#I don’t want to get too pithy or anything I just want to be clear and understood when I say things 😔

[blackberry-gingham]

Ok but the TRUE ideal male body type is any man that I can lift heavy as fuck with in the gym in the mornings, and then cuddle for warmth and snuggles with at night

#does that qualify for ‘dad bod’ #I don’t really know anymore #I don’t want to get too pithy or anything I just want to be clear and understood when I say things 😔 #esoteric posting

[jonathanvik]

Starlight Dream - Chapter 52

“And all the players are here!” Kaguya said, arms spread wide. “To witness my rebirth!”

“I see Reiko’s death doesn’t bother you,” Seina replied, mouth in a firm line. “But I suppose she was never a friend.”

“Never,she served our purpose.”

“Tsk, figures.” Takako clicked her tongue. “But what do you get out of this? You realize what your partner is?”

Just thinking about it made Seina’s blood boil. Of course, that blight had returned to haunt her. This creature was responsible for everything she and everyone else had suffered. 

“It matters not.” Mei unsheathed her weapon, its steel glinting starlight from the countless pinpricks of light above. “To obtain what I desire, I’ll sacrifice anything. Kill anyone.”

“Why not work with us, then? We can help you.” Seina said. “No one else needs to die!”

“Empty promises,” Mei replied, tone emotionless. “The Fairy Queen couldn’t help me, and neither can you.”

“Then maybe it wasn’t meant to be, dumbass,” Arisu said, finally speaking. “You gets to a point where you need to accept reality, Mei. What makes you think Kaguya can fulfill your greatest wish?”

For the first time, Mei showed genuine emotion, clenching her teeth behind her metal face mask. “It doesn’t matter. How could you understand what I’ve suffered?” 

“We’ve all suffered! I’ve had a hard life, too.” Seina said. “But you can’t allow your pain to define you.” 

“Diligence wouldn’t have wanted this. She…” But Charity didn’t get a chance to finish.

“Enough.” Mei’s eyes hardened. “Your words are meaningless. You oppose me, and now you must die.”

“There you have it. Seems like Mei wants war. Ready to play, my heroes?” Kaguya stepped back, vanishing into nothingness. 

“Hey!” Seina said. Where was she going?

“Typical Kaguya, letting others do her dirty work,” Arisu said, summoning her staff. She covered her face with a cloth mask. “Fine by me. I’m looking forward to trashing this traitor.”

“Yeah! I don’t care what your reasons are,” Seina said, summoning her staff. “The nightmares stop!”

“You realize we got lucky with Reiko, right?” Emiyo said, sighing. “But never mind. I’m seeing this through.”

“Pain is no excuse,” Himari said. “We all have hardships we must bear. You have no right making life worse for everyone else just because you’re suffering.”

“I don’t need to give some pithy speech about justice. I want to kick your ass so I can live peaceful days of just reading manga!” Takako said, her ribbon dancing around her. 

“Useless.” Mei’s cold eyes stared at them, levitating herself into the air. “Shall I show you true terror? Dark form change.”

Darkness gathered around the girl, her usually black armor gaining another dimension of despair. Ebony feathered wings spouted from her back with white tips. There, the imperial Devil Princess floated above her enemies, a god giving judgment no those foolish enough to oppose her. An aura of evil washed over everyone, choking them with her pure malevolence. It drove the breath from Seina’s lungs, making her legs tremble with fear. What was this magical girl? Had she discovered a level of power above the rest of them? Like Reiko, Seina sensed something sick about this new form. It was a perversion of a magical girl.

“Erase,” Mei said, extending a hand. 

Pain filled Seina’s entire being, overloading her senses. Years passed, agony became her entire being. Or was it only seconds? Seina could hardly tell either way. Through stinging eyes, Seina forced them open. Darkness surrounded her, making her wonder if she was dead. No, that wasn’t true. Pinpricks of light caught her attention, making Seina realize she was still in Starlight Dream. The force of the blast must have blown her clear. But she froze when she realized she’d made an incorrect assumption.

“What?” Chunks of what remained of Starlight Dream floated suspended in space. A quarter of the planet was just gone, vaporized to dust. Only the spike holding Kaguya’s body remained intact, an eternal line protruding from the piece of rock. Light shot from along its cracks, the core of Starlight Dream undamaged by the blast. 

“You did well to survive, girl.” Terror spiked down Seina as she gazed up to see Mei floating above her, gazing down at an insect that foolishly opposed her.  

“Stop this insanity! You’ll destroy everything!” Seina pleaded. Hadn’t enough people died already?

But Mei only snorted in contempt. “Nothing about it was worth saving.” Seina gasped as reality seemed to melt and shimmer from the magical girl’s mere presence. Reality itself couldn’t contain the Devil Princess’s monstrous power, nor did she care to restrain it. 

But Mei cared little about her pleas, raising her sword for battle. Seina tensed, ready to fend off whatever attack the Devil Princess planned on mounting. It’d been a naïve assumption. With impossible speed, Seina found Mei’s blade posed to cleave her in half. Steel clashed as Seina raised her staff to deflect the blow, but reality tumbled as their weapons clashed. The starlight scattered to the solar winds, the universe-shattering to pieces from the sheer might of Mei’s sword. 

Seina screamed, clutching her head. She caught glimpses of people, worlds, and entire histories, only for them to pop like a soap bubble, lost to the void. Hundreds of worlds filled her vision before they lost their substance. Much to Seina’s horror, she realized what was happening. Mei’s attack had cleaved apart a piece of the multiverse, and the Devil Princess had only been playing with her. 

“No, please! Don’t do this!” But Seina’s desperate pleas fell on deaf ears as the Devil Princess wailed on her, each blow coursing unimaginable pain through her body. Tears welled in her eyes at the senseless destruction, her pain seeming a drop in the bucket compared to the senseless destruction this monster caused. Every bone in Seina’s body shattered as Mei delivered a sudden kick to her midsection. 

“Now, do you understand the pointlessness of this battle?” Mei said, watching the wheezing Seina with complete dispassion. “You fought for nothing. You led a pointless battle, Seina. Your entire existence is pointless.”

“No!” But Seina fought to regain a battle pose, ready for another round. “Too many people are counting on me.”

“How childish. Do you know what my battles as a magical girl have taught me? That existence is fleeting. See how I snuffled out the lives of countless trillions in seconds? Nothing about this existence matter. It is only pain and suffering. In fact, you could say I’m doing them a service by ending their pathetic existence. I’m breaking the circle of Karma. What’s the point of life and rebirth if it only means pain?”

Irrational anger washed over Seina, boiling her blood. Everyone had something in their past that brought them pain. Heck, Seina suffered one of the worst days of her life only a couple of days ago. But people learned and grew from it. Mei had no right to cause such pain for her selfish reasons.

“That’s insane.” Power rushed through her as Seina’s conviction grew strong. “You’ve let your pain define your existence but forgotten everything wonderful about life.” The sound of her sister Seiko laughing echoed in her ears. That love urged her to fight and win. 

But Mei cared little for Seina’s words, raising her blade to cleave her childish opponent to nothing. She grimaced as beams of energy shot from nowhere, blasting her back. 

“Too true!” Takako said, her ribbon dancing around her. “Who wants to dwell on their pain their entire life? Besides, there are still too many cool mangas left to read!”

“Erase.” Mei charged again but hit nothing but empty space as dozens of illusionary Seina appeared to confuse her. They giggled and danced around, mocking the Devil Princess for her mistake. Each Seina copy blew apart from a single swing of Mei’s blade, but they’d only been a distraction. The Devil Princess grimaced as Takako and Seina struck her as one, staggering her back as their fists stuck into her armor. While doing minimal damage, they’d hurt her. A single swing of Mei’s blade drove them back, Seina’s head ringing from the sheer after-effect of Mei’s aura. 

The Devil Princess wailed on them harder, their atoms screaming in agony from each blow. But they fought back. Seina summoned hundreds of bubbles and Takako used her ribbon to guide them with an invisible wind. But Mei danced around each bubble as Takako threw them in an unpredictable pattern. The Devil Princess was too agile, dodging even when Seina’s friend teleported her bubbles across the battlefield. Whenever one approached, it just burst to pieces from an exertion of Mei’s malevolent will. To demonstrate the hopelessness of their plight, Mei snapped her fingers, and each of Seina’s bubbles popped harmlessly. 

Impossible. What was this power? 

“Simple. I’m not like other magical girls. No gimmicks. I am a force of nature, that’s all.” Mei replied to the unasked question. 

Dread seeped into Seina’s bones, wondering if they’d entered a hopeless battle. The other Devil Princesses, while powerful monsters, weren’t immune to her tremendous strength. But Mei made her seem like a harmless breath of air trying to blow down a mountain. Was this it? Had Seina finally met her match?

“Gah!” Mei yelped in pain as one of Seina’s bubbles exploded against her head, blowing her back. She shook her head, trying to regain her senses. More bubbles appeared from nowhere, blasting the Devil Princess back. What was going on? Another trick from Takako?

“You’re too reliant on your raw strength,” Emiyo said, using her hoop to guide Seina’s bubbles like a conductor. “You’re nothing but a blunt instrument.” Seina got it. Her friend had pulled her bubbles from the past for this surprise sneak attack. 

“Tsk.” Mei scowled from behind her mask. Much to Seina’s dismay, her bubbles popped on an invisible barrier as Emiyo tried repeating the trick. 

“Look out!” But Seina’s warning came too late. 

A pained gasp escaped Emiyo as she stared at the sword impaled through her chest. Her body convulsed, and a dark mist leaked from the wound. The mist reversed course as Emiyo reversed time on her mortal injury. But she succumbed to the pain, the former lieutenant’s body joining limp as her life force died.

“Emiyo,” Seina said, her voice quiet and hoarse, unable to believe her eyes. Takako only stared, struck with wordless horror. 

“How about I show you my power?” Mei said, all conversation. “Destruction. My ability allows me to destroy anything. Like your bubbles, for example, or a magical girl’s life.”

“Emiyo.” Tears spilled from Seina’s eyes, unbidden. While she hadn’t known the haughty girl for long, they’d been friends, comrades. Like Ume, Seina had been helpless to save her friend. This was too much. How could they defeat this monster?

“Anyone else?” Mei said to the void. “Coming to rescue your friend in another futile, heroic gesture?”

“Destroy. That’s all you can do,” Himari said, appearing from nowhere. Her voice was quiet, devoid of any emotion. “Little wonder Arisu considers you unworthy of being a magical girl.”

Despite herself, this struck a nerve, and Mei scowled. “That halfwit thug shouldn’t talk. As if she’s any better.”

“But no more. I won’t allow you to kill anyone else,” Himari said.

“Really?” Mei said, amused. “A failure of a magical girl fighting against a Devil Princess?”

“You’re right,” Himari said, her words frigid ice. “I hid, too scared to fight back against your cruelty. I sometimes cried myself to sleep, hating my powerlessness. But no more.” 

Then, Himari became everything. She filled the sky, encompassing the entire universe. She became all existence, every atom. Mei’s composure broke, a wave of uncertainty washing over her. She hadn’t expected this meek girl to have such a powerful ability. Himari had finally shown the true extent of her power. 

Reality shook as the two titans clashed, unleashing their terrible power against each other. Seina could only watch in awe as the shockwaves from the impact of their exchanges blew her back. Invisible blows bombarded the winged magical girl, overwhelming her with their ferocity. But Mei refused to back down, her blade tearing furrows into the fabric of reality. The multiverse rumbled as Himari screamed. Colorful ribbons of rainbow trickled across space. 

“We need to help her,” Seina said, grimacing as a shockwave almost knocked her senseless. More ribbons of rainbow crisscrossed across space-time as the Devil Princess tore apart their friend. Despite her higher form, Himari couldn’t match the devilish magical girl. At this rate, the void would consume everything if they didn’t stop this battle.

“What now?!” Takako said, voice verging on total panic. “This is beyond anything we can face! Just getting close could vaporize us!”

“We must!” Seina gripped her staff tight. 

“I was afraid you’d say that.” Takako rubbed her temple before beaming. “I’m in. Besides, you get numb to these hopeless battles after a while.”

Her friend’s expression turned serious. “But how can we approach? We might get crushed like an ant by accident.”

“Lucky you’ve got a clairvoyant on your side,” Arisu said, appearing from nowhere. She looked in terrible shape. Her left arm hung limply, her red dress torn to bloody rags.

“What happened to you?” Seina said, shocked. 

“While I was helping your friend escape the chaos, Kaguya ambushed me. Kiyojiro is safe, but that demon put a number on me. Escaped too, but she won’t interfere.”

“That’s something I guess.” Seina sighed, relieved her bodyguard was okay. 

“But I will not lie,” Arisu said with uncharacteristic seriousness. “The future looks bleak. It’ll likely choke us to death before we even get close. The slightest slip will scatter your atoms across the cosmos.”

“We can’t abandon Himari,” Seina replied. “I’m ready, regardless of what happens.”

“Can we stop fretting and go already?” Takako said, shrugging. “I’m tired of fearing the future.”

“My kind of girls,” Arisu said, her mouth extending into a wolfish grin. “Stay close on my heels.”

Weapons in hand, they charged forward into the chaotic whirlwind, primal winds battering against them. Seina cringed, skull throbbing as colors and images dazzled her eyes with confusing and ever-shifting patterns. But they fought forward, Arisu guiding them through the worst of the cosmic storm. 

When they approached the battlefield proper, they found both combatants beaten and battered. Mei bled from the stomach, her wound refusing to heal. Her opponent, Himari, existed as only vapor among the void, her essence beaten beyond its limit. When her eyes settled upon her rescuers, they were frightened but hopeful. 

Himari howled, releasing a gale that rocked the cosmos as it struck the winged Devil Princess. But Mei’s blade only batted it aside, unbothered by such a weak attack. But it’d only been a distraction, leaving Mei open to the true attack. 

“Gah.” Mei howled as Arisu’s staff impaled itself into her gaping wound, screaming in utter agony as the Wicked Queen’s holy magic tore her insides apart.

A fist pummeled the Devil Princess in the face as Seina unleashed her pent-up indignation, bashing her with everything she had. Takako blasted their opponent with beams that seared the eyes, leaving black scorch marks across the Devil Princess’s skin. Yet, it still wasn’t enough. 

Seina screamed as a backhand crushed her skull, staggering her. Arisu charged to her aid, but it was a futile gesture. The Wicked Queen screamed as Mei’s blade almost gutted her with a slash too quick for the eye to follow. More beams shot against Mei, but their effectiveness proved minimal against such a foe.

“Is that really all you have, heroes?” Mei said, her wings flying her to a superior height. 

“Damn it. If only I still had my Sunrise form.” Arisu spitted blood, annoyed. 

Sunrise form?

“That’s why you get for surrendering power, Wicked Queen. Kaguya told me all about it. You couldn’t bear to kill a friend, so you sealed her away instead. Pathetic. Your kindness doomed the multiverse.” Mei said. 

“Shut up,” Arisu replied, unimpressed by the Devil Princess’s insults. “I don’t abandon no one in my protection. That’s the code I’ve already followed as guardian of Daini Kameido Junior and the cosmos. I don’t expect a psycho like you to understand.”

“Well, it matters little now,” Mei said. “Once I end this nightmare of a multiverse and become GOD, maybe you’ll be reunited with your old friends.”

“Is that what Kaguya promised you? A brand new multiverse?” Arisu said, incredulous. “She’s a vampire. All she ever promises are empty oaths.”

“It was worth a try. If not, I’ll happily embrace the void.” Mei replied. “The void beacons me.”

“How could a vampire recreate the multiverse?” Seina asked, incredulous. “They’re parasites!”

“Not if she absorbs the essence of Starlight Dream,” Arisu replied. “It’s what Slithcar tried, much to his regret.”

“If life has taught me anything, you can fix what’s broken now,” Seina had seen her people restore what the vampires had destroyed firsthand. Every day, they restored society for a better future, so their children had better lives than they did.

“Is that what you think?” Mei broke into uproarious laughter. It contained no warmth and mirth, only hatred. “You know nothing about pain, child.”

“But!” Seina screamed as a blow caved in her chest cavity. Mei wasn’t interested in killing Seina. She wanted to hurt this upstart for talking back to her better.

“Seina,” Himari said, rushing to her friend’s aid, only to howl as a sword stabbed through her essence, dissipating it. 

“No.” Seina’s voice wavered, her pain forgotten by her heartache. With Himari gone, reality returned to normal, exposing them to the void. 

“Tsk,” Mei said, annoyed. “I’m not even certain I killed her.”

“Bastard!” Takako unleashed everything after the Devil Princess, summoning countless orbs across the sky. Each exploded, sending random beams that seared everything in their path. But Mei only flicked a wing, dissipating each beam with ease. Takako had pushed her abilities too far, sagging from pure exhaustion. Mei turned her back to the girl in utter contempt. 

“Seems it’s only you and me now, Wicked Queen,” Mei said, turning towards the only threat remaining. “And from your expression, you don’t see any hope in your future, do you?

“Just fight already. Enough posturing,” Arisu replied, inviting the Devil Princess to fight with a flick of a finger. But the Wicked Queen’s staff shattered to splinters from the force of Mei’s blade. The next swipe almost gutted Arisu, the elder magical girl dodging the fatal blow by a hair.

“It’s over. I’ve won, Wicked Queen,” Mei said, satisfied with herself. 

“No,” Seina said, stunned. After everything, after every hard-fought battle, they fail now? Never! It meant Ume and Emiyo died for nothing! “You won’t win!”

Seina charged, not caring how reckless or useless her attacks were. She refused to surrender. Mei dodged with casual ease, but Seina only fought harder. Blood stained her dress as the Devil Princess slashed and stabbed her, but Seina continued fighting. She couldn’t lose, not after everything!

“Useless,” Seina screamed as the blade stabbed through her, coughing blood. Mei’s cold eyes stared into her, enjoying the helplessness of her prey. It’d only take the slightest exertion of her power to erase Seina forever.

“No!” A blade stabbed through the Devil Princess’s chest. Even Arisu was surprised by the sudden appearance of Seina’s rescuer. A kick drove the Devil Princess back, freeing Seina from her blade’s bite. 

“Colten, Paliah!” Seina said, her voice a whisper as her partner cradled her.

“Of course, you’re my partner, Seina,” Paliah replied, smiling down at her. 

“What are you?” Arisu said, somewhat baffled. “Your magic, it’s like a magical girl, but you’re a fairy too?”

“I’m Seina’s guardian,” Paliah said, turning his blade towards their foe. “Anything else is immaterial.”

But Mei only released a derisive snort. “And now you’re the protector of nothing.”

“No, Seina, Paliah, flee!” Arisu said, but she was too late.

“Before Seina could even blink, a sword was already stabbing into her, glowing with malevolent energy. But the pain stopped, blinking in confusion as she found herself in another location altogether. What the? Seina froze as it revealed a horrible truth to her. 

“Gah!” Paliah coughed blood, the Devil Princess’s blade impaling right through his heart. 

“Not quite what I intended, but I look forward to seeing your partner broken after your death, fairy.” 

“No! Colten!” But Seina was too late, her best friend vaporized as the Devil Princess unleashed her power onto him. Only strands of white hair remained as the last fragments of a loyal friend. 

“Colten, no! Colten, no! Colten, no!” Seina clutched at her head, repeating those two words in a never-ending manta. Reality shattered as her entire world died. 

#anime #magical girl #anime stories #starlight dream #action #humor #fantasy #fiction #starlightdream #stories #spells #dark fantasy #friendship #family #battle #cute #story #literature #action adventure #young adult

[overgrowth-wc]

Snowdrift gets a much needed confidence boost, but we'll see if that's enough in light of what happens. 

              Snowdrift sighed, lounging by the medicine den in what he refused to acknowledge was a sulk. The half-moon had returned, and tonight he was to journey back to the Mothermouth, the first trip since he was named and received the omen. And it was an omen, as Softgaze had explained, apparently because he had not received any pithy quote or rhyme foretelling a specific event or cat. Just one foretelling doom and despair. Omens are warnings, showing what will come if they are not prevented. She had mewed sagely. Prophecies tell of what will happen, and exist to give you time to prepare. Semantics aside, Snowdrift was worried about what other omens he might receive, especially since he had not found a third cat to help him. He and Softgaze had agreed that after finding a warrior in both Shadowclan and Riverclan that it was likely there existed a cat in Windclan he was supposed to find- however, he had yet to discover anything, despite spending as much time as possible on the Windclan border. While finding the Riverclan tom had been a happy accident, it was lurking on the Shadowclan border that led to his meeting the Shadowclan molly. Snowdrift couldn’t help but flinch remembering that interaction. As embarrassing as getting stuck was, it had been made worse by the arrival of Mintfrost and her patrol. He could only hope that Briarmask showed up as he requested.

              Shaking himself from his brooding, Snowdrift took a moment to observe the camp. Cats were coming and going, making use of the last of the evening light to complete their tasks for the day. His mother chattered with Tigerwhisker near the warrior’s den, Rainpaw and Owlpaw were carrying in mouthfuls of freshkill, Turtlepaw was nervously making her way towards him-

              Snowdrift blinked, trying to hide his bewilderment as he watched Turtlepaw approach. She looked nervous, as usual, but she didn’t look injured, she was carrying no prey, and she wouldn’t be dragging her paws if she had a message to deliver. Snowdrift couldn’t think of why else she would come to see him, but he gave her a friendly smile and a warm blink as she made it to his side.

              “Good evening, Turtlepaw,” he mewed gently. “Can I help you with something?”

              “Um,” she fidgeted, “Ma always said we could… um… talk to the medicine cats if we, you know, needed advice, and Mintfrost said I should talk to you too, so, uh, could I maybe talk to you about something please?” The last part came out rather rushed, Turtlepaw looking almost desperate as she looked up at him from where she sat hunched over, gaze quickly returning to her feet. Snowdrift nodded immediately, glancing around before gently guiding her just past the curtain of ivy into the medicine den. Softgaze was spending time with the elders, so the den was empty, giving the two some privacy to talk. Snowdrift blinked down at her, Softgaze’s advice running through his mind.

