering between the bar and their seats. With a smile, she waves you over. 

“You’ve totally ruined other coffee for Spence. We had to come try it for ourselves.” She whispers, leaning down. You aren’t sure how to feel about her tone; there’s a glint of something in her eye, something playfully secretive. You’re not sure what part of this you’re not in on.The idea of Spencer mentioning you at all is foreign—sure, you’ve told your roommates, and your coworkers found out that you do, in fact, have a favorite regular. Still, you never considered the idea that you bleed into other parts of his life. You steal a glance at him while JJ compliments her americano. He’s sipping at his matcha, a green mustache left behind. 

“You have a magic touch, Y/N. I don’t think I’ve ever had coffee this good in the states.” Emily flashes you a grin as if she can sense your nervousness. You relax a little, asking her about her work abroad instead of getting lost in your head. She strikes you as a diplomat, and a compliment from her feels like something to be savored. Penelope raves to you about the health benefits of matcha, and you immediately feel welcomed by her. If you were to run a study comparing the approachability between pink polka dots and pantsuits, you're sure that polka dots would win.

“Are you an agent, too?” You ask, stirring your own iced coffee with a straw. Eyeing the clock, you’ve decided that this counts as your break. Tyler be damned. Penelope giggles, shaking her head.

“Oh God no. Well, technically. I’m a technical analyst, so I work on the computer and tech end of things.” She explains, and you nod. It makes a lot of sense. While both JJ and Emily exude the energy of most cops—authoritative, with a critical eye—Garcia does’t fit that mold. It’s this that draws you to her.

You learn that JJ has a son named Henry, a surprisingly Southern boyfriend to match, and that Emily has a cat named Sergio. Despite their highbrow titles, you don’t feel out of place. It’s easy to sip at your coffee, the cup cool against your fingertips, and listen.

“Are you in school? Spence mentioned that you majored in literature.” JJ sets her cup down, flexing her fingers against the air. You feel yourself flush now that the attention is on you. The fact that he chose this detail to divulge sticks between your ribs. You haven't told him much about your work—he insisted on reading your thesis, and even reread the source material to better discuss it with you—but apparently, what you have discussed has made an impression.

“Yeah, actually. I’m in my second year of law school.” You admit. Emily nods in approval, reaching out to high five you.

“Damn. With all the assholes you deal with in customer service, you’ll make a great attorney.” You high five her with a small smile on your face, stealing a glance at Spencer. He seems elated, clearly enjoying the dynamic he’s observing.

“Do you want to go into criminal law?”

JJ asks, eyes wide with curiosity. You shake your head ruefully. They take it well, shrugging their shoulders. To their credit, their branch of law enforcement deals with the process prior to prosecution. You shudder at the idea of what happens after they catch the bad guys.

“No, not really. I’m looking at either the entertainment or environmental sector.”

The group murmurs, and the conversation devolves into small talk about law. You look to Spencer for an escape, and he suggests that they take a walk. Once the girls have trickled out of the room, each hugging you goodbye, you’re left alone with Spencer.

“Hey.”

You laugh at the simplicity of his greeting, turning to toss your empty coffee cup into the trash. Spencer flushes a deep shade of red, raking his hands through his hair.

“Your friends aren’t how I expected. Really cool, though. Especially for like, Quantico professionals.” You wipe the counter down, and the reality that you’re on the clock hits you, a little dizzily. Did his coworkers really just want to meet Spencer’s barista? The realization tastes a little bitter, and you bite back any further questioning in favor of looking up at him.

“Yeah. They’re like family.” He looks out the window, hands deep in his pockets. His whole demeanor is stiff, and you resist the urge to reach out and force his shoulders down from his ears.

“Did you like the matcha? I wasn’t sure you would. I used the oat milk you like.” Slowly, he relaxes. With a small smile, he nods.

“It was good. I like most teas, I’m finding. It wasn’t too sweet.” You add matcha to the mental list you keep, of drinks he likes. It’s become your mission to expand it. In the months since he started branching out, you’ve managed to add a few drinks to his core rotation. 

“You know you’re one of my friends too, right?”

This catches you off guard. You pause in the motion of sweeping the floor, carefully raising your eyes to meet his. While nervous, he sounds sincere. When met with your silence, he continues.

“I just wanted you to know.” 

You nod carefully. The implications of this are something you’ll consider later, when you’re alone. He’s only confirming something you’ve already known, but something about it stings. The word crosses your mind briefly, but it sticks. It’s bittersweet.

“I know.” Your voice is low, soft against the din of the coffee shop. Spencer doesn’t look satisfied, opening his mouth to say something then closing it again. He glances between you and the window.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

taglist:

@everyonesfavoritepipecleaner @coldlilheart @idonotexiste @aberrant-annie @onyourfingertips @bakugouswh0r3 @uptowngotmedown @infinite-tides @chaosconcerns @littlewritersinspace​ @okivia @forever-not-gonna-sink​ @insert-gay-here​ @just-another-persona123​ @winniemjf **if tags don’t work, check your visibility settings

[tchallasbabymama]

All For Us Chapter 9

Hey y’all, thanks for being patient with me on this one, but it’s finally done! Not to be the bearer of bad news or anything, but there’s only one chapter left (and maybe an epilogue) on our journey with Mira, Erik, and Cupcake. If you’re just here for Killmonger, I have a couple Erik oneshots heading y’all’s way in the next few weeks. Also, check out The Temple. 😉

As always, don’t forget to look at my masterlist to read my other stories and oneshots, and let me know if you want to be tagged in anything. Like, comment, and reblog away! 🥰

CW: a little smut

Word Count: 6,481

Erik’s eyes flew open as he bolted upright through the sand that covered his body in his temporary grave. He was in the heart of the temple where the Black Panther ceremony took place, the City of the Dead. The lost prince pulled himself from the sand and brushed the clay-colored sediment from around his eyes as he climbed the stone staircase leading up into the garden of the heart-shaped herb. When he made it to the top, Erik took a deep breath before stepping into the garden. To his surprise, nothing caught on fire like in his previous dreams. His shoulders relaxed as he took another step into the garden, and another, and another until he was face to face with Bast’s statue. A smile took over his face as he knelt at her feet.

“Took you long enough, Jaguar.”

Erik lifted his head, and her celestial glow nearly blinded him as he laid his eyes on the panther goddess once more.

“Long enough for what?”

“For your senses to come back, obviously.” Bast circled him and laid down, licking her paw. “Pretty soon, you won’t have to be asleep to talk to me.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“Oh, I had nothing to do with it.”

Erik turned to face her and sat back on his heels.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I never took them away. You did.”

“I’m not following.”

“Your guilt blocked your senses, Erik,” she sighed. “You had been holding onto pieces of it, but you finally let it go.”

“I felt guilty for ruining our marriage,” Erik mused aloud.

“But you didn’t, so congratulations,” she said nonchalantly. “That’s not why you’re here, though.”

“Ok, what’s up?”

Bast chuckled at his informality.

“Last time we spoke, I said I would need you to do something for me. I’ve finally made up my mind as to what that is.”

Erik sat with bated breath as he waited for his assignment. For a moment, he was reminded of his military and mercenary days, except this time, he was being given a mission from a goddess. His goddess.

“As you know, Wakanda has never had a Golden Jaguar before. You are an anomaly, but that is a good thing.” She stood up and started walking, making him rush to his feet to follow after her.

“It is?”

“Yes. You know, the good thing about cycles is that with destruction comes rebirth…change. You’ve forced Wakanda to change, and you’ve forced me to think some things over. Truthfully, after the little stunt you almost pulled, I did think about removing your powers. I don’t need to preach about it, though, since you already know all about your wrongdoings, but I heard what you said about your people. We have neglected them, and for that, I have no words of apology that would adequately ease your pain. The Lost Tribe, as my people have come to call you, needs a champion. Wakanda already has theirs, but since you seem to rather enjoy toying with colonizers, I have an assignment for you.”

Erik’s ears were trained on Bast as he hung on every word she said. He walked next to her as they made their way through the catacombs towards the temple’s entrance.

“Before you came to Wakanda, you were involved with Klaue and his hunt for vibranium. Your vast knowledge of African and diasporic artifacts combined with your training makes a great equation for what I need you to do.”

“Which is?”

“I want you to act as the Golden Jaguar on the Lost Tribe’s behalf. I recognize that as just one person, you can only do so much, which is why I will talk to T’Challa about you heading his Wardog program. I would like for you to have an army of spies at your disposal to act instead of just watch and report as they have done in the past.”

“So basically what I wanted to do before but without the world domination?”

“Precisely,” Bast chuckled and stopped walking at the door to the temple.

“Ok,” Erik thought on it as a smile crept up his cheeks. “I’ll do it.”

“I knew you would. I think you’ll like my first assignment. Well, second. First, you need to stop avoiding the City of the Dead in your waking life. You need to go visit the garden.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Erik said, his nerves twisting in his gut at the thought of actually stepping back onto the sacred land.

“Now, my second assignment: artifact reclamation. Instead of searching for vibranium, which you might find, I want you to return items to their rightful owners.”

“So, stealing,” Erik deadpanned.

“Yes, but for a good cause. I will let you work out the details, but the point is to return the power to the people by building them back up, brick by brick. They were separated from their gods, so the Ancestors and the Orishas are working on bringing them back to us spiritually. They are still working on getting other spirits and pantheons on board...alas, my brother and sisters are choosing to take a more passive approach.” She sighed. “The Lost Tribe was taken from the land, so T’Challa has already spearheaded initiatives to build up other African countries that need his assistance and bring the Lost home to the continent. Now, I need you to bring our belongings home. Our thrones, our art, our history. Take it back. Bring it back to its rightful place.”

“I’m with it, but, um...how am I supposed to do this without getting caught? If shit just starts disappearing en masse, somebody’s gonna notice.”

“They won’t disappear. The colonizers won’t even know they’re gone.” Bast flicked her tail mischievously. “Your wife designs kimoyo beads, does she not?”

“Well, yeah-”

“And your cousins are scientific geniuses, correct?”

“Yes…”

“Then I’m sure that between all of your big beautiful brains, you can figure out a way to make replicas of the artifacts.”

“Why does that compliment feel like an insult?”

“I like you, Jaguar,” The goddess chuckled. “Now go enjoy your time with your wife.” She winked at Erik as she nudged him out into the brightness shining from outside the wide-open temple doors. Erik returned to consciousness, and he was shocked by the feeling of Mira’s mouth traveling up and down his shaft.

“Fuck, girl. This how you waking Big Daddy up now?”

She popped her head off his tip, and he groaned at the sight of a bridge of spit still connecting her to him.

“Good morning, baby.”

“Mmmm, good morning to you, too,” he grabbed her loose curls that she had forgotten to tie up the night before. The silk sheets kept her hair soft and bouncy as her hair spilled over his fist while it rested at the back of her head. He pulled her in for a kiss, and then she went right back to taking him down her throat. “You’re gonna make me nut all down that throat, Princess.”

Mira’s hand cupped and massaged his ballsack while she sucked on his bulbous head. Her tongue swirled around the tip, and her other hand traveled up and down his length, making his toes curl.

“Fuuuuck, you remember just what Big Daddy likes. Imma bust a fat ass nut, girl,” Erik groaned through gritted teeth. Mira giggled at her control over him and continued to work his dick. Her nose reached his pelvis as she took him down her throat, and he came with such force that she almost choked. Almost.

When she pulled off of him, she tongue-kissed his tip before sitting back on her haunches and wiping her mouth. “How’d you sleep?”

Erik let out a breathy laugh, “Like the dead.”

“Yeah, I’m surprised you didn’t feel me moving. You were out cold.”

“That’s because I was talking to Bast.”

“What’d she say this time?”

Erik sat up against the headboard and motioned for her to come to him. Mira crawled up his body and straddled him, sliding down on his dick so that they were connected as deep as they could be. They had always been like this; whenever they needed to have a serious conversation, Erik would set her in his lap and have her take all of him. They both reveled in the connection they had in that moment, and even in their stillness, their united bodies responded to each other as the words fell from his lips.

“She wants me to be the Golden Jaguar officially,” he said as he kissed down from Mira’s ear to her shoulder.

“What does that mean?” Mira asked, barely above a whisper.

“She wants me to be a champion for us, the Lost Tribe. Wakandans have T, so I’ll be protecting the rest of us with the Wardogs.”

“How, though? That’s so many people.”

He came up from kissing between her breasts to look her in the eyes. “Well, remember how I told you about the museum heist to get the vibranium?”

Mira nodded.

“She wants me to steal artifacts from museums and shit and return them to where they were stolen from.”

“That sounds right up your alley,” Mira snarked, and he tickled her sides, making her pussy clench around him, and he let out a groan at the feeling. He grabbed her hips and moved them back and forth.

“It is. I can’t do anything until I visit the garden of the heart-shaped herb, though.”

“Why?” she moaned.

“I’ve been avoiding it,” he sighed.

Mira pulled him into a kiss and cycloned her hips as she wound on him. “Do you need to go alone, or do you want me to come with you?”

He connected their foreheads as he pushed his hips forward into her, and she called out his name.

“I need to go alone.”

Their hips ground into each other as the sexual energy inside them built up slowly and erupted through their bodies. Erik placed kisses all over Mira’s face and neck as she caught her breath from the intensity of her orgasm.

“How about I make breakfast?” Erik asked, and Mira simply nodded and kissed him. She moved to get up, but he held her down. “Nah, I didn’t say right now.”

After another round, the two of them separated from each other, if only because of the rumbling of their bellies. They showered together, and Erik couldn’t help himself from bending her over and eating her pussy and ass from the back. Pretty soon, he was balls deep inside her again, and when he came all over her cheeks, he about keeled over from the way the orgasm shook through his body.

“Aight, I need a break,” Erik said, and the two of them shared a laugh as they finished their shower without any more funny business.

“Can I have one of your t-shirts?” Mira asked as they slathered themselves in shea butter.

“You can have anything you want, Princess. MIT or Navy?”

“MIT please,” she cheesed at him.

“Coming right up.”

Erik left the room and returned with his maroon-colored MIT t-shirt. The same one she wore the first time she stayed over at his apartment back in the day. He knew it was her favorite and the look on her face when he handed it to her was priceless. She quickly shimmied into it while he slid on a pair of sweatpants that left little to the imagination.

The two of them relocated to the kitchen, and Mira toyed around with her latest kimoyo design on her tablet while Erik got to work on breakfast.

“That a new one?” he asked, nodding towards the design hovering over the counter.

“Yeah, I haven’t gotten it to work right, though,” she grumbled as she stared at it. “I want it to be able to apply cloaking tech to whatever it touches, but so far, I can only get the bead to disappear.”

Erik listened to her complain about her failed design for a little while, and when she was done, she turned off the tablet and hopped up on the counter.

“Anything I can do?” Mira asked

“Mhm,” he came over and stood between her legs, placing a sloppy kiss on her lips. “Just sit there looking fine as hell.”

“I’m serious,” she smiled.

“So am I,” he said incredulously with a hand over his heart, making her chuckle at his dramatics.

“Fine, I’ll be your muse.”

“And my guinea pig. Here, try this.”

Erik lifted the spoon to her lips so she could taste the yam hash he had been working on, and her eyes bugged out of her head.

“I forgot you turn into Top Chef after sex.”

“Gotta feed my woman,” he kissed her cheek and cracked a couple of eggs sunny-side up in the skillet.

Mira giggled, and an idea struck her. She reached back for her tablet again and pulled up her latest work in progress, a story about a decades-long whirlwind romance that she had gotten stuck on. All she needed was a little inspiration, and Erik ended up being just what she needed.

He watched his wife type away with a smile on his face. Erik loved watching her work; the look of determination on her face was always so endearing to him. She’d bite her lip and squint her eyes as she tried her best to focus on the task at hand. Erik always thought it was adorable.

The smell of fresh vegetables coming in contact with hot oil filled the air, and Mira’s mouth started to water. She looked up from her work to see what Erik was doing but got distracted by his body. She watched his sinewy muscles moving beneath his textured skin, and a chill went down her spine.

“What the fuck is that?” Erik sniffed the air, following the sweet scent that had just wafted from out of nowhere.

“What’s what?” Mira asked, swinging her legs back and forth.

He turned to face her, and his pupils blew wide as the smell hit him again.

“It’s you,” he turned off the burner and stalked over to her, standing between her legs again and placing his nose in the crook of her neck. He inhaled her scent and let out a growl.

“What is that?”

“My bodywash?”

“Nah, it’s you. What-” he cut himself off when it dawned on him. When he was king for a day, he only smelled fear from those around him. Fear smelled like decay, it smelled rotten, but this was the exact opposite. It was enticing, like the most beautiful forbidden garden, and Erik knew exactly what it was. Her arousal. He bit into her neck, making her moan out as he ground his hips into hers. The aroma grew, and Erik’s composure slipped away the more he inhaled it.

“E-erik, the food.”

He took a deep breath as he stood to his full height. “I can smell when you want me.”

“What?!”

“I wonder if it’s different for every person...shit, I wonder if I can smell other people. I hope not-”

“What are you saying? You can tell when I’m horny?”

“I guess so. I only smelled fear before, but it makes sense. I’m just caught off guard because it hit me out of nowhere, like last night.”

“What happened last night?”

“I could hear your heartbeat.”

Mira’s face lit up, “That’s good, though, right? It means your senses are coming back!”

“Yeah, I’m just surprised by that one. I wasn’t expecting all that,” he laughed.

“So...I smell good?”

“You don’t know how good, Princess,” he grumbled as he finished cooking. Mira crossed her legs, making him chuckle. “That’s not helping. It’s all over you.”

“Damn...what else can you do?”

“I need to test out my strength and speed, but my sight was different, too. Everything was brighter, more vibrant. And my brain moved faster...I don’t know how to explain it. Bast said my guilt was the blockage, so they’ll probably slowly come back over time. After they’re back, I’m supposed to start on my mission.”

“You still felt guilty?”

“I thought I broke us. I mean, I did, but I felt like it was unfixable, you know?”

Mira nodded, “Yeah, it felt like that sometimes.”

Erik pulled the dishes out of the cabinet and set them down next to her.

“Mira, I’m-”

“Erik, if you say you’re sorry one more time, so help me, Bast,” Mira said, making a dimpled smile appear on Erik’s face.

“Yes, ma’am.”

They fell into a comfortable silence while Erik plated the food, and when he handed Mira hers, he left a kiss on her cheek. She smiled and hopped down from the counter to sit at the table. When she sat down, she couldn’t help but stare at Erik as he walked over. Her man, her formerly violent man was really chosen by a goddess to protect Black people around the globe.

He noticed the look on her face and couldn’t quite place it. “What?”

“Nothing, just...look at you, doing the work of gods now.”

“I bet you never thought you’d say that about your mercenary husband,” Erik winked at her.

“Sure didn’t,” Mira laughed, “but it fits. You always had it in you. You know, I’m glad I came out here. I wouldn’t get to see this new side of you otherwise, and so far, I like it.”

--------

A couple of hours later, Erik found himself in front of the City of the Dead with his palms sweating and his breath shaking. He wasn’t sure why the temple unnerved him so much, but it did. Erik knew he had to do what Bast told him, though, and took a step forward. He climbed the stairs to the ornate stone doors and waited as they slowly opened for him. Erik was met with the sight of a surprisingly calm woman in purple robes. He recognized her as the woman he had choked out, the new head priestess.

“My prince,” she saluted him. “Welcome. I have been expecting you.”

“You have?”

“Of course. Come in.”

He hesitantly stepped forward again and entered the temple. A chill went down his spine as the doors shut behind them, and he looked around the space. He had only been there once before in his waking life, but this time it felt different. It probably had something to do with the fact that she wasn’t scared of him this time around.

“What’s your name?” he asked nervously.

“I am Zaya, my prince.”

“You don’t have to do the whole ‘my prince’ thing. Especially since I...you know.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“I’m sorry about that. I should’ve never put my hands on you.”

“I have spoken to Bast about it, and I forgive you. Just don’t let it happen again,” she warned.

Erik put his hands up in defense, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good. Now, you are here to see the herb, no?” She started walking, and he followed behind her.

“How’d you know?”

“I spoke to Bast, remember?” She quipped with an eyebrow raised.

“Heh, yeah,” he chuckled nervously and cleared his throat. “I don’t know why I’m so anxious.”

