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sailor-aviator · 7 months

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Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter One

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter One

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.

Trigger warnings: Alcohol consumption, Sassy Bob, Flirty Bradley, Supernatural elements, Siren calls. I think that's it?

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: Here is chapter one!! I hope you enjoy this story as much as I am enjoying writing it lol I'm so excited to continue this one. Just a quick reminder to you all that I will be out of town Wednesday-Saturday, so I'm not sure how much I'll be able to update as I will be attending a wedding! As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated! 18+ ONLY!! You can also follow me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where I will be posting updates as well!

Series Masterlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

You crossed the bridge to North Island a few hours later, the sun hanging low in the sky, but not quite to the point of setting. You marveled at the expanse of water that stretched on beneath you as you drove.

“Not sure why the founders wanted to settle way the hell out here,” Bob grumbled beside you. “We’re too small to even have a damn Walmart.”

“Walmart is overrated,” you told him, turning the radio down. “Besides, small towns are so cute!”

“Not when you’re forced to live there every day,” Bob retorted with a roll of his eyes. You rolled your eyes back at him, repositioning Rusty who still sat on your lap.

“You’re too close to it to see all the charm it has to offer.”

“I give it two weeks before you eat those words,” he smirked. You reached over to smack his shoulder lightly, and he looked over at you in mock shock. “Don’t hit the driver!”

“Well, maybe the driver shouldn’t be such a cynic,” you teased, leaning back. Bob chuckled as the car reached the other side of the bay, passing the crowded beaches. “Does North Island get a lot of tourists?”

“Only during the summertime, really,” he replied. “It’s a calm, quiet little town with white beaches and pretty views all over the island. The founders have really played into the local legends over the years, so we have a lot of souvenir shops dedicated to those.”

“What local legends?” you asked him, quirking a brow. Bob flushed, the tips of his ears turning a bright red.

“It’s dumb,” he grumbled, but you were listening intently now.

The two of you drove through the downtown area, people milling about and enjoying the end of the summer day. The dinner crowd was beginning to pick up and you could hear the music blaring from several different buildings.

“No, come on,” you grinned. “You can’t drop that little tidbit and then not tell me.”

“Alright, fine,” he sighed, glancing at you. “For as long as the town has been around, there have been stories of…things in the water.”

“What do you mean? Like a really big fish or something?”

He shifted in his seat, turning down a side road that led away from town.

“I mean,” he hummed, “things like mermaids.”

You laughed at that, and Bob grimaced. “I told you it was dumb,” he muttered.

“No, no,” you giggled. “It’s cute, really. I love mermaids!”

He rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t if you grew up surrounded by them.”

“There you go being all cynical again,” you scowled. “I would have killed to live somewhere like this with such fun local legends.”

Bob pulled down a gravel driveway and past a grouping of trees. You saw a grand, white house perched at the edge of the hill overlooking the water. A porch wrapped around both the first and second floor, and you saw a path lead down the hill towards the beach.

“I’m glad one of us is excited to be here,” he chuckled, coming to a stop on the blacktop as you stared at the large house in front of you.

“You live here?” You asked, looking over at him in shock.

Bob had the decency to look sheepish as he turned off the car. “Yeah, this is home.”

At that moment, a small, blonde woman opened the door with a wide grin. She rushed out onto the porch as a burly, spectacled man stepped out behind her. Bob opened his door, and you followed suit. Susan Floyd rushed down the steps and up towards you, wrapping you in a warm hug before turning to give her son a matching one. Richard Floyd gave you a warm smile as he clapped his son on the back.

“You two must be exhausted after that drive,” Susan cooed, ushering you into the house as the two men moved to get your luggage out of the car. You smiled warmly at her and allowed her to lead you into the house.

“I’m not too tired,” you told her as she sat you down in a stool by the island in the kitchen. It was a spacious room, opening up into the dining room. A set of glass doors led out onto the back porch, the ocean sitting front and center in the beautiful view of the beach below.

“That’s good,” she hummed, stirring the pot on the stove. “Are you hungry, sweetie? I made some of my special spaghetti. It’s Bobby’s favorite, you know.”

Bob groaned as he stepped into the kitchen with his father. “Mom, I’ve told you. It’s not Bobby, it’s Bob.”

Susan smiled at the younger man affectionately. “Yes, of course dear. Were you hungry?”

“Starved, actually,” he smiled, plopping down in the seat next to you. Susan began piling noodles and sauce onto two different plates before setting them down in front of the two of you. Bob uttered a thanks before shoveling a healthy fork full into his mouth. You giggled, watching as he ate like he hadn’t eaten in months. You took a much smaller bite than he had, humming at how good the sauce tasted. It had a hint of red wine that pulled out the flavors of the garlic and herbs.

“How’s it taste?” she smiled at you, leaning against the counter.

“Ifs delisus,” Bob said through a mouthful of noodles. She scowled at him before throwing a napkin at him.

“Don’t talk with your mouthful,” she scolded before turning to look at you expectantly. You chuckled before nodding your agreement.

“It’s delicious, Mrs. Floyd.”

“No, none of that,” she scowled. “Call me Susan.”

“Yes, Susan,” you smiled. She smiled at you before turning to clean up the rest of the kitchen. Bob inhaled his first plate of spaghetti, and Susan was quick to load his plate up with more.

“Has Bob told you any of the town’s history yet, y/n?” Richard asked you from his spot at the dining room table. Bob groaned, hiding his face in his hands as you smiled.

“He told me about the mermaid legends,” you grinned. You saw Susan pause out of the corner of your eye as Richard gave you a wry smile.

“I don’t know if I would call them mermaids,” he mused, giving a pointed look at his son who refused to meet his gaze. “But our town has a long, storied history, yes.”

“Oh?” You asked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

Richard hummed, leaning back in his chair. “No, mermaid is an insulting term for what these creatures are. They’re fierce hunters, preying these waters with deadly accuracy. Sometimes they even hunt on land.”

“What do you mean?” You frowned. Susan gave him a warning look, but he continued.

“They say these creatures come out of the depths to prey on humans on the land, dragging them into the depths never to be seen again.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Susan snapped at him, Richard giving her an apologetic look. “I don’t want to hear any more of that nonsense tonight. Why don’t you make yourself useful and go take out the trash?”

Richard heaved a sigh, standing to obey her. He passed you with a wink, dropping a hand to your shoulder.

“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about, y/n,” he smiled, turning to head out the door. Susan sighed, turning to look at you once she heard the door close behind him.

“I’m sorry about him,” she grumbled, shooting a glare at where her husband had just disappeared. “He loves those crazy stories. Don’t even pay him any mind, okay?”

“I don’t mind!” You assured her. “I think it’s all very interesting. The most anyone talks about where I’m from is Bigfoot.”

“As much as I would love to hear you go on your bigfoot theories tirade again,” Bob spoke up, rolling his eyes. “I thought you might want to go out tonight.”

“Bobby, I’m sure she’s tired,” his mother started, but you shook your head, turning excitedly to look at your best friend.

“No, it’s fine!” You chirped. “I think it would be fun to go out and get to see the sites. Where did you have in mind?”

“I was thinkin’ I could take you down to the Hard Deck,” he mused.

Susan rolled her eyes at him. “You want to take her to a bar of all things?”

“Why not? The gang is going to be there tonight, I already texted them to make sure. They’re anxious to meet her.”

Susan seemed to brighten at that. “Oh, you’ll love’em, y/n! They’re such a good group of kids, and I just know they’ll love you too.”

“So we have your blessing then?” Bob joked, earning another scowl.

“Yes, you kids go out and have a good time, but don’t be out too late! I think your father said something about wanting to take the boat out tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, ma’am!” He mock saluted, earning a smack to the top of his head this time. You chuckled at the two of them as Bob rubbed the back of his head. He turned to look at you with a scowl at your obvious amusement. “C’mon, I’ll show you your room.”

The night was warm despite the cool breeze blowing in through the window from the ocean, and you chalked it up to the densely populated bar you now found yourself sitting in. You had followed Bob inside, having to grab his hand in order to keep from getting separated amongst the crowd.

“Bob!”

You turned to see a group of five seated at a large table on the far wall next to the patio. The only woman in the group raised her hand to grab his attention, and Bob eagerly dragged you over to them.

“Hey, college boy,” grinned a tanned man with long, curly hair that was slicked back. “How’s it hangin’?”

“More importantly,” said the dark-skinned man across from him, looking at you, “who’s your friend?”

“Guys, this is y/n, my best friend from Duke,” he gestured to you with a grin. “Y/n, this is Mickey, Reuben, Natasha, Javy, and Bradley.”

Each of them waved to you at the mention of their name, and you waved back with a small smile. The mustached one, Bradley, grinned up at you before shuffling over on the bench.

“Ain’t no need to be shy, sunshine,” he winked at you, gesturing to the now open seat next to him. “We’re all friends here.”

You sat down slowly next to him, Bob scooting onto the bench across from you and next to Natasha.

“So, y/n,” she smiled, leaning forward with intrigue clear in her eyes, “where you from?”

“Oh, I’m from Missouri,” you smiled at her.

“Missouri?” Mickey snorted, earning a ribbing from Javy. You chuckled, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Yeah, it’s not glamorous or anything, but it’s home,” you explained.

Reuben leaned around Bradley to look at you. “So you were in the same major as Bob, right? How did you even get into that?”

“Oh, I’ve always had a fascination with the sea, I guess. Felt like I might have been a mermaid in another life,” you joked, and the group chuckled, earning a look from Bob as you looked around uncertainly. “Did I say something funny?”

“Nah, sunshine,” Bradley grinned. “It’s just cute is all. Imagine you being a little mermaid.”

“In fairness, I was five,” you blushed, and he reached down to pinch your cheek gently.

“Don’t go gettin’ shy on us again,” he drawled. Javy rolled his eyes, taking a sip from the glass of beer in front of him.

“You’re almost putting Jake to shame right now,” he chuckled, causing Mickey and Reuben to both snort. Bob looked around the bar, brow furrowing.

“Speaking of, where is he?” He asked the rest of the group. Bradley let out a low chuckle, resting his arm behind you as Natasha rolled her eyes at the name.

“Mandy has been especially clingy, as of late,” Reuben frowned, peering towards the bar with a pointed look. Bob turned, frowning at what he saw. “Been dropping hints left and right for weeks. She barely leaves his side.”

“Well, yeah,” Bradley scoffed, taking a swig from his bottle. “I’m not surprised since it’s almost time for-”

Natasha cleared her throat, giving a pointed glance to you.

“Almost time for what?” you asked, looking around at the table. No one said a thing, giving small glares at Bradley who shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He cleared his throat and looked down at you, an easy smile spreading across his face.

“I just noticed that you don’t have a drink, sunshine,” he said. “Why don’t you come with me to the bar, and I’ll get you something?”

You gave one last look around the table before nodding slowly. “Yeah, okay. I could use a drink.”

You stood, Bradley close behind you, and you looked over at Bob. “You’re usual?”

“Please,” he said, giving you a tight lipped smile. You returned it softly, following Bradley up to the bar.

“Bradley,” hummed the older woman behind the bar, green eyes narrowing in on him as she saw you next to him.

“Penny,” he smirked, leaning against the counter. She walked over to the two of you, placing a hand on her hip as she frowned at him.

“What can I get you?” She asked him.

“Two beers and?” He turned to you, eyebrow raised.

“A jack and coke, please,” you smiled at her. She returned the gesture warmly, moving to make your drink.

“You best be careful around this one, honey,” she drawled, eyeing the man next to you. “He has a habit of goin’ around breaking hearts.”

“Penny, you wound me,” Bradley cried in mock hurt, gaping mouth quickly turning into another grin. He shot you a wink. “I would never do that to sunshine here.”

