#but luckily I'm really starting to pinpoint what I want it to be

[writtnbyhan]

Can I request a fic where hyunjin had a really bad day and then reader says something that’s obviously meant to be a joke, or idk buys him the wrong order of food etc but he gets really upset and takes it to heart and starts crying and reader realizes something is definitely wrong because he’s never that sensitive and she gets him to open up to her about how stressed he’s been etc and she just helps him get through the day and feel better.

hey!! I loved this request because I love hurt/comfort, even though I don't know if I'm good at writing it...? I tried my best, though! I really hope you like it and that it is what you wanted. I don't know if Hyune actually feels like this sometimes but the mere thought just made me want to fly to Korea and tell this man how much I love him. So, there's that!!! hope you like it.

word count: 1560

Fuck. fuck. fuck.

You know you fucked up, somehow. Looking at your boyfriend's sad face in front of you, you look back upon your interactions today, trying to pinpoint exactly what you did wrong.

Hyunjin had texted you around midday, a simple “coming over tonight after schedules”, to which you responded with a heart emoji and continued working. Luckily, you worked from home so you were able to clean around the house so you could wait for him at your apartment. He was usually done with schedules by 7 p.m., or maybe 8 at the latest. You were free from work by 6:30, so you took a shower and sat on the couch to watch an episode of Friends, sure that by the time it was done your boyfriend would be arriving.

Distracted by the episode, you only remembered he was apparently late when you were halfway through the third episode. Looking at your phone, you saw it was around 10 already.

“baby? you still coming over, right?” you sent, worried frown on your face. You figured he had gone to his place to get cleaned up, maybe dance practice ran late and he had to wait until 3racha showered, or something. He probably had a reasonable explanation, you figured, even when he didn’t text you back, you knew he wouldn’t stand you up.

Sure enough, about 30 minutes later your boyfriend arrived, opening the door for himself and getting inside, running away from the chilly night air that probably made him feel cold due to his wet hair. You frowned, looking at him.

“I’m so, so sorry!” he quickly apologized, taking off his shoes in a rush so as to get closer to you as fast as possible. “Everything got delayed and then Jisung took forever in the shower, I’m so sorry!” he repeated.

“And here I was thinking you stood me up and I’d be able to sleep without someone stealing all the sheets tonight.” you joked, sighing as soon as you finished saying those words as if you meant them, even though it was an obvious joke, and you figured he could tell by the blush that crept to your cheeks as soon as he stepped through the door. Even after dating for a few months, you were always blushing around him.

He froze, but you didn’t notice that because you were watching the screen in front of you to click pause on the episode. After doing so, you closed the laptop and stretched your back, only then looking at him again. You noticed he was staring at the floor and had stopped moving towards you halfway through the living room, so he was standing close to the door, just looking at the floor as if it had something interesting to tell him.

“Hyune?” you asked, worried, trying to get his attention. He hummed without looking up, letting you know you were heard. “What’s going through your head?”

“You really think I would stand you up?” he asked, and his voice broke a little near the end. Your eyes grew big, surprised he was taking that comment so seriously. Before you got a chance to say anything, he continued. “Am I… do I ever make you believe you're not loved enough?”

He looked up as he let out the last question, and you were now able to see the tears that were running silently down his face, his worried eyes fixed on you as you gasped in surprise, quickly getting up to get close to him.

“Hyunjin! No!” You were almost reprimanding him. Seeing him this sad made you feel guilty, and your heart broke a little at the sight of the tears and the hurt he was feeling.

When you were close enough, you tiptoed and put your arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly.

“Baby, I never once believed you were actually standing me up, you make me feel so loved and so sure. I knew if you weren’t coming you’d let me know, so I figured something had happened and you were running late.” you explained in whispers, still hugging him.

His arms were around your waist now, and he hugged you so tight he almost left you without air. His face was hidden in your neck, and you could feel his wet cheeks brushing against your skin. You worry, because it’s obvious that the tears are still falling and because he’s never this insecure.

“Hyune?” you ask again to get his attention, but you don’t wait for a hum this time before continuing. “What’s wrong?”

Hyunjin is silent for a few seconds, probably thinking if you really want to hear what’s burdening him. Trying to be reassuring, you move one of your hands to his hair, interlocking your hands with locks of hair, massaging his scalp. He sighs, and you know you broke through him and his walls — they’re never strong enough to keep you out, and you’re so glad for that.

“I’m just stressed, y/n…” he says, voice so tired it makes you wanna cry.

When you realize he won’t continue talking, you try to get him to open up more. “Why is that, baby? What exactly has got you this stressed? You know you’re an amazing artist so, what’s wrong?”

Hyunjin thinks. He’s picking up the reasons why he’s stressed, trying to organize his thoughts and put them into words.

“Everything is too much.” he settles for, in the end. “You know the comeback is this week, right?” You nod, and he must feel it against his head because he continues. “Well, we have everything ready and only practice the choreographies and film interviews and that’s the thing. I feel like I should be doing more, I feel like people think I should be doing more. Also! The whole ambassador thing… it makes me so happy, but I feel like I’m also not good enough for it, not worthy of such an honor… I should be doing more to actually earn it.” he says, almost rushing through his words as more things come to mind. You’re still hugging, so he can’t see how you close your eyes in a pained expression as you hear him speak. It hurts you that he thinks this way of himself.

“Hyunjin…” Your voice breaks, betraying you. “You are doing so good, I’ve seen you practice the choreographies and I see your work with Versace and… baby, believe me, you’re doing enough. You are enough. Even if you weren’t doing anything, you deserve this so much because you’re you! They want you because you have the charisma, and the look, not because of what you do to promote. The enterprise and the kids, they love you because you’re you, and you do an amazing work. If they wanted you to do more, they would ask for it. If they don’t tell you explicitly, that means you’re doing enough — and knowing you, you’re probably doing even more than you should. Do you think your fancams have the amount of views they have just because you’re pretty? I mean, you are, I won’t deny that, but you’re also mesmerizing on stage, even when you don’t try that hard. Now, I can tell that you’re trying because you look… more than thrice as good. It’s actually unbelievable. I know Stay is proud of you, and I am too. No one thinks you should do more than what you do or you should try harder, we think you’re enough, and we thank you for doing what you do already.”

Your voice is firm, even if it breaks sometimes, betraying that tears are running down your face too. It makes you ache that the person you love so much is doubting himself.

“Baby…” Hyunjin says, and his voice is barely audible. He’s sobbing now against your neck, and you don’t blame him because you can only imagine how long he’s kept this hidden and how badly he needed to hear what you just told him.

You shush him and go back to massaging his scalp.

“Let’s go to bed, okay? You need to rest, and you need cuddles and kisses. I’m going to kiss you until you forget every doubt you have about yourself, okay?” You whisper, trying to lighten the mood. He chuckles and nods, untangling himself from you but taking your hand, guiding you to your room. You notice he doesn’t want you to see him while he cries because he turns around quickly. You smile, shaking your head slowly. You’re so in love with that man, you doubt there’s anything he could do to scare you away.

You squeeze his hand three times, the universal signal for “I love you”. He squeezes back, and when you arrive in the bedroom you cuddle with him and make good on your promise to kiss him until he forgets.

The next day, you start by reminding him how proud you are of him, and promising him that the kids are also proud, and so is Stay. You take it one day at a time, checking in on him and letting him tell you every doubt he has, something just to get them off his chest and sometimes so you can free him of said doubts. One day at a time, slowly, until he realizes how much he’s worth.

#✿ . . cami writes #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x y/n #hwang hyunjin x reader #skz scenarios

[urarakasdiary]

-SOULMATES (2)

Muzan Kibutsuji x reader

Tengen knew he had fucked up

The wives looked at him weirdly. He whispered to them to go inside and leave them alone for a while. They nod and go inside leaving the two of them. "[name] I'm sorry"

She couldn't even look at him. she wanted to scream and cry and hit him, but she didn't. "ill promise to never do this again [name] please just forgive me" he said sitting next to her and rubbing her back.

she didn't forgive him but she told him a classic "yeah sure ok" Tengen thought it was enough and smiled at her. little did he know she was still very mad at him.

After 3 days of Tengen and his wives to staying home, they had to leave. the wives didn't say goodbye as usual. Uzui hugged you and tried to give you a kiss but you turned your head around and he had to kiss your cheek. he was in disarray by your action and he tried to console you but his crow didn't allow it. you scrubbed your cheek super hard after that.

"I'll come home early today ok?" he said hugging [name] again and successfully giving her a kiss on the lips.

It was the evening now, [name] got dressed up. she had decided to go to the festival alone. when she reached the festival she wanted to cry. there were so many couples deeply in love, happily eating and talking.

she wanted to cry. she knew Tengen would never give her that type of love ever again. Then she started herself as a woman altogether. she started crying just thinking about her marriage. [name] started making her way home, still crying. Of course, no one cared about her, they just gave her strange looks.

but there was someone. someone who cared for her in the crowd. Our demon king Muzan. [name] didn't even notice him. but he did. it was as if time slowed down for him when you walked past him. that sweet scent and melodious heartbeat. had his past lover really been reincarnated? When he was about to call for you his human daughter called out for him and he had to go. he would come for you tomorrow.

It was now the next day. Tengen and the three others would arrive home today. they would be tired so you wanted to make them a warm dinner. you made your way to the market for some last-minute shopping for dinner. then you saw more couples shopping together. you thought about your marriage. if you could see into the future you about never marry him.

[name] was so lost in thought that she didn't notice the vegetables dropping from her bag. Luckily Kibutsuji was there, "excuse me miss you dropped something" she turned around to meet the red-eyed man. "oh Im very sorry" she replied. oh, how happy Muzan was by hearing that sweet voice of yours again. he kneeled down picking up the tomatoes.

You continued to conversate with him, you have never felt happier. while talking to him, there was something familiar with him almost like you had seen him or talked to him before. but you couldn't pinpoint it.

time went quicker when you were with him. You two got along so well that he even won you a pretty little clip from the claw machines at the festival. he was so sweet! if only Uzui was like him.

as he placed the pin on your hair, you felt how unnaturally cold he was

"oh it looks like it's late I shall head home now" you spoke as you smiled.

"of course, we could meet another day. it's really late now its dangerous to go alone let me accompany you"

"you're too sweet! alright let's go"

it was weird that you were taking a stranger to your home. but does it really matter? it's not like he could get inside your home after all.

while walking to your home, Kibutsuji kept the mood up by making various conversations that kept you interested. "well this is my stop" you said. "ok. goodnight sleep well uhh.." Muzan spoke

"its [name] what about yours," you asked him "you can call me KIbutsuji" he smiled "oh ok, Kibutsuji I hope you have good sleep"

after he left you went inside and started cooking dinner. You were so much happier now. meanwhile, Uzui wanted to get home as soon as possible and grab his love, his wife his [name]. When the trio arrived they saw you, they saw how you were so much cheerier and even singing a song while cooking.

you were even wearing perfume, your hair was done, and your makeup looked lovely. and he saw the pin she was wearing. the pin Muzan won for her. Tengen immediately started assuming that his wife was cheating on him. he grew angry.

later on, Uzui once again left [name] out and went to the festival with the other three. they got into an argument about it and he brought up how she was cheating on him with another man.

"YOU'VE PROBABLY BEEN CHEATING ON ME THIS ENTIRE RELATIONSHIP [NAME]!!! YOU'RE A FUCKING WHORE. THAT HAIRPIN YOU'RE WEARING IT MUST HAVE BEEN WON BY A MAN FOR YOU!!"

"whore...?" [name] had tears in her eyes uzui immediately tried apologizing but she had enough of this. this was her time to fight back.

"AM I A FUCKING WHORE FOR WANTING TO LOOK PRETTY FOR ONCE? THIS PIN? YES, A MAN WON IT FOR ME. DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY? I WAS FUCKING CRYING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET TENGEN!!"

"BECAUSE OF YOU! I WAS CRYING BECAUSE OF OUR FAILED MARRIAGE. THIS MAKEUP? I WANTED TO LOOK PRETTY FOR YOU! SINCE YOU WON'T EVEN ACKNOWLEDGE ME!! AND THIS PERFUME, IS IT A CRIME THAT YOU WANT TO SMELL NICE?"

Tengen was in tears hearing those aggressive words leave your mouth. he did deserve it.

"I've had enough Tengen I think its time we part ours ways, you enjoy your life" said [name]

"no please [name] I promise I will trust you! please just don't leave me" Uzui got down on his knees begging for you to stay. "I'm sorry Uzui but its over"

she made her way to her room, leaving Uzui and the three wives crying. well not exactly the three wives, they didn't even know you properly it was Tengen himself crying his eyes off.

You had to sleep in Tengen's estate today. it was already midnight and there would be demons outside. Only if you knew that you shouldn't worry about that since your lover was their ruler.

that night you had the weirdest dreams ever. almost like a rewind of your past life, you saw the same man you called your friend killing so many people, and you learned his name Muzan Kibutsuji.

The next day, you waited till evening to move. the new 'friend' you met at the festival yesterday told you that he'll be at the festival when the sun sets and you wanted to go with him.

Tengen and the trio had another mission somewhere nearby yesterday and left after your argument so they would be back by this evening. as you were about to leave they arrived. he begged you not to leave but you refused, alas he had to set you free. it was his fault after all.

after meeting up with Kibutusuji you went to a bar to get some drinks. You told him everything that had unfolded in your home and he seemed to genuinely care. "you know Kibutsuji, I really like you" he seemed shocked. yes, you did drink but it was not enough to get you drunk. it must've been an honest thing.

he took you to a hotel, and it happened so fast. All the unreleased love just unraveled itself and for the first time ever you actually made love with someone.

in the middle of the session, you uttered his full name. He froze and started choking you! he asked you how you knew his name. Out of complete fear you told him about the dream you had about him and that you knew he was a demon but you couldn't stop loving him. he cried after those pretty little sentences. he has never felt so loved ever before.

It's now been 2 months since you and Muzan have been together. Now there's even a little half-demon half-human baby growing inside your tummy! you were so happy with him. who knew demons could love this well.

one day, when Muzan was gone with work or something you had gone to the market to buy some baby clothes for your little one. Unfortunately for you, there were demon slayers nearby. one of them being Tanjiro.

hellloo! thank you for reading part 2 of Soulmates. thank you for reading and please leave a like and a repost that would be very helpful!!👯‍♀️💖 special thank you to @z3r0art for this wonderful request and happy Halloween! 👻✨

#kny x y/n #demon slayer #manga #urarakasdiary #kny x reader #demonslayer x reader #muzan x reader #kibutsuji x reader #sanemi #uzui tengen #tengen uzui #tanjiro #kibutsuji x yn #kibutsuji #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu muzan #kny headcanons #demon slayer headcanons

[wetcatspellcaster]

Honest Lie - 6, 22, 25

6. What do you need to write? Is there anything special you need to do/have to help your creative flow?

Honestly, this is an interesting question for this fic specifically, bc my writing usually comes from a place of... pure fucking spite lmao. If there's something I don't like enough, I want to fix it (in Bleeding Heart, it was all the early access bullying lol). An Honest Lie is weird because I actually really like the Astarion canon storyline - though I can't speak for patches. So in this case, what I need to write, is a few weeks of getting depressed from my angsty as fuck AU, and then I come here to be cosy and promise my OC the world :')

22. Does personal experience ever inspire your fics? What about this particular fic?

Crying. killshot.

The fun thing about me, is that I don't consider any of my OCs self-inserts or related to me at all(this is no judgement to self-insert OCs, I simply do not consider myself hot enough to hold a candle to the imaginary women in my brain and thus, I admire anyone with the confidence).

...And then I go into therapy, and my therapist asks me about my writing, and then they give me a long hard look and I say "oh, no, I get that look, but it's not me, you see. because this girl is hot :) and pink :)". And then my therapist looks at me some more.

which is a bit of an overshare, but basically it turns out that every fic I write can be archaeologically surveyed about a year after I write it for the personal experience it actually entails (yes, I'm extremely worried about Pieces).

luckily, Rosalie is 2yrs old, so I have done that work already! and oh boy, does that make writing An Honest Lie fucking weird at times!

I've been pretty open that Rose was my pandemic OC. I didn't write her based on my own pandemic experiences - it was actually that two of my friends at the time were agoraphobic, I was anxious, and I liked the idea of a magical cure for both of those things, in the form of the tadpole. But since I wrote the first fic with her, I have realised a lot about myself: I have recovered from an acute self-hating depression, and I have received an autism diagnosis, all of which seem relevant to the Masker Extraordinaire.

If I was to pinpoint the exact piece of personal experience here, I think it's the irrational fear that all recovery can be undone in an instant. That is the worry that motivates a lot of Rosalie's character. Like Rose, I really fear the moment where my progress is exposed as a lie, or the risk that one thing will tip me back into my worst moment without me having any control over it. I don't think it will happen, but I do feel like that possibility haunts my choices and my everyday life!

25. Is there anything you would change about this fic? Why/Why not?

Weirdly... I'm not sure if I'd write it? which is a depressing way to answer this question. I like it as a project, but it's a little different than my approach to other fics - it feels messier as a story. I mostly started it bc people asked for a continuation of my first fic, and I have a lot of love for A Bleeding Heart... neither of these are good motivations for a whole new fic lmaooooo. But now that I'm here, I wouldn't change anything. I've accepted it's going to be a messier, more self-indulgent project, and that while it doesn't come from my usual urge to fix things in a story, which means I have less prompts going forward, instead I just have to fully enjoy the bits I love.

behind the scenes fic asks!

