#cold shrink tube

[upmheatshrink]

Wraparound heat shrink repair sleeve and cold shrink tubing

#cold shrink tube #wraparound tube #shrink tube #repair sleeve #cable protection #shrink sleeve

[becauseplot]

It's over. It's done. It's over.

Forever is sobbing when Phil, Cellbit, and Bad walk back into to the room.

It's a desperate tangle of English and Portuguese that's spilling from his lips, nigh unintelligible. As the three of them make their way around the cell, Phil starts to desipher the words: "--faça parar! Faça parar! Please stop, please stop, PLEASE! Faça parar, por favor! Por favor...!"

Forever is curled up in the corner of his cell, face hidden in his hands, crying out for anyone, anyone to help him.

Phil swallows. Breathes.

He takes a step back and lets Cellbit step forward, taking up the view of the window. Cellbit starts to speak in Portuguese to Forever as Forever continues to wail, shrinking away from Cellbit and shaking something fierce. Cellbit asks Bad to remove the glass pane and Bad does so in a heartbeat.

"Olha para mim," Cellbit says with a voice that's firm and raw but not unkind. He takes a deep breath, feline tail swishing about his ankles, and holds a bar of the cell for support as he leans in closer. "Olha para mim, Forever. Abre os olhos. Por favor."

A few seconds pass. Forever's sobs wither out into wheezing breaths, and his trembling hands slide down his face. Bloodshot eyes peer up at Cellbit. Terrified. Confused.

And Cellbit begins to talk. Phil barely understands a word of it, but Cellbit is calm and clear in his speech. He holds up the syringe for Forever to see, pointing to its contents, and he talks Forever down when he starts begging again. Bad, meanwhile, kneels down behind Forever. He doesn't say anything, but he places a feather-light hand on Forever's back through the bars, oh so gentle and wary of his claws.

And Phil? Phil stands off to the side. He gives the two of them plenty of room, refusing to crowd Forever and send him into another fit of panic; but his shield is still strapped to his arm, and his axe still hangs in his hand at his side.

He won't hurt Forever. God, no, he won't hurt Forever, but Phil---Phil needs something to hold onto right now.

At last, Cellbit reaches through the large gap in the bars, holding out the syringe in an open hand. Forever sits and stares at it, throat bobbing in half-aborted sounds of doubt. He doesn't move to take it.

Phil shifts his wings. They'll hold him down and administer the antidote themselves if they have to, but no one here wants to force it on him. He's been through enough.

Thankfully, Forever finally uncurls himself from his corner just long enough to take the syringe. His fingers tremble around it so badly that Phil is afraid he'll drop it and the tube will shatter on the floor, spilling the precious medication, but he doesn't. He takes syringe and jabs it through the pearl-white fabric of his sleeve and into the meat of his arm and sinks the plunger.

Silence.

And then Forever howls. The sound rips out of him, head tipped back and tears spilling over his cheeks and jaw open wide, wide like someone reached down into his esophagus and tore his insides up and out through his mouth.

Cellbit squeezes his eyes shut and ducks away, ears pinned back. Bad knocks his forehead against the cold metal bars and makes a quiet, pained noise. Phil closes his eyes and puts a hand over his mouth and curls his wings around himself and leans on his axe because oh god, he feels like he's going to be sick.

The cry tapers off. Phil hears Cellbit hurry away and start talking to Pac on the other side of the room. Bad mutters something about the inventory scanners. Phil opens his eyes and sees Forever slumped in the corner of his cell, eyes glassy and chest rattling with every inhale. His hand lay at his side, the syringe held limply between his twitching fingers.

Phil approaches the cell and braces a hand on one of the bars. "Forever," he says. Forever doesn't so much as twitch. "Forever, can you hear me?"

Forever's gaze drags itself from the middle distance over to Phil. He blinks. His eyes flutter shut, and he sags back against the bars completely, a heap of limbs.

Phil stands there. Rubs a hand over his mouth. In the distance, there is the sound of soft, gentle Portuguese undercut by anxious mutterings. The click-clack of an inventory scanner being disarmed echoes off the walls. There's an outcry, raw and guttural. Forever's cell is dismantled with a thunk of a universal block breaker. Weeping reaches Phil's ears, muffled by an embrace, soothed by hushed reassurances.

And Forever lies sprawled out on the floor, eyes closed. Unmoving. Phil, for that matter, can't bring himself to move either. He stands, and he stares, and he breathes, and he watches Forever breathing.

"Is he okay?"

Phil jolts. He looks away from Forever to look up at Cellbit. The man's eyes are red, his mouth drawn tight.

Phil shrugs. It's barely more than a shift of his shoulders; it's all he can manage. "I don't know. I think he passed out."

Cellbit nods. "Okay. Okay." He exhales and drags his hands down his face with a shudder. "Jesus Christ, man..."

Yeah. Yeah, that just about sums it up.

#oh. ough. ouuhgg. god. fuck. ow. my heart. #i am emotionally processing yesterday's stream so i had to write something #here have a semi-accurate retelling of the final bit of the confrontation from phil's point of view #my writing #doubt i'll put this on ao3 but maybe #qsmp philza #qsmp cellbit #qsmp forever #insaneduo #insane duo #sugarduo #sugar duo

[glaivenoct]

sweeter dreams (in your arms)

Pairing: Vashwood Rating: T Words: 6,823 Tags: Nightmares, Angst & Hurt/Comfort, Nicholas D. Wolfwood is Bad at Feelings (and Needs a Hug)

Summary: The nightmares and recollections of a past that never feels distant enough don’t plague him every night. It’s like a game of roulette at times. Never a specific pattern or telling when luck will run out. There’s those swaths of luck where Wolfwood can go days or weeks at a time without any sleep disturbances, but lately he’s had a consistently unlucky draw. He doesn’t bother pondering how or why. He simply endures until they stop.

He wonders how many times Vash overheard it, though. The gasping fits as he would wake up in a cold sweat on the verge of screaming.

Wolfwood is haunted by the cold terror of his past. Lucky for him, Vash is good at grounding him in the much warmer present.

--

The fire of the campsite is, thankfully, warm enough to stave off the cold of the desert tonight. Wolfwood sits in front of it atop one of the spare blankets, soaking in said warmth as he watches the steady dance of the campfire. He stretches one leg out, bending the other at the knee to serve as an armrest while he absently taps at the butt of a lit cigarette. 

For as much as Nicholas can complain about the heat of No Man’s Land, he hates the cold even more. 

He hates shrinking and shivering underneath blankets, and hugging himself in an effort to maintain some of his own body heat. He hates having to stop his own teeth from chattering or when the hair on his neck and arms stands up. Something about these acts always make him feel vulnerable or small, or send his mind back to the times he felt vulnerable and small amidst the cold.

There were more than a few nights where he felt that way at the orphanage despite being looked after and cared for. He can recall far too many nights, when in the clutches of the Eye of Michael, where he felt this way. Whether he lay in a pitiful, broken slump in the corner of a dark cell or confined to the cold hard table of a lab, trembling in dread of how the next experiment might break and morph his body.

The quick flashes of those memories send a chill through him now; A harmless child one moment, bundling up in his blanket as snug as possible while curiously staring up at the stars through the window above his bed. A makeshift adult frozen in his own agony the next moment, hooked up to who knows what through tubes and wires, trapped in a pool of his own blood, eyes wide in shock and barely registering the ceiling above him.

Wolfwood takes a big drag of his cigarette to combat those flashes, inhaling deeply to ensure he can feel the scratchy burn from his throat to his lungs. He lets the smoke sit there for a few beats, the steady dance of the campfire reflecting over the lenses of his glasses. His exhale comes out slowly, the resentment of those colder memories puffing out with the smoke, wafting off to dissipate into the smoke of the fire. 

Wolfwood sighs and taps the butt of his cigarette again, shaking off the extra ash.

(Read the rest on ao3) (Reblogs would be really, really appreciated <3)

#author entries: fics #vashwood #nicholas d. wolfwood #trigun stampede #vashwood fic #first fic of 2024 and my second vashwood fic!! #OH ALSO!! my 40th fic on ao3!!!

[9950world]

Five Seconds

“It’s time for your monthly release opportunity,” Stella said, “pull down your panties.”

She retrieved the tube of Icy-Hot from the refrigerator, and put on a heavy rubber glove.

Dave pulled down his lace panties. Stella unlocked the chastity device and removed it. Dave groaned with discomfort as his cock, free for the first time in a month, tried in vain to expand to its former length. 

Stella squeezed a big dollop of ice-cold Icy-Hot onto her glove. She looked at her watch and firmly grasped Dave’s naked cock with her glove. 

“You get one minute,” she said, as she spread the Icy-Hot all over his shaft and began to squeeze and slip her gloved hand up and down. Dave groaned with the sudden feeling of the frigid Icy-Hot smeared all over his cock. As usual, he just couldn’t hold it. 

“Five seconds until you made your little cummies. Guess you don’t get your full minute this month,” Stella smirked, as she filled the chastity cage up with Icy-Hot, slid it down over his rapidly shrinking cock, and clicked the lock.

[runnning-outof-time]

Hi K! Congrats again on 2K🎉🎉🤍 for the celebration, can I request 🍂 Prompt based fics with the prompt #17 “Are you afraid of me?” from the general section of the fluff, angst, general dialogue prompt list + Tommy Shelby?

Hi Reb! Thanks so much for sending this prompt in and for all of the love you continuously show me! ❤️ Things got a little dark in this one.

Want to help me celebrate hitting 2K followers?? Check out this post for the details - ends Oct. 8th!

Where You’re Not Supposed to Be

Tommy Shelby

Warnings: slightly suggestive situation

After getting into a party she had no grounds to be at, (Y/N) slips into a restroom for a moment of reprieve. She does not know that the man who’d been watching her all night followed her in there.

After finishing with her business, (Y/N) exited the stall and moved over to the mirrors to make sure her appearance was still on par with what the party called for. She wasn’t on the guest list of this rather prestigious event, but managed to get herself in after batting her eyelashes at the man working security. Getting into parties she wasn’t invited to had become somewhat of a past time for; a way for her to live a life that she was so far away from actually achieving.

She touched up her lipstick before putting the cap on the tube and stuffing it into her purse. When she looked up again, she saw a man standing behind her. His sudden appearance made her gasp and bring her hand up to her chest as a physical show of her shock.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he stated, his voice low as his eyes locked onto hers through the reflection.

“Mr. Shelby, you’ve startled me,” she said once she regained her breath. Of course she knew who the man standing behind her was. Everyone in London knew about Tommy Shelby in one way or the other. She knew that sneaking into one of the Shelby family run parties would be a great risk, but so far, it’d come with great reward.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he repeated himself, his voice making her blood run cold as her faint smile dropped altogether.