Penny snorted, handing him two beers and you your glass. “Right. You’re no better than Seresin over here.”

She jerked her head to the other side of the bar. You followed her gaze, seeing a blond man turn at the sound of his name. He glanced over to where Penny was looking at you and Bradley leaning up against the bar. He had an easy smirk on his face that rivaled Bradley’s, and when he turned his green eyes to you, you swear your heart stopped beating for a moment. His eyes were like sea glass, a frosty, almost moss colored green. It was like the world faded to black around you as you looked at him. You felt something that you could only describe as a tether snapping into place as his eyes bore into yours. If you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn his eyes started glowing as he continued to stare into the very depths of your soul.

“Y/n?”

Your eyes snapped to the side where Bradley was watching you worriedly. You shook the silly thoughts from your head. “I’m sorry, what?”

Bradley chuckled down at you, a hint of worry still tugging at his lips.

“I was just asking if you were ready to head back to the others?”

“Oh,” you trailed off, glancing back at the stranger across the bar. He was still staring at you, face unreadable. The brunette standing next to him looked very put out as he continued to ignore her.

“Jake!” She hissed at him, gripping his jaw and turning his face to look at her. “Are you listening to me?”

Jake looked down at her, a puzzled expression on his face. “Huh?”

“You are so dense sometimes,” she snapped, dropping her hand back to her side. The stranger, Jake, glanced back over at you, and the brunette followed his line of sight, scowling when she saw you. Bradley let out a low whistle before nudging you with his elbow playfully.

“Would sure hate to be him right about now,” he joked, an exaggerated grimace making you giggle. “Mandy is no joke when she’s pissed.”

“Jake!” Mandy shrieked. You chanced another look across the bar. Mandy looked like she was about to blow a fuse as she stared daggers between you and the man at her side. Said man was now frowning, eyes darting between you and Bradley. “I’m talking to you!”

“C’mon, sunshine,” Bradley said with a roll of his eyes at the couple across the bar. “If we stay any longer, I might lose my hearing.”

You followed him back to the table silently, still feeling the heavy weight of two green eyes on your back.

You slept with the window open that night, eager to feel the sea air on your skin as you slept. Your curtains billowed lightly as the moonlight poured into your room. You tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position to fall back asleep in. Your bed wasn’t uncomfortable, quite the opposite in fact, so you weren’t sure what had woken you up. You glanced at your phone, the numbers on the screen showing that it was far too early in the morning to still be awake. You huffed out a sigh, listening to the waves as they crashed against the shore below. That was when you heard it.

You weren’t sure what it was at first, it was so unlike anything you had ever experienced. It was a low hum that slowly turned into a lamentful cry amongst the breaking waves. You tossed your blankets back, quickly getting up and padding over to the window. The cry turned into what you could only describe as a song, not too dissimilar to one a whale would make, but this sounded almost…human? You peered out the window, heart racing as you continued to listen to the strange song. You felt a yearning unlike any other crescendo inside of you, calling to you from a distance almost like it wasn’t even your own. Your mind began to feel heavy, hazy with what, you weren’t sure. The song continued, calling to you, begging you to follow. Your eyes grew lidded, skin warm as you felt the call seep into your skin, drowning everything out but the inherent need to obey. You turned, taking a step towards your door.

A dog began to bark, causing you to jump and the song to stop. Shaking the cloudiness from your mind, you looked out the window once again. You caught sight of what you could only describe as a fish’s tail, silver scales gleaming in the moonlight, rising up before disappearing back beneath the waves.

#jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #top gun hangman #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman top gun #hangman x reader #hangman seresin #hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin imagine #siren au #mermaid au #mermaid!siren!jake #meet me at the sea #mmats

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corrodedbisexual · 1 year

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The ultimate shadow ban survivor guide

I've seen multiple people I follow, or their mutuals affected by shadow bans lately (makes me wonder if it's @staff's attempts to fight bots going totally haywire). As someone who survived a 2-month-long shadow ban on my main this winter, I thought I'd make a post.

First step of being shadow banned: calm down and take a breath. A shadow ban is just a stupid glitch in tumblr's anti-spam system. You're not losing your blog. You're gonna need a whole lot of patience, and deal with inconveniences, but it's fixable.

Read the incredibly useful post All About Shadowban by @that-damn-girl. It outlines the symptoms quite well. The only thing I'd point out is "your original posts won’t be visible to your followers either" - afaik that doesn't happen. Everything you post and reblog will still be visible to your followers, and also they can interact with your posts - like them, reblog them, reply to them.

Just like the post says, contact support. I recommend using a different email than what your banned blog is registered to; not because your ticket won't go through (mine actually did, as I found out when they finally replied), but because you might not receive an email confirmation for your ticket (it's somehow tied to the anti-spam thing, I think), and you're going to worry and try to send more tickets, like I did.

Now wait. And wait, and wait, and wait. They are SLOW. I've seen some miraculous 1-day unbans in the #shadow ban tag, but most people, like me, wait around a month for support to reply. Those are the same guys going through thousands of bot reports every day in addition to user tickets.

If you're going to wait, might as well keep blogging. Now if this is your sideblog that's shadow banned, consider yourself lucky. Make a new temporary sideblog, use it to post your original stuff so it goes into tags (mind that it might take a few days for a new blog to start showing up in tags). Reblog everything to your shadow banned blog so you still have all content in one place and your followers see it. If it's your main that's banned, you can still do that, but there's the extra pain of not being able to reply to posts or send non-anon Asks, since that is only done from main. Might need to register a separate account for that.

Some more fun facts under readmore.

Fun fact #1

Trying to send support follow-up emails in the request confirmation email isn't going to do anything to speed up the process. But I did tweet at them using this tumblr support summoning picture by @cornmayor and offered a raccoon blood sacrifice to resolve my issue when it was like a month with no response. This is what they replied.

3 hours later I got an email that my shadowban was lifted. I honestly don't know if it was a coincidence, but I mean, this is tumblr staff. Maybe they do accept blood sacrifices.

Fun fact #2

If you're wondering why my shadow ban lasted 2 months if I got a support reply after 1 month, well. It's hard to say exactly how their ban/unban system works bc support replies exclusively with pre-written template sentences, but basically they fucked up. The first time they told me my blog has been restored, I gained pretty much all functions back, except that my posts were still not appearing in tags. Which means probably that being hidden from tags is some kind of different flag on your blog that they forgot to remove. So I had to send a follow-up ticket and wait another month.

My advice is, when they tell you it's fixed, don't take that at face value, go and check all the functions you'd lost (replies, messaging, asks, tagging, appearing in notes, getting mentioned by others).

#tumblr #shadow ban #shadowban #tumblr support #reference

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sweetbrier2908 · 3 months

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so i made a few edits on this little piece on ao3 and i decide that i will repost it on tumblr because why not? i genuinely love this piece a little bit too much, may post it 100 times a day if i can. so please enjoy. reblogs and comments are appreciated. really. thank you for reading!

you never say "i love you".

you can't.

not to them.

it almost slips out of your mouth sometimes.

like when lucifer gives you a kiss on the forehead while seeing you off at the front door.

like when mammon drags you to his bed after a long long day and gosh, his hug is a little too familiar for you to not push him away and cruelly tell him that you have to go home, this is not your home.

like when levi shows you his newest merchandise with those sparkling eyes and you just sit here watching him screaming non-stop about how hard to get this merchandise and how much he wants you to be the first one to see it.

like when you and satan wander around the town and he introduces you to every stray cat you two meet on the way with such an enthusiastic and loving voice and it never fail to surprise you how quick he gets along with all the cats.

like when asmo takes you out for shopping and keeps holding your hand like he was scared that you're going to get lost, i am much more familiar with devildom than you, you tease. but i can't risk losing my favorite jewel in the crowds, can i?, he replies when intertwining his fingers with yours.

like when beel tries to restrain his hunger just to save you the last bite of his favorite dessert and happily splits it into two only after you reassure him that you're not hungry, but still, he wants to share it with you.

like when belphie asks you to watch the astronomy show with him and falls asleep half way and uses your laps as his pillow while you're caressing his hair.

like all the damn time they whisper "i love you" to you.

do you love them? you' have been asking yourself that question for a long time, since you came to this world, this timeline. from the outside, they look exactly your demons. of course, silly you, of course they look the same, you know they are still your demons. lucifer is still an arrogant asshole, mammon is still your greedy golden retriever, levi is still that shut-in but not shut-down otaku, satan - well, satan is still trying figuring himself out, asmo still says that he loves himself more than anyone else (which his family know too well that is such a lie because he loves them so much he once gave up his angelic beauty), beel is still the family sweet heart and belphie is still the spoiled brat of the family. they're still they. the demons you love. they still call themselves "family". it's just that - you're not a part of that family anymore. are you?

reality hits you hard. every single damn time. you wake up everyday and you're not in that room with a fucking tree as your bed post. you wake up everyday and the kitchen is cold because solomon always wakes up late and you two don't have a thing called "breakfast duty". you wake up everyday and the house is quiet, and people call this place "cocytus hall" and not "house of lamentation". you wake up everyday and you ask yourself, is it okay if you loved them?

even it's a different timeline, even when you don't belong here, even maybe that they're not your demons? you love them.

but you can't say that. you can't say that when you are going to leave them sooner or later. you can't say that when you only accepted to be their attendant and spend time with them in order for you to return to your world. you can't say that when you know all too well that they are going to get mad, they are going to lock you and maybe kill you because the only thing that you did up until now is using them and hurting them. how can they accept that truth? how can you tell them you did all of that just so you can comeback to a world that they will forget about you and not because that you have already loved them so much, you would risk everything you have just so they could be happy in this cruel timeline?. you can't.

because there are the demons who desperately waiting for you to come back to them as much as you desperately waiting for time to come back.

because you love the demons in your own world a little too much for you to say that you love any different versions of them.

because maybe you love those demons whose voices and faces and personalities are so familiar that you don't want them to dive deeper in this.

because you're going to hurt them again and again until their hearts are all bleeding and their souls are dead.

because they will forget abut you when you leave. because you do love them, every version of them, you love them, in every world that they exist.

so you can't say "i love you".

but it almost slips out of your mouth sometimes.

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me spoilers #obey me writing #obey me fanfic #obey me snippet #obey me satan #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me headcanon #mc has internal complex is that even a thing?

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asyncmeow · 3 months

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so, in case y'all are wondering why i haven't been too active the last few days, after a few people like catgirldick and predestrogen got banned just for being transfem, i decided to (mostly) leave tumblr. i've moved over to the fediverse in its place. for those who aren't aware what it is, i'll explain it later, but for those who are, go follow me there! i'm @[email protected]! expect a lot of the same type of content i've posted here - random shitposting (sometimes lewd), programming content, and other nerdy stuff.

for those who don't know what the fediverse is, you can think about it i guess like mixing a social network with how email works - anyone can host an email server, and that email server can talk to any other email servers that people host. anyone can host a fediverse instance on their own server, and that server can talk to any other server. you can see posts people make on other server, other people can see posts you make. people can reply to them, boost/favorite them, etc. and you're able to just... host your own instance if you know how! format-wise, it's a lot like twitter was, minus character limits.

for moderation, depending on what circles of the fediverse you're in, you're not gonna get "banned" just for being trans like you are here. moderation on the fediverse is largely dependent on the instance your account is on - the instance being analogous to "what email provider you use". if people think you're trolling for example, they can report you, and your instance's administrators will receive the report. if the admin doesn't action the report at all, they risk the entire server being blocked by other servers. in other words - the way the fediverse is set up, it's extremely unlikely that someone would be banned for the bullshit reasons tumblr users get banned for, while still having users get banned for legitimate reasons like spam or uh... other reasons you can probably guess i won't get into here.

my reasons for moving boil down to this: i don't want to support tumblr and their actions moderation wise, both recently and non-recently. i'll still occasionally be here to reblog stuff, but posts and other not-really-passive interactions from me will be more rare here.

also honestly, the fediverse, at least in the parts i'm active in, is a lot more gay than tumblr is lmao

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nicholasluvbot · 10 months

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CUDDLE WEATHER !