#asks #mutuals #ask games #behind the scenes #wip: an honest lie

[thefanficmonster]

I wouldn’t be mad if you went down the Hannix fic route! Maybe some headcanons please?? 🥺

THE WAY YOU MADE MY DAY OMG! Hannix headcanons headed your way, enjoy 💕

Hannix's first date

Pairing: Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace x Jake 'Hangman' Seresin [Top Gun: Maverick]

Warnings: None :)

Genre: Fluff, Romance

Several pilots lift a curious eyebrow or give a concerned frown as they scope the interior of The Hard Deck and fail to pinpoint the presence of two particular pilots

Phoenix and Hangman

The two rarely skip out on a night of letting loose and throwing back a beer but not much further thought is given to their absence

After all, it's been a day of brutal training with an even more brutal weather that's certain to kick anyone in the teeth and send them to bed early no matter how much of a party animal they are

Logical explanation, is it not?

No one can blame the aviators for resorting to that conclusion because it does in fact make a lot more sense than the actuality would

And what that is, you might be wondering?

Well, let me tell you:

The outlandish reality of the situation no pilot present could've guessed is that Hangman and Phoenix, two individuals who appear to be massive thorns in each other's sides, are out having dinner together

Not a casual dinner, no, no, no.

If you don't believe me, then you better believe their outfit choices

More specifically Jake's perfectly ironed white button-up shirt and Nat's sundress

Yeah, not Hangman and Phoenix, but Jake and Natasha

No callsigns on this table tonight

Need I give any more hints as to what kind of dinner it is?

On second though, I won't

I'll let events tell themselves:

During the dinner, Natasha could barely recognize the person sitting opposite her

Hell, she even found herself put-off by the lack of Jake's trademark douchiness and condescending remarks

It was a nice change of pace and a solid glimpse into his true self when he wasn't hauling ass to keep up appearances at base

He could say the same thing though

He was surprised by the warmth Nat radiated and how honestly she smiled at him, her eyes glinting with the reflected glow of the above-head fairy lights

They're 100% themselves tonight and it just goes to show that some aspects of their personalities come in conjunction with the title 'Lieutenant' and their callsigns

When at base, they're Navy-coded, halfway playing a part

And even if their roles contradict to the point of crossing into enemy territory, they still ended up drawn to one another

Luckily so, otherwise neither of them would've had the chance to discover the other's extended spectrum of colors and personality

"Gotta say, you really know how to surprise a lady, Bagman."

Looks like that false callsign stuck though

His lips widen into a grin every time he hears it - a grand improvement from when it felt like a fly buzzing by his ear

"I'm not an empty promises kind of guy. Thought you'd know that by now."

There's that cockiness she could feel herself starting to miss

Which is surprising because that very aspect of his character is what had her promising herself she'd give Hangman and whatever it is they could be only one chance

Only one

One date and if it were to fall through, she wouldn't waste her time any further

But looking down at their intertwined fingers as they walk down the beach, barefoot in the sand after leaving the restaurant, she feels like she could've made the biggest mistake had she not given him this one chance

"And yet you still leave a lot to the imagination."

"Huh-?"

Hangman barely has time to even be confused properly when Phoenix frees her hand from his while the other drops her heels in the sand so she can bring him down by the collar of his shirt and kiss him

Something he most definitely wouldn't have initiated himself, not on the first date anyhow

He wants to take things slow with her because unlike many of his previous relationships, he's actually willing to give his all to make this work

And that's exactly what he's going to do

However, just because he didn't want to rush things does not mean he didn't want to kiss her

He was dying to, had been the entire night

Which is why he kissed her back without a second to spare

A moment under the moonlight straight out of a romance movie

#top gun maverick #hangman x phoenix #hangman #jake hangman seresin #natasha phoenix trace #jake seresin #natasha trace #hannix #natasha trace x jake seresin #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #robert bob floyd #payback #fanboy #coyote #pete maverick mitchell #top gun #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #headcanons

[prince-of-elsinore]

ponypop wip preview

I'm working on a multi-chapter (!) ponypop fic set years after canon, when Ponyboy is in college at the University of Tulsa. It's been really fun imagining what has changed since the events of The Outsiders, and what hasn't. Here's a snippet concerning one of those headcanons:

****

I guess I ought to explain a few things, including why Soda and I were still sharing a bed nearly seven years after Mom and Dad died. When we’d started, there was an unspoken assumption that it was a temporary arrangement. After Johnny and Dally my nightmares got worse again, but eventually they tapered off. It got to the point that I was almost relieved to wake up in a sweat to Sodapop gently shaking my shoulder and saying, “It’s okay, honey, it’s just a dream,” because it meant we still had an excuse.

Then maybe around 18 months since the accident (it’d be impossible to pinpoint more exactly) some sort of shift happened. Soda and I never discussed it, but I’m sure he felt it too. Sleeping together stopped being because of the nightmares, and started being because stopping would mean admitting that I was fine without him, and probably had been for a while. Stopping at all would mean that we could’ve stopped months or even a year ago.

I was never ashamed of sharing a bed with Soda, but I became chary of mentioning it in public. When I was sixteen or seventeen I’d said something offhanded about it at school, and a pig-nosed girl named Suzie Owens asked in shock if we were so poor we couldn’t afford enough beds. I went red as a lobster and informed her we had a four bedroom house with plenty of furniture; Soda and I just liked to share. Then she got a funny look on her face and asked what sort of baby still slept with his brother in high school. Luckily the bell rang and saved me from answering.

If there was a time to have gone back to sleeping separate with minimal embarrassment, that would’ve been it. But the incident didn’t make me want to stop. It just made me determined to keep it to myself better, and with that determination it became more impossible than ever to imagine stopping. Darry never questioned it, and Soda never mentioned missing his old room, and I never mentioned wanting mine to myself. It wasn’t my room anymore, anyway; it was Soda’s and mine. Our room, our bed, and what it came down to was that neither of us wanted to change that. We’d lost something irreplaceable when our parents died, and while sleeping together didn’t make up for it, at least we’d found something, a new sort of comfort and closeness, that we wouldn’t have otherwise. We saw no reason to give it up.

#ponypop #my fic #fic preview #those greaser boys #bed sharing #one of my fave tropes. thanks canon <3

[invisiblerhythmcat]

I guess the other thing about me and disability is that, for me, everything is overall ok.

Like, there's definitely things wrong with me and things that I absolutely do not like. There are days when I want to tear my brain out and replace it. There are times when I'm in too much pain to think. I have all sorts of weird nonsense that makes me much more miserable than I'd like to be. I spend a lot of time going "huh, that probably shouldn't happen in a healthy body"

But none of it is terrible. My bad days are probably someone else's Very Good days. And I wouldn't be surprised if they had easy fixes either. But that doesn't mean they don't suck.

And the problem is that, because almost everything is overall ok, it's really hard to pinpoint the things that are wrong and it overall looks like everything is fine. Add that to my general difficulty in accessing health care between autism/communication struggles and issues with authority because of related things as a kid and anxiety about medication/doctors (all more things that are overall ok, but together, turns into a lot). And then suddenly, all the things that suck but are generally ok are going unmanaged.

And a whole bunch of unmanaged things that suck do build up over time. No matter how ok they are. No matter how easy they are to fix.

And with my knowledge as a dancer, I am luckily able to pinpoint and fix certain things on my own. Like, the issue I have in my toe joint that came when I was fourteen. We did loads of X-Rays and MRIs (all while I was legit blacking out from pain and still walking on it) and I eventually just stopped dancing for a while and then lied and told everyone it was better since no one else seemed to have answers anyways and then I figured out the exact weight alignment I needed to keep it from hurting on my own and now I have a toe which sometimes reminds me that I need to distribute my weight more appropriately.

But I can't always do that with everything, especially the things that are less mechanical, and so I'm stuck in this place with a lot of niggles adding up, which getting help feels like too much work for, but they slowly, slowly, slowly start to pull me down. And it's frustrating, because I can see how easily these things could be fine or fixable and they're not.

And I feel like I can't call myself physically disabled because of how fine these things should be and because a major source of it is very much autism and mental illness.

But also chronic pain is chronic pain, fatigue is fatigue, and I don't know what else to call it? Even if it's not As Bad as other people and might come from a different place...

I don't know, I feel like there are some waypoints I need that I don't have yet in terms of just understanding.

#and I absolutely was supposed to get ready for a call seven minutes ago #so I'm going to hold back my instinct to write a whole new essay in the tags #maybe

[aguacatetoast]

Miami Girl

You're just a Miami girl doing the same things as always until someone changes that for you.

Explicit content, one shot.

Warnings: 18+ only! masturbation, manhandling, rough behavior, age gap, fem receiving oral, teasing, unprotected sex (pls be safe), creampie, fingering, and a bit of fluff. Enjoy!

Word count: 4,128

You are a simple Miami girl doing things that are common to you, jogging around Miami Beach, helping lost tourists, and enjoying the beach. You realize that not many people are as fortunate as you, so you enjoy and appreciate all the little things you do. But there's only so much a 25-year-old girl can do in her city.

This morning felt different though, you couldn't tell why but it just was. Maybe the sky was brighter, the ocean was as beautiful as ever, you really couldn't tell. You decided to dress your best today, even for your daily morning jog, you wear something that really accentuates your natural curves and makes everything pop out in the right places. You were really feeling yourself, and you were ready for your morning jog. The jog was going well as per usual, everything seemed to be going routinely. You stopped to get a drink of water, as a car approaches you, you get alarmed and move out the way. Then you realize the car was trying to get your attention. You stopped to analyze your surroundings and the shady vehicle with the tinted windows trying to get your attention. You cautiously walked over to the car and head towards the window on the driver's side.

You still confused say "Hello? Is there anything I can help you with?" The driver seems to be analyzing every inch of your body, you start to feel a bit flustered considering your body was really on display, you start to get angry seeing as the driver wasn't answering you and was too distracted on your body. He then goes "Hola mi amor, te quería hacer una pregunta" (Hi my love, I wanted to ask you a question) Flustered by his Spanish, you were caught off guard by his words, luckily for you, everyone in Miami knows Spanish so you were able to reply to him confidently. "Ok, cual es la pregunta?" (Ok what is the question) The driver is still analyzing every inch of you when he says "Cariño, you don't know who I am?" You start to feel embarrassed at this point, am I supposed to know who this man is? Maybe I live under a rock or something because clearly, he seems to have some ego, you chuckled to try to clear the tension and said " Honestly I don't know who you are" He seemed to have had mixed feelings about the answer I gave him and proceeded to say "Well, I'll just introduce myself to you, My name is Pedro Pascal, I'm a Chilean American actor." You start to think to yourself, is he familiar? Do you know him? Have I seen him anywhere? You tried as hard as you could to pinpoint him but nothing seemed to come to your mind. "Well it doesn't really matter if you know me or not, but I'm interested in you Cariño, it would be an honor for you to join me at my event tonight, I would really appreciate it..."

You were so confused and shocked. Me? Out of all of the people, me? I started to think of what to answer to that, but with the tone and the silky voice that he has, once he asked me that question I melted like butter and I had no other choice but to say yes. You chucked and said, "So what happened, last-minute date bailed on you so now you're asking a Miami girl to go out with you?" He didn't seem offended, in fact, he started to laugh too. "No...I was actually just waiting for the right person to ask" he winked as he finished his sentence, his response made you flustered and shy so you ending just laughing nervously. Pedro then proceeded to ask you for your phone number which you gave to him no questions asked. He then said that he would text you the details later and that he looked forward to it with a wink at the end. Once he drove off, you couldn't believe what just happened to you. You felt like you were in a dream or some fantasy world. You realized that your jog has to come to an end because Pedro Pascal asked you for a special event. Your morning superstition was correct. - After hearing the shocking news, you couldn't help but start searching him up. You then find out that he is a really well-known actor for shows like the Mandalorian and Netflix series Narcos and a really shocking one was Game of thrones. You felt embarrassed at the fact that you didn't recognize him from the start. While thinking about him, he asks you what your address is and you were skeptical at first but thought to yourself 'do I have anything to lose?' And you send it to him right away. His reply made your heart skip a beat.

Pedro -I hope you like the surprise I got you, I just know you will look absolutely stunning.

You haven't felt this giddy about a boy since high school, you started to freak out a bit but then you started to get ready. You took a long shower, went to the salon you always go to and did your own makeup. Your hair has never looked so good, and your makeup turned out amazing. You felt stunning and the butterflies in your stomach were fluttering stronger than ever. In your nervous jitter, you didn't realize the knock on the door. You go to open it and it's some fancy looking person with a big bag asking you for your name, you quickly confirm that it is you and the person sets it up in your closet and says "Mr.Pascal wanted me to tell you that he hopes you like it and that he tried his best"

Your butterflies now feel more like wasps, you started to think to yourself how a person can make you feel all of those things at once. You thank the person as they left and you start to feel nervous about opening the bag. Your anxiety starts to eat at you so you go and open the bag and the first thing you see is a handwritten note saying

"A gorgeous dress for a gorgeous girl-Pedro"

Your heart was palpating at this point and you realized how lucky you got today, and then you see the gorgeous dress he picked out just for you. You started to think of how he thought of you, and your body just to pick that out for you. He chose a beautiful silk dress for you, with a beautiful pair of earrings, a necklace, and bracelets. And the most beautiful heels that you could've dreamed of. You were amazed by the amount of effort that he went through for you, but then you realize that he is a gentleman and that it was just common courtesy. You start to think about how you seem like a young foolish girl compared to an older man like Pedro. You start to get shy when you think about having to be with him tonight but you are ready for it all. You put the dress on and it fits as if it was tailored to your body. You were shocked at how good you looked, and proceed to put in the rest of the accessories and the best perfume you owned. You went to go see yourself in the mirror and you were shocked at how amazing you looked. You were going to be with other celebrities and as his date for tonight you had to make sure that you looked good, and you did indeed do that. You were absolutely stunning and you knew it. You couldn't wait for Pedro to see you and to compliment you. - After a bit you heard a knock on your door, you go to open the door and it was another fancy looking person, he seemed to be astonished by you and you sheepishly ask "May I help you?" The fancy person snaps out of his trance "I apologize for that, I am coming from Mr. Pascal's behalf, I am going to be your Chauffeur for tonight." You smile and nod, you quickly get your purse and phone and start heading out. As soon as you arrive at the luxurious car, the chauffeur opens the door for you and you quickly got in. You started to feel anxious thinking about how you were just a normal girl going to a very important event and you were his date...the Pedro Pascals date. But you calmed down because you reminded yourself about how gorgeous you looked and how amazing you felt. Your heart was fluttering, your hands were clammy, and you were breaths were becoming shaky. Then you see a notification on your phone.

Pedro -I can't wait to see my gorgeous girl tonight, I'll be waiting for you

That certainly did not help. - As you were arriving at the place you immediately start to see all of the paparazzi, all of the press, and all of the gorgeous celebrities getting out of their vehicles. You felt like a kid going to Disney for the first time. You then saw Pedro getting off, your jaw dropped and your eyes were about to pop out. He looked handsome as hell, and you couldn't contain yourself. You started to internally panic as you started to get closer and closer to Pedro. The chauffeur must've seen your face because he reassures you by saying "Don't worry about being nervous, you look dashing." You flash him with a quick smile and thank him. Finally, you arrived, you were not prepared for that evening. - Once you arrived the chauffeur signaled to Pedro of your arrival. Pedro goes and opens the door for you and as you step out, you felt his intense glares just admiring all of your beauty. Once you're fully out, and with Pedro's hand on yours, he takes a moment to fully appreciate you and all of your beauty. He then quickly takes your hand and you both start heading down the events carpet. To you it felt like you were walking down the red carpet, you couldn't help but feel nervous and excited. You start to walk towards the paparazzi and that's when Pedro quickly moved his arm around your waist, pulling you guys that much closer. You started to get flustered, kind of liking his touch..but snapping yourself out of it when you realize that they Were taking pictures of you two. He then leans into your ear and whispers

"I really did make a good choice, you look absolutely stunning." - After all of the pictures and the awards currently being given out, You and Pedro have spent an amazing time, he has made you feel so comfortable and so welcomed that you feel like you have known him forever. You look at him and when he looks at you, you see a sparkle in his eyes, your heart skipped a beat. He then leans in and says "Thank you for being crazy enough for coming with me." You giggle and reply with "Thank you for being crazy enough to invite me." You both start to giggle and he then holds your hand and brings you closer to him, his eyes still on you to make sure that you were ok with it, and to reassure him you give him a little smile. - After many hours, Pedro ended up winning two awards. As they called his name out his eyes lit up and he immediately faced you. You were in awe and your eyes lit up too. As he walked on stage, you were cheering for him so loud that many people started staring at you. But honestly, you didn't care, not at all, you were so proud of him and his accomplishments, you just knew how hard he had worked, as his family is Chilean immigrants. Once he came back to the table, you just wanted to squeeze him to death and maybe possibly kiss him... You couldn't stop thinking about him in every single way possible. Once he sat down he showed off his awards and you gave him a quick hug and a small kiss on the cheek. He started to blush and smiled at you. You then tell him "I am so proud of you Pedro, I'm grateful to have been by your side as you receive these achievements." Pedro was clearly very touched by this and hugged you really tightly and says "Thank you so much cariño." It was a wonderful hug but when he let you go, you heard him mutter something to himself, you couldn't make out what he had just said. -

After the event had finished you weren't sure what was going to happen. Were you and Pedro going to say bye to each other forever? Were you going to stay as close friends? Or maybe possibly more? Your mind started to race with all sorts of thoughts and as you were walking with Pedro he holds your hand and tells you to come with him. You stare at him with confusion but you were obviously not going to reject him. Once you started to follow him, he takes you to the limousine that'll be transporting you two. He opens the door for you and you quickly get in, the limousine was so beautiful, the setting was very romantic. He closes the door as he gets in and quickly scooches next to you. You felt the butterflies in your stomach as he got close to you, his scent filled the air. You can smell his expensive cologne as he was sat right next to you. Pedro then says "I wanted to treat you good tonight, So I rented a room at The South Beach Hotel" You were shocked to hear that, in all of your life living in Miami You've never gone to that hotel, but you know it's pretty luxurious and you couldn't be happier to be spending the night with him.

