#what is life and why does it make me write more slowly than i'd like

[samirant]

Chapters: 2/6 Fandom: Bridgerton (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington Characters: Colin Bridgerton, Penelope Featherington, Genevieve Delacroix, Will Mondrich, Rae (Bridgerton), Clara (Bridgerton) Additional Tags: colin the bond girl, Spies & Secret Agents, pen is a badass fight me Series: Part 2 of Featherington. Penelope Featherington. Summary:

Five times Penelope & Co regret Colin joining their ranks and the one time they’re very glad he did.

[r0-boat]

Lavender Hair

Whb!Solomon x Demon!Reader

I cannot do porn with plot on this one😭 to save my life so we are just fucking him. Which sucks because I really wanted to write him being charismatic aaa

I had no idea what to call this I just called it that because his hair is very nice and I'd like to run my hands through it and braid it.

Cw: Solomon yoinking your V card, hair pulling, some switchiness, oral, fingering.

When his tip catches against your opening, your heart stops as reality sinks in.

You can see why devils like Solomon.

With his hair spread into pools of lavender all over the sheets, his eyes half-lit and full of mystery staring up at you, his gentle yet firm touch as he holds you in place and rolls his hips up into yours. You feel his bulge grind against your opening. There is no penetration yet; just enjoying the friction.

He was going to be inside you. And you were scared.

Solomon must have noticed because he then sat up a little bit. His voice was gentle and husky. "Is something wrong, love?"

"no, I mean... I just haven't done this before." You admitted, your face turning red at the sheer irony that you, a devil, had never had sex before.

Solomon, across is your cheek. "Oh love, you should have told me." He takes you in his arms as he lays you onto the mattress before crawling on top of you.

"Here, let me take over; I promise I'll be gentle."

He purrs. You feel his lips delicately press against your neck, going down his hand, gentle yet possessive, to feel and trace every part of your body.

"You're so radiant. I feel so lucky to have you in my arms," He whispers in a tickly ear. He chuckles at your whimpering; He loves what his words do to you and what he does to you. He hums, pushing your thighs apart. Tail, out of habit, wraps around his arms. He smiles when he feels it against his skin, gently feels it against his fingers, touching his lips and kissing the arrow-shaped tip.

"Are you comfortable, my dear?" Solomon coos as he shifts his body, leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach till you feel his tongue prod you open. Your whole body shivers, your fingers going through his hair, wanting to grab onto something, your heart pounding in your chest. Solomon can sense your nervousness

"I'm going to worship you now. It's okay, I'll go slowly." You felt his tongue lazily lick your entrance before working. You opened each lick, getting deeper and deeper.

Your eyes screenshot as the grip on his hair grows tighter. That lavender main feels soft in your palm. You can feel the beads and his braids as you clench your fist.

As Solomon's movements become rougher and faster, You lose control of your body, giving him a harsh tug, You heard the soft clanks and jingling of the many trinkets in his hair. He let out a sharp inhale and a moan, making you realize what you did.

"Solomon, I'm sorry... I didn't mean-"You whimper and apologize. Solomon stops and looks up at you, those vacant eyes filled with lust and hunger. "Don't be sorry, please tug me as though you are my master."His husky voice, growling such much filth befitting of a demon, made you gasp as he dived back into you once more. His saliva coats your inner walls as it threatens to eat you alive.

You felt something bubble inside you, something foreign, increasing in intensity. Your thighs shake and squeeze around his head, but Solomon does not let that stop him. His fingernails dig into your hips as he forces his mouth, grinding his face against your body.

When he pulls away his tongue out, he switches, putting his mouth around you. You feel a finger slowly push inside you. This feeling is different than his tongue as he stretches you more.

"I'm going to add another finger. Be good to me and take it, please." Another husky whisper as you felt another finger stretch you.

That feeling bubbling in your core gets hotter and hotter, and Solomon strokes these flames, His fingers and his tongue moving faster and faster. He grows, seeing you arch your back.

Something about seeing someone orgasm for the first time made his heart race and his cock throb. And to be the one too give you that pleasure was a feeling greater than just mere sexual pleasure.

After you coat his fingers, he licks them clean before crawling back on top of you, wrapping His arms around you. "Was that good, my dear?" His cock throbs as pre cum drift down his shaft.

"It was." You purr feeling the aftershock of your first orgasm.

Solomon smiles. "Good I'm glad I could make you feel the same way you make me feel." Your heart throbbed at that comment He always had a way with words.

But, You felt his cock straining against you. "Solomon you haven't came."

You heard his muffled hum against your shoulder his hand idly stroking your side and your stomach. "It does not matter the pleasure I get from serving you is all I need."

He always knew just what to say but you really wanted him to feel good too. After he made you feel so good he felt a little more confident, and you're aching to know what it would feel like to have a cock inside you, his cock inside you.

"I want to be inside you; I want nothing more than to be inside you." More dirty filth from that melodic voice.

You turn over to him, his eyes grow wider as your hands strays Your fingers ghosting over his shaft' He could feel his cock twitch aching for more of you. "Please Solomon I want more I'm ready."

By the Kings, You always knew just what to say to drive him crazy. His breath shakes, with no emotion in those eyes and an unreadable face. You mistook it for hesitation until he pressed you onto your back once again, stroking his cock and playing with your opening, preparing himself to go inside.

Even now, he tries to comfort you, holding you as closely as possible, easing his way inside. You're tight virgin walls, even while prepped, still squeezed him generously. Solomon did not hide as pleasure, his face contorting, letting out noise that would make any demon blush and squirm.

A foreign feeling of being filled was painful yet strangely addicting. He stays inside you to the health, waiting for you to adjust to his size. That's stretching pain, fading into burning pleasure. You felt his breath shake against your ear as you clenched again. Your hands and fingers tangled in his lavender-colored hair. His words echo in your mind.

'tug me as though you are my master.'

You pulled at a part of his hair, telling him to move. Solomon lets out a loud whimper as he begins to buck his hips.

With an arm for your head to rest on and his other hand grasping into the sheets, He bucks hard, The slapping against his skin becoming louder and louder, but all you could hear was his and your moans.

That carefulness and softness to the two of you felt for each other was all long gone, that's the two of you fuck like animals.

Balls slapping against you, each thrust going all the way inside, each thrust rhythmic and almost calculated as he hits a foreign spot inside you that makes you suck in breath and arch. He starts to hit that spot over and over. "Right there? Is that the spot, my dear? Is that your spot, love?" if it weren't for the fact he was fucking you into the mattress, you would punish him.

Part of him wanted to flip you over and take complete control, to wrapping one of his muscular arms around your throat and drilling you from behind.

But you are already getting close, and the way you squeeze around his cock, I feel like he is going to come hard, empty his balls deep inside you, and flood your insides.

His rhythmic movements became more and more erratic, your hand abandoning his hair as your nails dug into his back, wrapping your legs around him.

"I'm cumming! Solomon!"You squeal, and Solomon coos, "I know, I know, beloved, you're milking me! I'm going to flood you full!"

He fucks through his orgasm drilling his cum deeper inside riding out both of your orgasms.

He collapses on top of you. He already has his arms around you, peppering your face with kisses.

"That was amazing, you are amazing, you're good, So good." You gave him a dreamy smile. You didn't have as much stamina as most demons, so you were already drained from two orgasms; you idly combed your fingers through his soft lavender mane, drifting to sleep in his arms.

[jelloapocalypse]

I admittedly haven't watched your stream playthrough of TGAA games, mostly because I was playing through them with my fiancé very slowly, but we just finished them and I was curious what your opinion on them was? My fiancé and I enjoyed them but we both felt like they were pretty... Tame, compared to mainline AA. Like, there wasn't really any insane twists that shook the characters to their cores, everything wrapped up so neatly for everyone, it felt too easy, in a way? Also the big bad was wayyyyy too predictable.

I'd recommend checking out these amazing animatics that Infamouslydorky did of our playthrough!

My feelings re: The Great Ace Attorney games are sort of complicated, so this answer's going to be kind of long. I'll keep it spoiler-free, though.

I think they have the best main cast of any AA game. The music, character designs, and quality of life are basically the best they've ever been. That's really cool. I really love a lot of the one-off characters too. Enoch Drebber, Pat and Rollie, and the little plague mask coroner girl are huge stand-outs for me.

However, I think Shu Takumi has a lot of... foibles as a writer, and the way they manifest in these games is more evident and more obnoxious than basically anything else he's ever made.

I've played every game he's ever made and I can tell you that Shu Takumi writes the mysteries and twists in his stories first before anything else. I think he has a great sense of when he wants the twists to hit for the audience and he's great at figuring out where a twist will hit in a case... but he's remarkably bad at making character motivations match up to the story he's trying to tell.

In particular, he's awful at giving characters reasons not to tell each other things. 90% of a time your protagonist in a Shu Takumi game will ask a completely reasonable question to an ally, and the ally will avoid answering simply because it's not time for the player to know the answer yet. This is an issue in every game he's ever made. Even his best game Ghost Tric, is plagued by this. i.e. The way Lynne refuses to tell you her goals even though you're a literal ghost who's saved her life 3+ times in the same evening. Like, what do you have to lose, Lynne? Do you think this ghost is going to leak your goals to the police? No, it's just in service of delaying information so the player gets that information when it really hits. My friend circle has some to refer to characters in video games not telling you information for no reason as "Shu Takumi-ing".

Because most AA games are really silly, this isn't usually a gamebreaking issue. Why isn't your ally telling you information that would allow you to help them? Well, they're stupid, that's why. This is a game where you get possessed by dead people to get evidence and cross-examine a parrot. It's not serious. Everyone's a little bit on the stupid spectrum.

That's not really the case with TGAA. The games still have silly moments, but the characters are very explicitly smart. Kazuma is meant to be a legal prodigy on an exchange program. Susato is incredibly well-read and her father is a well-traveled and well-respected man of the law himself. Iris is a genius. Sholmes is whacky, but he's supposed to be cannier than he lets on.

Because of that, it's really noticeable when Shu Takumi doesn't know how to delay information or elegantly set up an interpersonal conflict. His fallback is always to have a character drink The Stupid Juice. For Case X, this character is suddenly stupid and does stuff they'd never do. For Case Y, it's someone else.

When you're dealing with Larry Butz and Lotta Hart, you come to expect that sort of thing. The inconsistency is part of their character. But when Susato can't identify her own father sleeping on the couch because... I dunno, I guess she landed on her head when she fell out of bed this morning, what the hell are we doing here, gang? Why are we doing this? Some people in our chat were like "This is a joke". I don't know. Is it? it really a joke if it takes 20 minutes of real gameplay to SOLVE THE MYSTERY instead of walking over and look at him, like any rational person would do?

I also can't go into too many details about this without spoiling things, but I really really hate the core overarching plot of this duology. I would bet almost all the money in my bank account that Shu Takumi didn't have the details of the second game 100% ironed out by the time he wrote the first. They don't lead into each other at all and so many characters' actions need to be unfathomably stupid for everything to work out the way it does. It kind of makes me retroactively dislike a lot of the cast. Especially Sholmes.

Also the assistant Van Zieks gets in the 2nd game is unfathomably bad. Everything about that setup and how that character acts is my least favorite thing about the game and maybe my least favorite thing that ever happens in the entire franchise. It makes me SO angry.

The games are still pretty good though.

[sevgilimsatoru]

Error 410 Author's Note (Updated!)

Hi! So, as I said before this is the author's note for the Error 410 fanfic. There are a lot of things that will be included in this note. But I will divide it into sections so it's easier for everyone (including myself)

This is very important in terms of the story, please read it. And this is the full thing. I have added the things which were left to include.

You can scroll down and read whichever part you are most interested in or read all of it, it depends on what you prefer.

Writing in Error 410

The Error 410 was written as a self- indulgent fanfic. I didn't expect anyone other than @ittybittyfanblog to read this story so all this support is appreciated. I feel like you all will get tired of hearing it but I'm so thankful to everyone who reads my stories. And I love you all. It really does make my day knowing that people like my work.

I started this series on 11th of April and it ended on 1st of May. If I hadn't taken that week long break, I feel like it would've ended earlier. And there are so many people who like my posts and read this story. It's unbelievable so thank you again.

I'd say my style of writing is mostly spontaneous, I do plan things but in the end what I will write, add or remove from the story is just based on what is going through my mind at that moment.

There were a lot of things that I wanted to flesh out and add which I couldn't exactly because of the reason I just stated and I will try to do better on this aspect.

But I'll probably try and flesh it out more in spin off series.

Non MC Reader

I never did give much thought to the Non Mc Reader because it was a self indulgent fic, she is very much based on me and my personal experiences.