SYNOPSIS ! you wake up to find that it had snowed overnight and get excited about playing in the snow. nicholas gets excited too because when you both come back inside, it'll be time for cuddling by the fire.

PAIRING ! wang nicholas x fem!reader

GENRE ! fluff, established relationship

WC ! 0.7 K

WARNINGS ! not proofread, typos, that's all ig

AUTHOR'S NOTE ! i opened a prompt generator website and stumbled on this and I thought I was just so cute so I decided to post it... anyways, feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated and I hope you enjoy this!

MAIN MASTERLIST !

Nicholas felt a gust of icy air coming through the open window, making him shiver. He heard your excited voice and groaned, rubbing his eyes wearily. "Y/n! Close the window, it's freezing out there," he said and snuggled back under the blanket. "Wake up Nicho! It's snowing!" he heard you exclaim. His eyes immediately shot open, and sure enough, it was snowing! "Alright, I will. But only if you shut the window first," he replied. You slammed the windows shut and he let out a content sigh, snuggling back into his warm cocoon. After a few moments of peaceful rest, you suddenly pulled the blanket off of him and shook him awake. "Come on, Nicho, wake up it's late!"

Nicholas muttered under his breath, "No it's only 7 am, go back to sleep. We can go out later." He tried to pull you back down but you were persistent, and eventually, he gave up and got out of bed. "Hurry up and get dressed, I'll make us coffee," you said and Nicholas nodded before scurrying off to the bathroom.

As much as he hated the idea of stepping out in the snow, he loved the sight of you so excited to play in it. And he loved it even more when you two would come back home, and you'd beg him to cuddle with you by the fireplace. He never said no to those requests, and would simply hold you close to him without saying a word.

As Nicholas was getting dressed, he heard you humming to yourself in the kitchen, making your coffee. When he finally made his way to the kitchen, he saw you looking out the window, admiring the children playing in the snow. He sat down beside you and grabbed his coffee, and you turned around and smiled at him. "We should hurry up, I don't want to go after all the good snow is used up." Nicholas raised an eyebrow in confusion at your words, "What do you mean by 'good snow'?" He chuckled as you rolled your eyes and said, "Nevermind, you wouldn't understand. But just hurry up, please." Nicholas smirked as you grabbed your cup of coffee and took a sip, "Careful, it's hot."

After finishing your drinks, you two put on multiple layers of sweaters and coats before leaving the house. But no sooner had you two stepped out, Nicholas started complaining about how cold it was and asked if you were done playing so that you two could finally go home. You simply threw snowballs at him, and he continued to grumble while playing in the snow.

After almost an hour of being outside, Nicholas finally convinced you to go back home and dragged you behind him. He felt much more excited about returning home than he did about playing in the snow. When you two were finally back inside, he helped you take off your coat and you sighed as you felt the warmth of your house.

"Do you want something warm to drink?" Nicholas asked as he made his way to the kitchen.

You asked him for a hot chocolate and he said he'll have it ready in a few minutes.

You waited by the fireplace for him to return, warming your hands and revelling in the comfort of your home. Nicholas came back after a few minutes with two cups in his hand and a smile on his face. He handed you the cup and sat down beside you. You put the cup aside after you were done and looked over at Nicholas. He placed his cup beside yours and looked at you with that knowing smirk. "Yes, darling. Do you want something?"

Your request of "Can we cuddle, please?" made Nicholas' smile grow wider as he opened his arms and invited you in with a warm, "Of course, baby. Come here." You gladly stepped into his embrace, feeling safe and secure as your head rested on his chest and you listened to his comforting heartbeat. It was so cosy and comfortable in his arms that you never wanted to leave. Nicholas, meanwhile, wished that it would snow every day, so you two could cuddle like this and feel at home in each other's arms forever.

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teaboot · 1 year

Note

hello this is my first Tumblr and I am quite confusef Hel me!

Hello!

Tumblr in my experience is different from a lot of other social media platforms as there is no real goal or purpose or competition in posting. You can pretty much just say or do or add whatever and if people like your vibes the follow you, and if they don't, they don't.

If you like certain topics or Fandoms (groups of people who enjoy a particular show, book, media, etc.) you can search for it and click "follow" on blogs dedicated to those things.

Whenever they post something, you can see it on your dashboard (your "feed" or "homepage") and decide to comment (add pictures or words) reply (say something without sharing the post with your followers) or reblog (share with your followers, so that anyone following you can see the post, with or without adding your own commentary.)

Beyond technical stuff, there are some cultural things you may want to know about.

If something you reblog has potentially upsetting content- violence, traumatic topics, nudity- its considered an act of courtesy to "tag" it. This is so your followers who specifically do not want to see those topics can use filters to make those posts invisible. This is handy for people with phobias, PTSD, or photosensitive epilepsy, but also for people who just don't like those things.

There are a lot of memes that will not make sense. That is because posts don't vanish when they get old, so anything that becomes a "meme" often gets referenced over and over again for years, sometimes actual decades. Posts like "do you like the color of the sky?", "Horse Plinko", "loss.jpeg", etc. are examples of this.

There is no algorithm that decides what you might like and shows you those things. You are in control of your own experience. If you see a lot of posts from people you don't like about things you don't want to see, you can block them and never see them again. They won't see you, either. It's like making friends- you can choose to follow whoever makes you happy and avoid whoever doesn't.

There is a bot problem. Bots are automated spam designed to look like other users. This is often "cute single women" type stuff, but can also be anonymous or generic fake blogs that send out a thousand identical messages that accuse you or others of wrongdoing, or just send out basic insults. They will never see your reply. They only exist to cause chaos. You can report and block them and are encouraged to do so.

There is a difference between "liking" and "reblogging". If you "like" something, it is added to an invisible list so you can go back and find it later. If you "reblog" something, your followers can see it too. Artists prefer reblogs over likes, because they put a lot of work into their art (or writing) and the only way they can reach a large audience is if lots of people share it. Artists who are trying to get commissions or develop a career depend on reblogs to continue making art.

Sometimes an update or change happens that alters the website without any warning and everyone whines about it and adapts. This happens every few months. It's kind of dumb and sometimes makes it worse but if you Google "tumblr 2012" you will see that it's actually been a slow march of improvement.

Something weird will happen on April fool's day. Sometimes this will affect the website layout.

You will not get many followers unless you engage with other users. This is a cafeteria and if you wanna eat alone you can.

If any of your posts go viral you will see it forever until you die and if it's about Beans you will live out the rest of your days getting messages like "Are you Bean Guy" so tread lightly

You will need to choose an icon and change the appearance of your blog or people will think you are a bot. (Side effect of the bot problem.)

I have no idea if you are a bot or spam message this reply is an act of faith

Good luck!

#Long post

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merry-pitchmas · 5 months

Note

Will there be an exchange this year?

Sorry, I totes dropped the ball on getting an early start on the exchange this year but never fear!

The season of giving is almost upon us and you know what that means....

For a RECORD-BREAKING eighth year in a row, it's time for the Pitchmas Gift Exchange!!

Okay, listen up.

If you need a refresh on the rule, please check out this post from last year, but keep in mind the cut of dates will have changed. Because I've left this so late (again, my bad, sorry) I'm only going to let this float around until the end of the day on December 1st. If you'd like to take part in the exchange this year, please reply to this post by then.

Here's the TL;DR for those of you who don't wanna check out the link:

TL;DR:

Reply to this post to take part. Reblogs will not be included.

December 1st is the cut off date to sign up.

Posting will begin on December 24th - not a day before! And you have to have your gift finished and posted NO LATER than December 31st.

You don’t need money to take part - just a dash of creativity and the drive to want to do something.

Manips, videos, fanfic, and comics are just a few examples of the things you can do!

All pairings are welcome, but I strongly encourage all participants to ANONYMOUSLY message the person they have to ask questions about which they might prefer.

TURN ON YOUR ANONS. I’ve gotten to the point where if your ask box is not set to allow anon questions and your Secret Santa cannot contact you, I will no longer be trying to get in touch - I’ll just remove you from the exchange. So please, even if you’re sure anon asks are already allowed, double check. If you’re not sure HOW to do that, google is your friend.

If you change your name between now and the posting date, please send me a message to let me know. I will not be trying to track people down again this year.

Please don’t leave someone hanging. If you have no intention of doing anything and just want someone to do something for you, don’t reply. It’s not fair. (And I’m always looking for volunteers who will write for anyone who might get missed!)

Tag your posts with #merry pitchmas 2023.

HAVE FUN.

See you in a few, awesome nerds!

~Red

#pitch perfect #merry pitchmas #merry pitchmas 2023 #bechloe

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skzoologist · 6 months

Text

Meeting Bae at a fansign event

request: meeting Bae and interacting with him by @thightswideforhanin

word count: ~1.6k

warnings: none

genre: crack

a/n: As I mentioned earlier, I really don't know how exactly a fansign works, so I could only go off on things the internet provided me with. This is the result, I hope you're happy with it! I think you will be, dear, considering you just caused Bae to malfunction lol

Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!

!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!

!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

They’d had their latest comeback a week ago, STAY still recoiling from its mind-breaking effects. The feedback on it was overwhelming, giving immense glee to the boys who took great pride in their work. Nothing made them happier than their fans’ joy, caused by something they all worked extremely hard for. Shaking the musical industry was their goal, and they’d succeeded.

Of course, with every new comeback came the time for a fansign, something that was always exciting, for both participating sides. For the fans, because they could finally meet their beloved idols, and for the members, who were happy to personally chat with the people who’d supported them through their arduous journey so far. Bae was no exception to this rule, no matter what anyone would think. He loved his fans dearly, despite his cold appearance and hard to approach aura.

But god, did he wish they would fluster him at least a bit less.

On stage, in comments under every picture or video, in their own edits, it didn’t matter, never did. There was bound to be at least one person saying a cheesy pickup line, something they all knew worked on Bae like a charm. The man loved cheesy and bad puns, which was the exact reason why he’d been dragged to Chan’s lives several times, just for the elder to read some comments out loud and cause Bae’s skin to flare up on camera. It was an endless cat and mouse game, one Chan enjoyed tremendously.

So imagine when these people could say those things to Bae’s face directly. He slightly dreaded it already to be quite honest, even though the event hadn’t even started yet.

“How’re ya holdin’ up?” - it was Chan’s voice, a sweet melody calming to his anxious mind. “It feels like there’s more than usual.” - that was Bae’s only reply, his dominant hand disappearing behind the veil of his hair, no doubt to lightly tug on his earlobe hidden there.

The leader just grabbed onto Bae’s shoulder, giving it a few gentle squeezes, reassuring the younger successfully. Bae couldn’t help feeling like this, he never did exceptionally well in social settings. Maybe that was why he naturally gravitated towards Jisung, the two too similar in that sense for their own good.

An unexpected force threw Bae almost off-balance, his own legs and a strong pair of arms immediately compensating for the sudden added weight to his back.

“I’m soooooooo excited! Aren’t you, Bae hyung?” - it was their little sunshine, his energy off the charts.

Bae and Chan just chuckled at him, the latter ruffling his hair with fond eyes. The tallest member took the young one’s legs into his hold, shifting the boy properly up onto his back and giving him a piggyback ride. Felix naturally didn’t complain, happiness practically radiating from him thanks to the surprise affection Bae was giving him. This caused Chan to loudly laugh, his phone already in his hands and taking a video to show the others later. Bae’s cheeks slightly dusted, but he was used to this already a bit, thankfully.