You very excited and told him "Pedro, I can't thank you enough, I really appreciate everything you've done for me today." He gave you a smile and he grabbed you by the waist to pull you guys even closer. After such an exhausting day, you lean your head on his shoulder. He quietly asks you "Hey, do you want to drink some champagne with me?" You quickly nod your head yes and give him a small smile. He proceeds to get the glasses and the champagne and then pours it. "Cheers to us, and well maybe my awards too", You give out a small laugh and clink the glasses together and drink the champagne. You couldn't think of a better evening. You were excited for what the rest of the night held for the two of you.

-

Once you got to the hotel and went to your room, you were in awe, the view of your city was beautiful, you felt so lucky to be there with Pedro. Pedro had already settled in, he had changed into PJs. You couldn't stop looking at him because he just looked so casual but still so very attractive. You try to stop staring and quickly take off your heels, Pedro looked at you as you sighed in relief. "I can imagine how tired you are, I left your PJs with some slippers in the bathroom for you if you want to change." You smiled and said, "Thank you, what would I do without you." You rush to the bathroom and you see everything laid out very neatly, lord why couldn't you just marry him at this point. You see that he got a cute matching silk PJ set. What was his obsession with silk? You didn't question it though considering that it did make you look good. After a while you finished getting ready, you felt bad because you knew you took a while and Pedro was waiting for you in the bed. You got out of the bathroom and you wanted to scare him, once you got near the bed you see him laying in the bed, you couldn't see him clearly but once you got a bit closer you saw him touching himself. You couldn't believe it, your eyes started searching his body, your heart started to palpitate and you couldn't stop thinking about it and envisioning it. You step back almost as if you were heading to the bathroom just to think about what you saw. You were shocked and surprised but the only big question on your mind was, was he touching himself at the thought of me?

You didn't know how to face him, or what to do, you wanted to be bold and go to him and satisfy him, but what if he didn't want that. After a few moments you heard him moan a bit, very quietly, but that made you want to burst, you couldn't hold it anymore and you started to walk up to him. As you got close to the bedroom Pedro still didn't notice and once he noticed, it was too late. You had already seen him in his vulnerable state, Pedro turned extremely red was so visibly embarrassed, and apologized. You smirked at him asking him "Why did you stop?"

You can tell he was surprised, but it was a good surprise. Your act of boldness caused him to get out of bed and get closer to where you were standing. You were confident and got even closer to him. He was tired of waiting and starting to walk towards you causing you to walk back and resulting in you two slamming onto a wall together. He leaned in and started to kiss your neck. As he pressed those hot wet kisses all over you, you started to melt like butter. He moved up to your lips where he roughly kisses you, then the kiss started to turn to two desperate people yearning for satisfaction. He was touching your ass, firmly grabbing it. You have never been this turned on before. - He was grinding on you and you can feel how hard he was through the thin fabric of your shorts. Suddenly he pulls you and throws you onto the bed. He was so rough yet passionate at the same time, and you didn't know how much longer you could do with the making out. In the heat of the moment Pedro takes off his shirt, and you admire his back. You run your hands against his warm skin, wanting to make him all yours. Then he pulled off your little shorts, to his surprise, you weren't wearing any underwear. You started to feel flustered as you were exposed in his face, you saw him smirk and say "I see my girl was ready for me." You really didn't know why you didn't put on underwear but you were glad you didn't. You were shocked as he started to lick your folds. You felt the warmth of his mouth and the wetness of his tongue. He was doing things to your clit that no one had ever done before. You were moaning softly just enjoying the heat and warmth of Pedro, licking every single fold and taking all of your wetness. At this rate, Pedro was going to make you cum, and Pedro knew that. You were an unfolding mess, you were pulling his hair and moaning louder and louder, and then Pedro stopped. You were surprised and he knew you were disappointed "Not yet Cariño, I said I wanted to treat you well didn't I?" You knew he was right, he then took off your shirt and just admired your body, he whispered to himself "Dios Mio" (My God)

You were ready for everything, he saw that, but Pedro was a tease, he wanted to take things slow knowing that you wanted to be satisfied. You went to his shorts and went to them off, he finished taking them off for you, once his cock was revealed you couldn't believe your eyes, of course, he's big. He then got on top of you and seductively whispered in your ear "Are you sure you're ready" you looked at him right in his eyes and said, " I've been ready since I first talked to you." He smirked and started to guide his inches into you. As Pedro started to put in all of his inches you started to moan at the feeling of him spreading you out. Pedro left out a soft moan feeling your walls tighten around his cock. He then started to thrust into you, leaving you breathless, moans started to come out of your mouth. You hadn't felt pleasure like this by any of your other past partners. Pedro then pulls himself and says "Get on all fours, now" You were not ready for his backshots. You feel his cock getting harder and you just moan, you were so close to cumming. His dick filled your pussy in perfectly, he started to pound on you, making your ass hit him even harder. You moan loud when you cum all over his dick, he then starts to go slower, teasing you making you twitch even more "That's it mi Amor, come all over my dick", you started to feel Pedro go faster and harder making you moan and he was ready to release too. As he came he let out a moan so passionate, you could feel his hands get rougher on your soft skin and the twitching on his cock, he then pulled out and saw you leaking. He moved your cheek to the side seeing the mess he made as if that was another award he got that night.

-

After he helped you clean up, he put on your clothes, and he put on his underwear. Then you and Pedro lay down in the bed looking at each other, he whispers to you "If I would've known about you, I would've come to Miami a long time ago." You giggled and kissed him, but you realize that you were no longer tired. You fussed around in the bed for an hour or two trying to fall asleep, then Pedro asked "Can't sleep?", "No, I'm sorry I can't" you replied, you felt bad because he was probably so tired. "You want to go to the jacuzzi?" It was 5 am, and we still hadn't slept and we weren't planning on sleeping "Is that even a question?" Pedro chuckled and got up to prepare the Jacuzzi, it was nearby a big window, which gave us an amazing view. You got up and went to find something to drink for the two of you. On the table outside of the bedroom, there was a wine bottle with two glasses and a little cheese platter, you couldn't think of something better to share. Once you got back to where Pedro was, you were shocked to see him naked and in the jacuzzi, you smirk and set the things you brought down. You started to take off your clothes and he was admiring your naked body now. You brought the wine and cheese closer to you, but not yet drinking it, you went into the jacuzzi first. The warm water felt divine, but Pedro's hands and kisses all over you felt better. He was giving you small delicate kisses on your neck making everything in your body flutter, and pulsate. He then put his thick thumb on your clit and started to circle around it. You let out a soft moan not expecting his touch. He continues to go faster and faster as you got more and more turned on, moaning in his ear. He makes out with you and he just tastes delicious in your mouth, how had you missed out on this before... Pedro circling your clit and making out with you made you cum faster than you ever had before, he seemed proud of himself for pleasing you so well you came that fast. You wanted to please him back but he reminded you "I want to treat you good cariño." You were disappointed but then he started to pour the wine into the glasses.

-

After drinking some wine and eating some delicious cheese, the sun was coming up. You two were still in the hot tub sharing stories and enjoying each other's company. You admire the beautiful sunrise in front of you. Appreciating a moment in your life that is so special. Pedro then looks at you and admires your beauty "God, you are so beautiful." You look at him with a shy smile on your face and kiss him.

-

You were glad you went on that jog.

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[saturnsstufff]

The Empress (pt. III)

Hello lovelys! Incase no one told you today, I think your spectacular!

Also, lets be real. This part really shows how much I love Buff Techno

Warnings: mentions of violence, swearing, blood

   You couldn't believe what you were hearing. The Emperor was asking you to sit and eat with him. With his family. You didn't want to come off rude or impolite, so you simply nodded and walked over to the remaining open seat. Phil pulled the chair out for you a bit, you lowered yourself onto it and pushed yourself in.

   To say the room was beautiful was a understatement. The table was made of elegant dark oak, the edges lined with detailed gold. The chairs matched the table with wood. But the seats had a plush Black velvet cover over the cushions. The backs of the chairs stood taller than you, Techno's chair was the most detailed and the tallest out of them all. When you glanced up at Techno you were only met with the skull staring forward.

   You honestly became nervous now. Your hands grew clammy as you held a bit of your cloak. Yesterday you had no problem being in front of this family and now you were terrified of offending them. The Family was known for being nothing short of dangerous, and blood thirsty. Yet when you look to Philza, or Wilbur who sat in front of you. You couldn't see how, they were perceived as dangerous. Don't get yourself wrong, you saw how Techno could be seen as terrifying, the man stood at well over 6ft, maybe approaching 7ft?

   Wil watched you a bit, taking note of the complex look you had. "So where are you from?" He asked simply, taking a drink of his milk. "Dadza said you were wearing really light clothes when he met you." The boys tone was casual. Trying to set your wild nerves at ease.

   "O-oh, I'm from a little village in Madagascar" techno's mask faced you as you spoke. Showing you had his full attention. "It's pretty... small..." You tried of how to explain it but, every way you turned it in your head, it was still bland.

   "What's your village like? For the small size is it well off or strugglin'?" Phil inquired. At this a few butlers came out with platters of food. They placed a plate full of eggs, toast, sausage and oatmeal in front of Techno, Phil and you. Talk about a meal fit for a king- no pun intended. Techno only nudged his mask up a tad more. His mouth now visible more. Your eyes lingered on him. A slight scar could be seen on his lip, it looked a bit fresh if your being honest. You averted your gaze before he noticed your lingering eyes.

   "It's... struggling. We were slightly larger, but years ago there was a raid by some Pilliagers" you couldn't help your face twist into a bit of disgust. After how they humiliated your village, and father, you couldn't help hold a high distaste for them. "They ransacked what we had. The men of our village defended what they could, but too many lives were taken if you ask me." You took your fork into your hand, starting to cut up the egg.

   "Did you loose anyone close to you?" Phil spoke between bites. Only speaking when his mouth was empty. You hummed and nodded as you chewed your food. Waiting to respond out of courtesy.

   "I lost my uncle, but that luckily was all. My father was injured too, but he survived.” your eyes scanned your food, slightly pushing the food apart so it wasn't touching. “I was too young to understand when it happened, but I guess one pillager took a swing at his leg. It never healed properly since during the attack, the Pilliagers targeted the women and children mostly. Who for the most part were in charge of medicine and occasional potion brewing" You could feel Techno's lingering eyes on you. He ate in silence only listening.

   "I'm sorry to hear of your uncles demise. however, we are glad that you are ok." Phil said, resting a hand on your shoulder reassuringly. You smiled gently and nodded. the action was similar to that of what your father did. Even if Phil didn't recognize it, the little actions he did put you at ease.

   Everyone ate for a bit longer. the sounds of silverware and plates clinking were the only sound that filled the room. Techno finished his plate first. Neatly setting his dishes together. Phil and I worked at our plates still. Mostly because we were the ones talking. "What made you get into Smithing?" Phil asked. Having previously recalled you mentioning the blade was your creation.

   You took a sip of Orange juice to clear your throat of food. "When my father was injured our family suffered. Smithing was how we made money. My father couldn't stand long- he still cant. even if he could, I'm pretty sure the hammer would be too heavy for him." You paused thinking a moment. " I think I was eleven or twelve when he started showing me the tools and the trade. After a few months I could put a tool out. By no means was it good though.” You could still remember the first tool you put out. It was a twisted, warped mess. At the time you were proud, but now you rather not admit it was yours. “By the end of the year I at least could put something worth a show out. Ever since then I just continued. I didn't know how to sew or weave like my mother so I never strayed from the forge."

   "It was somthin' in your blood" Phil commented. You tilted your head slightly as you ate a bit more. Starting to feel utterly stuffed. "A lot of trade's or artistry’s get passed down so long that it just becomes part of their heritage, they seem to have a natural born talent for those knacks." He fallowed up with. "Techno is like that with sword combat" you herd a sound of disagreement from under the boar mask.

   Wil decided to chime in now. "If your blade pasts the test, what will you do with the money?" You thought a moment. In your heart you knew you had no use for it really. Your father and village however did need it.

   "I'll probably give it to my village and my father." It was a simple and cliché answer but you meant it. "I have a roof over my head at home, parents who love me, support me. For once I wanna support them." You set your spoon down. Only having ate half your oatmeal, feeling too full to finish. "My village also needs the help. The baker. The farmer. They all could use a bit of spare change." You looked up from your plate to face Phil. His eyes were kind. They glittered like your fathers, when he was proud.

   "Your very kind to offer your riches to others." you didn't expect Techno to voice his opinion. But you graciously took his complement. Your cheeks a faint pink. As you nodded. He moved his mask back to where it fit comfortably. He stood up from the table. the action commanding attention, The mask faced you. "Fetch your blade. I wish to test it."

   Ok now the nerves really set in. You stood outside on a snow covered training ground. Your head was covered by a cozy fur lined cloak. Beside you stood Wilbur, and Philza. You had the cloth wrapped sheath in your hands firmly. The sword secure in it's place. Waiting for someone to release it and show the strength it held.

   You were unsure where techno was, he was supposed to give the test but as it stood, he was nowhere to be seen. That is until he turned the corner with a thick wooden log over his shoulder. You couldn't help how your jaw dropped. You knew he had to have some strength but you didn't expect him to turn the corner with a good size Hickory log. He dropped the log in front of Phil, Wil and I. Next to it was a rather large block of ice, and a Anvil. Once Techno situated the log securely in the snow he unchained his cloak. Handing it off to Phil.

   There he stood. This monster of a man. broad shoulders drawn back, his posture perfect. Where he looked as strong as twelve oxen, he also had a elegant, ethereal beauty. His jaw was sharp, lips drawn into a thin line. His hands, although gloved, moved with precise elegance. When he breathed a puff of cloud would push itself out of the Boar's empty nasal cavity. He looked terrifyingly beautiful.

   He turned to you and outstretched his hand. A wordless request for your blade. You bit your lip. The moment had come for you to truly test it. Carefully you unwrapped the cloth, the simple sheath was the underwhelming part of the blade. however when you moved the Sheath towards Techno he made no comment on the simplicity.

   His hand easily took the handle. Skillfully he pulled the blade out. The black blade shimmered brilliantly. The purple-blue pearlescent really popped against the snow. When he saw the color of the blade you could have sworn you saw his hand falter slightly. “tis’ a beautiful blade...” was the first comment. “what is made of?” he inquired.

   You swallowed the slight lump in your throat. “It’s Netherite and Diamond” You didn't expect them to know what Netherite was, but the look Phil gave you shown that he very well knew what it was. Even Techno turned his head to face you. This is the part where you wondered if you shouldn't have said the true material.

   “Netherite eh?...” the angle was just right, you could see into the empty eye sockets and pinpoint techno’s eyes. they lingered over your blade fondly. he seemed very familiar with that type of material.

    You watched as he took notice of how the blade was well balanced. The handle was comfortable and surprisingly it fit his hands. He tossed the blade between his right and left hand. Seeing how it felt. Mentally he assumed the blade's handle would have been made small to accommodate your own hand. But he was pleasantly surprised to see you took account that maybe you would not be the one handling it. He moved the blade back to his dominant hand. Looking to the mound of ice. You felt a hand rest on your shoulder, pulling you away from Techno. You looked up to see who the hand belonged to, only realizing it was Phil. well you stood in front of Phil pressed up to him, you didn't have to look to know how much he towered over you. His wings only adding to the height. you thought it was a tad weird  that he pulled you so close, until you realized he did it to Wil was well. The action was out of protection.  your gaze shifted back to Techno. He rotated the sword in his hand once. From Phil, Wil, and your stance, all you saw was a quick movement of purple, the light bouncing of the blade beautifully as it swung. He did not delay on his swing back, it was fast and powerful. Techno simply stepped, and swung back down, hard. The idea of being on the other side of the blade seemed impossible to survive. Well he beat the sword edge against the ice, his body moved as if he was reciting a simple dance. He was testing the durability. Seeing exactly how much your blade could take. The sheer force of his hits only needed two, to break the ice chunk in half. Sliding both halves away from each other upon the swords impact. You could only watch in shock. His strength was raw and powerful. You were genuinely terrified for your little sword.

   Techno didn't let up his assault. Moving from the ice to the wood in one swift movement. Continuing to strike the hard wood. The woodchips flew in the air, you averted your eyes a bit, worried the wood might hit you. After beating a decent size gash into the wood, you spared a glance back up. He shoved the sword into the snow bank next to him. Lifting the abused log up. Placing his hands on both sides of the gash, he with little struggle, tore the log in half with his hands.