“I assume that is a normal reaction when reckoning with your past.”

The two of them traveled deeper into the temple, and when they reached the door that led to the garden of the heart-shaped herb, he froze. Zaya looked back when she no longer heard his footsteps and smiled warmly, reaching out her hand to him. He took it, and she led him through the doors. Erik almost wanted to close his eyes, but he knew he had to face his past actions head-on.

He looked around, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw there were dozens of tiny glowing purple buds just begging to become full-grown flowers. He laughed in disbelief at what he was seeing. He had burnt the garden to ashes, but now here it was, thriving in spite of him.

“It took us a while to get them to grow again, but thankfully we were able to put out the fire before the roots were harmed,” Zaya spoke as he wandered through the garden in awe.

“And these...they still work?”

“The princess took a sample and tested it in her lab. According to her, this new batch might be a little different, but they should still work. Bast has given them her blessing, so that is enough for me.”

“So, I didn’t ruin Wakanda’s future like I thought...”

“No, just a bump in the road,” she smiled.

Just as he was about to respond, the strangest thing happened. His eyes were trained on one of the buds, and suddenly he could see every little vein in the leaves and the detail of the curled-up petals. The color became brighter and even more purple than most people could comprehend, and a tear rolled down his cheek as he smiled.

He could see again.

“Are you ok?” Zaya asked tentatively.

Erik cleared his throat, “Yeah, I’m good. It’s just my senses are coming back, and...they’re beautiful.”

“And resilient.”

He laughed and wiped the tear from his face.

“How about I give you some time alone?”

“Thanks, Zaya, that’d be great.”

She bowed her head in deference and went back the way they came. When she was gone, Erik let out a sigh as he took in the sight before him.

“They really made it…”

“Of course, they did. Did you think I would leave my people defenseless?” Bast’s silky voice rang out through the temple, and he turned around to see her standing there in her mostly-human form. She was a statuesque and curvaceous woman with the head of a panther and locs that spilled over her ebony shoulders. Erik dropped to his knees as she walked towards him. “No need for all of that. Stand up, Jaguar.”

He laid eyes on her once more as he rose from the ground. Her glow was almost blinding, but his eyes adjusted quickly.

“I can’t believe I’m seeing you in person.”

“Get used to it. I like to pop in on my champions every now and again. Sometimes in dreams, sometimes in your thoughts, and sometimes in person. It all depends.”

“On what?”

“On you and what you need, or what I need from you.”

“Ok, so what do you need from me?”

Bast chuckled. “Truthfully, nothing this time. I just needed to see you face-to-face.”

“You don’t have an assignment for me?”

“Not yet. I know how much you enjoy the sanctuary, so I’ll let you stay there a little whille longer. Plus, you are just now mending your marriage and need time to spend with your wife and child before I call you away.”

“How much time?”

“Enough,” she winked.

“You’re so cryptic,” Erik chuckled.

“Yes, your cousin thinks so, too. However, I prefer ‘mysterious.’”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smirked.

“Well, I don’t want to keep you long,” she sighed. “You have some party planning to do. They grow up fast, don’t they?”

“Especially when you miss a couple of years,” he murmured.

“Which is why I’m giving you at least a year before I call on you. Make good use of it, Erik.”

“Yes, ma’am, I will.”

“Good. Oh, and one more thing, Erik.”

“Yeah?”

“Try running back to the palace,” she winked again as she shimmered away, leaving him alone in the temple.

Erik tried to contain himself as he left the garden and ran into Zaya.

“Was your ‘alone’ time fruitful?” she asked knowingly.

All he could do was beam at her with his megawatt dimpled smile.

“Very.”

Erik said goodbye and ran back through the forest to the city, his heart beating out of his chest in excitement. His superhuman speed carried him back in no time as the wind whipped against his body. A smile was plastered on his face the whole time, even when he slowed down as he reached the outskirts of Birnin Zana. He hurried to the palace as inconspicuously as he could and happened to run into Mira just as she was leaving. When she saw the look on his face, she couldn’t help the grin that took over hers.

“So, how did- Erik!” She squealed as he picked her up and twirled her around with barely any effort.

“They’re back!”

“Your powers?”

“Well, yeah, but the heart shaped herb is coming back!” he peppered kisses all over her face and neck while she giggled. “You’re more beautiful than I ever imagined you could be.”

“So I take it your vision came back, and you’re super strong again?”

“And fast. I ran here in like twenty minutes.”

“From the CIty of the Dead?!”

“Mhm,” he nodded as he set her back on the ground.

“Damn, baby, that’s...that’s amazing.”

“I need to test them out some more, so I’m gonna see if T has some time to spar. You going to the lab?”

“Shopping, actually. Okoye and Ayo took Imani so I could get some last-minute party stuff.”

“Need someone to carry your bags?”

“Oh, hell yeah. Especially since you got that jaguar strength again.”

“Lead the way, beautiful.”

--------

Early that Saturday morning, as the sun crested over the trees, Mira and Erik stood on the tarmac watching as the Royal Talon descended from the sky. Mira was almost shaking with excitement as the doors opened and T’Challa stepped out, followed by some of her favorite people in the whole world.

“Titi!”

SJ ran down the ramp past the king and flung himself into his auntie’s arms. She held him tight and rocked him from side to side as Stef and Ana approached, with Daveed teetering between the two of them.

She looked up at them and gasped, “Oh my god, he can walk now? How long have I been gone?”

“Girl, too long,” Havana complained as she wrapped her arms around her sister-in-law.

Stefan was next to greet her, and his eyes stayed glued to Erik the whole time as he enveloped his sister in a bear hug, “We missed you, Sammy.”

“No, you miss my cooking,” she laughed as she crouched down to say hi to her littlest nephew.

“You remember Titi Mira?” Ana asked him, and he shook his head, hiding behind his dad’s leg.

“That’s ok, we can get to know each other while you’re here,” Mira smiled at him and stood back up.

“Who are you?” SJ asked when he finally noticed the man standing behind his aunt.

“SJ, this is your Uncle Erik. You might not remember him but-“

He thought about it for a moment before it dawned on him. “Do you still have all those bumps on you?”

Stefan tried to hold in his snickering, and Havana hit him in his chest.

“Uh, yeah, I do.”

“That’s so cool!”

“Heh, thanks, lil man.”

“So, brother in law…It’s good to see you,” Stef deadpanned. He was clearly not feeling Erik anymore.

“You, too, man,” Erik went to dap him up, and he stared at his hand in contempt.

“Stefan, behave,” Havana said with a roll of her eyes. “Hi Erik, how are you?”

“Much better since I’ve been here.”

“Good, good…”

T’Challa had been standing to the side while the family reunited but decided to intervene when things got awkward.

“Stefan, Havana, let us show you to your quarters.”

“Oooh, our ‘quarters,’” Ana sang excitedly. “Sounds so fancy.”

“It’s a palace, Ana. Of course it’s fancy,” Stef grumbled.

She cut her eyes at him. “Don’t act out in front of company.”

Mira chuckled. She hadn’t realized how much she missed hearing their playful bickering.

As they made their way through the place, Stef and Ana stared slack-jawed at their surroundings while SJ ran ahead of the group.

“You live here?” Ana asked.

“Mhm. It’s gorgeous, right?!” Mira bragged.

“That’s not even the word…”

T’Challa smirked as he listened to them compliment his home.

“So, where’s the birthday girl?” Stefan asked.

“She is with my mother and Ororo.”

“Ororo?” Stef stopped in his tracks. “Munroe?!”

“The one and only,” T’Challa grinned proudly.

“Holy shit…”

“Language,” Havana chided her husband as she covered SJ’s ears.

“What is it with these men and cursing around children?” Mira shook her head at her brother.

“Girl, I don’t know, but let’s get back to Storm. How’d y’all meet?”

“She’s his girlfriend,” Erik nodded towards his cousin.

“Dang, how’d you get her? I mean, I know you’re a king and all, but- Wait, are you a mutant, too?” Stef asked.

T’Challa and Mira made eye contact, and she nodded for him to continue. They were family and would most likely be seeing a lot of Wakanda, so they’d find out eventually.

“I am enhanced, yes.”

“Like Steve Rogers?” SJ chimed in excitedly from a few feet ahead.

“He wishes,” T’Challa complained under his breath as they stopped in front of the door across from Erik and Mira. Both of them chuckled at the king’s arrogance.

“So...you’re enhanced. Why, though?” Stef asked.

They entered the suite, and the interrogation was cut short when the Greenwoods saw how beautiful their temporary home was.

“Holy shit…” Ana mused as she covered SJ’s ears.

Mira gave them a quick tour while T’Challa and Erik hung back in the living area.

“So, you and Stefan-”

“He never liked me, and I made things worse by disappearing,” he shrugged.

T’Challa nodded as he changed into his suit.

“Oh, so you’re coming all the way out?”

“They will find out eventually, so I might as well get it over with.”

Erik nodded as Mira rounded the corner and saw T’Challa in his suit. She smirked and called SJ. He ran back into the room and froze when he saw Black Panther standing there next to his uncle. Ana was next to round the corner and looked at her son questioningly before she looked up and saw what he was staring at with his mouth open.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said with a hand on her hip.

“About what?” Stef came next, and T’Challa’s mask disappeared into his necklace. “This place is insane.”

SJ couldn’t move. He was looking at his favorite hero in the entire world, right there in the place he’d call home for the next week. His mind could barely wrap around what he was seeing, and he couldn’t process his emotions. Tears started flowing down his face, and a sob wracked his body.

“Hey, hey. It’s ok, baby,” Ana crouched down and wiped his tears as Stef came over with Daveed on his hip.

“You’re not excited to see Black Panther?” He asked his eldest son.

SJ shook his head, and T’Challa deflated. Erik kept his snickering to himself, but Mira shot him a look anyway.

“I am sorry. I didn’t mean to upset him.”

“He’s just in shock. It’ll wear off eventually,” Ana said as she brushed SJ’s locs out of his face.

————

It took way longer to wear off than they thought, and by the time they arrived at the party venue in the palace’s botanical gardens that afternoon, he still hadn’t said a word. T’Challa tried to speak to him a couple of times, but he shied away behind Mira or his parents. Eventually, Erik convinced him to give the kid some space and pulled the dejected king away to the other side of the garden. While the other kids and their parents arrived, SJ kept looking at T’Challa out of the corner of his eye.

“You know, he doesn’t bite...or scratch,” Mira leaned in and said to her nephew as she sat down next to him at the kid’s table. “In fact, he’s pretty cool once you get to know him.”

“Does Imani know?” he spoke up for the first time in hours, and Mira was happy to hear his voice again.

“Oh, yeah. He told us when we got here, but it’s a secret so she pinky promised not to tell. You know, I screamed when I saw him.”

“You did?!”

“Mhm. He really needs to learn how to ease people into it, huh?” she asked as she poked at his side, making him giggle. Stef and Ana watched from a few yards away and smiled with him while they kept a watchful eye on Daveed as he waddled around the flowers.

SJ nodded in response, and Mira kissed his temple before getting up and leaving him to ponder her words. Right when he had worked up the courage to speak to his hero, Erik announced that Imani was on her way with Ororo and Ramonda.

“I can’t wait to see my baby girl!” Ana squealed.

Mira excitedly grabbed Erik’s hand, and he kissed her knuckles, making Stef narrow his eyes as he and his family hid behind a mango tree.

Imani appeared with her auntie and future cousin, and T’Challa recorded as she squealed excitedly at seeing everybody. A’Kidi, Kofi, Sanaa, A’Sami, Ade, and all her other friends from school greeted her with a loud “Happy birthday!” The newly five-year-old’s tunnel vision made her almost ignore her parents and other adults completely until Erik picked her up and gave her a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

“Happy birthday, Cupcake!”

“We have a surprise for you,” Mira sang.

“What is it?” Imani asked excitedly.

Erik set her down and turned her around as Mira motioned for her family to reveal themselves. SJ ran out from behind the tree and nearly tackled his cousin to the ground while her aunt, uncle, and baby cousin took a calmer approach.

“There’s the birthday girl!” Stef exclaimed while his eldest son continued to squeeze her tight. SJ let her go, and she ran into her uncle’s arms. Ana crouched down next to him, and Imani threw her arms around her neck.

“We’ve missed you so much!” Ana said as she fought tears.

“I missed you too. Wakanda is so cool! I can’t wait to show you everything,” Imani babbled.

“Did you know about Black Panther?” SJ asked, still a little nervous about meeting his hero.

Imani nodded, “I promised to keep it a secret, or I would’ve told you. It’s so cool, right?”

SJ nodded, and Imani dragged him off to meet her friends.

Erik couldn’t keep the smile off his face if he tried as he watched his little social butterfly play with her friends and cousin. It wasn’t until Mira came up and nudged him that he even realized he was staring.

“You ok?” she asked.

“Hm? Yeah, I’m fine,” he said as he put his arm around her and kissed her temple. “Just reliving some things.”

Mira looked at him curiously and he continued, “One of the few good memories I have from childhood that we talked about in therapy was my seventh birthday party. This kind of reminds me of that.”

Mira smiled as they stood there and watched Shuri, Ororo, and T’Challa play with the kids. The king regaled them with stories of his adventures, and Shuri let them ride on very slow hoverbikes while Ororo harnessed the wind to lift them up and let them fly a couple of feet off of the ground. The kids were having a ball, and their parents seemed to enjoy themselves as well. Okoye, M’Baku, and a couple other people gravitated towards each other and fell into conversation about being single parents. However, the rest of them spent most of their time ogling the royal family.

Eventually, it was time to eat and the parents were able to corral the kids into sitting down at the table. After stuffing their faces with an array of Imani’s favorite foods, Mira led the “happy birthday” song as she and Ayo carried out a huge Doc McStuffins birthday cake. Imani and SJ were the only kids who knew who she was, but everyone enjoyed the cake nonetheless. Erik couldn’t help the tear that almost came to his eye as he listened to his wife sing to their daughter, just like his mother had done to him. Loudly and slightly off key. Next, Shuri led the group in a Wakandan birthday song, and Imani blew out the huge number five candle in the center of the cake.

Mira kept stealing glances at Erik as he sliced it up and handed out pieces to everyone. He looked so happy. Even when one of the kids tripped and got icing all over his pants leg, he just kept on smiling.

Even Stef noticed the change in his brother-in-law’s demeanor and brought it up to Ana, “He smiles too much now. It’s weird.”

“It’s weird that he’s happy?”

“No, it’s just weird to see. He used to be so…”

“Surly and unapproachable.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Maybe you should get to know him?”

“Hmph,” he grunted in response. Ana decided to leave it alone for the time being and left his side to go talk to Erik.

“You think you can handle the sleepover?” she asked him.

“Thank Bast it’s not all of them.”

“It’s not?”

“Hell no, just her little crew,” he pointed to A’Kidi, Kofi, Sanaa, A’Sami, and Ade. “I’m not taking care of all these kids.”

Ana laughed, “Understood.”

“So...your husband still doesn’t like me, huh?”

“Can you blame him?” Ana deadpanned.

“Nah, I’d be the same way in his shoes.”

“He’ll come around eventually...maybe,” she said as she placed a comforting hand on his arm before being pulled away by her son to watch the Black Panther and Storm show off their powers some more. SJ still couldn’t bring himself to speak to T’Challa, but it was a start.

As the party wound down and most of Imani’s classmates went home, the few that stuck around relocated inside to the Stevens’ suite in the palace. Even with a handful of screaming children in his home, Erik was on cloud nine. He loved to see a smile on his Cupcake’s face, and he wondered if he looked that happy when he was a kid. He concluded he probably did, and as the kids watched an animated movie, he and Mira curled up on the couch behind them. While the rugrats were distracted, he pulled her chin up to plant a kiss on her lips.

“What was that for?” she smiled.

“I’ve just been thinking…”

“About what?”

“About making more good memories, you know? Some of the happiest times in my life were times just like this…and time spent with you.”

Mira looked down with a smile on her face and he brought it back up to look in her eyes.

“Marry me again.”

Her eyebrows damn near reached her hairline and a Grinch-like smile crept up her face as she nodded.

“I’d love to.” Next Chapter

Taglist: @ladymac82, @kitesatforestp, @harleycativy, @raysunshine78, @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me, @toni9, @bribrisback

[galaxywhump]

I posted 1452 times in 2021

388 posts created (27%)

1064 posts reblogged (73%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 2.7 posts.

I added 954 tags in 2021

#asks - 290 posts

#good stuff - 178 posts

#prompts - 80 posts

#tropes - 70 posts

#marti talks - 69 posts

#ask games - 62 posts

#anonymous - 55 posts

#art - 53 posts

#visual - 49 posts

#memes - 48 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#recipes use stuff like pancake mix or cinnamon roll dough that's not available in your country and there's no info about what goes in those

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

"Smile, darling," Daniel said as he held up the camera

cw: slavery whump, creepy/intimate whumper, defiant whumpee, pet names, humiliation, muzzles, swearing.

"Smile, darling," Daniel said as he held up the camera.

“Meow, darling,” Berkeley added, and his stupid grin only grew wider when Wren glared at him, not that it had much impact - not when he was kneeling on the couch, hands flat in front of him, feeling the infuriating scratching of the plastic band with cat ears on his head, Berkeley’s worst gift yet.

“Fuck you both,” he spat, his humiliation so overpowering that at that moment he wasn’t thinking about Berkeley’s opinion on his swearing.

“Oooh, aren’t you hissy,” he cooed, walking up to the coffee table to pick something up, holding it up and shaking it lightly to get Wren’s attention, “good thing I’ve got something that will help.”

Wren’s face was burning when Berkeley pressed the muzzle to his face and buckled it, tightening it far more than necessary; he was used to muzzles, but not when they had fucking whiskers drawn on them, and considering his tormentors’ reaction, their hearty laughter, he must have looked just as ridiculous as he felt.

“Happy late Halloween, sweetheart,” Daniel chuckled, clicking the shutter a few times, immortalizing the absurd sight, and Wren wasn’t sure what was worse - the humiliation or the way his stomach sank at that innocuous mention of just how much time had passed since he was thrown into this nightmare.

57 notes • Posted 2021-11-03 18:28:35 GMT

#4

It has officially been one year since I created this blog! :D

63 notes • Posted 2021-01-30 18:13:02 GMT

#3

Awake and Alive

[Masterlist]

Timeline: Escape arc, set after No Other Way.

cw: slavery whump, rescue, hospital setting (medbay on a spaceship), referenced stabbing, wounds, swearing, creepy/intimate and deranged whumper, knocked out.

~~~

Wren’s consciousness tries to surface a few times. Harsh lights tear their way under his eyelids, he hears voices, talking above him, muffled, unintelligible. Those moments never last long enough for him to become fully aware of his surroundings; his mind retreats back into darkness.

And then he wakes up, confused and weak, every nerve in his body itching, every sensation increased tenfold.

He wakes up.

“Lieutenant Rackham?”

He grimaces at the sound of the word he hasn’t heard in ages, and the voice he doesn’t recognize, which only makes him more confused with how out of place it is. What is even happening? How did he get here, and where is “here”? He was…

In Daniel’s arms, crying and begging as the knife slipped into his body with ease, he was dying, so how-

He opens his eyes with a gasp as the realization hits him with the force of a tsunami.

I’m alive?

(...)

72 notes • Posted 2021-10-10 14:58:42 GMT

#2

Hope

[Masterlist]

Timeline: set after Pushing Forward.

Welcome to the escape arc!

cw: slavery whump, forced relationship whump, creepy/intimate whumper, defiant whumpee, mention of noncon kissing, referenced character death, swearing, mild struggling to breathe.

~~~

Every single day he’s forced to look at the communicator, his hope. Sometimes his fingers brush over it, and he doesn’t give it a second thought. It’s there, teasing him, it’s right there, and yet he’s been unable to use it.

It seems easy, in theory. Attack Daniel, outsmart him. Defeat him, knock him out, tie him up, rip the communicator off his wrist, force his finger on the fingerprint scanner, threaten or torture him into revealing the code; but it’s still too much of a risk - I’ve been brainwashed into thinking that - and so he waits for an opportunity. Continues to bring Daniel’s guard down. Watches every single night as Daniel goes through his routine - taking the communicator off, putting it in the drawer of the nightstand, then securing it with an electronic padlock. Another code Wren doesn’t know. Another difficulty to overcome, somehow.