“Oh wow, Hyung’s favouritism is showing again.” “Seungmin, what are you– Oh my god, you’re right. Dal hyuung!” - Jeongin’s voice whined after he rounded the corner, eyes watching the scene in mock disbelief.

Bae merely looked back at them with a raised eyebrow, as if to ask them both if they wanted to take Felix’s place. The two immediately shook their heads, dropping the act before they activated their hyung’s overbearingly affectionate side and doomed themselves to be coddled to death.

The others trickled into the same room as well, their eyes instantly latching onto Bae and teasing him, asking where their own piggyback rides were. Changbin was the most vocal about it, only calming down once he was promised to be the next to get one. The otter’s ears were already red, even though he hadn’t even met a single STAY yet. He had to do something about it and quickly, lest they were called to go out like this. But no matter what he wanted, Felix had a plan of his own, not releasing Bae even when the man stopped holding him up.

“Lixie…” “What? You started it, now you’re stuck with me!”

What had he done to deserve this…?

“Hyung’s gonna have to go out like this and I’m already loving it.” - it was Jisung, eyes twinkling in evil delight. “Oh absolutely, me too. You record and I take photos?” - Hyunjin replied, the two sharing a brofist before laughing at the glare Bae sent them.

True to his words, Felix didn’t let the older go, causing Bae to start holding him again in fear of any accidents happening otherwise, injuring one of them.

They were soon called to go out and take their places at their respective booths a few minutes later. The mere thought made Bae hesitate, something that Minho took the opportunity of, stealing a butt smack from both him and the koala clinging to his back. Felix was merely surprised for a split second, while Bae yelped quietly, glaring at the running form of his cat-like hyung with no real heat behind his gaze.

Knowing he had to get it over with either way, he followed Minho, bumping into the man playfully before letting the younger get down from his back. There was cheering from their audience, no doubt enjoying their silly interactions that were hard to come by when it involved the Glacial Prince.

Bae took his seat, being the sixth in line, sitting right between Hyunjin and Minho. The fans were absolutely ecstatic, excited chatter barely contained for the sake of their idols. Everyone was holding something, either an accessory for the members to put on, or a plushie to cuddle and play with. The first fan was taken to the first member, the beloved maknae of the group. A minute or two later they were ushered over to Seungmin’s booth, the next fan taking their place.

It went like this for a while, nothing major happening. Thankfully the first few fans decided to have mercy on Bae, merely chatting with him about their latest comeback happily and not giving him anything too embarrassing to put on yet.

This soon changed, the next fan looking entirely too thrilled to take a seat in front of him at last. Bae recognised them, remembering how they usually held a sign with a pickup line about him or Jisung in their concerts, shouting their names and overpowering the speakers’ high volume. He mentioned this to them with a gentle smile while he signed the page their album was marked at, causing them to gasp and nearly shout in excitement and disbelief.

“Of course I remember, I have good memory.” - he chuckled out, pushing back the album into their awaiting hands with another smile. “Ohmygod I love you Bae oppa, I have the biggest crush on you!” - the words stumbled out of their mouth, surprising not just Bae, but themselves as well.

The idol blinked back at them, pale cheeks rapidly tinting red with each passing second. No words that formed in his mind could successfully leave his mouth, giving ample time for the STAY in front of him to recover. They quickly placed some clip-on cat ears onto the table, seemingly high quality and fluffy. Pleading eyes stared into Bae’s own, their request clear and unmistakable.

With a quiet, well-hidden sigh and closed eyes, Bae gathered his inner strength, knowing fully well his members would not let him live this down for a while. It was only a matter of time before one of these somehow got onto his head, he knew that well.

So, his hands gently took the accessories, swiftly attaching them onto his long hair that was dyed a deep violet. The reaction was immediate, a poorly concealed squeal leaving the fan’s lips as they complimented him over and over, the gushing merely strengthening the rising colour on his cheeks.

For their last minute they simply talked, the fan grateful for having been able to meet him this close and expressing their gratitude. Bae gently smiled at that, thanking them for supporting the band so much through thick and thin.

When the pair's time was up, the eager fan promised to attend the next concert as well, not wanting to let their crush down. His skin that was slightly faring better heated up once again, his attention stolen by the next fan and the album he had to sign. Bae tried his best to focus solely on the new fan in front of him, despite feeling the stares on the sides of his face from his members, no doubt lured by his flustered state that was pointed out by the shy girl sitting at his booth.

“YO, BAE HYUNG, THOSE LOOK GOOD ON YOU! WANT ME TO BUY YOU SOME?” - Jisung’s voice cut through the shushed chatter, pulling in everyone’s attention. “Don’t worry Sungie, I already got it covered.” - Minho replied calmly, that smug expression already sitting on his face as he watched Bae.

The male in question could only hide behind his hands, his walls of defence completely crushed and crumbled down, clearly hearing everyone’s chuckles and the fans cheering as he only hid deeper into the palms of his hands. He couldn’t look into anyone’s eyes, not even the poor fan who was right in front of him, obviously enjoying the show, if her giggles were anything to go by.

Flustered, Bae could only hope his fans would have mercy on him for the remainder of the event, knowing fully well that it was naive thinking.

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greenbergwrites · 5 months

Note

hello me again!! I absolutely loved seeing more of the possessive!stucky verse and if you could share the parts you have from them in modern day I would die of happiness 🫶🏽

Oh, I'm sorry, babe. I definitely saw your reblog/reply to that post and totally forgot to post the rest of what I have.

Here you go, the last of what I had written for the blood in my veins 'verse

It was going to be called learning to breathe again, which I thought was apt

----

If asked, Steve Rogers would say that the world ends on a dreary, snowy day in 1945 while he clings to the side of a train in the French Alps. It doesn’t begin again until 2014 when he stands under a bridge in Washington, D.C., surrounded by chaos and facing off with the world’s deadliest assassin.

It doesn’t matter that the world says, “who the hell is Bucky?”

It doesn’t matter that the world tries to kill him, just days later, on a helicarrier falling from the sky. It doesn’t matter that it’s his turn to fall or that he almost drowns.

The only thing that matters is his last sight before he goes into the water: familiar, beloved bright eyes staring at him in recognition.

Steve’s happy to die in that moment. It’s a good way to go if those eyes are the last thing he knows in this life.

The world - no, the entire fucking universe - pulls him out of the Potomac. Steve doesn’t remember it and there’s no proof of it but it’s irrelevant.

His name is Steve Rogers and if he’s in danger, Bucky Barnes is there.

That’s just the way things work.

“You don’t have to come,” Steve says, standing in a graveyard.

And he really doesn’t. Steve can do this on his own. He’s happy to do it on his own, if that’s what it takes. But Sam is one of the few people in this new world that he actually likes and he isn’t actually opposed to company.

“I know.” Sam smiles. “When do we start?”

They follow Bucky around the globe for months.

Most nights are spent in different beds, most weeks are spent in at least two different countries. Sometimes there’s a backtrack and sometimes they go to places Steve has never even heard of.

In all the time they spend chasing him, neither of them catch sight of a single hair on Bucky Barnes’ head.

With every dead end and every dropped lead, Sam frowns and glances at him nervously. No matter what this new century thinks of him, Steve isn’t clueless; he knows that Sam is looking for the cracks.

Sam, the good friend that he is, is waiting for Steve to fall apart. To breakdown with grief or frustration or whatever emotion is a normal response to a situation like this one. He’s waiting for anger and tears and despair and he doesn’t quite understand that none of that is coming. None of that will ever come.

Because Sam is a good friend but he’s only ever known Steve Rogers broken. He’s looking for cracks, has been since Steve woke up in the hospital after Project Insight fell and Bucky disappeared, because he doesn’t understand.

The cracks were already there and they’re finally starting to heal.

In the sixth month, Steve wakes up to a draft in his room. The window is open and the curtains billow in the breeze, bringing with it the scent of the sea. There’s no one in his room with him and everything appears untouched save for a scrap of paper taped to his shield.

It looks like it came from the bottom of a receipt and on the back of it are three words.

Go home, it says at the top in thick block letters. The word please is written underneath, smaller, like an afterthought.

The handwriting is both familiar and foreign and Steve smiles quietly to himself, caressing the note gently.

“So we’re just giving up?”

Surprisingly, Sam isn’t upset. He is, instead, bewildered and very, very curious. They’re sitting at a cafe in the airport, passing time until their flight boards. Steve bought the tickets before Sam ever opened his eyes that morning and despite what his friend might think, he feels happy with this decision.

It’s hard to explain why he’s smiling, so he hides it behind his coffee cup.

“It’s not giving up,” he says truthfully. “Bucky asked us to go.”

Sam tilts his head, considering Steve with appraising eyes.

“It’s just not what I expected from you,” he says after a moment. “You’ve been acting very til the ends of the earth, if you know what I mean. Didn’t think you’d let him call the shots.”

Steve snorts.

Bucky’s been calling the shots for as long as Steve’s needed him to.

They land in Washington, D.C. at night. The airport is still buzzing with activity but it’s quieter, different than it was the morning they left. Nobody glances at them twice as they loiter around baggage claim for their luggage and Steve is grateful; he’s too tired to put on his Captain America smile.

Just as the conveyor belt starts filling with new luggage, his phone buzzes in his pocket. Fishing it out, he sees a text from an unknown number.

Thank you.

Warmth starts in his chest and spreads outwards, relaxing him just a little. He still feels tension throbbing inside of him, a cord that’s been stretching since 1945, but in that moment, it isn’t so unbearable.

Steve doesn’t bother replying - Bucky probably tossed the burner phone as soon as he pressed send - but he doesn’t delete the text message, either. Instead, he saves it to his phone, where he can look at it any time he needs.

“What is it?” Sam asks, making Steve look away from the words. He realizes he’s been staring at his phone for several minutes now; Sam’s already gotten their bags.

“Nothing,” Steve says with a smile. He pockets his phone again. “Just happy to be home.”

Life settles into a routine again. He and Sam run in the mornings, have breakfast in a cafe somewhere between Sam’s apartment and his. When the Avengers need him, which isn’t often, he helps out and when the remnants of SHIELD need him, which is more often, he helps them, too.

Natasha would be proud of how well he’s taking to the ways of her trade. He and Sam are soldiers first, good in a fight, but they learn the art of blending in; moving through a crowd without anyone ever remembering they were there. It’s new, this tactic. A freshly-bought pair of shoes that he hasn’t broken in yet but once he does, he has no doubt of the comfort they’ll provide.

It definitely makes their jobs easier, at any rate.

There’s not a lot of big battles for Captain America anymore but there are more covert operations. Steve spends most of his time after coming back helping ex-SHIELD agents move through the city without being caught. There’s one last base in DC but its stretched too thin as is with half its agents gone and the other half focused on rebuilding. Besides, not everyone wants to stay with the organization that housed HYDRA for so many years.

So Steve does what he can. He sets up new safehouses, stashes money and weaponry all around the city, sets up a network of help for anyone who needs it.

It isn’t just their own government hunting down SHIELD and no matter what he thought when it still stood, he won’t leave these people to fend for themselves. Not when it’s partially his fault that they’re on the run at all.

He tells a SHIELD agent this when she asks and her eyes widen.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she says and then blushes, like she just remembered who she was talking to. “You’re the reason we’re alive at all, Captain. A lot more people would be dead if it weren’t for you.”

It’s the Captain rather than the reassurance that Steve focuses on. His smile, when it comes, feels brittle. He doesn’t bother responding and instead, hands her a slip of paper.

“Only stay there for a night,” he says. “Burn the paper when you’ve memorized the address. Make sure to dye your hair and put on different clothes.”