“I…I don’t know what you mean,” (Y/N) stated as she slowly turned to face him, trying her best to play it cool.

“I mean that I know every single person who’s been put onto the guest list of this event,” he started off, taking a step towards her. In response, (Y/N) took a step back, and her backside immediately collided with the counter she was standing in front of. “You’re not on that list, so you’re not supposed to be here,” he added, his voice dropping even lower due to his proximity.

(Y/N) swallowed and try to keep her cool, although she was having a hard time thinking straight with a man of this much power, who was also very attractive, standing so close to her. She looked over his face before gathering her thoughts and speaking with as much confidence as she could muster, “it’s a shame I’m not on that list,” she told him, her eyes locked onto his.

Tommy chuckled slightly upon hearing her response and took another step closer to her. Now there was only about a step separating them. He did the same thing as her as he calculated his response; looking over her face as he admired it up close for the first time that night. “Are you afraid of me?” he then asked her, his eyebrows raising as his lips parted slightly.

“Am I supposed to be?” she responded with a question of her own, holding his gaze even though she felt like she wanted to shrink into herself at the moment.

A grin formed on his face when he heard what she had to say, and he took that last step that remained in between them, just about pressing his front up against hers. “That’s a good answer, sweetheart,” he commented in a husky whisper as he looked over her features.

The breath got caught in (Y/N)’s throat as Tommy reached out and rested his hand on her cheek. His thumb brushed over her lips as he effectively held her body in place with just the touch of his hand.

“You don’t seem so bothered about your party being crashed now, Mr. Shelby,” she commented, her lips brushing against the pad of his thumb as she spoke. She had no idea how she still had this confidence, but it was coursing through her at the moment. Something about having him so close to her was making her feel powerful as well. “Maybe you should be worried about your party-goers wondering where you’ve gone off to,” she continued, her hands moving to slip into his suit jacket so that she could rest them against his abdomen.

Within seconds, Tommy’s hands came down to grab hers so that he could return them to their initial home against the sink’s counter. (Y/N) gasped at the force in which he used to make this move, and her eyes widened as his one hand came upwards once more so that he could grip the back of her neck. This action brought them even closer, making their noses bump against each other as she felt his hair brush against her forehead.

“You should worry about the consequences of going into where you’re not supposed to be,” he told her, his steely voice outwardly making her shiver this time.

“I’m not afraid of you, Mr. Shelby,” she still tried to hold her ground despite it being obvious that she was very quickly losing her possible upper hand.

“Shame…” he tutted with a slight shake of his head as a grin flashed across his lips. He then leaned in even more so that his lips were just barely brushing against hers. “You really should be,” he uttered his final sentence before his lips crashed against hers.

———

Tagged: @mgcllovdrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @golden-hoax @elenavampire21 @peaky-cillian @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @easilyobessedbutflighty @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @lovemissyhoneybee

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby blurb #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #root2kfollowercelebration

[boundinparchment]

Dream a Little Dream of Me - XXVII

Celestia has a cruel sense of humor. He’s always known this, ever since his days as a student. But a soulmate? Really? Dottore/Female Reader Soulmate AU. Lore speculation, interpretations, etc. On AO3 here. I know I say this every couple of chapters but everything kind of comes to a head emotionally here. If you're not in a good frame of mind, please step away, etc., and come back for Chapter 28.

You jolted awake from the fall with a silent gasp, your diaphragm too tight to allow air fully into your lungs.  Your muscles were stiff, tight, and you barely felt your fingers and toes.  The message from your brain was incredibly slow but if you focused on every pathway along your arm, your finger moved.  

No longer were you in a vast sea of stardust, surrounded by ethereal nothingness.  Your eyes stung with unshed tears, your mind playing catch-up as you found yourself in a darkened room, cluttered with books and papers and half-built machinery.

How long had you been living that lie?

Where were you?

And who, or what, was the imposter who wore your soulmate’s face?  Who knew of your soulmate almost as if he was him?

A fresh tide of agony washed over you as everything played out vividly, over and over.  Memories, clear as day, became blurry where your mind couldn’t figure out what happened, like a distorted moving picture whose film was left to rot in the sun.  The dream itself was more crisp and if you lingered on it too long, you could feel hot breath on your skin, fingers gripping you, an overwhelming sense of loss as you tried, in vain, to compose, to play, to bring life to a lifeless world…

Stifled, suppressed, toyed with, by the one who claimed to be your soulmate.  If he wasn’t your fated bond, then who was he?  Why did he wear the same face?

Would he, too, be capable of such acts?

Surely not, your mind screamed, and then reminded you that when you first met in person, he tried to attack you.  As if you were nothing more than a hindrance, a distraction, a trespasser.

You never knew him at all.  That night in the garden had been a farce too, hadn’t it?  Except that hadn’t been in the dream, you were certain.  That had been real.

Your mouth opened in a soundless scream, face hot as tears seared your cheeks and blurred your vision.  You could not sit up, your muscles betraying you, and instead of sitting up, you arched your back as if that would provide relief instead.

When you did manage a sound, it was guttural, foreign to your ears.

Something cold brushed your hand and you pulled away despite the protest from your joints.  A voice, familiar, too familiar, called your name and you flinched, shrinking further towards the wall.  Steady beeping, what sounded like a digital metronome, began to race in time with the thumping of your heart.  You were vaguely aware of tubing and wires, your shackles when whatever fogginess that kept its claws in your mind failed to keep in place.

The hands were back again, this time not reaching for you but the tangles of wires and trying to free you but you didn’t care.  No one would touch you again, no one would make your skin crawl and burn and make you wish you could scrub away every trace of contamination.  In your anger and confusion, something tore free from your elbow and you looked down to see something wet and sticky and hot trail down your arm.

The voice was saying something you couldn’t quite understand; it sounded as though you were deep underwater, your own pulse drowning out anything, everything else.  Through your watery gaze, you could make out blue hair, red eyes open wide, watching, a bird with a metal beak resting upon tall shoulders and a glowing blue earring that was absolutely unmistakable.

No.  Anyone but him.

Once, you would have adored the sight of him, happy to finally see dreams become reality.  But that was before .

You scrambled towards the other end of the couch and then, out of desperation, got your feet.  Newborn horses had more grace than you and you stumbled, muscles protesting.  Arms outstretched and hands were open, displaying they held nothing, but he still stood between you and the door.

“I understand you're confused, frightened even,” the Doctor said.  “But you need to sit down.”

That tone.  He used that tone, too.  Sweet but authoritative; he knew best.

But he didn’t.

“I will explain but time is short and you have been under heavy anesthesia.”

Your legs couldn’t take much more of this but you refused to give in.  Not to him.  Never to him.

But the expression he wore drove a knife into your already-aching gut.  He wasn’t enjoying this at all, not the way you expected him to.  His crimson eyes were bloodshot and the beginnings of dark circles beneath them told you he hadn’t slept at all.  If he wanted to harm you, wouldn’t he have done it already?

Or was he simply luring you into a false sense of security?

Somehow, you found your voice, hoarse and dry.  “If you care about me at all, let me go.”

His lips never curled into a smile.  Everything you expected, be it a malicious grin or a deep, amused laugh, never came.  Instead, his shoulders fell, a quiet smoldering rage taking root at his brow.  The Doctor’s words were quiet, certain.

“You’ll have to forgive me, then.  We both know that’s impossible.”

No, no, no…

Every part of your body screamed and in desperation, your hands found themselves around a hilt of worn leather, the pattern matching your hands exactly.  You willed yourself forward, bringing the blade with you, but before it could crest its arc, you felt sharp pain in your shoulders and arms and the strike landed short of your target.  Your vision swam as you tried again but it was like trying to push a sumpter beast out of the road; impossible and far too taxing.  

Agony did not look good on him at all, you thought, as the world spun again, betraying you once more.

#dottore #il dottore #il dottore x reader #dottore x reader #dottore x female reader #il dottore x female reader #genshin impact reader insert #soulmate au

[hummingbird-of-light]

First story for @badthingshappenbingo ~

Title: An Engineer's Last Moment

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS)

Character(s): Montgomery "Scotty" Scott, USS Enterprise

Relationship(s): Montgomery "Scotty" Scott & USS Enterprise (platonic love)

Rating: T

Words: 555

Prompt: Claustrophobia

Warnings: Angst, Major Character Death

(You can also find this story on AO3)

~ An Engineer's Last Moment ~

His heart was beating out of his chest, pulse racing. It felt like he couldn't breathe. And that was just the problem.

Soon enough he would run out of air. And then he wouldn't be able to breathe for real.

He ran his hands through his damp hair, shaking his head over and over again.

It was a nightmare. Never in his life had Montgomery Scott expected that she'd kill him. That his gorgeous silver lady would be the death of him.

He couldn't move. The Jefferies tube was way too small to properly stretch his arms or legs. It was the most horrifying experience the Scotsman could go through.

"Please, lass, let me out of here," he begged in a hoarse whisper, gently running his hand across the cold metal in front of him. He didn't dare to punch it for he didn't want to hurt the Enterprise.

As much as he wished to scream out loud, he knew that it was of no use. No one would hear him anyway.

Everyone was busy trying to fight off the intruders. The alien species that had somehow managed to hack into their computer systems.

These bastards had taken control of his poor silver lady. They had shut down the turbolifts so that the engineers' only way to move through the ship had been the tubes.

And then? Then they had sealed them. They had locked Scotty and probably several other members of his staff inside.

The Scotsman closed his eyes, trying to calm his breathing. He tried to picture his home in his mind.

Scotland. The bonniest place on Earth.

The wide open fields, the glenns, the mountains, the lakes. It was all just so gorgeous. It was the place he had loved for so many years.

If only he could stand on a hill right now, cold wind hitting his face.

Hot tears slowly streamed down his face as he thought about the days when his little brother and him had played outside, rolling down the hills, laughing.

Everything had been perfect.

And now? Now he was slowly suffocating inside a wee tube aboard the ship he loved so much.

It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair that these monsters turned his lovely lass against him!

"Please," he whispered once more. If only he could get through to her. If only he could save her.

With every minute passing, the Jefferies tube seemed to shrink. It was only his imagination, Scotty knew that, but then again it felt just so real. The walls appeared to be coming closer and closer. They wanted to crush him.

"Don't do this, lass, please."

He knew that there was no way out. He knew that he'd die in this place.

The less air he had to breathe, the worse the hallucinations got.

The walls were closing in on him. They pressed all the air from his lungs, crushed his bones, his organs.

The last thing he muttered, when unconsciousness was gentle enough to take him, were the words he needed his silver lady to know.