   To say that it wasn't a little bit attractive, would have been a lie. Your cheeks were pink again. but luckily you could blame it on the cold nipping at your face. You watched as techno looked at the log, now in two parts at his feet. He made no sound of disproval, or really said anything. He simply took the sword from the bank and looked over at the Anvil. ‘surely he wouldn't hit the blade on the metal’ you thought. Oh, don't worry he would. He looked down to the blade, judging it breifly before glancing the anvil. You looked away, you couldn't watch. the blade was going to break as soon as it hit the anvil. It was evident on why no one was able to past the test. The test was a fucking nightmare. 

   The only sound you could hear was a harsh ring. He did it, oh shit he really did it. Phil from above you just whistled. “tha’s a mighty blade (y/n).” you spared a glance. in Techno’s hand was your sword. structurally intact. you let out a rather large, breathy laugh of relief.

   Techno didn't congratulate you, or make a remark on your blade. instead he removed a glove and pressed his thumb to the blade. He wanted to see if it was still sharp after the pure beating it just took. You watched, now unsure if this was all positive or negative. He hummed, he wanted to say he was surprised. but he wasn't. what you didn't understand, was that he was used to Netherite. He knew it took something almost godlike to break anything with that material.

    Although the sword was beat to hell, when he pressed his thumb against the blade and applied pressure, it was still sharp enough to draw blood. He put his thumb to his lips. The hard metallic taste of blood filled his mouth from the cut he received. his lips only twisting into a bemused smirk.

    "Your blade passes" he turned to face you. Wiping his bloody thumb on his black pants before offering his hand to you in a handshake. "You are the only one that somehow designed, dare I say it. The perfect blade."

   After the event that occurred out on the field you were a giddy mess. You did it. You fallowed techno down the hall. He explained that since you did impress him, he was now wanting to open the table for a discussion and a possible contract. But first, he wanted to know how much knowledge you possess.

   He opened a large door that was detailed in gold. when you stepped in he fallowed. walking past you in a easy, lazy stride. You were in his office. the shelves were lined with books, many having titles about Mythology, histories of wars, war tactics, potion brewing, etc. The titles were endless. From the books alone you could assume he probably had knowledge on a plethora of subjects. The walls were high, the detailing never faltered however. Two Antarctica Empire flag's hung on the walls, framing the main desk. There were paintings, but unlike the one of the whole family you saw on your arrival. There was one of Phil and Techno, the mask painted on his face. The second painting was Tech and Wil. But similarly. The mask was present. Looking about a little more, there were also swords of all types on the walls. In the center of the celling there was a massive candle lit chandelier. A fireplace stood tall behind techno's desk. You only assumed the desk was placed there solely for the point of warmth.

   Technoblade took his seat at the rather large desk. His posture, was still perfect even when sitting. His hands were folded together. The rings still adorning his fingers. Everything he did, and wore just screamed elegance. "I will give you 3k for the blade. An additional 2k will be added for your trip" he said, his voice still straight.

   'Holy shit, 5k? That's far more than I thought' you were speechless. You could already imagine how the money would help. ‘Father could get the help he needed.’ ‘The farmer could build a new barn possibly’ The upgrades flowed through your mind. Hope and joy surged through your veins. "Thank you your Imperial Majesty..."

"You said you used Netherite, correct?" You nodded to him. The mask was facing you, he was quiet. But you assumed he was thinking. "Were did you find the Neitherite?" He leaned onto his desk, moving his folded hands to the desk top. Resting his head on his hands.

"A man in my village had it. It was pretty cheap to buy it off him" you thought back to the man. Trying to recall the conversation. "He uh.." you paused trying to remember it properly. "Oh- he said it was a great material when used properly. But he couldn't understand what he needed to achieve it." Techno stayed quiet a moment.

"So how did you come by the proper techniques?" He questioned. You thought back again. It was a off day when you discovered it really. You weren't trying to use it. It just fell into your pan.

"Well, I was trying to make a diamond sword for a sister village originally. But when my pan was over the fire heating, I had left the room. Not realizing the small chunk of Netherite I had on top of the mantle had somehow fallen in. When I came back I saw the discoloration of the metal, that wasn't normal so I pulled it from the fire. When it cooled I noticed it made a unusual harder substance, so from there I just started experimenting with it" he nodded and pondered what you said. He didn't linger on the subject for long however, Instead he changed it.

"I have a proposition for you. That is... if your interested of course" You looked to him. Showing he had your attention. He had mentioned something along the lines of a deal well you walked down the hall with him. "With your permission, I would like to hire you as the royal blacksmith." The skull never faced away from you. You swallowed thickly.

   "You mean... I would work here?" Your brows furrowed. "I don't live anywhere close to here..." he nodded his head, shrugging a bit.

   "I'm aware" he paused. "We would give you a room, Pay you weekly, you would have benefits. Access to the best quality material" he didn't rush all the information out. He simply just read the list from his mind. "The only thing in exchange, is for you to make my armor, weapons, and anyone else I deem fit for them." It was a basic comply. He wanted you to work for him. Have your craft explicitly his only.

   You shifted your weight as you stood. "Do I have to make a choice now?" You were hoping you didn't have to hurry this. you were already hesitant on bringing the sword down here, but now the idea of staying in this frozen tundra had you uncertain. Yes you would live in wealth, and possible glory. But, at the cost of being over a thousand miles away from your family. You also were still uncertain of the land itself.

   Techno shrugged a bit. "I mean, I'm in no particular hurry" he explained. Tilting his head to the side a tad. If you accept, you knew what it meant. Your devotion to a nation, to the royal family, to the Emperor. You really would be making a shot in the dark.

   "If I work here. Could I send the money elsewhere?" He watched you. You couldn't see his eyes, but you could feel them eating away at you.

   "We can arrange that." You watched him in turn. Trying to see if he had a underlying plan, or possible catch to add. "I mean, I am a lenient man" his hands unclasped. Opening his arms slightly to motion to himself.

   "R-right... of course" you nodded. Agreeing with him, not wishing to anger him. He pondered a moment before he stood from his chair. The chains, and pendants around his neck jingling slightly from his movement.

   "I look forward to hearing your answer"

   About a week had gone by before you had your answer. During the said week you started to notice the family had a slight routine. Phil would come for you in the morning to walk you to the dining hall for breakfast. after that Wilbur would either roam to the music room, or to the library to do some of his studies. Techno was harder to pinpoint, sometimes he would leave to his office, be in the library, or other times he would walk towards the room with the planes. No matter what, Phil kept you in good company and made you fell welcomed.

   You choose to tell techno of your answer over dinner. Assuming it would be a decent time since that was when everyone was together. The dinner was casual. Since your stay was expanded, the boys would roam the hall’s in there casual wear instead of there more formal, business attire.

   “So I've thought on it..” Your voice broke through the peaceful silence. Techno and Phil lifted there heads to address you. Wil looked up at you as well, the noodles from the dinner slipping from his lips back into the soup bowl. “I’ll work for you... if you would still have me.”.

“of course we’ll have ya’” Phil said, his smile wide. “It’s been nice havin’ someone new and different around these halls” you smiled a little and nodded to him, looking over to Techno. 

“I do have two questions though...” techno gave a slight nod to you, motioning for you to continue. "If I choose to quit at any point. Could I?" Techno, hummed and nodded.

"Of course, that would only be right." a bit of weight was lifted from your shoulders knowing this wasn't a endless contract type of deal.

”My other question is a bit personal, but could I go back to my village to explain my new job to my parents? I don't feel right sending it through a letter.” You chewed your lip, hoping you weren't over stepping your bounds of what you could request.

Phil answered for Techno. “I don't see why not, me and Tech were discussing going on a trip anyway.” your eyes lit up, you would see your parents again. “You could tag along with us. of course we’ll be making trips other than Madagascar. techno was talking about visiting Russia, and France” you tilted your head a bit.

“why Russia? you already live on a ice cube” you said, humoring Phil, earning a chuckle.

“They have a few things Techno and I have been looking for” he said, continuing back on his dinner. You thought on it a moment and shrugged. nodding your head, you turned your attention back to your food. 

“when would you like to leave?” you asked, curious of when you should pack your bag again. Techno hummed a bit.

“We were thinking of leaving in two days time.” He set his fork down before looking up at you. “I wouldn't worry about packing, we will not be traveling in our typical attire. We plan to dress down” Techno said as he wiped his mouth with the napkin. “I'll have some simpler clothes sent to your room”

You were a little surprised. They planned to travel, but not in there imperial attire? That's what you assumed he meant at least. Either way you were excited. Not only would you be seeing your parents, but you also would be taken to Russia and France. Man if this was your new job, you could get used to this.

@goldensunshineshit @snobunns @olyink @lolitsellieletsgobro

#technoblade x reader #technoblade x you #techno x reader #TE

[slashbitch2]

The Very Nosy Neighbour

this fic was 100% inspired by this one here , but I mean it practically wrote itself I couldn't resist

NSFW

You can't remember much past waking up in an unfamiliar room- though 'room' is really a sugarcoated description, as in reality it qualifies more as some kind of cavern. You're sitting in a chair, ankles and wrists bound by an indistinguishable material. Whatever the binds are made of feels strong, so any attempts to struggle against it are futile. Yet, in spite of what really should be an extremely stressful situation, you find yourself completely relaxed. You briefly wonder whether you've been drugged, but with every sense feeling fully operational, that theory is soon dismissed.

Instead of choosing a more logical response to the circumstances you've found yourself in, you decided to focus more on your surroundings: not to form any resemblance of an escape plan, but simply out of curiosity. Although, the investigation is equally as ineffective. You're unable to name anything around you except for stone walls, strange (glowing?) vines and weird symbols carved above a few archways. Everything beyond that is either entirely lost to you, or shrouded in darkness.

With little else to do, you start to think back on the events that led you there, trying to glean any useful information from the blurry memories. The clearest image, therefore the most recent, is the smirking face of a woman, Agnes you realise. Though the malicious glint in her eyes doesn't quite match your perception of the nosy neighbour. But where is she now? Is she also in danger? You may not have known Agnes for very long, but are reluctant to let any harm come to her regardless.

With a clearer head, you consider calling for help, but a small voice at the back of your subconscious warns you against this. And the voice sounds smart, so you elect to listen to it. But what should you do instead? Where did this voice come from? And most importantly, should you trust it? Luckily, you aren't given much time to overthink the decision.

While trying to tune into this voice, footsteps echo in the distance, gradually drawing nearer. You hold your breath as the sound suddenly stops, leaving your eyes scanning the vicinity for any movement. The unpleasant reality dawns on you all too quickly: the footsteps were approaching from behind you.

“Well, well, well.” Someone says playfully, then snorts as they start walking closer. "Sorry to be a total cliché. I couldn't resist." It's Agnes. She narrows her eyes and smirks, folding her arms as she examines your constrained form. Subjected to her scrutiny, you find yourself swallowing, but your throat is too dry. Other small discomforts also become noticeable; your cramped limbs, aching back and the bruises on your hands. Well at least you put up a fight. The more rational part of you, however, realises that your hands are no longer bound. You stare down at them, flexing each finger as if checking they were all still fully functional.

Something suddenly knocks into your head and you grimace. Left reeling from the impact, you realise that you're slightly nauseated. Though not enough to stop you from reaching out to grasp the floating cup of water. The fact that the glass is suspended in mid-air doesn't go unnoticed, rather ignored, since there's too much happening simultaneously to comprehend any of it in sufficient detail. You swirl the liquid round, hesitant to drink, unwilling to trust your captor's apparent mercy.

"Drink up, dear." Agnes drags a chair forward, which seems to have just appeared out of thin air. She sits backwards on it, legs spread and arms resting on the back casually. "That's all you're getting until we're done here." The tone of her voice is both threatening and teasing. You're reluctant to admit it's quite a turn on.

One glance up at her prying expression and you relent, downing the chilled water way too quickly. Though you aren't given a chance to mourn your impatience, as with an effortless wave of her hand, Agnes refills the glass. While you sip at the water, she refuses to tear her eyes away from you for even a second. It's slightly disconcerting.

“Now," She claps her hands, startling you. "I assume you know why you’re here?”

“Not really.” You confess, unable to pinpoint why anyone would go to so much effort to kidnap you, especially Agnes, who up to this point had been an eccentric yet kind neighbour.

She sighs, more for show than anything else, and rubs at her temple. "Come on Y/N, let's not play dumb now."

Embarrassingly, a heat begins to pool deep in your gut, but you quickly dismiss the unwarranted lust. "I don't know what you mean."

"Oh really?" She quirks an eyebrow, sitting upright. "You really have no idea?" The inquiry is ridiculing, and you can see that your naivety is starting to annoy her.

All you can do is shake your head and pray the sincerity is reflected in your eyes.

"Okay." She slams her hands down on her thighs. "I guess we'll have to go about this the hard way then, toots." A sharp gesture and your hands are bound before you once again.

By the time you're looking up, she's striding toward you with purpose, which does nothing to ease the building heat between your legs. Her hands clasp on the armrests either side, essentially trapping you, not like escape would've been possible without the extra precaution. Up close you finally recognize this isn't Agnes- in fact it never has been. There's a feral yet wise appearance to her, the facade of nosy neighbour dissolved in an instance to be replaced by a deranged, frighteningly powerful woman (or witch, you're undecided).

Despite your better judgement, you're unable to stop yourself from asking. "Who are you?" Your voice barely breaches a whisper, but she's standing close enough that nothing less intimate is required.

She looks mildly impressed, the corner of her mouth twitching almost indiscernibly. "Agatha Harkness." She extends a hand, smirking upon realisation that you're a little too tied up at the minute to reciprocate. "Lovely to meet you."

You swallow again, finding your throat to be a little less dry. "Likewise." Then decide to take another risk. "So what do you want from me?"

“Wanda's true identity.” She replies so quickly that you almost miss it, looking at you with an eagerly expectant expression.

Agatha's question confuses you further. “I don’t know what you mean.” Although your answer is honest, something at the back of your mind hisses lies.

"There's no need to lie here." Her patient humour had disappeared. "Trust me, no one will hear you, so drop the act."

For some unbeknown reason, her accusation angers you. "I'm not putting on an act, I don't know why I'm here or what you want from me." The bravery dissipates all of a sudden as you remember that you're not exactly in the position to command such authority. "Please, stop this."

Agatha purses her lips, stands up and turns away from you. She calmly moves forwards a few paces, and in the short amount of time you manage to convince yourself that she's given up. Until in a completely unprovoked move, she swings her hands to the left, sending her chair crashing into the wall in frustration. Whether this is part of her interrogation performance or not, it works. Your heart starts racing, and confusingly, the awkward heat between your legs pulses.

She runs a hand through her hair, still facing away from you. "Don't make this any harder harder than it needs to be." You can practically hear her grinding her teeth, but don't doubt that she was getting some enjoyment out of the situation.

"I can tell you that Wanda is my sister and only real family, that I moved to Westview with her and that I couldn't live without her." You start listing off some basic facts, desperate to prove to Agatha that nothing is hidden. That you're normal.

"What about your brother?" She swivels round, clicking her fingers as she tries to recall something. "Pietro!" She exclaims.

"Pietro..." You falter. Why does the name sound so familiar? The nausea worsens. You shake off the feeling. "Never heard of him."

“Liar.” In one swift movement, Agatha is right by your ear. The feeling of her lips brushing against your skin causes you to close your eyes. The close proximity was becoming overwhelming, and your body had chosen to react in a rather unfortunate way. Admittedly, you'd always had a thing for Agnes, but Agatha was on a whole other level. You dreaded to open your eyes, worried that she'd noticed your current state. Instead, you internally begged for mercy.

“Don't go all shy on me now.” She pushes your shoulder into the chair, compelling you to open your eyes. "If you don't want to talk, I have other methods." Her hand raises, a purple flow emanating from the tips of her fingers. It crackles and sparks, as if the power was barely contained, yet as she shifts closer to brush the hair out of your face, you don't flinch. One finger remained touching your forehead, then traced down to your jaw, and finally along to grasp your chin.

While the vaguely sinister movement terrified you, it also forced you hold your breath and grip onto the armrests for dear life. Why you'd decided this was hot was beyond you considering the many connotations of her words, yet your thighs pressed tighter together as she drew closer. You attempted to turn your head to the side, longing for distraction, but her hold on you kept your head still.

"This won't be much fun for you, dear." She sighed in mock pity, her breath hot against your skin... Which just tipped you over the edge. As hard as you tried to stifle the noise, a broken moan escaped your lips. You'd definitely hit a low point here. Too ashamed to face your apparent arousal, you screwed your eyes shut. Although, at Agatha's silence, you relented and opened them barely a minute later.

To your relief, or perhaps dismay, the woman was grinning like a maniac. Her eyes flickered down to your parted lips as she chewed on her own. Then carefully, as if she were testing the waters, her fingers began to rub against your jaw, and upwards to your mouth. Your breath deceives you by hitching as her thumb slips between your lips, stroking your tongue. At the contact, you can't help but arch into the touch. Agatha chuckles.

"I take it back." She murmurs, removing her hand. "This will be fun." Although the intimidation factor prevails, there's a certain desire mirrored in Agatha's expression which cancels out any remaining common sense. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, and even if you wanted to, there was little you could do to stop her. So, you give into your yearning, sighing as she climbs to sit on your lap. Immediately, her hand switches to gripping the back of your neck as she slams her mouth onto yours. You willingly indulge by opening further, allowing her tongue to slide between your lips. Her other hand lowers to grab at your chest, like she were trying to tug herself impossibly closer.