I've had crushes and obsessions over fictional characters but at the end of the day, I could never fully find comfort in those fictional characters because a part of mind was always telling me that it wasn't real and the comfort I want is never gonna be given to me. That's why I always wanted to keep this feeling of detachment between them slowly turning into affection though I'm not sure if I was properly able to portray it.

Non MC Reader's looks

I do have a certain image of her in my mind which is the Non Mc Reader being underweight.

Of course it doesn't matter. You can imagine her looking any way you want when you read the story.

I have seen a lot of fanarts with MC and official arts. They are always so perfectly skinny. Chubby MC fanarts are rare and very adorable, I love them. But there is absolutely no representation for being underweight.

It is something I want to see represented more.

Non MC Reader's Backstory

Non MC Reader's Backstory isn't something I have thought about but I can give you a few things I kept in mind while writing her.

Non MC Reader doesn't really have a great relationship with her parents. She loves them and they love her and care for her but things still aren't working out.

She comes from a background where sex is a very hushed topic and as a woman, having sexual urges would always be very looked down upon which is the reason for her disgust towards being hypersexual.

Hypersexuality

 Hypersexuality referred to as compulsive sexual behavior or sex addiction. It describes an intense focus on sexual fantasies, urges or behaviors that are difficult to control and cause distress.

It's a condition characterized by an excessive amount of time spent on sexual thoughts and activities, often to the point of neglecting other important areas of life. 

Why was it included?

I feel like there are going to be people who aren't exactly sure why the Non MC reader was written to be Hypersexual in the fanfic.

There are a few reasons for it :-

Basically lack of representation.

The sexualization of this behavior.

I have said this before but hypersexuality is a very hush topic even in safe spaces for victims. There is this ideology of a 'perfect victim' which is someone docile and terrified, is repulsed by sex and the idea of it but there are people who are on the other side of spectrum.

They aren't given any recognition or comfort because they don't fit in this idea of how victims should act. Because of it, they are often shunned out and made to feel disgusted with themselves.

Hypersexuality being the way for the brain to cope is also a way for a person to fall into the pattern of self-triggering which isn't healthy at all.

The sexualization of being Hypersexual pisses me off the most because no, it's not sexy. It's not hot and it's not something for you to fetishize about. It's something that ruins people's lives, makes them feel disgusted with themselves and their body.

It has and continues to be a problem for me every single second of everyday and it's annoying, really annoying.

How does it feel being Hypersexual?

The best way I can describe it is by thinking of it as an itch. An itch that doesn't go away, no matter how many times you scratch it. It's always there and you want to scratch it but you can't do it every single second of your day and if you keep doing it, the skin will eventually get red and it'll start to hurt.

It's there and you just want to keep indulging it. It's starts with just one and then you just keep doing it for hours and in the end, you just feel so dirty and disgusting and guilty.

The only thing that actually seems to have some sort of value is your body.

The feeling is good but when that feeling goes away- all you can feel is guilt, anger, exhaustion. I mean how much can you indulge in this when you have college or a job or whatever that includes being around other people?

And if you are not around other people and bored then the urge gets stronger.

One more thing that I have heard and experienced is the sort of fear of sexual relationships. I know it's very ironic to be hypersexual and being scared of having sex.

There is always this fear in your mind that you are nothing more than how attractive your body is or how "useful" you are, how attractive you are.

And this fear leads to thought like "what if they don't find you attractive?" or "what if sex is all they want from you and then they are going to leave," at the back of your mind , when you do really like someone romantically.

It's so hard to be sexually active with your partner because it is something you think about a lot and want to do but it's also something you are scared to do because of those thoughts.

Still this is just my personal experience, I'm sure it's different for others.

Caleb

The passage between The Love and Deepspace world and the reader's world.

The passage between these two worlds is something I have thought about and what I was able to come up with was that there are two one-way passages between their worlds. One to leave the world and one to enter. I call them Promethean Passages.

So, let's just say the promethean passage to leave the world of Love and Deep space is Passage (1) and the promethean passage to enter the world of Love and Deep space is Passage (2)

The passage (1) is very hard to find, it has a fixed location in the world of Love and Deep space while the passage (2) is easier to find in the world of Love and Deepspace compared to passage (1) the location they appear is often random, and it is unclear how long they stay in one spot.

You can't go back if you enter one of those passages or tunnels and if something goes wrong, you are stuck there until your body ceases to exist.

I had planned to include it but I wasn't able to so that's why I think it's better to say it here.

As for how and where those tunnels are usually located, it'll be explained more in the spin off.

Caleb's evol

There was a part of me that wanted to keep Caleb's evol in reader's world but there are certain changes that happen to the people's bodies or abilities traveling through those Promethean Passages. As for the reason why the happens, it's in the fun facts.

He doesn't have his evol in reader's world and Caleb had to get used it. Because something like controlling gravity tends to come in handy a lot and he had learn to not depend on that anymore during the time he was studying to become a pilot in reader's world.

Potential self awareness in the other characters in Caleb's universe?

It is a reasonable thing to think that the other characters might become self aware because of the information they received from Caleb but I believe it was sort of different in this specific scenario.

When Caleb went to talk to MC, let's see it from her perspective. You have a friend you grew up with and love.

For a while now, he has been acting strange and you are sure he isn't mentally stable and then he comes to your house after months of not talking and tells you that he has a girlfriend in another universe and wants your help to travel to where his girlfriend is.

MC was really concerned for his mental state at that point. She talked to Sylus about this and he was able to find one of the Promethean Passages through his connections but it wasn't the one that Caleb wanted.

So, to answer your question, I do think it was start for MC and Sylus to be self aware but because Caleb is a very integral part of that world, when he left- his universe basically collapsed since a very important piece was suddenly missing.

That information was the start of a very important and enlightening knowledge and I'm sure Sylus would've tried to study more about Promethean Passages, even try talk Caleb about his mysterious girlfriend.

But unfortunately for Sylus and MC in Caleb's world, they weren't given enough time to really understand everything to the point Caleb did.

Caleb's metal arm/ prosthetic arm

Before I talk about it, I did want to include a prosthetic arm for Caleb in this fanfic and there are a few reasons why I didn't.

First of all, I don't want to represent something in my work that I do not have full knowledge upon or haven't experienced myself. I believe that fake and wrong representation is more harmful than no representation and maybe it is controversial to have that opinion.

But if I'm going to include and represent something in my work, I want to know and understand it fully. I don't want to half ass it or include it just for the sake of inclusion.

I did research on prosthetic arms and the type of prosthetic that Caleb has is known as Shoulder Disarticulation Prosthesis

Shoulder Disarticulation Prosthesis is relatively rare, while upper limb amputations are not uncommon, amputations occurring at the shoulder, including shoulder disarticulation and forequarter amputation, are less frequent.

The prosthesis for Shoulder Disarticulation do exist but they are not as common or available as the prosthetics for other amputations. The only prosthesis that I found even remotely similar to Caleb's prosthetic is from Prosthetic Innovations, LLC

The thing I was most confused about was if Caleb should keep the metal arm he already has or get a new one when he travels to the reader's world.

The new prosthetic arm wouldn't obviously be as technically advanced as the one Caleb has and a shoulder disarticulation prosthesis can range from $60,000 to $70,000 or even higher and Caleb wouldn't have the means to afford it for years.

And if he were to travel to reader's world with his prosthetic arm then neither of them would have the means for any update or repair of his metal/prosthetic arm which would make things really hard.

So, I decided against it in the end. I hope you all can understand my reasons and I will learn more about prosthetics so that I can include proper representation in my work.

FUN FACTS

Promethean Passages is something I named after the characteristics of one of the titans; Prometheus.

I read his greek myth (I don't know why) and what I personally believe is that his myth basically tells us that to have a prize you always have to sacrifice something in return and I really wanted to include that in my story.

Error 410 also known as a 410 Gone error is an HTTP status code, it means that the requested resource is permanently unavailable on your server and it has been intentionally removed.

I wanted the title to fit the story and the theme, I hope I did a good enough job.

Along with the quotes at the beginnings of the chapters, they were written to symbolize the feelings or the theme of the specific chapter. If some of you like re-read my fanfic, I hope those quotes were something fun to read.

END

Okay, that's all the questions I have gotten about this fic and I'm writing a spin off along with a few other stories or drabbles. I hope you like those and again, thank you all for reading my work. I really appreciate it. Have a nice day!

Tag list: @browneyedgirl22 @aneertawrites @etsuniiru @demon-master-zero @angstylittleb1tch @mcdepressed290 @ittybittyfanblog @winwinwrites @alifyairl @huhleighna @calebsbeanpeeler @bookworrm1999 @mentaltrouble2201 @noxus123 @babyx91 @multisstuff @beomluvrr @sunnylittleapple @lunia-likes-pomegranet @imhere2dosomething @lostpsycho13 @april-likes-smut @calebsbabyapple @mephisto-with-a-knife @wooasecret @anatherone @asgardiancoffemaker @sadsaidthesadthing @beppybeesnuggets @lilacflower667 @mangooes @sunnyx07 @30jades

[ferocious-notes]

So, I'm working on perfectionism.... I figured I'd try with some writing. I've got a few things cooking, but I've got a little character moment for my Warden Rook hanging out talking relationship and Warden stuff with Davrin. I don't know, there are bits I like. Maybe someone will find it entertaining....

------

“Isn’t he, you know, a little old for you?” Davrin gave her a side-long glance as he laid his knife against the block of wood slowly being peeled away to reveal a slender halla underneath. 

“Probably,” she admitted, fiddling with a curl of wood she’d picked up off the floor. “But I’ve been a Warden longer than you.” A lot longer, but none of them knew that. She didn’t need them fussing, looking at her with worry whenever she was quiet for a little too long, wondering if she’d heard something singing at the edges of her mind. Especially since she, blessedly, didn’t hear anything but Solas’ constant nagging in her sleep. She wanted to enjoy the sweetness as long as she could before the sour and the sorrow. “I figure, with this blight, why waste time? I might as well enjoy what I’ve got left.” 

Davrin’s hands stilled and he stared into the fire for a few long seconds. He swallowed, mouth pulling into a wry expression before the steady rhythm of his blade returned. 

“Well, I hope you two are happy. Doing mage things together.” 

Rook barked a laugh, “what are ‘mage things?’” 

Davrin shrugged and set his carving on the table, “I need a drink. Do you want one?” 

Pushing the lid of a wooden crate aside, he pulled a bottle out of the last case of stout ever brewed at Weisshaupt.   

“No really, what ‘mage things’ do you think we do? I’m curious.” 

“I don’t know,” he wiped out a dusty glass with the hem of his shirt, poured the dark, bittersweet beer, and handed it to her. “Tandem fade stepping? Using those sparks of yours for something I really don’t want to know about?

“Hey, my sparks are perfectly innocent, thanks very much,” she wiggled her fingers letting a frisson of energy bounce from fingertip to fingertip. 

“That��s handy,” he pointed with the bottle of stout, “you can restart Emmrich’s heart with those if you’re too much for the old man.” 

“How do you know he’s not too much for me? There’s a lot of magic in those bones, or you know…that one bone.” 

“Thanks. Just the image I needed,” Davrin choked. “Seriously though, an older man, with a kid. Kinda. You ready to be a mom? Make sure Manfred’s joints are oiled?”

“What are you on about,” she snorted into her glass, “I’m already a mum, to you needy lot.” 

“What does that make Emmrich then?” Davrin squeezed his eyes shut, realizing he’d just set up the joke perfectly. “Oh Fenedhis, don’t say it…please.” 

“Oh, he’d never be called that…”

“Well, that’s a relief, I guess…”

“He’s really more of a papa don’t you think?” 

She smiled as he dropped his head on the table, “are you trying to make this worse?”

“It’s you it bothers,” she shrugged, “not me.” 

“What about this whole…Lich thing,” his eyes grew serious. “That bother you?

“Good question,” she tipped her chair back, forcing the front legs off the ground before letting them clatter to the floor again. “It’s his life’s work, and I can’t imagine there’s any part of it he hasn’t considered…”

“But?” 

She took a drink and shrugged, “what am I supposed to say? ‘Emmrich, love, do you want to talk about what it’s really like to almost, sort of die and unmake yourself to serve the greater good? I know it sounds like I’m questioning your motives and literal decades of preparation, but why not chat it out with some half-educated, backwater Circle rat who's done it, eh? Just to make sure?’”

“Why not?” Assan chirped from the curled ball he’d been laying in on the floor, earring himself a hardy scratch on the rump. “We’re probably the only two people he knows who do sort of understand the choice he’s making. And you’re not all those things you just said. You’re a Grey Warden, and more importantly, Emmrich cares what you think. He always has, even before you started climbing into his coffin at night to ride his bone.” 

“I’m gonna start keeping a tally of these bone jokes. We’re even at this point.”

“Double points if they make sense?” 

“Triple if they’re funny. Just don’t tell Emmrich. I want to keep jumping his bones, and he might not let me if he finds out.”