"It's okay. I... I forgive ye."

It wasn't her fault. And therefore he would never blame her. For she had never meant to hurt him.

One last time, his hand brushed gently across the metal, then it dropped to the ground, staying motionless forever.

#bad things happen bingo #prompt: claustrophobia #fandom: star trek aos #fanficfion #montgomery scott #uss enterprise #whump #angst #major character death

[upmheatshrink]

Heat shrink puzzles,would you find which are the thin wall heat shrink tubing, and which are the heat shrink connector. Is there cold shrink here?

#shrink tubing #upm heat shrink specialist #cable protection #heat shrink #shrink sleeve #heat shrink connector #shrink terminator #expandable braided sleeve #shrink end cap #cold shrink tube #high shrink ratio 6:1 #bus bar insulation #fiber optic splice #solder sleeve #thin wall tube #electronic wire insulation

[obsidiancreates]

Icewild (Part 1)

The morning comes slowly, the sun creeping up over the horizon and peeking through the ring of stormclouds. The hollow of the storm looms, bright and deceptively cheerful as it shines on the ruins o a once bustling city.

None of that matters, because the peace of the morning is broken by Daisy shaking Jornir awake with a look of panic.

Jornir jolts awake quickly, rubbing both eyes with one hand and getting to his feet. "What is the matter?"

"We found people," Daisy signs. "We don't know- they're strange, like all of you."

"Like us?"

"Not exactly like you. But they aren't human and aren't ogre."

"The others know?"

"They're watching them. They haven't woken up yet."

Jornir follows quickly, Daisy leading him through the former House of Knowledge to the garden Jornir had met that first strangely intelligent bird in. Barnabos is dragging a large red body over to a pile of other bodies of varying sizes as Skrimm and Taishen stand, ready for anything, and Queenie fusses over a large creature curled up by a small green body.

"-ain't never seen one in real life before, Taishy! Look at it, it's just a baby!"

"This is a baby?" Taishen's eyes go wide as he stares at the large creature. "How large do these owlbears get?"

"Oh, they get real big, bigger than them polar bears I think."

"And this one is just laying next to us?!" Skrimm scrambles up Barnabos's shoulders.

"What is happening?" Jornir joins them, looking down at the pile. His eyes trail over to one body in particular, and his expression tightens. "What is that?"

"Fucked up is what it is," Skrimm says, keeping the Brutal Blade pointed at the bugbear with th tubes and machinery embedded into it. "Eugh, it reeks, and that's comin' from me!"

"I didn't wanna say nothing Skrimm but, yeah you could use a bath."

"You all could use a bath," Daisy signs. "But later. Do we think these creatures are dangerous?"

"That thing?" Jornir says, gesturing to the bugbear. "Yes. The things in it's flesh are... unnatural. I have never seen anything like it before. The others..."

A bit of green scale catches his eye, and he rolls the purple-suited body over. "Oh, no."

Barnabos's eyes widen. "Aye, it's an alligator folk! The lad'll be freezin' half to death already, even without the snow! Mr. Fireblossom, warm 'im up!"

Taishen startles a bit, but does as he's told. "Alligator folk?"

"Aye, good sailors along the waterways inland, but I've never worked wi' one outside of the most temperate of seas. They're cold-blooded, Mr. Fireblossom. Too hot or too cold and the lad could die faster than any o' us." Barnabos chews his pipe. "How'd someone li' 'im end up here?"

"They just appeared overnight." Daisy eyes the unconscious group warily. "No-one knows how they got here, except that there was a flash of that color." She gestures at the glowing canisters in the bugbear's back.

"W-well..." Skrimm looks around. "Are any of us gonna wake them up and ask what's going on, or are we just waiting for them to do it?"

"Aye, I've got this, Mr. Stabbaskotch." Barnabos picks up the unconscious goblin and shakes him. "RISE AND SHINE, LAD!"

The goblin shrieks as he's woken up, and the rest of the figures bolt upright as well! The alligator-folk smacks his face right into Taishen's hands, burning his snout! Taishen reels back as the alligator shouts and curses and flings out with a cane and another creature, a small woman with wings, screams and throws a small pig at Taishen!

"ENOUGH!" Jornir hits his walking stick against the ground, and everything freezes. The big red guy has his fists raised, chains hanging down from them as he glares between Taishen and Barnabos. The alligator has his cane raised, looking oddly unsurprised and very tired. The small fairy woman climbs up the back of the bugbear even as the bugbear shrinks back, confused and frightened, and she glares at anyone who looks their way. A tabaxi stares at Barnabos as the goblin dangles from his hands, the owlbear standing and ready to swipe at the Triton.

"Who are you?" Jornir asks, voice sinking back to it's usual volume. "Where did you come from?"

"Is this a fuckin' dream?" the alligator says, eyeing the world around him.

"Nah, feels too cold, man. Hey, uh, big blue guy, can you put Gricko down before he fuckin' dies?"

The goblin in question, Gricko, is not looking well after his awakening by shaking. "Ooooh, little girallons... hello..."

"Gricko! Do ya smell burnin' feathers?!"

Gricko sniffs deeply. "Um... no! No. But I do smell..." he sniffs again and wrinkles his nose. "Kremy, didn't we hire an ogre once?"

"To climb the Harris Wheel before Tobek, yeah."

"I smell that."

"There's fuckin' ogres here?!" Kremy grabs at his top hat and looks around wildly. "Oh gods!"

The bugbear at the edge of the group makes a sort of groan/whine noise. "Ooooooh, Torbek doesn't like this, this is worse than the hag!"

"Hag?!" Skrimm looks around now with an equal paranoia to Kremy. "What the fuck do you mean, hag?!"

"I think perhaps-!" Taishen calls out, "-perhaps we could all use a moment to calm down over some tea!"

"That would be... appreciated." The tabaxi eyes Barnabos. "As soon as he sets Gricko down."

"Oh, aye. Sorry abou' that, lad, forgot I was holdin' ya." Barnabos sets Gricko down, and the owlbear immediately bounds over and begins nuzzling the goblin.

"Oh, daddy's alright Hootsie! You're such a good girl, not going in to gut them! Yes, who's such a good girl?" Gricko kisses Hootsie's forehead and scratches under her beak.

"You've got a tame owlbear?" Queenie watches Gricko and Hootsie with wide eyes as Taishen begins setting up for tea. "How the hells did you manage that?"

"Oh, well, she's my daughter!" Gricko grins at Queenie. "Hootsie! Show them one of your lovely stylish jigs!"

And, to the amazement of all but the newcomers, Hootsie stands on her hind legs and does a little dance.

"... We've got some fuckin' weirdos here, Jornir," Skirmm says, looking up.

Jornir nods just as Taishen announces that the tea is ready.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So you were actually in the Feywild?" Queenie looks almost dreamily at the newcomers. "I've been plannin' to retire there my whole life."

"Well, maybe pick somewhere other than Prismeer, if ya can," Kremy advises, wincing. "It's kinda a shitshow."

"Yeah," Gideon says, downing his tea in one go. "I mean, not like you're in paradise right now, but, least there's no fuckin' hags here."

"Just horrible brains and cannibal spirits, oh yeah, much better," Skrimm mutters. He peers at Gricko. "You're not from the moors, are you?"

"Oh, no," Gricko says with a smack of his mouth. "No, no. I'm from a swamp, like Kremy!"

"Well, not exactly like me," Kremy says, brushing off his lapel.

"What? They're very similar, but mine had a college and rock bands and yours had gambling and voodoo men."

"And gumbo," Frost points out as he sips tea.

"Oh!" Gricko slumps a little, looking thoughtful. "Yeah, we didn't have gumbo. Gosh, I wish we had."

"What is gumbo?" Jornir asks. Had been keeping mostly quiet as introductions and explaining had gone on, and now he mostly watches the newcomers as they interact with the others.

Kremy leans over a bit, shocked. "Y'all never had gumbo before?!"

"I've heard o' it," Barnabos says, "Never 'ad it though."

"Well, then, in the spirit of uh, good relations and y'all not killin' us or tossin' us into that snowstorm to die, how about I cook up some gumbo for everyone?"

"Sounds great!"

"Alright." Kremy stands and pulls out a small bag, reaches far deeper into it than should be possible, and pulls out a bundle of clothes.

"Oooh! Can I be your sous chef again, Kremy?" Twig bounces to her feet from the end of the table where she'd been showing Torbek how to hold his pinkie out while drinking tea.

"I appreciate the offer, Twig, but I wanna make sure everythin's cooked this time. No offense."

"I did what you told me to!"

"You did! From a certain point of view, you did. But uh, I'll just do it myself I think."

"Well now, I'm this here groups cook," Barnabos says, getting up. "I'll not be havin' a stranger cookin' us anything without my watching, if you don't mind."

"Oh, uh... well, I don't see why not. Hey, Gid?"

"Yeah?"

"Mind comin' and startin' the fires for me?"

"Alright man." Gideon stands up and walks over, and the three head somewhere to get cooking.

There's some silence at the table.

Torbek looks at Frost and appears to strain in some way. Frost sighs, and turns to Jornir. "Excuse me, but, you've been looking at Torbek strangely since we arrived and it's making him uncomfortable."

"You understood that from a look?" Queenie looks at Torbek. "I thought the poor fella just had to use the shitter."

"Oh, no, Torbek will just go to the rubble if he needs to do that."

"There's bathrooms here."

"Ooooh! Even better!"

Frost sighs again. "Thank goodness. Anyway, it would be appreciated if you didn't look at Torbek that way. We would like to avoid stressing him too much if we can, he has... issues."

"He has an unnatural affliction, implanted in his being." Jornir looks down at Frost. "Are those his issues?"

Frost glances at the canisters. "They're... related, yes."

"We have just fought creatures of unnatural origin. A terrible creature, that intended to... warp, and... corrupt, all of us. All of this land."

"Well, Torbek has no intent to do that. None of us do, we're uh, we're stuck here by chance! We went to sleep after a cooking competition and woke up here, it's all very strange."

Jornir and Frost stare at each other for a few moments, trying to figure the other out. Finally, Jornir nods.

"Alright. But I will keeping an eye on you all."

"I understand. ... Keep an eye on Gricko the most, just in case the strange magics of the Feywild have followed us here. He-he tends to be um..."

"To go cookoo-bananas?" Torbek says slowly, leaning as close to Frost as he can (which is disturbing should-be-possible-if-his-body-wasn't-warped amounts of close).

"I wasn't going to phrase it that way, but yes. If he begins talking about frozen peas or uh- suddenly turns into a clown, just tie him up I think. That usually goes poorly."