              We don’t just heal physical wounds, but mental and spiritual ones as well. Sometimes that means walking with a clanmate through their grief, fear, or other such things: other times, it’s just being a listening ear and giving some objective advice. She had run through a few scenarios with him, and he had sat with her while helping other clanmates before, so he felt confident that he could manage Turtlepaw on his own. To start, a gentle touch would be needed to calm the flighty apprentice. Snowdrift lied down so that he was more level with Turtlepaw instead of looming over her, crossing his paws neatly and keeping his ears pricked attentively, even tilting his left ear towards her to make sure he could hear her perfectly clear. Turtlepaw relaxed a bit at that, her tail settling beside her and shoulders loosening, but she kept her eyes fixed on the ground.

              “I think something’s wrong with me.” She admitted quietly, sounding so dejected that Snowdrift just wanted to bundle her into a cozy nest and keep her safe from whatever made her so sad. Instead, he waited a moment to see if she would continue before speaking, matching her quiet tone.

              “What makes you think that?” he murmured.

              “It’s… everyone thinks I’m weird.” Turtlepaw curled in even further on herself. “Everything’s just so hard. Talking to other cats. Looking at their eyes. Understanding them, even. And then I talk too much, or I don’t talk enough, or what I say doesn’t come out right… I just can’t do it right. Everything just… feels too much, a lot of the time. Too loud, or too prickly. And then everyone thinks I’m weird because of it.” This last part she muttered bitterly, lip curling. “Ma tells me I’ll grow out of it, that I just have to make myself spend time with others. Da says I should, I dunno, make myself touch or smell or look at things I don’t like to get used to them. I try!” She mewed forcefully, quickly looking up at Snowdrift before glancing away again. “I try, but it makes my skin feel all prickly, and my head too loud, and I can’t do it.” Turtlepaw slumped forward with a sigh.

              “Rainpaw and Owlpaw understand, but they’re my brothers. I don’t have friends like they do because no one else here gets it, and I’m scared at the Gathering’s. I don’t want to be weird, or rude, or anything, but I don’t know how to not be like this. Mintfrost is the only other one who gets it,” Snowdrift forced himself not to visibly start at that, the statement clashing with his perception of the seemingly cold and strict deputy. “She doesn’t make me look in her eyes or touch gross stuff, and she doesn’t get mad when stuff is too much. And she listens to the stuff I like to talk about without telling me to be quiet. But everyone else wants me to change.” Turtlepaw clammed up at that, staring miserably down at her paws. Snowdrift blinked slowly at her, mulling over her words- the most he had ever heard from her. His heart broke for the poor apprentice, some guilt stirring in his stomach as he thought of his own perception of her being odd. He shifted gently before posing a question.

              “Do you want to change? Or do you feel like you have to?”

              Turtlepaw glanced at him in surprise and down again, but she seemed more thoughtful. “I think,” she said slowly, “that I don’t want to change, but I also don’t want cats to think I’m weird, or to look at me funny. And I want friends. Besides my brothers and my mentor. I just don’t know how to do it on my own.” Snowdrift nodded thoughtfully.

              “Alright, how about this- what if we worked together to practice some things,” at the look on her face, he emphasized, “and I don’t mean forcing yourself to do things that make you uncomfortable. I mean things that you can do to… blend in, a bit better, if that’s what you want. I know it’s not fair that other cats treat you poorly- this might just help get them to the point where they’re more understanding.” Turtlepaw nodded hesitantly.

              “How… would I do that though?”

              “Here’s an example then,” Snowdrift said, mind spinning as an idea formed. “Eye contact is difficult, right? But you don’t actually have to look in someone’s eyes to make them think you’re looking. What if you looked at their nose, or their forehead, or somewhere else near their face instead?” This was a trick Softgaze had mentioned- in the case she was talking about, a traumatized loner saw any eye contact as a sign of aggression and thus was afraid of it, but Snowdrift saw no reason it couldn’t help here. Turtlepaw froze for a minute, thinking, before once again nodding. “Would you like to try that now, with me?”

              Slowly, Turtlepaw lifted her gaze to his face. Her eyes flickered around a bit before finally settling somewhere, but as far as Snowdrift could tell, she looked as if she were looking him in the eyes.

              “How’s that feel?” He mewed, anticipation making his tail twitch.

              “It’s… fine. It’s a lot easier. I’m looking at your nose.” She said, wonder in her tone. “Does… it look right?”

              “Yes.” Snowdrift said supportively. “If you hadn’t told me, I never would’ve known.” Turtlepaw straightened up a bit at that, a bit of confidence entering her eyes.

              “There’s nothing wrong with you Turtlepaw.” Snowdrift mewed, tone serious but gaze warm. “Sometimes cats are a bit different. Did you know that Cloudclaw and I are each deaf in one ear?” Turtlepaw shook her head, wide eyes darting to his right ear as he flicked it. “We had to learn how to manage when we were younger, but we had help in figuring it out, and now no one would know. It doesn’t change who we are- cats just don’t notice it as much. You don’t need to hide who you are, but I understand the frustration you feel, about how other cats see you. We can work together to find the balance you need to feel confident in being around others while not forcing you to change yourself into something you’re not. Does that sound good?”

              Turtlepaw had been studiously staring at his nose the whole time, but at this she nodded, seeming relieved. Snowdrift gave a rumbling purr, eyes slitting affectionately.

              “I’m glad you felt comfortable coming to me with this, and I promise to help you in any way I can. For now, why don’t you try practicing what we came up with? You can start with your brothers, maybe, or Mintfrost- whoever you feel comfortable with. After that, we can try with other cats. Sound reasonable enough?” Again, Turtlepaw nodded, blinking gratefully at Snowdrift.

              “It does! It really does. Thank you so much Snowdrift! I promise, I’ll work really hard.” She bounced to her feet, smiling brightly. Snowdrift laughed before getting up himself to lead her out of the den.

              “Alright then, it’s a deal. Why don’t you go get something to eat and relax a bit? I know you’ve been training a lot lately.” Turtlepaw bobbed her head, still smiling as they stepped back into the clearing. With a wave of her tail, she loped off, Snowdrift gazing after her. She ran up to where Mintfrost was grooming herself near the warrior’s den in the now cool dusk, skidding to a stop in front of her mentor. Mintfrost looked up to her, ears flicking as Turtlepaw spoke to her briefly. Turtlepaw must’ve told her about her conversation with Snowdrift as Mintfrost’s gaze cut over to where he was sitting, still watching them. She dipped her head at him, which he returned respectfully, despite the unease he felt. It was at that moment that Softgaze shuffled up to him.

              “Alright, my boy, have you eaten? We need to head out soon.” Shaking his head, Snowdrift followed after Softgaze to get something to eat, a warm feeling blossoming in his chest. It felt good to help Turtlepaw, the interaction both reminding him of why he became a medicine cat and inspiring him with more confidence and determination regarding the omen. He could handle being a medicine cat, and everything that meant.

              There’s still time, he thought. We can still keep the clans safe.

________________________________________________________________

              It was cold on the moor, the wind unhindered by the trees and underbrush that made up Thunderclan’s territory. Snowdrift sat pressed up against Softgaze, sheltering the old molly from the bite of the wind. Fernfire and Kestrelcall sat huddled close by, looking uncomfortable as the wind buffeted their short fur. It was later than usual, but their Riverclan compatriots had yet to appear, which was odd. Reedpelt was notoriously punctual, often the first one waiting when the others arrived, a complaining Splashpaw sprawled by her side. Snowdrift was starting to worry, as the moon was climbing higher in the sky with no sign of them. Fernfire looked like he was about to say something when Kestrelcall’s ears pricked, his attention focused on the hill they sat near.

              “I hear someone- hopefully they’re finally here.”

              They watched as three cats crested the hill, which was surprising enough, but a ball of ice started to form in Snowdrifts stomach as he saw who it was.

              Oakstar and his deputy, Coppertail, were leading a miserable Splashpaw towards the assembled medicine cats, faces set in grim lines. Splashpaw was sniffing and hiccupping, paws dragging, as they finally drew up to the now concerned group of healers.

              “I’m afraid I have terrible news,” Oakstar rumbled, the old tom looking defeated. “Reedpelt was found on the riverbank just a short time ago, drowned.”

              It was a lightning strike had hit the group. Fernfire’s eyes blew open, Kestrelcall’s fur stood on end, Softgaze dropped her head in grief. Snowdrift couldn’t help his surprised gasp, unable to comprehend the news. How on earth does a Riverclan cat drown?

              “We have no idea how it happened. She was going to check some herb spots before leaving tonight, so she could discuss how best to prepare for leafbare with the rest of you. A border patrol found her near Windclan territory, and…” Oakstar trailed off with a heavy sigh. “I come to ask you all for a favor- specifically our Thunderclan friends.” He glanced over at Splashpaw, the normally bright tom staring ahead like he wasn’t aware of what was going on around him. “Splashpaw is only two moons into his training, and we have no one else to teach him. As the only clan with two medicine cats, I humbly ask that one of you might help us, and help him, by stepping in for Reedpelt and continuing to mentor Splashpaw.”

              Before he had even finished Softgaze was rising to her feet, normally sweet face set into a determined frown. “You don’t even have to ask,” she mewed firmly. “I will return with you tonight. Snowdrift will inform Stonestar once he returns to camp.” Her tone left no room for an argument, not that Snowdrift was planning on challenging her. Oakstar’s eyes glittered with relief as he bowed his head in deference to the old molly.

              “I cannot thank you enough,” he rasped. “If we may, Coppertail and I will escort you all to Highstones. We will wait outside until you are finished.” The group murmured their consent, all eyes shifting towards Splashpaw. Coppertail had moved to try and protect him from the wind, fluffy ginger tail wrapped securely around the young tom. Splashpaw didn’t seem to notice.

              The somber group set out, moving with haste as the night was growing older and colder. As promised, Oakstar and Coppertail staid by the entrance of the Mothermouth, giving Splashpaw worried looks as he trailed after the other healers. When they arrived in the cave the Moonstone was already aglow, and for a moment they all sat in silence, staring at the crystal in collective grief.

              The quiet was broken by Fernfire’s sigh. He carefully made his way over to Splashpaw, nudging the silver tabby into lying down by the stone before starting to groom his ears.

              “See if any of you might learn something about this,” he murmured to the others. “I’ll watch over Splashpaw.”

              The other three nodded, and Snowdrift felt numb as he lied down and pressed his nose to the stone, his stomach sinking at the overwhelming belief that it was all his fault.

________________________________________________________________

              Snowdrift once again awoke in the empty chamber, but when he spun around, his father was nowhere to be seen.

              “Please! Tell me what to do!” His desperate cry echoed around the chamber and down the tunnels, but there was no response. Snowdrift screwed his eyes shut, sitting down heavily. There was no doubt in his mind that whatever happened to Reedpelt was connected with the murder of Poppypaw and Falconstar, but he had no idea what to do about it. It would be another week before he met with the others he had found, and he had yet to discover the Windclan cat who was supposed to help. I thought I had more time!

              Suddenly, there was a shuffle behind him. Snowdrift whipped around to see a small, fluffy molly sitting in front of the Moonstone. Her back was to him, and in the blue glow of the chamber it was difficult to see what color her fur might be. When she turned to face him, however, he froze.

              Her eyes were a glowing mint green.

              “I’ve been here before,” she mewed distantly, “I mean, I haven’t, but I’ve dreamed of it so many times…”

              “What’s your name?” Snowdrift blurted, desperate but hopeful. “Are you a Windclan cat?” The little molly blinked, looking at him like she just realized he was there.

              “My name is Teasel- or, Teaselpaw, rather. I just came to Windclan, but I wasn’t born there.” A thrill shot down Snowdrift’s spine. This was it! The final cat.

              “I need your help.” He said quickly. “Meet me at Fourtrees, the night of the new moon. I’ll explain it all then.”

              Teaselpaw blinked, looking confused, but as she opened her mouth to speak the light in the chamber went out. In the darkness, the scent of mint started to become overpowering. Fear once again washed over Snowdrift like a wave, and he reached blindly into the dark for Teaselpaw.

              “Run!” Snowdrift yowled, pushing the apprentice in front of him before he darted out of the Mothermouth. The dream played out the same as it had before, the mint growing furiously around them as Snowdrift and Teaselpaw raced towards Fourtrees. This time, however, there were already cats in the hollow when they burst through the barrier around it.

              Snowdrift recognized Piketail and Briarmask as they gazed at him in alarm. They were standing in front of each other, claws out and fur bristling, but it seemed whatever confrontation they had been having was forgotten in light of the scene before them. The mint was everywhere now, and as Snowdrift and Teaselpaw stumbled to a halt, all four cats were soon caught in its inescapable grip. Four different voices echoed out across the hollow as they struggled fruitlessly against the tide.

              “Save them.”

________________________________________________________________

              Snowdrift’s eyes flew open, his sides heaving in exertion as he shakily sat up. A quick glance revealed Softgaze and Kestrelcall were still dreaming, their paws and noses twitching. Splashpaw’s back was facing him, but Fernfire was watching Snowdrift with sharp eyes.

              “Briarmask spoke to me,” the golden tom mewed. “I don’t know what it is you saw, but I encouraged her to speak with you. And do let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

              Snowdrift hesitated for a moment, before deciding to tell Fernfire what he knew. I need all the help I can get.

              “I received an omen- enemies from within are moving against the clans, and I think it has something to do with Falconstar, Poppypaw, and now Reedpelt’s death. I’m just not sure what. I was told others were chosen to help: Briarmask, of course, Piketail of Riverclan, and Teaselpaw of Windclan. Beyond that, the only hint I’ve gotten is that this is all connected to mint, somehow.” Splashpaw’s ears twitched at the mention of his clanmate’s name, but he didn’t say anything. Fernfire nodded thoughtfully, shifting to press more firmly against Splashpaw’s side.

              “Alright, I’ll keep an eye out. If someone is targeting medicine cats, we all need to be careful.” Snowdrift started at that- somehow, it hadn’t crossed his mind that the medicine cats themselves were being targeted, but it made sense with Reedpelt’s death. Before, it had seemed like Falconstar was the target, Poppypaw an unfortunate victim of circumstance. If it was the other way around…

              Snowdrift dipped his head to Fernfire, thanking him quietly.  Softgaze and Kestrelcall began to stir, and Fernfire shot Snowdrift another look.

              “If you don’t mind, I’ll tell Kestrelcall. I don’t know if he’ll take it well.” Snowdrift nodded quickly, relieved he wouldn’t be the one telling Kestrelcall his daughter had potentially been targeted. He padded over to Softgaze’s side, helping her up from the floor.

              “Our ancestors approve of me going to Riverclan.” She rasped. “Head back to camp quickly, and inform Stonestar of what has happened.” Snowdrift abruptly realized that Softgaze would not be returning home with him, and that he would be Thunderclan’s sole medicine cat for… he didn’t know how long. Until Splashpaw can handle it on his own, I suppose. So… moons probably, the thought adding another weight to his stomach. Snowdrift tried to not show the sudden anxiety that came over him, but Softgaze knew him too well. She let out a comforting purr, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder. “You’ll be just fine,” she murmured. “I trust in you completely. If you need anything, just come to the Riverclan camp. We have a right to visit each other when necessary, and I doubt Oakstar will mind.” Snowdrift nodded, giving her an affectionate nudge before turning to the other cats.

              “I’ll be off then. My apologies for leaving so soon.” His gaze landed on Splashpaw, who looked dead on his feet, still yet to say a word. Snowdrift padded over to the little apprentice, rasping an affectionate lick across his forehead. “I’m so very sorry, Splashpaw. Softgaze will take good care of you. And Reedpelt would be very proud.” Splashpaw’s face screwed up at his mentor’s name, but he nodded. With a comforting brush of his tail, Snowdrift dipped his head once more to his fellow healers before turning and trotting out of the chamber.

              We need to figure out who’s behind this, and quickly- before anyone else is lost.

________________________________________________________________

              Snowdrift raced home, following closely along the side of the Thunderpath. While odious, and often dangerous, the Thunderpath was usually silent this time of night, and it was the most direct way home. Plus, gathering clouds were making the night even darker, and he was struggling to see, making the clear path along the road the easiest way to traverse the territory quickly. He was back in Thunderclan territory, and just about to bear south when the smell of mint hit him in the face, sharp as a swat from a heavy paw. Snowdrift skidded to a stop, breathing heavily. He could see nothing in the darkness, but his fur was prickling with unease. There was an oak tree right next to him, on the edge of the forest- quickly, he clawed his way up the trunk, crawling out along a limb to try and see what was going on. As he did, the clouds parted slightly, affording him the barest glimpse of his surroundings. What he saw made him freeze in fear.

              Just briefly, he saw a brown and white form next to a smaller, black smudge, dark as the night around him. The black smudge stole out towards the Thunderpath just as the clouds reconverged, enveloping them in the darkness. Mintfrost? Meeting a Shadowclan cat?

              This must be the murderers, he thought desperately to himself, then realized his position- alone and unprepared to face them. Snowdrift scrambled back towards the trunk of the tree, huddling close to it and praying the branches were enough to hide his bright white fur from the cats below. And please, don’t let them look up.

              It felt like years before his heart calmed, and he opened his mouth to sniff the air. The scent of mint was completely gone- he let out a whispered prayer of thanks to the ancestors, sure that without the warning he would’ve careened right into those two cats, which certainly would’ve been disastrous. He needed to get home, now, and prepare to meet the other cats-

              They had a lot to worry about.

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#warrior cats fanfic #warrior cats #warriors ocs #warrior cats ocs #my writing #wc overgrowth

[miraculouscontent]

Anonymous submitted:

Look, That Guy is so far up his own backside that it’s not even funny.  He doesn’t strike me as the sort who thinks before he speaks – at least, not in the sense of evaluating what he’s about to say for pithy things like accuracy, truthfulness or anything of the like.

No, the only criteria he cares about is attention.  Singing his own praises while tearing others down.  Given how often he goes after other works, staunchly insisting that they pale in comparison to Miraculous Ladybug, he’s clearly envious of the thought of anybody or anything else getting attention.

(Again, worth noting that we see shades of Lila and Chloe in his behavior, and the classic bird meme ‘I am feel uncomfortable when we are not about me’.  Small wonder the world of ML revolves around Adrien to the point of 'Where’s Poochy'ing him.  If That Guy had his way, he and his show would get the same treatment.)

Due to this, any claims of 'representation’ – especially of this nature – strike me as little more than him latching like a lamprey onto anything that garners attention.  Frankly, it wouldn’t surprise me if he didn’t even read the post he reblogged – he just saw that it was about 'representation’ and went 'Oooh, buzzword!’

Now, I’m not claiming that she doesn’t read as neurodivergent.  I’m simply doubted that That Guy or anyone else involved with ML’s writing has considered the Implications at play here.  Because that would involve actually Thinking About Marinette as anything more than their personal punching bag and chew toy.

To be perfectly blatant, they would – and will – treat her like shit regardless of who she is, what she does, or how she’s wired.  Because she’s not their precious Adrien Agreste.

There is no care or concern for her character.  None.  Marinette does not matter to them enough for that.  She is their toy, their plaything, a prize for the creator’s pet that’s getting tortured because they think it’s funny.  Because it amuses them.

And if this happens to imply anything unfortunate about how they regard girls, or people who happen to be neurodivergent…?  Time to trot out the tried-and-true defense of ’It’s just a children’s show; it’s not that deep.’

They only want it to be seen as having depth enough to impress, without dealing with any criticism.  No matter how legitimate that criticism might be.  They want to soak up any praise they can while ignoring everything they don’t want to hear, cherry-picking what appeals most to them.

They want all the credit and glory without any of the responsibility or accountability.  And my, doesn’t that sound familiar…?

(To be clear, this pisses me off to no end.  I’m not surprised by this development, by any means – again, that utter lack of respect for Marinette and her mental state was clear long before now – but my stomach still turned upon seeing that further confirmed.  Knowing something doesn’t make it any less disgusting.  Hence the venting to get this coiling sensation out from under my skin.)

You hit the nail right on the head, anon, like damn.

They want to have their cake and eat it too. They want all this credit for the show being so amazing or revolutionary, but the second they’re confronted with actual criticism, it’s either, “oops!” or an immediate block.

I’d be willing to let this whole mental healthy thing slide if Astruc wasn’t... well, Astruc, but that’s not the case. He wants the praise, wants the attention, wants everything, but will hide behind any excuse possible for why this-or-that couldn’t happen in the show. It’s basically, “we did the absolute best with what we had and we couldn’t have done it better,” meanwhile their protagonist is over here having a panic attack every other week.

I agree that Astruc basically isn’t think of any implication whatsoever. I mean, even before I thought about the idea of Marinette being neurodivergent, I still thought it was cruel to treat her the way they do. It’s like creating this cute, precious thing just to abuse it, y’know?

#submission #category: salt #salt: staff #other: ask and answer #((I can't even tell if I'd ''want'' it to be confirmed or not.)) #((Because part of me is thinking that they'd finally get backlash because of it)) #((whereas the other is like ''lol bold of you to assume everyone wouldn't shill for him anyway''))

[dangermousie]

CFC 181 the extra scene

Only Meatbun would get me to write meta about her p2rn.

But the way HY seeks consent (and from his shock, he clearly wasn’t expecting it and that broke my heart) and just the whole sense of desperation! This is an even better knife car than Yuwu’s. (2ha’s knife ones were all noncon/dubcon and so quite a different thing. When it’s fully consensual and yet still insanely angsty, that is the BEST!)

And seeing XQC letting down all his walls and actually not demurring even for show but urging HY on is !!!! But probably because he knows this time it’s definitely goodbye so he can.