Davrin snorted and stroked Assan’s wing, a feather coming loose in his hand. He handed it to Rook who took it with a sort of reverence, running her fingers up the soft plume. 

“Would you do it again?” Davrin asked, “the Joining?” 

“Maker, Davrin,” she said, tipping back the rest of her drink. “We’re going to need something a lot stronger than this piss if you’re going to keep asking me these sorts of questions.” 

“I know what you mean,” Davrin clapped his hand on the table, momentarily startling a slumbering baby griffon. “Hang on.” 

He got up and started rifling through his field pack. She started laughing the moment he came back holding an old square bottle with half the label peeled off. 

“That isn’t…”

“Sure is. Grey Whiskey. Vintage: Warden Davrin, genuine Monster Mash.” He held out his hand, a challenge on his face, “your glass, Warden.” 

“This isn’t fair,” she handed him the soon to be poison cup, “mine got lost after that tunnel collapse in Nordbotten.” 

“Life’s not fair, recruit, drink up.” 

She eyed him and the glass he’d slammed in front of her warily before accepting her fate, knocking the bottom on the table and then into her mouth. 

It tasted like cherry flavored lamp oil with a hint of turpentine and anise seed, “oh, Andraste’s flaming arsehole, that’s terrible.” 

“Yeah,”  Davrin smacked his lips together in distaste, “too much of Lucanis’ good stuff. Our taste buds are growing back. Want another?” 

“You still want the answer to your question?” He nodded. “Then, yeah, give me another.” 

“So?” 

“I don’t know,” Davrin gave her a very dissatisfied look, though it was the only honest answer she had. “It wasn’t a choice for me.” 

“Petty theft?” He raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “I know, pedaling potions without a licence. Although you are a mage, so I’m guessing it was just plain old apostasy.” 

“Circle conscript.”

“You weren’t kidding about time running out,” Davrin’s face dropped into a grave expression. “How old were you?” 

“Old enough,” she tipped her glass into her mouth and told him the truth, “seventeen.” 

Davrin whistled, running his hands over his hair, “does Emmrich know?” 

She swallowed her throat growing tight, “no.” 

“But you’re going to tell him, right? Rook, you’ve got to tell him. He’s a good man, he doesn’t deserve…” 

“I will,” she folded her hands between her knees. “Just…not yet. I…let me have this, yeah? Just for a bit.”

[he-calls-me-kitten]

Playlist Drabbles #01

Writing random smut drabbles based on songs from my playlist (Solomon, Asmodeus, Mammon)

"We don't gotta be in love, no,

I don't gotta be the one, no,

I just want to be one of your girls tonight."

(One of your girls - Weekend ft. Jennie, Lily-Rose Depp)

Solomon is just happy you're here with him right now. Wrapped up only in his bedsheets and his arms. He can't sleep, no it would be a waste. He needs to cherish this - he won't have it for very long.

When you're both back home, you'll be surrounded by everyone again. He will never be your only one - not with those brothers in the competition. But he is one of the many that gets to feel your warmth and affection and for now, this is all he needs. It's more than he can hope for.

"MC? You're still awake aren't you?" He coos softly knowing you're not asleep yet either.

"Yes, just like you." You say, tracing the bags underneath his eyes with your pretty fingers. He can feel his heart melting. What a lovely apprentice he has.

"Can we go...one more time?" Slowly, his hand traces your curves, so you can refute him anytime. But you clench your thighs around his waist and kiss him on the mouth, smiling.

"I'd like that." You say coyly. His eyes darken in desire as he climbs on top of you, positioning himself between your legs. He's not the only one that does this to you - but it's just been you and him every night since you came here. He'll have to give that up soon - but atleast not yet. Atleast not tonight.

"Please tell me I'm your one and only,

Or lie and say atleast tonight,

I've got a brand new cure for lonely,

And if you give me what I want,

I'll give you what you like."

(Give you what you like - Avril Lavigne)

Asmo doesn't always like using his powers. Why did he always have to use them to make people like him? Wasn't he enough just as he was? Wasn't he beautiful?

Who else can answer him, if not the only person who doesn't get affected by his charm. "MC..." He barges into your room, desperate to be held. To be loved.

"Asmo...you're so perfect." You cradle his face as you ride him. Tears pool at the corner of his eyes, out of joy, out of reassurance along with the obvious pleasure of your walls clamping down on him.

"MC...You really mean that?" Like a wounded puppy he tilts his head to the side, intertwing his fingers with yours. He bucks up his hips upward, deeper inside you. You moan and struggle to balance yourself.

"Of course, Asmo..." He doesn't care even if you're lying at this point. It just feels good to even hear you say that. He feels so loved and ethereal as you gently press kisses on his neck and shoulders so you don't blemish his flawless skin. And he impatiently flips you around to return the favor.

"With all the lights off,

Everything is wrong, but it's alright,

Everything is wrong, but it's alright,

You're the only good thing in my life."

(You're the only good thing in my life - Cigarettes after Sex)

Mammon feels like shit some days. With his sin taking over, Lucifer's overbearing rage, his brothers' disappointment - it's all too much for him. Sick of being holed up in his room, he decides to get out of house to clear his head.

You are late that day, and he's already disgruntled about it. Maybe he'll go out and fetch you himself. Some attendant you are. They should increase your hours at HOL.

But lo and behold, there you are standing right at the door. "Hey Mammon, going somewhere?" He takes you by the hand and leaves the house. "Oi, you know Devildom like the back of your hand, don't ya? Take me somewhere new." He asks.

You take him to a hotel with a shimmering pool. He's never been here before, but he feels an odd sense of familiarity with it. Especially when he kisses you fervently, his hands practically ripping your clothes off you. He feels so much better once he's inside you.

"The Great Mammon likes this place. Bring me back here again soon." He says as he keeps driving with one hand on your thigh. His life might be a hot mess but atleast you're here. And that makes everything so much better.

[scottxlogan]

The down side to being a fanfic author/fan artist

Look, I know we've all heard it before but since fandom is slowly fading away to things like AI and people simply not leaving likes/comments it's getting to the point that it's turning away people behind fan works simply because there is no engagement anymore. Each one of us has our own process, so I can't speak for everyone, but with me when I create a fanfic for example, I get an idea, get excited about an idea, write out the idea/chapter and then go through an editing process that used to be a one time thing where I detail something and change things around, but often I find myself editing a few times to make the work the best it can be. This is a very time consuming process that often has me shying away from being super social when it comes to chatting because I'm trying to put together something that I'm not only excited about, but I'm also excited to share with others.

After all that work is done, I post it, then make sure to let everyone know it's there, taking the time to share it on Tumblr, discord, etc. and then I find myself filled with a sense of accomplishment and excitement hoping that people love the work as much as I do. I know it's silly but that moment of posting if filled with excitement/nervousness because you never know how something will land, but you're hoping it does well.

Then 24 hours pass and you see there are views, but minimal to no likes/kudos or comments and then you think "well maybe I posted it at the wrong time and it just didn't hit the right audience." Or maybe I should put out a regular schedule or that maybe I shouldn't post WIPs until they are complete since I know a lot of people WON'T READ a story until it's complete, which hey I get it. Books are like that. You get the whole experience and you don't want to be left hanging. I mean sure it makes sense but for me as a fanfic author (who isn't a paid professional author) sometimes in the past I'd do WIPs and it was the feedback that I received from readers that shaped and formed the story itself beyond my idea because it gave me even more food for thought to create. Now that kind of feedback simply isn't there. There's no reaction and it's quite frankly disheartening.

Case in point I had people BEG ME to write a sequel to a one shot I wrote recently and I told myself if I got 4 comments (just 4 which really isn't much) on the story I would do it. Fortunately, as luck would have it I got more than four comments and a bunch of people excited by the possibility of a story. So then I wrote it, posted the first couple chapters of a sequel and by chapter 2 there is one amazing reader (who is honestly the best and a reason why I continue to write in that particular fandom) who left an awesome comment/feedback but beyond that NOTHING. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING and like this is a story that I've already written 4 and 1/2 chapters on because people were so excited for it, yet when I post there's nothing. I get people are busy and life is busy but when it's getting over a lot of hits and people are seeing it, it makes me question what's going on here? Like are people just turned off by the idea of an unfinished WIP or just turned off by something longer than 1000 words? It's hard to sort it all out and a bit frustrating that no one is trying to make an effort to let writers (not just me) know how much they like the work.

TBH I just don't get it and for those who are lucky enough to get engagement I'm happy for you, but I don't for the life of me understand why no one wants to get involved with fandom anymore. If I make a post on Tumblr about a story even though I have THOUSANDS of followers on this blog alone it gets like 4-10 notes most of the time (if I'm lucky) and it's usually my closest friends just trying to show support for my efforts. This also applies to if I make an art piece, which by the way takes just as much time to create if not more, and it's starting to really depress me in general. I see so many fan arts out there and I would NEVER claim to be one of the best as there are so many beautiful artists, but I know my art isn't complete trash either. Sure, I'm a WIP myself as an artist, but when I reblog other people's art it gets them a LOT of notes and reblogs because, well, as I mentioned before I have THOUSANDS of followers who do look at art and do see what I post, so I'm not quite clear on why anything I post never lands with the audience when it's the same subject. I mean honestly it can't be that bad people. My art is just as valid as anyone else's (as is my fanfic for that matter) and the fact that I'm not getting any engagement is so disheartening. It doesn't matter what fandom I'm doing art or fanfic for I'm getting little to no engagement and I simply don't get it.

Again I'm not trying to whine, but I just sit back and see people praising other authors/artists and how great their works are and both of mine slip under the radar after hours of effort. I even got to the point that I told my sister today that I've set a number for myself in terms of feedback I receive this month and if I don't find myself getting that quota (which tbh is so ridiculously low that given all my fanfics I have written it shouldn't be an issue) that I'm going to quit writing and doing fandom art because it's clear no one really cares whether it's out there or not. if they did, I feel as if they'd let me know it and no one is, so at this point I feel like I'm very close to being done beyond the obligations I still have because while sure I do it for myself, I also did it for the community and if the community isn't interested in what I have to contribute and makes me feel like my contributions are invalid and unimportant, then what's the point? I mean really it's just sad in general and I'm well aware no one is going to probably read all of this either but it's just where I'm at.

[milkwaydreams]

*ended up writing more than I thought I would but let's go

MOM, I LOVE THEM😭

Their dramatic ass AHAHAHAHHA

Help, they share one single braincell and I LOVE IT AHAHHAHAHA

FAIFA GOT ME GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET, OMG, JUNIOR, OKAY, YOU GOT MY ATTENTION! JUST, LOOK AT HIM 😭😭😭😭

The kid going to their parents room after a nightmare:

Also, this episode confirms what I've mentioned before about Fai being friendly because he don't wanna be alone and it hurts me, I wanna give him a hug.

I feel his story will be a mix of him trying to "fix" Wine but Wine will end up healing things Fai didn't know was broken.

It gives me Rihanna's Stay vibes so much like "It's funny you're the broken one but I'm the only one who needed saving"🎶

(I can associate songs too easily so, bear with me.)

Look, as a Sunshine person myself, let me tell you something, when we fall, we fall HARD. What Gun did through this whole episode, it's so well done. Shout out to Santa once again cause I could feel all the emotions right. You can see him trying to pretend but even the sunniest days can suddenly become a storm and you can't hide forever, it leaks. It's a weird feeling cause like, no one told us we need to be like that, but the joy to see other people safe, smiling and comfortable around us, that's fulfilling and makes us feel good so we keep on this pretending until it gets really ugly.

Gun breaking down with Fai every single time is really sweet cause it shows how comfortable Fai is. And he is also a sunshine person and a protector so it only makes Gun feel even more safe. Fai knows ALL the right words to say to everyone and it's just too perfect. Whoever wrote Faifa script, I love you. It's just so warm and Junior delivering the warmth so perfectly... Once again, Faifa proving to be the GREENEST FLAG TO EVER EXIST and I wanna cry cause it's too sweet and I'm afraid I'm falling in love for real😭😭😭😭

Yotha not knowing what love is makes so much sense cause like, he didn't got much love from his family. His mother stepping away with someone else is already enough for him to be skeptical of love and his father celebrating his birthday months before just because he can't bother to remember, makes it worse. He doesn't realize what he is doing right now is already love, he wanting to wait to be sure it's love, I don't think can ever be possible cause love is not logical, is an emotion and everyone feels it differently. But baby steps for him. I guess Gun's absence is the most important thing right now cause that's when you actually realize when something is important to you. He, for the first time, took care of Gun and we saw on the preview that he is slowly opening up and I really like the way they are showing this story.