She nods and then takes him by surprise, hugging him fiercely for just a moment before pulling back. Her face is an even darker shade of red but she ignores her own embarrassment, straightening her spine and squaring her shoulders. When she meets his gaze again, she is every bit the SHIELD agent instead of the scared civilian that had been in her place moments before.

“Thank you,” she says. “For everything.”

Steve shakes his head. “No need for thanks,” he tells her. It feels mechanical, wrong, when he puts a hand on her shoulder. He’s still not used to touching people or having them touch him. “You’ll be fine, Agent. Just keep moving.”

She smiles at him and then disappears into the crowd.

A month after they abandon the search for Bucky, the gifts start arriving. Trinkets from France, Germany, Italy, Russia. There’s at least one every month and always from a place they know has been hit by the Winter Soldier.

“This is weird, you know that, right?” Sam says one morning. He turns the tiny Eiffel Tower over in his hands as Steve flips through a brochure for the Louvre. “He’s not even trying to hide the fact that those hits are him.”

Steve shrugs. “Why should he? He’s hunting down HYDRA, same as the rest of us.”

He plucks the Tower from Sam’s hands, placing it and the brochure on a shelf with previous ones. Bucky’s gifts hold a place of honor in Steve’s home, proudly displayed in the living room where Steve can see them any time he wants to. Sam doesn’t know it but the scrap of receipt holding Bucky’s first note is tucked under the music box from Russia. When he’s alone, Steve pulls it out sometimes just to look at it; just to see that handwriting again.

“Steve,” Sam says. “He’s a mentally fragile assassin that just spent the last seventy years being tortured, brainwashed, and forced to kill for a scary secret cult. He needs time to heal, not more death.”

Sighing, Steve turns to face his friend. “Did you ever think that maybe it’s helping him heal?” He asks.

“Yes, I have, actually.” Sam shakes his head. “But that’s not a healthy coping mechanism.”

Steve shrugs. “Lotta things in this world aren’t healthy, Sam,” he says. “Doesn’t mean people stop doing them.”

Bucky’s fifth gift and the first for that month - three months after Steve came home - is an expensive set of drawing pencils and three sketchbooks. It’s also the first gift to include a note.

I remembered this, it says. No signature.

Trembling fingers run lightly first over the note and then the gifts themselves. Steve lets a harsh breath, his eyes burning and his chest aching. He’s glad that he’s alone for this gift, that no one is there to see him shaking apart like this.

He opens the pencils slowly, reverently, and when he holds one in his hand, he feels a little more tension leak out of him. The rest of the day is spent ignoring the world in favor of drawing. His first few pictures are shaky, both from his own emotion and his unpracticed hand, but the more time he spends buried in his sketchbook - his sketchbook - the smoother things become.

His hand is cramping by the time the sun sets and his latest drawing has tear stains ruining his perfect lines and he feels, for the first time since 1945, like Steven Grant Rogers.

“I didn’t know you were an artist,” Sam says when he sees the art littering Steve’s living room.

Steve snorts. “Just another thing the history books left out,” he replies, bitter.

That pitying expression is back on Sam’s face and Steve decides to ignore it in favor of getting the lines of Bucky’s face just right.

The gifts continue to come and Steve’s shelf becomes an entire bookcase of trinkets. The Avengers are called on to save the world from an artificial intelligence named Ultron. They barely make it out alive but somehow, they all do make it.

Natasha watches him closely after the battle. They’re all undressing in Stark’s version of a team locker room, unconcerned with things like nudity when they’re all too busy minding cuts and bruises.

“What is it?” Steve asks her when he’s tired of the stares.

“You’re different,” she says. Her mouth softens into her version of a smile. “You don’t try to make the sacrifice play anymore.”

She doesn’t ask, so he doesn’t tell her that he finally has something to live for again. He suspects she already knows, anyways.

It’s been almost a month since the last trinket when one of their safe houses is compromised. He and Sam arrive on the scene too late but miraculously, no one is dead. The two ex-agents that were staying there are sitting on the porch, wide-eyed and shaking. Sam kneels down in front of them with kind eyes and a soothing voice. Steve goes inside to check out the house.

Broken furniture litters multiple rooms, one of the beds is upended, the toilet in the guest bathroom is split in two. One hell of a fight took place and it seemed to span the entire house. In the living room, there are bodies piled one on top of the other; unconscious not dead. The only thing surprising about this is that not all of them are part of the strike team that hit the house.

“He was here,” Sam says from behind him. He comes to stand shoulder to shoulder with Steve, staring down at the bodies. “The agents said he’s the only reason they’re still alive.”

Steve smirks at him. “Still think it’s an unhealthy coping mechanism?”

“Yes.” When Steve looks at him, Sam holds up his hands. “Hey, man, I’m the first to admit that I’m grateful. But this still isn’t healthy.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve gestures at the two plain-clothed people. “Did they say where these two came from?”

“Yeah, Barnes left ‘em.” He gives Steve an unimpressed look. “Said something about it being a present.”

Oh.

Steve smiles, looking away from Sam’s piercing gaze. His trinkets are getting bigger.

It takes a few hours to get the HYDRA operatives secured in the DC base and to elicit a promise for whatever information is gleaned from them. He doesn’t know if he trusts the agent who does the promising but Steve will come back if he needs to. At least two of the prisoners were specifically meant for him, anyways.

When he gets home, Steve finds a pile of crushed metal and wiring piled onto his coffee table. It takes him a moment to realize what they are but when he does, he smiles; they’re bugs from all around his apartment.

Next to them is a note that reads: out with the old.

The words are very specific. Bucky doesn’t do anything uncalculated and Steve is sure that’s truer now than it was during the war. He begins to search the apartment but doesn’t have to get very far before he’s proved right. On the bottom of the Eiffel Tower statue, there’s a listening device.

And where there’s one, there’s dozens.

Steve puts the statue back without removing the bug and relaxes a tiny, tiny bit more.

“In with the new,” he says quietly, warmed by the thought that Bucky will hear him.

#moodymelanist #greenberg replies #my fics #the blood in my veins

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midnightfire830 · 7 months

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Blog Boundaries

So. It’s come to my attention that I need to set down some ground rules and boundaries. I’ve noticed some, uh, behavior for lack of a better term that just doesn’t sit right with me. So I’m going to lay out my boundaries for my blog and as an artists. I’ll put what I’m ok with and what I’m not ok with so this can kinda be a reference guide for my blog.

This may be a bit harsh and I’m sorry. Those who have gone across those boundaries BEFORE I made this post are ok as long as you start to follow the ground rules from here on.

I am ok with:

- People drawing my AUs and characters as long as you either @ me or mention that it belongs to me. (Hell, I’ll even reblog and help support ur drawings)

- Asks about my AUs and characters in general are ok. From questions about how an AU works/aspects, questions directed to my characters, or even if you wanna give something to the characters (I’ve seen that done in some blogs and as of now I don’t mind that, just pls don’t go overboard, thanks)

- I don’t think I mind inputting your OCs if your doing drawings of my AUs or characters. Just don’t expect me to make it canon or draw it into canon. (This one is iffy I might take this off if it goes overboard)

- Clarification in the comments section. If there was an ask that didn’t fully explain something or you wanted to clear something up then by all means go to the comments I don’t mind. Or put in another ask. That’s another way to do it.

- I also don’t think I mind people putting in requested ideas in asks for now. Tho there’s a chance I won’t do it if I’m not too motivated by the request. (Again this rule may change depending on how it goes from here on)

Things I am NOT ok with:

- Asking me or pressuring me to draw your AUs, characters, or OCs. This has come up a few times but I want to officially put it on record that if you ask me to, I will say no. Even for asks. Any kinds of other OCs or AUs I draw would only be for my close friends.

- Spamming me with the same asks. If you sent in an ask and I didn’t response don’t send in the same ask again. (That includes reiterating the same ask) I can see all interactions with my blog and posts. I see your asks, replies, comments, reblogs, and likes. If I do not respond to your ask it is for a good reason. Sometimes I’m trying to answer other asks, I’m drawing up a response (that takes time), I’m holding on to it for a later date, I’m lacking motivation on answering or I just don’t want to. Pressuring me to answer your ask Doesn’t. Help. Just because you put in an ask doesn’t always mean you’rs entitled to an answer.

- Being aggressive or pushy with asks. I’m ok with playful aggression targeted towards characters (say for example someone expressing they hate Dice from Royalty) that’s ok. But there’s a line. And some have started to toe that line. Please tone it down a bit.

- Please don’t include me in any kinds of drama. Both internet and off. This includes political topics, wars, events, gossip, etc. I seriously don’t want anything to do with it. The purpose of this blog is to share my AUs and ideas and support other artists. Not for internet drama. If you’re gonna tag me it should be about art, AUs, and fandom related. I’m not gonna waste my energy, time, or stress on other stuff like that.

- And ig in terms of topics I want to avoid things like: NSFW, incest, p*dophilia, r*pe, permanent disfiguration (like chopping off limbs stuff outside of I guess whatever I have built into the lore of my AUs), outright physical torture or major character death. (The usual things)

Warning: if you cross one of these boundaries I will give you a few warnings. If you continue to cross boundaries I will block you.

I’m sorry to be harsh about this but I really have to put my foot down on this. I can’t tolerate people who won’t respect my boundaries.

This post might be subject to change and updated as time goes and as I interact more with viewers/readers. If you are wondering if something you’re doing might be crossing a boundary, you can use this post as a reference. I’ll pin it to my blog so anyone can find it.

If you are still not sure or want clarification, or you have a specific circumstance in mind, you can jump down to the comments section of this post, send me an ask, or even go to my DMs (if you want to ask privately). I will more than likely see your question and I’ll try my best to answer as soon as possible. It might take a bit depending on if I’m busy IRL. So please be patient.

Anyway, thank you guys for taking the time to read this and respecting my boundaries. Your support with my blog and art so far is greatly appreciated im excited to continue to interact with y’all going forward! (stars I sound like I’m writing a business email XP)

Also, I apologize if it might come off as harsh or passive aggressive, I’m a little bit steamed at the moment and I’m trying to make this as neutral as possible! 😅

Thanks again,

Midnight/Sanity

Last updated: 11/01/23

Also bc this post was helpful, this link will take you to the AU guide I had pinned previously

#my boundaries #blog #blog boundaries #boundaries #just some ground rules #don’t worry #no one is in trouble #and I’m not starting a witch hunt #just wanna put it on the record #you guys have been amazing so far #thanks to those who have been vouching for me #i appreciate you #❤️

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ladyfogg · 2 years

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Words of Advice - Part 2

Words of Advice – Part 2 (Finale)

Fic Summary: Months after being so spectacularly rejected by Lauren, Ralph finds his interests being drawn to the pretty new maid. Having no idea how to approach you, and not wanting to repeat mistakes of the past, he seeks advice from everyone and anyone who’ll provide it, which is probably not the wisest decision. (Part 1) Fics Masterpost.

Fic Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI)

Pairing: Virgin Ralph/Female Reader

Warnings: Canon Divergent, It’s Not Unrequited Love They’re Just Idiots, Mutual Pining, Attempts at Flirting, First Time, Slow Build, Eventual Smut, Unprotected Sex

A/N: Thank you, thank you so much for all your wonderful comments!! Every reblog and reply made me smile like crazy. I loved writing these two. I also appreciate all the kind words on my post about taking time off. I still am, I just wanted to post this while I was in a good mood. Enjoy!

Ralph plans well into the evening.

The next morning, he awakens refreshed and ready to meet the day’s tasks. He knows Victoria will be busying herself with the party arrangements and the quartet will be practicing, so he’s sure he can move around relatively ignored.

It’s a highly developed skill of his.

The one snag in his plan is dinner preparations. You, along with the rest of the staff, are no doubt going to be moving between the kitchen and ballroom today. And Friday, you’ll be in the kitchen all day.