Side note - XQC definitely has hardcore submissive tendencies and a bit of a pain kink which totally makes sense for someone who is always alone and in control and for whom pain with pleasure makes a nice change from just pain.

He raised his hand and rubbed it against He Yu's. He had never done anything so out of the ordinary before, and he had never been so lustful in bed - despite his own desire to hide his true heart at the moment, he was at the same time really longing to be human - to be normal - to be like a living person, to be longing.

That tension between what XQC thinks he should be and what he actually is, is just!!! Both he and HY do not really think they are full members of the human race but they both want to be, it’s just XQC buried his desire way deeper. But also the fact that admitting he wants HY is safer for him than admitting his feelings is just...he is so messed up, but whiie HY does not know this, it’s made very clear to the reader that XQC only wants HY because he loves him. He could have never allowed his “mind over matter” body to yearn otherwise.

This just might be my favorite passage in a really long time:

He Yu was born disobedient to society.

Xie Qingcheng is different, Xie Qingcheng seems to be a person who grows up in accordance with the moral framework, but in fact he rebels more fiercely than anyone else. His venting is silent, but also destructive, is reckless, as if the future as dust.

But the future will come after all.

The two of them have been fighting all their lives, in their different ways - the whole “don’t succumb to suffering” tagline seems to be their unknowing credo. But of course, the uncaring Universe does not bend for them or anyone.

"Xie Qingcheng." Finally he said softly, "I want to ask you one thing."

"What?"

"Have you ever liked me? Even for a day?"

"An hour?"

He Yu stroked his hair, quiet for a while, and asked, as if reluctantly and as if self-deprecatingly: " Then, what about one second?"

Xie Qingcheng closed his eyes.

...

After a long silence, he heard He Yu laughing softly in his ear: "I'm sorry, I wanted too much."

"I know, you can't give me this."

This made me want to cry. But the line that XQC’s “heart was as soft as his body, but also as hard as his bones” is just so pithy and perfect. I do wish he’d told HY - because it’s clear to us as readers it would comfort HY but not keep him since he’s on some !!! mission - but XQC does not know that and so he can’t bend.

Anyway, this was the perfect knife car! Bravo, Meatbun!

#cnovel #case file compendium #meatbun doesn't eat meat

[bellshells]

A Moment of Bliss

REQUEST: I would love a Sirius x Reader x Lupin smut, where they treat her like a whore but are really cute afterwards. 

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader x Remus Lupin Warnings: Mentions of war, Alcohol, Langauge, Smut (oh good dear lord the smut) Summary: Reader decides that everyone needs a break, and after a nice meal some naughty shit goes down.  Word Count: 6.7k+

  You sighed and rubbed your eyes. It was all too much, there was news daily now and none of it was good. Seeing the smiling faces of Marlene McKinnon and her parents on the cover of The Daily Prophet had caused you to fear the worst. You watched as Marlene’s father kissed her cheek as her mother waved, they were celebrating Marlene’s birthday when that picture was taken, she looked truly beautiful. You remember it well, how you had laughed and danced, a welcome break from the horrors of the war. You remembered with a smile how lucky Marlene’s parents had felt that they were able to bring Marlene’s friends together to celebrate their special girls’ birthday. You couldn’t believe their luck either now, how terrible it was. It had been months since they had been murdered, yet seeing her face plastered across the front page of The Daily Prophet caused your heart to ache with grief.

You felt a tentative touch on your shoulder and reached with trembling fingers to clasp the hand there, and leant your cheek against it.   “You shouldn’t read it if it makes you upset.” A soft voice said behind you, you chuckled darkly and turned to face him.   “Then I wouldn’t read anything at all, Remus.” You paused; your lip quivered as you gazed at the face of your lost friend. “I just can’t believe she’s gone.” You replied, you tried to smile at Remus but stopped short as his brow furrowed in concern.   “Have you seen the awful guff that Skeeter woman has written about her?” Sirius called from the doorway, he wore a grim expression and held his own copy of the Prophet in his hand. “We can’t let this go unpunished, Moony.” Remus nodded and gave your shoulder a subtle squeeze.   “I know, but we must act cautiously, Sirius. We can’t let her death be in vain. You’re no use to anybody if you get yourself killed.”   “Dreadful.” You added quietly, more to yourself than to anybody else. Sirius stalked into the room, his eyes never on one spot for more than a few seconds.   “How is it that we are expected to do nothing? After everything that’s happened, after everything we’ve…sacrificed. It isn’t enough!” Sirius stalked to the tapestried wall and punched it hard, he groaned as he pulled his hand away and shook it fiercely. The rooms of Grimmauld Place were quiet now, what once had been busy as the headquarters for The Order of the Phoenix, were now still as more and more allies lost their lives. Remus was upon his friend in an instant, he grasped Sirius by the shoulders and tried to calm him.   “We mustn’t fall apart, brother. Not now.” Remus breathed, he took Sirius’ face in his hands and forced the bearded man to look in his eyes. “We haven’t come this far for nothing. She was special, one in a million, and I promise she will be avenged.” Sirius was defiant for a moment, he tried to free himself from Remus’ grip; but after a second more, he relented and sighed.   “Yes.”

  You stood quietly and made your way over to the two men; you hadn’t been close friends at school. You hadn’t been particularly close during the beginning of the war; but as the numbers thinned out as more and more people were killed, you clung to those who you knew you could trust. You slipped in between the two men and grasped both of their hands.   “Let’s go and get some food. It’s been a long day, let’s have a drink for Marlene. She wouldn’t want us to mope about.” You looked between them, a sad smile settled onto Remus’ scarred mouth and Sirius squeezed your hand in agreement. You nodded at them both and lead them from the house, it was dark outside, and you kept to the shadows as you crept through the quiet streets toward Muggle London.

*******

  “Leicester Square? Really?” Sirius asked with a quirked eyebrow, you pushed him toward the door to an Italian restaurant.   “Yes, it’s busy and full of people. We’re not likely to come across anyone other than muggles having a Friday night out. Okay?” You chided as you waited for a muggle waiter to seat you at a table. Sirius squirmed uncomfortably at your side, Remus on the other smiled warmly down at you and placed a gentle hand on your back as you followed the waiter further into the restaurant. The restaurant was heaving with people, groups of friends laughed rowdily at circular tables whilst couples held hands and whispered to one another on smaller ones. You grinned at the normality of it all, you wondered what it must be like to have no knowledge of what was happening out there, of what you had lost.   “What would you like to drink, (Y/N)?” Remus asked as he passed a menu in your direction, you accepted it gladly and turned to the waiter who stood with a notepad and pen in his hand.   “Pinot Noir please lovely, bottle-one glass, thank you.” You said and with a fleeting look of judgement which you brushed off; the waiter wrote it down.   “Yourself, sir?” He asked as he leaned down to hear Sirius as he scoured the menu.   “Chablis.” Sirius answered curtly, you kicked him under the table and Sirius scowled. “Thank you.”   “Is that a bottle, sir?” The waiter asked, his look now nonplussed as he shifted his weight.   “Yes, thank you. Been a bitch of a day.” Sirius cleared his throat and offered you a pithy look. You shook your head and turned your attention back to the food on offer.   “Long Island Iced Tea for me please, sir.” Remus said cheerfully, the waiter looked surprised at Remus’ order and a flash of humour crossed his face. Remus blushed and averted his eyes as the waiter confirmed the order and with a wink in Remus’ direction left the table.   “You’ve made a friend, Moony.” Sirius wiggled his eyebrows as Remus blushed and sank into his chair.   “I didn’t know you were gay, Remus! That’s fantastic!” You said and Sirius erupted into laughter. You watched as the two men exchanged looks over the table. “Have I missed something?”   “No, (Y/N). Remus isn’t…gay. But you do like to dabble, don’t you Moony?” Sirius clasped his hands on the table and cocked his head to the side. Remus slammed his menu down and pointed his finger at Sirius.   “You’re one to talk. I’m sure I could tell (Y/N) some excellent stories about you and your exploits, Padfoot.” Remus snapped, Sirius threw his head back and let out one short laugh.   “I’ve done things that would make a whore blush, and unlike you, I have noting to hide.” Sirius said, his eyes sparkled in the dim light of the restaurant. You looked bewilderedly between the two men, this power play between the pair of them was delicious and strangely erotic. You could feel your own blush tickle your cheeks as Remus cast his eyes over you, his mouth a thin line on his usually soft face.   “I think you’re making (Y/N) uncomfortable, Sirius. This isn’t really appropriate dinner conversation, is it?” Remus retorted, Sirius cast a glance in your direction and seeing your red cheeks, smiled. He inched his hand closer to yours on the table, his fingertips barely touched yours and yet you felt like you had been struck by lightning. The corner of Sirius’ mouth twitched into a smirk; his moustache twirled perfectly at the sides accentuated it as his face was illuminated by the candlelight. Seconds later, Remus’ knee brushed against yours under the table and you felt the warmth of the contact inch up your thigh as the blush on your cheeks spread over your body.     “I can hold my own Remus, thank you.” You replied quietly, aware of how both men watched you as you fiddled with the menu. “I can hold my own.”   “I’m sure you can.” Sirius said under his breath. The tension continued to grow between the three of you, even when the waiter appeared with your drinks and took your food order, his keen attention fixed on Remus; Remus stared at you. His breathing was shallow, and you could see his knuckles were white as he balled his hand into a tight fist on the table. You couldn’t help but notice how dark his eyes looked as you passed his gaze over his face, the soft contours of his cheeks and the scars that had lived there for as long as you could remember. He had a sort of ethereal beauty about him that was impossible to deny, the gentle exterior and the darkness that was promised underneath by the swathes of battle marks across his flesh.

  You allowed Sirius to pour your wine and blushed again as he watched as you took a sip of the ruby liquid. You dabbed at the corner of your mouth with a finger and pressed it to you lips; the forgotten drop of claret soon mopped up with your tongue. You heard a sigh from Remus’ direction, your attention brought back to him. Sirius laughed again; his shoulder length hair tickled his face as he said:   “I think we shall have some sport tonight, brother.”

 ************

  You ate mostly in silence, only commenting on how delicious the food was- or, in Sirius’ case lamenting on the best way to eat a pizza as he attacked it with a knife and fork. When the plates were cleared, the wine flowed freely around the table. You had insisted Remus catch up and order a bottle for himself, and he in turn demanded that both you and Sirius have a cocktail to even up the score. Sirius ordered himself a Negroni whilst you opted for a Black Russian, you smiled at the two men began to relax into the evening. The sensual tension from earlier in the evening forgotten as through a fit of giggles you told Remus of the schoolgirl crush you harboured for him in your fifth year, he in his sixth.     “Honestly, it was pathetic. Poor Lily tried everything she could think of to get us alone together so I could tell you how I felt.” Your stomach hurt from laughing so much, the sides of your cheeks ached, and you were delighted by the delightful shade of pink Remus had turned.   “I’m telling you now, (Y/N). Moony only ever had eyes for one girl at school and she never looked twice at him!” Sirius laughed; he swirled the contents in his glass before he knocked back a big gulp.   “Oh, please tell me who it is, Remus. I need to know who I was losing out to.” You said through your laughter. Remus mumbled under his breath, so quiet it was impossible to hear him. “What? Sorry I missed that.” You grappled at Remus’ hands as he tried to cover his face. “Who was it, Remus? I promise I won’t laugh.” Remus looked from you to Sirius, if looks could kill, his friend would be dead in his Negroni before he knew it. He took a deep breath and covered his eyes.   “McGonagall” Remus whispered, Sirius slapped his knee in delight, and you couldn’t help the snort that escaped you as you thought of a poor, seventeen-year-old Remus hopelessly in love with the stern professor.   “Have a thing for authority, do you?” You asked playfully, Remus’ look darkened once more as he lowered his hands.   “Quite the opposite actually, (Y/N). I like the idea of those in power relinquishing it.” He said quietly, you felt as though everybody in the restaurant had disappeared as the only sound you could hear was the beating of your heart in your ears. You bit your lip and blinked, desperate to rid yourself of the warmth you suddenly felt between your legs.   “I just like fucking.” Sirius added after a moment, he considered what he said and then lolled his head to the side once again swept his gaze across your face. “A lot.”

  You didn’t know what to do with your hands as you regarded each of the men now staring intently at you.   “Shall we get the bill?” Sirius asked.   “Yep.” Remus answered instantly, his hand in the air as he tried to get the waiter’s attention. You grabbed for your purse and you each threw money onto the table; the muggle money was so fragile you thought. Especially the paper money, luckily Remus knew what-was-what and squared up with the waiter who looked disappointed to see Remus leaving. It was Sirius this time who placed his hand on the small of your back as you made your way out into the night, it was chilly now and you pulled your thin jacket around your chest.   “Where to now?” Remus asked, “Home? Or another drink?”   “I could have another drink…at home.” You said, you felt the warmth return between your legs and both men grinned at you. You slipped your hands into each of theirs, Sirius brought your hand up to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to your fingers. Remus brushed the back of your knuckles with his thumb, each action from the two men sent electric pulses through your veins.

*********

     “I’m telling you, (Y/N). If you had told Remus all the naughty things you wanted to do to him at school, he would have come immediately into his pants.” Sirius said as he poured port into three glasses and passed them around. You took a thoughtful sip, the richness of the port warmed you as you considered what to say next.   “Who says I wanted to do naughty things? The things I had in mind were wholly innocent, I’ll have you know.” You replied, you snuck a look at Remus from the corner of your eye; he seemed completely interested in his drink.   “Oh, I imagine they were, (Y/N). You were sweetness and light in school, weren’t you? Butter wouldn’t melt.” Sirius discarded his drink onto a nearby table and stood. He walked around his chair and placed his hands on the backrest, he leaned forward and squared his jaw. “I would have given anything to ruin you.” His gaze didn’t waver as a gentle moan left your lips; it was almost inaudible, but Remus’ head snapped up in your direction. You parted your lips and ran your tongue along them, they felt painfully dry.   “Sirius, you’ve had too much to drink mate.” He said, Sirius merely shrugged.   “In Vino Veritas, brother. You telling me that you wouldn’t have absolutely fucked her senseless if she told you she wanted you?” Sirius countered. Remus ran a hand through his hair as he took a swig of his port.   “I am still here.” You offered weakly. Sirius sneered at you as he picked his tumbler up and swirled it around again.   “I know, witch. I want you to hear.” Sirius said darkly Remus groaned in his chair, he shifted uncomfortably. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it, Moony. Me and you, her hot little body to keep us warm.” You moaned again; it was involuntary this time. Both men looked in your direction as you rubbed your thighs together, desperate to relieve the throb between your legs. Sirius chuckled ominously as he offered his hand to Remus. Begrudgingly, Remus took it. Your heart thundered in your chest; you bit the inside of your cheek; surely you were dreaming? You would wake up any second now, a damp patch in your knickers and a desperate aching in your quim. Sirius rolled the sleeves of his smart white shirt up to his elbows; he crossed the room in an instant. He knelt in front of you, his hands on your knees. You could do nothing but stare into the face of this man you had known in some capacity since you were eleven, as he moved up your body, his mouth close to your ear; his hair tickled your cheek.   “Would you like that, (Y/N)? Would you like to lie between Remus and me? To be utterly filled to the brim?” You could feel his hot breath on your ear, you rolled your head back and sighed. Your eyes fluttered closed and Sirius’ lips grazed your earlobe, you clutched the arms of the chair tightly. “Just say the word, (Y/N). Just tell us you want us-”   “You don’t have to, (Y/N). Don’t feel pressured-” Remus interjected, you stopped him short with an extended hand. You reached for him; his eyes darkened as he took your hand. You looked up earnestly into his face, the face that had littered your dreams for a solid nine months as a teenager. You smiled wryly at Remus whilst Sirius held his breath, still by your ear.   “I want you.” You whispered, “Both of you.”

  Sirius pulled you out of the chair and pushed you toward Remus, his arms extended to catch you. You placed your hands either side of Remus’ face and inched your lips closer to his, Remus closed the gap with a growl. He kissed you hungrily, it was furious, and you slid your hands into his hair and tugged. Remus groaned against your lips as your hands moved readily in his hair. You felt a tug behind you as Sirius turned you in Remus’ arms brought your mouth to his. You couldn’t decipher whose hands were where; as you felt your shirt being tugged over your head, and hands working at the belt of your jeans. You felt them being pushed down your thighs as you were turned once again to face Remus. There was a pair of hands on your breasts, roughly needing them through the thin lace of your bra whilst a hand graced over your stomach and one plunged into your knickers.   “So wet already. Can you smell her, Moony?” Sirius grunted against your neck, his teeth grazed along the sensitive skin and he sucked hard. Remus only moaned in response, he bit down on your lower lip and you shuddered under him. Sirius moved his fingers deftly over your clit, he rubbed it gently and your head rolled back onto Sirius’ shoulder. “Make yourself useful, (Y/N). Why don’t you play with Remus’ big cock?” You didn’t need to be told twice, Remus’ lips pulled back into a snarl as you made fast work of his belt and pushed his trousers down to his knees. He was hard as you pulled him out of his boxers, he hissed as the air touched his member. You worked your hand up and down Remus’ shaft to the same pace that Sirius rubbed your clit. Remus pulled your head forward by your neck and crushed his lips to yours. Another moan slipped from your lips as Sirius parted your slick folds and pushed two fingers inside you, your grip around Remus tightened as he bucked his hips against your hand. Sirius quickened his pace, and your legs began to tremble as you began to move your hips against Sirius’ hand, fucking yourself on his fingers. You pumped Remus faster as a slew of curses fell from his lips. Sirius grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back roughly. You yelped in surprise but found your scalp burned pleasantly with the pain.

  “I want you to come on my fingers, witch. Do you think you can do that?” You nodded helplessly as his thumb began to rub you as his fingers plunged in and out of your sex. Remus pulled away from you, your hand now empty of him, you brought it up to tangle in Sirius’ hair.   “Fuck (Y/N), you have no idea how delicious you look now.” Remus whispered; he attacked your neck with wet kisses as Sirius brought you to orgasm. It flooded through you in powerful waves, your moans silenced by Sirius’ hand around your mouth.   “Quiet. I want to hear your pretty noises, but not here.” Sirius instructed. As you came down from your high, you saw Remus nod to Sirius as they both grasped one of your hands. With a distinct pop you arrived in your Grimmauld Place bedroom, before you had the chance to adjust after the apparation, you were flung backwards onto your bed. You watched with half lidded eyes as Sirius and Remus both undressed fully, you could see clearly now just how well-endowed the pair of them were. Remus was bigger than Sirius, but Sirius was girthier. You licked your lips in delight, you couldn’t believe this was happening. Both of these attractive men lavishing attention on you, it was almost too much to bear. Remus climbed onto the bed; his arms open to you.   “Sit on my face.” He commanded, you did so without hesitating. You hoisted a leg over either side of his head and lowered yourself gently down, his lips were gentle against your throbbing pussy, still recovering from your previous orgasm. Sirius appeared next to you, his hand slid down your back and gave your arse a smack, causing you to jolt forward. Remus grasped hold of your hips and held you in place, his tongue probing at your slippery entrance. It felt divine, Remus knew exactly what he was doing and as he kissed and nibbled at you, he began to shake his head from side to side. The feeling of his tongue rounding delicious laps around your clit was earthshattering, you had never felt anything as intense as this before. You were coming again in seconds; and you threw your head back and ground yourself against Remus’ face. You could hear Sirius laugh as Remus lapped at your core, you shuddered against him and whimpered at the overstimulation. Sirius grasped your hand roughly and placed it on his cock which throbbed impatiently. You moved your hand to the top around his foreskin and pulled back, Sirius smile illuminated the room as he moved your hair to the side.   “No love, use your mouth.” He whispered, you slid awkwardly from Remus’ face and crawled before Sirius. You looked up into his dark face as he regarded you, he watched as you ran your tongue from the bottom of his shaft to the top. He sighed and placed a delicate hand to the top of your head, pushing it downwards. You didn’t mind, in fact, you thoroughly enjoyed it. The feeling of the decision being removed from your hands was delectable in a life such as yours, where at any second you could die from making the wrong choice.

  It took you a second to adjust to Sirius’ girth as he began to fuck your throat, slowly at first and after you gave him a swift nod; he picked up his pace. You gagged around his cock as Sirius pushed it further into your throat, you had to swallow; or you thought you might choke. Saliva dripped from your chin as with great effort, you swallowed around his cock. Sirius let out a groan and grabbed a fistful of your hair.   “Do that again.” He commanded, you instantly swallowed around him. He quivered and thrusted into your mouth with more force, you whined around him as with each time he hit the base of your throat, he pulled out almost as far. You mourned the loss of him in your mouth each time. He tasted salty with sweat, and you found that the most delicious thing you had tasted all evening.

  Your jaw began to ache and though you did your best to ignore it, Sirius seemed to sense your discomfort. He pulled out of your mouth with a satisfying pop.   “I want to come inside you, (Y/N). I want to make you come all over my cock.” Sirius breathed into your ear, he still held fast onto the fistful of your hair. You moaned against his lips as he brought you roughly in for a kiss. “Feeling neglected, Remus?” Sirius laughed as he surfaced for air. You looked over your shoulder to see Remus on his back, he stroked his cock lazily as he watched you.   “On the contrary, just enjoying the show.”  