(Insert here Paramore's The Only Exception "When I was younger, I saw my daddy cry and curse at the wind (...) And that was the day that I promised I'd never sing of love if it does not exist. But darling, you are the only exception..."🎶)

Gun on the other hand, grew up in a healthy household and felt love his whole life. He knowing what love feels like is just right. He really going to teach Yotha what love is, even if they didn't end up together, Yotha would never be the same after Gun and for a good change this time.

Warit and Klao, Klao seems to have cooled down a bit, he is possessive af indeed (Have you seem Boom's puppy eyes?! I understand him😃🤣) but I think he now understands Warit's feelings better so he tries not to be so mean. I like that he just walks away and let's Warit talk to Yotha, that shows that he at least trusts Warit more, even though he is still insecure.

On the other hand... Aou playing a red flag, speaking low like that, the whole "control thing" like... WHY IS HE SO GOOD AT IT?? I've been wanting to see him doing something like this but NASKSBAUSGAIWNBWBSHBA I DIDN'T EXPECT IT WOULD MAKE ME FEEL SO MANY THINGS, WHY AM I ENJOYING SEEING HIM RED FLAG?! THIS IS NOT ME 😃😃😃 And the chemistry???? ARE​ YOU​ KIDDING?! They seem to be getting better and better every single day, omg, the kisses... I need a moment 🙃🙃

Add here Avery Grace's Ride or Die "Ride or die, we always fight, it's cruelty. Tell me with your eyes, promise never leave me..."🎶

I like how this show shows both Warit and Yotha talking about how they feel and felt towards each other. I like that they say the pure truth of how they are important to each other and how for Warit was "easier" to move on cause it wasn't a Lovers relationship for him, but Yotha struggles though he is now learning that he can find safety in other arms too.

Wanted to punch Yotha for making Gun cry again?? Yes. But he is growing so I shall give him a hug too🤭🤭🤣

[thelastspeecher]

Stanuary '25 - Week 4: Healing

I'm a day late but I'm still here! I figured I'd set this one in my Purposeful Abduction AU, in which Ford insists on being abducted by aliens and starts a life on an alien planet as a doctor. Meanwhile, Stan gets abducted by alien traffickers, and manages to escape, but is in very poor shape when he winds up at Ford's hospital.

This prompt is perfect for the AU, and gives me a chance to write Stan's recovery. Which, uh, I wrote a lot of. A lot more words than I thought I would.

Enjoy.

———————————————————————————————————–

              Stan hunched over the sterile, futuristic toilet, trying to fend off another wave of vomit.

              “Are you doing all right in there?” Ford’s voice called. Stan retched again, but nothing came up. He groaned loudly. The door to the tiny hospital bathroom opened.

              “Didn’t say you could come in,” Stan mumbled. Ford pulled him up. Stan’s legs, weak from poison and malnourishment, buckled under him once he was on his feet. “I can make it back to the bed.”

              “Sure,” Ford said, infuriatingly patient. He helped Stan back to his hospital bed. Stan immediately curled up into the fetal position, shivering.

              “You poisoned me, I know it,” Stan muttered under his breath.

              “The opposite,” Ford replied. “The antidote for the toxins you ingested yesterday has strong side effects.”

              “Ugh.”

              “Press the call button if you need to be helped to your bathroom again,” Ford continued. Stan rolled over to glare at him. Ford didn’t react, annoyingly remaining in professional doctor mode. “I’ll increase your fluids to compensate for what you’ve been losing from vomiting.” Finally, Ford looked up from the hologram screen of his clipboard. “Get some rest.”

              “Not much else I can do.”

              “Then you should get very good at it,” Ford said shortly. He turned on his heel and walked out of the room. The door closed behind him. Stan curled up into a ball as his eyes drifted shut.

-----

              The mysterious liquid concoction in the cup in Stan’s hand was purple. A deep, rich purple. Stan looked up at Ford and the fish-headed alien that Ford had brought in as a “refeeding specialist”.

              “You said this was a chocolate milkshake,” he croaked. Like the rest of him, his voice had taken a beating from malnourishment and poisoning. He hadn’t smoked a cigarette in months, but sounded like he went through a pack a day.

              “It is,” Ford said. Stan shook his head.

              “Nuh-uh. You put blueberries in this or something.” After a day in intensive care, he’d been moved to a general care room, to begin treatment that would help him recover properly. Now that he was no longer in danger of dying.

              “Blueberries don’t exist on this planet.”

              “But chocolate does?”

              “Yes!” Ford said, sounding exasperated. “Centuries ago, visitors to Earth collected chocolate plants and brought them back here. The different environment, however, results in cacao beans that are blue, not brown.”

              “This is purple.”

              “The roasting process turns- oh for the love of-” Ford pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just drink the damn thing. Dr. Quartir is a very busy fish who took time out of its day to observe you consume something for the first time in months.”

              “Not the first thing I ate in months,” Stan said under his breath. “I ate that poison hot dog. That’s why I wound up here.”

              “Stop being difficult. You know what I mean. If you keep this down, it will be the first step in being able to eat properly so you can get back to normal. Don’t you want that?” Ford snapped. Stan stared down at the milkshake again. He swallowed.

              “Yeah, I do.”

              “Then drink the damn thing. Slowly.”

              “Bottoms up,” Stan mumbled to himself. His stomach churning, from either nerves or anticipation, he didn’t know which, he brought the cup up to his mouth. The taste was heavenly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d tasted chocolate so rich. Stan’s eyes widened. He tilted the cup back at a higher angle.

              “Slowly, Stan,” said the fish doctor in its papery thin voice. Stan reluctantly took a small sip instead of the massive gulp he wanted. “Good.” Stan finished the rest of the drink. When he was done, Ford took the cup from him. Dr. Quartir tapped the watchlike band on its wrist. “I’m going to set a timer. If you don’t vomit before it goes off, we can officially introduce ingestible fluids into your diet.”

              “Excellent. Dr. Quartir, should we talk in the hall?” Ford said. “Perhaps give Stan some privacy in case he doesn’t keep it down?”

              “Yes,” Dr. Quartir said. The two exited the hospital room, leaving Stan alone.

              Stan laid back on his bed to stare up at the ceiling. The possibility that he might finally keep something down at this point felt as likely as summiting Mt. Everest.

              But as the minutes passed by and Stan’s stomach didn’t eject its contents, his hopes rose.

              Finally, the door opened. Ford and the fish walked inside.

              “Well?” Ford asked. Stan sat up, unable to fight the grin spreading across his face.

              “Keep the milkshakes coming.”

-----

              Stan grabbed the twin rails. Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself up out of the hover chair to wobbly stand on his feet.

              “Excellent, Stan, but remember, you have to use your upper body and lower body strength,” said the physical therapist, whom Stan had mentally dubbed Dr. Hardass because he couldn’t remember her alien name. Her voice was robotic, thanks to the translator Stan had to wear to understand and be understood. She was green-skinned, and like the other members of this planet’s dominant species, over seven feet tall.

              Stan had to use the physical therapy equipment designed for children.

              “Even before everything happened, my arms were stronger than my legs,” Stan argued. Dr. Hardass shook her head.

              “Perhaps. But I imagine that your legs could still bear your weight and move you forward,” she pointed out. Stan grit his teeth. “We are focusing upon getting you walking. You cannot rely upon your arms. Now. Come towards me.” Stan muttered a few choice words under his breath. “Stan. If you do not start now, you may never do so.”

              “Fine,” Stan griped. He took a deep breath.

              Your arms are there to help, not to be the only way you stay up. Stan lessened how much he was reliant upon his arms. Immediately, being upright became a lot harder. Fuck. C’mon. You can do this. One foot in front of the other.

              The first step was agonizing. Stan felt like his knees were going to buckle. The second step wasn’t any better. He could practically hear his ankles screaming at him.

              Ultimately, Stan only made it halfway to Dr. Hardass before he had to call it quits.

              “You are doing better,” Dr. Hardass said as she helped him back into the hover chair. “You have a great amount of resilience. Much more than I usually see from my patients.”

              “...Really?” Stan said doubtfully. Dr. Hardass nodded.

              “Before you know it, you will be jogging again.”

              “I wasn’t a runner.”

              “But you did do some form of exercise recreationally.” Stan looked at her, surprised. “I can tell by how easily you understand my instructions.”

              “Oh. Yeah.” Stan looked down at the floor. “Yeah. I did boxing.” He sighed. “And I’d give anything to get back to it.”

-----

              The doors opened with a loud woosh.  Stan stepped inside and looked around, his eyes drinking in the sight of a gym on an alien planet.  Most of the equipment looked similar to what was on Earth, probably because the dominant species of the planet was very similar to humans.  But there were a few things that Stan couldn’t even begin to imagine how they’d be used.  Equipment that looked like bench presses or leg presses, but were in shapes that a human couldn’t physically make.

              The alien accompanying him, Ford’s brother-in-law Lute, chuckled.

              “Your brother had a similar reaction the first time I took him here.”  That got Stan’s attention.  He turned to face Lute.

              “You took Ford to a gym?” Stan asked.

              “He asked.  He was curious about how it would compare to one on Earth.  According to him, it’s very similar.”

              “Yeah.”  Stan looked at a nearby alien doing chin-ups.  The alien looked a lot like Lute to Stan, but he wasn’t sure whether that was because they were both blue. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

              “Ford told me that you have some experience in gyms.”

              “I was the sporty one,” Stan said.  He looked down at himself.  “I guess you’ll just have to believe I’m telling the truth,” he mumbled.  He was still in physical therapy, but now that he was just about fully functional again, his appointments were slowly being phased out.  Fully functional, however, wasn’t good enough for Stan.  Which was why he wanted to go to the gym.

              My legs and arms haven’t been this twiggy since I was five.  I’ve gotta get back to normal.  Or at least close to it.

              “Since you have some experience, I’ll let you lead the way,” Lute said brightly.  “You can suggest what exercises you’d like to do and I’ll let you know if you can do them safely.”  Lute, whose human nickname was apparently from him mishearing Ford’s attempted nickname of “Luke”, was a physiotherapist.  He wasn’t on Stan’s medical team, but due to his expertise, he was the only reason Ford was even allowing Stan to go to the gym.

              Stan didn’t respond well to Ford initially outright telling him he couldn’t go.  Luckily, Ford’s husband, Fiddleford, stepped in to suggest his brother going with Stan.

              I’d probably be lost without a guide anyways.  But it’s the principle of the thing.  I’m not a fucking kid.  Ford shouldn’t treat me like one.

              “Stan?” Lute said, breaking through Stan’s frustrated thoughts.  Stan looked at him.  “Where would you like to start?”

              “Uh…”  Stan rubbed the back of his neck.  He looked around again.  “It looks like most of the equipment here is too big for me.”

              “I would agree,” Lute said with a nod.  He put an arm around Stan’s shoulders.  “Don’t worry, I run into the same issue all the time.”  Though Lute was more than a foot taller than Stan, he was considered abnormally short for his species, as was his twin sister.

              “I was gonna ask if you guys have any boxing equipment, but that would probably be too big anyways,” Stan muttered.  Lute frowned at him.

              “Boxing?” he asked.  Ford had taught all his in-laws English, so Stan and Lute didn’t need to use a translator to communicate.  But every now and then, Stan would use a term that Ford hadn’t bothered to teach.  Stan sighed.

              “It’s the sport I did back on Earth.  It involves a lot of punching.”

              “Punching?!”  Lute looked shocked.  “That’s a sport on your planet?”  Stan nodded.  “Ford didn’t tell me that.”

              “Yeah, well, he wasn’t very good at it,” Stan said under his breath.  Lute snickered softly.  “I’m gonna guess you don’t have anything I could punch.”

              “Hmm.”  Lute frowned.  “No, there’s some equipment I can think of that would be beneficial to working the muscles involved in a punching sport.  Some of it is even accessible to your size.  This gym caters to multiple species, after all, and while my species doesn’t engage in bloodsport, some of the smaller species on this planet do.”

              Bloodsport?  Okay, whatever.  Focus on the important thing.

              “There’s stuff here that would help me get back to boxing?” Stan asked.  Lute tilted his head one way, then the other.

              “I believe so.”

              “Great.  Take me there,” Stan said eagerly.  Lute shook his head.

              “It’s too rigorous for you right now.  You need to start off doing something that you can do slowly and gently.”

              “Like what?” Stan grumbled.

              “Swimming, perhaps.  Do you like to swim?”

              “…Yeah.”

              “Great!”  Lute beamed at him, showcasing the haunting needlelike teeth that his species had.  “Then let’s go swim!”  He leaned in.  “Ford told me that our swimming pools are different from those on Earth.  Apparently yours aren’t on the ceiling?”  Lute shook his head in disbelief.  He began to walk away.  Stan stood still for a few moments, processing what he had just said.  Finally, he gaped and chased after Lute.

              “Your swimming pools are where?!”