Ralph doesn’t want to be underfoot nor does he want you to see what he’s cooking for your date. He decides he’s going to slip into the kitchen later that evening once you’ve retired to your quarters. That way he can prepare everything in advance so when Friday comes, it’ll only need to be cooked. The timing will be tricky but he’s confident that he can handle it. There should be plenty of time to make a quick appearance at the party to be polite before he must hurry off.

Today he plans to make his bedroom guest ready. He’s never had a guest in his room and while he chose the location for discretion’s sake, he wonders if it may be too forward. He did not consider the implications until he was fast asleep, at which point he bolted upright with a wave of horror.

Aside from dining and polite conversation, he does not anticipate things progressing any further. He worries he might have given you the wrong idea. Then again, you had readily accepted with zero hesitation. Which means, if you did think Ralph was insinuating anything, you did not seem to mind.

If he dwells too much on that fact, his palms start to get sweaty. He tells himself you were most likely too polite to question him at that moment.

Being alone in his room with a woman, a beautiful woman who he’s absolutely over the moon for, makes Ralph nervous. If things were to progress like that, he has no idea how he’ll react or what he’s supposed to do. Is he ready for such a step? He’s well aware it is expected that one must wait until marriage. However, he’s not naïve enough to think anyone follows such a social rule. He’s been to enough parties to know better.

Ralph himself has not had the opportunity, nor desire really. He assumed he would once the right woman came along.

His thoughts drift to you, how close you stood when you fixed his shirt, how your hands almost brushed his neck while fixing his collar. He still thinks of the first time he shook your hand and those damn gloves that prevented him from feeling your palm on his. Should you wish to…proceed further Friday evening, he is becoming less sure that he’ll decline.

Ralph’s thoughts are spiraling and all his self-doubt starts to bubble to the surface. He takes a few deep breaths to push it down.

After the trouble he went through simply talking to you, he decides to figure it out when the time comes. There’s no way he’s going to ask for more advice considering how it led him astray before. Besides, the chances of any kind of seduction happening are fairly slim.

Truth be told, if he hadn’t already given you the invitation he might have given into anxiety completely and scrapped the entire idea. Maybe even started over from scratch. But it’s too late for that. He’s made a plan and he’s going to stick with it.

Ralph’s room is fairly large, with a sitting area that’s reserved for quiet contemplation and tea. The table is much too small for the dinner he has planned. So, when everyone is busy, he careful takes it out of his room and swaps it for the larger one in the downstairs sitting room. It’s cumbersome and a struggle to do on his own. However, he manages well enough.

Once he has it situated by the balcony doors, he opens them to see how the table looks framed. It’s good but now the chairs don’t match at all and he can’t have that.

Little by little, Ralph sneaks around the manor, carefully replacing bits and pieces from his room. The chairs are changed and the vase in the hall looks smashing on his dresser and the tablecloth is not fancy enough for what he has planned, and…the list goes on and on. By the time he’s fully satisfied with the setup, hours have passed and his room is certainly more upscale than it has been.

Ralph checks the time, realizing he needs to hurry if he’s going to get to the florist before they close. He slips his jacket and hat on but when he opens the door to his room to leave, he jumps and shouts as his sister stands there, hands on her hips.

“Ralphie, what are you up to?” she asks, eyeing him with suspicion just as she had when he and you first met.

“What? Nothing!” he declares, blocking her view into his room. “I’ve decided to go out for a stroll. It’s a lovely day and I’ve been cooped up inside for most of it.”

“Not to mention sneaking around the house swapping out furniture. What in blazes are you doing?”

“Some redecorating.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to.”

Victoria pokes him in the chest with her finger. “Ralph, you are hiding something. I can tell. I’m your twin. You know I can always tell when you’re lying.”

Ralph gasps with mock outrage. “Dear, sister. I would never—”

She pushes past him into the room, eyes widening at the massive changes. The moment she sees the setup, she spins around. Before he can react, she grabs his ear and twists it like she used to do when they were children. “Ralph, you tell me right now what you are planning!” she exclaims as he tries to swat her away.

“Alright, fine!” Ralph wrenches himself out of her grasp, adjusting his hat and rubbing his ear. “If you must know, I have a date on Friday.”

“A date?” she repeats, raising her eyebrow. “With whom?” Her eyes widen and she actually looks amused when she hits his arm. “Ralphie! Did you go behind my back and actually ask out our new maid? I’m surprised at you and a little impressed.”

Ralph blinks for a moment, stunned at what he’s hearing. “You’re not angry?”

Victoria waves a dismissive hand. “Of course I’m not. I have far too much on my plate to worry about you sneaking around with the help. Although…” She takes in the fancy set up and gives him a knowing smile. “I take it you have much more planned than laying down with her.”

Ralph sputters. “Victoria! I…it’s only a dinner date. There will be no laying down or…or anything of the sort.”

“Well, why not?! Lord knows you need it.”

“Sister, the things you say!”

“What? You know I’m right! Ralphie…” she takes his hands and forces him to look her in the eye. “I say this because you’re my brother and I love you. Please, please, do yourself a favor, and lay with that woman. It’ll do you a world of good.”

“I am…thoroughly confused. You said the other day there is to be no fraternizing with the staff.”

“It’s fine. That rule is mostly for Jason because he goes through them like underclothes. Besides, we have a full staff again so once you grow bored with her we can always hire another maid.”

Ralph does not appreciate his sister’s blasé statement or the assumption that this is a passing fling. While he admits his prior infatuation with Lauren doesn’t exactly disprove her thoughts, he finds it prudent to explain himself further.

“Victoria, this isn’t what you think,” he insists, following as she wanders the room and starts to touch and move things. He moves them back to where he wants them. “This isn’t some passing fancy. What I feel for her is unlike anything I have ever felt before. Sister—” He takes her shoulders and forces her to face him proper. “I plan to court her, officially.”

Victoria laughs. “Oh, Ralph, sometimes you have the most wicked sense of humor.” Ralph doesn’t laugh. His face remains earnest. “Wait…you’re serious? You actually plan on courting her?”

“Yes. I’ve already made my intentions known.”

“Oh.” Victoria sinks onto one of the chairs, ruffling the tablecloth as she does. Ralph fidgets before hurriedly fixing it back into place. “Well, then. This is certainly an interesting situation. You do realize that father might have something to say considering her social status.”

Ralph shrugs. “That doesn’t matter to me. It’s the ‘20s! I like to think we’re moving beyond social status. And if it matters to father, well, that’ll be his problem.”

Victoria’s eyebrows shoot up at his remark. “I’ve never heard you speak up against father in our entire life.”

“I think we both know he’s more interested in who you marry rather than who I marry. Besides, I was given some advice recently that I should slow things down and I am trying to do just that. Yes, it is a dinner date and yes, I will be formally courting her. But that is all I am focusing on at the moment.” He checks his pocket watch and swears. “Blast. Sister, I really must cut this short. I have flowers to pick up.”

Victoria raises her hands and gets to her feet. “Don’t let me stop you.” Together, they leave Ralph’s room but before they part in the hall, she touches his hand. “Ralphie…I’m proud of you.”

Ralph doesn’t think he’s ever heard his sister say she was proud of him before. She doesn’t wait for a response, only plasters on that enormous smile and goes back to her business. He wants to dwell and question, but really must get the flowers.

He manages to get to the florist in the nick of time. After another quick stop, he has everything he needs for a proper date. Arms full of roses, Ralph happily makes his way home. However, once he does, he finds it difficult to open the front door while balancing the flowers. He ends up having to ring the bell with his elbow. A second later the door opens and when Ralph sees it’s you he gasps.

“Close your eyes!” he exclaims.

You jump and immediately do as you’re told. “Why? What’s wrong?!”

“Nothing, I just don’t want you to see the flowers yet. They aren’t ready.”

Smiling, and still covering your eyes, you carefully back away, giving Ralph space to come into the house. There’s a lot of fumbling and apologies. He scoots around you, narrowly avoiding hitting you with the bouquets.

While he does, Ralph keeps his focus on you to make sure you’re not peeking. “I’m going to run upstairs. Don’t look until I tell you it’s clear.”

“Alright, Ralph, I won’t.”

“You promise?”

“Yes, I promise!”

Ralph stumbles a bit on the stairs but manages to climb them quickly. He keeps glancing over his shoulder but true to your words, you keep your eyes closed. Once Ralph gets to the top, he shouts down, “All clear!” Then bolts to his room.

He hurriedly puts the flowers down on the dresser. Glancing in the mirror, he adjusts his clothes to make sure he’s presentable. Seeing you has him desperate for conversation and he wants to catch you before you return to your duties. He’ll organize the flowers later.

In the sitting room, you’re starting a fire in the fireplace to ward off the chill of the evening. Ralph stands silently in the doorway, watching, entranced by the glow that graces your features. Victoria may be wondering about different social statuses, yet that’s the furthest thing from his mind. When he sees you, he doesn’t think of anything else, only how he might get you to smile at him again.

“I haven’t seen much of you today,” you say without needing to look. It’s like you’re aware of his presence, even though he hasn’t made a sound.

“I’ve been very busy.” When you stand, he excitedly rushes to your side. “I have so much planned for tomorrow. I cannot wait!”

You turn to face him, giving him a wide smile. “I also can’t wait. I’ve been driving myself crazy thinking about it all day!”

Ralph rarely has someone other than his sister sharing in his excitement, so to have this response from you has him vibrating. “Part of me wants to tell you everything and another part wants it to be a complete surprise,” he says. He grabs your hands, squeezing them tight. “Do you want me to tell you? Because I will if you really want to know!”

“Oh no. Um…oh dear, the temptation is strong, but, no, don’t tell me!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I like surprises.” You glance down and it’s then that Ralph realizes what he’s done.

He’s touching your hands and this time you’re not wearing gloves. It’s like a wave of liquid magma rushes through his body, turning his cheeks bright red.

“Forgive me, I forget myself sometimes,” he says, reluctantly releasing you. He can still feel your warmth and his fingers flex involuntarily.

“I’m not complaining.”

There’s a lump in Ralph’s throat and he has to swallow past it before he can speak again. “While I have you alone, there’s something I wish to say. I did not realize what inviting you to my room for dinner might insinuate. Please know, I have no inappropriate thoughts or ulterior motives.”

You study him for a moment, still smiling, though there’s something else in your gaze that he can’t place. Your pupils have gone wide and he sees your lips part as you exhale slowly. You reach out to adjust his bowtie, though he had already fixed it before coming down to see you. It’s the blue one. He’s been wearing it since you told him you favored it.

“I understand,” you say, a lilt to your voice that does things to him. “But what if I do?”

Ralph’s mind goes blank. Unable to think or respond, he stands there with wide eyes, staring at you, unblinking. He couldn’t possibly have heard what he thought he heard.

“Beg your pardon?” he asks, his voice squeaking.

Before you can respond, Ralph hears the voices of the quartet coming this way. You hear them too. You give Ralph a smoldering look and brush past him to continue your duties. As you do, your fingers tweak the buttons of his coat, as you lean in to speak into his ear.

“I am most curious as to what you have planned for after dinner. And if you haven’t, I’m sure I can think of something to do.”

With that, you walk out of the room, leaving Ralph standing there speechless. Glancing down, he realizes your words and flirting has had a rather inconvenient side effect. He quickly swipes his hat off and covers himself a second before the quartet come in.

“Hey, Ralph,” Horace says, being the only one to acknowledge him, per usual. “We’re about to have a drink and a game. Join us.”

“Thank you, but I must…be somewhere else.” He can barely get the words out before he shuffles out of the room.

But by now, you’re nowhere to be seen, which means he can’t ask if you were teasing or not. Ralph hurries up to his room instead. Once inside, he takes a few deep breaths and throws open the balcony doors. The cool night air feels wonderful on his overheated skin, yet isn’t enough to chase away the heat. He fans himself.