Without removing her lips, the hand massaging your chest shifts to your thigh. She still keeps her lips firmly pressed to yours, and with the lack of oxygen, you can feel yourself growing lightheaded. It almost feels like a challenge, one which you're determined to succeed at. Though when she eventually does break away, her hand suddenly slips between your thighs, and your breath is stolen from you once more. Wasting no time, she massages you through your clothes, dragging out an inevitable whine. The touch is both too much, and not enough. But judging by her malevolent smirk, that was exactly her intention.

Even though you were currently incapable of producing any reasonable thought, you still noticed that Agatha wasn't entirely unaffected. Her breathing was laboured, hips occasionally jerking against your thigh and eyes struggling to stay open. The influence you were having on her only encouraged you to moan louder, craving to see her equally dishevelled. Your plan seemed to momentarily fail as her hand retreated. But you'd certainly earned her attention.

She licks her lips, then abruptly changes her expression to look disturbingly like that of Agnes. "You wouldn't leave me out of the fun now, would you dear?" Her voice is high pitched as she basically sings her words. Although the question must've been rhetorical as doesn't await a response, instead you find your hands unbound, flung behind your back and bound together all in a matter of seconds. Then, she shifted her position, yanking your bodies closer so that your crotches were pressed together. She grunts, heaving forward to rest against you for a moment and regain her composure. And finally, without warning, starts to grind your hips together.

It doesn't take long for her movement to become more frantic, accompanied by her hair spilling onto her face. She remains impressively quiet, however, or perhaps you were just comparably loud. With the little pride you have left, you decide to take matters into your own hands, and start meeting each thrust with equal vigour. Miraculously, it works. She throws her head back with a remarkably loud moan, proceeded by change in strategy as she starts almost bouncing on top of you, hips losing their rhythm, pleasure overwhelming her. Startled by her lack of self-control, the heat in your stomach begins building exponentially fast. Your eyes slam shut.

A hand grasps onto your face. “Look at me!” She growls, then emphasises her demand by rolling her hips torturously slowly. The movement ceases. She leans her forehead against yours, staring directly into your eyes. “Come with me.” To your surprise, there's an audible plea in her voice.

At a loss for words, you nod. The pleasure had been building for so long that you knew it'd only take a few more grinds to push you over the edge. With your confirmation, Agatha resumes her thrusting, though soon succumbs, throwing her head back and uttering an exceptionally loud, high-pitched moan. She arches her back, pressing herself so far into you that the pleasure peaks. You groan, lurching backwards in a moment of pure bliss. All you can feel is Agatha, all you can think about is Agatha. Coming down from the high, you sigh and collapse forward to bury your face in the crook of her neck.

She tenses slightly at the contact, but soon relaxes into the strange embrace. You gently press your lips against her skin and feel her shiver, confirming your suspicion that it'd been a while since Agatha had received such affection. Motivated by a new, more innocent desire, you continue to pepper light kisses across her throat and behind her ear, simply enjoying the unexpectedly intimate moment.

Agatha finally breaks the silence, leaning away from your touch to look down at you curiously. "Wanda really has you under her mind control too, huh?"

Although still stuck in a post-coital haze, you muster enough brainpower to consider her words. "Mind control?"

"Oh, right." She smirks, a slight sadness perceptible in her eyes. "Forgot to mention." Before you can say anything, she swings one leg to the side, stiffly sliding off your lap and clasping her hands together. "You might want to reconsider where your loyalties lie, dear." She glances at you, then ambles to the opposite side of the room. "That's one fucked up family situation right there." Her voice teasingly calls out.

You feel yourself flush, strangely offended by her comment, and annoyed by her vagueness. "Like you can talk." Your response is a total shot in the dark, but must've hit a nerve since she slowly turns back to you, a suspicious expression upon her face. "Just a guess." You add, unwilling to know the details of whatever sensitive topic you'd just touched upon. Agatha easily shrugs it off, leaving behind a stifling silence. Eventually, it's a mixture of your own boredom and concern that prompts you to end the lull in conversation. "Are you still planning on interrogating me about something I know nothing about?"

"Oh, no I read your mind." She waves a dismissive hand over her shoulder. "Got all I needed."

Again, you're left suffocating in the confusion her ambiguity provokes, with nothing else to ask except. "How...?"

The inquiry must've been exactly what Agatha wanted to hear as she immediately dropped what she was doing to turn around and lean on the wall, arms folded in a casually smug pose. "Sex leaves you vulnerable." She smirked. "All I did was take advantage of the opportunity- but I'll spare you the boring details." With a flourish of her hand and a flash of purple, the binds holding your ankles and wrists disappeared. "You can go now. First door on the left."

Without sparing you another glance, she busied herself with some witchy task, allowing you to see yourself out. Massaging your wrists, you stood slowly, watching her expectantly. Surely she wouldn't just let you leave? Yet as you sauntered over to the door she'd directed you to, she made no move to stop you. "Bye then?"

Agatha looked up at you and winked. "See you around, neighbour."

#agatha harkness x reader #agnes x reader #agatha harkness

[morosemagick]

Warriors of Menace | Finan x Reader One Shot

My entry for Rosie's 100 Follower Challange!!

Prompt: “You are very well behaved today. What have you done?”

Warning: Absolutely none, just a shit ton of fluff lol

Words: 2121

Tagged:

@solinarimoon @emilyhufflepufftlk @for-bebbanburg @evelynshelby @lauwrite1225 @obipoelover @magravenwrites

Life is much different for you now than it was five years ago. Long gone are the days where there was a shyness about you, and your nerves rattled at the idea of forming friendships of this ragtag band of warriors. Time has been good to you, and after years of being a part of this little, mix-matched family founded by Uhtred of Bebbanburg, it’s safe to say you knew these men well. You understand all of their quirks and knew all the signs of how they behaved. The good days and the bad days were easy to recognize, and when mood swings would accord or the occasional argument between them would happen you’d know just how to put out the fire.

It’s this ability to understand these misunderstood warriors that brought you close to Finan, and in what felt like a blink of an eye… you were his wife.

And he was an excellent husband.

You understood him the most. Finan could not hide his moods from you. Happiness, frustration, anger. You knew the calling card for all of his moods, and he knew all of yours. When you first realized he had feelings for you, you could pinpoint all the little things he would try to do to get you to realize he loved you. It was heartwarmingly adorable and you didn’t let him go long without telling him you felt the same. Since your marriage, you have been a unit in sync. There is nothing Finan can hide from you after almost four years of marriage.

Including when he’s being an absolute menace.

You're in your kitchen making lunch, a large pot of stew over the fire because part of you already expects to feed more than just your family. It’s what you do at this point. You may have married Finan, but you feel like you married the whole crew of warriors with the way you care for them. The food is just about done when, just as expected, Finan comes bursting through the front door with Sihtric in tow.

By the way they come in giggling like children, you know they’re up to no good.

“I know you are not tracking dirt through my home, Finan,” You tell him as you stir your wooden spoon through the pot, and you can hear your husband coming up from behind you.

He kisses the side of your head, “I would never, darlin’,” Finan snickers, placing a hand on your rather round belly, “And how is the wee man today?”

“You are going to regret calling her that when she reveals herself as a daughter,” You smirk as you glance his way and he gives you another kiss, “Speaking of wee men, where is Aethelstan?”

“With Osferth and Eadith,” Sihtric explains as he sits at your table, and you can hear Finan walk around your home. When you glance back, he’s making the table for four.

“And what is he doing with Osferth and Eadith?” You ask as you fully turn around to look at both men, only to find them poorly failing at hiding their smiles, “Finan?”

“Yes, my love?” He asks as he returns to your side, and by his smile you know he's up to no good.

"Where is that boy of yours, and do not lie to me," You tell him with a raised brow and arms crossed so he knows you mean business.

You call Aethelstan just his when the two of them are on your nerves, but the boy is yours. Even though, technically, he is not.

"He's doing us a favor, Y/N, he will be home shortly," Sihtric tells you, trying to save Finan from whatever hole he's currently digging himself.

"Uh-huh," You smirk and now Finan is carefully trying to push you away from the food you are cooking, "What are you doing?"

"Finishin’ for you," Finan tells you with another kiss on your head, "Go sit, I'll bring the pot to the table."

You glance between the two men and head to the table anyway, sitting down next to Sihtric, "Who are you two, and what have you done with my husband and his best friend?"

"We are always this compassionate, Y/N," Finan chuckles as he brings over lunch, "Oi, go grab bread," he whistles to Sihtric and the Dane stands and does as he's told, "You shouldn't be workin' so hard when you're busy makin' us such a wonderful child."

Okay, now you know they're up to no good.

Before you can ask what they’ve done, Aethelstan all but bursts through the front door, slamming it rather hard for a child before realizing you are at the table staring at him. He smiles wide, the cheeky grin a telltale sign of trouble he picked up from Finan in the year of you raising him. He walks directly to you, like he hasn’t done a thing wrong, and places a kiss on your cheek. (Another sign he’s gotten from Finan, as well.) “Hello, Mother.”

“Go clean yourself up before lunch, you little trouble maker,” Your smirk at the boy, and Finan ruffles his hair as he runs off. The two of you aren’t really supposed to let him call you by those names, but neither of you has the heart to tell him otherwise. Besides, it’s already been a year and if he wants to call you Mother and Father that’s exactly what he’s going to call you.

Aethelstan cleans himself up and then joins you all at the table, sitting down across from Sihtric and next to Finan. The two of them move in sync as they fold their hands over together above their food, and to the side of you, Sihtric lowers his head in respect for your religion.

“Thank you, Father, for this delicious meal we are about to receive, and for this family you allowed us to grow,” Finan prays and you just stare at him with eyebrows scrunched and your lip curled into a smirk.

Because you know that getting Finan to pray before meals is usually a hassle.

“In your name, we pray,” Aethelstan continues, “Ahem.”

The three of you sign to your God and Sihtric just keeps his head down till you are done, and then the three men start to eat. You, however, just continue to stare at your husband until he finally looks at you and smiles, “What?”

“You are all very well behaved today,” You start to tell them all, and Finan just smiles wider as you lean forward and rest your chin in your hand, “What have you done?”

“You know us, Y/N, nothin’ too awful,” Finan starts to explain.

“It’s true, Y/N,” Sihtric adds as he rips himself a piece of the bread loaf, “We only do things out of love. That’s just the kind of warriors we are.”

“Aye, he’s right.” Finan agrees as he continues eating.

“Oh, I am sure,” You say in response even though you don’t believe any of them, but luckily enough for them your too hungry to push the topic further. So instead, you start to eat the lunch you’ve slaved over and enjoy this time with your family.

The meal is mostly quiet, albeit some sweet words of gratitude from the men at your table, thankful for the meal you prepared for them. You almost make it through the whole thing in peace, when a knock at your door startles the men.

“Finan? Sihtric! I know you are in there,” It’s Osferth, and he sounds rather frustrated. He knocks on the door again, a little harder, as the two men at your table start to slowly rise and head for the back room. “Open up! We need to talk, now!”

Finan and Sihtric start to sneak for the back door, shit-eating grins on both of their faces, “We were not here, Y/N, we have not been home all mornin’.” He tells you as they make their escape, leaving you there to roll your eyes and answer the door yourself.

When you open the door to greet Osferth, he looks absolutely flustered, “Osferth, how are you today?”

“Lady, I have been better,” He’s always so polite, the sweet former monk, and no matter how many times you tell him not to call you lady, he cannot seem to shake his manners, “I hate to bother you, but I need to speak with Finan and Sihtric.”

You chuckle, folding your arms across your belly, “You just missed them, but I have some stew left over from lunch if you are hungry.”

“I should be on my way, I really need to speak with them,” Osferth explains as he rubs at the back of his neck and you chuckle at the shyness he holds after years of friendship.

"Osferth, come in and tell me what my husband and Sihtric have done," You open your door wider and move to the side so he can come in, and after a second of hesitation, he sighs and complies.

Osferth walks over to the table that Aethelstan has managed to vanish from without you noticing and slumps into his seat, "I am going to kill them." He groans half-heartedly.

You laugh, grabbing him a clean bowl before joining him at the table, "What did they do?"

"Sihtric told Eadith I am interested in her, and then Finan had Aethelstan pick flowers for her saying they were from me," Osferth sighs heavily as you serve him some stew, "They've ruined everything."

"I thought you did fancy Eadith? What's the problem?" You ask him as you put the bowl of stew in front of him.

"She does not think of me in that way," He groans, looking defeated, "Now she'll think I'm a pervert who only wishes to hump her."

"Or she will think you are shy, and that Finan and Sihtric should mind their own business," You tell him as he eats through his frustration, "My husband may be a menace, but he does the stupid things he does out of love."

"She does not think of me in that way, Y/N," He tells you as he temporarily lowers his spoon, "She is beautiful… and I am just- a baby monk."

You laugh with a big smile across your face because your friend couldn't be any more wrong, "Is that really what you think? Osferth, she is clearly fallen for you."

"Do not pity me, Lady, I do not need your lies to lift my spirit," He tells, looking defeated as he finishes his stew.

"Enough of this," You tell him as you take away the dirty dishes and rise from your seat, "You will go to Eadith and confess your feelings, or I will send Aethelstan to do it for you."

"Y/N-"

"Go! Now, before the day is over," You command, shoo-ing him from your table, as he reluctantly rises, "And be sure to come back to thank me when it's over."

He groans as he walks out of your home, making you laugh as you start cleaning plates. A moment or two after he's gone, you can hear creaking coming from your bedroom, and then two big arms wrap around your body.

"Where is Sihtric?" You ask your husband, not needing to turn around to confirm it's him because you would recognize these arms anywhere.

"Gone home to his own wife," Finan tells you with a kiss, "Enjoyin' his final days before Osferth certainly murders us all."

"He will not murder anyone," You chuckle as you turn around, still in his arms, "Osferth may not have your confidence or Sihtrics' flirting skills but I am positive he will find that Eadith shares his feelings."

"How are you so sure?" Finan scrunches his brows in confusion, "And what do you know of how Sihtric flirts?"

You chuckle, standing on your toes to reach your husband's lips as you give him a kiss, "I just know things, my love, it is my gift from God."

Finan grabs you by the cheeks as you lower yourself, kissing you with much more passion, his lips still on yours as he growls, "If I find out Sihtric has tried to bed my wife-"

"It was long before you were mine," You tell him with a smirk, "No need to start anything over it now."

"That is my gift, mo ghrá," He snickers as his kisses move from your lips to your neck, "I am a Warrior of Menace, after all."

You couldn't argue with that as your warrior brings you back to bed, determined to show you just how much he was yours.

An excellent husband, indeed.

#finan x reader #finan #finan the agile #the last kingdom #tlk fanfic #tlk #tlk osferth #tlk sihtric #tlk finan #tlk aethelstan #rosies100 #mcloveproductions

[battlemaiden13]

Okay final question (sorry i read some and now I'm on a kick). How wpuld the yandere skeles react if their s/o died? Like, nobody knows how, but one day they find their s/o brutally attacked and either dead or near dead in their room of the mansion house? It can't have been self inflicted and they know the only others in the house were the skeles. What would they do upon finding him/her? Whether the S/O's dead or just seriously injured you can pick

Sans -being the strongest in the house it doesn’t take him long to beat out any information he needs to figure out who did this. Honestly it’s really scary when he starts hunting down his housemates and he shows no mercy, after all they didn’t give you a chance why should he give them any.

Papyrus -He goes crying to his brother. Although he is a yandere he also keeps up the fact that everyone in the house likes him, he is after all nice until someone gives him a reason not to be and someone just gives him a huge reason. The rest of the house basically jumps to his aid and your assaulter doesn’t have a chance.

Red -Basically destroys half of the house in one go. He is not happy and basically looking for a fight. No one can talk him down and he will either kill everyone, learn who hurt you and make them pay or die trying. He is in full rage mode here and is clearly not thinking straight. Luckily he knows how to fight.

Edge -Is actually surprisingly calm about it. He asks around but if he can’t pinpoint exactly who it was that hurt you then he is just going to poison the entire household with no hesitation. Of course if the real culprit steps up beforehand they will be the only one enjoying this poisoned meal.

Blue -Out of everyone he is someone you don’t want to snap and the rest of the house should have known that. He knows everyone else's weaknesses and he also knows how to make them pay for even thinking about laying a hand on you. He is scary and fast, smiling the whole time that he is cutting down his roommates.

Orange -He already knows who hurt you, he’s not an idiot, he wanted to protect you so of course he has cameras everywhere. There is little to no fuss when it comes to him getting his revenge. He may even enlist the help of the others to dust your assaulter.

Berry -He snaps. He will kill everyone in the house if he has to in order to get to whoever would dare hurt you. He is fueled by rage and blinded by fear of what might happen to you. No one is safe at the moment and he won’t stop until he knows who hurt you and made them pay.

Syrup -He stabilizes you first. There is no way he is just letting you die. Then he cleverly goes on the hunt. He doesn’t want to raise suspicion but he is fuming as he tries to figure out who would hurt you. When he does they are in for a real bad time in which there will be no recovery.

#Undertale #undertale imagines #undertale sans #undertale papyrus #underfell #Underfell Papyrus #underfell sans #underSwap #underswap papyrus #underswap sans #swapfell #swapfell papyrus #swapfell sans

[shleepys]

AYYYY I hope you all were safe over the holidays and continue to stay safe over these next few months! Right now my state is dealing with record high covid numbers and a bunch of snow, might be different for you guys but hey, even though we're kicking off the start of a new year we still have to be aware of what's been going on and continue to push through it. But yeah!