-----

              “Yeah, Uncle Stan, punch that thing!”  Stan grinned at the encouragement from Ford’s oldest child, Proteus.  He slammed his fist into the punching bag, eliciting a cheer from his nephew.  “Wow!”  Stan stopped to catch his breath.  He wiped the sweat from his face and turned to face his small audience.

              “You’re good,” said Lee, Ford’s nephew via his sister-in-law, Angie.  And, depending on how things went, one day via Stan.  Lee looked like the other members of the dominant species on the planet, with the exception that he had human-looking eyes, a trait randomly inherited from his human great-grandmother.

              “Can you teach us?” Proteus asked.  He was technically adopted by Ford and Fiddleford, but thanks to his shapeshifting abilities, often looked like he could be their biological child.  That was the case today.  Stan had insisted if they came to Human Town with him, Proteus couldn’t take his natural shape.  Too many of the inhabitants of Human Town, a part of the capital city inhabited by abductees from Earth and their descendants, had negative emotions related to Proteus’s species.

              Including Stan.  The trafficker that had abducted him years ago was the same species as his nephew, currently staring up at him with starry eyes.  Stan would die for his nephew.  But still, seeing him in his natural state was too much.

              “I might be able to show you two a couple things,” Stan said idly.  “I mean, I’m the only one on the planet who can teach you.”  He winked at Proteus and Lee.  “I’ll even do it for free.”  Proteus and Lee giggled.

              After Stan had become healthy enough to get back into boxing, he’d run into the issue of there not being anywhere he could train.  The lack of opponents was another potential problem, but the more pressing one was Stan not being able to get his hands on a speed bag.  Luckily, one of Ford’s brothers-in-law was a carpenter, who knew someone that made custom exercise equipment and furniture.

              Then, one day while at a bar in Human Town, Stan mentioned his boxing equipment to someone.  That person happened to own the only gym in Human Town, and insisted Stan set up some demonstrations for any humans interested in learning about an Earth sport unheard of on this planet.  Things snowballed from there, and now, Stan had a steady job as a boxing trainer at the gym.

              Lee handed Stan his towel.  As Stan was drying off, there was a polite cough.  Stan dropped the towel and looked over at the doorway to the room.  Ford stood there, a wistful look on his face.

              “Hey, Sixer,” Stan greeted him.  Ford nodded his head.

              “I see the boxing is still going well.”

              “Oh, yeah.  Being an ‘exotic’ human that knows things about ‘exotic’ human culture is a pretty big draw around here,” Stan said.  Ford nodded.  “Have you told your kids you used to box, too?”

              “What?” Proteus said eagerly.  He looked over at Ford.  “Really?”

              “Our father signed us up for lessons when we were young,” Ford said.  “But Stanley was always better than me.”

              “Yep.”  Stan raised an eyebrow at Ford.  “We should put on an exhibition match.”

              “Ah.  No.”

              “Oh, c’mon!  We’d make a killing!”

              “I don’t have any interest in putting on an exhibition match with you,” Ford said firmly.  “You’ll just have to wait until one of your students reaches that skill level.”  He paused.  “Or until someone abducts a boxer.”

              “Second one would probably happen sooner,” Stan grunted.  “My students are too scared to put much power behind their hits.”

              “Such is the difficulty of teaching,” Ford said sagely.  Stan rolled his eyes.  “Proteus, Lee, are you ready to go?”

              “Yep!” Proteus said, hopping off the bench he and Lee had been sitting on.  Lee nodded and slid off as well.

              “Excellent.”  Ford looked at Stan.  “Enjoy your date with Angie.  Where are you taking her?”

              “That hole in the wall place on Zerbz Street.”

              “Earthling Eatings?” Ford asked.  Stan nodded.  “I’ve never been.”

              “You’ve gotta go there sometime.  They’ve done some crazy sh- stuff with Earth food,” Stan said, barely remembering to censor himself.

              “It’s good!” Lee piped up.  Ford smiled at him.

              “Stan has taken you there?” he asked.  Lee nodded.

              “I went, too!” Proteus said.  Ford ruffled his son’s hair.

              “If it has the seal of approval from the two of you, perhaps we should go there for dinner sometime.”  Ford waved at Stan.  “I’ll see you after your date.”

              “Yep.  See you later.”

              “Bye!” Lee and Proteus called.  The kids and Ford left.  The large, circular door closed behind them.  Stan sighed.  He looked down at the electronic band on his wrist.  It almost completely covered the scar from his poaching cuff.  It was glowing slightly, signaling that he had a message.  He tapped the band.  A hologram display lit up above the band with the message from Angie.

              “I’ll be there in twenty.  I can’t wait to try food from your culture.”  Stan grinned.  He pulled up the hologram keyboard and typed out a response.

              “Make it thirty if you want me showered.”  After a few seconds, the reply came back.

              “Deal.”

              Stan waved away the hologram screen.  He grabbed his all-in-one soap and began to head for the showers, whistling.  His band chimed again.  He tapped on it.  The hologram screen popped up again, this time displaying a picture.  Stan froze.

              The bands required profile pictures for all users.  When Stan first got this band, it wasn’t long after he was discharged from the hospital.  Thus, the profile picture was of him near his lowest point.  His face was gaunt, his hair stringy, his skin pale.  He barely recognized himself then, and he barely recognized the picture as himself now.

              At the bottom of the picture was an automated message.

              “It has been two years since you set your profile picture.  Would you like to change it?”

              Stan went to press the button to open the camera.  He paused.  After a moment, he shook his head.  He closed out of the notification.

              “Nah.  I’ve got a date to get ready for.”

[loni4ever]

Get to Know your Author

Thanks for the tag @mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea :D <3

1. How many works on AO3?

31

2. Total AO3 wordcount?

205,244

3. Top 5 fics by kudos?

So We're ... Friends part 1 of my 7 parter novel length FrostIron series. Unsurprising that it's number 1 in kudos as well xD in which Tony and Loki go from enemies to friends & allies. I'm a little unsure by now how I feel about parts of the series but this one is one of my favourites

You Home, Merlin? part 2 of the above :) shorter, a little fluffy, a little silly. Tony and Loki being friends and growing closer

Wanna Be More Than Friends? Cause I Really, Really Do keeping with the theme, part 3 of the above. In which Tony and Loki go from friends to lovers. I'd probably recommend this part right along the first one. Mostly fluff, a good shot of angst, then more of the fluff to round it out xD

open arms the outlier in this list. It's part 2 of my other (pride themed) frostiron series: an au in which Odin put a spell on Loki to hide his Jotun features and it caused him increasing physical discomfort throughout his life. This part is set after Loki got rid of the glamour and can finally breathe, so to say. He slowly settles into his new circumstances living in the tower, dealing with his newly uncovered identity & glamour free body, makes friends (the Avengers), has fun and is just... happy. At last. God why can't he just be happy in canon like once no I'm not salty at all what do you mean xD

I've Waited Forever To Spend Eternity With You part 5 of the first series. In which Loki and Tony go from lovers to engaged :D pining, feels, angst, fluff. This is one of the above mentioned where I'm a little unsure how to feel about them. Still very fond of it though. This series kind of made me a frostiron writer (and writer in general) and for that alone I adore it

4. What fandoms do you write for?

Almost exclusively MCU (as in Frostiron), but I've written one little fic in the Zelda (botw/totk) fandom with another one lurking in the depths of my brain, and there's one Johnlock fic I'm planning on writing. No idea when I'll get to that though xD

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yup, always :) though it does sometimes take me a little while haha

6. Fic with the angstiest ending?

tears of the knight it's the Zelda fic I mentioned above, and it's almost MCD if you don't know how the game ends. Lots of devotion. Lots of pining. Tears. Poor Link :'(

7. Fic with the happiest ending?

Of the first frostiron series above, part 3 and 5 end with absolute fluff shots, and the actual end of the series (part 7) is a worthy contender as well. Though there's actually another fic I'd like to put forth more than that, as the happiness in it is a little different in kind and particularly dear to me: of playful yowls and rumbling purrs is a were creature AU, and Loki is a lynx. Cats love warmth and napping (as we all know), and Loki loves Tony (as we all know *cough* that depends I guess but in this fic he very much does xD), and it ends with Loki nodding off in a sleepy, fuzzy state of love and warmth. Just so soft and domestic and cozily cuddled. (I frickin nailed that ending (•‾⌣‾•) xDD)

8. Do you get hate?

Not once. *knocks on wood* xD

I think a big part of that is my fandom. MCU isn't exactly new, and I wasn't around for any major disputes or drama. I think the ones that have stuck around and are still reading FrostIron 12 years after the one time they met in canon (lol) are not quite as likely to get all passionate and up in an author's face about sth they might have disliked or whatever. Adding onto that, I'm also not very critical of particular characters in my fics (and if I am, at least not in a way one might see as bashing... I think), and I don't write about any particularly out there stuff, so it's no wonder the reception has been friendly haha

9. Do you write smut?

Very rarely. Likely couldn't/wouldn't write it just for the sake of it (though I do frequently enjoy it for the sake of it lmao). Emotional development is what I'm here for most of all, and if a sex scene illustrates/shows it best, then sign me the fuck up. As of now, I've written two, but there's one fic circulating in my brain that'll add a couple more haha :D

10. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Nope. Not sure I'd be able to, or even want to. On any kind of team task, I oftentimes slide into a mindset of "let's just be polite and civil and cooperate and compromise and then we can finish and go home" but I'm not looking to have that kind of experience in writing. Sure, sometimes there's a thing and you'd be well-served to put away some of your personality and the stuff that makes you you in order to get that thing done cordially as well as efficiently. But making writing that thing? Nah. That's mine. Maybe someday I'll be able to view it differently but for now, I can't imagine seeking out cooperation, nor compromise xD

11. All time favourite ship?

It feels a little weird not to say FrostIron given I write them and they're on my brain daily. That said, it's likely Johnlock. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are just such a classic pair. I'm most fond of their BBC Sherlock iterations (s1 and s2 only though lol... actually, no. only s1... and maybe like part of season tw— anyway) but they're rather lovely in most versions I reckon

12. WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

None :D there's a good number lurking but I think I'll get to them in time. And if not, well. Can't speak for future me, but chances are if I don't want to write sth (anymore), I also won't want to finish it (anymore) given my detachment/devaluation mechanisms. But again, who's to say

13. Writing strengths?

Fluff and humour. The fuzz. Fluff powers my soul, and I'm fairly sure it shows in my writing xD

As for specifics though, I'm not really sure *scratches head*

14. Writing weaknesses?

Dialogue, or: What The Fuck Do People Say.

Of course practice helps and I've gotten much better at making my main blorbos speak to each other but when there's others involved? Parents in law? Business associates? Some fancy schmancy at a gala? In these cases there's something I sorely lack, and it's a frickin clue xDD

Also, environment descriptions. 1. I am not good at them. 2. I'm not really interested in them. and I feel like those two kind of exacerbate each other lmao

Wanna play too? @bottan-blobbington @feltwrong @minhyongi @vilyanenyavilya @izhunny and anyone else who sees this and is interested— feel tagged! :D

[ayaisokay]

The Kids Aren't Alright

* ~ I'm sorry for making this ~ *

Doomers & Fatalism

Regardless of your age, you need a reason to move forward. You need hope. Yet, it's hard to find hope for teens and young adults.

Not a year goes by without an update on the planet's decline (at our hand), wealth is only feeling more unstable and unequally distributed, a pandemic destroyed any hope of sociability for some, and social media does more harm than good when it "connects" people.

There's no true community, nothing to take pride in, there's hardly motivation for ambition or wealth. Hell, we grow up being told we'll be a generation of renters, because it's a statistical improbability than any of us will EVER afford a home without working 3 jobs into our grave.

I can't speak for America, but I know my government haven't made any real effort to prevent renter's from taking that news and slowly inflating rent costs each month.

I'm a part of the generation that is thought to deal with the broadest range of mental health concerns; however, I'm also part of the generation that's most likely to be told to "deal with it," or "grow up," by the people perpetuating our suffering, or the peers that fell victim to toxic hustle culture— enabling the shitty circumstances.

When you start adulthood with so many problems that directly impact your life, most of which come at no fault of your own, you'd hope for help in addressing those matters, but it never comes.

We're told we're lazy, we don't try hard enough, and we've got it easy (which is a demonstrable lie). How is it any surprise we became hopeless doomers? At some point you just get the idea that we were destined to fail.

Threats of War

Now we're told to be ready for World War 3 and I'm struggling to understand why. What values am I defending? Why should I die for a country that doesn't care about me?

Sure, Ukraine and Palestine are in shitty situations, but saying that doesn't require me to do anything. Though they demonstrate something: the government will risk our lives for money, and turn a blind eye to genocide if it suits them.

All that matters is that we're made to feel like our interests align. They don't represent us. They represent themselves.