When Daniel turns around, smiles at him, pulls him closer, kisses him, Wren’s eyes remain fixed on the drawer. Salvation is right there, behind the padlock, the code, the fingerprint scanner, and that to him is the worst torture of all.

And then, one day, the drawer seems to be unlocked.

(...)

74 notes • Posted 2021-04-20 11:15:30 GMT

#1

Wrong Place, Wrong Time

[Masterlist]

This is a concept I’ve been toying with since January, but it never turned into anything more fleshed out. Inspiration suddenly struck, so here it is now. I’m not promising anything, the story’s more or less just a loose idea, but I’d love to do more with it.

cw: hero/villain whump, hero whumper, winged villain whumpee, defiant whumpee, capture, falling from a height, pinned down, struggling to breathe, restraints, drugging, needles, police, implied future captivity, alcohol mention, swearing.

~~~

When Oscar was caught, air left his lungs.

For a split second he felt relieved in a strange, detached way - the panic that was pushing him forward as he zigzagged between buildings was suddenly cut short when his pursuer caught up to him, when cold metal wound around his wings, pulling him down. His eyes went wide and his stomach sank as he was stopped mid-motion, and the fear accompanying the realization that he’d been caught finally rang in his mind.

No.

He flailed wildly, trying to free his wings, the last desperate attempt to free himself before he had to put his hands forward to break his fall, but once again his breath was knocked out of him when he hit the concrete. When he tried to get up despite the metal rope keeping his wings stretched out on the ground, there was a strange whooshing sound and something, two somethings, landed on him, pinned his neck and legs down, stopping him when he flinched violently.

No!

He tried to push himself upright, but whatever it was that was holding him down was merciless, and he closed his eyes and panted into the wet concrete. He’d been caught.

(...)

99 notes • Posted 2021-07-26 13:00:25 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[mrs-nate-humphrey]

I am curious: what are your favorite scenes from your main ships (date, dair, derena...)?

scenes involving milo don't count, sorry!

for me, it's really not just scenes, but body language & just in general, how they are with each other, you know? dan and serena grin at each other and hug SO much, you can tell that being around each other in s1 made them both so happy, and even after that glow fades the way they look for comfort in each other... top level stuff. the way blair looks at dan... we never see her as radiant at any other point. she was not looking at anyone else like this. and gosh, dan and nate. they're both so comfortable around each other that there's absolutely nothing weird about like. discussing that one ex girlfriend whom they both share AND both were in love with. there is literally no other duo who trusts/enjoys each other's company so much that they're comfortable in a love triangle. (probably because they're more in love with each other than with the girl, but that is not the point. or is it?)

anyway, more specific answers. under the cut. this is one of the longest answers i've ever written on this blog possibly but you KNEW that would happen when you sent this ask, didn't you? (affectionate)

derena: i tagged one of my ds reblogs as 'the grumpy one is soft for the sunshine one' and like. look at them! this hug from 1x10 kills me in the best way. they are both the literal embodiment of :D when they see each other! i love 1x10 as a whole moment, their entire thing at cotillion is so sweet and they're both so happy. the fact that he is talking about his chemistry teacher during this kiss in 1x07. that bit at the end of 1x05 when they talk about their siblings (being there for their sibling because of fallible parents being a derena parallel makes me simultaneously really sad and really soft, tbh). 1x05 gives me SO MUCH SECONDHAND EMBARRASSMENT but the way they walk off together arms around each other does something to me - these are two people who are still getting to know each other but who really like what they see, and who trust each other and. are just having a good time together! back when derena was my OTP, the 1x11 "your story's about me?" was absolutely a fave, too, and i still adore it, albeit in a different, more nostalgic way. i like a dan who writes cute stories about serena. no empty shell sabrina van skoneker bullshit. she is so much like you, daniel! you'd be shattered if she did this to you. don't do this to her. tbh, most derena moments from s1 are just A+ romance. the bit in 2x02 in the jitney is so funny, they're SO bad at being exes. the bit in... 3x03 i think?? i don't remember... on the contrary. when they're talking about dan's fling w/ georgina and serena's relationship with carter, the ease with which they talk and how happy/supportive they are of each other's new relationships... yeah. love to see it.

i also really like any instance of them having honest/open conversations. 1x13, talking about how serena is concerned about blair. 1x08, serena talking to dan about feeling jealous of vanessa. this bit from the touch of eva or whatever that episode is. 4x04 i think. this is the conversation everyone is trying to get dan to have and he's avoiding EVERYONE else. derena interactions in 3x21 (can't find a gif right now) - the fact that dan is with serena when her dad abandons them, the fact that he goes all the way there with her. 2x07, "i'm really glad you're nate's friend. he really needs someone like you right now" (though i'm cheating, that's technically a d/n moment too klhdflkgf). there's a bit in s4 where he's advising her against having an affair w/ colin, i don't remember the ep number, but the way he takes her side so easily and naturally and puts due blame/responsibility solely on her professor... yeah. 4x10 i think this ep is?? idk. but like my tags say, im sentimental about this moment because while what dan was doing was irresponsible, sneaking her out of the ostroff, he was the only person in this episode who was actually talking to her and listening to her and taking her seriously. nobody else was doing that!!

i probably have more moments i'm not remembering, but we're only 1/3 into this answer and LOOK AT THE WORDS, good lord, i'm sorry.

dair: my favourite dair episode is hands down despicable b (5x21) which i have heard is an uncommon answer. i just love the conflict resolution of it all, okay!!! 1x04 & 2x08 are like. standard answers any dair shipper will give, and i'm no different. i love dan being able to give blair advice and blair actually taking his advice even though they're not friends yet!!! be right back, yelling at the intimacy of it all!! 5x16, with their getting together (this little kiss and dan being so startled by it), blair admitting a flaw she genuinely does have and dan saying it's not awful because it's her, which is just. romance at its finest. those vows, good lord. 5x18.... they're having fun! blair showing up at the loft in lingerie for dan... the delight on her face.... (i know this moment blows up in their face but when she's there she looks so happy and proud of herself and this was like THE moment when i was like. oh. dair is really the heart of this garbage show huh).

i think for me, the thing that really sells dan & blair together is the serena of it all. both of them love serena more fiercely than anyone else, and that is what brings them together. (fwiw i definitely think nate loved serena this much and this deeply, too; the writers just wanted to pop the serenate balloon, which even i think was extremely unnecessary and ooc.) but (& i have so much meta about this) their relationship grows beyond serena. their entire s4 arc is SO good. i love how comfortable around each other they are, in such an adult way, in the sense of like. they both bring so much stability to each other? morgan tagged this edit "the marrieds" and like. yeah. b offers to help him shave. they're having breakfast & reading the paper together.

all the love declarations we got that weren't a simple 'i love you.' be your charming wonderful self (how could she not love you/ tell me what would make you happy, dan) i told chuck he doesn't have my heart anymore (you spent your life earning the keys to set you free when you were free all along!!!!) dan's pep talk to blair in 5x21 (already linked a gifset earlier, here's another one if you want i guess). there's definitely more... but honestly, the way the dair arc was executed was so good - while i do have my complaints, i also think keeping those aside, it was SO close to perfect. i love dan & blair's banter and gradually becoming closer and closer and closer. it felt very organic and real and GOSH. the way penn & leighton looked at each other while playing dan and blair...... it's just SO MUCH.

date: this is the hardest, because it's. *screams*. maybe you saw me losing my mind over those 2 seconds of nate handing dan a waffle? i love almost every scene with these two, even the hellish s6 breakup scene. my favourite episode for d/n (& also favourite gg episode in general) is 2x06 - i love the homoerotic subtext of it all. nate pretending to be dan because dan's name is the first name that came to his head. dan flirting w/ nate while tied to that thing, in his underwear. them becoming friends. and 2x07 as a follow-up to that! dan getting nate to live in the loft with the humphreys for a while. i am so soft.

4x09 is a terrible episode in general, especially for serena my beloved, but the d/n moments in that one? off the CHARTS. this weird overly macho flirting, in some ways THE most iconic d/n line. this entire finish each other's sentences nonsense. someone (i think it was ana but im not sure?) compared the energy of those scenes i just linked to the book blairenate love triangle resolution, blairena choosing each other over nate in the books, date choosing each other over serena in the show (if only! RIP.) after the saints & sinners ball, this cute little moment of 'youre the only one who understands me. please tell me they went home together. i mean. how could they not have.

3x07, them watching vampire porn together. a tag i used on ao3 (& also on here, once) is 'nate brings out the himbo in dan'. here is a prime example. 'is she levitating?' i don't fucking know, dan, what do you think?? (i was telling my partner that that's what i love abt dair vs date. around blair dan is an intellectual, a librarian, an art historian, a museum curator. around nate it's like dan is competing to be #1 himbo on the show. can my girlfriend actually fly? i don't know, dan. i can't believe you're seriously asking such a question.)

3x12 pep talk. (sorry about the shitty quality!) essentially nate telling dan that he (dan) is hot and that he shouldn't talk himself down so much.

dan making nate gay in his book. you know. his book from which blair found out he was in love with her. nads (who i will not tag in this billion word long gushy meta, because i value her sanity) once called inside "wish fulfilment' and. i mean. yeah

nate checking dan out at the derena wedding continues to be hilarious. hilarious in the same way as dan sexually fantasising about nate. canon really went 'let's give ivy some special easter eggs' and i appreciate them a lot!

i love the way they are around each other - so quietly attuned to each other. i showed my sister my date!husbands gifset, and she was like. yeah they're so married. and it's just stuff like how dan looks for nate over his shoulder, it's not even an active action, it's as easy and natural and intuitive as breathing, checking to see if nate is still there.

oh, that wasn't as hard as it could've been! okay. cool. im SURE there's more things i could scream about, because it's DN, the fact that they're non-canon makes me THAT much fiercer about them than dair/derena, to be honest. so many dots to connect!! anyway.

[transformers-fan-continuities]

Do you have any tips for starting a TF:FC blog? While I personally still have a bit to go before I feel I should make one, I do think the information would be helpful!

hfshdshgjfjhgHA I’m flattered that you ask me, as if I have any freaking idea what I’m doing fhfhfhffff

First tip, figure out what you’re comfortable posting! I’m still struggling with perfectionism, which means I don’t share WIPs and miscellaneous bits and bobs, because I just don’t think anyone would be interested in that, despite the fact several people have told me they are. So what do you want to post? Doodles, info files, ficlets, character designs, stream-of-consciousness rambling? All of those are valid by the way, curate your content as you see fit, your followers will love everything because we as a fandom are starving.

Second, look at other folks! Many fan continuity blogs I like have a taglist or about page somewhere, or at least a tag system that makes posts easier to find (assuming tungle’s tag search function works properly smh). Also consider, do you want asks and submissions open or not? Some folks have it set up so that they post everything to their main or art blog and then reblog the relevant Transformers stuff to a dedicated sideblog.

Third, aesthetic. Okay this is admittedly a little less important but I like choosing the theme and color scheme of my blog. This also kind of ties in to what you’ll be posting, make sure whatever format you choose is readable and easy to navigate, for both you and your followers. A useful thing I’ve seen a few blogs do is pin an information post or linktree at the top of their blog, so people can navigate it easily.

Fourth, get a backlog of content before you start and then post it regularly but sparingly. Not like, once a day or anything, but don’t dump a thousand posts in a week and then have nothing left to add. If you draw a few things, post one or two of them, and then post the rest the next day, so you feel less pressure to make some kind of post every day oh my god I’m out of new things to post I have to make something right now but I’m tired and uncreative hhhhhh. Backlogs help.

(Side note about content- mystery is always enticing, so maybe save some major plot points and spoilers, but hint at them. Just sprinkle in some winkwink nudgenudge and ominous foreshadowing so people get to wondering. Same with references to canon! Lil easter eggs are always fun to spot.)

Fifth, which you’ve already started doing by sending an ask to this blog, get connected to other fan continuities! Reblog their stuff, send some asks, treat other fans as you’d like them to treat you, and curiosity about your continuity will follow. I know for a fact that there are at least three Transformers fan canon ask memes out there too.

Sixth, but actually first and foremost,

this blog is for you.

Seriously! Do whatever you want with it! That applies to your whole continuity too. Don’t be afraid to post and reblog stuff that you like, even if it’s not necessarily Transformers, and on the other side, don’t feel bad for avoiding posting or reblogging anything if you want this space to be only about Transformers! Your blog should be set up for your ease of use and enjoyment, with your followers as an important but secondary consideration. Just Have Fun.

Secret seventh tip that isn’t actually a tip, maybe draw robot food? That seems to have been a wild success for me idk maybe try it?

[mypassionfortrash]

KICKS (part two)

Betsy Bright cracks her whip and quashes Roger’s kinky dreams before they’ve even taken flight. Inexperience and Betsy’s shortage of enthusiasm, coupled with a lack of aftercare, have excruciating consequences for him and he ends up back at Kicks seeking more advice from you.

Warnings: Strong D/s themes later on; strong themes of physical abuse. There’s a bit of fluff and angst in this one. STRICTLY 18+. Notes: Thank you so much for the lovely response on the first part – I really do appreciate it! As always, feedback is thoroughly appreciated, and if you like this, please reblog it so people can see it. If you’d like to be tagged, just send me a message – I don’t bite ☺️

Catch up: Part one

Tags: @jennyggggrrr​ @sarahgurl09​ @scorpiogemini @johnricharddeacy​​ @brianssixpence​​ @hellohellothere12 @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @internationalkpoplova @thefairyfellersmasterstroke @six-bloodyminutes 

Betsy Bright was cute.

Betsy Bright was rich.

Betsy Bright had big green eyes and wore dark crimson lipstick.

But above all, Betsy Bright didn’t have a clue. 

So much so that you were certain that what she piled into her basket on her first visit to Kicks would have excruciating consequences for her boyfriend.

That much you knew.

You were sure she did, too.

But she didn’t want your help, even though you trailed behind her, watching her like a hawk. Everything she picked up, you questioned, as the knot inside your stomach tightened like badly-rigged Shibari.

“Have you tried wax play before?” you asked as she bundled a pack of candles into her cart. They were skin-safe, but could still cause a shocking amount of pain if you didn’t know how to use them properly.

Betsy shrugged. “Can’t be that hard, can it? Tie him up, drip some wax on him. He’ll love it.”

It was that hard. It took you years to master that art and even then you still managed to burn yourself if things got too heated during a scene.

Then she moved to the hoods. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to pair the candles with one these if he’s – you’re – not used to it,” you cautioned.

“It’s just as well the customer is always right, then, because I think it’s a fantastic idea,” she said, flashing you a steely glare. She reached out her elegant red-nailed fingers and brushed over the myriad of options. Spandex. Latex. Leather. Lace. Rubber. Eye holes. Nose holes. Mouth holes. No holes. Some came with gags, bits and blinkers, and others came with phallic objects attached to the mouth. Some even locked. “It’s your fault he wants to try all of this.” Her hand settled on a red latex gimp mask with nothing but two nose holes and a lock around the neck. “I think this is perfect,” she said. “Don’t you think.”

Your eyes widened as you nodded. Then you retreated behind the cash desk, hoping that the distance would lower your apprehension. But when she sauntered over to the impact play section, your heart sank. 

Betsy bright didn’t go for a cute little riding crop or even a small, soft paddle. She bypassed canes and cat o’ nine tails in many different guises. Instead, she settled on a whip. 

You knew she wasn’t going to be talked out of her purchases, as harmful as they would be to Roger. But you could at least try your best to mitigate any pain or discomfort for him. After all, you kind of liked him – and you had a duty.

You did a patrol of the shop, picking up items that might help save Roger from bleeding or dropping too hard, too fast. As Betsy came over to the cash desk and dumped her basket, she spied them. Alcohol swabs, some lotion and a bottle of bubble bath.

She screwed up her beautiful features and succeeded in turning herself into a monster. “You’re not going to fucking sell me these on top of everything else? Don’t you think I’m spending enough in this shithole?”

“No,” you began, clinging to what little patience you had left. “I’m going to give you these for free. Aftercare’s really important and–”

“He’s a grown man. He can handle it.”

“I’m just going to put these in your bag. Whether or not Roger wants to use them is up to him,” you said.

Betsy threw her money down on the counter and reached out to grab her bag. But you held on to it. She wore an expression that could sour milk in seconds flat.

“It’s up to him. Not you,” you repeated. “Do you understand.”

“Right, I get it. Now let me get out of here.”

———————————————————————————

Roger’s back stung. His thighs burned. And his cock? It was flat as a pancake. Much to Betsy’s dismay as she moved to straddle her boyfriend to get herself off.

“I thought you enjoyed this?” she remarked, examining Roger’s limp member and ripping back the latex hood to expose his mouth.

He had to bite back tears when he spoke, unable to move away from her. He thanked his lucky stars for the hood. “I told you to ease up.”

“Oh, bollocks! What’s the point in doing this if I’m just going to fucking tickle you?” she scolded. “I’m going home, Roger. Fuck this. This is weird.”

“Can you… can you at least untie me?”

“No, I think I’ll leave you there to fester in your own filth.”

As soon as Betsy’s footsteps disappeared out of earshot, Roger gave up fighting. He let the tears flow as freely as they could until he passed out from pain and exhaustion.

————————————————————————— 

Even recounting the story, Roger was on the verge of breaking down, hunched over the cash desk and staring down into his coffee cup.

“And she didn’t even untie you?” you asked, stroking his shoulder.

He flinched under your touch like a wounded animal and shook his head.

“How’s your back?”

“Fucking agony. I can’t even walk properly.”

“When you got up, was there any blood or pus on the sheets?”

He shook his head.

“Can I take a look?”

He nodded.

“Alright, I’m going to close the shop so that we won’t be disturbed. You head through into the backroom and get your top off for me. I’ll be through in a minute.”

You worked quickly, turning the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed,’ locking the door and grabbing some soothing lotion from the shelves. You wandered back through to find Roger shirtless and slouched over the countertop with his head nestled between his arms. But if that sight wasn’t sorry enough, the sight of his back was.

Deep, crimson stripes had been bored into Roger’s pale skin in places that no dominant worth their stripes would even dream of. You had to work quickly. “Betsy sure knows how to crack a whip, hm?” you said, trailing your fingers over Roger’s black and blue spine. “You’re lucky this hasn’t come up in welts just yet. Because you don’t want that.”

“I didn’t want this full stop,” Roger remarked as you continued to examine him. “Ah! Fuck – not there!”

Your fingers brushed over the spot where his kidneys were. “Here?” you asked.

“Yeah. Hurts.”

“Hold on, I think I’ve got some lidocaine gel here somewhere.”

“Who the hell just has lidocaine sitting around?”

“People who do this on a regular basis.” You rifled around in the first aid box – specially adapted for the specific needs of the business – and pulled out the tube, along with some rubber gloves and sachets of alcohol swabs. “Now hold still. I’m gonna disinfect these first.”

“Oh! Oh, you bitch!” Roger cursed, sinking his teeth into his knuckles. “Oh, you fucking bitch. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Oh, you heathen. Betsy’s got nothing on you. You’re cruel, cruel, I tell you! Oh…” He paused, feeling the cool, numbing sensation of the lidocaine on his wounds. “Oh god.”

“Like that?” you asked.

“That’s nice.”

Roger’s muscles relaxed as you swapped the swabs and lidocaine for lotion, working it into his skin. He breathed a deep sigh of relief as the burning on his skin subsided and his eyes fluttered closed; allowing himself to be transported to a universe of sheer bliss that he truly deserved.

“Now we’re loosening you up,” you hummed. “How are you feeling.”

“A lot better,” he said. “Thank you.”

“That’s alright. Never ever let someone strike you near your spine, lungs or kidneys. Especially not with a whip. They do a lot of damage.”

“Tried to tell her to stop,” he mumbled. 

“I know,” you said, attempting to soothe him.

“Don’t think I’ll be trying anything like that again in a hurry.”

“Don’t give up. It’s a bit like dating, really. You know, us mere mortals have to kiss a lot of frogs before we find someone we’re comfortable with,” you explained, kneading at Roger’s tired shoulders. “Kink’s like that too.”

“How so?”

“Well, it’s a minefield. Especially for younger women. Not saying that men have it any better, but younger, more submissive, women tend to go a bit too hard, a bit too fast. And there are lots of people out there who think being dominant is all about control and inflicting as much pain as they can on someone who can’t fight back.”

“I’m terrified of doing that to someone.”

“You’d be a great dom then… I think.” You felt a chuckle vibrate through Roger’s ribcage.

“You think?”

“Yeah. Trust me, I can tell. I’ve had more bad doms than tongue could tell, so I know a – potentially – good one when I see one.”

“I’ll stick to taking it.”

“It’s always the submissive that controls a scene.”

“Right,” Roger scoffed.

“No. Really. A good dom talks to you beforehand, listens to your limits and gets creative with what they can do to make you feel… something. And if it’s too much, they listen to their sub and know when to drop it right back. Or stop altogether.”

“Doesn’t sound like Betsy at all,” he said. “So which one are you?”

“A bit of both.”

“Does it go hand-in-hand with who you’re with?” he asked. “Is it important to your relationships?”

“Not really. It’s just acting… playing. And I like to keep it separate from sex – or love – if I can. The two don’t have to be interlinked, I don’t think. It’s just adults… playing.”

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why do you keep it separate?”

“Have you ever had sex with someone you didn’t love, just for the sake of having fun?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, there you go.”

“There’s more to it than that,” Roger said flatly.

You didn’t respond. You just kept massaging Roger’s back with slightly more pressure.

“I know there is,” he pressed. “You’ve gone quiet.”

“Look, sex is a really special thing to me. There has to be a certain amount of feelings there before I could ever let someone near me again,” you snapped.

Roger turned to you, looking sullen. “Again? What happened to you?”

“Like I said, there are a lot of bad, controlling people out there,” you said, grabbing Roger’s shirt and throwing it to him. “And besides, have you thought about what you’re going to do with Betsy?”

“What’s that song?” Roger asked, buttoning his shirt. “Paul Simon…”

“Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover?”

“That’s the one,” he said following you out on to the shop floor. “It’s gonna be in my head all day now. Might give me some inspiration.”

“Seriously, Roger,” you began, “Please have a think about it. I know I barely know you, but I don’t want her hurting you. And I don’t want her to put you off exploring what you’re into… beyond shagging everything that moves.”

“I’ll think of something,” he said. 

Without thinking, he held out his arms and threw them around you in a bone-crushing embrace. He smelled divine. Like smoke and amber and snowy pine forests on a winter’s day. And, rocking from foot to foot together, you couldn’t resist drinking in that intoxicating scent as your bodies melted together.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“Just doing my job.”

“I don’t think you get paid to give back massages.”

“I get paid to give good advice though.”

The rocking suddenly stopped when something caught Roger’s eye over your shoulder in the corner of the shop. “What’s that?” he asked, still hugging you.

“What’s what?” you asked, lifting your face from the crook of his neck.

Roger let go and bolted over to the distraction.

You let out a nervous laugh when you realised what had ripped Roger’s attention away from you. “Oh yeah. That, dear Roger, is a fucking machine.”