We can finally reveal for the @harringroveholidayexchange, so I hope you enjoy what I made for the amazing @catharrington! I don't know how everyone else is formatting theirs if they did fic and art but I'm going to put both here! 💕

- - - - -

Overlooked

prompt! - I’ve always loved the differences in the two boys while growing up, I imagine Steve having huge Christmas parties with champagne flutes and the works and Billy being invited and happy to spend time with Steve, he really is!, it’s just a lot he isn’t used to. All up to author interpretations: make as fluffy or angsty as you want ;)

summary! - Steve forgets they were supposed to hang out elsewhere while his parents threw their annual Christmas party and agrees to stay.

Luckily, Billy doesn’t mind!

The only problem is, they don’t get to hang out... and Billy starts to feel overlooked.

- - - - -

Billy couldn’t be more out of place.

Parties were his thing, don’t get that wrong. He could get drunk, smoke, fuck, do whatever and if Steve was with him, only then it was infinitely better. 

But this wasn’t a party. Not the party he knew. It felt more like a corporate gathering or a birthday for someone he didn’t know and he only ended up on the list because his boyfriend’s involved. Which wouldn’t be a problem if everyone around him wasn’t two to three times his age and he actually got to hang out with said boyfriend. 

But it’s fine. It’s been fine so far.

Crystal champagne flutes and ugly holiday sweaters just aren’t necessarily Billy’s forte. He can’t fathom how much Steve’s parents spent on this party alone and can only bet that it cost more than the monthly payment for the house on Cherry Road. Not that he has much resentment towards what Steve’s parents do with their money but it just seems… unnecessary. 

He takes a sip from his flute, rustling the jacket resting on his lap before leaning further into the sofa to try and wait this out despite already being here for what seems like hours. Billy gradually looks up again and stares into the other room where he can see Steve and his parents.

He can’t see their faces, but he can see Steve’s. Their backs are turned to him - Steve’s off to the side - they’re merely silhouettes so he can’t tell if his parents are just being gregarious or snobby. Then again, neither of them really talk about their parents so Billy has no clue.

Billy watches as a couple leaves, the discomfort continues to overrule Steve’s face as suddenly another appears and the cycle starts over again for what seems about the hundredth time. He huffs, kicking the shagged carpet beneath him before lowly cursing himself out. Should he have reminded him what they were going to do tonight? Or would Steve have rather stayed here? 

He can’t tell whether or not Steve’s just over some of the pretentious attitudes and comments he’s overheard in the past hour or that he’s trying to break the chain and get over to him so they can do something together. He could always get drunk and wait for Steve to get done, he knows where the brunette keeps a bottle of scotch that he stole from his dad’s liquor cabinet in the office. 

He blinks, lips sucked in to form a seal as he thinks. “Should I go home?” Billy whispers, soft and hurt. There’s not really a point in staying and maybe he can see if Jonathan has anything new to smoke. Deep, contemplative breath.

Billy stands up and discards his glass on the side table next to him before throwing on his coat and grabbing his scarf. Everything from then to going outside flashed by like a blur, nothing of importance really stricken in his mind other than colored sweaters and the sheen of champagne glasses hitting his eye. His breath is almost heavy as he opens the door and a wave of ice rushes over him. It bites at his nose, almost makes him want to itch it but he ventures out regardless. Billy slowly closes it behind him.

Billy sighed softly, eyes falling to the ground. It’s been snowing all day. Coming and going with the wind and dusting every road, house, and tree with freckles of white. Granted, everything was coated before it got too dark and hopefully, the roads weren’t iced over for any of the poor drunks inside. Steam rolled from his mouth as he exhaled before taking a deep breath. Billy threw the end of his scarf over his shoulder and looked out where his car should be, a somber smile passing his lips but twisting into a frown. Steve told him he could park where his family parks.

His feet felt like they were superglued to the deck, that, or like boulders had been tied to the ends of them. Billy bit his bottom lip and fidgeted with his coat pockets, sort of kicked the snow from under him.

He swallowed hastily, a lump bouncing in his throat as he looked out again. Couldn’t pinpoint the emotion to anything else but a pang of burning guilt. Maybe he should have just gone up to him, shouldn’t have made a big deal out of feeling left out, taken him away from his parents so they could go upstairs or leave.

Someone jerked open the sliding doors. Light poured from the inside, Billy twisted around to identify the backlit figure expecting a drunk only to find a breathless, seemingly worried Steve. Billy wanted to furrow his brows and walk off into the snow where he knew damn well Steve wouldn’t go into with house shoes on, but for some reason, he stayed put. Watches as Steve shuts the door behind him and rubs at his arm.

“What are you doing out here?”

Billy doesn’t respond.

Steve seems to catch on, and their eyes lock. 

There have been times when Billy goes outside during a party to catch his breath, maybe sneak around back to talk to Steve about one thing or another, maybe drunkenly make out and hope no one was watching or Tommy had their back. But they hadn’t been to a party for a long while, not since September. And, Billy doesn’t just bring his car keys with him to ‘catch his breath’.

Billy broke contact with a sharp ‘huh’. “Did you forget about me?"

“What? No! Why would you think that?” Steve shuddered, pulling his hands into his sleeves.

Billy looked back up with dagger-like eyes, “Because it seems an awfully lot like you did.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

He could bite back, the very opportunity hanging in front of his nose. But he didn’t. Instead, a familiar quiver caught his lip. Lingering feelings creeping up and forcing his hand to itch at his pocket. Billy shook his head, eyes falling to the ground. 

Steve frowned, aware of the events to follow. He’s known the other long enough to recognize the outline of Marlboros in any pocket. Deep down wishes there was some other habit Billy bid in, but that’s a matter of discussion that needs to be saved for later.

Eventually, the pack came out. Steve chewed on the inside of his cheek as he watched Billy, his lighter flaring until the end emitted a pale red before shakily tucking it away. He shook his head again slow and somber like. 

“I’m sorry.” Billy started, hands moving along with his words. “And it’s not that I don’t want to be here. You’re just,” he sighed, “busy.”

Steve’s lips sealed tightly at the comment. He saw the discomfort present in the other’s sentences, could feel guilt churn in the pit of his stomach. Thing is Steve wasn’t the slightest bit spiteful, he was pissed at himself for not taking action to check up on the other. Not considering bringing another friend with them in case something like this happened. He’s upset because they were supposed to do something together tonight besides this but he forgot and agreed to be here. Steve watched him take a drag, self-spite running through his veins. 

The corners of Steve’s eyes pinched, his throat tightening as he spoke, “No, I’m sorry! This sucks, this whole thing has sucked. I stressed myself out over decorating for the party and was so excited to hang out! I didn’t mean to agree but I forgot! And mom and dad keep introducing me to people. I- I wanted to spend time with you! I didn’t want to be here!” Steve took a step forward before shaky inhale. “This is my fault, this shouldn’t have happened.”

The next few seconds were the two boys staring at one another, each waiting on the other to say something. Billy was at a loss. Steve had a million thoughts streaming through his mind, hoping that the blonde wouldn’t just turn away and leave. 

Eventually, Billy glanced at the door, peering through to check if the blinds were shut as a faint smile appeared. Billy’s lips pressed against Steve’s before he could protest, his hand meeting to cup the brunette’s jaw and brush over the apple of his cheek with his calloused thumb and cigarette in the other. Steve’s tears wetted his cheeks, he didn’t mind it all that much. The shock melted into comfort as Steve cherished the kiss, pouted when Billy slowly pulled away from him. The slight tinge of champagne lingering on the other’s lips, the heat of their bodies giving them a little warmth.

Billy craned his head - albeit Steve was taller - until their foreheads met. 

“Don’t apologize. I get it.” Billy whispered. Steve gave a small, dismissive ‘huff’.

“My boyfriend should come before a stupid party. I should have told them otherwise.” 

Billy shook his head. “The party’s nice. You beat yourself up too much over this kind of stuff, I forget things too. Remember the creek?” 

Steve giggled, lips twisting into a smile. “In July when you were supposed to meet me there and didn’t show up? And I stayed there all night?”

Billy frowned as he thought into it, the bitter call at one in the morning that turned into a week of not talking to one another. It ended nicely though - if ‘nice’ was drunk car sex in the middle of the woods. There wasn’t much of an apology there but hey, they’re still trying to work on things and figure out how exactly relationships work because they aren’t exactly a sixty-year-old couple with forty years of experience behind the boy’s backs.

“I still owe you for that. Sorry.” His eyes fell to the deck as he pulled his head away, bumping his cigarette against his finger and watching the ash fall.

After Steve noticed the shift he got quiet, frowned, and eyes followed Billy’s to the wooden boards below. “Don’t apologize,” Steve echoed with a light smile. Gently Steve grabbed Billy’s scarf and drew him in for a slower, deeper kiss. 

People forget things, that’s human nature. And sometimes they can be a bit dumb about it too. But this was going to be the boy’s first Christmas, granted it wasn’t exactly Christmas yet, but it was important to them both. Spending time with a significant other on a holiday was amazing even if they can’t shout it out to everyone they know. 

These moments always have a sort of energy to them. When the boys share a wordless amalgamation of self-deprecating thoughts after ‘messing something up’ and those little habits come out to bite to express those thoughts oh so clearly.  It’s a ball of weird energy that shines in self-hate that the two have been working to eliminate and hey, they’ve gotten pretty far! But, it’s still there. Smiling in the corner of the boy’s minds. Ready to strike at any moment. It’s just a lot smaller now. 

Because again, don’t have the forty years and that’s perfectly valid even if the two don’t seem to realize it.

Billy leaned into the sweet kiss before Steve drew back. Billy chuckled and wrapped his arms around the other as he tucked his face into Steve’s neck. Steve shook again, this time cuddling up to the other and ravishing in the heat and short breaths coming out of them both.

“I wanna go inside,” Steve mumbled, rubbing at the other’s back.

Billy laughed and slowly pulled away to look at Steve. “Too cold?” 

“I’m in a sweater and sweatpants,” Steve pulled on his scarf again and toyed with the frayed ends. The grin Billy responded with brimmed with bliss, his hand roaming up and held the other’s with a firm hold,

“I’ll meet you inside.”

Steve had ventured back into the party while Billy snuffed his cigarette into the deck, eventually, the two found one another next to the food Steve’s parents had catered instead of cooking this year. Only thing that wasn’t in foil baking trays was the Christmas cookies that Billy had been dying to try ever since Steve brought them up at the beginning of December. Drinks clattered in group cheers from the surrounding areas, the smooth music now bearable. He never expected that a party this foreign to him would turn out for the better. Never thought he would feel… like a part of it? The crystal flutes, richies, and overall appeal still don’t rock with him, but with Steve, he has someone there for him. And that’s all Billy could ever ask for.

Thankfully, he didn’t feel like he was going to projectile vomit champagne anymore… the nausea sort of faded after Steve kissed him outside. Billy turned to Steve, noting the rosy shade still dancing on the apples of his cheeks from outside.

“Your sweater isn’t that ugly,” Billy emphasized, chewing on an ornament-shaped cookie.

Steve shook his head with an amused sigh, sweeping the crumbs from his shirt. “This isn’t that kind of party, if it was I would’ve had you help me make one.”

“Are you sure? Because I don’t think Karen from Fiance got the memo.” Billy pointed into the crowd at the woman in question. Her sweater took the cake for one of the ugliest, tensile hangs from her torso, lights strung all over, buttons on the brink of falling off. “You think she beats her kids over the head with a bible?” Steve rolled his eyes. Billy smirked at the little glare he’d received. “You should have pulled out your grandmother’s cat vests.” 

Steve gagged, eyes wide and ridden with disgust. “Keep talking and you’re going to make me throw up. I never want to see those again.” Billy snorts and Steve shoves him with a laugh, “It’s not funny!”

“But you’re laughing!” Billy remarks and lightly bumps him back returning the bubbling laughter.

A woman seems to overhear their laughs and spins around with the biggest and brightest grin Billy’s ever seen. It kind of startled him. Doesn’t know who she is, doesn’t care to know until he recognizes the cat vest and how familiar those brown, round doe eyes are. She runs up to them, curls bouncing on her shoulders as she approaches with a drink in hand. Mrs. Harrington gasped, grabbing onto Steve’s sweater with eyes darting between both boys, “Is this Billy?”

Steve smirks and rolls his eyes again. “Hi, Mom. I’m back Mom.” She lightly wacks him in the arm. “Yes! This is Billy.”

Her eyes lit up, dazzled with happiness as she stuck her attention on the blonde as he snuck another cookie in his mouth. “Steve talks about you all the time!”

“What? No, I don’t!” Steve’s eyebrows knit together as he tried to defend himself but deep down knew there was no hope, especially after Billy gave him that smug but appreciative little look as his mom went on her story-telling rampage. 

Billy laughs, almost in disbelief, “Really?”

“He talks about all of his friends, really. But, oh! When it comes to you he goes on and on and on, he really thinks you’re something.” Billy watched as the tips of Steve’s ears tinted themselves red and smirked. An interesting conversation for later. “I’m so upset that I haven’t been able to meet you until now! You two are always out or asleep by the time I get home.”

Billy’s brows quirked in an expression of sarcasm. “Well, thank you for not waking me up at two in the morning to introduce yourself.”

Mrs. Harrington chuckled, shaking her head before putting her hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I’m going to go get another drink. Oh, and Billy!” She paused and made eye contact, “If you want to come over for Christmas, you’re more than welcome too! Just tell Steve so I know.”

Billy’s brows flew upwards, blush rising and Steve picking it up instantly. She waved goodbye before walking around them and going off on her journey into another room. The boys stared again, each waiting on the other to say something until the brunette spoke up.

"She likes you," Steve muttered, ears still red as ever.

"You talk about me to her? I think that's cute."

He huffed. Had to stop himself from leaning against the other to hide his face. "Mom likes knowing what friends are up to."

Billy loosely smiled, slowly bumping into Steve with his hip before getting a light bump back. “You look a lot like her.” Steve shook his head.

“Not as much as my dad,” Steve turned to see if he was there and frowned when he didn’t see the other but slowly faded into a smile. “I don’t know where he is, he would have loved to meet you.”

The boys got quiet again.

Billy cleared his throat, his head tilted down as if to duck away to hide his blush and the movement didn’t go unnoticed by Steve. “About coming over for Christmas-” 

“I want you to.” He softly tugged on his jacket to get his attention. Eventually, Billy made eye contact, grinned with a chuckle following behind. Christmas with Steve? His caring boyfriend, twenty million cookies, a few possible presents, and… some loving parents? 

Billy couldn’t be happier.

#stranger things #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #st #strangerthings #harringroveart #fic #art #harringroveholidayexchange #happy holidays #happy new year!

[yandere-sins]

okey so i had this idea of a yandere! fae/fey male who lives in the forrest Imagine reader and her friends go wandering about when they suddenly get lost. This fae shows up & offers to show them the way out under the condition that one of them stays with him (the reader lolol) then he takes her deeper into the forest would you write for fae? i'm not into anime 😅 but i'm obsessed with your other writing much love!

Hey! I’m super happy to read this, I am proud that you’d stay despite it being mostly anime/manga/game stuff here! Glad my writing could reach you despite everything, and I hope you enjoy your request just as much! ♥

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-«« 

Despite the urges of the creature in front of you, you couldn’t help but throw hesitant glances back over your shoulder. Strangely enough, though the small, glowing blue balls in the air shed light all around you, everything behind you laid shredded in darkness, not letting your eyesight through to the end of the forest you knew was there. They’d come back for you, your friends had promised. They’d find a way to break a deal with a fairy and get back to collect you from it.

All you had to do is be patient, and humor whatever wanted to keep you here so desperately.

“Hurry, hurry!” it echoed from all around you, and you silently cursed the fact you always listened to music through your earbuds. It was so hard to discern where the sound was coming from, and you blamed it all on loud beats that you fed to your ears. Sun had long set, otherwise, your group probably wouldn’t have taken a fae’s word to lead them out. No one could know what was going on in the forest, and understandably, everyone got scared with the wind howling and branches creaking all around you.Still, you didn’t even know yet what your big words about ‘everything being okay’ would bring over you. Instead, you just tracked forward, trying not to fall over roots and slippery moss while you went somewhere.

Even with the will-o-wisps around you, it was hard to see, your hands brushing against every tree and bush you could find to orientate yourself. Maybe you should have tried to turn on your heel and run, but you wanted to trust your friends more than anything, plus… the darkness behind you, scared you.

It was unlike what you saw when you laid in bed at night. Like a curtain, separating where you were walking from something else. It scared you not knowing what laid beyond or in it even. Maybe you’d get wrapped up, unable to flee from the darkness, or you’d hurt yourself trying to pass through it. And then your friends surely had no chance to recover anything from you.

Certainly, the path before you wasn’t as promising either, but at least it was lighted. Ever so often, a shining mushroom would pull your attention to it, even though you orientated yourself on the fairy lights. The trees were starting to grow taller and denser, roots harder to step over until you had to almost climb over them. You didn’t remember that the forest had those kinds of thickets listed in its description, but you kept going. Not necessarily because you wanted, but because the urges now became physical.

Vines lashing out, wind blowing into your back. You were constantly shoved forward, and to the sides, the lights dashing by you as laughter howled through the dark forest. Of course, you didn’t want to stay in the dark either, so you hurried to catch up - more or less successful.

Did it come as a surprise that your foot got stuck on a branch or vine eventually? No, but you did let out a squeal when you found yourself falling to the ground, arms trying to shield you from the fall. Still, your head made an ungently contact with the ground, pounding and swirling when you tried to lift it again. Touching your forehead, you flinched from the pain that hit as you felt up your torn skin. You were lucky it seemed to be only a small cut despite it hurting like shit, but standing up proved to be difficult as you noticed your blood knee that wouldn’t even let you get up.