Don't get me wrong, I don't support either conflict, and I sympathise with the aforementioned nations; however, I am not willing to die for them— I don't think you are. So is it even fair for us to bother complaining? It's not like diplomacy has done a thing so far.

Whether we're roped into a war or not, it doesn't feel like we'd have a choice.

Hobbies and Corporations

Normally I'd propose finding an outlet for everything. I'm not sure that's ideal anymore. Commonplace hobbies like gaming, sports, martial arts, reading, and art, they require 3 things: time, motivation, and effort.

Thanks to hustle culture, holding 3 jobs, running a drop shipping business, and abandoning any meaningful social life is considered just enough and reasonable. That doesn't leave time for personal hobbies, entertainment, or time to actually live. A life like that is no life at all. You're an animal operating on the exclusive goal of survival. You're alive, but you're not living.

Among those of us too physically or mentally scarred to work like our peers, we compassionately took to pen and paper, or software and devices, writing stories, drawing and animating worlds, or making music.

I fear that pocket of joy is getting smaller. AI image generation has already impacted artists, AI voice recreations are already being used in place of some voice actors, and we've all seen the AI voice covers for songs— claiming "you don't need to learn to sing." It didn't take long for me to see "generative AI" being proposed as a source for track samples and stems in music production.

Considering such things, it's hard to motivate yourself to put your work out there. You struggle to justify spending time creating anything, and you're probably not ready to put the effort into producing enough algorithm optimised works per day. After all, no one will see it. No one cares.

That's how it feels.

Social Media

Maybe we still have digital spaces? Really. Are cespools like Twitter spaces you can enjoy? Even Tumblr is quite detached, with small accounts struggling to get so much as a couple likes— nevermind a reblog, and god forbid you get a comment or DM.

That's minor though, it's the relationships that bother me. The ability to lock someone out of your life, within 5 seconds, for the slightest of perceived infractions. You're sensitive and a snowflake if you need boundaries, and you're "rude" and "mean" when you're pushed too far for not establishing them.

You can join a fandom or community and run into those issues, but do you really need more trouble? Ive hung around with furries since I was 13 or 14. It wasn't a furry that SA'd me, and I've never been groomed. But as a child online, I was labelled as a dog fucking groomer (at 15), because I was in a furry community discord server. I don't like to think about how that made the young adult owner of the server feel.

Social media is good for "satirical trolls," who take pleasure in hurting as many people as they can, and then claiming it's OK because they're joking, and you should've known. Is it really worth the effort for anyone else? You know, us "normal people," not bogged down by million strong fanbases, actively managing parasocial relationships and morally questionable stalking.

Closing Statements

I'm not entirely sure why I wrote this post. I guess I'm just another girl crying on the internet when I should save it for the therapy I can't actually afford.

I want to be hopeful, to feel like there's something attainable to desire, or even just things to look forward to. It's been a long time since I woke up and felt there was a good reason to be awake or even alive.

Thanks,

- The Girl That Doesn't Exist

[thatweirdfetish]

In the short time I didn't have tiktok, I couldn't silence the invasive thoughts with thirst traps of buff women and Emmrich enthusiasts. Instead I opted to write scenes, things that make me think of Emmrich, and a collective of things that I can physically hear him say.

"I'll envy even the dirt that wraps up your body, my dear." dunno where I heard it but it's got Em all over it.

"Whether you come as a lover or an executioner, I am ready to receive you.” for specifically Lich!Emmrich

"Have you heard of the lovelorn wanderer? The woman that dug in the dirt for her not so lover?" lover girl is literally haunting the grounds Emmrich died at, no matter how he passed she still digs

"Rook darling, why can't you get it? I have had my beginning and I know how this ends, the middle is where you were found. The ever encapsulating unknown of the in between, it's beautiful but so horrifically short."

"Darling, how this almost ruined me- To be a man that lives in the darkness would have been better than to be the man that life found, the man on his knees who prayed for your return is worse off than the man who never knew its grace. (Solas)He spoke of fairness in a game that we should not play. The only equality to be seen is the one where you walked away. Love wants to be as simple as breathing, but it came as swift as the waves recede. Love does not care for the speed nor for the height of which the waves have grown; it only knows destruction or how it will swallow you whole." my brain went a lil wild after he said 'darling I thought I'd lost you forever' in such a sad voice

'Silence had never felt so heavy as when he looked up at me, cradling the limp stature of his ward. Our son, "We must go to the Necropolis.." he strained out, veilfire dancing in the collective tears we both were attempting to will away. "ahem- Of course, would you like me t-" The crunch of dirt scattering under his boot cut her short as he lifts Manfred wordlessly. The soft tremor of his shoulders breaking the thinly veiled composure he clings to as he strided forward. Neve's hand on my shoulder is the only thing helping to maintain my own.'

And now a little scene between my Rook's mother and her ever patient baby daddy.

"One of us has to consider my morality!" she watched as his grey hair slowly fell out of place, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he spoke despite his measured tone, the desperate dedication filling his eyes as he looked upon her. "Emmrich please, I know the risks at hand here-" "At your age?" he cuts in, her eyes quick to snap up to his narrowing.

Hands clenched on reflex as she inhales deeply. "That's not fair and you know it" she whispered before returning her gaze to him with an almost unbearable softness. "Yes, at my age. I'm not some naive dalen roaming the Arlathan wilds, nor am I some spry junior attending your lectures. You have six, say it with me, SIX years on me at most. Our children are nearly half our age. And it would do you well to remember that,"

She watched as his posture snapped straight, confusion clouding up his expression as his eyes bounced across her features expectantly. Her eyebrows knitting together in confusion, "What?" She asks, anxiety nipping at her tongue.

"Children- you said CHILDREN, plural.." he spoke slowly, carefully. Almost playing with the way the words flowed from his mouth.

"Yes I di-" it was her turn to still now, eyes quickly dropped to the floor.

Fuck, she hadn't told him about Emiliana yet.

He took a tentative step forward, gold clinking as he raised his arm to quietly sit in the space between. "Hyacinth- No, Cin darling look at me. Please" he begged, attempting to coax her. But she didn't stir, eyes remained transfixed to the floor out of guilt or desperation he couldn't be sure. So he did what he thought was best and attempted to speak one more time, only to fall silent at the shake of her shoulders as her voice rang out once again.

“Emiliana," she muttered out, "our daughter's name is Emiliana. She's wonderful, so intelligent and diligent. I doubt even a Pride demon could have pried her out of the Skyhold library,” a sad chuckles slipped from her lips as her hand came up to mindlessly thumb at her necklace.

-which is an intricate Locket he's realizing upon closer inspection.

“She's not very adept at magic much to her frustration, I fear it may be the only thing she inherited from me beyond the freckles. She'll be damned if that stops her though," a deep sigh filled the gap as Cin rose her head once more. Tears streaked across her face, but her eyes burned with such loving familiarity it nearly sent him reeling.

“You should see how she flourishes when she is in the thick of her alchemist studies, I'd dare to say her love of botany could put yours to shame with the course she's on at present.” His eyes are wide, careful to note every word, every loving detail she's sharing so rapidly despite the heavy reluctance her voice strained through. The pride he can't help but to bask in with her at every new revelation, and the pain of lost experiences he'll never share.

A small, almost imperceivable smile twitched at the corner of her lips as she wiped away a stray tear.

“She's grown to be so much like you, it nearly had me bent to the knee in mourning at what was taken from you all unknowingly when I ran away with them..”

The crackling of the fireplace and the click of heels against stone echoed against the oppressive silence as he approached her once again. Hands delicate as one came to softly grasp at her twitching hand to remove it from the locket momentarily, while his gloved one patiently cradles her cheek.

“May I?” he asks, voice soft but not demanding as his thumb traces small circles along her face in attempts to help clear up her gathered tears.

Swallowing thickly, she nods ever so slightly. The anxiety, the grief, the anticipation all of it fell to her feet as she watched him.

Still she was eager to drink in the subtle aging of his features with such close proximity, the once shapely cheekbones that's sharpened with the march of time. The ever encapsulating creases of his laugh lines that deepened, and the new ones that formed at the corner of his eyes. That one early onset grey streak that seamlessly bled out and took over the rest of his thick locks save for a long thicket that remains just as pitch black against his widowspeak.

Her eyes flick towards his hand as it gingerly prys open her locket while she notes the slight crinkles of his skin at his knuckles, the greenish hue of the veins under his alabaster skin creeping out from the clicking bracelets in a quiet act of defiance. Even the small dusting of age spots that gather on the top of his hands she's happy to drink up in an attempt to steady herself.

His sharp intake of breath quickly throws her out of it again though as the anxiety coils back through her like a vice grip. His hand slipped from her cheek once more, careful to cradle the locket between both palms that now laid fully unfolded in his grasp.

The tears the fell from his eyes causing her to harshly bite down on her tongue, quick to silence any of her own sobs.

His eyes quickly darted across the golden pendant savoring the images. The first one held the likeness of a child with some of the messiest curls he'd ever seen and a mischievous grin shy of a front tooth. “Rook– no, Edwin..” he spoke with quiet amusement as his thumb gingerly ran along the frame before moving to the next.

There sat the three of them, Edwin barely a hair bigger happily curled into his mother with a hand placed ever so softly on a bundle with pitch black tuffs of hair poking out, he sighed, one that rattled deep from within his chest. “Emiliana?” he questioned, as his thumb lightly grazed the picture while he turned his gaze to Cin.

The metallic taste of blood pooled on her tongue as she nodded wordlessly. Eyelashes heavy with unshed tears as she watched him return to the photo, a somber smile pulling at his lips as he turned to the last one.

He laughed, a genuine deep laugh at the third image. It was of them in their youth standing side by side, covered head to foot in soot and grime. Cin’s wild grin as she eagerly clung to Emmrich's arm, wearing his own coy smile.

“Of all the photos, of all excursions, you pick the messiest one to commit to gold?” he questions, his voice light with mock offense despite the tears that glide down his face. At this she broke, the hideous sound of her sob filled the room at his tender tone.

She sinks in of herself, clutching at her chest tightly in a vain attempt to sooth the violence of her shuddering breaths. Her voice cracking and she speaks,

“Don't just smile at me like that Emmrich, I- I don't deserve it, please” her nails bite into her skin as she clawed at her arm. “Look at what my fear, my selfish fear TOOK from you. I couldn't even, I didn't-”

Her eyes were blown wide with fear and regret, words beginning and dying on her tongue as she grasped roughly at the root her hair pushing it from her face as she laughed.

“I got pregnant not once, but TWICE and ran from you both times. I didn't even give you the courtesy of knowing it happened, I had every opportunity to after Edwin. You were there, right there in front of me at that banquet. We even went off to the gardens to be alone it was the perfect time, it was right fucking there- and then you kissed me and it's like I forgot about everything I was supposed to say and then we-” she paused closing her eyes taking a deep breath and continued, anxiously pacing.

“And then Emiliana came to my attention on that boat on my way from Navarre to Val Royeaux and I just.. How could I just send a letter..? You were rising so high in the order, your reputation was worth it's weight in gold, you were SOMEBODY and I was just- I didn't want to ruin what you'd been working your whole life for, how could I dare to-” she releases her hair, aggressively wiping her tears along her sleeve as she mutter on.

“We were so careful yet still twice it happened, twice. I'll never regret them, and never have but I couldn't drag you down with me. You had so much potential, THEY have so much potential, but I was just a glorified body guard who was apparently trying to move up the ranks by ‘attempting to seduce you’ to our peers.” She stops her ministrations long enough to finally look at him, the quiet recognition of her words lingering in his eyes.

“Cin, you know I'd never believe the humor of such hearsay,” he whispered.

“It wasn't just about you, or me at that point though. I had bigger concerns, and we both know how nobles respond to such cases. Lead alone the senior watchers at the time, even with the low birth status your abilities made you a high value bachelor for better or worse. If word got out about well,” she gestures vaguely to herself. “Do you truly think they'd just let me be? Lead alone Edwin? It would of been a miracle if they let me keep him, especially when he started showing signs of his affinity for corpse whispering so young..” sighing, she turns and sits down at the foot of the steps. Pressing her forehead into her palms.

“I regret not telling you truly, I have for twenty-eight years, Emmrich. While I stand by the decision that led me to leave, I won't forgive the means I had to take to do it. And you being so ready to receive me despite it, let alone smile at me? I don't deserve it, I just don't.”

With a soft breath he strolls beside her, quick to take a seat next to her as he stares at his desk mindlessly twirling the ring on his thumb.

“You know, I once thought about getting married and settling down. It was after you left of course, but not too long after that banquet if I'm being brutally honest. I threw myself into a new whirlwind romance, and convinced myself this was it. This is that one,” She lifted her head slightly to peer over at him, “Seriously?” she questioned.