"I'm going to go warn the other vassals about these people," Daisy signs to Jornir.

Jornir nods, watching Torbek break his teacup, Twig pull a frog out of her apron and lick it, Gricko pull a dead rat out of his pack and toss it to Hootsie, and Frost use an invisible force of magic to snag some honey from the dish Queenie has set out. "I think that would be wise."

Clearly, these people are going to have to be watched for however long they're here for.

#legends of avantris #icebound #once upon a witchlight #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC Season 2 Chapter 54 Translation (Lucien's Route - Part 7 [Accept the Call])

⚠️  SPOILER ALERT  ⚠️

This post contains a VERY HEAVY SPOILER for the chapter that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

"But more importantly, I saw scenes of growing old together with you… This long-cherished wish was fulfilled ahead of time~"

Lucien listens in silence, his breath carrying almost imperceptible tremors.

"Fool, that's just a simulation of data."

"What you'll see with your own eyes in the future, those are the real scenes."

"As for how accurate it is... you'll need to verify it when the time comes."

cw: major character death

Translation under the cut!

Previous part-> [Here]

Weariness slowly surges from my limbs.

Gradually, a numb sensation blankets every tiny nerve.

Unbeknownst to me, my body becomes heavy, and even my mind becomes hazy.

I cease to contemplate, allowing consciousness to sink and sink in the surging sound... In a daze, I see fragmented images passing by.

The rifts that spread across the sky and the city are like scars; they continue to shrink and eventually disappear without a trace;

The ground, once damaged and collapsed by the rifts, transforms back into a smooth surface, giving rise to lush greenery.

Countless broken scenes seem to be flowing backward, ultimately converging into a new picture—

A massive instrument formed by gears rotates intermittently. After a golden gear get into one of the gaps, it finally resumes operation.

...I finally understand what the world's erasure of me truly signifies.

It requires me to transform into a gear, bringing everything to a complete end.

—-------------------------------------------------------

The instrument's rapid beeping sound reaches my ears as I slowly open my eyes.

The laboratory seems immersed in a cold, deep-sea blue, exuding an inexplicable sense of depression and coldness.

It seems like... this isn't the same laboratory as before? I sluggishly scan the surroundings, spotting Lucien engrossed in adjusting some instruments.

Even though I only see his back, I can't help but feel that he seems a little confused and at a loss.

MC: Lucien….

I softly call his name, shifting my body, only then realizing that there are several intravenous tubes attached to my arm.

Various-colored liquids silently flow into my body, as if attempting to fill a long-broken container.

Upon hearing my sound, Lucien pauses, turning in my direction.

His eyes seem to widen slightly as he quickly strides over to my side.

It's only then that I notice bloodshot veins in his eyes, and the sharp gleam in those eyes that usually shines brightly has dimmed.

He cradles one of my hands, his gaze fixed intensely on me.

Lucien: …Are you cold?

I lower my gaze, keenly sensing the changes in my body, yet feeling warmth slipping away bit by bit.

MC: ....A little cold.

He hesitates for a moment while holding my hand. Lucien then stands up and drapes his lab coat over me.

Lucien: It's okay, you'll warm up soon.

He mumbles, it's unclear whether he's talking to me or to himself. Afterward, he swiftly turns away, searching for something on the laboratory bench.

Lucien: There are drugs here that enhance cell activity. Taking them should improve your current condition.

Lucien carefully places the pill on my tongue. I muster the strength in my parched throat to swallow it, attempting to muster a faint smile.

MC: Um, I feel so much more comfortable now…

I speak cheerfully, though acutely aware that the chill doesn't originate from the surroundings but from within my own body.

The gradually spreading cold at my fingertips makes me involuntarily curl up until a warm sensation envelops me from behind.

Lucien's embracing arms tighten incredibly, as if he intends to transfer all warmth to me.

The scent of cedar mixed with the unknown aroma of medicine wafts into my nostrils. I nuzzle my head against his chest, feeling a slight haze in my consciousness.

MC: Lucien, can we go outside for a walk... I don't like the smell in the laboratory.

Lucien: .....Alright, where do you want to go?

MC: Somewhere quiet... There are some things I want to tell you.

Lucien responds in a low tone. When I open my eyes, When I open my eyes, we're at what seems to be an abandoned station.

Withered vines climb along the stopped clock, everything frozen in the air as if time had come to a standstill.

MC: Unknowingly, winter has been here for a while now.

Lucien: (in a very, very gentle voice that's barely above a whisper) Mm, the temperature is very low this winter, but luckily, there haven't been many rainy days.

Lucien: Tomorrow will be a bit warmer. How about we go to the park you wanted to go to?

Lucien's voice is so soft, and in a trance, it makes me feel like the scene before me is just an illusion. A louder sound would be like a stone thrown into it, ready to shatter it at any moment.

Unconsciously, I also lowered my voice.

MC: Tomorrow, huh. I'm a bit tired, can we postpone it to later? Is that okay?

Lucien nods silently and slowly. I smile, and my eyelids become a bit heavy.

MC: Sleep early tonight, and make sure to get proper sleep in the future nights. Don't sacrifice sleep and meals for experiments...

MC: ...Also, remember to eat each meal diligently and take good care of yourself.

I struggle to maintain my consciousness, intermittently speaking. Lucien doesn't interrupt me; instead, his arms around me tighten more and more.

MC: And, I really like that dream you took me to see with you.

MC: When I look at your childhood photos, I often imagine how you must have looked back then.

I pause, taking a tired breath.

MC: But more importantly, I saw scenes of growing old together with you…

MC: This long-cherished wish was fulfilled ahead of time~

Lucien: …..

Lucien listens in silence, his breath carrying almost imperceptible tremors.

Lucien: Fool, that's just a simulation of data.

Lucien: What you'll see with your own eyes in the future, those are the real scenes.

Lucien: As for how accurate it is... you'll need to verify it when the time comes.

The surroundings grow increasingly dim, as if a heavy window is slowly closing. I lift the corner of my lips as if nothing is wrong, intending to respond to him, but only a breathy sound escapes my throat.

MC: ….

Lucien stares at me intently, silently waiting for me to speak again. However, time passes bit by bit, and I'm still unable to produce any sound.

In the end, I shook my head.

I'm sorry, Lucien. I no longer have the strength to speak, even though there are so many things I still want to say to you…

However, as if to fill the silence, Lucien suddenly speaks in a very soft and gentle tone.

Lucien: The process of the world ascending is advancing, and I will try to expedite it so you can see it sooner.

Lucien: However, if that happens, the world might not be as beautiful. I guess you might not like it, so I want to weave a dream.

Lucien: In the dream, there are only the two of us. We can do anything we want together, become whatever we want to be.

He speaks to me in a low and gentle tone, yet it's more like talking to himself. Then, he furrows his brow, as if pondering something.

Lucien: However, implementing this is a bit challenging. If we can quantify identity data and reorganize it, maybe we can topology a similar effect…

Lucien: ….Sorry, I got distracted for a moment. However, all those plans and wishes of ours can be fulfilled in the future, one by one.

I nod as best I can, and he looks at me with empty eyes, lifting a rather content smile.

Lucien: (whispers so gently) In the summer, we can go to the woods together to see fireflies and help them return to the night.

Lucien: (x2) After autumn, the view from the observation deck on the mountain is beautiful, and it will be refreshing when the fireworks go off.

Lucien: (X3) When winter comes, I can accompany you to lively places to celebrate—

Lucien suddenly chuckles softly, his voice taking on a hint of cunningness.

Lucien: And find a bunch of mistletoe, then quietly hang it above our heads.

Lucien: As for spring, there are even more things to do. We can watch the last snowfall of winter, go out to admire peach blossoms, and trim the branches and leaves of the flowers and plants at home…

Lucien: And before spring ends, we'll go fly a kite.

In an instant, as if the hollow space in my heart is suddenly filled, I feel the urge to lift my hand and reach towards Lucien—

However, my remaining strength can no longer support the raised arm, and it slowly falls back down.

In my daze, Lucien seems to be still speaking, but I can no longer hear any syllables.

My vision gradually fades to black, the world silently taking the last ray of light from my existence, and I have no strength to resist.

As my consciousness dissolves, I see Lucien dressed in white, standing under a camphor tree.

He holds a light purple butterfly kite in his hand, turning around to gaze at me with a smile.

So, without hesitation, I run towards him, and together, we slowly unravel the tangled string of the kite—

Lucien, thank you for lending me spring at last.

(sounds of things getting violently destroyed) Bang-

With a violent noise, the station's gate is finally broken open.

Fully armed NW agents rush in, all weapons and Evols pointed directly at Lucien.

Dozens of targeting lines converge on him, and ominous red lights are ready to lock onto the target at the slightest command.

NW Member B: Professor Lucien, where did you transfer the CORE to?!

NW Member A: Your actions constitute serious dereliction of duty! Provide an explanation!

The atmosphere is tense, and amid all the chaos, Lucien, at the center of everything, looks emptily at what he holds in his arms, a gentle smile playing on his lips—

As if a gentle figure is still in front of him.

Lucien: (murmuring to himself yet it's also as if he's talking to someone) Then it's a promise.

Lucien: Are you worried about the outside world...? Hmm... The place where samples of the CORE is still preserved is…

NW Member A: Professor Lucien!

Lucien: ...If they can be used to influence the rift, can they achieve a similar effect…

NW Member B: Please answer! You should know that under special circumstances, we have the right to use force!

Lucien: .....Or perhaps, to ensure a more reliable outcome, need to develop a device that can amplify the force of CORE first….

It seems Lucien hasn't heard these questions, or perhaps, he has become completely indifferent to these voices.

He calmly and immersedly calculates the possibility of the unfinished experiment continuing to progress.

Several members of the NW team exchange glances, as if they have made a certain decision.

But before the gestures for action can fall into place, Lucien's figure moves slightly, as if he has finally obtained some answer.

The next second, he disappears before everyone's eyes.

—--------------------------------------------------------

[T/N: Some unknown time has passed]

The evening sky is torn into various-sized fragments by rifts, and the dispersing black mist gradually erodes the world that seemed to be pieced together bit by bit.

Lucien walks through the abandoned station, heading towards a distant building. A hunched figure stumbles past him, their shoulders accidentally brushing when they pass each other.

Upon recognizing Lucien's face, the other person freezes for a moment, then angrily stands up.

Man: It's all because of you... It's you and that damned ascension machine that turned the world into this mess!

The man's lips tremble as he tries to step forward, but he is stopped by several others who have hurried over.

Elderly person: Show some respect! Professor Lucien is the one guiding us toward dimensional ascension!

Woman: The troubles at hand are just necessary sacrifices; the world is moving in the direction of evolution! You really have a short-sighted perspective!