Roger’s jaw nearly hit the floor at the sight of the lewd and unsightly contraption. “Well, that’s just genius! How does it work?”

You rolled your eyes and picked it up, then you plonked it on the cash desk. “Basically,” you began, pointing to the plate at the end of the long metal rod, “you get a big fat rubber cock, and attach it to this with a suction cup or something. Then, you lie back, or get on all fours, whichever position tickles your fancy, hit the remote control and get the life pounded out of you.”

“Christ, that’s brilliant!”

“No man required,” you said, folding your arms.

Roger grinned and stuck his hands in his back pockets. “I absolutely love female empowerment, don’t you?”

>>NEXT>>

[lifeinahole27]

CS ff: “Walking the Tightrope” (Epilogue) (au)

Summary: Killian’s daily routines are a matter of habit. When he wakes up late one morning, his routines all change for the better. Emma doesn’t care about routines, but she does care about Killian, no matter how reluctant she is to admit it to herself.

Rating: E (the content warnings matter this time!)

Content Warnings: There’s uhhh... poetry smut.

A Special Thank You: My continued gratitude to my lovely friends, @captainstudmuffin and @phiralovesloki. And a heap of love to @captainswanbigbang for putting this together and helping me accomplish this.

A/N: Holy crap! Here we are! It’s the end of the story!! Now, for those of you who read the original story, there’s not a whole lot that’s changed. I edited everything to fit the rest of the story and writing style, since the original version was a little rough, but other than little bits, it’s what you remember. If you didn’t read this, then welcome to the end! 

My eternal gratitude to those who helped me finish this, those who helped find my errors (my two lovely ladies are listed above), to those who read this! Who reblogged it! Who left comments and sweet tags and sent messages and made this all worth it. I constantly say that I cannot express how thankful I am and it’s true. With only words, I can only say, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. <3<3

This epilogue is meant to tie bows around a couple major things and send these off the best way I know how. I still have a stack of headcanons and info that wouldn’t fit in here. I would love to share these things if anyone is curious. If you are, or have questions, or want to talk about specific parts, please send me messages. I would love to chat about this world that has lived in my brain and morphed over the last FIVE YEARS. 

(Poetry included is not mine: All rights reserved to Pablo Neruda "My love, understand me" and "Night on the Island" and to Leonard Cohen "The Mists of Pornography")

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 |

Find it on Ao3 & FFN!

-x-

Epilogue: The Art of Poetry

-x- April 

The day that Killian forgets the coffee mugs on his counter is the day he locks himself out of his apartment for the first time. He and Emma huddle on the front stoop together in the early morning chill waiting for his landlord to come unlock the door. He opens his jacket and pulls her closer, jumping when her cold nose touches his collarbone and she chuckles as she repeats the action until her nose is warm and he’s even warmer. They thank Marco profusely when he arrives with the spare set of keys.

They’re also both late for work that day.

The next day, when Emma comes back from getting coffee, there’s an envelope propped in front of her computer at work. When she opens it, a weight settles in the envelope and she pulls out the folded note. Killian’s neat handwriting stretches across the paper.

“My love,

understand me,

I love all of you,

from eyes to feet, to toenails,

inside

all the brightness, which you kept.

It is I, my love,

who knocks at your door.”

So next time I lock myself out, you can unlock it for me.

She peers into the envelope to see the key resting in the bottom and thinks he may be onto something with poetry if it always sounds like that.

Emma makes sure to beat Killian to the door when they walk back to his place after work so she can try out her new key, and she only smiles wider when the lock slides open. She makes a big show of swinging open the door, gesturing him inside with a sweep of her arm. 

When she gets home that night, Snow and David have once again broken into her loft, but she doesn’t much care for two reasons. Firstly, she knew they were going to do this after they texted her twenty minutes ago and asked whether or not she was spending the night at Killian’s. Secondly, it takes her five whole seconds to read the message on Snow’s shirt that proudly states that she’s “Pregnant AF” (the shirt’s words, not hers) and there’s a whole bunch of happy crying and flailing that follows. 

-x- Late August

Emma arrives home a little late one night to Killian already making dinner. The routines they do still live with all include household chores and the way they divvy them up, and she’s perfectly fine with the structure he’s brought to her previously chaotic lifestyle. He glances over his shoulder when she walks in and smiles.

“Get stuck late again?”

“Not quite,” she says as she comes to stand behind him. “That smells amazing, by the way.”

“It’ll be done in just a bit.”

“Want me to set the table?”

“I’d like to know why you’re avoiding a simple inquiry into why you were so late in such an obvious manner.”

Emma sighs heavily. “I kind of walked all the way back to the loft before I realized I didn’t live there anymore.”

“Kind of? I don’t think that’s something you can kind of do, love,” he says, still managing to stir whatever it is he’s making even when she goes to swat his arm. 

“Okay, so I did. You said it yourself, though. Old habits, right?” She hops up on the counter to watch him cook. 

“Indeed, love. So, I’ve been meaning to ask you. How do you feel our adventures have measured up to the expectations?”

“Well, you didn’t turn into a frog.”

“Aye, I’m sure there’s still time for that. We’re only in the middle of this tale. We’ll just have to see where the pages take us from here.”

“You are such a fucking romance novelist,” she says, laughing brightly when Killian removes his sauce from the stove and turns it off before he moves in to attack. And even though she’s squirming to get away from his nimble fingers as they target her ticklish spots, she sends up a quick thank you to Killian’s faulty alarm clock and his old habit of routines. 

-x- September

“You could just leave those until later,” Killian says, coming up behind Emma as she washes their dishes from dinner. He has his hand and hook on her hips and his lips on her hair, his voice full of implication. 

He’s learned not to try to talk her out of cleaning up, and instead he just enjoys distracting her in the best ways possible. 

She’s wearing a skirt - something she only does when she’s out of leggings - and the soft gray jersey fabric clings to her hips before flaring and draping down. It hides much of her legs, but her backside looks fantastic in it. On top, she has a light yellow shirt that’s tickling at his memories, the lines of a poem he once memorized during his university years making their way back to mind. 

Steady movements continue as she washes and rinses each dish, stacking them in the drying rack before starting to scrub out the sink. He’s struggling to remember the lines, yellow sweater, and with a smirk he glides his hand down to palm the back of her thigh.

“These are anything but boyish haunches,” he says out loud. Emma gasps as the shift from peaceful innocence to dirty.

“What?”

He hums, nosing some of her hair aside so he can find her neck with his lips. “From a poem. Your shirt brought it back to me. ‘The Mists of Pornography’ was the title,” he responds, moving his hand to the front of her thigh and sliding it up to rest on a spot right below her hipbones.

“Why am I not surprised that you know something with ‘pornography’ in the title?”

“Ah, but Swan, it’s about much more than that. Close your eyes. Listen,” he says, and uses his hook to brush the hair off her neck and lean closer to her ear. He sways just a little bit closer as he starts to speak. 

When you rose out of the mist / of pornography - He runs a single finger along her spine until it rests between her shoulders - with your talk of marriage / and orgies / I was a mere boy / of fifty-seven / trying to make a fast buck / in the slow lane / It was ten years too late / but I finally got / the most beautiful girl / on the religious left / to go with her lips / to the sunless place - and here he makes sure to push his hips against her to emphasize as she snorts. He continues reciting, crowding her against the counter, making sure the edge is pressing right where he wants it to.

This was my life / in Los Angeles / when you slowly / removed your yellow sweater - As he speaks, he slowly draws her shirt over her head and she lifts her arms - and I slobbered over / your boyish haunches - He runs his hand over the path that started this all and pushes the skirt off her hips to rub over the back of a now-bare thigh - and I tried to be / a husband / to your dark and motherly / intentions.

I thank you / for the ponderous songs / I brought to completion / instead of fucking you / more often - He punctuates by rolling his hips against her and she gasps as she clutches the sink for stability, and he keeps going.

Your panic cannot hurry me here / and my panic and falling / shoulders / our shameless lives / are the grains / scattered for an offering / before the staggering heights / of our love - His hand glides over her stomach and up to cup a breast through her bra. He’s sure she can feel where his cock is pressing against her ass, hard and wanting. Her hips are pinned against the sink and with each line, he thrusts against her, slowly lighting the fuse of what promises to be a spectacular orgasm if he doesn’t stop.

And the other side of your anxiety / is a hammock of sweat / and moaning - It’s getting harder to pay attention to the poem, especially when he pulls down the straps and cups of her bra, palm meeting her already hardened nipples as he alternates between them. Her body shudders with pleasure and he struggles to continue - and time comes down / like the smallest pet of God / to lick our fingers - he licks her shoulder instead - as we sleep / in the tangle / of straps and bracelets. 

With a great deal of effort, he keeps going, trying to make the lines appear in his head so he can read them off with ease and still give her the attention she deserves - and Oh the sweetness of first nights / and twenty-third nights / and nights / after death and bitterness - She reaches one arm back to wrap around his neck and firmly grasps his hair - and the impeccable order / of the objects on the table - He’s rocking her into the counter at just the right speed and he can tell how close she is with each new word - the weightless irrelevance / of all our old intentions / as we undo / as we undo / every difference.

With the last word of the poem out of his mouth, she tugs hard at his hair and she climaxes, coming undone and leaning back against his chest and tries to catch her breath. 

“Oh god, Killian,” she moans. He’s still rocking them against the counter as she rides out her orgasm. “By far, this is the most interesting way you’ve ever made me orgasm.

“Have I made you a fan of poetry yet, Swan?” He moves his hand back down to her hips, his fingers sliding just under the waist of her panties. She feels loose and light as she turns in his arms and pulls him against her.

“A couple more poems like that and I can definitely be convinced,” she says. “But for now I think I’m more interested in spending time with this one. What was that about lips and sunless places?”

His mind reels because she drops to her knees between him and the cabinets. He grips the counter for stability when she drags her teeth over the zipper of his slacks.

“Think you can recite another one?” She unfastens his trousers, sliding the material down and taking his boxer briefs with it. She wraps one hand around the base of his cock, lightly gripping his hip with the other.

“Hmm?” He’s concentrating really hard on not rocking his hips forward into her skilled hands, incredibly aware of the counter just behind her head. The absolute last thing he wants to do is accidentally give his girlfriend a concussion.

“Another poem, Killian. You have another one up in that head of yours?” She leans in and licks the tip of his erection, grinning up at him.

His mind scrambles for any other poems he memorized.

“You’re making it incredibly difficult to concentrate, love, but I did always love a challenge” he admits, another moan pulling from him as she wraps her lips around the head and sucks lightly. She pulls back again and looks up at him, her smile shining in her eyes.

“You once promised to read me dirty poetry. You’ve given me one. Surely you have another up there,” she says before leaning forward to kiss a spot below his hip bone. 

“There once was a man from Nantucket,” he starts, but she cuts him off with her laughter.

“No, no. Make it a good one.”

The poem that finally makes its way to his mind is not dirty, but he knows she’ll appreciate it. He clears his throat, closing his eyes and trying to concentrate on the words in his head instead of the love at his feet.

All night I have slept with you / next to the sea, on the island. He begins, and she runs her hands along his thighs. Wild and sweet you were between pleasure and sleep, / between fire and water. She grips his cock again and begins stroking it gently, placing kisses along his hip again as he continues.

Perhaps very late / our dreams joined / at the top or at the bottom, / up above like—

“Fuck, Emma,” he moans, her mouth going from the innocence of kisses to wrapping her lips around him once more and swirling her tongue around the tip.

“Keep going,” she pants out when she breaks away, dipping her head right back in when he starts reciting once more.

Perhaps your dream / drifted from mine / and through the dark sea / was seeking me / as before, / when you did not yet exist, / when without sighting you / I sailed by your side, / and your eyes sought / what now—/ bread, wine, love, and anger—/ I heap upon you / because you are the cup / that was waiting for the gifts of my life.

The hand that isn’t gripping the base of his cock trails up his thigh once more, pausing on his hip for a moment before brushing under the shirt that he’s still wearing and she runs her nails down his chest.

I have slept with you / all night long while / the dark earth spins / with the living and the dead, / and on waking suddenly / in the midst of the shadow / my arm encircled your waist. / Neither night nor sleep / could separate us.

She begins bobbing her head while her hand strokes the rest of his length, and it’s a struggle to remember the last stanza for a moment. He drops his head, opens his eyes again to watch her move and it’s too much. His movements against her during the first poem had already aroused him, and her attentions on him now are pushing him closer to the edge.

Emma moans around his length and his knuckles go white where he’s still gripping the counter. He can feel his release coming and she feels it too, speeds up and doesn’t prolong the torture. When it hits him, he has to brace his feet a little more so he doesn’t collapse. He’s breathing hard when she gracefully stands back up into the cage of his arms. She’s grinning, the cat that got the cream, as she winds her arms around his neck.

“Is that the end?” she asks, fingers threading through his hair. He shakes his head and swallows, wraps his arms around her and pulls her close.

I have slept with you / and on waking, your mouth, / come from your dream, / gave me the taste of earth, / of sea water, of seaweed, / of the depths of your life, / and I received your kiss / moistened by dawn / as if it came to me / from the sea that surrounds us.

He kisses her after saying the last verse, tasting his release still lingering on her tongue, and she hums into the kiss.

“Not bad,” she says when she breaks the kiss. “You may have just swayed my opinion. I’m now pro-poetry.” She’s smiling when she meets his eyes, and he chuckles. He places one more kiss on her forehead before bending to hastily pull his underwear back up, stepping out of his discarded trousers and leaving them on the floor.

“I’ll try a lofty and pretentious one next time,” he promises, remembering their previous discussions about poetry now that she’s brought them up.

“Only if you’re fucking me into the mattress when you do it,” she says off-handedly. He huffs out a laugh and rests his forehead against hers.

“You’ll be the death of me, love.” He hugs her tight to him as he says it and he can feel the laugh vibrate through her.

“But you love me anyways,” she responds, dancing her fingers across his shoulders.

“Aye, until the end of time.” He kisses her again, and she whispers her love for him across his lips.

And when they wind up in bed a short time later, he recites whatever he can think of—limericks, haiku, even a poem by Shel Silverstein—as he fulfills her request. 

When the Save-the-Dates go out a few months later, there is, indeed, an asterisk at the bottom that says “David was right.”

[marmolady]

Growing Pains: Part Two

PART ONE    PART THREE

Main Pairings: Estela x MC/Taylor (f)

Summary: Post-ending. For Liv and her mothers, Taylor and Estela, a turbulent period of transition is afoot. Set primarily in the distant future of 2033.

This was only going to be a two-parter, but this installment got so long-winded I split it. So, you can look forward to Part Three soon-- and art for the second and third parts as well. 

Word Count: 5636

WARNINGS: Mentions of transphobia.

More Liv fics here: Livita, Teething Problems,  Milestones and Memories, Mutual Comfort,  All That Matters

Reviews and reblogs are hugely appreciated!

Tagging: @brightpinkpeppercorn, @mrsmontoya, @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @quinnkellys-wife, @greengroove​

San Trobida, 2006

The scratch of her pen on the notebook was not enough to keep the voices in the room next from reaching Estela’s ears, even muffled as they were. She’d pause to concentrate; math wasn’t her strong point, it tended to require a lot of hard thinking, and she’d catch a few more snippets of conversations she knew very well she had no business hearing. Whether she was supposed to or not, she always kept an ear out for her tio’s voice, or his name being mentioned. How could anyone expect her not to? Of course she’d want a heads up if something was planned that would take him away for days at a time. Sometimes the people who left on these missions didn’t come back. Tio Nicolas had a very important job to do, and it made Estela proud, but she was forever holding her breath, waiting to hear whether her uncle would be on the front lines or safe at home. All strategy talk soared straight over her head, but she knew what it meant when Nicolas was called to action.

Then came the voice that Estela had been waiting to hear. Immediately, she scrambled to put her things together, ready, so ready to go home.

The door creaked open, and her mother was standing there.

“Estelita, I’m so sorry I’m late,” she said, a little breathless, as though she’d been rushing to get to the secret house. There was no doubt in Estela’s mind that she had been. “I had some important things to sort out with my manager. No doubt it will be worth it, but I hate leaving you here.”

Estela jumped up, already set to go, and gave Olivia a one-armed hug. “That’s okay. I managed to get most of it finished without help.”

With a sigh, Olivia kissed her daughter’s head. “We’ll finish it off together tomorrow, I promise. But for now, I think we could both do with just putting our feet up. Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

Having slipped through the hallway quietly enough to not disturb anything important, the pair drove off into the night. It had to be getting on for nine by now. Dinner had been a slapped-together rush, as it always was when Nicolas had to go out in the evenings. Estela knew her mother would’ve taken a break for something to eat at work, but probably when they got home, they’d share some cocadas and hot chocolate. As per tradition. Estela noted the clear agitation in her mother’s demeanour; it seemed that Olivia could really use cocadas and hot chocolate tonight.

“Are you okay, Mami?”

Olivia grimaced. “I really don’t like you being at those meetings. I know you’re in a separate room, but a kid your age shouldn’t be exposed to-- it’s just not right. The fact that I let it happen at all, I-- I’m sorry, mija.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. I’m fine.”

“Fine isn’t good enough. You deserve better than that.” Olivia looked to her daughter with the fondest of smiles, though guilt shadowed her features. “It took a bit of negotiation, but I’m changing around my shifts at work. I’ll be going in for five--”

“In the morning?”

“It won’t be for a few weeks yet, unfortunately. But this will work better for all of us. I’ll be finishing when I’d usually be having lunch, leaving my afternoon free to do your lessons. Early mornings mean nothing to me if I get to be with you.”

Then Estela was smiling back. “It’s gonna be like every day is half a Mom day off. I’ve missed hanging out with you; it gets kinda lonely.” It wasn’t Tio Nicolas’ fault. The work he had to do was important; it would change San Trobida forever. Spending quality time with the tag-along ten-year-old couldn’t be a priority.

“I know. And I’ve really missed you too. I feel as though you’re growing so much, and it’s passing me by. Now, we’re going to be a team. Together, you and me are gonna kick elementary school in its ass.”

Estela burst out giggling. Unlike Nicolas, her mother only brought out the unsavoury language on special occasions. So… she was stressed but… feeling optimistic? That things were going to get better?

“I think Tio taught me some moves for that.”

Olivia rolled her eyes with an affectionate scoff. “I’ll bet he has.”

______________________

USA, 2033

Estela lay in bed with her eyes closed, though expectation of getting back to sleep had long since passed. There was little point anyway, Liv would be up at the crack of dawn, as she always was before the reunion trip. For the time being, there was nothing to distract Estela from her thoughts, just the gentle sound of Taylor breathing beside her.

Drowning in thought seemed to just be Estela’s state of existence these days. Liv needed her to come through, to magic up way to ease her through the turbulent period of preadolescence. It had been a heavy burden on Taylor as well, and it was all Estela could do to try and relieve it-- it certainly seemed to her as though Taylor could well be suffering from post-partum depression, and what she didn’t need was any guilt. In the end, Liv had handled the baby Michael situation like a champ; she’d given him a cuddle on his first day in the world, but then was happy to return to something close to normal. In her own loneliness, she’d been the snuggly little rock that Taylor had so needed. Estela had done her best, of course, but it was hard to shake the feeling that she just couldn’t do enough for either of them.

That was going to change. That year, when they went to their reunion on La Huerta, they wouldn’t be coming back. Between herself and Taylor, there had been so much back and forth about how best to get Liv through the next couple of years to high school, but in the end, they’d kept coming back to home-schooling. Liv needed a break from the social stresses of being shut up with dozens of pre-teen kids all day. Taylor needed to reconnect with herself as a mother. And she, Estela, wanted to hang onto her little girl, to hold her tight and make the most of what should be the best years of their lives; after all, you could never know just how precious those years would become.

Taylor rolled over with a muffled groan, her face registering surprise as Estela’s eyes flickered open.

“Hey,” she said. “Given up on getting back to sleep?”

From the sound of Taylor’s voice, she too had been wide awake and lying there in silent thought for some time herself.

“Mmm… the same as you, I’m guessing.” Estela reached and stroked a stray hair from Taylor’s face. “How are you feeling?”

“I… well, tired.” Taylor chuckled darkly. “You know, the usual. But, on top of that… my stomach’s so full of butterflies I could throw up.” She leaned her face into Estela’s touch, seeking comfort, reassurance. It was a subtle movement, tiny, but there was no doubt that it had been read and understood, for in seconds, Taylor had been swept into a close and warm embrace. She squeezed back, hanging on as if for dear life.

“It’s weird…,” she choked out. “I never thought I’d feel like this before a reunion. I’m almost dreading it. Part of me just wants to see everyone-- but I’m terrified of what I’ll feel when I see Michael again.”

Estela pulled away just enough that she could press a kiss to Taylor’s forehead. “I’ve got you,” she whispered. What more did she even have to offer? She couldn’t make this easier. In the weeks since the birth, they’d kept their distance. Taylor hadn’t been up to anything more than the briefest of visits prior to Jake and Sean returning home with the baby. The step about to be taken was huge. This was a full week of close proximity, with emotions running wild all over the place. She kissed Taylor again, and again. “I’ve got you.”

“It’s just been so hard. I feel like I’ve just about clawed myself out of the slump, but what if I take one look at him and I crash all over again? I can’t run away from this-- I know that will only make it worse in my head.”

“The option is always there, okay? If we get to the airport and you can’t do it, taking care of yourself first isn’t running away.” At the look of protest she received, Estela added, “I know, I know that right now, we’re going with ‘plan A’. You’re going to get through this, mi amor. From the moment you step onto that plane, you’re gonna have the world’s best support network right there. So, whatever this brings up for you, whatever it is you need to feel, you can feel it and know we’re on your side.”

Taylor heaved a sigh. “This will be good for me. Of all the things I’ve had to face… this shouldn’t be so scary.”

“Well, we’re out of practice. Tell me the last time you had to face down a heavily armoured pack of mercenaries? Or a sea monster with control over the weather?”

The sigh became a snort of laughter. “True. It’s no damn wonder we’re going soft. I’m pretty sure the scariest thing I’ve had to deal with in the past ten years was that time I thought Liv had come home from school with headlice.”

Estela gave an exaggerated shudder. “Joder. Even the thought….”

Taylor giggled into her wife’s shoulder, and relaxed there, letting the tension flow from her body. “I love you,” she breathed.

��I love you too.”

For a little while, they held one another, then all too soon came the tell-tale thumping of kid footsteps.

“I swear she gets earlier every year,” Estela chuckled against Taylor’s temple. “When is she gonna turn into a teenager that we have to drag out of bed with a mechanical crane?”

“Ugh, I know.” Taylor couldn’t help but smile. Recently, she wasn’t sure how she’d have dragged herself out of bed each day if it hadn’t been for Liv. She sat up. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