“Oh absolutely, barely a month in and I was ready to look at jewelry. I was deluding myself off course, but you know how easily I resign myself to my whims, dearest.” he mused, earning a soft snort from beside him.

“Yes, believe me I remember the desire demon incident very clearly..” she muttered, a soft smile tugging at her features.

“Exactly! Well to what I'm sure will come to you as an utter shock, she was only looking for a temporary connection that summer. She was, and I am quoting her here, ‘up to her ears with art she needed to appraise and didn't have the time.’ A lovely woman despite it, we still exchange letters on certain Navarre paintings that cross her path once a blue moon.” he turned towards her with a coy smile.

“My point however is you truly never know what fate will pull towards or away from you, the only certainty for a lack of better wording is the inevitability of death and all that comes with it. We've both lived enough life to acknowledge that much, and I'm sorry for my lack of poor phrasing earlier.” his body naturally gravitating towards her as he spoke.

“You shouldn't be apologizing for anything, given my childish behavior up to present time I think I should be the one on their knees groveling.” she mused, a familiar teasing edge slipping into her tone.

“While my memory savours the time you spent down on your knees for me darling, I am regretful to be the voice of reason and say this may not be the best time.” he said, voice barely above a whisper as he glances between her eyes and lips slowly.

To say the breath escaped her lungs would be an understatement, as she stared up at him wide eyed entranced by his hazed over gaze.

A sly grin is what he's met with as she regains her senses, “Since when have you cared about reasonable times and places? Or am I remembering our time pressed against the ‘Love in Life and Death’ statue incorrectly?” her hand comes to cup his cheek tentatively, eyes scanning his for any hesitation or reluctance.

Here she finds only a longing smile and a warm hand pressed against hers as he draws her closer.

“I wouldn't dare, be certain the true event was even more remarkable than your memory allows,” he pauses momentarily to bring his face just shy of her lips as he stares her down diligently. “I would however be so bold as to say that whatever you've committed to memory I can readily assure the present reality would surpass even your most vivid recollections.”

Her hand trailed down his neck slowly to his collar pin, undoing it with an ease that can only be chalked to muscle memory as her nose nudged his.

“Such pretty words for such a vulgar sentime-” she began but the creak of the door opening snapped them both away from one another just as quickly as they were drawn in.

“Hey mom you'll never guess who came through the-” Edwin stared at the scene before him with a brief flash of confusion then mortification at the way they looked away from each other. Emmrich's crossed legs and his mother's fidgeting of her hair only sinking the horror deeper.

“Makers tits, nope- NOPE.” Quickly he turned on his heel to yell over the banister, “ILIY, NEXT TIME YOU'RE GOING THROUGH THE DOOR FIRST I REFUSE TO LET THEM RUIN SEX FOR ME”

Following a sign from Hyacinth, a loud snort and hiss echoed from the ground floor that caused Emmrich head to rapidly whip towards.

“Truly you never change do you, Eds?” a unfamiliar voice spoke much to Emmrich's delight and Hyacinth elation as they both bolt upright out the door. There by a very interested Manfred stood what Emmrich could only describe for a lack of a better wording to be, a hyper feminine version of himself poised comfortable on the landing.

[sunflowersbones]

The Hand That Feeds - V

Warnings: This fic will contain NON-CON, DUB-CON, abuse of power, violence, guns, gun violence, emotional manipulation, alluded to Mafia!Bucky. My warnings are not exhaustive, proceed at your own risk.

18+ only. This is a dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary : Your best friend’s and yours entire lives have revolved around violence, death, greed and fear. You’ve always had each other and took comfort in the fact that none of this was your doing; you never had a choice. But what happens when time winds its roots around you, such that even when given the opportunity to leave, he neither leaves nor lets you leave. {mafia au}

NOTE: well well that was ride. I'd really appreciate it if you guys would talk to me though. Feed back on the writing or just chit-chatting about the characters is completely welcome. Hope you enjoy!

~

You pace around Bucky’s room, waiting for him. The warm orange of his walls had always comforted you; this room used to be your safe haven. You feel jittery all over; your anxieties are building up; you just want this over with.

The door slowly swings open as Bucky enters; unlike the last time, he does not carry anger in his voice; in fact, he’s deathly silent. His tacit nature alarms you, his stare makeing you increasingly uncomfortable; you decide to speak up, but he beats you to it.

“I can’t believe you fucking tried to leave like that, like a thief.” He marches towards you with his hands extended, his fingers pointing at you. His sudden change in behaviour surprises you. You move back, alarmed; you trip on your heel and clumsily land on the bed.

You’ve never seen him so angry before, at least not towards you. Your fear might have reflected on your face, for he stops in front of you and takes a deep breath, his anger melts into pain and then annoyance as he shakes his head, looking at you.

“How could you?”

“I don’t want to be here,” you grit back. “It’s not safe.”

“Not safe!?, not fucking safe!?” He shouts back as he hits the wall beside him with his fist.

“The only reason you’re safe and that your family is safe is because of me.” He snarls, pointing at himself.

“You think everybody else who once worked for my dad has the luxury of protection?. You know, if this was anyone else, they’d be greatful.”

You feel your anger overclouding your fear as you shout back. “Grateful!?, grateful for what?; grateful for you deciding how I should live my life?, grateful for you treating me like I’m your personal property now, grateful for you touching and prodding me?” You feel your voice crumble as tears well up in your eyes.

“I used to be scared of this world, Bucky; but now I’m more scared of you.”

He looks at you like you just stabbed his heart as he rears back. He immediately rushes over to the shelf nearby and draws out a gun.

He loads the gun and turns over to you as the blood drains from your face. Before your mind can even comprehend what is happening, he shoves the gun into your hand, his hands wrapped around yours.

“If I am what you’re most afraid of, then why don’t you just kill me?” he whispers to you, his voice almost unrecognisable as he forces you to press the barrel to his chest. You’re a sobbing mess now; your hands quivering in fear, your fingers terrifyingly close to the trigger. Unable to move, unable to do anything to stop this, your eyes pleadingly gaze at him.

“That is what you’re doing anyway, so why don’t you just actually do it?”

You try to pull your hands off, but he’s much stronger than you are.

“Please Bucky, please just stop.”

“I’d rather you do it, Y/N; I’d rather die. I’d rather die than live without you.”

“I love you,” you wail back. “Please, please don’t do this. Stop, just stop.”

“You love me?” he whispers back his eyebrows slightly furrowed. “I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you...”

As he continues chanting, you feel his hands loosen around. You use this opportunity to move your hand and throw the gun away. You hear it clatter on the floor, away from him, as you sob a sigh.

“I love you so much more; you don’t even know; you can’t even comprehend.” He cries out as his hands move forward to hold your face. He kisses you, as you feel his hands go down to toy with your dress. The irony of the situation mocks you.

He rears back to rid his shirt, while his desperate hands scrunch your dress. You gasp as you feel him hard as he presses himself against you. He leans in to kiss your cheek, his heated breath tickling you. He’s overwhelming you; all of this is overwhelming you. You can’t think straight; you need some time.

 “Bucky, can’t—can’t we wait for a while?”

“No. No, there’s no need for that.” He whispers his voice filled with pain, determination and lust. You hear him unzip his pants and pump his cock. His hold on your shoulder painfully strong as he pushes you into the bed.

“No more waiting.” he buries his face into your neck as his teeth slightly graze you. He slowly pushes himself inside you. One of his hands lands on your hip while the other latches on to your hair. You moan as he fucks you, his thrusts slow yet deliberate.

You move your arm around to hold onto the sheets to ground yourself as he rocks your body back and forth. But his hand snatches yours and places it on his cheek, his large palm covering yours. His pace slightly increases, his eyes gaze into yours as he kisses your palm. He moves his face slightly to the side as he sucks on to your thumb.

The feeling of his wet mouth makes you mewl. You hear his breath hitch a little as your aching core clenches him hard. He moves his hand to your jaw as he kisses you again.

“I loved you yesterday,” he says, thrusting into you. “I love you today, and I will love you tomorrow.”

“Till death do us part, doll.”

And those were the same words he said to you a week later, as you were surrounded by your family and friends as they celebrated your wedding.

Your mother and Bucky’s parents gleamed. You look over to Steve only to find a glad, warm smile. Nat’s eyes were nearly tearing up as Tony, Sam, and Clint fooled around. All of them are happy, elated even. But what not one of them is; is surprised. It's almost as if everyone expected it would happen; it was only a matter of when. It was almost as if your misfortune was preordained.

And as you say those words back to him, his face and smile the same as ever. You convince yourself that the blues in front of you are the ones you’ve always loved. You convince yourself that their shade still remains the same, that they haven’t twisted into something deep and darker. That love for you has always been true blue...

*

[bl00eyeswhitedragon]

the ballad of neverending love I enemy! park sunghoon x reader, lee heeseung x reader.

Chapter 2

c1

Summary/ After joining Decelis Academy old relationships started to alter and new ones began to shift the plans you created

Or when the boy who infuriated you started making you feel another emotion that didn't feel like negative and the stranger you met started taking a place in your life.

an: heyy, this one is for the heeseung girls. reblogs and comments are welcome.

warnings: none, not sure.

He wasn't kidding when he said it was a pretty school. The architecture is literally stunning. It was about a week I joined and it's been smooth sailing except for the fact that I found out that Jay and Jake became friends with none other than _Sunghoon_ . I started to see him more often and it was 50% fights 50% getting along.

I finished a three hour lecture and I need a cup of coffee to finish this assignment.

"Hey wait!" I hear a familiar voice shout from behind me. It's probably for me right? I turn around only to be met with someone running up the hall to catch up with me.

_youre kidding_

"you" I mumble in surprise, pointing to him when he stops in front of me a bit out of breath.

"I knew I'd find you here" He smiles. "took a week"

"You didn't tell me you were also going here" I couldn't help but smile. I was pretty sad when we parted with no means of communicating but now I get to see him and hes in the same school I go to? wow

"Oh i wasnt gonna but my dad kinda forced me to join" He chuckles, looking down.

I carefully take his keycard that was hanging from around his neck. "Lee Heeseung?" I read from the card before letting it go

"And you're...Park y/n" He squints at my card. "pretty name"

"Thanks..yours too"

He smiles in return before gesturing to the stack of pages i was carrying. "assignment?"

"Yeah. its annoying"

"You should go to the library its nice to work there" He advises, laughing when he sees my confusion. "I'll take you there?"

I nod, following him closely as we walk to the library. We catch up on random things, I've learnt that he's actually funny. Just like the rest of the school the library is even more pretty. Tall and large wooden bookshelves made the room seem bigger than it was. There was a lot of seating also available but there was hardly anyone here.

"Can I help or?" He asks after we pick a small table to sit at.

"No its fine" I chuckle, opening my book. "So uh what do you do?"

"Business" He interlocks his fingers together over the desk.

"Did you not wanna do that?" I ask, unzipping my case.

"Noo. I didn't wanna" He shrugs, watching as I write things down onto a page. "Like I said, my dad wanted me to. I did my bachelor's but he asked me to continue with it so yeah"

"Oh" I nod, slowly. "Honours now?"

"Yeah" He sighs. "Life"

"My degree's gonna take ages to finish, so yeah, life."

"You're half way there" He comments.

"Nice way of looking at it" I smile, highlighting a sentence that was important. "So how's business?"

"It's aight" He shrugs, leaning back on the chair.

"What did you wanna do instead?"

"Medicine"

"You're kidding" I ask, placing my pen down and looking at him.

"Shocking?" He smiles. "I know its harder and exhausting but I wanted to do it...to help you know? But apparently I'd be more successful if I went into business"

"Oh" I couldn't help but frown.

"I got over it" he shrugs. "I guess he _is_ doing this to make my future better anyway"

"Hmm, gaslighting yourself is the way" I say causing him to laugh.

"My coping mechanism"

"Yeah but youre right, I'm sure he's giving you good advice"

"Yeah" He smiles. There was something about his smile this time that made my words stuck in my throat.

"Uh so..what does your....dad..do?" I ask. "Business?"

"He's chairman"

"of?"

"this school?"

"oh wait _lee_ heeseung" I mumble. "I should've figured that out"

He laughs, tilting his head. "There's at least 20 people with that name in this school"

"Makes sense why you were coming here that day" I mumble to myself. "oh about that, are you better now?"

"Yeah I'm fine" He nods, before checking his phone. "Is it fine if I go? My father wants to see me"

"Oh yeah of course" I nod quickly.

"Wait" He stands up and walks to me. He takes my pencil, scribbling down a couple numbers at the corner of my book. "You'll text me right?"

"Y-yeah" I say, watching as he quickly shuffles away.

_00-53-289_

_-hee🩷_

[bugismymiddlename]

So....quick hot take. And I'm gonna touch a couple of spots when I say this.