“My, my, so fragile,” someone chuckled above you, your eyes darting upwards. How you didn’t notice the person standing in front of you was a mystery itself, but you didn’t have a chance to look at them, their hand laying over your eyes and forehead. You wondered if you had ever met someone with such big hands, but luckily, they pulled away before you could panic.

Blinking a few times, you reached up too, feeling how it didn’t hurt anymore, your head free of damage. Only then, you finally looked up to them, goosebumps tracking down your back almost instantly.

That… person seemed human enough. Its features close to yours. But still, your brain couldn’t register it as such. Was it the very puffy face? How it seemed to be ‘cute’ despite it being so enormous in stature? The shimmer dropping off it, paired with light that seemed to radiate from it? Or maybe, the huge, lucid wings on it’s back, swaying ever so often to keep it hovering over the ground, you couldn’t pinpoint what set you off.

“Don’t be shy now,” it laughed, a gust of wind supporting your back as it lifted you from the ground. With a surprised huff, you couldn’t help but look around you bewildered, mind trying to understand what just happened, as two large hands wrapped easily around your lower arm, pulling you forward firmly. Undeniably, your knee stung when you stretched it out, but you bit your lip as you got dragged through the forest, the scenery suddenly changing in front of your eyes.

Instead of darkness and the trees, you were suddenly surrounded by a wide clearing, flowers blooming all over it, and small giggles coming from many creatures around you. Even if you couldn’t see them, you knew they were there, but strangely enough, you didn’t feel threatened by them for once. Birds were flying over your head, chirping, deer grazing in the distant calmly.

The spirit led you to a tree trunk, sitting you down easily and settling next to you on the ground. Smiling up at you, it lifted its hands again, this time, over your knee, healing the bothering wound before showing you your immaculate skin, chuckling. This… wasn’t so bad, you thought. Strange yes, but not as threatening as you expected it to be.

“I’m so glad you are here now! There is so much we can do!” the fae snickered, and for the first time, you smiled back at it, getting giddy too. You had expected the end of the world, but really, it was nothing even close. Coming up to you, it seated itself next to you on the trunk, bodies touching - not uncomfortably so. Despite its strange stature compared to yours, its touches were gentle, calming, even as it pulled you towards its lap for you to lay down.

“Rest now, little Traveler, so we can have a lot of fun when you wake up,” it cooed, and you felt the sudden exhaustion of the day finally hitting in. Adrenaline had kept you up till now, but you still had wandered the whole day, and at least your body was at its ends. You didn’t feel worried about falling asleep there, knowing your friends would soon be coming, and until then, you weren’t in a bad place after all. Closing your eyes, you felt a sincere feeling of relief. Relief, this all wasn’t so bad, and it even was quite endurable, you thought.

Yes, nothing was bad, but neither was it real.

You just didn’t see the illusion disappear all around you, the world falling into darkness with only the creature to be a light spot in the dark. Though with the maniacal grin on its face as it watched it’s newest possession sleep peacefully, it seemed even darker than just the absence of light all around your vulnerable body.

#fairy #fairies #fae #yandere fairies #yandere!faries #yandere fae #yandere!fae #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #Yandere TW

[thecoleopterawithana]

Hi there! Just discovered your blog and I love it. I appreciate your in-depth analyses. But I have a question: I saw in a previous post that you think the line "I'm in love with a friend of mine," from "Dear Friend," is Paul saying he loves John. But, couldn't this line apply to Linda? It seems to me Paul could be telling John either, "Let it go, you know I'm in love with you," or "Let it go, you know I'm in love with Linda." What do you think? I'd love the line to be for John of course. Thanks!

Hey there, dear anon! I’m so happy you’re having fun with the blog and my sporadic thoughts!

Ah, yes! The famous conundrum: who is the friend Paul’s in love with?

I want to start off by making it clear that I have no doubt in my mind that Paul was in love with Linda.

In the same way, I don’t see it as too far fetched to think that Paul was in love with John. They both used it to describe their relation often enough.

The question, as always, is what exactly Paul means and what we mean when using the term. 

So the third point I’d like to make is that Paul being in love with John doesn’t necessarily entail him wanting to kiss him or be a typical romantic couple. It’s possible that this is simply the best term they found to describe the level of intensity and infatuation present in their relationship; how fascinated they were with each other, how interested in spending time together. Of course, we as a culture are very hung-up on the physical manifestations of these feelings, and often use this small constituent of very complex dynamics to categorize them into platonic, romantic, sexual, etc. But I think I’ve harped on enough about the illusion, limitation, and importance of language/concepts/categories in the previous post you referred to.

By all of this I just mean to say that maybe we shouldn’t decide who the line is about based on how plausible it would be for Paul to use “in love” in reference to John Lennon, as there are more instances him doing exactly so. 

So, assuming that Paul is just as likely to use “in love” to refer to his relationship with Linda as to his relationship with John, let’s see what he says about the song:

“Dear Friend” was written about John, yes. I don’t like grief and arguments, they always bug me. Life is too precious, although we often find ourselves guilty of doing it. So after John had slagged me off in public I had to think of a response, and it was either going to be to slag him off in public — and some instinct stopped me, which I’m really glad about — or do something else. So I worked on my attitude and wrote “Dear Friend”, saying, in effect, let’s lay the guns down, let’s hang up our boxing gloves.

— Paul McCartney, interviewed for Club Sandwich (1994).

Dear Friend was to do with John, a bit of longing about John. Let’s have a glass of wine and forget about it. A making up song.

— Paul McCartney, interviewed by Paul Du Noyer for Mojo (July 2001).

[Dear Friend] was written for John, to John. It was like a letter. With the business pressures of the Beatles breaking up it’s like a marriage. One minute you’re in love, the next minute you hate each other’s guts. It’s a pity, because it’s very difficult to cut through all that. So you do what we all seemed to do, which was write it in songs. I wrote “Dear Friend” as a kind of peace gesture.

— Paul McCartney, in Bill Harry's The Paul McCartney Encyclopedia (2002).

And then with ‘Dear Friend’, that’s sort of me talking to John after we’d had all the sort of disputes about The Beatles break up. I find it very emotional when I listen to it now. I have to sort of choke it back. I’m not going to cry in front of all you lot though! […] But, for me, it is a bit like that. I remember when I heard the song recently, listening to the roughs [remastering works-in-progress] in the car. And I thought, ‘Oh God’. That lyric: ‘Really truly, young and newly wed’. Listening to that was like, ‘Oh my God, it’s true!’ I’m trying to say to John, ‘Look, you know, it’s all cool. Have a glass of wine. Let’s be cool.’ And luckily we did get it back together, which was like a great source of joy because it would have been terrible if he’d been killed as things were at that point and I’d never got to straighten it out with him. This was me reaching out. So, I think it’s very powerful in some very simple way. But it was certainly heartfelt.”

— Paul McCartney, You Gave Me The Answer - ‘Wild Life’ Special (29 October 2018).

So, starting by stating the obvious, Paul has made it clear that the ‘dear friend’ the song is addressed to is John. Now, is the ‘friend of mine’ a different subject or the same? 

Conveniently, because they continue to mirror each other, both Paul and John are ‘really truly, young and newly wed.’ So the whole phrasing of the song is exactly the sort of “very non-specific way to say it” that Paul prefers.

Though, in 2018, Paul comments precisely on this line: “I find it very emotional when I listen to it now. [...] And I thought, ‘Oh God’. That lyric: ‘Really truly, young and newly wed’. Listening to that was like, ‘Oh my God, it’s true!’”

It’s worth to consider the context of the whole verse, as that specific lyric is the end of a sentence: ‘Dear friend, throw the wine, I'm in love with a friend of mine, really truly, young and newly wed.’

Paul tells us that this phrase in particular gets him choked up, but also almost awed in realization. I personally don’t feel like this kind of surprised amazement would be elicited by acknowledging that it’s him and Linda that were ‘in love’ and ‘really truly, young and newly wed’, unless out of a sense of nostalgia. 

But the thing is, Paul doesn’t bring up Linda or Yoko or their respective marriages even once while discussing the song. If the point he’s trying to make is, ‘Look, I’m in love with Linda, you’re with Yoko, why are we fighting?’, why would he never bring them up while discussing the song? Or state something to the effect of “We are individuals— all different. John married Yoko, I married Linda. We didn't marry the same girl.” (Which he did say in the autumn of 1969, to Life magazine.)

In actuality, he only mentions his metaphorical matrimony to John, and how “one minute you’re in love, the next minute you hate each other’s guts.” So, when discussing a song written to, for and about his ‘dear friend’ John, in which he declares he’s ‘in love with a friend’ of his, Paul explains how it’s like they’d been “in love” with each other. 

I think we might be making this needlessly complicated by bringing in his love for Linda, and so would like to invoque the law of parsimony.

But then, what does he mean?

Paul makes it abundantly clear that the ultimate goal of this ‘letter’ is an attempt at reconciliation, “a kind of peace gesture”, “let’s be cool”, “let’s lay the guns down, let’s hang up our boxing gloves”. It’s a “making up song.” 

It pays to point out that while Dear Friend was first recorded at the beginning of the Wild Life sessions, on 24 July 1971, the demo tapes date back to a year prior, estimated to have been made at home in 1970. So it’s unlikely it was a response to How Do You Sleep?, recorded on 26 May 1971, and released on 9 September 1971. So Paul seems to be answering some other slagging off in public that John did.

But let’s look at the song:

Dear friend, what's the time?  Is this really the borderline?  Does it really mean so much to you? 

Are you afraid, or is it true?

Dear friend, throw the wine  I'm in love with a friend of mine  Really truly, young and newly wed 

Are you a fool, or is it true?

Are you afraid, or is it true?

The first line seems to be pretty self-explanatory, with the same sentiment Paul expressed in 1994, that “life is too precious”; after all, ‘Life is very short, and there's no time for fussing and fighting, my friend.’

In the second line, the question could mean, ‘Is this really where we’re at? Is this where we ended up?’ Or he could be using ‘borderline’ to mean a division, in the sense that he asks ‘Is this really where the line is drawn?’, which could help explain the end of the verse and his bafflement at how hurt John is by having that line crossed.

Now, what might be the action that meant so much to John? What might be Paul pinpointing as the source of John’s hurt? The sources could be multiple. John himself said no one hurt him as much as Paul did, and he was quick to point out Paul’s insensitivity. Paul would later continue to ponder this issue:

I always felt guilty. Always felt guilty. But looking back on it, I keep thinking, okay, let’s try and analyse this. Now John was hurt; what was he hurt by? What was the single biggest thing that we can find in all our research that hurt John? And the biggest thing that I can find is that I told the world that the Beatles were finished. And I don’t think that’s so hurtful. [...] I look at it now and really kind of shudder. At the time it was me trying to answer some questions that were being asked and I decided to not fudge that question. [Note: Where John’s hurt is concerned, Paul may or may not be referring specifically to his answering “Do you foresee a time when Lennon-McCartney becomes an active songwriting partnership again?” with a definitive “No.”] And I say, looking back on it, I don’t think… I mean, if that’s the most hurtful thing I did, I haven’t really heard much else beyond that.

— Paul McCartney, interviewed by Chris Salewicz for Musician (October 1986).

Of course, there’s nothing to say that Paul would be aware of all of this back in 1970. So we may never know what hurt Paul was referring to, if any. Remember this is just my present personal interpretation; which can be completely incorrect. 

Now comes the part which I consider the most mysterious in the entire song: ‘Are you afraid, or is it true?’ and the variation, ‘Are you a fool, or is it true?’ The exact meaning for these inquires often eludes me. What is John afraid of and what is the alternative state that Paul wonders if it’s true?

One interpretation I’ve seen is made in the context of Dear Friend being an answer to How Do You Sleep? Here, the question ‘is it true?’ amounts to ‘did you really mean all those things you said, or were you just hurt?’ This seems a reasonable take and it works as a response to any attacks by John, not just necessarily How Do You Sleep? 

Of course, Paul uses the word ‘afraid’. And although I can see a post-divorce John Lennon slagging of his ex out of hurt, I don’t understand how he’d do it out of fear. But maybe there was something to lose still.

Personally, clarity arrived when I was exposed to the song A Love For You. Part of the RAM demo tapes made between May and August 1970, this track recorded in 26 October 1970 would only be heard by the public in 2003, in the soundtrack for the movie “The In-Laws”. 

The piece shares many motifs with other McCartney songs, as I’ve tried to explore before. But, to our discussion, I think the most relevant part of this contemporary of Dear Friend is the very last line of the second verse: 

Is it true, are you coming through, or were you just leaving?

Here we have it; around the same time, precisely the same question: ‘Is it true?’

Though in the case of Dear Friend, it’s as if what he questions as “true” is reversed, asking instead: ‘Is it true you were just leaving? Or are you afraid of coming through? Or are you a fool for not seeing that I really am, I really can, I really do, I really have a love for you?’

This interpretation seems to match my current hypothesis that the breakup was but a disastrous series of miscommunications, which both created and were created by fear, distrust and insecurity in the other’s love. 

If this is the case, the second verse seems to also make more sense. The first line is explained by Paul in 2001: “Let’s have a glass of wine and forget about it.” Assuming that the second line (the reason for this whole post) is referring to John, then it represents a clarification of Paul’s feelings. The verse culminates with a question that seems to reinforce the whole message: ‘Are you a fool for not seeing I’m in love with you, or is it true that you actually meant to leave and that you don’t feel the same anymore?’

I have to reinforce that, even with all of this, when Paul says ‘I’m in love with you’ to John, I don’t think it necessarily means ‘I’ll leave Linda, take me back!’ From my perspective, the way Paul’s in love with Linda doesn’t really infringe on the way he’s in love with John. He probably had totally different needs and expectations from the two relationships, which he doesn’t see as mutually exclusive.

So, in conclusion, for me Dear Friend is essentially Paul writing a letter to John saying, ‘Come on, are we really wasting time with this fighting nonsense? Let’s make up! I still feel the way I felt. Do you?’ 

#asks me why #Paul McCartney #John Lennon #the beatles #Dear Friend #A Love For You #'in love' #Don't Let Me Down | Trust Issues #Did I ever open up my heart and let you look inside? #But I could never speak my mind #that's the kind of insensitivity he would have #it's like a marriage #the person i actually picked as my partner #macca #johnny #linda #yoko ono #my stuff #meta #quote

[yuvon-writes-letters]

Hey guys :)

Maybe I'm going chronological for one time, so I can sort my thoughts easier.

Yeah, Goldie's much mire active than I would've thought, too. But they did all those things to keep me alive and kind of save, since we still don't know who they are exactly working against. (I mean, we don't know who Goldie exactly is either, but you get my point)

Honestly, I am pretty sure the TSB timeline is continuing, at least if my theory that Goldie just set me back in an alternate timeline is true. In this case I feel sorry for TSB, though..Extremely sorry. He still was 'my' Jake back then, even though he acted weird in the end (maybe was manipulated by entities). I mean, if what he wrote was true he went with authorities. And in the end..this could've been his downfall.

And yeah, maybe I'm not exactly safe, but I just have to go back. If I go, and if I lose my job, I have some things to sort out. And Jake luckily agreed with me that clearing up my desk isn't the worst thing I can do before leaving. We're still thinking about a location, which I could luckily deside myself. Max agreed on that. Even though he still has some doubts. (I mean, of course...His cousin opened the door with bruises all over her face.) He did promise to not ask any questions until I feel ready, though. That gives myself and Jake some time to figure that out.

And also, Jake is right! We have three Jakes and three smart people. YUVON. And of course Goldie, like you said Yu :) And some information about the previous timeline. (And that was it with being chronological)

So yeah, like I said, Max and I'll go. And I also think we can be pretty certain now that the message came from Goldie not the MWAF (which is relieving). I saw the messages and they didn't make Jake the bad guy. I honestly just don't think I can quote them yet. (They're too good, but I probably start daydreaming if I do) But they talk about Jake being an important part of my life and my heart and Max protecting me when he cannot. My dear cousin jumped to conclusions when he saw my bruised face. About Max' phone...I'll probably throw it in a river or something if he brings it with him. I told him not to, also because of Jake (he's not only worried about the MWAF apparently...He didn't exactly say it out loud, but I think it's pretty obvious) but he loves this device.

And I emphasize with you about the being kidnapped thing, you'll manage it, I know it :) And if I need to jump dimensions and box some sense into your Crow-Crew xD

No but for real, you can do that. I know it :)

Jake, find a good point in time to talk to her. But do it :)

Otherwise, I still think the 'underlying desire' theory is a possibility! But, like always in the moment, we could be wrong.

As for my stasis, I really do not wish to talk to more people who think I've been kidnapped. And I am a bit scared that could somehow lead to either them or me being in more danger again. But for now we have to wait.

I for now will pack some important things and paper & pens xD I don't want to leave y'all behind :P

Liska🐾🔥

[A screenshot is glued to the back of the letter and the quick sentence "Jake wants to talk to Jake" is written above]

Hello Jake, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am not quite sure in which way Liska will handle giving you my message, but she promised me to not read it for now.

I don't know whether she told you before or not, but as far as I am concerned she realised I am not only worried about the MWAF chasing her.

With me breaking out of this stasis I am sure that my followers aren't that far behind. And I know you can't do anything from where you are, but cross checking way to protect her doesn't seem to bad to me. Especially since we are similar but still fairly different from each other. At least it seems like that from what I have read.