____________________

Liv bounced her way down through to the departure lounge at Northbridge airport, leading her three cousins in a merry dance.

“Can you see them?” Immy cried out. Four-and-a-half, she was the slightly younger of Aleister and Grace’s twin girls.

“Immy, inside voice, please,” Grace urged, following behind the excitable children with a trolley.

Attempts at calming the horde were all for naught when they turned the corner to find Zahra and Craig waiting for them, their flight having come in some hours before.

“Eh, look who it is… all the l’il brats.”

“Chyeah, it is!”

Craig hoisted Liv into the air as she squealed.

“We were trying to keep them all calm, what with this being a public airport and all, so thanks for that.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Liv laughed. “I’ll save most of my jumping up and down and yelling for when we get there.”

“For the pool party!” Craig hissed under his breath.

Zahra was scowling. A friendly scowl, her friends knew by now, but a scowl nonetheless. “Have I ever told you people how stupid it is that we all drag our asses back to Northbridge each year rather than just fly to Costa Rica from wherever the hell we are? No?”

Taylor pulled Zahra into a crushing embrace. “It’s tradition! Just like my great, big Reunion Zahra Hug! One of only, what?-- three-- scheduled Zahra Hugs I get each year!”

When she managed to extricate herself from Taylor’s embrace, an then another one from Liv, Zahra’s attention was caught by young Immy, who appeared to be twisting herself up like a pretzel next to the walkway out to the Jake’s plane.

“Uh, you all right there, pipsqueak?” Zahra asked, just about managing not to smirk at the exaggerated runner’s stance the small girl had taken up.

“I’m getting on the plane first,” Immy proclaimed. “That baby’s gonna be up the front, so I won’t be. And Reggie says you’re more likely to survive a crash up the back. I’m not dumb!”

“Ha. No, you are not. Saving seats up the back for your parents, or can we join you? Between you and me, the pilot’s a walking disaster.”

“Hmm.” Immy stood up straight and looked Zahra and Craig over. “If you’re smart enough to come to the no-baby, no-dying seats, you can sit with me. Mommy and Daddy know about natural selection; they’ll understand.”

Craig’s mouth fell open. “Ice cold.”

Zahra sniggered appreciatively. “Craig,” she said, as Immy returned to doing stretches beside the walkway. “If anything happens to Aleister and Grace, we’re keeping this one. Kid’s going places.”

A short distance away, Taylor was oblivious to any jostling for positions on Jake’s supposed ‘death-trap’. Sean had come around the corner, grinning broadly and pushing a small pram. The world seemed to slow. Taylor knew Jake was calling out a greeting, but she couldn’t make out a word.

Sean approached, and greeted Taylor with warmth enough that it roused her from her anxious stupor. “Taylor, hi. It’s so good to see you again-- come here!”

She’d needed that hug. She buried her face in Sean’s chest and exhaled. It’s okay. It’s okay. “It’s so good to see you too.”

“Aaand, here’s L’il Captain Cranky.” Jake the pram closer. “Looks like you caught him in a good mood. Must be a special occasion.”

Taylor felt her heart skip a beat. Her mouth was suddenly dry. There he was. Tucked up in the pram, swaddled into a cozy bundle… fuzzy hair surrounding his calm face. She felt Estela’s hand on her shoulder, a quiet gesture of support. But maybe… maybe she was okay?

“Hey there, little man!” she purred, reaching to stroke a chubby cheek. “I can’t believe how much he’s grown already. Nice work, Top Gun.”

“Aw, shucks. I do my best. Haven’t got him flying a plane yet, but we’ve got time. You wanna hold, Princess?”

“If I won’t disturb him?”

“Nah, course not. If anything, it’ll get him more settled before the plane. Believe me, y’all are gonna want to pray this good mood lasts.”

“Hello….” Taylor’s voice shook with emotion. For so long, she’d feared this moment. Having that little baby in her arms for the first time since leaving the hospital. The distance had been for everyone’s benefit; certainly she wasn’t emotionally ready for a good while after the birth. This was okay, though. This was just her being cuddly Auntie Taylor. She was looking at that baby and was just damn proud that she’d been able to give her friends such a precious gift. When she looked at at Michael’s fathers, she was grinning from ear to ear. They were so happy. “Guys, he’s just… amazing. And I can’t wait to see his two daddies in action.”

“What, you’re flying all the way to La Huerta just to watch the competitive diaper changing?”

“Can I give him a pat?” Liv piped up, peering over her mother’s arms at Michael.

“He’s not a dog, weirdo,” Reggie teased.

Liv brushed off her cousin’s remark, and gently stroked the baby’s leg. Since he’d gone off to live with Jake and Sean, her insecurities had faded dramatically. Looking at Michael gave her warm, fuzzy feelings, but she was sure this wasn’t what having a sibling felt like. This was just another cousin, albeit an extra special one, having been a visitor for so long.

Sean watched quietly, his eyes full of affection. This would be one reunion trip that he’d never forget.

“Liv, if you like, you can have a cuddle with him on your lap when we’re on the plane.”

“Ooh! Yes, please!”

Then, Michelle and Quinn made an appearance, with six-year-old Isla and two-year-old Conor in tow. And of course, they made a beeline straight for the growing crowd around baby Michael.

“Hey, Meech! Meech!” Craig called out.

“You’ll be lucky,” Zahra scoffed. “We all know these people are suckers for babies….”

________________________

La Huerta, 2023

Her arm wrapped around the little bundle on her chest, and Estela’s arm wrapped around her shoulder, Taylor walked proudly out to the central rotunda in Catalyst Village, where the group had gathered for brunch-- not breakfast, for some of the number had desperately needed a sleep-in after the night before.

It was not a new thing for Taylor and Estela to join their fellow Catalysts-- their family-- for reunion festivities, but this was something different. What they were sharing now was themselves at a most monumental turning point, vulnerable as they tumbled into some wonderful unknown. Holding onto her baby daughter and stepping out into the sun, Taylor couldn’t feel any trepidation for what lay ahead, she was simply ecstatic.

There was a cacophony of gasps and coos, oohs and aahs as they approached, all eyes going straight for the tiny person Taylor was holding.

“Hey,” she said, unable to repress the grin that was fast spreading across her face. “Do you think we might have room for a new member of the gang?”

Estela was beaming, alight with elation and love. “Everyone who hasn’t met her yet, this is Liv. Olivia Andromeda Montoya. Our little girl.”

Quinn clapped her hands to her mouth. “Oh, you guys! She’s divine! Oh my god….”

Taylor walked over to Grace, who had little Reginald perched upon her hip.

“Would Reggie like to say hi?”

“I think Reggie would love to,” Grace said softly, smiling at her young son’s wide-eyed expression. He certainly didn’t meet many babies living on La Huerta. “Look, honey! Who’s Auntie Taylor got? Who’s this?”

“Buh-buh-buh?” Reggie reached out a chubby hand and patted the blanket.

“See, Reggie?” Grace cooed. “This is the baby from Tia Estela’s tummy. This is baby Liv.”

“Ih.”

“That’s it, sweetheart. Nice and gentle.”

“Good boy, Reggie,” Taylor said. “Looks like this could be the start of a beautiful friendship.”

One of many. Taylor knew it as she did the rounds. Their family welcomed Liv with the joy of close relatives, as if she were theirs, born into the fold and taken with open arms.

The baby stirred, and Craig made a sound of a higher pitch than anyone present had previously thought possible, which promptly earned a glare from Estela and made baby Reggie, now sitting on Aleister’s lap, burst into tears.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, you idiot!” Aleister hissed, as he tried to placate his son.

“Um, Craiggers, I think Estela would prefer it if you didn’t make the baby want to crawl back up the hole she came from.”

“Yes, that would be preferable,” Estela growled.

Liv grumbled, her face screwed up in protest.

“Sorry, mija. You’ll learn to love these people, trust me.”

“You really think so?” Craig asked jovially. “Thanks, Estela! I’ll babysit for you anytime.”

Quinn chuckled. “I hope you realise that there’s going to be some heavy competition for babysitting privileges. Bubba’s gonna be spoilt rotten!”

Taylor could feel it. From every one of her friends. Liv was their family, and they loved her.

Baby girl, you are so, so lucky.

___________________________

La Huerta, 2033

Finally, home.

Taylor didn’t know if she’d ever been more ready to step foot back on La Huerta, but from the moment she stepped off the plane, she felt lighter in herself than she’d done in weeks.

It became clear very quickly that she wasn’t alone in that sense of relief. As if by magic, her effervescent Liv was back; the cloud that had been hanging over her head unable to follow into what was the family’s sanctuary. Liv had been seated next to Quinn and Michelle’s daughter, Isla, through the flight; the younger girl all but talking Liv’s ear off. Then, once they’d hit the beach, Reggie and the twins had joined them, and play had come effortlessly. Now the intrepid adventurer she was meant to be, Liv was accepted and wanted; in her element with people she could trust. And Taylor felt herself letting go. For this shining time, she didn’t have to worry about her daughter at all.

Feeling that her loved ones were contented, far more so than she'd seen them in months, Estela wandered over to join Aleister on the beach. She settled down in the sand beside him, looking over the children as they splashed about in a sparkling sea.

“This is nice,” she said, stretching out her body and feeling the sun’s rays. All this fresh air and sunshine, she knew, would do them all good, especially her wife. “I’ve missed this. I think we all have.”

“How is Olivia? Since the, er, unfortunate incident?”

“Well, school’s been harder. Actually, it’s been absolutely horrible. But it’s done and finished. She’s not going back there. I’m just so damn relieved neither of them got hurt. I never thought it would be Reggie getting in a fight.”

For several long moments, Aleister silently watched his son playing in the waves, swinging his little sisters around in his arms and flinging them into the water. Reginald wasn’t a fighter; that he’d been pushed to violence spoke volumes of just how much that school had failed him-- and Liv, who’d valiantly had his corner, oblivious even to what had triggered the outburst.

“For the longest time, Reggie wouldn’t say what the fight was about. We could both tell that whatever it was had hurt him terribly. What we learned after several long talks…. The other boy had been saying things about Erin. I don’t know the details, nor do we want to, but they were cruel.”

Estela’s eyes had grown wide, then hardened with outrage. “Oh, shit. God, poor Reggie.” She shook her head, anger bubbling up inside her. How the hell was this still happening? How dare they? “Did the staff know exactly what happened?”

“At the time, no. Reginald refused to repeat what had been said. By the time Grace and I found out it was so long after the fact that when we brought the information to the school, they let it slide. To say I was fuming….”

“And these people are expecting you to happily enrol the girls at this school when that’s the care given?”

“Our thoughts precisely.” Aleister’s expression softened as he looked out to the beach. In the shallows, his daughters were jumping over small waves as they rolled in, and squealing with laughter. “I won’t have her be made to feel alone. This is all… new. For her, for us… she needs to feel safe to develop into a self she’s comfortable with. When you told me that you were taking Olivia out of school, my immediate gut reaction was fear. For Reginald.” He scoffed. “How utterly ridiculous that I should feel as if my son would need a bodyguard in his own school? And the more we’ve talked, it has gotten all the clearer that what we have in place isn’t working. We set up our main bases of operation on La Huerta and in San Trobida. The only reason we came back to the States was for the children’s education. Grace would have happily stayed in our La Huerta home; for so many years it was our sanctuary, the place that allowed us the freedom to truly grow. I think….” He hesitated. “If you don’t return to the States, it is likely that we will join you. As you say, it’s only matter of two years, or even one, before Reggie and Olivia will be changing schools as it is. We want to have that time with him. And for Erin… it’s time she needs to grow into herself.”

“Wow. That’s big… that’s huge. So, you’re just going to stay on La Huerta?”

“Perhaps. Certainly, in the short-term it is the ideal solution. But when we do enrol the children in a mainstream school, well… we’re considering moving the family to San Trobida in the future.”

Estela felt certain her eyes must have near popped right out of her head. “You would move to San Trobida?” With your transgender daughter? The initial wave of something close to panic subsided. The southern parts of the country were, these days, refreshingly egalitarian. Reforms had been sweeping under the democratically elected government, and the free San Trobida had embraced a fast-moving shift towards social equality. They weren’t talking about the same country that she attended school in some twenty years ago. “You’re… you’re serious?”

“I’m sorry, have you mistaken me for the type of person who uses humour to diffuse serious conversations? Yes, I am serious. I’ve seen first-hand what has been happening there, in no small part thanks to the mountains of our father’s fortune that you’ve quietly invested, and I would proudly see that growth continue.”

It was true; Estela’s home had come so far. The pull never lessened; nowhere else save for La Huerta could give her that same feeling. But growing up with ‘we’ve got to get out of here’ hammered in had lasting effects, as did the horrifying violence witnessed. How much would it take for her to believe in a new, better San Trobida? If it was just herself and Taylor, it’d be different, but they had Liv. It was why testing the waters with home-schooling between San Trobida and La Huerta had looked so promising.

“My mother wouldn’t recognise it,” she admitted, shaking her head. “She would have gone back to the university in San Trobida City, I’m sure of it. She’d help it get back to its former glory. We probably would have stayed in Las Rocas-- I can imagine her face if I could tell her it’s now part of what they’re calling ‘the Costa Libertad’! Maybe… maybe she’d have said I should stay.”

“If you don’t mind my saying, I’ve always thought you’d do what you saw fit, and to hell with what anyone else advised. Certainly, that’s been my experience.”

That made Estela chuckle. “I think I’m used to being more sure. Don’t worry; I haven’t lost my pig-headedness. I can still dig my heels in like nobody’s business.”

“That, I have seen for myself. But it is wise to have an open mind and get some balanced perspective before that stubborn streak of yours rears its ugly head.”

Estela bit her lip. If Liv flourished during time spent in San Trobida in the next year of home-schooling, it really would be hard to leave, especially if Aleister and Grace’s family were considering immigrating.

What more could you wish for?

“I’ve been resistant… for a long time,” she said, thoughtfully. “But every time I go back, San Trobida is looking more and more like somewhere we can be happy and safe. You know, Livi is my tio’s sun and his stars. I want her to have him there for her the way I did, the way he wants to be there for her. It is… hard to shake the fear, though. If I misjudge it; if I put too much hope in my home and she gets hurt or…. I don’t know if I’m too broken and traumatised to be rational about this.”

“And what does Taylor think?”

“Taylor would live in San Trobida. It’s simple to hop to and from La Huerta. That’s good for her; to be that close to Diego now he’s there almost permanently. She wants to be a bigger part of the forward momentum for young queer people. But, she worries. I know I’ve influenced that.”

“I feel that’s fairly inevitable,” Aleister conceded. “If there’s one thing I’d give Taylor, it’s that she’d very emotionally perceptive.”

“Yes, that’s her. I’d rather she didn’t take on board all of my baggage, because, let’s face it, that’s a whole lot of shit to carry. But if she wasn’t so empathetic, she wouldn’t be Taylor.”

“If we were to take Taylor and Olivia out of the equation, where would you want to be?”

Estela grumbled, damn well aware that Aleister knew the answer to that.

“I’d want to be home,” she said simply.

“You never were one for straight answers. Do you know how many headaches you’ve given me over the years?”

“Isn’t that what little sisters are for, hermano?” Estela laughed. Aleister had been forced to develop some amount of patience with her; by her reckoning, it had been good for him. Certainly it had put him in good stead for handling his more obtuse children, namely Immy.

“Like I said, we’re going into this with some flexibility. We don’t know what will be best for Liv, for all of us. We can start here, spend some time with Diego, then live back with my Tio for a few months. Then, I dunno, maybe travel around the world a little bit, expand Livi’s horizons. But down the road…. If settling in San Trobida is the direction you want to head in, that will be one hell of a pull for us.”

It’s just about decided it. That’s gonna be us. Our family. Our home.

[buckybarnesbingo]

BBB Week 29 Roundup!

And another reminder to everyone... Put this information at the top of your posts, for every fill you make, on every platform that you post.  All of it.  Including the letter/number and the prompt for the square you fill.  Including the tags.

If you don’t, we are not adding your fills to the spreadsheet, and we are not reblogging them.

Title: Collaborator: Link:  Square Filled: Ship: Rating: Major Tags: Summary: Word Count:

Title: 10/10 Collaborator: BookDragon13 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: C5 - Bucky/Clint Ship: WinterHawk Rating: Explicit Major Tags: anal play, implications of touch starvation, mentions of brainwashing Summary: Bucky trusts Clint enough to have sex with him Word Count: 401

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Title: My Dragon Thinks I'm in Love Collaborator: plutosrose Link: AO3 Square Filled: B1 - AU: Dragon Rider Ship: Stucky Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Alternate Universe - Dragon Riders, Alpine is a Dragon, forced conscription, King Alexander Pierce, Evil King, Dragons, References to Arranged Marriage, Blacksmith! Steve, so much soot, sexual content Summary: “Once a dragon is bonded to a human, they can understand our thoughts and feelings probably even better than we can,” Sam explained, only pausing to give Falcon a few scratches under the chin as she curled up in his lap. “For example, if you’re scared, they fight for you.” “Okay, so what does it mean if they just repeatedly headbutt someone?” - Bucky is a dragon rider, forced to serve in King Alexander's army. Stationed in a new village, he meets the blacksmith's apprentice, Steve. There's more to the village and there's more to Steve. Word Count: 5532

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Title: The Curious Witch and the Cursed Wolf - Chapter 4: A Choice and A Chance Collaborator: riotwritesthings Link: Tumblr Square Filled: C1 - “kiss me” Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: fantasy AU, witch!Tony, wolf!Bucky, fairytale vibes, Non-graphic injury Summary: Once upon a time there was a man, and a wolf. They both went into the forest looking for different things, and instead they found each other. Word Count: 2181

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Title: Model behaviour Collaborator: kalee60 Link: Tumblr Square Filled: B4 - Hair Braiding Ship: Stucky Rating: Teen Major Tags: model/photographer AU, meet cute Summary: When Bucky gets roped into helping his old college buddy Sam on a high end fashion shoot - he didn’t expect to meet one Steve Rogers, a model so gorgeous and nice he was rendered completely speechless (yet somehow Bucky still managed to be a babbling idiot). He also didn’t expect to end up in the photo shoot, nor have Steve’s hands so expertly taking him apart - in a completely non-sexual way. Bucky was certain his crush was as see through as the shorts he suddenly had to wear, but when their chemistry starts to light up in front of as well as behind the camera, will Bucky find the courage to speak up and say something? Or will he let Steve catwalk out of his life for good? Word Count: 4804

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Title: Preventative Measures Collaborator: lbibliophile-mcu Link: Tumblr Square Filled: K4 - Sticks and stones Ship: none Rating: Teen Major Tags: image edit, self-mutilation, ear trauma Summary: Sticks and stones may break my bones… but words turn me into a mindless killing machine. So Bucky takes matters into his own hands.

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Title: Sunday Morning Collaborator: plutosrose Link: AO3 Square Filled: B3 - Soft Ship: Stucky Rating: Mature Major Tags: Established Relationship, taking a relationship to the next level, apartment keys, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Teachers Summary: Bucky and Steve spend a quiet morning in bed together. Word Count: 860

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Title: Scrunchie Collaborator: saganarojanaolt Link: Tumblr Square Filled: K2 - Picture prompt Bucky meditating Ship: None Rating: Gen Major Tags: art Summary: art

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Title: Such Great Heights Collaborator: Faustess Link: AO3 Square Filled: C1 - picture of Bucky Barnes/WS running with a rifle Ship: Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow, unrequited Jack/Bucky Rating: Teen Major Tags: Brock threatens the Winter Soldier fairly graphically and is definitely a bad guy here. (Note: Rollins is not a bad guy in this series) Summary: Rollins can't have a relationship with the person he wants, so he's trying to move on with someone else. Maybe Rumlow doesn't take kindly to being the second-choice. Or, what Jack Rollins doesn't know might get him killed. Word Count: 2426

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Title: Monster in the Mirror Collaborator: alwaysabrighterdarkness Link: Tumblr Square Filled: Y1 - Monster Ship: none Rating: Teen Major Tags: art Summary: He’s stuck, trapped within his mind and the monster in the mirror.

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Title: Scent of my Nest Collaborator: TiBun Link: AO3 Square Filled: Nesting Ship: WinterHawk Rating: Teen Major Tags: A/B/O Summary: Bucky is not the same flirty alpha he had been before he left for war, and he isn’t quite sure how to handle his attraction to the team’s archer. Clint always manages to forget to keep track of his heat cycle, so when he finds himself in preheat one morning, he’s left scrambling to get ready for his heat. Normally, he’d use something of Nat’s as a calming scent in his nest, but his growing crush on Bucky leaves him hesitating on how to scent his nest. Word Count: 7772

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Title: Sacrifice: Part 3 Collaborator: startrekkingaroundasgard Link: Tumblr Square Filled: B1 - Time Travel Ship: WinterHawk Rating: Mature Major Tags: nakedness, pining, Bucky falls, ill-planned rescue, guilt, regret, injury, blood Summary: With Austria just around the corner, Clint psyches himself up to take the leap and confess his feelings to Bucky. When they’re on the train, he does everything in his power to stop him from falling but some things are inevitable. Word Count: 2837

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Title: show on the road Collaborator: jurassicworjd Link: AO3 Square Filled: C3 - Free Space Ship: BuckySam Rating: Teen Major Tags: swearing Summary: Sam thinks that he and Bucky desperately need to get out of the house after the events of Endgame, so he sets up a road trip and Bucky is not thrilled about this idea at all. Word Count: 1748

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Title: On a Mission Collaborator: Book-Dragon-13 Link: AO3 Square Filled: U2 - Mission Sex Ship: Bucky/Reader Rating: Explicit Major Tags: thigh riding, sexual content Summary: Bucky figures you out while the two of you are on a mission Word Count: 626

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Title: Beach Bucky Cutie Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: Tumblr Square Filled: U2 - Retirement Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: fandom craft, cross stitch Summary: Bucky is chilling on the beach and enjoying his retirement!  Sun’s out, guns out!

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Title: Ease Collaborator: alwaysabrighterdarkness Link: AO3 Square Filled: K2 - Service Top Ship: Stucky Rating: Explicit Major Tags: References to bad headspace, established dom/sub relationship, cock-warming, oral sex, subspace Summary: It was so gentle that it almost ached. Almost hurt when set against the overboiling thoughts and feelings warring for top billing. He leaned more heavily into the touch, needing the ache to chase all the rest of it away until there was nothing left but Bucky. Word Count: 2329

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Title: In the Shelter of Their Wings Collaborator: newtypeshadow Link: AO3 Square Filled: K2 - Poison Ship: Stuckony Rating: Teen Major Tags: wing AU Summary: Outside, Tony's mind commands the storm protecting their cabin. Inside, boyfriends Bucky and Steve take care of Tony's body. It's not Tony's fault that care requires cuddling. Word Count: 4036

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Title: Cat Naps Collaborator: ABrighterDarkness Link: Tumblr Square Filled: C2 - Alpine Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: art Summary: Alpine napping in CA shield with Bucky napping behind (blurred) 

[itsmyusualphannie]

the demons that bring us together (1/5)

Chapter 1/5: between the wars (ao3) Beta: @yourfriendlyblogstalker Artist: @candanandphilnot Warnings: none for this chapter

Summary: Dan knew he should be doing his patrols of London, especially with Valentine still on the loose, but he gets sidetracked and when he goes to a downworlder cafe, he meets Phil. The warlock isn’t like most downworlders. He is kind and caring, and weirdly enough, attracted to Dan.

Author Notes: written for @phandomreversebang! i saw this prompt on claiming and probably gave my fingers friction burn as i frantically picked it. and then it turned out the artist was none other than cal, who if anyone ever reads my tags on their fics i reblog will know, i adore. we nerded out over shadowhunters together and then i did this wholeass thing. it was loads of fun and i hope you like it as much as i loved writing it!

check out the art for this fic here!!

next chapter