You were breathless, positively alight with desire. Every inch of your flesh screamed with want and for a second you felt guilty, wanton almost. Every scrap of decorum you previously possessed ebbed from your body with each illicit moan, and every time you passed yourself between these two men you couldn’t help the grin that formed on your face. The lascivious acts you had both endured and performed were more than you could ever ask for from one partner let alone two. The bottom line though, you felt, was if it was wrong or if it you weren’t meant to enjoy it…why were you enjoying it so?   “Come here, darling.” Remus said softly, as if able to hear your thoughts. He held his arms out to you and you crawled into his embrace gladly. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head and his hands travelled down your back to your rump, he squeezed it and gave it a playful tap. You smiled widely at him and kissed him deeply, your hands found themselves again in his hair and his mouth trailed hot kisses from your mouth along your jaw. Sighs of contentedness fell readily from your lips as Sirius approached from behind you. He brushed his hand softly up your arm causing your flesh to tingle under his touch. You heard Sirius whisper a spell and with a start you were thrown onto your back, propped up on the pillows; your legs brought up spread wide and bent at the knee. You felt soft fabric wrap around your wrists and the backs of your thighs as your arms and legs were bound together, leaving you bare, open and vulnerable to both men. Another soft piece of fabric settled over your eyes, completely covering your vision, and leaving you without sight. A fleeting moment of zealous insecurity bounded through your mind; you had never tried anything as adventurous as this with any of your previous partners. There hadn’t been many, mind you- but still you felt a little out of your depth. What flashed through your mind next was Remus’ kind face, you knew he would never let anything happen to you. You knew you need only say the word if you were uncomfortable and there would be no hard feelings. He would probably make you a cup of tea and talk about something innocuous until you felt better. And there was Sirius, who earlier on had felt so incensed over what had happened to Marlene that he was willing to put himself in danger- yes, you knew you were in safe hands.

  “How does that feel, (Y/N)?” Sirius asked from a way away. You pulled against your bonds slightly, you couldn’t escape them, but they weren’t painful.   “Indescribable.” You breathed. You smiled, unaware if either of them could see your face. You felt a soft caress of your inner thigh, your breath hitched in response. Your cunt ached with need, regardless of the two orgasms you’d already had by Sirius’ quick fingers and Remus’ clever tongue.   “We’re going to play a game, aren’t we Remus?” Sirius said jovially, as if he were speaking of Quidditch in the sun.   “Oh, yes. I love this game.” Remus replied from elsewhere in the room. You would have liked to think that your hearing would have been heightened by having your sight stripped from you; but you wondered whether the disorientation you felt as the two men moved around you was part of the game.   “We’re going to fuck you now, (Y/N). One after the other. You are to guess who is fucking you.” Sirius said. You felt a hand tug on the restraints around your knees and a hum of satisfaction.   “You are not allowed to come unless you guess correctly.” Remus added somewhat cruelly. You frowned and felt another hand caress your breast, they took your nipple in between their fingers and gave it a tug. You yelped with surprise and tried to lurch upwards, but a hand against your chest pushed you down again. Where the fingers were on your nipple a second ago, you felt a tongue trace around the stiffened teat. They sucked hard and you bucked your hips upward, desperate for something, anything to ease the throbbing you felt in your quim. You were wracked with worry though, what would happen if you couldn’t tell them apart?   “Our girl’s needy, wouldn’t you say Sirius?” Remus said, oh, it was Remus who suckled on your breast. You felt his hot breath on you as he pressed wet kisses across the valley of your breasts and then lavished the other nipple with the same delicious torture.

  You needed to come. You needed release desperately. You bucked your hips upwards again and a whimper escaped you. Fruitless.   “Please.” You whispered blindly; you didn’t know if they were even listening to you. “Please fuck me.”   “Who?” A voice answered quietly, you weren’t sure who answered you, you bit your lip.   “Anyone, both of you. Please, I need, I need-”   “Look at us Moony, two dogs with a little bitch all tied up and begging.” Sirius said, you had no idea where he was. He seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at once. Like his voice filled all of your senses and yet left you achingly touch starved. “Isn’t that something?”   “Yes, the irony isn’t lost on me.” Remus replied, he too seemed to float in the ether around you. Like a voice from a dream, almost tangible. You began to struggle against your restraints, it was torture. You wanted nothing more than to be fucked by these two men and the longer they made you wait, the more restless you became.   “(Y/N), are you ready?” You nodded as definitely as you could, you braced yourself for what, you couldn’t say. Another agonizing minute passed before you heard any movement. You could feel the heat from a body between your legs, it was impossible to say who it was as they leaned forward to press their member between your slick folds. Whomever it was pushed into gently, you squealed as they filled you torturously slowly. You moved your hips against him, desperate for the friction. When they didn’t move you let out a grunt of frustration. You heard him chuckle, whoever he was, and he gave the smallest thrust into you.   “Please-” You mustered, your voice was small and full of want. You wished you could take this person in your arms and fuck him, but with your arms and legs bound together, all you could do was lift your hips. He was big, bigger than anything you’d had before. You felt the sting as he stretched you out with each miniscule thrust. You felt fit to burst, like you could explode at any second if you weren’t fucked and fucked well. You writhed beneath him, impatient and desperate.

  You weren’t prepared for what happened next. Your mouth was forcefully opened, and a cock slid inside. Whoever wasn’t buried in your cunt took your mouth. Incredible. You spluttered against it, as the cock inside your quim began to move. You moaned throatily as you were utterly filled. The cock inside you began to push furiously into you, bruising your cervix with every delectable thrust. It was almost manic now; you were being tossed around something chronic and with every thrust from inside you caused the cock in your mouth to be pushed further into your throat. You wanted to badly to feel them around you, you wished to lavish your lovers with touches of encouragement.   “Fuck.” That was definitely Sirius. But you couldn’t work out where. Dear Merlin, you needed to come. Please, you begged to anybody that might listen, please. You hollowed your cheeks against the member in your throat and tried to suck, but the force in which they fucked your mouth let you do nothing but try and keep your teeth out of the way.   “Fuck, fuck.” That was Remus. His voice seemed to be closer than Sirius. You moaned again, as the man between your legs lifted a hand and began to rub your clit. That was it, you were going to come. The man between your legs fucked you harder as if he could sense this, the room was a cacophony of moans, of delicious skin on skin and you could almost float away in the bliss. You felt your orgasm begin to reach its peak, but that wasn’t allowed was it? Nobody had asked you to guess? You decided not to bring it up, but to reach the climax you so desperately craved.

  The thrusting into your core was desperate now, incensed. You could hear the cries of a man about to spill his seed. The man in your mouth pulled out and you clamped your aching jaw closed immediately. You felt hands around your throat and pressure as your moans became heightened, matching the orgasm that now sizzled through you.   “Oh...Lord!” The man between your legs came, you could feel it. “Fuck, I’m coming.” That was Sirius, you were sure of it. A slew of curses whispered in the distance and you could feel his thrusts become weaker as he filled you full of him.   “Sirius.” You whispered with a smile.   “It’s a bit late for that you naughty slut.” Sirius snapped, in an instant the ties around your arms and legs vanished and they fell to the bed with a thud. They ached, you ached. You had never been fucked that hard and you groaned as you rolled onto your stomach. You were pulled up sharply by your hips and onto all fours. You craned your neck round to see Remus behind you, red faced and sweaty as he lined himself up with your entrance. You noticed his chest was littered with scars and you wanted to run your tongue along each one.   “Need to come.” Remus muttered as he pushed into you roughly. It was like night and day to the way Sirius had fucked you, Remus pulled a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back sharply. He wasted no time in building a rhythm, he rutted into you mercilessly. You cried out, the pain in your scalp along with the pleasure in your loins was almost too much for you to bear.   “God Moony, I’m hard again just watching you fuck her.” Sirius said, his voice was strained as your eyes met. He was perched against the pillows, his back to the headboard as he stroked his now hard cock. His eyes were dark, and he licked his lips as he watched his best friend pound into you from behind. Remus let go of your hair and brought his hands to your hips in a vice like grip. He pushed and pulled you onto his cock, you could feel the wetness you had created trickle down your thighs.

  Your voice was hoarse as you came for the fourth time, you had cried and moaned and whimpered for what felt like hours. You felt tears sting your eyes as the pleasure trundled through your veins, your walls tightened, and Remus gave a great cry before he thrust into twice more and you milked him of his orgasm. He fell forward onto you and you went with him, falling onto Sirius’ chest with a grunt. Sirius wrapped his arms steadily around you and bundled you close to his chest. Remus pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder as he slid from on top of you and pulled you in between them, Sirius on the right, Remus on the left. You breathed. From the bottom of your lungs you gasped in great breaths. Sirius’ fingers travelled from your neck to the base of your spine and back again, and Remus stroked lazy circles on your stomach. You hummed contentedly as your heartrate returned to normal, you nestled your head into Sirius’ chest and wiggled your hips against Remus earning a laugh from the latter.   “Comfortable (Y/N)?” Remus asked into your hair. You hummed in agreement and let your eyes close.   “Well our game didn’t go much to plan, did it Moony?” Sirius asked, you could hear the smile in his voice. Remus’ chuckle vibrated against your back.   “No, not quite. Someone obviously didn’t understand the rules.” Remus said, he tapped your stomach playfully and you groaned.   “I understood perfectly, thank you very much. I just couldn’t hold on much longer. I was desperate.” You sighed and Sirius placed a kiss to the top of your head.   “You’ll have to do better. We won’t be as lenient next time.” Sirius stated. Your eyes fluttered open and gazed up at Sirius face, he was joking, surely?   “We certainly will not.” Remus confirmed from behind you, you felt your stomach leap in excitement.   “Next time?” You murmured; this couldn’t be happening. No, not to you. Remus rolled you in his arms, so you faced him, Sirius shuffled down the bed slightly and wrapped his arm around your middle.   “You think I’m going to go the rest of my life without ever fucking you again?” Remus questioned; his brow furrowed but you could tell he was being sincere. You pressed your finger to the scar that ran across the bridge of his nose and traced it lightly, he closed his eyes against your touch and pressed a kiss to the palm of your hand.

  You were still. The three of you. You must have fallen asleep; you have no idea when or how long for; but Sirius stirred behind you and your eyes opened wearily.   “(Y/N),” he whispered, “Rem. Come on, we need to bathe.” You lifted your head from Remus’ arm and yawned, your bodies were stuck together with sweat and who knows what else. Remus groaned and pulled you closer to him. Sirius bent to kiss your cheek and shifted to the side of the bed. “Shall I run you a bath, (Y/N)? I imagine you’re very sore.”   “Yes please, I’m broken.” You joked and shot a wink in his direction. You yawned again. “Do you fancy a coffee?”   “I’ll put the kettle on.” Sirius said as he pulled his discarded boxers on over his manhood, he flicked the light on as he exited the room. You turned your attention back to Remus who looked so peaceful, you felt guilty disturbing him. You placed a tender kiss to his lips, and he smiled.   “Come on, we need to get up. We absolutely stink.” You said softly, Remus only pouted and pulled you even closer.   “Don’t want to.” He replied stubbornly. You laughed and pushed his arms from around you. You rubbed your eyes and trailed your hands over your neck and chest, the skin there tender. “(Y/N), can I ask you something?” Remus said, he had propped himself up onto his elbow as he watched you.   “Of course.”   “Why didn’t you ask me out when we were in school?” He asked you quizzically, you groaned and flopped backwards onto the bed. He inched closer to you and placed a hand on the side of your face, turning it to him. His green eyes intently fixed on yours.   “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I was scared you would say no. My little fifteen-year-old heart couldn’t have taken it.” You replied with a chuckle.   “I wish you had.” He paused thoughtfully; he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I would’ve said yes.”   “Really?” You pondered, he hummed and pressed a lingering kiss to your lips and suddenly, he was gone. You opened your eyes to find him at the other end of the room pulling his boxers on.   “I still might.” Remus winked, he left your bedroom with a yawn and closed the door.

  You sighed and rubbed your eyes. It was all too much, but the butterflies in your stomach reminded you that even in the midst of the horrors of this war there was still happiness to be had. Even if it came in the shape of two very unlikely men. You couldn’t believe your luck, how much it had changed.

#requests #harry potter requests #harry potter reader insert #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x remus lupin x reader #wolfstar x reader #lupin x reader #black x reader #remus lupin x y/n #sirius black x y/n #remus lupin x you #sirius black x you #post marauders #post hogwarts #godrics-swallow #wolfstar x you #wolfstar x y/n

[scientia-rex]

I’m having a nervous breakdown but honestly it’s been going pretty smoothly so I feel like I can’t complain. Worst decisions I’ve made have been to eat too much when I’m stoned (which I have been getting almost every night for the last couple of weeks because of The Depression, serotonin machine VERY broke), which gives me heartburn. I bought a used but in good condition Nordic Track elliptical today and we wrangled it into the garage so one of these days I may even get back in “climbing a flight of stairs” shape. (I am currently in “yes, I can twerk, but only for the REALLY good part of the song” shape. Twerking requires a whole lot of quad strength, and also a decent sense for where to begin and end the arc of your pelvis, but it clicked for me about ten years ago and I mostly just do it when I’m dancing in the bathroom every night before I take my shower.)

I know so much. How is there so much left that I don’t know? I spend so much of my life trying to figure out, with obsessive tenderness, how to use as few words as possible to make my meaning as clear as possible. I do this for my patients. They need me to do it. If I don’t do it, who will? Who else is going to sit there and spend days of internal monologues and conversation figuring out the exact right simile to convince someone of something deathly important? To use the right pronouns for a trans kid, to take their blood pressure medicine, to get their booster now and not two weeks from now.

And that’s not what I want to be doing. Or is it? I want to write something complicated. Long, flowing, flowery sentences with deliberately disturbing and ambiguous language. But it gets so hard when so much of my time is about teaching. Explain, explain, explain. Your heart beats like this. An artery does this. It’s a water balloon—it’s a muscle—listen, two things have to be true—I’m full of short, pithy anecdotes and common sense, I talk like salt of the earth, I do it on purpose. Sometimes at night when I’m driving home after dark I talk out loud to myself in my car and I do it practicing “prestige dialect.” These remnants of a series of three linguistics classes I took eighteen years ago. I was such a child. But I still remember how to do it, or at least I think so. Lower and round my vowels. Enunciate. Erase all traces of the country hick from my voice. Because I get tired of only playing one character, one role.

Country doctor. I didn’t realize until partway into medical school that nothing about me would ever be as important as my identity as a doctor again. And now that I’m a country doctor, I get the good things I wanted from it—I love, I am loved, I have the bliss of service, knowing that I am there in a moment when I can offer something any other doctor would not have offered, understanding, validation, the voice of an elder queer who is From Here—but I am also in a fishbowl. And thanks to COVID, I’m trapped in the fishbowl. No vacations. No escape from the doctor identity. I have to maintain it at all times. No being a grody weird little goblin at 3am hitting up the gas station across the street for snacks. We don’t live waking distance from anything anymore, nothing is open at 3am, and I have to look at least relatively composed at all times. Because the person behind the counter might be my patient, or my patient’s cousin, or their spouse, or their parent. Today a guy came out to check on some repairs and I’m his son’s doctor and also the doctor of three of his employees. My patients know what my living room looks like. One used to spend Christmases there. The mother of the person we bought the house from is another one of my patients now. There is no separation and no privacy and I had counted on being able to escape to a city once in a while to get drunk and dance and eat at absurdly expensive restaurants in dresses I can’t wear in this town.

I am going insane, and I can tell because I pulled out most of my eyelashes. I’m alexithymic—I don’t know what I’m feeling most of the time, I have to look at the evidence and put it together—and I imagine it’s because showing any emotion in my childhood bought me punishment, and it’s easier not to show emotion if you don’t even know what it is. But I’m going insane. I’m short a whole lot of eyelashes. But I’m still going to work, I’m still being a good country doctor. I’m still fighting like hell for my patients. I might get too tired to do this, especially since I’ve decided to go back on the call rotation. But I miss the excitement of call. And I miss meeting people in the ED who would become my patients. It’s where I met a teenager after a suicide attempt who, over the next year, gradually came out to me and their family as trans. It’s where I met one of the clinic employees, who, a year later, stopped me in the hall to tell me how comforted he had felt by me. How he felt I never judged him, and how much he appreciated my presence there.

It’s hard not to get a big head, until you screw up so royally you almost kill one of your favorite patients, which I did last fall a few days before Thanksgiving.

I am doing my best. I am putting one foot in front of the other, over and over again. I always tell my patients, baby steps. You’d be amazed how much progress you make with baby steps. When I was 18 I almost killed myself because I hit a truck in my car at a slow speed. No one was hurt, but it was so terrible to me it was almost worth dying over. When I was 18 I failed a class for the first time and almost killed myself over that. I’m more than twice as old now as I was then. I’ve learned more than I could ever have imagined back then. I did it all via baby steps. I slowly learned to work around my anxiety, until now my anxiety barely slows me down.

It does steal my eyelashes. That’s okay. I’m having a nervous breakdown. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I’m fatter than I’ve ever been, and I’m simultaneously horrified and disgusted by myself, and aware of my internalized fatphobia, and happier than I’ve ever been. I’m worried I’ll regret not having children and it’s not quite too late probably if I changed my mind right now but also I don’t have kids and this is the happiest I’ve ever been. It must be immoral to be this happy in a pandemic. And if I’m happy, why am I pulling out my eyelashes?

I just want to write something and I have to untangle my brain first. This is how it’s always been. Unwind the threads. I have to be my own Ariadne.

#the attending dr. kristophine

[cozy-the-overlord]

For the Lobster of Loki

Summary: Exposure to terrigen mist during a mission-gone-wrong results in you developing some newfound aquatic abilities. Unfortunately, this opens the door for your Avengers teammates to make use of the bane of your existence: fish puns. 

Word Count: 2,850

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader (first person)

A/N: I can’t believe I actually wrote this.

For those of you wondering what the hell this is: a few weeks ago, I had autocorrect change the word "love" to "lobster" while writing a fic. I found this hilarious and made a joke about it on Tumblr and it kind of turned into a meme on my blog. A couple of my friends told me I needed to turn this into a story and so now I present to you the stupidest thing I have ever spent precious time creating. Also, I usually don't like writing in first person at all, but my go-to third person limited just did not feel right with this nonsense, so I decided to experiment with a different style

Thanks for reading! :)

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

I was going to murder Tony Stark. I was going to murder all of them, but I was going to murder him first because he was the one who started this nonsense and now it had been going on for two weeks and I was one fucking smirk away from scalping myself.

It all started when I woke up with gills. Waking up with gills is a strange experience. Don’t get me wrong—I realize all things considered, I had it pretty good. I’ve heard about some really horrific transformations since I experienced my own— people who came out of the midst having lost their eyes or their limbs or their minds. There have been people who came out of the mist looking, sounding, and feeling like completely different creatures than when they went in. And there have been people who don’t come out at all.

No, I know damn well I was lucky to come out of the experience with nothing more than a pair of gills stuck in my neck. Still, it was an odd feeling—there was a heightened awareness every time I breathed in, pinprick chills trickling across the newfound ridges as I exhaled. It didn’t feel right, but it didn’t feel wrong either—it was a stiff feeling, a bit like putting on a new pair of shoes for the first time, if that makes sense. I didn’t know what to make of it.

When I woke up, there was about a hundred doctors hovering around me, each with some new sterile terminology to throw my way about my condition, none of which made anything close to sense. I was losing my mind until Bruce showed up. He was able to put it simply: during the mission, I had been exposed to terrigen mist. Instead of killing me, it triggered a transformation in my DNA. I was inhuman.

My inhuman gift, it seemed was the magical blessing from the Black Lagoon. I had gills now—that was the most immediate realization—but there was also the fleshy webbing between my fingers and a weird film over my eyes that I didn’t notice until I tried to rub them with the heel of my palm. All of these wondrously fishy attributes added up to one glorious result: I could swim like a fish.

That was the first thing they tested. As soon as the doctors said I was good to go, SHIELD dumped me in a pool and told me to have fun. And I did. I had never been a fantastic swimmer or anything—the extent of my swimming knowledge came from the lessons my mother had forced me to take as a kindergartener because she was afraid I’d fall into the pond at the park down the street from our house and just die, which … fair. I still hated those classes. But now, now—oh, it was a completely different experience! I cut through that water like a knife, like Michael Phelps who? I was a bullet, shooting back and forth across the pool and just hanging water for as long as I liked.

Because I could breathe underwater now. That’s what gills are for, I guess, although it doesn’t really feel like breathing. Like, I’m not inhaling water while I swim. I’m just … I don’t know, my lungs are still filling with air, my chest is still going up and down, but it’s not through my nose. I don’t know how to explain it, it’s weird. But it’s really fucking awesome.

The team was very supportive of everything. I had only been living at the Tower for a little while, so I had still felt like something of an outsider—I didn’t have powers, and I certainly didn’t have the years long rapport that they had with each other. But they were really cool! Tony designed me a sleek new suit that was able to move well in water while still offering protection, and everyone had the time of their life trying to think up a pithy new code name for my newfound superhero status (we still haven’t quite decided, but I’m leaning towards Torpedo, because isn’t that the coolest thing you’ve ever heard?). Everything was great.

Well, almost everything. There was one thing that was kind of bothering me. Loki hadn’t talked to me since I got hit with the mist. That might sound like a weird thing to get hung up on—oh no, the psychotic extraterrestrial terrorist is ignoring me!— but Loki’s not really like that. He doesn’t really talk about the whole New York thing much, but he’s said enough to make it clear that it’s not something he did of his own volition. If you saw it you’d understand what I meant, the way he tenses up whenever someone brings up the Chitauri and his eyes go all glassy like he’s not really there behind them. You can just tell that whatever had been waiting for him on the other side of that portal, it wasn’t good.

We never talked about New York, but we talked about other things. I’m not really sure how that happened. He does this thing where he acts all annoyed with everyone, like he’s just so over everything, and it irritates everyone so much that they all avoid him like the plague, which of course is what he wants. I guess I just didn’t avoid him when I arrived—I was too busy avoiding all the other superheroes who made me nervous to bother trying with him—and he grew to tolerate my presence.