Dust rises in the air and sunlight scattered across the vast ruins, casting a gentle hue on everything that's broken.

In the world, some people are arguing, while others are celebrating.

However, Lucien doesn't stop in the midst of the chaos; he simply continues step by step towards the direction he is supposed to go.

"Everything we do is meaningful."

He had affirmed this to the girl before, and he still believes it so firmly.

Achieved ending: "Belated Spring"

-

[Lux's personal analysis and rambles of this bad ending]

Disclaimer: it's my personal interpretation on the ending and I'm not in any way saying it's the only true interpretation. Even in CN fandom this ending has different interpretation ahah. The only sure thing is that he's really lost it, not caring on the sacrifices needed and the world is heading towards collapse as it ascends toward something that's beyond our understanding 😗

ok perhaps that the moment world will ascends and probably all that sacrificed will come back in next dimension but ehh we'll never know.

Anyway! I think his BE is rather unique (and very in line with his characterization lol) compared to other MLs MC-turned-into-gear BE; When other ML decide to 'follow' MC's 'steps', whether passively or actively- while Lucien stubbornly and ambitiously tries to makes her return to his side in the world. Only in the 'world' can they fulfill those promises, and he stubbornly refuses to accept a fate where MC has to be sacrificed. And, in a twisted way actually has some hope in it, although, yeah the price is very heavy and less moral.

This ending is beautifully and tragically craftedಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ. I really appreciate how there are so many references to previous dates (and promise SOB). Those scenes where he desperately tries to sustain MC's life, attempting to transfer his body heat as coldness gradually consumes her entire being, his voice so tender it feels like it might shatter any second… I- ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

Also, do you know this little fact about Lucien that we discovered from the 3rd Anniversary event, that he will ramble a lot when he's scared? Although it's not explicitly stated, his fear is described through this little habit of his. So, when he's rambling about so many different things, like his previous plan of two-people-dream world, it's actually a distraction and a manifestation of his fear at the thought of losing her ༼⁠;⁠´⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠۝ ⁠༎ຶ⁠༽

AND THEN, there's also MC messages to him ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ can you believe that even until her last moment, she’s still fucking worried about him. The way she fights to maintain a positive facade for him despite knowing it's a lost cause… She really loves him doesn’t she…. At my first reading, this scene was what makes me finally broke into SOB after holding back tears.

As if these knives weren’t enough, then they started to talk about their future  ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ. They have the same wish, to spend many, many futures with each other. But…. apparently they can’t so MC is thankful of the vision that she saw where she grows old together with Lucien, while Lucien still stubbornly refused the future that has no her in it. Lucien’s denial and MC’s comfort hurts so much man…, and in his vision of the future with her… it’s as if PG wants to rub salt on our already gaping wound, some of them are actually a reference to previous dates; Like Firefly Date, Flower Date (a.k.a the Christmas event date), and Blossom Date… Then the final knife drops- THE KITE PROMISE. The one that has been taking YEARS to be realized.

I think….. It’s in that moment Lucien realizes that it might be the last time he can fulfill this promise. So, at her very last moment, he takes her to his dream world; lending her spring so they can fulfill this promise at last. When he rambles and gazes emptily at his hand, he might still be talking with her in that dream… Making a promise that we don’t know the content of but *needs* her to exist to be fulfilled.

The moment she’s erased from the real and his dream world, he promptly engages in calculating the feasibility of resuming the unfinished experiment. He adamantly refuses to accept that the experiment has concluded, persisting in his belief that there must be a way to bring her back. After all, there are still traces of her like the CORE samples. All hope is not lost, although it’s a very small one.

Lucien's solution to bring her back and continue the unfinished experiment involves accelerating the world's ascension to the fourth dimension, by utilizing the amplified CORE samples. While the precise details leading to this conclusion remain a mystery, we can speculate based on our understanding of the fourth dimension.

In the fourth dimension, the trajectories of individuals can be observed from birth to death. My first hypothesis is that by ascending the world to the fourth dimension, MC may return in her past form until her ‘death’. Alternatively, the shift to the fourth dimension might also enable Lucien to alter the narrative's course, potentially saving her. Personally, I think this one is the least possible because the erasure might also affect the fourth dimension (and, as we can see in Victor's ending, even he who becoming the time itself can't change the narrative).

Moreover, considering that MC herself is a higher-dimensional existence (see S2 chapter 51), perhaps elevating the world to a higher dimension could prevent her from being erased. This hypothesis in a nutshell is basically transforming the world to be 'more fitting' for her. However, the problem with this hypothesis lies in the question of, what if MC is already erased in the first place? Though it’s also possible that Lucien can somehow make her return after making sure the world won’t erase her again the moment she comes back. Or, does ascending the whole world also heighten the probability of Lucien getting into "the heart of the world" a.k.a the place where MC turned into gear, finishing that unfinished experiment and bringing her back to the already-ascended-world himself?

ANYWAY, those are just hypotheses. We probably will never know what’s going on in Lucien’s head, not to mention that the concept of the higher dimension itself is beyond human comprehension (even in that BE + R&S where MC chose to ascend the world, it actually didn't end up happening, well, or uhh didn't yet(?)). My interpretation is that he’s ready to sacrifice anything for her, the only price that he can’t bear to sacrifice. His ending is the most ambitious and also insane, literally for him because he seeks to reverse her sacrifice, with the whole world (including himself) as the price of the ‘bet’. It doesn’t matter that people curse him as he turns into some kind of ‘tyrant’ or being fanatical of him. It doesn’t matter that by ascending the world, he also led it to its collapse, he won’t let go of the possibility of her existence. “Everything we do is meaningful.” And he firmly believes in it.

#SOBBING CRYING WHTA IS THIS PG!!!!!!!! #mlqc lucien #mr love queen's choice #mlqc cn #mlqc spoiler #mlqc #mlqc translation #mr. love queen's choice #mr love lucien #mlqc xu mo #mlqc spoilers

[risentohell]

Once an Avenger now a dead HYDRA Agent

Tony’s shoulders hung as well did Steve’s “we did this didn't we Steve, you and me were the reason that bright and young, wonderful human is no longer with us.” the billionaire asked before sinking into a chair that sat in the corner of the room. Steve stood there for a good minute before answering “no Stark we didn't, those bastards at HYDRA did this not us.” he placed a hand on your covered arm. “I'll kill them all for this I promise you Y/N” he whispered as he squeezed your arm then left your cold dead body and Tony alone in the room.

Three and a half months prier-

“Yes I get it, I messed up the mission, now can your three stop harassing me about it we got the info and the building was destroyed so what does it matter now.” you screamed at the people in front of you. Steve slammed his hands on the table between you “no you don't Y/N your mess up caused Clint and Wanda to get injured.” he bellowed back at you, shrinking in the chair you were sitting in and you frowned, not even trying to defend yourself. “this was your last strike Y/N you're off the team, pack your things and leave the compound.” Natasha said coldly as she uncrossed her arms.

You sat there for a moment trying to understand what she just said. Sitting up straight, cleared your throat trying to hold the tears that were filling up your eye’s at bay, you smiled at them “alright then if that's the decision.” you said raising from the seat and leaving the room with no goodbye or fight in your voice, besides you knew they never even wanted you there to begin with so if they were going to use this as an excuse to throw you away so easily than you were going to let it happen with a smile.

You didn't even pack away your stuff you had gathered in your bedroom over the past year just simply strolled out of the building leaving behind the last seven years of SHIELD work and the last year of being on the Avengers. Gone washed away as you walked to your bike and drove off as the tears finally left your eyes. They broke you that day and as the tears rolled down your cheeks you let the devil inside of you out fully for the first time in ten years knowing that you wouldn't be able to stop it this time even if you wanted to.

Clint woke with a cough, his lungs burning from the pain of one of his three broken ribs having stabbed them. Natasha bolted up right from the chair she was sleeping in “god Clint we thought you would never wake up. Hopefully since you're awake Wanda will wake up soon.” she said as she grabbed a glass of water and offered the straw to the man, he refused and cleared his throat “is Y/N okay if it wasn't for them Wanda and I would be dead.” he coughed out before finally accepting the drink. Natasha froze as she squeezed the paper cup tighter “there okay right Nat?” Clint asked with a frown, his heart monitor rising as he pushed her hands away and tried to sit up.

She couldn't answer ‘what did he mean Y/N saved them?” she thought, her heart pounding. “NATASHA ANSWER ME IS Y/N OKAY” Clint screamed, his heart monitor a constant scream now. She stepped back from the bed “I…uhh…we….they di….they didn't do….this?” she muttered out to the man who began yanking the tubes from his arms.

Clint and Wanda stood there shocked as twenty armed guards pointed their guns at them, when suddenly you burst through the doors too there left all the guns that were on them pointed to you. You froze for a second “sorry guys but those dont really work on me.” you told them casually as you slowly closed the door behind yourself “Wanda, Clint are you okay?” you called out and they both sent you a nod of yes. You smiled at them, fangs appearing in your mouth “good then run I can take them.” you flashed before them and shoved them out the room before slamming the door shut as the building began to fall apart as you took down soldier after soldier.

“So they used more force than normal but they got Wanda and I out of that room and blew up the building like you told them to.” Clint seethed as he paced the meeting room after telling Steve, Natasha and Tony why Wanda and himself were in a medical room. All three stood there shocked, not knowing of your abilities; no one on the team knew of them, but to be able to move as fast as Pietro and be as strong as Steve was something you never showed in training or in any other mission before. Now they had just kicked you out with no real reason to do so other than they thought you had hurt two of your teammates because you couldn't handle missions with other people.

One month and a half after The Avengers kicked you out-

Finding yourself standing in front of a HYDRA compound was not where you thought you would ever be without a team surrounding you for backup, yet here you were. Raising a fist you knocked on the big metal door in front of you. A devilish smile graced your lips as it opened “good evening I have some information that I think you all would like.” you told the man standing before you.

The man in front of you smirked, “your willing to give all of us the information you know on the Avengers in exchange we let you kill Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers?” he asked. You sat across from him with a matching smirk “I am I'm done pushing away the devil that lives inside of me for the accommodations of The Avengers and SHIELD.” he smiled “excellent.”, he said, laying his palm out for you to shake. That was the day you signed the deal with HYDRA to ruin the team you thought was once your family even if deep down you knew they never wanted you.

#marvel #angst #like wtf #mcu imagine #natasha x reader #character death #im sorrry #origanal character #dont hate me #first chapter #wanda maximoff #clint barton #steve rogers #tony stark #avengers x oc #avengers x reader #avengers x you

[therogueheart]

Billy's still angry, once its over. That doesn't change.