For my part, I recently improved and updated Nym-OS which allows me access to Liskas whereabouts. If Yuvon should read this, she knows and agrees to it.

Still I am yet stuck on one little detail: I am trying to help Nym-OS in counterattacking. So, even though I am sure you already knoe this yourself, Nym-OS gets the ability to access location of the people attacking Liskas phone. I am almost done with that, so we are able to see a bit easier if and where people are that could be a danger.

Do you have any other ideas for ways I could help? Or even improve what I am doing momentarily. I wouldn't normally ask this since I know and trust my skills, but I think that this is fairly different from a 'normal situation'.

~ Jake

Lis,

Um. I don't know if you've seen the newest person to send in a letter, but we now have an issue.

Jessy, if you're reading this, I was sort of trying to avoid talking about this right away but I'm sort of trapped in a weird place, and Jake's here too because I'm a dumbass. I did not, so you know, let him read your letter or my reply. I figured you wouldn't want that. Sorry for dancing around the issue earlier :/ But at least you can get a good sample of the complete insanity we go through on the regular now!

Yeah... you're getting thrown into the deep end right now, aren't you. Sorry. There's no way to ease into this. You should probably either stop reading these entirely or start reading the letters from the beginning, so this will all at least make some sense. The first letter should start with the words "To whoever reads this," just so you know you get the right one.

Back to you, Lis. Yeah, I feel pretty bad for TSB Jake too. I honestly can't imagine being in his position right now.

Alright. So, you can choose the place. Great! There's way less chance of you being caught that way...

Tragedies just seem to be happening to all us Duskwood detectives, recently, don't they? Rai is chronically overworked and barely has time to sleep, I'm stuck in this hellhole and I've been forgotten by most everyone, you were shot, and poor Matt died and... well.

I never knew him, but I feel really bad for him :(

You could give Max half the truth. Tell him you have a stalker, and he's starting to get physical. Jake has been trying to help you get away from the asshole. It's not even a lie, just... not the full truth. Because. You know. The whole truth is completely fucking insane.

Writing to Jessy just put into perspective how insane everything is, I think. Gimme a sec.

Oh, fuck. My Jessy just texted me. Great timing.

Jeez that whole thing with me leaving myself out was just a joke XD If I knew you and Jake would take it so seriously, I'd never have said anything. I'll steer clear from now on.

Yeah, okay, definitely Goldie. That makes way more sense. I don't think you have to be quite so drastic as destroying the phone. Just get him to leave it at home for the trip.

Ahaha, thanks. I don't think that's necessary, though. Actually, seeing future!Jessy's perspective has caused a bit of a paradigm shift. I think I might need to reconsider what all to tell and not to tell the Crow Crew. I just sort of default to keeping things secret, now, but you've seen how well that worked for me with you and Rai, and with Jake.

Again, you probably should wait for them to contact you first, but you WILL need to talk to them when that happens. What you say to them and what you don't is up to you.

Pack a couple different pens XD We're all a bit long-winded.

That's all from me :)

(The handwriting changes to Jake's.) Hallo, Lis.

Yuvon refuses to tell me what precisely she means about Jessica. Was she somehow contacted by an alternate version of Jessica? If so, how?

I am glad it was Goldie who contacted Max. Yuvon's suggestion for an excuse seems a good one, as there are far less things to remember that way. You simply need to oversimplify everything.

I do not, unfortunately, entirely believe that Yuvon was joking when she made that comment, based on previous comments and her ongoing guilt. I can't understand sometimes why she feels the need to lie so much. It is difficult for me to read people, much less her.

I will speak to her eventually. Early tomorrow, perhaps, if nothing else rears its head. Yuvon looks tired, and I am also admittedly not at my peak. I sincerely hope she does not wake up as early as she does every single day. It may get somewhat taxing, what with the lack of coffee here.

I think that is all from me to you, Lis. If you would kindly find a way to send the next section to my counterpart without looking at it, it would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you :)

—Jake and Yuvon

Jake,

It is a pleasure to meet you as well, despite the unusual circumstances.

That our pursuers may be freed from the stasis is a logical conclusion. Seeing as the last known location I had on them in my universe was approximately five hundred miles from Duskwood, they will likely be some of the first to free themselves from the stasis. I do not believe I need to warn you that time is of the essence.

It seems as if I am a small distance ahead of you in the development of countermeasures, perhaps because I have had more linear time to develop them. If you are where I think you are at in the development, you likely have or will soon hit a bug you cannot pin down that makes the pinpointing mechanism simply refuse to work at all. Presuming your and my version of NYM-0S are similar enough, the issue should lie in the public bool set in line 132 of the third part of the targeting script, the script that decides what constitutes a target; you have it defaulted to "false" where it should default to "true".

As for additional countermeasures: I was attempting to work on a rudimentary automated system of pattern detection when I was brought here. Essentially, its function would be such that it would be able to triangulate using the locator features already installed to find a rough estimate of where their headquarters might be. However, I have not found any way thus far to eliminate outliers, and as such the feature is currently next to useless. I am no longer able to work on the code, but perhaps you will have more luck than I did.

That is all I can think of for the moment on that subject. However, I have an odd theory on what may be part of the reason we vary so. If you have a moment to spare, please answer me this:

When I was very young, back when Mother was still around, she took me to a doctor for odd behaviors. This included not looking people in the eyes, but there was a list. I was given a diagnosis; if you had the same experience, you should likely know which one.

Did you have this experience? If so, please prove it by stating what the diagnosis was.

Do not worry if you do not know what I am talking about; I would rather you did not guess. Simply state that you don't know. It will confirm my theory.

Good luck with your pursuers.

—Jake

(The letter tucks itself in the paper clip with the others.)

#duskwood letter game #yuvon writes letters #duskwood #duskwood game #duskwood everbyte #duskwood jake #lis #this isn't precisely a puzzle #it's a genuine question on jake's end #you aren't expected to answer unless your jake is the same

[capricornus-rex]

Hey hi!! I just wanna say first that I love your writing and you just capture Cal so well and your talent oml we stan 🙌 would you take a prompt of Cal being very confused as to why his girlfriend keeps crying every five seconds because he has no idea at first what's even happening and like it takes him a minute to put it together (it can be that time of the month or it can be pregnancy hormones, whatever's easiest, I'm sorry hormones made ya girl emotional and moody) pls & thanks!🙇

Hi Anon! First of all, thank you so much!! 🥺💞 Second, I AM SO SORRY that this took a while!! I know I shouldn’t be overusing the excuse that I’m swamped with requests and my fics tend to be more than just oneshots, but that’s the predicament right now. I hope you understand 😭😔 Anyways, I’m glad you still took the time to write to me ;;w;; I just feel reaallly bad that I made you wait long. Still, I hope you enjoy the fic, anon and thank you too!

Chapter 4: Untimely Blessing | Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: After a long time of running and fighting, you and Cal decided to finally settle down after all these years to raise a family. However, it was never a life of peace whilst the shadow of the Empire looms over your heads.

Other prompt/s in play: Anon 1′s prompt, Anon 2‘s baby prompt & Own fic idea

Also posted in AO3

Tags: Scruffy! Cal Kestis, Daddy! Cal Kestis, Adult! Cal Kestis, Jedi Family, Jedi Offspring, Force-Sensitive Offspring, Settling Down, Rebel Alliance

Chapters: 1 – 2 | Previous: Part 3 | Next: Part 5 | Masterlist

4 of ?

The weather was nice in Cerinda. Cal had been practicing with a self-made obstacle course in the forest, west of the lake where your wedding was held; meanwhile, you decided to take a breather by your wedding venue. You almost hated to admit that you couldn’t walk for perhaps a day and a half after that little private time you had in the Mantis with your husband.

About three weeks have already passed after that.

And for those three weeks, there was this feeling swirling in the pit of your stomach. Cal had noticed you craving for a lot of sweets—especially Jogan berries and space waffles—and you yourself felt sluggish, so you decided to sit by the sidelines of the training course.

While he had physical training, you meditated by the lake’s shore where it was tranquil. The peace helped you in getting into focus.

Your skin suddenly crawled in a good way, even though you were taken aback, you kept your eyes closed trying to keep yourself concentrated; but you ended up reminiscing how Cal’s lips trailed along your body, how his hands wandered and sank into your flesh. The feeling of his lips suckling at the exact same spots where he left his love bites jolted your nerves—your hand rubbed across your neck, chest, and shoulder and then crawled downward to your abdomen. You chuckled to yourself as the memories replayed in your head, struggling to remain focused.

“BD-1, over here!” Cal’s distant voice rang among the trees, but that didn’t distract you enough.

Suddenly, something was bubbling in your stomach and you could feel it rising to your throat each second. Your eyelids shot up and you fumbled onto fours, crawling away to anywhere until your entire body gave way, and allowed yourself to retch behind a tree trunk.

You coughed and spat out the bile, you clumsily crawled towards the edge of the lake, scooping a handful of water to your mouth to wash off the sour acidity that lingered in your cheeks. You did this for a couple of times until the taste was truly gone.

“Oh my…” you gasped, crawling away from the spot where you had your little accident and lay flat on the grass.

Your hand hesitated to crawl downward, to your lower abdomen just below your navel; your heart pounded with mixed emotions—you can’t pinpoint if you’re excited, nervous, or completely taken by surprise. But you’re primarily the latter, you just needed a second emotion to balance it out.

“Could it be…?” you mumbled.

You took a deep breath before your hand slithered below your navel, calming your heart of the eagerness—just to avoid breaking it if it wasn’t the case—and when your whole palm padded against your lower abdomen…

You felt it.

A tiny kick.

A little pulse.

Your heart leapt. You gasped—supposedly a laugh, but you were overtaken by emotion—your fingers rubbed across your tummy again.

There it is again!

“Aww…” you fawned, on the verge of happy tears.

Cal came out of the trees’ trail, spotting you lying down on the grass with your hand on your stomach. He bobbed his head to the side, quizzically looking at you wiping away a tear while standing at a distance.

“[y/n]?” he called to you, kneeling by your side on the grass.

Your attention shifted to his direction. He sat there next to you with a slightly confused look—mixed with a hint of concern for you.

You quickly propped yourself on your elbows, and then shifted to your knees. His nervous eyes followed your position.

“Are you alright?”

“Cal…” you started. Unable to say the words—even though they’re already at the tip of your tongue—you take both of his hands and reeled them to your stomach.

Your husband’s eyes widened. His smile stretched from ear-to-ear when he felt the ripple of life coming from within you. His heart bounced in perhaps the fastest beat it has ever beaten in years.

“Cal, I’m pregnant!” you announced.

BD-1 trilled a long note in reaction, the little droid is just as surprised as his owner is!

The redhead stammered and blinked away several times, struggling to gather all the words he needed to express; when he cradled your face in his hands, you could feel just from his touch that he was bursting with sheer, indescribable happiness. He exhaled sharply, his breath warm as he touched foreheads with you.

“This… This is wonderful!” he gasped. He couldn’t speak further, acting purely on impulse, he closed in to kiss you—he pressed his lips long and hard to yours. “We’re having a baby!”

The forest echoed with your laughter. Cal snatched you into his arms and held you for so long as he buried his face into your neck, muffling his continuous laughing, and slowly rocked you back and forth.

Cal remained with you by the lake for the rest of the afternoon, he couldn’t take his hands off of your stomach; he wanted to keep feeling for the faint pulse of the conceived child in your womb. He started to daydream about the games he and the baby would play, how they would turn out to be—if they’ll have your eyes or his, if they’ll take after their mischievous father or their headstrong mother, whatever the case, he has already loved them the moment he felt the smallest beat.

—–

It was your third month since the conception of your child. The first few weeks were difficult and overwhelming, considering that this is your very first pregnancy. Luckily, you had help with Merrin and Cere. Still, it felt like your energy was slowly ebbing way as the weeks went by.

To avoid getting rusty with your combat skills, you continued to practice your swings, spins, and flourishes without using getting to the more acrobatic moves that required jumps and wide strides. Cal also kept a close eye on you when it comes to practicing, seeing that you’re still eager for sparring.

“I am so against this!” he exclaimed.

“Come on, the training droids aren’t really doing much help!” you whined.

He wagged his finger at you as if scolding a child, “Only one round, okay? Whoever wins, that’s that.”

“Deal!”

Even if you were still itching for action, you moved with the greatest caution and care—both for yourself and your baby—you improvised the moves that were usually lively, you replaced the low ducks and slides with spinning, dance-link evasions that still eluded an attack in the same grace.

However, the power and strength of your sword arm didn’t seem to dull over time. You fenced with your husband—the contrast in the lightsaber techniques have become more obvious now, and he was being careful himself, he knew that you didn’t want to take it easy and so he came at a compromise.

“Aha!” he exerted as he had you at swordpoint.

“Okay, you got me. Deal’s a deal,”

“That’s my girl,” he cooed.

“Don’t be so smug, love. I want another try next week,”

When you got back to the Mantis, you staggered on your footing for a few seconds. It was a good thing Cal caught you before you slammed your back against the ship’s wall.

“How are you feeling, [y/n]?” asked Cere.

“A little lightheaded, more often than I probably should,”

“Usually, that becomes quite the norm, especially when a mother’s at her third month,” Merrin added.

“Is that so…?”

A few seconds later, the lightheadedness was gone and you settled yourself on the couch next to Merrin. Like the entire crew, everyone was so delighted to hear the news. First the engagement, then wedding, and now a baby!

But the most excited one is Merrin; if not Cal, the Nightsister was constantly by your side. She was practically your sister ever since. She offered to mix up potions that would help in easing your pregnancy without harming both you and the child; she was also the one who gave the most advice.

“My mother herself was a midwife, besides being an acolyte. She taught me everything, even if I never saw myself being in the same position as her,” the Nightsister disclosed.

Nevertheless, she was still delighted for your bundle of joy. The two of you traded secret wishes and future daydreams revolving around the child.

One evening, in the middle of the night where everyone had gone to sleep, you jumped out of bed, rushing towards the bathroom to vomit… again. For the second time this day. Earlier, Merrin had concocted a potion that was said to help ease the tensing of the belly, so the cramping would lessen for a few hours. For a while, that potion seemed to have worked—but it didn’t stop you from running to the bathroom just to retch it out again.

Cal was awakened by the abrupt shuffling of the bed, he heard the faint pitter-patter of your bare footsteps leave the room and followed you to the bathroom.

“No, not again…!” he heard your hushed voice as you rushed out of the room.

The sound of your retching was muffled behind the door. Bile exited your stomach, leaving a stinging feeling in your core. You ended up crying in exchange of not straining yourself and hurting your baby in the process. You struggled to cough out what’s left, but only clear saliva spat out of your mouth.

Your kneecaps suddenly softened, your grip around the sink’s rim was your remaining support to keep yourself from falling to the ground. Suddenly, you felt an arm coil around your waist and a hand rubbing across your back.

“Hey,” your husband cooed. “Are you okay?”

You sniffled, washing away the dribble on your nose, but you didn’t answer.

“Are you hurting?” he continued.

“I keep feeling sick,” you sobbed, rubbing the bridge of your nose as you try to fight back the tears. “Merrin’s potion works, but only for the cramps.”

Anxiety was also a constant in your visits to the bathroom during the wee hours. You hated yourself for stressing out on bad dreams, you always had to bite your knuckles when breaking down to muffle out the cries behind the bathroom door.

Swallowing the lump in your throat did little in repressing your tears, some droplets escaped your eyes, Cal spotted them instantly and wiped them away with his thumb.

“It’s okay, I’ll stay with you until you feel like sleeping,” he consoled as he guided you out of the bathroom when you were ready.

“You don’t have to do this, you need to go back to sleep,” you gently scolded.

“You’re my wife,” he said firmly, a steely yet gentle look in his eyes glinted. “I’ll be here for you. Anything you need, okay?”

You hoisted and folded your legs, leaning against Cal’s shoulder as you try to calm yourself down. He feels for your stomach again, speaking to his unborn child through his mind.

Don’t give Mommy a hard time, sweetheart. He prayed as his lips nuzzled your temple while stroking your hair.

Two more months have passed. It’s the fifth month now, your belly had grown significantly. The morning sicknesses have seemed to lessen as time went on, however, in exchange it has become a little bit more difficult to move. The weight that you carried along with you has become more apparent; but that didn’t matter to you, all you could think about is the baby and you looked forward to its kicking. You and Cal sat together in the couch by the holotable, he now uses both hands to hold your stomach and found that they could no longer contain your belly.

“Oh, there’s a little kick,” he giggled.

You bobbed your head to the side, leaning against your own arm as you stare at Cal. You didn’t even realize that he must have shaved his stubble for just a little bit. Your knuckles stroked his beard and then your skin suddenly felt the smoothness of his freckled cheeks; his lips followed to where your palm is and nuzzled in for a kiss. When turned to you, his smile dissolved when he spotted a tear that you yourself didn’t even notice.

“Something the matter?”

“I’m a little scared, a little nervous. I mean… I’m so close now, Cal. I don’t even know if I—”

“Hey, you’re gonna be great,” he cuts in. He gingerly caressed your nape, fingernails raking the bottom of your hair, “I promise.”

He leaned closer to plant a long and tender kiss on your forehead. He kept his hands on your tummy, feeling for his baby, and he started guessing.

“It’s definitely a boy,” he beamed. “A kick that hard? Definitely.”

“Oh-ho, so someone’s gonna take your title of being the ‘One Who Kicks Ass’ in the Mantis?” you played along.

“Aww, he’s gonna have to get through me to steal my crown!”

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