“Alright, it’s going to be alright. There is a distinct possibility something sexual might happen. But just focus on the dinner. That’s the most important bit. Do not think of her wonderful hands and how good they felt…oh lord, give me strength.”

Ralph is thoroughly aroused and is trying everything to ignore it. He refuses to service himself to thoughts of you. If he does, he’ll never be able to look you in the eye ever again.

He turns back to the bedroom and that’s when he remembers the haphazard way he put the flowers down. Perfect. A task to take his mind off things.

Ralph goes about setting the flowers in the correct locations throughout the room, shifting and adjusting things as he does. Yet, despite the distraction, his arousal persists. Even when he tries to think of disgusting or deplorable things, nothing.

His bedroom is as ready as it’ll ever be and as the hour turns late, he decides to go to sleep early. Tomorrow is a big day and hopefully resting will make his erection finally fade.

Ralph changes into his nightclothes, purposefully avoiding his situation, which is difficult to do when the lack of trousers provides momentary relief. He closes the balcony doors, turns off the lights, and climbs into bed.

Now. Sleep, he orders himself. Stop dwelling.

Easier said than done. Ralph soon realizes his mistake. Being in bed, in the dark, only makes him think of you more. The firelight danced in your eyes when you leaned in, and the memory of your breath on his ear makes him shiver.

No matter how long he tosses and turns, his erection doesn’t fade and he only hopes it's this persistent when you two become…intimate.

Sighing in defeat, Ralph rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. His body certainly seems ready. And you made it abundantly clear you’re physically interested. Perhaps that’s why it’s difficult to ignore. Because now there is an actual person to think about, a woman who is attracted to him and is not afraid to say.

Does that mean you have experience? Are you expecting him to have some as well? He finds he does not mind the thought of you having known a man that way before. At least one of you knows what to do.

Of course, this brings a series of new anxieties. What if things do progress and he disappoints you? What if he can’t keep up? What if…?

That line of thought finally kills his arousal. Ralph’s read books and heard his fair share of stories to know the basics. However, there is a difference between theory and practice.

He falls into a restless sleep.

In the morning, he awakens to the smell of roses. His dreams had been filled with naughty images of you, conjured from the depths of his imagination. An imagination he thinks he may be putting to the test very soon. Glancing at the time, he’s bright and early. It suddenly dawns on him that in his distracted state the previous evening, he didn’t prep dinner!

Ralph bolts out of bed and practically throws himself into his closet, dressing in the first suit he can find. He is not going to let anything ruin his date. Yes, he is now going to be behind schedule but if he’s quick, he should be able to make up the time.

In the kitchen, Ralph finds he’s earlier than those who need to prepare breakfast. This is actually something he’s done a number of times. Some mornings, before everyone is awake, he’ll sneak to the kitchens and make bread or pie. Kneading dough always has a calming effect and helps him focus. Today is no different.

The recipes he plans to make are fairly simple but delicious. A small roast which he had chef gather from the market is seasoned and set aside for later. Then he gets to work on bread rolls. Those combined with the roast and fresh vegetables would be a perfectly wonderful dinner. He’d planned to make pastries but time is not on his side. So he settles for delicate finger cakes.

He works, quietly humming to himself as he does. The nerves and anxiety from the night before are a distant memory and when he’s finished prepping, and baking his cakes, he stashes the food away for later. He’s finishing up cleaning when the servants enter to begin their work.

You are not among them, surprisingly. Ralph doesn’t think much of it, though he is disappointed he doesn’t have a chance to see you.

The day goes on and despite the hiccup, Ralph is back on schedule. His suit is pressed and already laid out on his bed and his shoes have been polished. After finishing a few of the smaller details, he knows he must turn his attention to his sister’s party. Technically, he is also meant to host so he must not shirk his responsibilities. He takes his time bathing and shaving, then longer trying to style his hair just right.

When he’s ready, he seeks out Victoria to see what last minute preparations she may need his help with.

He cannot find her anywhere.

In the ballroom, the quartet are already on stage, having been practicing since the morning. He glances around, however, sees no sign of his sister. Or you, for that matter.

“Hey, Ralph! Looking sharp!” Horace says with a knowing smile.

“Thank you. Have any of you seen my sister?”

“Yeah, she went out shopping this morning,” Jason says. “Hasn’t come back yet.”

Ralph frowns. “That’s unlike her to leave the house when party preparations are still underway. What could she possibly be shopping for?”

Jason shrugs. “Dunno, bruv. Must have been planning to get a lot cuz she took that maid with her.”

“What maid?” Ralph asks, stepping into Jason’s space.

“Whoa, back up, man. The new one.”

His sister took you with her? Why would she do that?

As if on cue, Victoria glides into the room and greets them all with her brilliant smile. “Hello, my lovely friends. Who’s ready to get properly fucked up tonight?!”

The quartet cheers, but Ralph does not. He hurries over to his sister, grabbing her arm to pull her to the side.

“Ralph, be careful!”

“Victoria, what did you do? Jason said you took my date out shopping. Why—?”

Victoria jams her finger against his lips. “Hush, Ralphie! You needn’t worry. I didn’t do anything to your precious date. I simply knew what clothing she brought with her was not sufficient enough for a private dinner for two so I made sure she had something appropriate to wear tonight.”

“If this was some sneaky attempt to scare her off—”

“It wasn’t! I swear, I only took her shopping for a new dress. I would not sabotage the first chance you’ve ever had at a proper shag.”

Despite her crudeness, Ralph’s expression softens and he places a hand over his heart. “Aww, Victoria! You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did!” she huffs, adjusting his jacket. “You are my baby brother and this is your first date. It should be perfect. Speaking of, the chef agreed to hang back and cook what you’ve prepared so you don’t need to rush. Just relax and enjoy the evening, wherever it may lead.”

If Ralph isn’t careful, he’s going to become emotional. Oh, who is he kidding? He already is. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Seriously. Do not tell anyone how generous I am. I’ll have to beat them off with a stick.”

With everything set and ready to go, there isn’t anything for him to do other than wait. Impatiently.

Time progresses. Afternoon turns to evening, and Victoria’s party gets underway. Ralph stays and mingles but his eyes are on his pocket watch, closely monitoring the time. At exactly eight forty-five, he downs his one glass of champagne he’s been nursing and ducks out of the ballroom.

Chef is loading the steaming meal onto a serving cart, quick to cover the plates to prevent them from cooling too quickly. The cakes Ralph made have been properly decorated with delicate frosting. Ralph takes the cart with a thank you and pushes it himself to the service elevator.

Once in his room, he sets the table, adjusts the lighting, and tries to still his racing heart. It’s here. After nearly two days of planning, Ralph is as ready as he’ll ever be.

At nine o’clock precisely, there is a knock on the door. He finishes lighting the candles in the center of the table and prepared himself to greet you.

Ralph inhales sharply. “This is what you’ve been waiting for. Woo her as if she’s never been wooed before! But also try to relax and not throw yourself instantly at her feet.”

Clearing his throat, he walks to the door and opens it.

You’re standing there, smiling shyly, and looking absolutely stunning. The dress Victoria picked out knocks the breath from Ralph’s lungs. The color and style do everything to highlight your features, skin tone, and body shape. And the plunging neckline has Ralph’s eyes wandering until he catches himself.

“Good evening,” he says with a wide smile. “You’re right on time.”

“I had to stop myself from being early.”

Ralph steps aside and extends his hand. “Please, come in.”

Just like the day you met, you slip past Ralph and he inhales the perfume that wafts by as you do. After closing the door, he offers you his arm, which you take with a laugh. Even though the table is only steps away, Ralph will not forget his manners.

He holds your chair out and once you sit, he hurriedly takes the seat across from you.

“Ralph, this is all so beautiful,” you say, looking around the room.

Of course, you notice the changes. They’re hard to miss. Proud of his work, he smiles brightly. “Thank you. But all this pales in comparison to you. You look absolutely stunning.”

You duck your head, looking down at your new dress. “Thank you. I was trying to decide what to wear when Miss Victoria burst into my room and dragged me to the stores.”

“Well, I think you look beautiful in everything,” Ralph says earnestly. “Was my sister too forward? She can be that way sometimes.”

You laugh. “Oh, I picked up on that quickly. It was actually a very sweet gesture. Truth be told, I wasn’t sure what she would think of us.”

Us.

Ralph has to stop himself from melting in his seat. Hearing you refer to the two of you as “us” sets his heart aflame. “I hope you are aware that the discretion that was required for today has to do with protecting your honor and job more than anything else. Victoria implemented a no fraternizing with the help rule.”

Your smile widens and you raise your eyebrow. Leaning on the table, you prop your chin in your hand. “Are you breaking the rules for me, Ralph?”

Oh, lord, is he in trouble if you keep looking at him like that.

“Well, I was but then Victoria found out anyway,” he says, trying not to let on how flustered he is. “And by then, I had already given you the invitation and made all the arrangements so I wasn’t going to throw away my hard work.”

Laughing, you sit back in your chair. “I’m glad you didn’t. This is honestly the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me. And you look so dashing in that suit. You wear it well.”

Is he imagining it, or is there hunger in your eyes? Probably imagining it. Or you’re famished.

Suddenly remembering the meal, Ralph quickly takes the covers off your plates and gestures with a flourish. “Dinner is served.”

“This looks delicious.”

“Now, I must confess, Chef cooked the food but I prepared it,” he says, laying his napkin across his lap. “My intention was to cook the entire meal. I hope you do not think less of me.”

“I could never think less of you.”

Ralph’s face flushes at the compliment and he can’t help feeling pleased with himself. “The rolls are my personal recipe,” he boasts, not picking up his fork. He’s too busy watching you and waiting for you to take the first bite. “Normally, I would make pastries but unfortunately time was not on my side.”

“Maybe you can teach me how to make pastries for breakfast some morning.”

Ralph’s smile is so wide it’s hurting his cheeks. “It would be my pleasure.”

Your eyes light up when the fork slides into your mouth. Ralph tries to ignore the visual of your lips pressed together as you make a noise of delight. “Delicious.”

“Oh, good!” Ralph explains breathlessly, the tension leaving his shoulders.

As you two eat, music from the party drifts up through the balcony. The conversation and wine flows and Ralph wonders why he was so nervous in the first place. Your easy smile and interest in what he’s saying is evident by your earnest expression.

He is so used to people ignoring his ramblings or interrupting that he doesn’t know what to do when you don’t do these things. So he keeps talking, figuring you’ll stop him when you’ve had enough. He does make sure to ask you about yourself to avoid taking over the conversation.

Ralph finds he loves watching you speak just as you seem to enjoy when he does. He watches with rapt attention, unable to look away for even a second.

Dinner is finished and when the music suddenly changes to a slower tune, Ralph takes that as a sign. Standing, he offers his hand.

“May I have this dance?”

You accept with that smile he knows he’ll never get tired of.

Ralph pulls you in, though keeps a respectable distance between you. Your hand in his is warm and he revels in the softness. Being so close is intoxicating. He wants to pull you to his chest but lacks the bravery to do so. The two of you sway to the low music, the atmosphere charged with intimacy.

Unfortunately, he’s finding it difficult to relax all the way. His body tenses when the urge to hold you close grows stronger.

“Are you alright?” you ask, the hand on his shoulder rubbing comfortingly. “You’ve gone a bit stiff…and not in the fun way.”

Your sudden salacious joke takes him by surprise and he lets out something that’s between a nervous laugh and hysterical giggle. You laugh as well, and that tension dissipates.

“I am…conflicted,” he admits.

“About what, darling?”

Uh oh. You’ve called him a term of endearment. Chills go through him and he starts to feel hot under the collar.