He can't be angry in the same way anymore, fists and blood and red mist. His body won't let him. Can't. But the anger is still there.

He's angry at the monster. For latching onto him, doing this to him. Angry at himself, for letting it. For being who he was, so it could. He's angry at Max, who didn't fucking tell him. Didn't warn him. Believe him when he said he didn't mean to.

Angry at his Dad, who takes every penny of the hush money the government gave him and leaves. Leaves just like his mom, leaves Billy behind too.

And Susan. And Max.

Angry at fucking Harrington. Harrington, who lied to him. Who let Max get tangled up in this shit. Who tried to fucking kill him. Killed his babygirl. Took away the one spark of hope and freedom Billy'd ever had.

Angry at the nurses, who tolerate his bitchiness and stubbornness with a tight-lipped pity, who only punish his barbed words by not giving him a jello-o cup with his dinner like he's fucking five again.

He's angry at these walls. These doors. The thin hospital blankets and how its always cold and the bed's too small and his ass is out in a paper gown. Angry at the shrink who sits with him twice a week and tells him life is different now, but there's still hope.

A fresh start.

He'll never eat properly again. Has to take 12 pills a day just to keep on keeping on. There's a tube up his nose to help him breathe that'll never come out and a tube up his dick and occasionally one down his throat when his lungs decide its time to take a nap.

He hasn't left this fucking bed in four months. He's angry about that too.

They cut his hair. He's so angry at that he cries, crashes, has to be sedated.

You lived, they tell him. Be grateful. You survived. Why are you so unhappy? You lived and others didn't.

I know, Billy thinks, watching the rain slide down the window. He can't remember what rain feels like, anymore. I'm angry about that too.

#rogue fanfic #st #fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #st: billy ahrgrove #stranger things: billy hargrove

[paisley-print]

Chapter Five / Summer

Rating: 18+

Characters: Agent Whiskey x Reader X Ezra

This is a sequel to the MIDNIGHT Series

Rated TV MA. Heavy trigger warning. Infidelity, pregnancy, nausea, feeding tube. 

Note: This one is shorter but it's laying ground work for longer chapters. Enjoy!

Tag List: @just-here-for-the-moment @sherala007 @jediknight122 @pintsizemama @kenbechillin @elegantduckturtle @hearttbreak @tintinn16 @showbuckysomelove @somenerdyuser @kesskirata @littlemisspascal @athalien @spideysimpossiblegirl @littlemisspascal @sheresh0y @pjkimrn @i-ship-it-ironically @fictitious-little-stitious @curiouskeyboard @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @murdersheghostwrote @fictitious-little-stitious  @voteforpedro09 @greeneyedblondie44 @feel-it-on-the-way-home13 @galaxyofmando @kravitzwhore @solemnlyswearss @gooddaykate @sherala007 @aliwritesfic @athalien  @amneris21 @manuymesut @toxicfrankenstein @deadhumourist​@damnyoupedro​ @harriedandharassed​

The lazy days of August continued to slip by, shrouded in their golden light. You tried hard to spend as much time outside as you could once the sun dipped low enough in the sky to cool the rest of the world off. You knew winter was approaching fast, taking the sunlight with it and the notion of which made you irrevocably sad…or perhaps it was simply the passage of time that did so. This year you didn’t look forward to quiet cold nights, where in years past you would have welcomed them.

Therapy was going well, the relationship you and Jack had remained in a purely functional state during the rare times you saw each other. It was best that way. Yet, your world was still not at peace…that ever-present ache of guilt you still harbored towards Ezra never let you rest.

That last conversation you had with him…..the way you insulted him with the sour bite of wine sliding around your tongue. It made you physically shrink into yourself. The feeling got harder to ignore as August slipped away. Stores and shops had already started to display their fall decor, you couldn’t step twenty feet without seeing some pumpkin-laden sign.

You knew you couldn’t do it over the phone, even on the improbable chance he picked up, the apology wouldn’t mean nearly as much. You were ashamed of the way you acted, and you were ashamed of the state of your body.

How foolish you must seem to him now. Alone, knocked up by a man you knew was being unfaithful, then discarded as easy as trash. You had to remind yourself that the reason you were going was not to gain his approval but to right your wrongs. Whatever way he reacts…well that was none of your concern.

You waited until evening, when you knew he would be at home, loaded yourself into the car Jack had fixed for you and drove yourself to the address you had memorized months ago. Driving felt odd after not having done it for so long. You fought back nausea the entire time but managed to keep yourself together long enough to get to his house without any accidents. You had memorized the route to his house months ago, even though you were only there twice. His house was not hard to find, it sat on an offshoot of Main Street, nestled snugly on a corner lot. Two large weeping willows stood swaying silently in the breeze out front.

The sight of the grand Victorian never ceased to amaze you. How one man could endure a lifetime alone in it, you would never know.

You pulled to a stop next to the curb, staring at the house for an embarrassing amount of time. Large drapes blocked the windows but there was light on the inside. Both the living room and the upstairs bedroom emitted a glow that reached out into the front yard.

You felt dizzy and detached from yourself, your legs refusing to move. You even considered driving off but knew if you did you wouldn’t return. Finally, you stepped into action, taking off your seat belt, reaching for the pie sitting snugly on the passenger's seat then stood and shut the door.

You walked up the driveway that led to the front doors of the house and then reached to pull the heavy brass door knocker. Paint chips and rust flaked off with each pull.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

You stepped back a little, reminding yourself to breathe as you heard movement from inside. Your breath ceased altogether upon hearing the heavy metal locking mechanism turning inside the door. Quickly you pulled your hair behind your ear with your free hand and braved a friendly smile.

The door drew open, revealing an expressionless Ezra standing at its threshold. He stared at you in an uncharacteristically quiet manner.

“Hi,” you said quickly, face feeling hot with emotion.

“I-...What are you-”

“I know that it’s  - um  - late. I’m sorry about that, and for not calling before. I just, I know this won't make up for anything I did, but I haven't been able to get our last conversation out of my head. The way I acted towards you….and with….. you were completely inappropriate. I should never have spoken to you the way I did. I think I will regret it for a very long time and I’m sorry….. And I made you a pie- well I didn’t make it, I bought it. I figured, that it would at least make this conversation worth it for you.” You extended the pumpkin pie towards him.

His eyes stayed fixed on you, expression still lacking. “Are you ill?”

You gave him a quizzical look, remembering the tube taped to your cheek. You reached up and touched it. “No, I’m not.”

He stayed silent, you could see he was waiting on a response.

“It’s just morning sickness, but like bad…” you cursed yourself inwardly for how utterly illiterate that sounded. “I’m not going to die or anything.”

His brown eyes shifted downwards, the hoodie you had on concealed your growing figure.

“You're with child?” He asked.

“Um, yes it’s…. Jackson’s….”

When his eyes shifted back to yours you felt a twinge of icy embarrassment fill up the inside of your chest.

“Congratulations,” he said.

You waited, hoping he would say more. He always said more. Why wasn’t he filling this silence with words?

Your eyes were as wide as you stared at him like a deer in headlights. “We’re not together anymore. You were right there was… someone else…”

His shoulders dropped just slightly, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

A voice sounded from inside the house, “Ezra?”

It was unmistakably female, in its high-pitched honey-like tone.

You smiled awkwardly, trying to hide the utter panic you felt inside. “So… um… okay,  I’ll just be on my way.” You jutted the pie at him, forcing him to take it in his hands, then turned to leave.

You could feel his eyes on your back as you descended the short steps of the porch. You stopped, then turned to face him once more.

“I am truly sorry, if there is anything I can do to show that then I will be more than willing to do it… But if there’s not… then I understand. Have a nice night Ezra.”

With that, you turned again and made your way down the driveway, when you got back in your car you could see his door had closed.

#agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey fanfic #ezra prospect fanfic #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you

[diantheia]

Hey, just a little ask— why there's a headcanon about Halt has things for dress/dresses?

Like- i just find it little bit hilarious.

Btw how are you?

-Local Cryptid Buddy

I'm fine, thanks for asking. Just about getting over my cold, just the deep chesty cough really left.

Anyway, Halt's dress kink thing.

I'll preface this by saying, a lot of things/headcanons/ideas I write have some basis in canon. This starts with the Halt's cloak ugc. So, Halt has a cloak, we can say Halt made it, therefore conclude Halt is into textiles and sewing and such.

Frail pet is the first Halt oneshot I wrote, and plot wise I wanted it to have Halt keep a human as a fragile little pet, almost like a porcelain doll. So, Halt puts you/the reader into a dress they made.

The second is Small problem. Two things happened whilst writing that one which is what kinda lead to the whole 'Halt has a thing for dresses'. Firstly, you/reader was shrunk down. When I was writing that, I happened to think to myself: "you know, it's kinda weird how (excluding media that actually explain it) if a person is being shrunk on a molecular level, their clothes shrink too. That's not part of their body! They should remain big!' and that lead to what happened in the fic: you/reader shrink, clothes don't. You're tiny and naked. Secondly, we get to when you/reader is caught by Halt. Halt clearly wouldn't want to keep you naked forever. So, using their textile skills, they make you something simple to wear for the time being. Anyway, brain struck again with: "Halt would arguably go for the simplest design if they intend to get you better stuff to wear later/wanted to make something fast. That's a dress! Think about it, you only really need a tube dress, no sleeves, only have to stitch too ends of a fabric together and boom! Dress! Quick, easy and covers all modesty!" and that's why a dress was made. I realised after that that both my Halt oneshots feature Halt putting you in a dress and was like "Man, I either gotta stop doing that or make it a running joke" Consensus was to make it a running joke, so here we are.

#my fics #All at the edge of a universe doesn't have Halt put you in a dress #Well Halt gifts you an undisclosed clothing article #So it technically could be a dress #But it is vague enough so the reader can choose what they would have preferred in that situation

[anglophiletraveler]

In My Life - Chapter 30

I Love You Just The Way You Are

By Billy Joel

The Weekend Part 1

So here we are a couple weeks into January with our favourite couple, settling into a new routine because of Demelza's schedule at the orchestra and her private lessons. Ross is having a harder time than Demelza is adjusting to the new schedule. He is frustrated because he has some things that he needs to talk to her about. Their time together together during the week is very limited, but they seem to make up for it on the weekends! Thanks again for all of your support, and a big thanks to beta Karen Bockius.

*********************

The holidays are over and the grey January skies have rolled in.  Ross’s cold was much better and he had evaded death’s door thanks to Demelza’s TLC and Dwight’s antibiotics.  Demelza was able to get the grocery store to let her return the Marmite and lima beans after she told them the story of Ross shopping while he was ‘dying’.  