If Byler does happen and the Duffers please Bylers and they get what they want, something tells me it's not exactly because of "it's just the story they want to tell". I know it's not MY story, but since it is being showcased for fans like me to see and give my opinion on, I will. If Byler becoming endgame really was the story they want to tell, then it would genuinely just be a bad story and if you've been with me since the small start of my account, you already know why. And that's not on us, that's on the Duffers. If they listen to Bylers or if they genuinely wanted Byler happening, I'm not gonna sit here and just be called stupid because the Duffers are the ones that decided to tell a bad story.

People have high hopes for Mileven being endgame when they really shouldn't because that's what people SHOULD expect from everything we've seen so far, but with all of these theories of Byler and being pushed onto people and getting people into believing it and going towards it, especially because Byler has a bunch of these big names and people in lawful, psychological, "important" roles in their "community", people are obviously gonna look forward more into that and look at it even more and slowly lean more and side into it. If you perfer Byler more than Mileven while also knowing that it's chances at happening are severely low then that is a whole othet conversation. But if you firmly believe it's happening, then I honestly have nothing else to say other than my own opinions, showing other people's opinions I find and facts that I've found from valid sources.

Something tells me that Byler's chances at happening can increase from people's constant berating hurling at the Duffers. People actually send them death threats over Byler VS Mileven and it's mainly from giant demographics of Byler shippers all over the globe that watch the show. They tag the official Stranger Things account and put the most vile, nefarious writing within the message or post. It's frightening, and if I was a writer, I'd probably be a little scared to tell my own story too after that, and if that's what happens with the Duffers and they put Byler, then that's probably a factor as to why Byler would be endgame.

Again, like I said, because some of you only like to read parctially of what I say, if the Duffers decide to go with Byler on their own terms, then that's fine and it's their own story, but that doesn't just eliminate the fact that the writing is not a cup of tea for the narrative. It erases tons of character developement that they originally made before the 5th season and contradicts all of what the show had stood for since they started, and that's just really sad to think about especially since this season is the final. But again, it's their story and it would honestly be nothing we can do to change the narrative they want to make no matter how bad we want it, even though I really do hope, at least to me, they make the right decision and put Mileven in the highest spot for endgame based off of the last seasons, especially with the monolouge.

And before you say "Mike used Will's words in the monoluge", let me do a quick analysis.

The purpose of the van scene was for Will to let Mike go after realizing the depth of Mike and Eleven's relationship, and Mike's deep love for Eleven. In seasons 2-3, Will sees a lot that Mike talks about Eleven all the time and is noticing this thing with him where he is constantly in a worried, disturbed mood when anything gets in between them, and that's how Will is slowly coming to terms with the revelation that Mike is seriously in love with El.

The "crazy together" scene that Bylers love so much, is Mike telling Will about Eleven and how much he feels like he's going crazy only because he can feel her in the void. With this, Will is seeing a first glimpse of how Mike feels about this mysterious girl that saved his life.

"Just...please don't tell the others, okay? They wouldn't understand"

"Eleven would..."

"She would?"

"Yeah....she always did"

- Mike and Will, season 2

Mike brings up Eleven because Mike knew for a fact that Eleven would've understood Will's problems with seeing creatures and supernatural activity from the Upside Down, especially after witnessing Eleven's determination of helping Mike find his best friend in season 1.

And just a little imput that Will's romantic feelings for Mike developes from Mike's willingness to help Will out during his time with the Upside Down and the Mind Flayer. Mike's determination and commitment to help Will out of these unusual circumstances, changes Will's views of Mike from platonic to romantic. But it's clear that Mike hasn't reciprocated these feelings because he's still pining after his girl.

Proof of this is that a guy, a Mileven, had stated this exact same argument under a video where he had said that he was helping this girl who was in a wheelchair and continued to help her out day after day. His willingness to help the woman with her situation made her feel romantic feelings for him the more she saw him by her side, but unfortunately for her, he didn't necessarily bring back these feelings. This is the exact same situation for Mike and Will, as Mike only sees Will in a platonic sense, simply wanting to help his best friend through tough adversities.

Another realization Wil gets is how hard it is for Mike to express his feelings and how he truly feels about Eleven until people test him with their illogical beliefs. In season 3, in the cabin scene, when Mike slips out that he loves Eleven and can't lose her, Will is getting another look at how Mike sees Eleven and how much he cares and is worried for her in his love for her. This is after Will and Mike's rain fight, where Will had once complained about Mike constantly trying to focus on Eleven more than playing with his childhood friend. And now with this new information, Will finally sees why, and obviously feels a sense of envy from it as we see in season 4. He just wants his best friend but he seems wrapped up in his girlfriend, especially now since his girlfriend is now being hunted down by the military and needs help.

When we now reach the van scene, Mike is voicing his insecurities on how he feels like Eleven wouldn't need him anymore, which comes from the impact of Hopper's consistent limitations on Mike and Eleven's relationship, Max's manipulation of Eleven, everyone's judgemental views of their relationship, Eleven's stress from the situation happening around her, the struggle with expressing his feelings, and it all feels like Mike is the reason because everytime he expresses how much he loves her, something bad happens, all in the while of having his self-esteem already low from seeing the way his parents interact, how we know he was treated by young girls his age before the events of season 1, and seeing Eleven become more and more independant everyday and leaves him with the fear that she might just want to go to somebody that matches up to her level instead of a "dumb nerd who just got lucky a superhero landed on his doorstep".

But Will already just how much Mike feels about Eleven, that he's scared of losing her to the idea that she may just end up thinking that she's too good to be in a relationship with him, especially in a world where he knows the man is supposed to be the one to save the woman and not vice versa. But Will had another idea. Even whilst using Eleven to cover up his own feelings as well, he's already stated just how much Eleven hasn't been mentally the best since losing Mike, and we already know that love is the one thing that heals her, and she mostly gets it from Mike, and Will knows that from everything he's seen and heard. Will knows just how much Eleven needs Mike just like how much himself needs Mike as well, and he's not selfish enough, envious enough, to just take that away from her, and most importantly, from Mike.

Hearing this, Mike realizes just how much he means to Eleven and unknowingly, to his best friend too. The new information brings a sene of confidence into Mike as he dwells on Will's words, now knowing how important he is to his girl and that his insecurities were valid and understood, because he is afraid of losing her and he is afraid of her not needing him anymore, but she will always need him when it comes to the love she ever so needs from him and the care she ever so wants from him, because he is her rock.

Using this confidence and this new understanding, Mike speaks his mind to Eleven and shows her just exactly how he feels. And it saves her, it saves everyone, and as the script says, it felt like Mike's words were a giant, euphoric hand that pulled her up to the surface, entrusting her strength, using that same robustness to defeat her arch nemesis. And they move on to the next, giant chapter of their lives.

Thanks for reaching the end. If you've read this all the way through, feel free to share your thoughts.

(Slight) Proof:

[kiiwiigii]

The Bribe

Felix x Fem!Reader

Summary: You need a shopping buddy and manage to drag Felix along... for a price.

Warnings:

Fluff

Word Count: 1.186

A/N: Requested by the wonderful @lack-lust-3r. I hope you enjoy love. Also, my first time writing for Felix. Pls be kind.

I was a human on the hunt. I wanted to go shopping and I was sure everyone was avoiding me like the plague. Well, all except Heidi, but that was only because she was out of town. She was my usual shopping buddy, but alas, I was on my own for now. I would approach Jane, as she was the only other girl, but to be honest she still terrified me a bit. Okay, a lot. 

But I knew of one person who couldn't say no, and all I had to do was find him. I had been searching for almost an hour and was about to give up when I found Demetri and cornered him. 

"Demetri. Darling. Love of my life." I drawled. 

Demetri tensed before turning around and shooting me a look. "What do you want, Y/N?" 

"Why do you always think I want something??" I glared. 

Demetri just looked at me with a deadpan stare, waiting. 

"Fine. Where is Felix. I want to go shopping." 

"Up on the third-floor library." 

"Awesome! Thanks Dem!" I took off in the direction of the library on the third floor, wondering why I hadn't thought to look there before. 

"That poor, poor man." Demetri sighed into an empty room. 

"Felix!!" 

I had found him right where Demetri had said he'd be, up on a ladder putting a book back. 

"Y/N. What brings you here?" 

"I was looking for you, of course." 

"What do you want?" He deadpanned. 

"Why does everyone think I want something??" I pouted. 

He just stared. Waiting. 

"You and Demetri hang out too much." I grumbled before continuing. "I haven't seen Heidi in a week, and I'd like to go shopping." 

Felix raised a brow before leaning against the ladder, eyes appraising. I felt myself blush a little but maintained eye contact. 

"No." 

"What?? Feliiiix." I whined. 

"What makes you think I want to go shopping?" 

"Because you love me and I'm your favorite." 

"And you are delusional." 

Fine. If that's how he wants to play it, bribing it is. 

"I'll give you anything you want Felix. Please?" I batted my lashes prettily. 

"Anything?" 

"Yep!" 

He slid down the ladder and paused for a moment, bright red eyes slowly roaming over my form again before giving me a grin. A rather wicked grin and I realized my mistake. 

"Wait-" I started. 

"Ah, ah. No take backs. Come on, let's head out." 

I could feel my heart flutter and a harsher blush rush to my cheeks. 

Shopping with Felix was actually nice. He was mostly silent, but his presence kept most menfolk away. And with his hand on the small of my back, I felt I could relax. He even helped me pick out a few tops and some pieces of jewelry. Now that had been a bit of a battle, because of course he picked out expensive pieces and I almost had a heart attack at the price tag. 

He simply whipped out a black card and was purchasing it before I could blink. 

In retaliation I dragged him to the back of the store so I could pick out some nice pieces of lingerie. His eyes pretty much stayed glued to the ceiling while he fidgeted, looking clearly uncomfortable. I couldn't help but giggle. 

However, my little victory was pretty much quashed when he started taking my bags from me. 

"I didn't bring you as a bag holder, Felix." I said softly. "I really just wanted some company." 

"I know, my darling." He answered and I blushed at the new nickname. "But I am more than happy to hold them for you." 

"Thank you." I grinned at him. "Maybe I should make you tag along more often." 

"Perhaps I might come along. Depends on what you offer." 

I nearly choked. "About that, are- are you gonna tell me what you want?" 

"I will. Later." He winked at me and left me staring at his back as he continued forward. 

Why do I get the feeling that I fucked up? 

I groaned, falling backwards onto my bed, legs and feet aching from the hours spent shopping. 

Felix eyed me from the end of my bed as he set the many, many shopping bags down. I glared at said bags. The one thing you don't really think about when shopping is that you're going to have to put everything that you bought up. Felix snorted and shook his head. 

"It's your fault." I grumbled. 

"How is it my fault?" He smiled. 

"You carried my bags, therefore I got carried away." 

He laughed before clearing his throat, and taking his usual stance when he was on guard, perfectly serious. I lifted myself up onto my elbows and raised my eyebrows at him. 

"Everything okay?" I asked. 

"Oh yes." He smirked and then appeared before me in less than a second, and I found myself on my back with him hovering over me. "I just know what I want now." 

I cleared my own throat, trying to calm my suddenly racing heart and looking off to the side. "And what is it that you would like my dear Felix?" 

"A kiss." 

I whipped my head back around, wide eyed. 

"A kiss??" 

"Mhmm." 

"O-okay. I think I can do that."  

“You’re okay with this?” 

“I wouldn’t have yes if I wasn’t.” 

His eyes softened, one of his hands coming up to cup my face tenderly. My breath caught in my throat as he leaned down and brushed his lips against mine softly. My hands came up, smoothing themselves across his chest, leaning up to deepen the kiss, his lips cool against mine. I felt his tongue slide across my lower lip, begging for entrance and my lips parted obediently. He delved into the heat of my mouth, and I let out a low moan. He growled a little, letting one of his hands travel to my waist, giving me a small squeeze. 

Secretly, in the back of my mind, I had been hoping for this. I had been yearning to have his lips on mine since I first met him. I let one of my hands wander up to tangle in his hair, keening when he nipped lightly at my bottom lip. After a moment he pulled back, taking in my appearance: glazed eyes and swollen lips. He smiled before nuzzling against my ear. 

I giggled, pulling him close. 

"I have been wanting that for a long time." He breathed. 

"Oh really?" I grinned. 

"Mhmm." He burrowed further into my neck. 

"Perhaps I should bribe you more often." 

He lifted himself off me with a smirk. "Perhaps next time I'll have you show me some of the lingerie you bought. With you as the model of course." 

I turned bright red and smacked him lightly on the chest. 

"Sounds like I need to put stipulations on what I mean when I say anything." 

He kissed me softly again. "You don't need to bribe me. I will do anything you ask, my darling." 

I sighed happily. 

Yes, I had wanted this for a very long time. 

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