~~~

Dan was on the rooftop of a Tesco when he first saw the shadow.

He had been crouched here only for a moment, pausing to catch his breath after scaling the side of the building. He hadn't needed to climb the building, but going around the building, where there a considerable amount of pedestrian traffic, threatened his discovery. He wasn't visible to regular humans of course, with the glamour rune snaking its way around his left forearm, but there was still a chance that someone could bump into him and would be rudely startled by an invisible person. In any case, Dan liked the height. It afforded him a better view of the sprawling city around him, the buildings of various sizes and shapes, and the numerous people and vehicles making their way between them. Dan didn't try to focus on any individual person or item, although it wouldn't be that hard. The delicate lines of a farsighted rune on his temple allowed him hawk-like vision, giving him the ability to distinguish even the minute details of someone's expression from half a mile away.

Even without that rune, Dan likely would have seen the shadow in the alley beside Tesco, the tendrils of dark slipping around a pair of squat dumpsters. It trailed along the concrete wall and slithered across the empty alley, sliding around the corner out of sight.

Dan was on his feet in an instant, throwing himself across the length of the rooftop after the shadow with a recklessness that would have sent him plummeting to the ground two stories below if he wasn't protected by the massive equilibrium rune permanently etched across his back, allowing him perfect balance and a near-inability to lose his footing. The other building that the shadow had slipped around was across the alley, almost ten feet away, but Dan didn't hesitate before throwing himself into the air above the alley, landing with a thump of his lightly-padded boots and rolling to absorb the impact. He was up again in an instant, feet travelling swiftly along the edge of the rooftop. He moved far faster than the shadow had been moving, but by the time he reached the corner that it had slipped around, it was gone.

Dan wouldn't let that discourage him, though. He hadn't seen anything on patrol in weeks, and he wasn't planning on letting this get away from him now. He didn't know exactly what the creature was, or what it was planning, but any second that it was out in the mortal world, people - hunters, Downworlders, and mortal humans - were all in danger.

He grabbed the edge of the roof and flipped over it in a swift motion that sent his head whirling, but only for that instant. He fell, arms outspread to maintain his balance, and he landed solidly on the ground over thirty feet below. The impact jarred up his legs, but it was absorbed almost instantly by the power of the matching stamina runes on both of his thighs. He was off again, feet pounding against the ground as he sprinted down the pavement. There were only a few people back here in this narrow alley behind the main buildings, but he avoided them swiftly, dodging around each person walking toward or away from him. Not one of them noticed him - they were all mortals, after all, and Dan's glamour rune concealed him from anyone who was mortal. It wouldn't do to be noticed either on his patrol, where he regularly climbed the occasional building and jogged through alleys and down pavements, or on this high-speed chase.

It wasn't much of a chase if he couldn't see his prey, though. Dan didn't slow, his eyes keen as his gaze darted from one side of the alley to the other, but he didn't see a hint of movement that gave away the shadow he had seen. There was little chance that it had moved much faster than he had pursued, unless it had seen him. That...that was a possibility. Dan wasn't the most subtle person, after all.

But then, he hadn't seen anything in so long, even with the London forces scattered and bedraggled, that he was eager to hunt down whatever this was. He scanned every article of trash, every toppled bin, every doorway where the shadow might be lurking. His arms pumped at his sides, but his fingers twitched to grab the twin, narrow blades strapped to his sides. Although he had a collection of throwing knives stashed in various parts of his clothes, he was much better with hand-to-hand combat. Despite not having the familiar presence of his parabatai running beside him, Dan had no doubt that he could take down this creature with ease.

If he could fucking find it, that was.

He reached the end of the alley in another dozen long strides, skidding to a stop as he hesitated between the two directions where it branched away. His gaze skipped between them, and he weighed the merits of one over the other. The one to his left seemed to lead out to the open road, packed with helpless, mortal civilians, while the right fell further between tall buildings, dark and dank with shadows. Even his sharp vision couldn't make out all of the details in that one. Dan could only hope to guess the shadow's intentions, since he wasn't quite sure what it was exactly, but...he didn't think that even a creature this vile would be stupid enough to attack mortals yet. Twilight was falling, but the sun was still an hour above the horizon.

Dan's phone buzzed in his pocket, suddenly, and he was jolted from the intensity of his thoughts. It prompted him to move, and so he glanced one last time at the more brightly lit alley to his left, then he threw himself down the one to his right. His foot skidded on something wet, but he kept moving, regaining his balance with a flail of his arm. He didn't risk answering his phone right now. He needed both hands available in case he needed to grab his weapons. He didn't stop running, but he did slow on occasion when he passed a particularly dark section of the alley, glancing over it to make sure there was no movement. He ran, and ran, and ran, and even with his stamina runes, he was a little out of breath by the time he burst from the alley and out onto another main street.

He stopped then, before he ploughed over a woman pushing a dog stroller in front of her, and glanced back behind him at the alley. There was something ominous about it, but Dan did not think that anything living or demonic was inhabiting it now. He pulled in a deep breath, furious suddenly at his loss, and tugged out the phone that had been vibrating in his pocket for some time now.

"Hello?" he answered, voice raspy from his run and its disuse on his lengthy patrol. He hadn't spoken to anyone in over ten hours.

"Dan!" said a chirpy voice on the other end. His parabatai.

"Hi, Louise," he said.

"Just calling to check up on you," she said brightly. "I felt like a...rush of adrenaline or something through our bond. Everything good?"

Dan cast one last irritated glance at the alley behind him. "Yeah, I saw something, but it got away. I'm still looking."

"Where are you?" Her cheerful tone had sobered instantly. "I'm still on my patrol, but I can head that way right now."

Dan turned back to face the main street and his gaze travelled over the buildings. He sighed, something deep and weary. His patrol bordered the edge of an area where Downworlders lived, he knew that, but he hadn't realised that this alley led right to it. "I'm downtown. Don't worry about it, I think I've lost it for good. I'm going to look around, though."

Louise snorted, almost a laugh. "Don't antagonise any vampires."

"That was one time," Dan dismissed. He glanced to his left, where a bustling marketplace intermingled both mortals and Downworlders. This area looked like it was mostly wolves, although no human would be able to tell. Dan knew from his lifelong training how to spot the differences in their gait, their speech, their mannerisms, and he could spot the loping werewolves from a mile away. Here, he didn't have to - there were dozens of them along the pavements and ducking around humans and bustling in and out of shops.

"I'll call you if I need help," Dan said into his phone, and then he hung up and slipped it back in his pocket. He wasn't particularly interested in going into the marketplace, as he doubted the creature could have made its way in there with so many wolves and their keen noses, but - he looked to his right - ah, there was a quiet, snug bakery nestled right up against the alley. A side door, one that looked like it was some sort of employee entrance, was cracked open, a sliver of light spilling across the dark shadows of the alley. Dan's gaze narrowed in on it. It was a clear invitation for anything to slip through.

Dan resisted his own temptation to slide through the door and instead went around to the front of the building. He couldn't see any mortals inside, so he didn't bother removing his glamour rune - any downworlders inside would be able to see him, anyway.

The door tinkled with a bright welcome as he pushed it open and stepped inside, and Dan had to blink at the sudden light inside that assaulted his vision. It was cosy, with a dozen round tables with chairs, a long counter with displays of pastries and breads, a range of coffee machines and devices that Dan was vaguely sure were some sort of torture instruments, and a few scattered customers. It was silent inside, that sort of dead air that made it obvious that everyone had just stopped talking as Dan entered.

The silence was broken a moment later, though, as a tall, dark-haired man stood up from where he'd evidently been crouched behind the counter. He wore a bright pink apron with ruffles over a sinfully tight blue shirt, crooked glasses, and an easy smile that he directed toward Dan.

"Hi!" he said. "Welcome to the Mage Cave."

Dan hurt inside a little at the name. It was horrible. It was evident that it was named for a reason, though, as Dan could see in the next instant as the man behind the counter waved a hand at one of the coffee machines. Sparks of blue and yellow sputtered from his hands, and the coffee machine reluctantly began spurting a steady stream of coffee into the glass container beneath it. He was a warlock, then.

"What can I get for you?" said the warlock, still beaming at Dan. He clearly knew what Dan was, as his gaze travelled briefly to the runes visible on Dan's forearms, neck, and temple, but his smile didn't falter. And he'd just used visible magic in front of Dan, so he didn't seem intimidated in the slightest by Dan's status as a Shadowhunter.

Dan glanced at the other patrons in the shop, who casually looked away from him and returned to their quiet conversations as if he hadn't caused any sort of interruption. They were all clearly werewolves. Dan thought wryly that this barista could probably call the shop 'Wolf Cafe' and it would still ring true.

He crossed the cafe in a few long strides, stopping before the counter and the light gaze of the warlock. He glanced up at the menu hanging above his head, etched in what looked like handwriting but was clearly drawn with magic. The edges were cut a little too sharp, too clean for a hand to have etched it. He barely looked at the options before deciding. "I'll get a caramel macchiato with almond milk. Large iced, please."

"Coming right up!"

Dan saw the scrawled name on the warlock's name badge just before he turned away to make the drink.  Phil :)  it said. He watched as the barista moved quickly behind the counter, hands nimble as he prepared the drink. He didn't hesitate to use his magic, fingers flicking with quick movements at various ingredients to pull them closer to himself in a flurry of colourful sparks. Dan was well aware that he should be keeping an eye on the other occupants of the shop, but somehow he couldn't look away from the warlock. He was lean, but his arms were still corded with muscle, visible through the taut sleeves of his too-tight, bright blue shirt. The shirt was a crime to fashion, Dan decided, but it didn't look bad at all on this guy.

"Here you are," said Phil as he returned to the counter and slid the drink to Dan. His smile was bright and Dan noted the way he let his fingers linger against Dan's. "That'll be three pounds."

"Not a bad price," Dan commented as he pulled his phone from his pocket again and used it to pay for his drink at the machine reader. "You get a lot of business?"

"Sure," the warlock agreed amiably. "Not too much, but enough to keep running."

As if this Phil needed customers to keep his business running. Dan was quite sure that it was just a hobby, something to pass the time. He'd seen a few other warlocks take up such interests when they were bored, or even just a front for their underground potion or magic business. Dan forced himself not to think about that, though. He wasn't here to search for information about this warlock.

"Need your receipt?"

"Nah." Dan waved it away. "Save the environment and all."

Phil eyed Dan's visible runes sketched onto every available body surface. "Yeah," he said, clear amusement evident in his tone. He hit a few buttons on the till. "All right, you're good to go. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Dan cast a swift glance over his shoulder. None of the wolves in the shop was paying attention to them - that he could tell, anyway. He was sure their ears were pricked for anything he would say. In fact, he was counting on it.

"Actually, yeah." Dan faced the warlock and nodded severely. "As I'm sure you know, the Institute has a few patrols near this area. Mine is one of them."

"Hmm," said Phil, nodding as Dan talked. He wiggled his fingers and a mug swirled into existence, accompanied by a clash of blue sparks. He raised it to his lips and took a casual sip, and Dan couldn't help but notice the gleaming rings on almost every one of his fingers.

“I caught a glimpse of a shadow demon, and although I’m not sure of the type, it looked dangerous. It’s certainly fast, since I couldn’t catch up to it, and I'm pretty sure it came this way." Dan was only half-sure that Phil was listening, with the absent way that the warlock was bobbing his head, but he continued regardless, "So I just wanted to warn you and the other Downworlders here. If you see anything or even suspect something is hanging around, I'd appreciate it if you let me know so I can take care of it."