The couple was trying to settle into their new routine, which was easier for Demelza than for Ross.  She had been used to the changes of her schedule at the orchestra depending on if they were in performance or rehearsal mode for new music for concerts and the new album coming up.  When she wasn’t at orchestra, she was either at her private lessons, or she was practising at home in the kitchen so she would be ready for whenever auditions would be held.  Ross hadn’t realised how much Demelza’s schedule would change with the different seasons and performance schedules.  He hadn’t completely adjusted to the changes but he was trying.  Ross even mentioned to Demelza that he was going to have Jinny put Demelza’s schedule on his calendar at work so he can keep track of everything!     All of this meant that Ross and Demelza didn’t see much of each other.  Which also meant that Ross was becoming increasingly frustrated.  He missed their time together, but he also had some things that he needed to find time to talk about, in particular, the issue of children.

Henry usually picked Demelza up for rehearsals since Ross was usually at work.  Henry didn’t mind, because it always gave the two friends a chance to catch up and to go over any changes to the music they were working on. She  usually took the tube on days  she had private lessons which Ross hated.  Every time he brought up the issue of more driving lessons, she would change the subject or growl at him.  But even Demelza could see that it was becoming more and more inevitable, so she secretly started looking at professional driving lessons.  She didn’t realise how expensive it was and that was another stumbling block.  She knew she could go to Ross  and he would pay for it in a heartbeat, but she really didn’t want him to. She thought the summer might be a good time for lessons, so she wouldn’t have to worry about snow. And then there would be the cost of purchasing another vehicle and the  constant upkeep and the insurance!  Thinking about all of that made her head hurt and also made her remember all the reasons why she had never wanted to do it in the first place! 

There was also the issue of Grace’s health. It was always on both of their minds.  Ross made more calls to his parents to keep abreast of her health and doctor appointments.  Her doctor had insisted on one more round of chemo to shrink the tumour further before the surgery.  Grace was opposed but ultimately agreed. She was still insisting on going through with a double mastectomy, so recovery was going to be a long one.  Ross was planning on being there for the surgery whenever it was scheduled.   But with Demelza’s schedule, it was doubtful she would be able to make the trip to Cornwall which was completely understandable. 

Weekends were their time together.  Ross was always trying to educate Demelza on the entire series of Star Wars movies, and Demelza was always trying to educate him on Jane Austen books and movies. They enjoyed trying out new recipes together.  Demelza, laughing at Ross’s goofiness in the kitchen usually ended up in a food fight and Seamus licking up the pieces on the floor.  Weekends also meant sleeping in with lazy mornings of lovemaking that  they both thoroughly enjoyed.  Demelza was becoming more confident and a more active participant with their lovemaking.  She was able to put to words what she wanted and what she didn’t want which aroused Ross even more.  This Saturday morning they happened to be  in one of her favourite positions.  Both of them were laying on their sides, her back to his front. Demelza had thrown one leg over  Ross's leg while he lazily entered deeply inside her. Her moans usually signalled when his fingers found the right spot in front so that she was stimulated in both places at the same time.  The only thing she didn’t like about this position was that she couldn’t always look at  Ross’s face, but he passionately laid kisses on her face, her neck and breast when he could reach them.  The moans that escaped Demelza drove Ross wild.  He loved it when she was uninhibited and let herself go,  He knew that she loved this position and was more than happy to oblige.  He also knew that she liked being on top.  She loved the feeling of being in control of their movements  and who wouldn’t love looking up at  that beautiful sight,  her sitting naked, clearly enjoying herself on top of him.  

After they had both finished, Demelza always curled into Ross and his furry chest, his arms wrapped around his love, as they fell back to sleep.  Just the two of them, locked away from the rest of the world.  

This particular Saturday, the weather was nice, so they decided to take Seamus to the dog park after brunch so they could all stretch their legs.  They loaded up the car with Seamus’s water dish, and ball and headed out.

The nice weather had drawn others out too. The park was filled with quite a few families of all shapes and sizes having fun.  Seamus didn’t waste any time taking off once he was off the leash.  “Look at him go!” Demelza laughed.  “It doesn’t seem to be muddy, do you want to walk?” Ross asked.  “Sure, why not,” Demelza took Ross’s hand and started walking.

There was a  quiet comfortable silence while they walked  and watched Seamus running around, playing with the other dogs. Seamus always enjoyed the company of other dogs.  Ross noticed a couple of families with younger kids in the park. There was a slide, a swing set and other things for the kids to play on. Ross loved watching the kids playing and climbing all over the equipment while  the dogs ran and chased each other to exhaustion. Maybe this was a good way to start the dialogue? Ross thought.  

“Those kids look like they’re having fun, don’t they?” Ross said.

“Yeah, it’s nice that they have plenty of  equipment here for the kids to play on,” Demelza answered back.  “It kind of kills two birds with one stone doesn’t it.”

“Yes it does.”  Ross could feel his heart rate speed up a little.  “Demelza, have you ever thought about having kids?”

Demelza shrugged her shoulders, “Sure I’ve thought about it, ya know, like when I went on the pill.”

Ross nodded his head in agreement.  He could understand that.  “Have you thought about ever going off the pill?  You know, in the… future?”

Ross wasn’t sure if he phrased that right.  He was starting to feel nervous.

“Going off of it?  You mean on purpose?” Demelza asked, her voice going up higher in pitch.

“Well yeah, ya know to start a family.” Ross cleared his throat.  He was trying to sound casual about it, but he heard his voice going up higher as well.

“Ohhhh I see,” Demelza felt the light bulb going off in her head. She sighed.  She found a bench for them to sit on.  “So I take it that you’re wondering if I want to have children or not.”

Ross gave her a weak smile, “You caught me.  Sorry, I was trying to find a casual way to bring it up.  It’s just not something that we’ve ever really talked about.  I’m sorry if I upset you.”  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“I’m not upset.  You’re right, we haven’t talked about it.  And I do appreciate you bringing it up.  The thing is Ross, I honestly don’t know how I feel about having children.”  She tried to look him in the eye but it was hard.  “I know that’s not what you wanted to hear, but it’s the truth.  I kinda feel like I’ve already been a mother, and I’m not sure I can go through that again.” Demelza was trying not to cry.

“Demelza, love, you do know it wouldn’t be like that with me don’t you?  There’s no way I would beat you or my, our, children like your da did.  I just wouldn’t do that, nor would I be drunk all of the time.  And I highly doubt that we would have seven kids.”

She wiped her tears and shook her head, “I do.  I do know that in my head, but my heart is terrified, Ross.  And I can tell that you would be such a good father and help out and all.”  She looked up to see if anyone was watching them, and she took a deep breath.  “But it’s also, I feel like my life has just really started.  I know that I’ve been living on me own at uni and with Carolyn and the guys.  But now with you, it’s been so wonderful, Ross.  I know sometimes I act like a scared rabbit, but I really do love living with you and slowly the house is starting to feel like my home too.  And things are going well with the orchestra, I just need to keep myself focused on me own rehearsing and not let that go.  I know you can’t tell the difference in me playin, but I can, and if I can, then the maestro can, so I can’t rest on me laurels.  Ross, I’m not ready to give up playing in the orchestra. I want to play in the orchestra and be a part of it for a long time.  You probably think I’m being selfish.”

Seamus came over for some attention so Ross threw the ball back and forth with him for a while, so that Demelza could get herself together.  He noticed Demelza looking at the children playing.

“I don’t think you’re being selfish at all.  I love you Demelza, and I love living with you.  I hope you know that you can do anything you want to do to the house to help make it feel like it’s your home.  You can paint or change whatever.  I don’t mind.   I’ve been half way thinking lately that we need to find a bigger place anyway.  You need a proper room to practise in, not just some corner or the kitchen.  I would like a bigger office.  Seamus needs a bigger garden to run around in.”  He turned around and took Demelza’s hand.

Ross continued, “My love, I would never, ever ask you to give up your career.  I know how important it is to you.  You’ve worked hard for it and I totally get that. I’m so proud of you up on that stage!   We could always arrange for childcare just like other couples do.  I won’t deny that I’ve always wanted children.  I’ve always imagined taking them to Nampara on holidays, running around the beach and swimming in the cove.  But as much as I want kids, I don’t want to lose you more.”  Now Ross had the lump in his throat.  “I’ve just found this happiness with you that I’ve been looking for, and I can’t stand the thought of losing you.  So if you were to say that you never want children, then I would just live with that and enjoy our life together until I die first.”

“Oh Ross!  Could you though?  Could you ‘just live with it’?”

“Yes, Demelza, I could.  We can have a very full life together.”

Demelza was crying again and hugged him.  Seamus was barking at his parents.  Ross pulled away from Demelza and wiped her tears away with his thumbs.  “C’mon love.  I think Seamus is ready for a nap.  Let’s go home.”  

“Can we stop for ice cream on the way?” Demelza asked.

This made Ross smile, “Of course, my ice cream fiend!”  He gave her a kiss on her cold lips.

************************

Caroline and Dwight had invited Ross and Demelza to join them that evening to go out to dinner.  But after their morning out at the dog park, the couple was still very much in the mood to be alone, so they asked if they could meet Sunday night, to which they obliged.  For supper, Ross fixed quesadillas and Demelza worked out a salad for the two of them.  Demelza let Ross pick out what they were going to watch while they ate supper on the sofa.  She even told him he could put on a Star Wars movie if he wanted!  

“Mmm Ross!  This quesadilla is delicious!  Good job mate!”

“Why thank you.  I thought Mexican sounded good for a change.  And your salad is perfectly delectable!” Ross answered back.  They both chuckled at his choice of words.

“You know Ross, I was kind of surprised this morning when you mentioned getting a bigger place for us.  I thought you loved this place.”

Ross finished what he was chewing and wiped his mouth.  “I do love it.  I just think having more space would be nice, don’t you? And it would be fun to pick out something together, don’t you think?”

The more Ross talked, the more he started to wonder if he was putting the cart before the horse. His mind was starting to panic now.   Should I have asked her to marry me first before talking about a bigger place?  She didn’t really give me a solid answer about children, but on the other hand, I also committed myself to being with her even if she didn’t want children.  Is that a life that I could really live with?  A life without children?  It’s not like I would be having nieces and nephews around to spoil.  I know mum and da would love grandchildren. But is it worth losing Demelza over?    All of a sudden he realised that Demelza was talking to him.

“Ross did you hear me?”

“Hmm, I’m sorry, what?”

Demelza smiled at him, “Where did you go just then? What I said was, we weren’t really in a hurry to move right now.  We have time to think about it.  It’s a big step and we should think about it carefully.  Don’t you agree?”