We started talking about stuff one day, random shit like the purpose of nutritional facts on the side of poptart boxes and the boiling point of water on Earth vs on Asgard because apparently that’s different. And then we’d do things like make fun of the way Steve talks because he’s just so easy to make fun of, and Steve would overhear and tell us to knock it off and that would just make the whole thing funnier and Loki would mimic his voice and say something stupid like “I can feel the righteousness surging!” and Steve would just shake his head and walk away while we laughed like idiots. So yeah. We were friends. Or at least, I thought of him as a friend.

But I was starting to think that maybe he didn’t see me in the same way. We had been partners on the mission where I got hit with the terrigen mist, but he didn’t even come to visit me while I was still in the hospital. And literally everyone came to visit me. Friggin’ Director Fury came to visit me, although I’m pretty sure that was more because he wanted to see what my transformation had entailed and not because he had any particular interest in my wellbeing, but still. And then when I got out, he never said a word to me and everyone else wanted to talk to me so I didn’t say anything to him, but I was worried about him just the same. He was avoiding me too—he wouldn’t ever look at me when I was looking at him, and a lot of times he’d get up and leave the room if I came in. And I didn’t know what was going on.

I probably should’ve asked, but I don’t know … I was afraid, I guess. Like, what if he was really mad at me for something, and just me trying to talk with him would make him upset? So I just didn’t say anything—went through my day pretending everything was normal and ignoring the ache in my chest constantly reminding me that it had been weeks since I got my powers and Loki still hadn’t asked me if I was okay.

But I kind of forgot about all that when Tony started this bullshit. Honestly, I’m surprised he didn’t start it sooner, because it was the type of low hanging fruit that had his name written all over it, but once he started it there was no going back.

He started it one day when we were in the kitchen. I had been making a sandwich (tuna fish, because I’m a cannibal) and Tony was leaning over the counter watching me, and we were just talking about my general fishiness.

“I’m jealous, really,” he was saying. “It’s definitely something that would come in handy. You need to get something underwater, you just dive down—no tanks, no masks, no suits. Very sophisticated.” His eyes lit up, which is never a good thing. “Sofishticated!”

I groaned. “Stop it.”

But Tony was cackling. “Sofishticated! That’s rather gilliant, if I do say so myself.”

“Tony …”

“It doesn’t get any betta than this!”

I waved the bread knife in his face. “I will throw this at you.”

“Alright, alright.” Even as he held his hands up in surrender, he was giggling like a child. “I’ll stop.”

He did not stop.

The next morning, it was fish puns. Everywhere you turned, it was fish puns.

“Can you get that report back to me soon, or do you need more time to mullet over?”

“Just let minnow when you’re ready to try on the new suit.”

“Don’t trout your abilities, we all know you’re fintastic.”

It was only breakfast and I was inches away from crushing my face against the china cabinet.

Natasha raised her eyebrows. “What the hell have I walked into?”

Tony grinned. “It’s fish puns!” he said. “Because, you know—” he gestured vaguely in my general direction. “It’s her brand.”

I moaned, face in my hands. “Just kill me now.”

Clint perked up. “Don’t you mean krill me now?”

Laughing, Tony gave him a high five over my head as I writhed in pain. “That’s the spirit.”

I don’t know how he did it, but in the matter of hours Tony had the whole damn tower on the pun train. Natasha was joking about how she was having a whale of a time with this new game. Clint was telling me to clam down and enjoy the fun. Steve asked me if I could get kraken on my o-fish-al business. Even Bruce—Bruce, who always made a point of staying out of Tony’s nonsense—even he was coming up to me with shit like “Cod you come help me with somefin in the lab?”

I glared at him. “Why would you ask me that?”

He hesitated for a moment. “Well …” Bruce inhaled. “Salmon had to.”

I stormed off as Tony roared with laughter from behind the corner.

It was inescapable. Wherever I went there was someone armed with some new fishy atrocity. You’d be surprised at how many fucking fish-related words exist in the English language. JARVIS was so overloaded with the amount of Internet searches for “fish puns” that he started bookmarking lists for easy access. It was an absolute nightmare.

“Don’t play koi, sweetheart,” Tony teased one night while we were waiting for Clint to choose a movie. “We know you lobster it.”

“Lobster?” I scoffed. “That doesn’t even make sense!”

“You just don’t appreciate my ingenui-sea.”

“OH MY—”

“Ignore them, my lady.” Thor smiled gallantly “They are only jesting. You should just relaks.” He grinned, stepping back as he waited for a reaction. We all just blinked at him. He frowned. “You understand, yes? Re-laks? Laks? That’s a fish!”

“Lak is not native to Midgard,” Loki interjected without looking up from the book he was reading. I jumped. He had been so quiet I had forgotten he was in here too. “Their oceans are too warm.”

Thor was surprised. “Truly? But I thought we’ve tasted lak since we’ve been here!”

Loki rolled his eyes, still without looking up. “That’s salmon. It tastes similar, but it’s much smaller.” He turned the page, muttering something that I didn’t quite catch. I was suddenly struck by the fact that it was the closest we had come to talking since before the mist, and that ache came back, gnawing at the edges of my heart. He didn’t look at me. I didn’t say anything.

About a week later, it was my birthday. I don’t really like birthdays in general, but I had really been bracing myself for this one all week because there was no way in hell these morons weren’t going to something infuriatingly stupid to mark the occasion. I guess I didn’t do enough bracing, because when I walked into my bathroom that morning to find a big fat lobster scuttling around in my sink I nearly had a fucking heart attack.

Across the mirror, someone had scrawled a message in red lipstick.

Sending you birthday fishes and lots of lobster!

And that was the moment I decided I was going to murder Tony Stark.

I stormed out into the hallway with no weapon, no plan of action, nothing except the pajamas on my back and the lobster in my hand. Additionally, this was the moment I decided that I hated lobsters more than any other creature on this earth. This thing looked like something from outer space, with its antenna and its bulging eyes and its spindly spider legs—that what it was, an overgrown spider in a slimy red shell. It was disgusting.

I was on my way to Tony’s floor, so engrossed with this half-baked notion of busting down his door and throwing this extraterrestrial arachnid on his face while he snored in bed, that I didn’t even see the Asgardian prince until I walked right into him.

Luckily, Loki grabbed me before I stumbled backwards, because I recoiled so quickly I probably would’ve gone flying. He raised his eyebrows as he took in the sight.

“I assume there’s a reason for the crustacean?” he asked.

There was something ever so slightly condescending about his tone, and I bristled. “They left this thing in my room! I swear, I’ve had it up to here with this fish bullshit—”

He hushed me, pulling the lobster from my grasp. With a wave of his hand, it was gone.

I inhaled. “You didn’t kill it, did you?”

“Oh no. I merely moved it to a more preferable location.” He frowned at the moisture left on his palm, conjuring a handkerchief to wipe it off with. “You know,” he said slowly. “The more visibly upset you allow yourself to become over this, the more encouraged they’ll feel to continue.”

“I know, I know. I just—” I sighed. “It’s so annoying. It’s been going nonstop, for two damn weeks! Puns are the absolute lowest form of humor, it’s just obnoxious.”

Loki only nodded as he turned to make his way down the hall. “I’ll take your word for it.”

And just like that, it was back to ignoring me. I watched his retreating form, the ache in my chest quickly bursting in to flames.

“Why are you avoiding me?” I snapped.

He froze, slowly turning around. “Pardon?”

“Why are you avoiding me?” I repeated. “You won’t talk to me anymore, you barely even look at me— did I do something wrong?” Maybe the fish jokes really had fried my brain, because I was dangerously close to tears. “I don’t get it Loki, I thought we were cool and now you just hate me!”

“I don’t hate you!” he said. “I just—”

“Just what? What is going on with you?”

“You could’ve died!” Loki yelled. I had never heard him speak that loudly before, and guess I was shocked into silence. “With the mist, on the mission. It was only pure chance that you didn’t.”

“I—I don’t understand.”

“I was supposed to cover you. I should’ve realized sooner that they were using terrigen crystals. Instead I miscalculated and you nearly died.” He let out a shaky breath. “I thought you were dead. When I found you, enveloped in that shell …” His voice trailed off and I realized with a start that his eyes were glistening with tears.

“Loki …” My gills tingled on my neck as I reached out for him. Is that what this was all about? Guilt? “Loki, you can’t blame yourself for that. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. And besides, I’m fine now. It all worked out in the end.”

He shook his head. “You don’t understand. You didn’t see yourself. You were gone, I was certain you were gone—”

I griped his hand. “I’m here now though. I’m here and I’m fine. Stop beating yourself up about it. I want to be friends again. I—” For a moment, the words caught in my throat. “I missed you.”

He gulped. “Truly?”

“Of course! Besides, I need your help getting back at these idiots.”

He smirked. “Oh, I’ve already started on that.”

A high-pitched scream broke out across the floor. “How did the fucking lobster get in my shower?” Tony bellowed from his bedroom.

We exploded into laughter.

“Oh,” I wheezed. “That was fucking perfect!”

Loki grinned, squeezing my hand. “Only the best for you, my lobster.”

#loki (marvel) #loki fanfic #loki x reader #crack fic #for the lobster of loki #cozy writes

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

I think I use too many words when I write because I am so desperate to be understood correctly.

My life is extremely atypical. I am a decidedly odd person. Things that for others have simple answers for me are “it’s complicated”. Far too often in my life I’ve been reminded that others have no clue what is actually going on with me, or I have tried to carefully tell people something only for them to get it ass backwards. Interactions with others take navigating  See, people have assumptions. They assume based on their own lives and stereotypes.  They glimpse one small fragment of your existence and their biases kick in. They will even interrupt you because they are so sure where you are going with what you are saying, even if they are absolutely wrong, and then not really listen to anything you say after. You have to get through that.

So I ramble on and on, over explaining, trying to find the words that will make what I’m trying to say absolutely clear. I don’t even care if what I say offends, as long as people are offended by what I mean to say and not what they think I am saying.

It never works. There are no magical right words. I’m an anomaly, an alien on my native world, struggling to communicate things outside of others’ experiences. It isn’t their fault. It isn’t mine. It just is.

Any time anyone seems to understand any part of me my heart latches onto them as a friend for life, whatever they actually think if me. And this is even if it as minor as an off hand comment on a movie or the weather that I share. Years later I’ll still think about an offhand comment of a stranger with the nostalgia some have for a soulmate.  I long to feel understood.**

 I wish to hell I could figure out a balance. I want to be able to be brief, pithy even, without feeling I’m not being clear enough. The compulsion to be accurate, nuanced, and understood doesn’t let go, even when it isn’t needed.

But there I go again. Using too many words. 

**I actually have sense of how that feels. With Pop I could get by with fewer words, secure he would often get what I meant without me filling the air in a cloud of explaining. I’d say things simply. I wasn’t exactly laconic, but I didn’t need to elaborate endlessly. I took it for granted, forgetting what the rest of the world was like. 

#my day #writing #words

[jaskiersvalley]

Hello! I love your work. Would you ever consider writing about a shapeshifter! Jaskier? 🙇‍♀️

While I already have the shifter AU going, this ask has prompted a very different idea. I have nothing to say for myself and I am so very sorry in advance. This is not what anybody could have possibly asked for but it’s what has happened so...enjoy?

The problem with giving Geralt the one blessing he asked for was that Jaskier missed him. And, damn his heart, Jaskier still cared for Geralt, knew that eventually things would settle between them. It might take Geralt a few years, maybe a couple of decades, he was emotionally dense, but they would travel together again. That didn’t mean Jaskier didn’t want to at least keep tabs on him. So he travelled adjacent to Geralt, far enough away to hear of him but not enough to get underfoot or encounter Geralt. Or so he thought.

As far as performances went, Jaskier had been quite pleased with the evening. He had a tidy sum of coin in his pouch, lute slung on his back and making his way to the inn where he was told he could request a room. The murmurings got to Jaskier before anything else and he was grateful. A witcher was in town. A certain white haired, grumpy as fuck witcher. It would have been generous to say Jaskier panicked. No, he freaked out. Not wanting to encounter Geralt just yet but also missing him somewhat fierce, Jaskier did the only thing that made sense. He was near the stables, likely where Geralt would leave Roach. Who was the next best thing and would understand, Jaskier had chats with her before while Geralt was off fighting some monster or other. So, in a fit of worry, Jaskier did the only thing that made sense. He ran into the stables, found an empty stall and shifted. No doubt Roach would be put in the stall next to him and then they could catch up. She had some quite pithy commentary sometimes, especially about Geralt’s choices.

Only, there was no Roach, no Geralt but the stable-hand had come in and Jaskier was stuck. Especially when it was noted that he was there without any explanation. Words spread quickly about the horse just left in the stable without pay or anything else. Nobody seemed to know where he had come from, and now there were more and more people coming by to look at him and Jaskier couldn’t shift back. It was getting awkward.

“I heard there was a horse without an owner,” an all too familiar voice rumbled and the couple of people eyeing Jaskier up parted. Geralt strode forward and looked over Jaskier with a critical eye, lifting his legs to inspect him. “If nobody comes for him in the morning, I’ll take him. 500 oren.”

Just like that Jaskier was sold to Geralt. Things couldn’t get more awkward.

They absolutely did get more awkward. In the morning, nobody had come forward to claim Jaskier so Geralt handed over a pouch of coin and unbuckled a saddle and other riding bits and bobs from his pack. Too stunned to resist, Jaskier let himself be equipped with it all and he was led out. Geralt swung up on his back and they started their way out of town. All Jaskier could think was that Geralt was really sodding heavy.

Nothing was said until it was dusk, Jaskier was grumbling about Geralt and his lazy ass refusing to walk. They had found a nice little clearing and Geralt tied Jaskier to a tree. The indignity of it all had Jaskier tossing his head, smacking Geralt with his mane.

“Alright Roach, alright,” Geralt murmured. Which. Wait. What?! Jaskier was most definitely not Roach. He needed to know what happened to Roach, his dear girl couldn’t have met an unfortunate end. However, there was no way he could ask without revealing his identity to Geralt and that would only lead to more arguments.

What Jaskier didn’t anticipate was for Geralt to start talking while his dinner cooked over the small fire.

“You’ll get used to the quiet, don’t worry.” An ironic thing to say given that Geralt was breaking the silence. “There was a time it wasn’t like this.” If Jaskier wasn’t mistaken, there was a fond smile on Geralt’s lips. “There was lute music, half hummed lyrics, complaining, so much complaining.”

Suddenly, Jaskier didn’t want to listen anymore. He didn’t want to hear Geralt besmirch his good name to even his horse. Who was, unfortunately, not a horse but the very person Geralt was reminiscing about.

“You would have probably liked him,” Geralt continued, unaware of Jaskier’s conundrum. “Jaskier always loved Roach, he would have probably adored you. Tried to spoil you. He made life better for everyone.”

Oh no. Grealt was not doing this. Jaskier snorted and stomped to try and put an end to it all.

“Definitely would have liked you,” Geralt laughed bitterly. “He was a bit of a dramatic idiot too. I’d heard he was in the town I found you. But by the time I got there, he had disappeared. Wasn’t at the inn he was told he’d have a room at. Maybe he heard I was in the area and ran.” This time, Geralt actually sounded tired and sad. “I can’t really blame him. It’s not like he knows I want to apologise. I wasn’t nice to him.”

Jaskier blew air out through his nostrils heavily and Geralt turned to look at him with a wry uptick of his lips. “Thanks, for judging me but not hating me for it. I do enough of that by myself.”

After that, Jaskier really couldn’t shift and reveal his true nature. This wouldn’t have happened if he had just been honest with Geralt from the start, shown him his true nature. But no, Jaskier had wanted to play human and now he was paying the price. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. And fuck again.

The charade went on for three days. Jaskier suffered Geralt on his back in exchange for being talked at. Surprisingly, Geralt really liked to talk to his horse. Mostly it was about hunts of the past, more detailed than he had ever shared with Jaskier in his human form. The topic of Jaskier himself came up more than once, Geralt grumbling about hearing snatches of his songs being murdered by other bards. Finally, the topic of old Roach came up too and Jaskier neighed in laughter. Winter had been cold in Kaer Morhen, vicious and the stable hadn’t held up as well as the witchers had assumed. Roach made more than close friends with Scorpion when the wall separating their stalls crumbled away. So now, she was up in Kaer Morhen, keeping Vesemir company and due to drop a foal a little before winter.

In those three days, Jaskier also waited patiently while Geralt stumbled across a nest of drowners, they outran a warg pack and took out a contract on a kikimora. Nothing Jaskier hadn’t really seen before. He even enjoyed it a little, confident that in his horse form he could run to safety.

Everything unravelled when Geralt returned from the kikimora hunt, a hewn off head dangling from his hand. He approached Jaskier and that was when Jaskier realised what was about to happen. There was no way on earth Geralt was going to tie a dripping, disgusting monster part to Jaskier and sully his beautiful fur.

“Oh no you don’t!” Jaskier growled, shifting into human form and backing away from Geralt. “That is not going anywhere near me.”

Fuck.

They stared at each other, Geralt blinking and frowning.

“I thought I could smell you,” he said dumbly in the end. Which. Okay. Weird as hell to open with that over everything else. But Jaskier could play the game.

“Nice to see you too, Geralt.”

“That too.” Obviously, Geralt had not changed a single bit. Which Jaskier could have deducted without the latest exchange. “If I use a throw to cover you, will you take the kikimora head back to the village? It’s a long way to carry.”

Well then. Jaskier rolled his eyes. It seemed they were not going to have the conversation in that moment. Relenting, he shifted back into horse form and trod on Geralt’s toes in warning.

“You’ve listened to me for the last three days. I’m not repeating myself,” Geralt grumbled. However, he did loop his arms around Jaskier’s neck in a quick hug. Maybe he did find non-human forms easier to interact with. It made Jaskier wonder whether something made Geralt averse to humanity. Who was he kidding? Being a witcher was reason enough, humans treated him like shit. Bumping his head against Geralt’s chest in reply, he started walking, Geralt falling into place beside him.

“Thank you.” The words were quiet but no less heartfelt. “For coming back to me.”

Jaskier found he was rather glad himself.

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #the witcher #shifter jaskier au #tldr: jaskier is a shifter and accidentally becomes the next roach

[tinyboxxtink]

Okay SO--

Since nobody wanted to answer me right now and I was dying to write, I wrote beginning's for BOTH of my ideas. God almighty I really hope I didn't just start two different stories running at the same time.....NO. NO I WILL NOT. You have to CHOOSE which one you get now, and which one you get later.

The first one is called "Caught In The Storm" and the second one.....I can't think of a pithy title right now.

So...yeah. CHOOSE.

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@wanniiieeee

@aprildecker-blog

@milkshqke

@lolliepopsicle

@objection-argumentative

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

PS- For the first one, you really need to have heard or listen to "Caught In The Storm" By Katherine McPhee as heard on SMASH.

"Caught In The Storm"

“Okay I want you guys to be COMPLETELY honest, be brutally honest,” You instructed the group as Kelsey sat at the piano. They all agreed and yelled cheers as you began to sing:

You can push me away

I can take it

I can make you a promise

and break it

We know the way it goes by now

Running off just to see

if I chase you

I pretend I know how to replace you

Still we get tangled up somehow

You danced around the stage, singing happily to your “family”, that basically consisted to the entire NYC SVU squad and your two best friends, Kenneth and Kelsey.

Hear it thunder

And I wonder

How long can I hang on

I'm caught in the storm

I'm caught in the rain

I'm caught in the rush that hides this pain

I'm ready to drown

But it's coming down

But I feel so alive

Just let me go

Just walk away

If you love someone you never let them stay

Caught in the storm

You didn’t have the best family life growing up. Your dad was out of the picture, your mom worked 3 jobs just to keep a roof over your head, so you were alone a LOT of the time. You and your next door neighbor Kenny had become fast friends, and often his dad Fin would let you stay for dinner, even sometimes overnight if your mom was going to be really late.

As the bars on The Bowery are closing

You arrive at the door standing frozen

You say you thought you'd find me here

Tell me how I begin to forget you

When you keep coming back and I let you

Love me until you disappear

From then on, even when you went through high school and college, Fin was your “dad”. And when he became a detective at SVU, you’d often visit him because you didn’t live next door to him anymore and he seemed to ALWAYS be working.

I'm caught in the storm

I'm caught in the rain

I'm caught in the rush that hides this pain

You had quickly been “adopted” by Olivia Benson, and the other members of the squad. However, people began to shuffle in and out of the unit, the only consistency being your “mom” and “dad”. Currently, your “extended family” consisted of Nick Amaro, Sonny Carisi, Amanda Rollins and Rafael Barba, the ADA that often worked the SVU cases in court.

I'm ready to drown

But it's coming down

But I feel so alive

It had always been your dream to be a famous singer, but so far the closest thing you had to fame was being adored at Karaoke Nights at every club and bar you could find. But now, this was your big break. Someone at one of those karaoke nights owned a small up and coming bar/club, real nice and classy, and he wanted live music. A house singer, to be exact. Someone to sing there EVERY night, be adored ALL the time. Your big audition was tomorrow morning, and the “gang” had all agreed to come down and listen to your audition song at the club.

Just let me go

Just walk away

If you love someone

You never let them stay

Caught in the storm

You had been making sure you made eye contact with everyone during the song, dancing and twirling on the stage gleefully. You were losing yourself in the song, the lyrics speaking to you, as the bridge came up.

Let me wash away

You can find me after the flood

Let me wash away

The piano cut out for a moment after the crescendo, lightly dancing notes out of it now, leaving you in your head about the song’s meaning.

Caught in the storm

Caught in the rain

Caught in the rush that hides this pain

You didn’t even think, you just sang the last lines looking STRAIGHT into Rafael Barba’s eyes.

If you love someone

You find a way to stay

Caught in the storm

Suddenly you heard Kelsey clear her throat VERY loudly as she played the end of the song and you realized what you had been doing. You quickly looked down at the floor, praying to God no one noticed it.

Hmmm…..