Phil set his mug down on the counter, and his rings clicked quietly against the ceramic as he did so. "I'll definitely do that," he said, almost casual, but his eyes were sharp. "But I can guarantee you that it didn't come in here. I can tell you're thinking it."

Dan had been thinking it, and he didn't particularly care if Phil knew it. He just shrugged. "Your back door was open."

The warlock waved a dismissive hand. Light sputtered from his hand and, from the back, Dan could hear a door slam shut. "It's fine," he said. "My wards wouldn't even let a rat in within my knowledge, much less an entire shadow demon."

"Your wards wouldn't happen to extend beyond this shop, would they?"

Phil's gaze was keen as he lifted his mug and took another drink. "No," he said. "Too much effort."

Dan greatly suspected that the mug had been conveniently lifted at that exact moment in order to hide a smirk. He wasn't sure what the warlock was hiding, but it could be a number of things. He didn't think it was an entire demon, though. Despite warlocks' half-demon parentage, Dan had never met one who would actually work together with a demon.

Dan also greatly suspected that he wouldn't be getting anything else from Phil. Although downworlders, in general, would work with the hunters if necessary for protection from demons, they didn't go out of their way to help out. Phil wouldn't be any different.

"Well," said Dan, "thanks for the help and the drink." He tipped the icy beverage at Phil, who raised his own mug in reply.

"Anytime," said Phil, and this time he didn't raise the mug quite fast enough to hide his wide smile.

Dan briefly wondered how much trouble he would get into for punching a warlock. It probably wasn't worth it.  Probably. He turned to leave, slipping a glance to the wolves still slumped over their drinks at the various tables. One had been openly watching him, and quickly looked away, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. Good. If they'd all been listening, then they'd all be on the alert for anything suspicious hanging around.

Dan left the shop, the bell tinkling again, and headed back down the pavement toward the alley he'd come from. He considered tossing the drink, almost unwilling to drink the concoction with whatever potions or magic the warlock may have imbued into it, but he didn't want to waste an entire macchiato, so he raised it to his lips and took a short sip. It was good. Surprisingly so. He hummed and continued on his way, resolving to toss it before he got back to the Institute. His patrol was almost over, after all, so he might as well head back and report what he'd seen. The shadow was long gone, but Dan suspected it was still nearby.

Phil was also suspicious, Dan decided, and he would need to return at some point to check up on him. It had nothing to do with the broad stretch of his shoulders beneath that shirt, or his crooked smile, or the wrinkles that sunk around his eyes when he looked at Dan. It was purely business.