“Yes.  Yes you’re right.  Of course you’re right.  You’re the more sensible of the two of us.  I’ve already got the for sale sign put out!”  Oh thank God I was able to back up a little bit.  Ross, you twat, think first before you open your mouth!

“Ross, I realise that I didn’t answer your question earlier about children.  I didn’t mean to sound wishy washy about it.  I guess that I’ve never really imagined myself having my own children, but that doesn’t mean that I’m saying that I don’t want to have them.  You know that I’ve only had one long term relationship, and that didn’t turn out very well.  And we never talked about kids either.  After Hugh, I wasn’t sure that I would find someone that I would want to have kids with.  What about you?  I’m sure that you thought you would have children with Elizabeth, but what about any of the other women you dated after her?”

Ross took both of Demelza’s hands into his, “That’s true, I did think that Elizabeth and I would have children.  But there wasn’t anyone after her that I would even come close to having children with, until I met you.”  He lowered his head and kissed her hands. 

“You’re so sweet Ross.  I promise that I’ll give it some more thought.”

Ross smiled at her, “Thank you for saying that.  And like you said, no rush.”  Ross leaned over and kissed her forehead.  “Let’s go upstairs and watch Star Wars, yeah?”

“Oh Ross no, enough of the Star Wars!”

He turned off the telly downstairs and grabbed Demelza’s hand and led her upstairs.

#aidan turner #modernpoldark #poldark #ross poldark #work in progress #six sentence sunday #demelza carne #eleanor tomlinson #demelza poldark

[rescue-ram]

this is like 520 words but for the commentary ask:

"He was told to 'be mean', not tell you he hopes you commit suicide," Margaret said.

"That's not what I said," BJ said, annoyed.

"Do you really not hear the difference between what we said and what you did?" Margaret asked.

"He didn't really mean it," Hawkeye said.

"Of course not," BJ said, "I never would've said any of that outside of the game, Hawk knows that."

"Yeah, and he doesn't actually hate me," Hawkeye said.

"Nope," BJ said.

"That's how I know you love me," Hawkeye said, "You know my buttons better than anyone. It was super personal."

"I'm glad it was good for you too," BJ said wryly. He grabbed the first aid kit and guided Hawkeye to loop an arm around his neck while BJ hooked his arms behind Hawkeye's knees and the small of his back. He picked him up in a fireman's carry, tugging him along to his cot. It creaked heavily when BJ sat down on it, and Hawkeye curled up, clinging tighter. He was being unusually clingy, even for him, but it wasn't annoying- it felt a bit like Hawkeye had earned the attention, and BJ didn't even resent the owing. He pulled off his right glove with his teeth and fumbled with the first aid kit. He found a tube of lotion- in the dark he couldn't see what kind, and squirted some on his hand, sticking it down the back of Hawkeye's pants, feeling the other man jolt and squirm at the cold touch soothing his hurt. "You forgive me, right Hawkeye?"

"Always," Hawkeye said, clinging tighter and shaking a little.

"You'll notice he hasn't said sorry," Charles said.

"Neither have you," BJ retorted snippily, wiping his hand on Hawkeye's pant leg.

"It's fine," Hawkeye said, "There's nothing to apologize for."

"That's right," BJ said in his best cheer-up voice, "We won!"

"TrapHawk HotFerret is all tied up, two to two," Hawkeye said, burrowing his face into BJ's shoulder.

"The way I see it, BeejHawk CharMargaret is one nil in our favor," BJ said. "You and me are the undefeated champions- the best."

Hawkeye hummed, sleepy and drunk. BJ was starting to feel that way himself, and wondered if it would be better to roll Hawkeye onto the cot before or after he fell asleep.

"Hey Hawk- tomorrow, let's make our new flag, and some new cards too. For us."

"You want to play again?" Charles asked, shocked.

BJ glared at him. "Why not? It was fun, wasn't it?"

BJ couldn't parse the look Margaret and Charles gave them as they grabbed the lantern, retreating back to Charles side of the tent and the predictability of chess. Hawkeye's breathing was heavy against his chest- snoring, maybe, or else his nose was stuffed up. BJ thought about letting him go, but chose to cling to Hawkeye a little longer. He pressed his face close to Hawkeye and for a few minutes let the world shrink to this single point- the heavy burden of Hawkeye's love, weighing him down, his too large frame spilling out of BJ's grip, and the warm and all-consuming wave of his attention and forgiveness.

Aah, yay I get to talk about this crazy fic- my first dip into the magic of the id vortex :3c Thank you for the ask ❤️

Long answer under the cut

"He was told to 'be mean', not tell you he hopes you commit suicide," Margaret said.

Margaret cutting through the bullshit, as is her way

"That's not what I said," BJ said, annoyed.

Aaaand BJ being a bit pedantic- not wrong, because he didn't say that, but also not addressing the real point- a little mental elision he doesn't let himself be fully conscious of, just annoyed at Margaret for reminding him of it

"Do you really not hear the difference between what we said and what you did?" Margaret asked.

"He didn't really mean it," Hawkeye said.

"Of course not," BJ said, "I never would've said any of that outside of the game, Hawk knows that."

The subtle difference between "He didn't mean it" and "I wouldn't normally say it out loud"- because he did mean it, on some level, but he normally wouldn't let himself think about his resentment. He and Hawkeye collaborating to rebuild the little invisible wall of denial that lets them build a relationship they need to stay sane.

"Yeah, and he doesn't actually hate me," Hawkeye said.

"Nope," BJ said.

"That's how I know you love me," Hawkeye said, "You know my buttons better than anyone. It was super personal."

"I'm glad it was good for you too," BJ said wryly.

Hawkeye engaging in some mind games to turn "I hate you" into "I love you" and BJ encouraging him- but also critically not actually saying "I love you". The final challenge hinged on "intimate violence"- BJ couldn't have hurt Hawkeye if he didn't know how important their relationship was to him, to both of them, and by twisting it around and screaming out all of his resentments he's able to tear them both open- but they can't actually live like that, so now they have to pretend it didn't happen. If he apologizes he acknowledges the wound is there, and by pretending it was all in good fun- "I'm glad it was good for you too"- they can both pretend they aren't hurt.

He grabbed the first aid kit and guided Hawkeye to loop an arm around his neck while BJ hooked his arms behind Hawkeye's knees and the small of his back. He picked him up in a fireman's carry, tugging him along to his cot. It creaked heavily when BJ sat down on it, and Hawkeye curled up, clinging tighter. He was being unusually clingy, even for him, but it wasn't annoying- it felt a bit like Hawkeye had earned the attention, and BJ didn't even resent the owing. He pulled off his right glove with his teeth and fumbled with the first aid kit. He found a tube of lotion- in the dark he couldn't see what kind, and squirted some on his hand, sticking it down the back of Hawkeye's pants, feeling the other man jolt and squirm at the cold touch soothing his hurt. "You forgive me, right Hawkeye?"

"Always," Hawkeye said, clinging tighter and shaking a little.

Little an aftercare, with an uncomfortable edge of sexuality. Hawkeye needs reassurance BJ cares about him, and BJ needs to be the strong one- he failed 2 out of 4 challenges and knows Hawkeye sheltered him on the last one, which is niggling his insecurities about being the second banana.

"You'll notice he hasn't said sorry," Charles said.

"Neither have you," BJ retorted snippily, wiping his hand on Hawkeye's pant leg.

"It's fine," Hawkeye said, "There's nothing to apologize for."

"That's right," BJ said in his best cheer-up voice, "We won!"

Denial denial denial, and Charles being "Oh what the fuck you two" and a little more disturbed by their intimacy afterwards than by BJ's outburst.

"TrapHawk HotFerret is all tied up, two to two," Hawkeye said, burrowing his face into BJ's shoulder.

"The way I see it, BeejHawk CharMargaret is one nil in our favor," BJ said. "You and me are the undefeated champions- the best."

This is kind of key to BJ's unhingedness in the fic, and honestly part of how I usually write him- he was the protagonist in his life, but now he's the deuteragonist. His story starts in Welcome to Korea, but that's the "middle" of Hawkeye's story. No one really rubs his face in it, but he knows there's someone else he's being compared to, and it drives him crazy. I kind of imagine him to have been a "golden boy" growing up, while Hawkeye was more troubled. He reframes the game to center their relationship, and Hawkeye lets him.

Hawkeye hummed, sleepy and drunk. BJ was starting to feel that way himself, and wondered if it would be better to roll Hawkeye onto the cot before or after he fell asleep.

"Hey Hawk- tomorrow, let's make our new flag, and some new cards too. For us."

"You want to play again?" Charles asked, shocked.

BJ glared at him. "Why not? It was fun, wasn't it?"

And the denial is complete- he's blocking out how uncomfortable he was the whole time and proposing to completely erase the past- now it's just him and Hawkeye. Hawkeye doesn't actually respond one way or another, but is just with him. BJ is tempted to separate from him, to step back from comforting him, being the one who is clung to rather than the one clinging, but doesn't.

BJ couldn't parse the look Margaret and Charles gave them as they grabbed the lantern, retreating back to Charles side of the tent and the predictability of chess. Hawkeye's breathing was heavy against his chest- snoring, maybe, or else his nose was stuffed up.

Little an ambiguity if Hawkeye is resting or trying not to cry.

BJ thought about letting him go, but chose to cling to Hawkeye a little longer. He pressed his face close to Hawkeye and for a few minutes let the world shrink to this single point- the heavy burden of Hawkeye's love, weighing him down, his too large frame spilling out of BJ's grip, and the warm and all-consuming wave of his attention and forgiveness.

Hawkeye is too much for him, but in this moment BJ has all of him. Hawkeye has been worn down enough that he isn't bursting out of his seams, stealing the limelight, showing off- he's just holding onto BJ, trying to comfort him as much as he's comforting himself. It's only a few minutes, this moment will end, but for the moment BJ finally feels secure, and is relieved to have all of Hawkeye's attention, and doesn't resent that he isn't too much for Hawkeye- that Hawkeye can hold him more easily than he can hold him.

(also one more director's commentary note on this fic I wanted to mention... Leetol secret about the very first pass of the fic. In the scene that starts the final act of the fic, Margaret and Hawkeye are arguing about who won the final challenge of a previous game- Trapper and Hawkeye had gotten a card just labeled "eat", and it's left ambiguous what Margaret and Frank made Hawkeye eat but it was something disgusting that made him puke. In the very first pass at that scene, I had the card read "Eat shit", which I thought was funny, but then on my second pass I decided that was too gross and invited too much speculation on how exactly that would play out, so I changed it to be more ambiguous, and let the reader fill in the blank to their comfort level XD)

#thank you for the ask ❤️❤️❤️❤️