You sang the last note to the floor, then looked up with the biggest fake smile you could and curtsied awkwardly while you turned to Kelsey and nodded for her to follow you as you bolted backstage.

“Tell me you didn’t notice anything at the end,”

“Oh you mean when you basically stared holes into the ADA’s eyes when you sang YOU LOVE SOMEONE?” She asked. “Oh yeah no, totally unnoticeable,” she added sarcastically.

“Fuuuuccccccccckkkkkkk…..”

“Y’all, WHAT was that?!” Kenny suddenly came from offstage to join the conversation. “Y/N, Girl were you drinking before this or just taking stupid pills?”

“I can’t...I’m not going to deal with this right now,” You waved them both away and walked out to face your “family”.

“Oooookay well, it’s totally getting late and I appreciate you guys hearing me out, get home safe!” You awkwardly spit out a million words a minute, looking around the room above everyone’s eyelines. It was like Stevie Wonder was giving them a goodbye spiel.

You quickly turned on your heels to bolt backstage and wait it out until they left, but the last voice you wanted to hear spoke up.

“Don’t you wanna hear our opinions, baby girl?”

You sighed and turned slowly to face all of them, their faces mostly super uncomfortable. You looked to Fin, who had made you stay.

“Yeah, sure-- go for it,” You threw your hand up dejectedly and waited for the drop.

“Well I’d say it was excellent, except for the part where you were eye fucking Barba,”

And there it was.

“FIN!” Olivia hit him, the rest of the squad squirming uncomfortably. You didn’t dare to see what Rafael was doing.

“Yep, there it is,” You rolled your eyes, starting to walk away.

“Where are you going Y/N, we’re gonna talk about this!” He started angrily walking after you.

“Talk about WHAT, Fin?” You spun around.

“Have you been screwing Barba behind my back?” He narrowed his eyes at you.

“WHAT?! NO!” You gasped in horror.

“NO,” Rafael added almost on top of you.

“He has nothing to do with it, Fin,” You assured him.

“Good because you and him, NEVER gonna happen,” He gestured between the two of you.

“Okay FIRST of all, I love you Fin but I’m a grown woman and you can’t tell me who to date!” You scoffed.

“Oh please Y/N you’re 22, you’re still my baby--”

“And SECONDLY,” You interrupted him. “I’m not ACTUALLY your daughter, so you don’t get an opinion,”

“And THIRDLY, I really, REALLY don’t want to have a long conversation with ANY of you about how I just professed my love for Rafael on--”

“Love? You’re in love with him now?” Fin interjected again, turning to Rafael. “What did you do?!”

“Oh my god, FIN,” You stood in between them. “He didn’t do anything, this is all on me,”

“This is insane, you are NOT--” Fin tried to start bitching at you once again, but Kenny came to the rescue.

“Dad, just let them be. She’s right this ain’t any of our business, no matter how angry you are right now okay? Just...let’s go, yeah?”

“Yeah alright…” Fin nodded to Kenny, then turned to you. “We’re going to talk tomorrow,”

“Can’t wait,” You muttered under your breath as they walked outside. Finally over that little debacle you started to make a beeline for the backdoor when you heard another voice you really didn’t want to.

“Y/N….Don’t you think we need to talk?”

You turned back to see Rafael standing there with a concerned look on his face. Awesome. You looked behind him noticing the rest of the squad waving goodbye at you and excusing themselves, leaving you and him alone.

“You know I really need to get some sleep before tomorrow, and--” You started to walk away, but Rafael grabbed your hand.

“Y/N…”

“What?!” You spun around again, now angry and tears in your eyes.

“What, Rafael? Unless the next words out of your mouth are ‘Gee you know what Y/N I didn’t realize it until this very second, but I’m in love with you too!’, then I REALLY don’t need to hear it, trust me,”

“Y/N come on, just talk to me,”

“Rafael I get it,” You bit back tears.

“You’re too old, or Fin’s too much of your friend, and I never should have said anything, but I did. But I’ve got the biggest audition of my LIFE tomorrow. So what I’d really like to do right now is go home, cry, drink and forget this night ever happened so that I can just focus on that, can I do that? Please?”

“I…” Rafael dropped your hand, but still looked at you with puppy dog eyes. “Yeah, I guess so,”

“Thank you,” You nodded to Kelsey who followed you out the back door, leaving Rafael alone in the dark and empty club.

----------

"Role Model" or TBD

“Shit, he’s going to kill me,” You muttered as you glanced at your phone. You were already twenty minutes late to Kenneth's party, and you were still stuck in traffic about a block away.

“You know what, I can walk from here,” You nodded to your UBER driver and exited the car, running down to the bar. You finally made it, glancing at the neon sign: BUDDY’S. It was you and your best friend’s favorite bar, and now you were late for his party.

You quickly gave the doorman your name and he nodded you in. The place was packed, per usual. You didn’t see anyone you recognized so you headed up to the bar and ordered a Porn Star Martini while you texted Kenny to see where he was.

“Oh my God do you think she knows?”

“She showed up so I’m guessing not,”

You glanced over to see two classmates from your law school a few feet away. They were clearly drunk and speaking louder than they believed they were.

“I can hear you, morons,” You rolled your eyes as the bartender handed you your drink.

“Oh! Y/N,” The first one giggled as they both stumbled over. “Sorry, we didn’t see you there,”

“Right,” You gave them a sarcastic smile. “And what exactly don’t I know?”

“That--” The other one started, but someone tapped you on the shoulder.

“Kenneth! Happy birthday! I’m so sorry I’m late it’s--”

“Please don’t kill me,” He cut you off.

“...Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

“No, I’m saying it to you, and I’m saying it again. Please don’t kill me, and I’d like to add I had NO idea this was going to happen,”

“What are you talking about?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I, um-- I invited my dad,”

“You invited your dad, to a gay club?” You sipped your drink with a skeptical look.

“I mean I mentioned it to him, I didn’t think he’d actually show up,”

“Okay so, what? You think your dad’s gonna cramp our style or--”

“He brought his friends,” He added with a very serious tone.

“...What do you mean, he brought his friends?” Your heart started racing.

“What do you think I mean?”

“Hey Hey party people-- OH. Y/N! You came!” Your other best friend Gabi walked up with shots.

“Give me that,” You stole the shot and took it immediately, the familiar burn of vodka travelled down your throat.

“Nice to see you too,” She snorted, then noticed Kenneth’s face. “Oh you told her, didn’t you?”

“Told me what?” You asked, praying to God you didn’t know the answer already.

“I think you know,” Kenneth gave you another apologetic look.

“We’re in the back,” Gabi grabbed your hand and pulled you through the crowd.

“Who’s we--” You started to ask, but then you saw them. At the back of the club, in a small secluded area with plush couches and a table sat a couple of your mutual friends, his dad Fin Tutola, and the entire squad of NYC SVU.

“I’m going to--” You growled under your breath.

“Please don’t kill me,” He whispered back.

“I won’t if you tell me tweedle dee and tweedle ditz haven’t been running their mouths off back here,”

“NO,” Kenneth almost yelled. “I have kept those vultures away from here all night, but--” He glanced over at the two girls who were obviously failing at flirting with the very gay men at the bar. “You know they’re just waiting to take you down,”

“So we’ll just wait them out,” Gabi shrugged as she came back from the bar with more shots. “Or, y’know shuffle him out the back door,”

“Shut up,” You took another shot from the tray and downed it.

“Are you really sure you wanna--?” Kenneth asked as you downed a second one.

“If I’m about to come face to face with the man of my dreams for the first time ever, YEAH Kenny, I’m pretty sure I do,”

“Man of your dreams,” Gabi scoffed playfully behind you.

“Shut up!” You hit her again. “He’s beautiful, he’s perfect, he’s--”

“Sitting RIGHT there,” Ken gestured to the group of “adults” now very much staring at your trio.

“Show time,” Gabi giggled as you nervously followed Ken to their group.

“Dad, you remember Y/N,” Ken nodded to you.

“Yeah, the lawyer right?” Fin asked, making Rafael’s ears perk up; he stared right into your eyes while you swore up and down you would NOT pass out in front of a whole club full of people.

“Law student,” You nervously responded, trying to keep your eyes on Fin.

“Well this is Rafael, Barba, our ADA. Maybe you’ve heard of him?” As soon as Fin introduced Rafael to your group, Gabi let out a very loud laugh. You elbowed her so hard she almost fell over back into the crowd.

“Sorry…” She made a face at you.

“...Is that a yes?” Fin asked in confusion.

“Nick, Sonny!” Ken suddenly yelled at the two men sitting next to Fin and Barba. “This is my best friend Y/N!”

They both waved politely, but you caught them scanning your body up and down with approving smiles. Had Rafael done that? You had been too embarrassed to look. Did he approve?

“Boy you are so rude, we were in the middle of a--” Fin started again.

“This is Olivia and Amanda, our partners,” Nick suddenly interjected. “Just so you know, they’re not our girlfriends,” He emphasized.

“Subtle, Amaro,” Sonny snickered. “You’ll have to excuse him miss, he’s already had a few,”

“Are we all introduced now? Are we good?” Fin looked at each of his compadres who nodded and went back to their conversation, but you noticed Olivia looking between you and Barba.

“So I’m guessing you do know--”

“Y’know Fin, I think it’s pretty obvious she knows who he is,”

“Liv!” Rafael looked over at her with his mouth agape, shocked she was being so aggressive. “Annnnddd no more drinks for you,” He took the wine out of her hand.

“This cannot be happening…” You looked up at the sky and muttered to no one in particular.

“I’m going to get a refill,” You suddenly excused yourself, having downed your beverage in 2.5 seconds. As soon as you were gone, Kenneth hit his dad.

“Really, dad?”

“What? Does she not like him or something?” Fin was completely obtuse.

“Oh no she REALLY likes him--” Gabi started to laugh again but stopped immediately when she saw Kenneth’s death stare.

“I don’t understand how she even knows who I am?” Rafael looked between the two of them.

“Law school, term papers, I don’t know,” Kenneth shrugged, not entirely sure how you got your obsession with Rafael Barba started. “All I know is that she has a huge thing for you, and she told me that in confidence,”

“Barba?” Nick suddenly yelled, only hearing the last part of the conversation.

“She has a thing for Barba?!”

Were the first words to greet you as you rejoined the group, new drink in hand.

“Oh my GOD, Kenny?!” You screeched. “You--You TOLD them?”

Your eyes darted between Kenny, Amaro and Barba. You didn’t know what to do, or say. You wanted to scream, throw up and run away all at the same time.

“NO!!! No, Y/N look I--”

“Save it,” You threw your fresh drink in Kenny’s face and stormed back into the crowd.

“Thanks, Amaro,” Kenny sighed as he grabbed napkins to dry his face. Rafael looked to where you had run off to, then to Kenny, then to Fin.

“Should I--?”

“Oh good GOD no, please don’t,” Kenny assured him. “I’ll go get her, it’s my fault,” He sighed and ran through the crowd after you.

#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you #rafael barba imagine #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu fanfiction #tinyboxxtink

[palukoo]

ooh amy and toby because i would die for them

okay i know you sent others before this one but i really wanna answer this one! i meant to just... write about basically what i've said before with their unique combinations of idealism and cynicism but also with the vast difference in loyalty and also their similar political positions, but then i spent all afternoon uh. writing this.

amy and toby meet on some doomed campaign that he's running, and she's fundraising for, and they both know it's doomed but that doesn't stop them from trying. she tells him it is, at some point, and he knows she's right but won't say it, because it's different. amy's consulting for a dozen campaigns this election cycle, and toby's got one, and he likes amy, but she doesn't get to say that about his one.

they bring amy in for debate prep, at the candidate's request, and toby sits back and smiles a little at the hopefully-but-doubfully future senator's comprehensive answer until amy starts eviscerating the woman's answers. she does it with an awkward, regretful smile, and the candidate adjusts, and toby asks amy to step out into the hall, asks if she has a problem with their policies. amy says no, she loves their policies and that's why she's doing what she can to give them a shot. toby laughs bitterly.

"you said yourself that we don't have a shot! we're trying to talk about issues and you're taking the only place we can do that and have people listen and turning it into pithy soundbites like every other guy!"

"the pithy soundbites might stick," she says, mostly unfazed. "let me try to give you a shot. she thinks she has a shot."

he sighs. "yeah."

the candidate loses, 41-57. before amy had started working with them more, polls were at 30-62.

*

they run into each other, after that, both of them with tendencies towards certain candidates. amy's associated with more winning campaigns than toby is by a long shot, but she's never run one, winning or otherwise.

amy's talking to a candidate she's excited about for maryland's fifth district, who's leading against the old, far too moderate and out of touch incumbent in her primaries. andy wyatt. and then toby's beside her.

"oh, hey, amy, this is toby, he's my--"

"you're working with her?" amy asks teasingly before andy can finish. "but she might actually win."

toby laughs. "yeah, no, don't worry, i haven't lost my touch yet. i'm her fiancé, not her campaign manager."

amy tries to keep the surprise from her face. "you two know each other?" andy asks.

"we've worked together before. congratulations, by the way," amy says. toby smiles awkwardly. "don't let him anywhere near your campaign," she teases.

"don't let her anywhere near your speeches," he quips back. amy laughs.

*

it's catching up and some unofficial consulting in the primaries that amy would really rather stay mostly out of even though she has a clear favorite. she meets abbey and liz at a starbucks that was a little diner the last time she was in town, and they bring her back to "campaign headquarters" after bribing her with coffee and using their trademarked bartlet charm. which is really what will help him more than anything, at this point.

she laughs when she gets to the office and sees him bouncing a ball against the wall. "toby ziegler. i should've guessed that you'd be on this campaign."

he doesn't question her presence, just sighs. "because it's doomed?"

she beams at him, shaking her head. "because it's good."

his lips twitch into something resembling a smile, and she turns around to abbey and liz.

"with him and governor bartlet--"

"you can call him jed, y'know," abbey says. amy can't, actually.

"well, with the two of them, you're gonna need to find someone less... long winded."

he sighs and glares, and then his brow furrows. "why the hell are you drinking an iced coffee?"

*

she runs into them right after they've won the primary, which means everyone's uncharacteristically excited, meaning josh unthinkingly drags her along to their party, and jed kisses her cheek, and toby, by some miracle, hugs her and cj laughs and hugs her, too.

"you and toby get along?" she asks, surprised. amy shrugs and turns to toby, who also looks deeply noncommittal. cj laughs again.

the giddiness of the room gets to her. "i admire his integrity and his politics," she says, and there it is again, that vague, almost smile, brighter with the new victory.

"when he recruited me for this campaign, he called emily's list 'that women's group with the dumb name'," cj says to her, and amy turns back to him, suddenly far less admiring.

"dumb name. not dumb... mission, dumb name," he defends. she stands down, a little. "so, what have you been up to lately?”

"i'm political director for emily's list," she says, and he opens his mouth and closes it, and cj laughs again.

*

when the general election rolls around in november, amy collects bets from coworkers and friends and really whoever. she can't help but admire that toby only bets on losing candidates, but she also knows it doesn't matter to him. he won the thing that mattered.

*

"did you know?" he asks, tense.

"what?"

"that-- you've known the bartlet's forever. you... did you know?"

amy shakes her head, and forces her face into a neutral expression. "no, i didn't."

"are you--"

"i didn't run his campaign, toby. i voted for him, and i would've done it either way. and i'm not sure i'm in the majority there, and i'm glad he's there, so... i'm not mad."

he laughs bitterly. "you admire my integrity?"

"didn't say i shared it," she says plainly.

"you're not mad none of them told you?" he asks after a moment.

she takes in a breath and nods slightly. "well," she says like a concession. "mostly i'm worried," she admits, and toby nods, too.

"about him or the election?"

amy doesn't answer. she doesn't need to. he knows as well as she does that it's both.

*

"hey, amy, that speech you gave last week," he says when she runs into him in the hall. "did you write it yourself?"

"yeah."

"i could tell," he says, condescending and teasing at once. she rolls her eyes.

"nice job with the president's remarks yesterday," she says back.

"that was sam."

"yeah, i know. i could tell."

*

"i don't want to have this conversation with you," he says, and her eyes narrow.

"okay."

"not 'cause it's you, 'cause you're actually... i just don't want to have this conversation."

"toby, did something happen?"

he shakes his head and looks at the floor. "josh really cares about you."

she scoffs, disbelieving in a couple ways. "got it."

"amy--"

"as much as i agree that josh really can't take care of himself, he really doesn't need your protection from me, if that's what this is."

toby nods, and amy hopes they'll never talk about that again.

*

working with stackhouse reminds her of the old campaigns she's run into toby on, and it almost makes her nostalgic, except for the part where she's still mad at him, because he knew as well as josh did that the marriage incentives were shit. he knew as well as josh did that they could've made a play other than the one that forced her to resign.

still. she knows that if there's anyone as proud of the president's answer on needle exchange as she is, it's toby.

*

sam's campaign really feels like the old days once they’re in it, mishap after mishap, impossible odds, her trying to get funding while toby coaches him on remarks. she feels bad, having talked him into this, knowing he wouldn't win.

toby's used to the loss, she knows, but he's not used to this one. she buys them both drinks and gets on a plane to start her new job.

*

her first day, after the ceremony, after every exhausting, impossible thing, she still finds herself going back to her office. there's an unpleasant banging sound coming from inside when she gets there, and she'd be more concerned were it not for the secret service and her exhaustion.

she steps inside, ready for whatever new prank josh has set up, but instead it's just cj and toby putting her diplomas back up on her wall.

*

it's a week or so before she catches up and remembers to congratulate toby and andy, but neither of them hold it against her.

it's another few weeks before she leaves, and for that, she's sure he does.

*

"rafferty's speech was really good," she says casually. he nods vaguely in agreement. "toby," she says.

"what?"

"i could tell," she says pointedly, and he sighs. "you should've... i like getting women elected, you know."

"i don't need your help," he says confidently. she rolls her eyes.

"your track record--"

"she's not trying to win, amy," he says insistently, and she shrugs.

"neither was the president at first."

he exhales. "the debates have been better than i expected. santos did well."

she shrugs, and he rolls his eyes.

"i could tell, too."

*

she knows it's stupid, but here she is, so. she hits the buzzer.

"hello?" he asks.

"it's amy."

"wh-- why the hell are you here?"

"i'm not associated directly with the white house or the campaign, toby, just let me up."

there's a long pause where he doesn't say anything, but then the door clicks open. he opens his door when she knocks, and she hands him an iced coffee with a grin. "you didn't answer my question," he says.

"i'm... not mad at you," she says. he squints.

"okay."

"i get why everyone else is," she adds.

"okay. you're still not answering."

she sighs. "i thought you'd want to know that."

"i don't care if you're mad at me," he says gruffly, a bit rude.

"okay," she says, unaffected. "i also... don't want to have this conversation with you."

"what?"

"josh really cares about you," she echoes. he laughs humorlessly.

"i think josh wants to kill me right now."

she smiles. "that's another thing we often have in common," she teases.

"what's the first thing?"

she rolls her eyes and doesn't answer.

*

"should you really be calling me?" he asks.

"i know for a fact that both josh and donna call you. plus, congratulations, you're free."

"and you aren't anymore. didn't think you'd take it."

"i didn't, either," she admits.

"what are you calling about?"

"sam said you knew congressman johnson pretty well. i want him to swing with us for a vote."

*

"how are the kids?" she asks, and he smiles, which makes her smile, too.

"good. they're good."

"good. how's andy? do you... are you and cj talking again?"

he nods. "yeah, they're both... you talk to both of them more than you talk to me."

"and when i do, i ask about you," she counters.

"they're good. how're things there? josh, sam, donna?"

she laughs. "you talk to all of them more than you talk to me." she waits for his eyeroll. "they're all good. things are... you know how things are."

"not as much as you do."

"you can guess."

"yeah."

*

"how's teaching?"

he huffs. "college kids can't write."

"you don't think anyone can write."

"i think sam can write. i think will can write, on a rare good day. whoever you guys have is... fine."

"a glowing recommendation. i'll be sure to pass it along," she teases. otto probably would be flattered, really. "what's up?"

"how are your internals looking?"

she laughs. "did josh cut you off?"

he sighs. "maybe."

*

"i have some notes," he says.

"on... what?"

"the book," he says, like it's obvious.

"well, considering that it's been, a, published, and b, selling quite well, i think it's a little late," she says, arrogant and exasperated.

"i agree. you should've sent me the draft first."

she laughs. "content or style?"

"the content's great. you make good points, and it's compelling, and... it's very..." he trails off and sighs, and she takes the compliment. "it's too pithy."

she rolls her eyes. "how's yours coming along? how many pages so far?"

he pauses. "touché."

*

she's just finished a guest lecture when she gets the call, and she's surprised, a little, by the name on caller id. it's been a while. they'd had less to talk about, other than comments on each other's books, since she'd left the white house and started going back to lobbying and fundraising and debate prep between campaigns for old friends. though, when she thinks about it, it could be that last one.

"hey, toby," she answers.

"hey. so, rafferty's running again," he says.

she smiles. she's always liked rafferty. "okay." she thinks about it. "you... want help fundraising?"

he laughs. "amy. she wants to win this time." he pauses. "you should come up to new hampshire with us."

she gets a plane ticket.

#this almost certainly has mistakes bc i just. wrote it but go with it #i wrote nothing about josh and jed getting shot bc toby and amy would not talk about that with each other thank you #same with gaza tbh #asks #answered #claudiasjeancregg #tww #amy gardner #toby ziegler

[autumnslance]

Fic Writer Meme

Tagged by: @elveny​ and @illegiblewords​.

Tagging: Whoever wants to, including YOU.

Name

Fandoms

Most popular oneshot

Most popular multichapter

Actual worst part of writing

How you choose your titles

Do you outline

Ideas I probably won’t get around to, but wouldn’t it be nice?