“I want to hold you close,” he confesses. “However, I don’t want to seem inappropriate.”

The second he says this, you draw yourself closer to him, your chest pressed to his. “Is this better?” you ask, your voice dipping low.

Ralph can feel your warm breath brush his lips and he swallows thickly. “Y-Yes,” he says with an excited head nod. “Much better.”

The hand he has on your waist slides to rest on your lower back. Ralph’s forehead touches yours and he watches your eyes flutter closed. He follows your lead.

Ralph and you slow dance, lost in your own world. He thinks of nothing else but you. Your hand in his, your bodies touching, mouths so close yet not quite kissing. He wants to close the distance. He wants to kiss you for the first time.

He'd been so sure his nerves would get the best of him, sure he would keep his distance so as not to scare you off as he’s done in the past. Yet, none of that seems to be a problem. He’s gone out of his way to be himself and it’s led to this spectacular moment.

His eyes fly open as your lips touch his.

Ralph halts all movement, standing still from shock as you kiss him. Your arms sliding around his neck jolt him into reacting and his arms tentatively circle your waist. Lips trembling, Ralph kisses you back, closing his eyes once more and surrendering to the sensation.

Heat travels through every nerve in his body. The urge to kiss you harder, to hold you tighter, is strong but he tries to restrain himself, needing to take the time to savor everything about this. His mouth moves with yours and when your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck, his knees practically become jelly.

Your lips part but you keep holding him close. “Was that alright?” you ask.

Ralph nods excitedly. “Yes, that was brilliant.”

“I really like you, Ralph,” you tell him. “And to tell you the truth, I was excited to get your invitation, but also very nervous.”

Ralph can’t imagine you being as nervous as he is. “Why?”

“Well…I’m a maid.”

Ralph doesn’t like the way you avert your gaze when you say that, as if you’re ashamed. He never wants you to feel ashamed of anything. But quickly you smile and meet his eye again.

“But I figured if that bothered you, you wouldn’t have asked. Also, your sister taking the time to take me shopping and get to know me put all that to rest.”

“I don’t care about social status,” Ralph says, tightening his arms to instinctively, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “I only care about you.”

You lean in for another kiss and in his excitement, Ralph kisses back a little too forcefully, making you bend backward. You chuckle at his enthusiasm, which turns into a gasp when Ralph pushes his tongue passed your lips. He’s not expecting to do such a thing but cannot hold back any longer.

At the first brush of your tongue to his, his world explodes. It’s like something inside of him snaps and his kisses become urgent. Suddenly, the hardness of your body to his isn’t enough. He wants to feel your skin, wants to taste your smooth throat, wants to feel your hands on him.

Breaking away to catch his breath, Ralph pants as he stares into your eyes. He says your name, surprised at how low his voice comes out.

“I’ve never…” He pauses. “This is all new for me.”

“We don’t need to do anything you don’t want,” you say. “If you want to just kiss, that’s perfectly wonderful for me. If you want to do more—”

“I want to do more.”

You don’t hesitate to kiss him hungrily. Your hands push his jacket off his shoulders and he hurriedly shrugs out of it. As you pull him towards the bed, he steps out of his shoes, tripping over them in the process. Sitting on the bed, you drag him down to sit with you.

Ralph’s mouth is glued to yours, not wanting to part for even a moment. He feels your fingers work his bowtie free. A second later, the top buttons of his shirt are undone and your hand slides under the fabric. Feeling your fingertips along his collarbone does things to Ralph. He draws away because he has to look down, has to watch you touch him so he knows it’s real.

“I don’t know what to do,” Ralph says, eyes flickering up to yours. “But I want to experience all I can with you.”

“I want to experience you as well, Ralph.”

He cups your face and yanks you into a kiss. You grab his collar, pulling him down on top of you as you lay back. Having your body squirming underneath him awakens some slumbering beast inside. Ralph needs to touch all of you, needs to know what it feels like to have your skin gliding with his.

You undo the buttons of his waistcoat and then the rest of his shirt. He sits up to toss both aside. He had forgone an undershirt, thinking of your moment the other morning, so the moment the fabric is gone, your hands run up his bare chest and Ralph shudders. His face and chest are already flush red and his cock is hard as a rock, straining in his trousers.

There’s no hiding the erection. He’s lying on top of you, knowing you can feel everything. And when you raise your leg to brush the bulge, Ralph whimpers.

He kisses you, his hand tugging at your dress, pulling the hem up so he can slide his hand underneath. His palm finds your thigh and he squeezes in excitement. You move beneath him and he follows through, still kissing as both of you sit up so he can reach around to unzip you from your cloth prison.

The dress goes slack and the top naturally slips off your shoulders, leaving your breasts bare. Gasping for breath, Ralph breaks the kiss to stare shamelessly. His already racing heart feels like it’s hitting his ribcage. Your chest moves with your rapid breathing, nipples pebbled by the coolness of the room.

Cupping them, Ralph gives them a gentle squeeze which makes you inhale sharply.

You lay back and Ralph’s hands glide down your torso, leaving goose pimples in their wake. He takes the sides of your dress, dragging it the rest of the way off your body before he removes your shoes one at a time. You’re left in your underwear with no stockings which seems to scandalous to Ralph. He loves it. Soon even your underwear is discarded.

You sit up to reach for his pants. He kneels on the bed, looking down as you work the buttons free.

In his rush to underdress, he isn’t as graceful as he’d have liked. His leg gets caught in his trousers and underwear and he ends up swearing as he wriggles them down and off. You laugh, assisting where you can. When he manages to free himself, he doesn’t have time to be self-conscious. Besides, you’re already kissing him again, pulling him back down to lay on you.

Nothing could have prepared Ralph for feeling your naked body underneath his. The soft warmth draws him in, makes him excitedly grind himself between your legs.

“Give me your hand,” you say between kisses.

Ralph does and you lead it down, slipping between your bodies. When his fingers come in contact with your folds, he about jumps out of his skin. He has to watch your face, has to study your expression as you teach him how to touch you. He marvels at the petal-like softness, reveling when he feels wetness starting to spread.

“Is that—?”

“Arousal,” you gasp, letting him go. His hand continues, fingers eager in their exploration.

Ralph cannot believe he’s making you feel this way. As you throw your head back, his mouth latches onto your throat, kissing and sucking a wet trail up and down. His fingertips glide through your slit and up until he finds a soft nub. Curiously, he presses it and the reaction is immediate.

You moan loudly and one hand shoots up to grab the pillow under your head. Your body arches into his, so he presses again, moving his fingers in small circles.

Whatever he’s doing seems to be working because your moans are getting louder. His fingers are coated in your slick and his cock is throbbing, seemingly eager to feel the wetness as well. He’s too busy exploring, though. He wants to know what happens if he keeps touching you like this.

Your body freezes in place, your mouth falling open in an O of surprise. Seconds pass before you sink back into the mattress and Ralph draws his hand out.

“I take it that was good,” he says.

You give a breathless chuckle, giving him several drawn out pecks on the lips. “That was very good, Ralph. Not many men even bother to attempt getting a woman off.”

Ralph is right proud of himself. He can’t understand why someone would ignore making a woman react like that. It was absolutely erotic and empowering.

When he feels your hand worming between you, he all but mewls at your palm running along his neglected length. You wrap your fingers around him and start to stroke his throbbing length. He’s never thought about what it would be like to have someone else touching him. He always assumed it would be the same as him doing it himself but how wrong he was.

This is different in the best way. You’re touching him with the intent of making him feel good. You’re trying to focus on his needs and pleasure. He’s too overwhelmed to tell you how much he appreciates it. Instead, moans tumble out, which he imagines gives you the same impression as words would.

You maintaining eye contact with him makes it impossible to catch his breath. He feels like you’re studying him, like you’re trying to commit every expression to memory. He knows he’s trying to do the same to you. His mind reels with the different sexual acts he wants to do with you.

There’s just a small snag in his plan.

“If you keep doing that, this will be over embarrassingly quick,” he pants even as he thrusts into your fist.

You giggle, top teeth digging into your bottom lip. “But I love the face you make when I touch you.”

Ralph whimpers, burying said face into your neck. He says your name, half-begging, half-moaning. You stop stroking but before he can whimper at the loss, you run the tip of him through your folds. Ralph instinctively thrusts forward. He doesn’t realize he's sinking into you until he feels both your hands grabbing his hips. With a gentle tug, you encourage him forward and Ralph thrusts into you in one smooth movement.

Bloody hell.

Bloody fucking hell.

Ralph’s chests hurts and his head spins. Your hand strokes his hair. “Breathe, Ralph,” you say gently.

Ralph exhales, realizing that he is holding his breath. Drawing out, he pauses before surging back in and destroying any semblance of self-control he might have had. He grinds himself into the wet heat that is uniquely yours. Nothing, nothing could have prepared him for the addictive tightness. No book properly describes the clenching and fluttering of your walls around him.

Your mouth finds his and as you wrap your legs around his waist, you moan his name. Hearing it drives him mad, makes him thrust and grind harder, kiss you more.

Ralph feels alive.

He’s always loved and lived freely. But never like this. Deep down, he knows he wouldn’t have felt this way with anyone else. It’s not just the act of sex, it’s the act of making love to you that is driving him completely insane.

His hips move on their own, his body shaking from need and exertion.

Ralph has to look at your face. He has to see the pleasure to know it’s real. Eyes closed, you are completely lost in the sensation and he absolutely adores the unabashed way you surrender yourself to him.

He’s close. It’s not ideal that he cannot last longer this first time. He wishes he could. He wishes he could stay inside you forever.

At the last moment, he draws out. Pulling back, he reaches down to finish himself off with his hand, unable to look away as his release decorates your beautiful folds. It’s like a primal stake of claim. Like he’s marking you as his, which he scolds himself for. You could never belong to anyone, let alone him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice reminds him of that special nub. He presses his thumb to it, quickly glancing up at you as you shout his name. After several hard rubs, you’re coming undone again, louder than before.

Spent and satisfied, Ralph collapses on the bed next to you, struggling to catch his breath. He stares at you with wide eyes, loving the beautiful serene smile that you send his way when you come back to yourself.

“Alright there, darling?” you ask.

Ralph has so many things he wishes to say. They all tumble around in his mind, scrambling to be the first thing out of his mouth. However, what does come out is, “Can we do that again?”

You give a breathless laugh, reaching over to cup his cheek and press his head to yours. “You’re so adorable. Yes, Ralph, we can definitely do that again.”

Excitedly, Ralph rolls over and kisses you. You make a noise of surprise and he slips his tongue into your mouth, tasting greedily. Now that he’s got the hang of it, he’s able to act quicker.

“Didn’t…know you meant…now,” you say between kisses.

Ralph quickly pulls back. “Is it too soon? Bollocks, I knew I was going to mess this up by being over-eager.”

“No, no, it’s wonderful,” you assure him. “I am absolutely ready to keep going. Men tend to need more time to recover.”

Ralph puffs his chest proudly. He grabs your hand, being the one to guide this time as he has you touch him. “You will find I have excellent stamina,” he boasts, watching your eyes widen as he starts to twitch with excitement. He’s not going to tell you his quick bounce back has to do with years of masturbation, figuring it’s more impressive if he doesn’t explain.

You swiftly push him onto his back, straddling his body.

“Be careful, Ralph,” you warn with a wolfish grin. “A girl could fall in love with you if you keep treating her so right.”

“I’ve already got a ring for when you’re ready.”

Laughing, you lean down to capture his lips. He kisses back, cradling the nape of your neck. He knows you think he’s joking so he leaves it at that. You don’t need to know about the quick run to the jeweler’s before he grabbed the roses. And you certainly don’t need to know about the engagement ring that sits in the drawer of his nightstand.

You’ll learn soon enough.

---

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