Dan took another gulp of his macchiato. Damn, it really was good.

~~~

next chapter

[littlemarvelfics]

Ghost: Chapter Three

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Word Count: about 1,100

Warnings: none this chapter but check the series warnings 

A/N: Hello all! Sorry this is late, I was avoiding tumblr until I saw Captain Marvel but I’m back! But there are a few changes. I’m not putting any links or tags in the original posting of anything I write.  I think it might be hiding me from searches and the lack of notes on some of these things are bumming me out. My bio is updated to help y’all navigate (I hope). I’m rebloging with tags immediately after posting. Now on with the show! 

Steve sat in his apartment reading a book and listening to the latest mix you had sent him when suddenly, he was submerged in darkness. He immediately jumped up, moving towards his shield that he had left propped up on the wall in the hallway. Picking it up quickly, he walked over to the window overlooking the city- everything in the immediate area was dark. A quick call to Tony eased his worries, it was just a typical blackout. Steve relaxed and let the tension leave his shoulders until he heard a noise come from your apartment.

“Shit, fuck, damn,” you cursed, clearly frustrated.

Steve walked over to the door, grabbing his keys and dropping his shield before making his way to your apartment to check and make sure you were okay. He knocked on your door and a few moments later, your door swung open. You looked up at Steve, confused.

“Steve? What’s up?”

“I heard you a few minutes ago and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh, thanks,” you said with a smile. “I’m all good, I just tripped over some books.”

“Okay, well you know where to find me if you need anything,” he responded.

He turned to walk away but stopped when he heard you call his name.

“Hey, Steve? If you don’t have any big blackout plans, do you wanna maybe hang out for a bit?”

“That would be great,” he said with a smile.

“Is my place okay? I don’t wanna leave my cat alone.”

“Of course,” he said, moving back towards your door as you moved aside to let him in.

Steve looked around as he walked into your apartment. Your living room had mismatched furniture that looked like it was probably from a second-hand shop. The space felt homey, with throw blankets and pillows scarred around. Books were scattered around, some on shelves and some in piles on the floor. What really caught his attention was one of your walls. It was painted a deep navy blue and had picture frames and shelves scattered around it. The shelves held vintage cameras and a notebook or two. The picture frames held a variety of different things. Some had hand drawn pictures, others had pictures of nature and there were a few from concerts. Steve finally turned his attention to you. Your hair was piled messily on top of your head, your face free of makeup. You were wearing a simple outfit, shorts that looked like they were for sleeping, a teeshirt and a plaid button down. Fuzzy socks covered your feet.

“Sorry for the mess, I wasn’t expecting company or a blackout.”

Steve was about to answer when he was interrupted by a large mass of fur, weaving his way between his legs purring loudly.

“And that’s Winston. He clearly has no manners,” you said with a chuckle.

Steve laughed and crouched down to scratch Winston on the head.

“Do you want something to drink?” you asked.

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Okay, make yourself at home. I’m gonna grab some more candles from my bedroom.”

Steve watched as you walked down the hall towards your bedroom and then wandered into your living room. He took a closer look at the navy wall that contained multiple photos. He recognized a few of the landmarks in some of the pictures, local places around Brooklyn. All of the pictures were newer, except for one. It was an older picture, a little girl and a boy who looked a bit older. Steve could tell you were the girl in the picture, the boy looked like was probably your older brother. You were both smiling wild, arms slung around each other.

He turned around when he heard you set candles down on the coffee table. Steve pointed to the picture he had just been admiring.

“Is that your brother?” he asked.

“Yes,” you answered shortly.

“Do you see him often?”

“No,” you hesitated, “He died a while back.”

“Oh, Y/N I’m so sorry,” Steve started but you cut him off quickly.

“It’s okay Steve, really.”

You quickly moved onto lighter subjects before you circled back around to more substantial topics. You and Steve were sat on the couch facing each other.

“My ma had just died. My dad had been gone for a few years at that point. Bucky was there the whole time. When I found out she was sick all the way to the funeral. Bucky’s house was so different from mine. I was an only child and Bucky had three younger siblings. His house was always loud and I loved it. His ma didn’t care that she already had four kids running around, I was welcome anytime. Anyway, after my mom’s funeral, he walked me back to my apartment, it was empty. And honestly, I was dreading it. But I was this tiny kid who always had something to prove and I just wanted to prove it to Bucky that I could get by own. And he wasn’t having it. He knew I could get by on my own but he told me I didn’t have to,” he finished before turning the questioning onto you. “What about you? Your parents?”

“Well, I grew up out in the country. My dad was a doctor and my mom stayed at home with my brother. When I was ten and my brother was sixteen, he died. He overdosed. I never really understood why he started doing drugs, I guess I still don’t. But after that, it was bad in my house. It didn’t take long for my mom to walk out on us. She just vanished one day, she didn’t leave me a note or anything. It only took a few months for my dad to start dating the woman that would become my stepmom, she was a doctor at the same hospital. She didn’t really like me all too much,” you said with a humorless laugh. “They wanted me to be a doctor and I wanted anything but that. So I applied to art schools and I got in, that’s actually why I moved to the city. They were both pissed. My dad sat me down before I left and said if I decided to go to that school, I wouldn’t be welcome back in their home. I thought they were full of shit so, at the end of my freshman year, I went back home. I knocked on the door and my dad took one look at me, said I wasn’t welcome in his home and he slammed the door in my face. I call on holidays so they know that I’m alive, but they probably wouldn’t care one way or another.”

Steve leaned forward to wipe away a few tears you hadn’t realized had fallen. Steve leaned in and paused right before his lips met yours, silently asking for permission. The slight nod you gave him was the only answer he needed before pressing his lips to yours.

[cyberenergyshock]

taking a closer look at the jinzo archetype & its members

there’s very few monsters in the yugioh tcg that actually have stated lore- konami seems to really like implied lore through cart art and card effects, and relationships within archetypes as well as cards outside of them. with that in mind, i want to share my observations about the five monsters in the jinzo archetype!

before i begin, i want to get one simple but very important technicality out of the way, and that is this: robots, androids and cyborgs are all different things.

robot: a machine created with little/no intended resemblance to a human being, including bipedal robots like gundams who are meant to be piloted 

androids: a machine created with a clear intended resemblance to humans, either by looking exactly like one or looking very humanoid

cyborg: a human or humanoid with mechanical enhancements

the japanese name of this archetype is 人造人間 (jinzoningen), which translates literally to “artificial human” and translates officially to english as “android”. in addition, the original japanese names of all of the jinzo monsters are as follows:

人造人間－サイコ・ショッカー (Jinzōningen - Saiko Shokkā)

人造人間－サイコ・ジャッカー (Jinzōningen - Saiko Jakkā)

人造人間－サイコ・リターナー (Jinzōningen - Saiko Ritānā)

人造人間－サイコ・ロード (Jinzōningen - Saiko Rōdo)

人造人間７号 (Jinzōningen Nana-gō)

as well as having “android” prefixed before all of their names, the archetype is also all purely machine-type, as opposed to several other monsters who clearly have cyborg augmentation but retain their original typing, like giga gagagigo. based on this, it’s safe to say that the “jinzo” monsters are all purely mechanical beings—they are NOT humans who have been experimented on, or who have received cyborg augmentation.

moving onto the monsters themselves, in order of release date:

this card was released before the first actual “jinzoningen” monster, and considering that the word “jinzoningen” is also just a general word meaning “android”, it’s debatable whether this card is even technically part of the archetype, but since the wiki treats it as one, i’m just gonna go for it anyways. jinzo #7 is a very shoddy-looking android, and the numbers printed on his armor seem to imply that he is attempt #7 of his creator’s attempt to build a functioning machine, since the assumed jinzo numbers 1-6 are nonexistent in the card game. and based on his similarity in appearance to the other jinzoningen monsters, he very well may have been the first step, the “gateway” to the creation of the others. his effect is very simple, but possibly implies that he has exceptionally high speed or agility to avoid the other monsters in the way of the player, and also to make up for his poor offensive and defensive capabilities.

jinzo - lord was released years after the original jinzo in 2008, but i’m putting them both together in the same bit of analysis, because based on lord’s way of summoning, the implications are clear—jinzo - lord is simply an upgraded version of jinzo, rather than a separate monster entirely. 

unlike #7, jinzo is clearly a polished machine, fully complete in his construction and capable of several highly destructive functions. his name “psycho shocker” implies strong psychic abilities that are capable of inflicting physical damage, and his attack in the anime, “cyber energy shock”, is an electric ball of pure dark energy. also implied by his attribute, dark energy most likely contributes to a large part of his function, possibly held internally by a strong magnetic or magical field. his main skill is disabling trap cards with his presence, which can translate more generally as incredibly high intelligence and strong psychic ability that allows him to forsee danger before it happens and disable the things that he already knows pose a threat. in his upgraded “lord” form, these abilities are strengthened even further, now having the ability to outright destroy these threats and inflict karmic return blows with his psychic powers. he also gains six tendrils sprouted from his back, which may be used for restraint and generating electrical shocks from the spikes at the tips. since he is a machine, he may also use these to download information from other machines into his CPU, based on their flat appearance, as if they’re meant to be inserted somewhere. overall, being the ace of his entire archetype, he is a very powerful, very intelligent android capable of great harm in many different ways, though he appears to be somewhat of a glass cannon—his defensive capabilities are below average, so his only option is to serve his purpose with his several different abilities, or give into being overpowered by the enemy; a black-and-white choice fitting for a mechanical mind, but his high intelligence may imply also imply sentience, making his decisions not so clear-cut should he form attachments to others.

returner is a comparably small android to all the others, looking to be the size of an average human. he shares a lot of the same qualities as #7, but in returner’s case, he seems to be built with more of an intentional emphasis on agility, being incredibly thinly built and only possessing a large CPU where his head is and large shoulderpads for protection. the purpose that his second effect seems to imply is a sort of “distress call” upon destruction. his defensive capabilities are only slightly below-average, and he can hold his own against weaker opponents with ease. upon being destroyed, he immediately calls for the return of a fallen comrade, possibly implying that he uses his remaining energy and power to reanimate a destroyed or dysfunctional jinzo for just enough time to take down the larger opponent they were facing, before both of them return to ruin. 

interestingly enough, despite being a “call for help” type of android, he was built with a human-like mouth that was then sewn shut, making him unable to actually speak, which is much more visually gruesome than the other mouth-like masks the other jinzoningens have. guess the creator of the jinzoningens had a pretty messed up sense of humor. 😱

jector is very interesting, as he seems to have been built as a direct defensive counterpart to jinzo himself. his japanese name, “psycho jacker”. directly implies his purpose as a hacker, as do the multitude of tendrils connected directly to his CPU. his second ability allows him to use his full power to hack into the opponents strategies and reveal all of their abilities, providing intelligence to his team and then immediately requesting backup from jinzo, bringing him to attention, and if the situation is dire enough, directly bringing him to jector’s location. his first ability—to change his data to “jinzo”’s—is what his english name implies; the ability to “project” himself into jinzo’s role. this way, not only is he able to utilize jinzo’s specific support items, such as “amplifier” (which can ONLY be equipped to jinzo), but he is also able to take on the full appearance and abilities of jinzo - lord, who can only be summoned by tributing a face-up “jinzo” on the field and cannot be summoned any other ways. his intelligence is possibly even superior to jinzo’s, as he seems to have been built with the sole intent of creating an incredibly competent data-gathering machine who can then use it to support jinzo’s conquest. jector is, without a doubt, the best support member for jinzo, possessing high defensive capabilities, the ability to hack into vital intelligence for his team, and even the ability to copy jinzo - lord’s own abilities in a pinch. 

whoever created these androids seems to have been trying to create an android with a combination of human intelligence and raw destructive power, and have been trying for a while before they eventually got it right. upon jinzo’s creation, their focus moved on to creating androids to support his conquest, resulting in the birth of jector and returner. jinzo is a dangerous weapon capable of mass destruction, but he may also possess too much intelligence to be held down by any one commanding force for too long. jector and returner are loyal only to jinzo, so wherever he decides to go they will most likely follow. there’s really no telling what such intelligent androids would decide to do if left to their own devices, since, despite their attribute, there’s nothing in their cards or their anime appearances that directly imply that they’re evil or destruction-bent. there was that one jinzo spirit from GX that wanted to become human so he could destroy the world or whatever bUT COME ON, GIVE THEM A CHANCE-

anyways, let me know what y’all think or if you have anything to add!! reblog with commentary, reply, add stuff in the tags, or anything you want, really, this was really fun to write and it could be a fun discussion to have! :>

[mannentilminkardemomme]

Dear Mutuals,

This gif set is for you.

I haven’t been online since Friday 23rd, which is quite poopy of me, since I haven’t answered your kind messages and reblogged your posts, which I really enjoy doing. I’ve had a self-induced SKAM hiatus. I feel really happy when I see a fellow mutual post a gif set, text post or a piece of art they’ve created for this wonderful SKAMily. I’ve just been in my emo state and closed myself off from tumblr and the world of SKAM (which you can see from my unupdated blog). I didn’t know how the reaction of it all ending would be here on tumblr, and since my cat has started to refuse being a cuddly ball of fluff in which I bury all my tears in, I didn’t have anyone to be around with physically (except for my cat and horse, but they don’t really understand when I go all emo on them) to help solve my many personal emotions that were raised with the last clip and all of the seasons of SKAM. But I’ve revived myself, and can see myself staying here on tumblr until the foreseeable future. I’ve made too many friends to just shut myself from tumblr for much longer, and I’d really like to continue being in touch with you all.

This gif set is each clip that Evak kissed<3 Sorry for not being online, sorry sorry sorry.

@br1skeby Faen Johanne, min Guru. I hope you know what you mean to me, so I’ll spare you a huuuugee multi-chapter piece of writing to show that (unless if you need a sudden boost of happiness, then dm me and I’ll be on it like a car bonnet)<3 Your writing metaphorically kills me each time you drop a new bomb ass chapter. I’m really happy I’m able to fangirl with you, be it over Evak, Yousana or Levi ;)

@beanievaltersen Hehe :3 As long as you’re happy with your new mattress, Evak and I am happy too :D  You must know what you mean to me too, but we need to revive our crazy theories about what all the Skam Squads are up to! Also, it’s an absolute honour to beta-read your artistry works!! kdjfakd I have no chill about how much I love it!!!

@du-er-ikkealene Elise, you will forever be my soup-bro :D (I really hope you remember why I’mma call you that, if not, I’ll remind you!) Taakk tak tak tak for introducing me to Kensington! They, and you, have inspired me to make cool gif sets of their beautiful, meaningful lyrics, and you will also forever continue to put me in awe of all the various, creative names you make up for Noorhelm :P  (Plus, ily)

@isakschili I’m now listening to Kent on a daily basis, thanks to you, crazy Swedish music-loving girl :*  And you neeeeeed to drop the second chapter of your fic ASAP!! You can’t just leave me hanging on an ending like that-- you’ll end up making me even more mad for your fic than I already am ;)  And, in my lil head, you’re my musician buddy! Once a musician buddy, always a musician buddy.

@julieseven Daaayyyyyaamnnnnnn Sue. You must also already know what you mean to me. But seriously tho... If you don’t, then open whatsapp later tonight, and you’ll find out fo sure then.

@levok I’m on the countdown for roasting the new US Skam with you! That’s the only reason as to why I’m probably going to watch it!! And you have contributed to me writing better Danish and thinking outside the box in regards to theories and all, which is really ace! Tak, tak tak tak!! And you’re a bloody wonderful person to talk to! You never fail to make me snort air out of my nose, which basically counts as a laugh.

@prinsenimittliv Tenna I promise I’m going to write that headcanon for you! I feel really bad that I’ve left it so long, but it’s given me more time to think about different angles I can take it from<3 For every beautiful piece of art you create, I will in return write you especially a headcanon! Alt for dig, girl! Plus, dayyYYYAAAmmmMMMMmmmmm your haircut looks hella fine! :*

@chillerhjemmeisak I keep on saying it, and I’ll say it again: GOOD LUCK ON YOUR A-LEVELS!!!! :D  I promise you that with the power of The Biology Buddies, you will ace them! And that’s a promise! In an AU, we’re running around London in crazy Chris-inspired outfits.

@loooreleii Heyyy youu<3 I also hope you know how kind and sweet and funny and just all the lovely adjectives you are. Your artwork kills me (metaphorically) everytime! I’m so grateful that you share it with us<3  I really would like to keep in touch with you, also so that I can update you with how my new life in Germany will be (Update: I’VE FOUND A FAMILY TO LIVE WITH!!! IN STUTTGART, well not in Stuttgart, in a little town outside of it, but still!) Ich liebe dich<3  Plus, I’m buzzing with all sorts of ideas for the 5 different kisses drabble idea you gave me! Can’t wait to write it for you!

@asflowerpot1 You were the first person I spoke to on this crazy site! If you hadn’t reached out to me so that we could fangirl together, I probably would’ve stayed alone and quite in my own lil fangirl bubble :)  I love how we can literally feel each other’s emotions through the use of caps lock and I just really connect with you! I look forward to continuing our crazy long messages and emo feels together!<3

@eivseank Diana, promise that you’ll remember this: Du. Er. Ikke. Alene. I will be there for you to share our happiness between us, and our sad times. Because that’s what friends do. Please, please remember that<3  I love our long messages about travelling the world and eating 100% cocoa chocolate! :P  Make sure to sleep really well this summer, and to eat loads of ice-cream!!

@isaksredscarf Gael, you da BOMB!.com  Thank you again, endlessly for bringing me into the skamfwn- it’s really boosted my confidence in writing, and everytime I published some little drabble, I always knew I could count on you to tell me how it was!<3 I’ve got an AO3 now, where I’m called tacha_bacha because I thought ‘mannentilminkardemomme’ would be quite long :P  so, yay! This past week I’ve been slowly easing my way back into the wonderful, glorious SKAM world by reading and writing fic, which has definitely lifted my m00d by 110%, no doubt about it. Say ‘hi’ to your fuffy, adorable cat!

@sweetevak Ayo Emotional Overload, let’s keep sending dank memes of Honk vs. Cat in sunglasses :D  Also, I’ll literally never let you forget that you were the one to get me into writing!! You’re a godess! (At least, you’re my writing godess). I miss when you’d send seriously cute lil headcanons of Evak- they were pure and sweet, and just what every single hc in this crazy world should be made of<3

I’m going on holiday to The Motherland (aka. Denmark) this Tuesday for 11 days with my friend who has never been, and I’m not bringing my laptop, so writing any drabble will be harder on my phone, but I will do it for you all!! Because I love writing for you and seeing your sweet reactions in the tags and comments. I’m also bringing a notepad along, so there will definitely be a lot of inspiration coming to me! I’ve already started thinking about writing an AU -whaaaaaaattt???? This is new territory for me, but I’m so excited to be doing it with all of you, both my beautiful mutuals and followers (AND BEAUTIFUL ANON, IF YOU’RE READING THIS THEN REMEMBER THAT YOU PHYSICALLY AND LITERALLY MAKE ME SMILE!!!!! WHICH IS ONE OF THE BEST EFFECTS ONE CAN HAVE ON A PERSON!)

Jeg elsker dere alle! Have a wonderful summer. I really look forward to reblogging EVERYTHING I see! *sends an infinite amount of kisses*

Love from,

Natacha :o)

[finn-nelson-for-the-win]

I bet you didn’t think that by “incredibly soon” I meant about a day later, huh? Truth be told I felt kinda bad about the previous chapter because it was mostly just a filler chapter to speed the plot along and show some time passing, but this one and the next couple chapters deliver some seriously flirty vibes and drama (at least in my opinion) and the words just kept coming so I decided to seize the opportunity and post this ASAP.

I also found this chapter rather cathartic to write because I am still incorporating a lot of myself and my experiences into Rae and the story overall, so I really hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! This chapter is at about 2,994 words, which is right on track with my goal of making each mini-fic 3,000 words or less!

Wanna get caught up on the updates leading up to this one? Look no further!

Feel free to let me know if you would like to be added/removed from the tagged list and I’ll be happy to oblige! As always: each and every one of you that read my writing, like, reply, reblog, etc. are amazing people and inspire me to keep writing! :)

Just a Touch of Sweetness

Friday and Saturday sort of just blurred together, as Rae slowly began falling into the routine of Finn sitting with her and Izzie whenever they all worked together, but by Sunday afternoon when Rae walked into her apartment after a long day at work, she felt completely and utterly exhausted—both mentally and physically.

It was mid-November, which meant that the holidays were approaching and things at work were quickly becoming more hectic. To make matters worse, that also meant that there was less than a month left in this semester of Uni, which was making Rae feel relieved but incredibly overwhelmed simultaneously. It seemed as though all of her classes had suddenly announced the final projects and assignments that were swiftly approaching and the stress of everything was becoming too much for Rae to handle.

As much as Rae wanted to just turn on some music and relax in a desperate attempt to ease her worries about school, she knew that procrastination would only exacerbate the stress she was currently feeling with knowing that she had assignments due that evening in both of her online classes, as well as an upcoming exam in her Economics class that has been the bane of her existence this entire semester.

Groaning and sighing dramatically as she turned on her laptop and opened up Spotify, preparing herself to work on her assignments without stopping until she had finished everything that was due at midnight, Rae pressed play on her go-to playlist that she had made to match her mood this time of year, aptly titled “Falling…”, and began trudging her way through the list of assignments she needed to get done.

Hours had passed when Rae finally submitted the last assignment she needed to complete prior to midnight.

Thank fuck that is finally over with!

Rae was still feeling overwhelmed by everything she had coming up in her classes as she attempted to prioritize her upcoming assignments and she could feel her breath catch as the panic and feelings of self-doubt and fear of failing out of Uni this semester crept in. To an extent, Rae knew that she was taking on too much responsibility going to Uni full-time, working part-time, and becoming financially independent after moving away from her family to attend Uni. She had incredibly high expectations for herself and she could not even fathom letting herself down by falling behind in her classes or losing the academic scholarship that was the only reason why attending University was even a possibility for Rae.

Knowing that she had to calm down before she had a proper panic attack, Rae gripped the edge of the desk in her bedroom she was sitting at tightly and began counting quietly under her breath, attempting to regulate her breathing.

Just breathe, Rae…In 2-3-4-5-6-7-8, Out 2-3-4-5-6-7-8, In 2-3-4…Out 2-3-4….In…Out…

When her breathing was almost back to normal, her grip on the edge of her desk loosened and she flexed her fingers that had begun to cramp from how tightly they were clenched.

Despite calming down slightly, Rae knew that listening to music could only do so much to help her relax, so Rae turned to the next biggest comfort and sense of enjoyment in her life: food.

Rae has had a strange relationship with food for as long as she could remember. She had a tendency to overeat to the point of being sick to cope with stress and sadness as a child; however, as she grew older and her self-esteem plummeted as bullying “the fat girl” was a more common occurrence at college, Rae began to not eat in front of strangers. This continued until she also refused to eat in front of people that were not her family, until eventually she skipped meals entirely on a regular basis.

For years she struggled to find some semblance of balance because she knew the dangers she faced from both binging and skipping meals, that is until she found a way that she could love food without the temptation and regret she had previously associated it with.

When Rae was 16 years old she discovered that her casual interest in cooking was a true passion and she had quite a knack for it. As she continued cooking for her family and friends and experimenting with new foods and new recipes, Rae gained a new appreciation for food as a form of art and expression that did not lead to her hating herself afterwards. And so even now, nearly 4 years later, Rae would go on “stress baking” and “stress cooking” sprees to help clear her mind and get relieve stress.

Hmm…what shall I bake today…?

Rae walked into the small kitchen in her apartment and perused her cabinets trying to determine what she had the ingredients to make before grabbing her phone off of the counter to get a second opinion.

Rae: Hiya Izz, random question: Do you like cupcakes?

Rae set her phone back down on her kitchen counter and it buzzed almost immediately indicating that Izzie had already replied.

Izzie: OF COURSE I DO, RAE. All sweet things beckon to me! <3 <3 <3

Rae: Lol…In that case, I just might have a sweet surprise for you tomorrow before work! ;)

Rae returned her phone to its place on the kitchen counter, making a mental note to read Izzie’s response as soon as she had a spare moment after getting the cupcakes started.

Two hours later Rae was putting the finishing touches on the three dozen cupcakes she had made and examining them to determine if there was anything else she should add to them.

Hmm…chocolate cupcakes with a chocolate-hazelnut filling and a cream cheese buttercream…Well, you can never go wrong with a little more chocolate!

Rae proceeded to drizzle the top of each cupcake with the remainder of the chocolate she had incorporated into the filling she had made. She quickly cleaned up the last traces of her late night baking, licking the spoons used to mix the batter and taking pride in the perfect balance of sweetness and rich chocolate flavor she had achieved on this particular batch of cupcakes.

By the time she finished tidying up the kitchen a bit, it was just past 2am and Rae decided it best to get some sleep, fully aware that she had to go to work early the next morning.

***

Rae walked into work well over 15 minutes earlier than she typically arrived, especially on a Monday morning, and took a seat at one of the tables in the break room before retrieving her cellphone from the bottom of her purse to browse her social media accounts.

Uninterested in what she saw while scrolling through Instagram and Twitter, Rae set her phone to the side and began examining the small white box containing the cupcakes she had brought to work for a few of her coworkers until she head the door to the break room open.

“Whoa…Finn, you’re here really early today, aren’t ya?” Rae asked raising an eye brow as Finn walked toward the table she was sitting at with a massive grin.

“Good morning to you too, Mae,” Finn replied, feigning that he took offense to what she had said to him.

“Oh, don’t be that way Finn! It’s good to see you, I just didn’t anticipate you being here so early.”

Rae noticed that Finn stood in front of the table she was sitting at and was shifting awkwardly from one foot to another, biting the skin on his thumb subconsciously.

Why does Finn seem nervous? It’s just me after all, he’s got nothing to be nervous about.

“Finn, you know you can take a seat at the table with me is you want to, right?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry…” Finn pulled the chair nearest to Rae out from under the table before sitting down and giving her a small close-lipped smile to help hide some of the embarrassment he was feeling.

“I just didn’t know if you’d be okay with me sitting down at the table with ya or not…” He trailed off until he was barely mumbling and went right back to biting the skin around his thumb.

Rae and Finn sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes until he lightly tapped the top of the square box she had sitting in the center of the table.

“What’s in the box, Rae?” he asked, clearly curious but resisting the urge to open the box and take a look for himself.

“This box, my dear Finnley,” she began but stopped to smirk at her use of the nickname she knew he secretly hated, opening the box to let both of them see its contents, “contains some of the Chocolate Hazelnut cupcakes that I baked last night and brought for some people here at work.”

“Ah, alright…wait, did you say you MADE these? They look like they’re professional quality! How’s that possible!?” Finn exclaimed, making no attempts to hide his surprise and how impressed he was that these cupcakes were homemade.

“Yeah, I like to cook and bake when I’m upset or stressed, and I’ve been pretty overwhelmed with Uni lately, so last night I did some stress baking. I still have a lot to learn about baking and decorating cakes, but thank you, I tried to make them look halfway decent at least.”

“‘Halfway decent’? Are you shitting me, Mae? These cupcakes are perfect looking! Why in the hell would you want to share these with other people? If I were you I’d just keep them all for myself…”

Rae tensed slightly, trying to determine the best way to respond to Finn without making him think that she was weird.

Careful what you say, Rae...one wrong thing and Finn will always see me as some crazy, fat blob.

“Uh, well I love to cook, but I don’t have much of an appetite for sweets. So whenever I bake a lot, like I did last night, I give most of what I make to people here at work.”

Finn nodded and continued examining the cupcakes that still sat in the white cardboard box while Rae tried to read Finn’s face and figure out what he thought of the explanation she had given.

“Hiya Rae! Morning Finn…you two are here quite early today!” Izzie mused excitedly as she pulled out the chair at the table across from Rae and Finn and sat down, nearly bouncing with her usual level of energy that seemed impossible this early on a Monday.

Both simply shrugged in response, which made Izzie laugh because she could almost swear they were the same person at times with how similar they are.

“Izzie! I have a surprise for you, love, as promised…” Rae opened the box containing the cupcakes, showing Izzie the sweet surprise she had brought for her today.

“Oh my god, Rae! These look amazing! And you made and decorated these yourself!?” Izzie removed a cupcake from the box to examine it further.

“I was just telling Rae the same thing when she showed me the cupcakes! It’s not just me that thinks you’re insanely talented, girl,” Finn replied, playfully poking Rae’s arm to further prove his point to her.

Rae stood up from the table, cheeks blushing a deep red color, and pushed the now vacant chair back under the table, thoroughly embarrassed by Izzie and Finn’s praise and acknowledgment of her baking skills.

“Well, I’m gonna head inside and get to work now. Are you planning to stay out here to eat a cupcake, Izz?”

“Yeah, as long as you don’t mind saving my seat for me, Rae…These look too good and I can’t wait much longer to give them a taste!”

Rae giggled and informed Izzie that she would save her a seat but Rae expected to get Izzie’s feedback on the cupcake as soon as she finished.

“Hey, wait up, girl!” Finn walked hurriedly towards where Rae stood holding open the break room door, allowing him to catch up to her.

Finn gave Rae a huge smile, making her chuckle, and walked beside her toward the seat to the right of Izzie and Rae that has become his regular spot to sit for almost a week. As they passed the radio in the corner of the room, Finn stopped to turn it to Rae’s favorite Alternative music station, which earned him an appreciative nod and genuine smile from Rae.

Just as Rae and Finn got logged into their computers and began getting settled in to answer customer questions, Izzie came bounding through the door, scanning her badge in the process, before rushing to take her seat on Rae’s left.

“Rae, holy shit that cupcake was amazing!”

“Izzie!” Rae exclaimed, laughing at the sound of Izzie cursing, which was a very rare phenomenon.

“I’m serious, Rae! I don’t know how you did it, but that cupcake from the filling to the decorations, to the cake itself were fantastic!”

“Well thank you Izz, I’m really happy to hear you enjoyed it!”

The three of them continued working, only occasionally stopping when Rae and Finn bickered about their opinions of the song currently playing on the radio or when Izzie brought up how delicious the cupcake had been and how tempted she was to take another one during her break that was coming up shortly.

Rae was quickly becoming accustomed to the new dynamic between her and Finn, especially considering that she had been prepared for the worst following the mixed messages she received from Finn last Monday. Sitting next to Finn this week and talking to him more at work than she has heard him speak in the month she had been working here has allowed Rae and Izzie to get to know Finn a little bit better and Rae could almost say she considered him one of her mates.

When Izzie sat back down at her desk after coming in from her break, she turned towards Rae hesitantly, avoiding eye contact.

“Rae…I hope you aren’t too mad at me, but after giving Rebecca the cupcake you saved for her, I ate another one of the cupcakes you brought while I was on break.”

“Don’t worry about it, Izz! I brought them specifically for my friends here at work and I have plenty more at my apartment if you want more. Just let me know!”

“Aw, thanks Rae, I’d really appreciate that!”

Izzie returned to responding to customers and Rae turned in her desk chair when she noticed that Finn was locking his computer.

“Are you about to go on break, Finn?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I just wanted to let you know that if you want a cupcake before Izz eats them all herself, you are more than welcome to take one. I felt like a real dickhead about teasing you with them and not even offering you one,” Rae replied, apologizing for her inadvertent rudeness and lack of manners by not offering Finn a cupcake as well this morning.

“Are you sure I can take one, Rae? You don’t have to give me one if ya don’t want to…”

“Of course I’m sure,” Rae interrupted, “I want to know if it lives up to your expectations or not!” Rae winked at Finn, causing him to gulp audibly and clear his throat before stuttering out his reply.

“Uh, wow…thanks, Rae! You just made my day! I know it’s gonna be amazing because that cupcake looked fucking amazing, but I’m going to give you really detailed feedback, okay? Because I really love critiquing stuff like this like they do in those cooking show competitions.”

“Hell yeah, I love those shows! Don’t spare my feelings either, I want to know what you really think of them.” Rae added, laughing at the childlike excitement Finn was emanating at the mere mention of the cupcakes.

“In that case, Mae, I will be sure to be EXTRA hard on you…err…your cupcakes, I mean…uhhh…I’m just gonna go now!” Finn hurried away, avoiding eye contact with Rae as he walked out the door in the direction of the break room.

Well…that certainly was an interesting choice of words, Finnley…

When Finn returned fifteen minutes later and sat back down in his seat, Rae was already turned in her desk chair facing Finn with her arm propped up beside his computer screen and her chin resting on her hand.

“So Finnley…what did you think?” She asked, biting her lower lip slightly as she braced herself for his feedback.

“Well Mae,” he began placing emphasis on his nickname for her that he knew got on her nerves, “I thought it was pretty fucking fantastic!  I noticed that the cupcake itself was hardly sweet at all, it was mostly just the filling and frosting on top that added sweetness.”

“Thanks, Finn. I’ve always hated things that are too sweet so I always try to focus the sweetness on certain aspects of what I’m making. That way there is just a touch of sweetness and it isn’t overwhelmingly sweet…Was there anything else you would have wanted different about them?”

“Well, don’t get me wrong Rae, I really liked the cupcake,” he prefaced, trying to soften the blow of his critique to follow, “but I really would have like there to be more filling on the inside.”

“Oh, and why is that Finn? Was it not sweet enough for you as it was?” Rae asked quirking her eyebrow in anticipation for his answer.

“It was plenty sweet, but knowing that there was a filling in it, I was kind of hoping to get it all over my mouth and face while I was eating it…I like it a little dirty, you know?” Finn smirked and gave her a quick wink when he noticed Rae’s eyes widen at the double entendre in his statement.

Are you shitting me right now? Finn Nelson, you will be the death of me, I just know it...

@eveerez @tinakegg @hey1tskat1e @bitchesbecrazy89 @kneekeyta @milllott @protectfinnnelson @arathewallflower​ @jackiewalsh2013​ @pink-royaute

[pocketmouse18]

Tumblr Tag Game!

Thank you for the tag @herosofmarvelanddc​ !!

1. Why did you choose your url?

It’s my username in most internet spaces and I like not having to keep up with different accounts/names haha :) The story behind PocketMouse is a little convoluted, so I won’t bore you with it in its entirety, but the nutshell version is that when I was younger I carried around stuffed animals in my pockets as a way of easing my many anxieties... I have other coping strategies now, but I still like to stick a little buddy in my front shirt pocket from time to time for fun (much to the amusement of my students!). The 18 is a remnant of needing a number to differentiate the accounts, but 18 is one of my favorites numbers for several reasons, including a) it ends in an 8, a number I’m fond of, b) it’s a multiple of 3, which I like very much, and c) there’s personal significance :)

2. Any side blogs?

Nope! That sounds too complicated for me lol

3. How long have you been on tumblr?

Not very long... less than a year, I think.

4. Do you have a queue tag?

Nope!

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?

I was posting stuff I was writing on FFN and Ao3 and more than one person asked me if I had a tumblr. Eventually I was persuaded to try it, and I’m happy I did!

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

It’s the same picture I use elsewhere :) I like things to be the same across platforms (if you couldn’t tell lol). It’s from a photo set I love of rats interacting with different objects like tiny musical instruments and tiny furniture, and the teddy bear one is my favorite :)

7. Why did you choose your header?

I’m gonna be honest, I had to look up what that was ._. I think mine is just the generic pattern that came preset, which perhaps I should look into changing...

8. What’s your post with the most notes?

I’m not sure... Upon looking back at my archive I think it’s actually the very first post I made, where I just kind of introduced myself haha. That one has 8 notes! The one I wrote about my students’ favorite heroes has 7 (although one of those notes is mine, since I reblogged it for a part 2) - so it’s a close second!

9. How many mutuals do you have?

Those are people who we both follow each other, right? (can you tell I don’t really know how to use this website yet lol). If that’s the case, then many! 25, if I counted right :) I don’t talk with all of them (mostly because I’m very, very shy, I’m so sorry) but they’re all great and I love getting to know them :)

10. How many followers do you have?

45! A number of those don’t seem to be real people, though, given the nature of their usernames and... nsfw content? Not that posting nsfw stuff is inherently bot-like, but like... they’re definitely bots lol

11. How many people do you follow?

41 awesome people :)

12. Have you ever made a shit post?

I don’t think so...

13. How often do you use tumblr a day?

Usually I get on once or twice after work and try to catch up on stuff (and more often on my days off!). I might go a day or two without checking if I’m particularly busy.

14. Did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog?

Not to my knowledge! I certainly hope not, I wouldn’t want to upset someone else (but also I would hope someone would tell me if I upset them, so I could take steps not to do so again).

15. How do you feel about the ‘you need to reblog’ posts?

They’re kind of stressful :/ I won’t spend the rest of my day thinking about them, but I’ll feel kind of bad as I don’t follow their instructions...

16. Do you like tag games?

Yes, very much! I don’t always answer in a timely manner, but I get very excited to see I’ve been tagged :)

17. Do you like ask games?

Yes, same as above!

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

They all are, to me :) I think they’re all really cool and awesome, and the fact that they know other people and talk to them already makes them feel famous and connected from my perspective! Plus, they’re all very talented and make incredible art and gifs and write beautiful pieces, of which I am in awe :) I’m not exactly sure by what metrics someone might measure tumblr fame, so I can’t speak to *technical* fame, but I will say that I would consider several mutuals to be well recognized and well regarded in their particular fandoms/corners of the internet :)

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?

I don’t think so :) Many of them I would always be happy to get to know better, though!

20. Tags! (no pressure obv)

Hopefully I’m not retagging anyone who’s already done this (if I am, or if you’d rather not join, just ignore me!) @thisisworsethanitlookslike @browneyedgenius @innertimetraveldetective @dragonslover98 @mtab2260 and anyone else who would like to join!