Callouts @ Me

Best writing traits

Spicy Tangential Opinion

Name: Online I go mostly by LynMars, sometimes with a 79 appended depending on availability. Some guildies still refer to me by my old WoW char names. On Discord I often add this blog to my handle and keep the characters in my note.

Fandoms: Right now just FFXIV. I debate rewriting and reposting some of my old WoW stories. I haven't written for other fandoms I peek at. I mostly hold fandom at arm's length.

Most popular oneshot: Depending on metrics used, on Ao3 it'd be "A Constant Distant Thunder", my fic on Thancred's recovery in the ARR patch series, up to the Slyphlands events (and referencing quests that sadly no longer exist in game).

On Tumblr it's "Rules for a Warrior of Light" followed by "Never Gets Easier." Both are on Ao3 as well, the former in “Ruminations” the latter by itself.

Most popular multichapter: I only have a couple true multichapter fics featuring an actual coherently plotted story; I have several compilation fics of scenes over time held together by a theme.

For my few actual multichapters, "Rogue's Prelude" is going to be the clear winner. I do want to write more, and it’ll likely be another Damned Rogue piece.

Depending on metrics, "Downtime" and "Unexpected" are neck and neck, but they are compilations, not true multichapter stories.

Actual worst part of writing: Starting something, not getting too impatient and skipping or cutting necessary elements, then actually editing and deciding it's finished and being brave enough to post it, or not hampering myself with "well but I want to write other things in order and..."

The whole process has its highs and lows.

How you choose your titles: Really depends. Sometimes I have the title before anything else. Sometimes it's obvious. Many times I'm struggling to find something pithy that works. Sometimes what I think is the draft's working title so I know how to find it in my docs ends up becoming the real title after all; usually it changes, though.

Do you outline: Depends. For longer works, yeah; there'll be something resembling an outline. This can be for multichapters or simply longer/heavier one shots, like "A Constant Distant Thunder" or "Return to Dreams of Ice" where there are certain scenes and/or elements I want to ensure I've figured out.

For most prompts or one-shots, though, I don't really worry about outlining. I may jot notes down, especially when taking a break, so I recall what I want to say/do next, but it's generally not a huge thing.

Even when I do outline, it's more some rambling notes to myself.

Ideas I probably won’t get around to, but wouldn’t it be nice?: So many. I can't even think of them all. And some of them will likely get reworked into other stories anyway.

Sometimes I think of AUs, but I'm not a big AU fan, but it's one of those 'wish I had the bent toward that' sometimes.

Callouts @ Me: Hey, a lot of those WIPs and drafts ARE as ready as they're gonna get and should be posted to “Living Memory”, “Unexpected”, or just go ahead and make threads for Aeryn's adventures as the WoL each expac. Procrastinating just because it's not in a linear order is silly.

Best writing traits: I dunno? I'm bad at gauging myself, really. I guess I'm good at dialogue and getting into characters' heads to make them sound believably close to canon and existing as people in their world.

Spicy Tangential Opinion: I dunno; my opinions tend to change as I gather more information and perspectives, and that's a good thing. I can be wrong about topics and people and shift my mindset and expectations accordingly. When I don't, it often leads to hurt on one end or another. I mostly try to be chill these days because most of the time fandom is just not worth getting worked up about, even if I hate an opinion or dislike a person. I can easily just Unfollow/Block/Mute/Scroll Past/Ignore, it costs nothing--especially my own time, energy, and emotional stress. It's taken me too long to learn that and I still can slip up sometimes.

I guess that's my spicy opinion, given modern Fandom and social media.

#Lyn Meta #Lyn Prompts #Writing #About Me #Blogging #Memes

[sarcasmisakindofmagic]

Red sky in morning

Part 1/?

Pairing: TBC (seriously guys, spoilers)

Warnings: alcoholism, PTSD mentions, Tom is a real boy.

A/N: It has been a minute but I had an idea that just wouldn’t quit. Let me know what you think <3

“He’s an alcoholic, Pope.”

Pope didn’t believe you anymore the second time you said it, snorting a laugh.

“Redfly? Nah, he’s always been about control, planning every moment.” Santi’s teeth flashed white as he grinned but his eyes stayed flat missing the spark of humour you remembered.

“Molly divorced him over it. He was driving the girls to dance class and wrapped the car round a telephone pole.” You glanced away from the road, trying to see how serious he was about recruiting Redfly. “Not sure how in control you’d call that.”

“He didn’t say anything when I asked.” Santi snapped back at you.

“Oh sure, that’s gonna go down well. Sorry Pope, can’t relive the glory days. I start my days with a six pack of beer and end them staring at empty bottles of whiskey.” You mocked, mimicking Tom’s voice crudely, not in the mood to play he said, they said. You pulled into the parking lot, slipping out of the cab before Pope could shoot some pithy comment about the bond of brothers. You’d never asked what crazy shit the government had asked them to do and frankly you didn’t want to know.

You did know it didn’t excuse Tom’s behaviour the last few years. Molly had been in tears too many times while dropping the girls off at your condo for you to forgive him because he wouldn’t see anybody about his trauma

Not to mention-

“Pope!” Benny sent your train of thought violently off the rails, near jumping Santi as you both entered the dressing room. You’d barely noticed you’d arrived. Will touched a hand to your shoulder taking a second to meet your eyes and wink, before scolding Benny into focusing for the match.

“You ok, querida?” Frankie asked quietly, pushing off the lockers to stand just behind your shoulder, heat sinking into the tense muscles letting you relax slightly.

“He asked about Tom.” You replied, too on edge to lie. Frankie lifted his hand to rest on the base of your spine, not giving ground when you pressed into it. “I only told him about Molly and the drink.”

Frankie huffed, thumb rubbing soothing arcs.

“You don’t think that’s enough?” He asked. You turned you head to look at him. His eyes were such a soft shade of brown, or maybe it was just the understanding in them. Frankie had never pushed it, always hanging back to watch your six.

“Will.” You shrugged, it wasn’t an accusation, not quite, but it was enough for Frankie’s gaze to fill with resignation. His thumb stilled, tips of his fingers digging in slightly. You were right after all, Will wasn’t going to let the chance of saving his old commander go, even if that meant vanishing on some crazy mission to South America.

Frankie opened his mouth but it was Santi’s voice that spoke.

“Hey, Cabrón! What you can’t say hello?”

You stepped round Pope, ruffling Benny’s hair before you kissed his cheek.

“So… 50 the other guy wins was what you said, right Will?” You asked cheerily, reaching for levity and ending up sounding a little mean.

Benny just stuck his tongue out though, swiping at your ribs in retaliation.

“Fucking dick.” It was unclear whether he meant you or Will so you opted for insulted.

“Takes one to know one, Miller!” You grinned, dodging the half hearted jab at your shoulder, retaliating by poking him in the stomach.

Will stepped between the two of you.

“Stop distracting him.” He ordered, attempting for stern and landing on brotherly irritation.

You flapped a hand unconcerned. “You said that about his SAT prep as well. He’ll go out there and nail it.”

Will raised a brow, slowly ushering you out of the changing room.

“And if he doesn’t, I win fifty dollars.” You announced brightly, taking off down the corridor as Benny sent vicious swear words floating after you.

You had cold cider and a ringside seat by the time, the boys finally showed up. They settled next to you with various grunts and groans, all calling for beer at one time or another.

You felt Pope tense next to you as Tom put his request in, before he immediately relaxed. You pointedly didn’t look at him, only reacting when he deliberately spilled beer on your leg. The grunt he let out when your elbow met his kidney was very satisfying.

You stood to scream for Benny, still finding it weird to watch the kid you’d known since you were four and having a chickenpox party was now a fighter, for a living.

“Yeah, take it off!” You yelled as he slipped off the thin robe, laughing when he flipped you off without looking. You sat back down, drinking your cider as the ref and ring girls set about whipping the crowd into a frenzy for the start of the fight. You looked round the audience noting who was already drunk enough to be swaying and who was actually invested in the fight. A few guys looked desperate, gaze swinging between the fighters and the more ominous bookies lingering near the exits.

Tom bellowed for Benny as the fight started, making you flinch and drop your cup. The last mouthful landing on Pope’s boot and your bare calf.

He turned but said nothing, kicking the cup under the bench out of the way.

Frankie’s hand settled on your lower back again as he made himself bigger, blocking out the crowd on your left and letting you lean into him slightly. Your hand curled into his jacket, refocusing on the fight and cheering for Benny.

“COME ON!” Tom yelled, cussing the ref out as he made a call against Benny. You jumped again, almost swearing when you felt Pope’s gaze land on you. You could feel it, just glimpse the calculating expression out the corner of your eye.

“Will, I thought you were training him to win?” You blurted out as Benny hit the deck, only just scrambling to his feet as his opponent loomed over him. It wasn’t really banter but it would have to do to stop Pope looking your way.

“Fuck off, Jet.” Will’s voice was tight, he hadn’t liked letting Benny fight his win battles in school either. The Miller brothers came as pair whether you fought them in school or on the battlefield. He stepped forward to coach his brother, trying to get him to focus through what was most likely a concussion.

You followed, waiting until Will was done before grabbing Benny’s jaw to make him look at you.

“You win, you get one favour, no holds barred.” You bribed shamelessly, watching his gaze sharpen and hone in on you. A smug grin appearing.

“Thought you bet against me.” He mumbled through the mouth guard. You rolled your eyes.

“Benny, I haven’t bet against you since kindergarten.” You patted his cheek condescendingly. “Now go win me a hundred dollars.”

He executed a sloppy salute, shaking his head to get him back in the fight.

“You haven’t offered him a favour in a while.” Will said, voice clear even over the ruckus. It had been at least five years still the last time you’d bribed Benny with a favour.

“He puked all over my car, me, and then my bed when he got me to play taxi driver for a month.” You reminded Will, pausing to cheer as Benny landed a solid right hook. “It’s taken years of therapy to forgive him.”

Will laughed.

“You forgave the moment he did it.” He countered knowingly. “You just wanted him to earn your forgiveness.”

You faltered for a moment, remembering the last time Will had spoken to you about forgiveness. The crowd erupted as Benny threw both hands in the air, Frankie and Pope surging forward to congratulate Will, hooking you into the hug on the way.

You met Tom’s gaze over Frankie’s soldier, stomach tightening when he looked away guiltily.

Benny wasn’t the one who needed forgiveness.

#Triple Frontier #Frankie Morales #Santiago Garcia #santiago pope garcia #frankie catfish morales #reader fic #It will either be #santiago garcia x reader #frankie morales x reader #I think I know #but sometimes the fic goes where it wants to go #ella wrote a thing

[syms-things-5]

Clear The Area - Chapter Fifteen (Part Two)

**A Chris Evans Story**

Previous Chapter Here

Tags: @jennmurawski13 @kelbabyblue

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, strong language, generally a bit awkward

Notes: This is a long chapter, sorry. Any comments welcome, good and bad.

Chapter Fifteen (Part Two)

“Let me just bring up your booking here, one moment please.”

The lobby of The Langham was an ocean of grey and blue. The sun was shining brightly outside, the hottest day of the year so far, and it reflected in every surface of the space and accompanying bar. It was sparse on the usual detailing, instead preferring a minimalist approach; the check-in desk consisted of a mere iPad and one lily artfully growing from a tall, geometrical glass vase. Random art hung from all sides. One looked vaguely like a donkey, Sarah was sure. There was also what she thought was an ash tray balanced on a pillar to the left of where she was standing but she didn’t dare to investigate it any closer in case it cost the price of a small car.

It had the same over-perfumed odour as the fragrance section of a Macy’s. The tiled floor look so clean and fresh you could be forgiven for thinking it had only just been laid that very morning. Sarah felt a pang of guilt walking in wearing her scuffed Converse. She always felt so out of place in places like this. It was the kind of place she would run a mile from if she had the choice but Greg had an “in” with the manager and now here she was. 

“So that will be four nights in our Executive Suite with Central Park view. You also have the bar allowance of $150 per night. You just need to take the elevator up to the 32nd floor and it’s the second door on your left. Would you like a hand with your bags, madam?” She motioned for the concierge to come over but held her hand up when she spied the puzzled look on Sarah’s face.

“I’m really sorry but I think there’s been some kind of mistake. I didn’t book a suite, just a standard double and I don’t think I pre-paid for any bar allowance. I didn’t even know I could do that to be honest.” Sarah chuckled awkwardly in an attempt to diffuse the tension but it fell on deaf ears. She handed the key card back to the lady, unsure of what else to suggest.

The lady showed practically no emotion at the possible mistake and simply took another look at her records before confirming that she was in fact correct with the initial room choice. “It’s definitely your suite, and...everything is paid for in advance. Could it have been made on your behalf? It looks like it was upgraded yesterday afternoon.”

Sarah wasn’t sure if she was asking her a question or telling her. She couldn’t believe she wasn’t biting her hand off but she hoped she hadn’t made some kind of horrific error her bank wouldn’t forgive her for. She could barely afford the double room she’d booked as it was and she’s sure the college wouldn’t have upgraded her without letting her know in advance. It made zero sense. They couldn’t have that kind of money going spare, putting students up in posh suites. She had no clue what could have happened.

Unless...Chris?

No, it wouldn’t be. He was less than pleased to hear she’d be away as it was. Except...well, who else? Sarah rolled her eyes a little too obviously before accepting the key card back. “That’s OK. I think I know what’s happened. It’s only the one bag. I can manage it.”

The lady nodded her thanks and, smiling politely, pointed her back towards the elevators. Sarah couldn’t move away from her fast enough.

Arriving at her floor, Sarah emerged from the lift expecting someone to come running up to her to confirm that they had in fact made a horrendous mistake. She slipped the key card into her door before pushing her way in to find her new home for the week.

The bedroom was large, uncomfortable so, with the bed positioned just off the middle in the room. Sarah figured the designer for a psychopath. It was big but not as empty as the lobby would have had her believe. In fact, it seemed reassuringly cosy despite the windows, so many windows stretching around the suite. There was a soft blue curved sofa opposite a screen that she’d seen smaller versions of in a cinema. Cushions fucking everywhere and fluffy white slippers she’d probably never take off again.

Everything seemed to be controlled from an iPad set in a stand by the bedroom door; the lights, the curtains, the air freshener, some background music for ambiance if she wanted. The windows tinted darker to block out the sunlight. Even the $1300 coffee machine was remote controlled; she had recognised it from the last edition of Home & Country Jocelyn had mailed to her, the exact one Shanna had been dropping hints about to Chris as a potential Christmas present.

The lounge offered her the clearest view of Central Park and with the light at this time in the afternoon, it was beyond stunning. She snapped a picture and considered texting it to Shanna but thought better of drawing attention to where she was staying. There was no way she could pass this off as a standard room even with her best efforts.

It was almost a shame to waste all of this on just herself. This room deserved romance, she thought.

Around the same time, Chris was on his third beer of the afternoon and lounging on his sofa. He had a new script in one hand, one he wasn’t particularly keen on but offered to read as a favour for a friend. He was so relaxed now that he had to re-read the last ten or so pages simply because it wasn’t landing. The whole room was lit softly by the sun outside. It had gone 4 o’clock when his phone rang disturbing the peace.

“Bernette! How was the journey?” he smiled into the phone as soon as he saw who it was.

“The bathtub is the size of my entire bathroom.” She announced, not giving him room to breathe. She heard him laugh heartily at the end of the line and could picture him looking smug and proud of himself, the dick. “I could have an orgy with the Patriots and still have room left.”

“Hey, don’t go getting any ideas.” he jostled with her. He placed the script down on the tablet to give her his full attention. “So, you like it, huh?”

“It’s...it’s absolutely gorgeous and utterly ridiculous. Seriously, dude, you did not need to do this.” She could sense his growing pride from here. “I’ve never stayed in anything like it. I have, like, a hundred towels.”

“That’s why I did it in the first place. Not for the towels, obviously, but just because you deserved something different. Something nice.” He enthused. “Don’t fight me on this, Bernette.”

“You should see the view. It’s so beautiful. I think I can see the museum.” She was stood on her tiptoes, pressed against the glass, looking at the tiny people milling around on the street so far below her. 

“i know,” he responded. “You’ll be there for a week and best to be comfortable, right?”

She didn’t want to argue with him. She was tired and extremely grateful for the kind gesture. She’d be able to enjoy the place and her time in the City more if she could firmly separate her work from any space in which she could chill out. It wasn’t like she was going to be raving all night nor have much chance to see places at this rate, so more space was probably a good thing. She hadn’t had an unbroken night’s sleep in...she couldn’t even remember when.

“Thank you, Chris.” she spoke softly after a brief pause.

“You’re welcome.”

She put her phone down on the bedside table and set about removing her clothes from her suitcase. Well, “clothes” in the loose sense. What she’d packed was basically gym gear, sweat pants, t-shirts, nothing remotely attractive, and a simple paid of black trousers for the exam day itself. Who was going to see her anyway? Shanna had thrown a jumper in the mix without her realising, dismayed at her insistence that she was not going out to bars to hook up with someone.

“But you’ll be gone the next day! It’s. The. Perfect. Crime!” Shanna had said, exasperated and throwing her hands in the air in dismay.

The majority of space in her suitcase has been taken up with journals and textbooks, ones she hadn’t see since she left medical school and had long since expected she would never see again. Funny what opportunities life threw at you when you least expected it.

She was soon feeling the push and pull of the day and had planned on spending at least a couple of hours studying that evening, so she had a clean-up and threw on the first set of sweatpants that fell out of the closet. She tied her hair up and out of her face, pulled out her notepad and switched her Macbook on. The TV was showing some repeat of a gameshow with the sound on low, more for background company than anything else, and she finally figured out how to get the coffee machine working thanks to a small tome buried inside a drawer underneath the coffee table.

Chris 9.44pm: All OK? Need company yet??

Sarah 9.45pm: I love you guys bt I can’t tell u how amazing it is having space to myself. Been a looooong day

Chris 9.51pm: ah

Chris 9.52pm: OK maybe don’t look outside your door

Momentarily confused, she rubbed at her eyes trying to come up with a pithy response.

Chris 9.56pm: well this is awkward...........

Sarah looked at the door and then back at her phone. Looking up at the door again, she unfolded her feet from underneath her and slowly walked towards it. Pulling it open, she found Chris looking up at her through his lashes, sheepishness drenching his entire body.

“OK, funny story,” he said. “But I thought this might be romantic and then I got carried away and now I’m here and I can absolutely go if you need me to...?” He half-turned his body in the direction of the elevators. “I’m so sorry, honey. I just thought it might be nice and not at all annoying but it’s annoying, isn’t it? It’s OK, you don’t need to say anything. Dammit, I really thought I pitched this right.”

“Chris, it’s fine.” Sarah finally found her voice to speak. “Honestly. I’m...I’m just really surprised is all. I was not expecting you to...drive? All this way?”

He nodded. “Yeh, I just bombed it down the ‘95.”

Awkward silence fell between them as they stared at each other unsure of what to do next. Finally picking up on the fact he remained in the hallway, a backpack thrown over his shoulder, she moved out of the way and he entered the suite. Relieved, he placed his bag down and turned to see her close the door behind him. He looked mildly embarrassed and she was all too aware she wasn’t welcoming but it was getting late and her eyes had started to hurt a little as she rubbed at them with the back of her hand.

“Fuck, that’s a long couch.” he announced, taking his black suede jacket off and placing it over the armrest nearest to him. He glanced over and saw papers strewn over the coffee table, her laptop light blaring brightly and looked back to her. She was working hard and he had ruined it.

“I am so sorry. First thing tomorrow, I’ll go home, I promise.” He held his hands up by way of an apology but she shook her head in response.

“Stop apologising.” she chuckled. “Do you want a beer?”

He nodded gratefully and looked so adorable that any annoyance she might have felt finally dissipated. “How about I give you a hug and then leave you to it? I need a shower and I can amuse myself in there for a little while. I don’t know why I just said that.”

Sarah laughed again and a little more relief moved through him. He wasn’t sure why he was feeling so nervous when he had been so confident of his decisions in the car all the way here. He’d rehearsed his lines and imagined her big smile when seeing behind the door. He had wanted to stop off and buy flowers but he was so eager to see her, he’d just kept driving. No daydream could live up to the reality of seeing her face up close.

*

He watched her from the bathroom doorway. She was cross-legged on the bed, studying the thickest textbook he’d ever seen with colour-coded notecards laid out across the duvet. He had earlier glimpsed a page over her shoulder but decided against pursuing medicine as a new career when he was faced with photographs of god knows what. He tried to remove the images from his mind by drinking another beer and thinking of Sarah in her scrubs. That tended to work well for him these days.

She looked so cute sat on the bed, her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. He wanted to come up with a joke, calm the tension a little that had grown between them in the meantime, but she looked pretty hot. More hot than usual and it was distracting. Like a sexy Librarian and for the second time this month he discovered something else he was into.

One pen was stuck behind her ear but she’d forgotten she’d put it there and was now using a different one. Her hair was tied up at the top of her head in a messy bun that she hadn’t touched since she’d arrived, more and more strands falling loosely around her as the evening wore on, framing her perfect, round face. She seemed to engrossed in what she was doing.

He was still a little wet from his shower and pondered whether she would notice if he just whipped his towel off and offered himself to her. There really wasn’t anything he wanted more at this moment in time than to have her touch him, to have her run hands gently over his chest, to tease him a little bit. There’d be some time, he reasoned, and right not it was just was exhilarating to think of her being here alongside him knowing it would be just the two of them for a little while.

He perched on the end of the bed in front of her. She barely moved, barely seemed to notice him. He took one of her blank notecards and carefully placed it on the open page so as not to lose her place. She leaned back slightly, allowing him to gather up the papers and place them in a pile on the floor besides the bed before turning back to lean in towards her, one arm stretching out across her legs. She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes again. She wanted peace and quiet and he decided to rock up just because he could. He sighed to himself. He was such a dick sometimes.

“Do you mind me being here?” he asked her, fully resigning himself to leaving if she now asked him to as hard as that might be. He’d got so caught up in his idea of surprising her that he hadn’t fully registered just how important these exams were or how well she wanted to do. Passing them wasn’t an option for Sarah; she wanted to knock it out of the park. She wanted to do better for herself and the more he got to know her like this, the more it became his favourite thing about her. And he related. He related perfectly. He knew exactly what that was like. “Cos I can go if you need me to.”

“Chris, I’ve said it’s fine. It’s nice that you’re here. I would just hate you feeling bored if all I’m doing is studying all the time.” She nervously twirled the pen between her fingers while taking in how amazing he looked following a shower, a little steam rising off his skin.

“I won’t get bored.” he assured her. “It’ll be nice hanging out with you. Just the two of us.”

He plucked the pen from behind her ears and she rolled her eyes realising the mistake she’d made. He tucked strands of hair back and leaned in placing a quick, soft kiss to her lips. He smelled like her coconut shampoo and she just now understood how truly spontaneous his trip had been.

“Listen, there’s another reason why I’m here. There’s something I need to talk to you about and I couldn’t wait until you got home.” he stroked her arm gently, looking down into her lap. “It’s been going around in my head and I’m not entirely sure what to say about it to be honest, but...it looks like Jenny’s done an interview with a magazine. A full thing with a photoshoot and stuff and it looks like I might be involved.” He closed his eyes for a second before correcting himself. “Not might actually, it’s pretty much definite that I’m in there for a large portion of it.”

“OK.” Sarah nodded. He for sure seemed weary of the whole thing and she felt for him.

“I just, I know she can be pretty unfiltered at the best of times, so-”

“-but she won’t have said anything negative, right?”

“No, no, not negative. I’m not worried about that exactly. It’s just that...” He was struggling to find the words. “I just didn’t want you to get the wrong idea about us, about me and her. I expect she’ll have this hyper-romanticised view of things and I guess I didn’t want you thinking it was some great love affair which is what I think she’ll spin it as.” He couldn’t quite meet her eye while he was talking. “I’m not proud of myself or of what I said or did at the time but I was low and she was there and it was...easy, I guess.”

He immediately regretted his choice of words. As much as he wanted Sarah to understand, he didn’t want Sarah to think he was dismissive of his relationships in this way. “Matt’s figuring out some damage control with them. Hopefully, it’ll go away as quickly as it comes.”

“You think he’ll be able to clear it up?”

Chris nodded. Matt was a formidable guy and he was assured things would look and read much better by the time it went to print. He placed his hand on her thigh and it was only now she registered just how close he was to surrounding her.  “I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve all too often but when I do, they know about it. I want to make them aware of exactly how I feel about them and I didn’t do that with her.” He dipped his head to catch her eye line. “So, when I do something for someone, it means something, y’know?”

“Yeh, of course. You’re a good guy, Chris. Everyone knows that.” She took his hand and lightly interlocked their fingers together.

“I guess I just didn’t want you worrying about her ‘cos there’s absolutely nothing there for me. Never had been.”

“You don’t need to explain this to me, I’m not going to hold anything against you.” she stroked his chin with her thumb and felt him relax into her hand. He glanced down at the mess he’d made on the floor and started picking a few things back up.

“How much left do you have to do tonight?” he whispered as his lips closed upon hers for a fleeting moment.

“I could do with finishing some notes but...half an hour, maybe?”

“I’ll hold you to that.” he kissed her again and got up from the bed, lifting her books back on top. “Just come get me when you’re done, yeh?”

*

Finishing up in the bathroom, Sarah switched off the light and moved towards the bed. She kneeled alongside Chris who was lying flat out, naked except for the duvet bunched across legs, reading what she assumed was the hotel magazine only to find upon closer inspection that it was in fact one of her medical journals. She giggled as she grabbed the moisturiser from the bedside table and began rubbing a small amount up and down her arms, regarding him as his nose creased up in apparent disgust at something he’d just read. 

“Did you know the body has ten times more microorganisms living in it than actual human cells?! That’s bacteria, Sarah. Living, gross bacteria. All over us.” he looked at her, shock and horror crossing his fine, perfect features. She wasn’t sure whether to pat him on the head or laugh.

“It’s mostly good bacteria, though. Only, like, 1% of it is bad for us.”

“And when exactly were you going to tell me about this?!”

She creased up laughing and flopped on to her side next to him. “It’s all information that’s out there for the world to see. Remind me not to tell you about eyelashes.”

“What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever removed from somebody’s ass?” he asked.

“What? Why is that always a question people want an answer to?”

“I don’t know. It’s just weird. Humans are weird.” he muttered, turning back to the pages in front of him. She was glad he had chosen one without pictures. That was the last thing she wanted to see before falling asleep.

“So, have you learned something new?” she asked, curling her legs under the duvet.

“I have. I think you should test me and if I get a question wrong, you can do whatever you like to me. Deal?” he asked, smirking. She shyly smiled and he tossed the book onto the floor. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She repeated. She watched as his eyes slowly travelled down her body. It was unreasonable how much he managed to disarm her with only a look.

His hand reached out to gently caress the side of her thigh, nudging the duvet slightly down before moving back up to her hip, a ticklish area he’d picked up on the last time they were together. He leaned in and kiss her on the side of her jaw, so feather-like and soft she barely felt it if not for his warm breath she could feel on her neck.

“You smell nice.” he whispered, looking at her from underneath his eyelashes. “We could have showered together, y’know? Save the planet?”

As much as she was getting used to the little things he would do when they were alone, rubbing her arm, tucking hair behind her ears, saying nice things about how pretty she looked, having him here in such close proximity with no else around to distract them or force them into the light...it was getting risky. Not that Chris ever pushed her, mind. He’d been nothing but understanding and respectful and she was grateful for that but also growing concerned he was perhaps a little...bored. Why else would he drive over state lines to see her. None of this was normal and the more time went by, the more she became fretful of what they were doing.

“What are you thinking about?” he kissed her shoulder. “Is it dirty? If it’s dirty, I wanna know about it.”

Sarah smiled and placed her hand on the side of his face, running her fingers gently over his beard. He’d thoroughly given up shaving but she liked how soft it still felt under her finger tips and judging by the breath he released as he closed his eyes, so did he, relaxing into her hand. He kissed her again. She was hoping he’d take charge so she could put off talking to him a little longer but instead, he refrained from pushing them any further and leaned back a little, looking into her eyes. “Talk to me.”

She could feel his hand move slowly and deliberately up her arm until he reached the back of her neck, his fingers playing with the loose strands of hair that had fallen from her messy bun. There was no getting away from this.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? It’s OK for you to tell me what you want.” She could feel his breath on her skin, his voice low and rough. His fingers moved again and she felt them touch her lips, one of them running back and forth over her lower lip until she parted them ever so slightly and his finger softly dipped inside her mouth. He seemed to like that and kissed her again, a little harder this time.

“Just keep kissing me.” she whispered, relieved that se finally got some words out.

He smiled at her, satisfied with her response, and kissed her again. Slow, wet, a kind of kiss that was full of promise of what he wanted to do and it made her whole body thrum with anticipation.

One hand now resting on the bed beside her and the other moved from her cheek back down to her thigh. She was frozen to the spot, this man focussed on her so intently, prepared to give her whatever she asked for, whatever she needed, expressing so much in a kiss that she didn’t register when her hand began moving slowly, grazing a finger ever so slightly over the waistline of her shorts.

“...and what else?”

A little more, he moved his hand until his fingers dipped inside her underwear until he felt her skin, hot to the touch. She broke the kiss momentarily to let out a breath, one hand resting on the back of his neck for leverage as he continued tenderly moving his fingers until he got to where he wanted to be. Feeling her wet for him seemed to spark something inside and she felt him push her carefully until she was lying back on the bed, head just off the pillow, and he leaned over her. He adjusted his hand ever so slightly until she could feel his fingers pressing at her entrance before moving in small circular motions, riling her up.

“Look at me, honey.” he whispered, his voice rough and turned on as he wanted her grabbing at the covers as he stroked her. She tried to but she couldn’t stop her eyes from closing again, zoned out with only his smooth and confident movements to focus on. It was almost getting too much with him hitting her at just the right spot for her to lose herself completely when, just like that, he pulled his hand away and grabbed both sides of her underwear to pull them down and off her legs. The next thing she remembered was the feel of him skilfully grabbing her from underneath her thighs, his tongue swiftly taking over.

It didn’t take long for her to feel like was she coming undone and him feeling proud of himself. She couldn’t fight it and with one arm draped across her lower tummy, he certainly had not intention of letting her get away. Any feelings of awkwardness were soon a thing of the past as she let the gentle, unbridled bliss he was giving her wash over her completely. She honestly couldn’t remember ever feeling anything like this before, she was so out of it. He was covering her completely, her wetness mixing with his own, his beard rubbing against her smooth skin adding another level of pleasure. 

She ran her fingers through his hair, messing it up. His tongue hit her clit again and again causing her to give him a short, sharp pull. His groan was so filthy and deep from within him, she felt it reverberate through her, raising goose bumps up and down her skin.

He wanted her on the edge as much as he felt he was. He wanted her to want him, to tell him exactly what she wanted him to do. He wanted her on fire. He wanted to hear her beg.

Just as she was on the edge for a second time, he stopped and blew softly across her wisps of hair. He chuckled when he heard what sounded like a quiet yet frustrated groan leave her lips, followed by a chuckle, something innocent and familiar. Her hands loosened from his hair as they stared into each other’s eyes, their mutual breathlessness the only sound they could hear.

“Does that feel good?” he whispered, the breath from his words scorching her skin. He moved his tongue just a little lower, not breaking eye contact, and she felt him dip ever so slightly inside of her, his arm wrapped around her thigh and the pad of his thumb taking care of the rest. He did this a second time, then a third, and when he returned to pressing his tongue over her clit, drawing her into his mouth, she was soon grabbing at him in any way she could in a futile attempt to take the edge off the orgasm that was coming at her like a freight train.

She was close. He knew she was so close now and he held his arms tightly around her to keep her close to him. One more swipe of his tongue right....there...and she was gone.

When her breathing even out, she slowly opened her eyes to see him move up and over her, placing soft, wet kisses on her hip, her tummy, her neck, and finally on her lips. He seemed cautious to kiss her, unsure of whether she wanted him to but she grabbed his face with both hands to pull him back down to her, kissing him as passionately as she could manage with what felt like no energy. She could taste herself and it was so much more erotic than she could ever have imagined. 

She felt him smile into the kiss as he carefully settled his body on top of hers, allowing her to wrap her legs around him. He moved the hair that was sticking to her forehead and stroked her face with one finger, gently mapping her eye and her nose and her cheek. She couldn’t reconcile this being the same man who had minutes earlier been so dominant. He had so clearly wanted to say something at that point if only his hardness hadn’t been so distracting. He mover one arm under her neck, using the other hand to move hair from where it had clung to the side of her face. Holding her as close to him as possible and feeling blissful when he felt her legs wrap around his own, he entered her and held still, enjoying the moment.

“We should’ve done this years ago.” he spoke and for a brief moment, without realising, she was pulled from their intimacy, a pang of guilt taking its place.

He was too busy pushing into her, needing whatever she had left to give him. He grabbed at the back of her neck to keep her in place, his face buried into her hair. She felt her skin heat up all over from his breath as he panted at her side. It was more frantic than he’d wanted it to be as he groaned and moaned and pushed his whole weight into her with force. It was really all she could do to just hang on to him as he fucked her deeper, as he surged towards his own orgasm, then letting go when she felt him shudder insider her minutes later. He sounded helpless and as much as he tried to hold himself up from collapsing on her, he soon gave up trying and laid his head on her shoulder.

His warm breath continued covering her skin as she ran her hand gently over the back of his head. She felt him chuckle a vibration into the top of her arm before a wet kiss landed just underneath her ear, a place he had deigned his own after he realised how sensitive she was on that particular spot.

Finally rolling off her to lie on his back, he kept his arm stretched across her lower tummy and rubbed his fingers across the apex of her thigh. She wasn’t sure how long they stayed in this position but at some point he leaned over her to turn the bedside light off plunging the room into complete darkness and they continued to lie there in silence not really sure if the other was asleep or not.

He eventually turned onto his side to face her, keeping a firm grip on her waist. He was across her pillow and she could practically feel the flutter of his eyelashes as he watched her in the dark, a soft outline gradually appearing as his eyes adjusted to the blackness of the room, making out her features. she felt his hand move up and down her ribcage and over the inside of her elbow, another sensitive spot that made her shudder and him chuckle again when he realised she was in fact still awake.

She turned onto her side to face him and his hand moved to her lower back where it finally rested over her hip. She pushed her leg in between his and he seemed content and comfortable in how they were existing in this space, both aware they didn’t have to worry about getting up any time soon. He was running his fingers up and down her spine in slow, circular motions and it felt wonderful. Too wonderful. And there was that guilt again.

“What will you do tomorrow?” she asked.

He took a deep breath in contemplation at her unexpected question. “Gym looks pretty good. I have a book and a couple of scripts, too. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“I know.” she murmured but he knew she was dwelling on something.

“I wanna be here for you if you need anything and if you don’t, you won’t even know I’m around. I promise.”

“I know that, too.”

She could sense him smile at her even in their dark. “Good.” he said. “It feels nice knowing I’ve made a good decision for a change.”

*

#chris evans #chris evans fic #evans fic #fan fiction #clear the area #sarah bernette #chris evans x original female character

[whatiswhump]

What if Dr.Harris saw Alfred befriending another doctor, him feeling more comfortable around them or opening up to them, how would he deal with them and how would he deal with Alfred? I'm assuming (hopefully) that the possessive doctor parts really show with that. Also, I am really glad you're back!

@cursedscribbles @voidwhump @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @aliceinwhumperland @whump-it @professional-idiocy @ziptiewhump @angrystudentgoopfire @jaxonjekkels

“I think he needs some sun,” The charge nurse, Ethel, said when she woke him this morning. He had been deep in the throes of a nightmare he couldn’t remember so he was still blinking blearily at the nurse and orderly as they stood over him with their clipboard and medication.

The authoritative middle-aged nurse looked down at him still tangled in the thin sheets of his cot, “Would you like that Alfred?”

He was rarely asked for his opinion and for once he didn’t feel dread at the suggestion from one of his caretakers. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been outside. So he nodded slightly.

“He isn’t approved for grounds privileges yet so put a jacket on him and take him to the courtyard for an hour. That ought to do him some good.” With that, the nurse marked something on her board and left the cell.

The orderly, a brusk one named Ed, waited a moment and looked back down at Alfie and said, “Alright, no trouble now if we do this. If you pitch a fit, you will be right back in here,” before he stared at him long and hard and left the cell to return with a straight jacket. Honestly, Alfie was too tired to fight anything even if he wanted to but he didn’t bother informing Ed of this.

Now Alfie sat in the tepid mid-morning sunshine that washed over the large courtyard in the main building. It was actually fairly pleasant for what it was. Flowers beds and the occasional bench dotted the brick walkways so that if he zoned out just enough, it was almost like he was in one of the parks in his neighborhood back home. He was told to sit and not make any noise when the orderly attached his jacket to the bench he was on. Once Ed wandered away for a cigarette break, it was just Alfie and a few other milling patients. He closed his eyes and lifted his face upwards to let the warmth soak into him, he had forgotten how nice it felt. All of the freckles and warmth his face once held had drained out of him months ago. Now, he was pale and sullen with the occasional mark from a heavy-handed orderly. The traces of who he was before the institution were starting to disappear.

“Enjoying the sun?” A voice very close to him startled him.

He shrunk back and reopened his eyes to see a man, a doctor, he didn’t recognize. He appeared to be in his fifties with thinning hair and a gentle smile. He stood just a few feet away but Alfie hadn’t even heard him approach, it unnerved him slightly.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just noticed you over here and wanted to introduce myself. I’m Dr. Grant.”

Alfie was a little surprised, most other doctors ignored him if he wasn’t in a session with them, “I’m um Alfred Finch,” he managed quickly. Out an embarrassing force of habit, he tried to extend his hand but the jacket kept it secured to his body.

The man politely pretended not to notice, “Yes, I am sorry we haven’t had the chance to meet before now. I know you’ve been here for a few months. How are you settling in now?”

Was it a trick question? By all definitions, he was doing so very poorly but he didn’t want to get in trouble for saying so.

“Um, fine thanks.”

The standing man smiled gently in response but did not appear convinced by the pithy response, “I know it’s not easy here, it would be a major adjustment for anyone, let alone what you’ve been going through.”

Alfie glanced across the garden at one of the opening doors and then back at him, “So are you one of my doctors?”

“Yes and no. Every doctor at the hospital assists in each case, so I may work with you occasionally but not in the same capacity as Dr. Harris. He is your primary psychiatrist.”

Alfie nodded slowly in comprehension trying not to flinch at the mention of Harris.

“But you know you’re lucky. He has taken quite an interest in you-”

At this Alfie’s eyes darted back to Dr. Grant’s face. Was he taunting him? Smiling or sneering at his colleague’s pet project perhaps?

But instead, all he saw was an earnest expression well at home in the man’s relaxed features, “He is a particularly perceptive doctor but very busy with more patients than most. I am impressed with how much time he seems to spend with you. But if anyone can help you, it will be him.”

He seemed intelligent and empathetic enough but he was still a doctor here so Alfie wasn’t sure why something in his chest sank when he realized this man had drunk the Kool-Aid too. Why should he be any different than anyone else here? It seemed everyone worshipped the sick bastard except him.

The doctor was still speaking amiably when Alfie drifted back into attention, “I read that you are a painter? Have you had a chance to use the arts and crafts room yet?”

It seemed everyone had read everything about him. Did everyone but him have access to the intimate details of his life? Alfie stifled a paranoid urge and responded, “I didn’t know there was one.”

“Yes! It’s limited, it’s no Renaissance workshop but you might enjoy it. I’ll speak to Dr. Harris about it for you, perhaps a bit of normalcy will be nice for you.”

“Thanks,” Alfie thought to all of his canvases at home in his apartment. What had happened to them? Did his art dealer take them, or perhaps the landlord burned them when he cleared out the apartment for new renters? Regardless they were probably gone by now.

“My wife and I love art, I mean- I could never pick up a brush and her creative skills lie in embroidery and sewing the odd dress but we spend a lot of weekends in museums. She loves the precision of the Dutch school, all of those more perfect than life still-lives but my tastes run in the more avant-garde. I guess the chaos that runs through and the glimpse into the artist’s mind appeals to me. Hm, now that I think of it, many of the artists would be considered insane on one level or another. What do you like?” A poor transition but seemingly innocent inquiry.

Alfie smiled slightly at the thought, “Whistler. He’s always been my favorite.”

“Oh, beautiful choice. Yes, I can see it with you. All of those layers of transparent washes coming together to make heartbreakingly subtle scenes, anonymous and unequivocally distinct at the same time. There’s a lot in those paintings even though most people find them simple.”

Alfred found himself looking back at the man for the second time in surprise.

He noticed and chuckled, “I’m sorry, I get carried away sometimes, I don’t know many appreciators of fine art.”

“No, no- it’s fine, I just- I’ve never met anyone else that has described him that way. I agree. It hurts in my chest just to look at one.”

Dr. Grant’s face fell solemn suddenly, “It is a particular weight to bear.”

The doctor’s odd and surprisingly serious proclamation didn’t perturb Alfie but instead did the opposite. For the first time since arriving, he felt like someone wasn’t watching him waiting for him to act out or to study and record, but simply to have a conversation.

A moment passed and Dr. Grant suddenly looked down at his watch, “Oh dear, I’m late again. Nurse Ethel will have my head on a stake if I am late to another session. I’m sorry to cut this chat short but thank you for indulging my ramblings, Alfred.”

Alfie just nodded in response as the man walked off. He felt more awake than he had in a long time... Grant was right about normalcy. Perhaps this doctor would be alright after all.

---

“Please sit down Alfred.” Dr. Harris prompted and the orderly took his cue to push Alfie into the seat.

He himself sat down and took the glasses from the pocket of his white coat to scan his notepad, “You seem a little more up in spirits today. Did Nurse Ethel’s recommendation of sun help?”

“Um, yes, thank you.” Alfie could feel the intimidating presence of the orderly hovering just a few feet behind him.

“I spoke with Dr. Grant and he mentioned you were quite loquacious,” He looked up from whatever he had been reading to make eye contact with his patient, “Now. I find this odd considering you are so unwilling to speak during your sessions. Would you like to explain this to me?”

His stare was withering and Alfie felt like a rabbit cornered by the fox, “Um, no I didn’t- I, he just talked about art a little. It wasn’t very long.”

“Alfred, I am glad you are speaking with other members of the staff,” A sickly smile spread across his face, “I just expect you know that you need to cooperate with me first before you start asking others for privileges. Did you not think that I would allow you to go to the art room?”

“Um, no, I didn’t know about it until today, I didn’t mean to-”

“If you had asked me I would have encouraged you to use it. I find it disappointing that you went around me to someone else though.”

“I-”

“As it is, I agree with Dr. Grant. I think it will be good for your treatment. But you will have to be very good to receive this privilege. One issue and I won’t think twice about rescinding it. Will you be good?”

“Um- thank you. Yes... I’ll do my best.” For some reason, he already felt like the consequences would outweigh the reward and a new lump of dread began to form in his throat.

“You’re welcome, Alfred. I just want to see you do well here… And since you’re evidently in such a talkative mood today, I say we should delve into your history with your parents-”

Harris picked up his pen with a click and smiled again at his prey as the blood drained from Alfie. This was going to be a long session...

#alfie #alfie finch #dr harris #possessive doctor #psychiatric whump #whatiswhump #mine #jealous #painting #Straight Jacket