#her snarky asides are delightful

[e-louise-bates]

She was not a woman of many words; for, unlike people in general, she proportioned them to the number of her ideas

Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austen

This has the same feel as Bilbo Baggins's "I don't know half of you half so well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve."

#jane austen #sense and sensibility #I'd almost forgotten how strong her narrative voice is in this one #her snarky asides are delightful #though I am somewhat surprised this time around to find myself occasionally sympathizing with marianne #and wanting elinor to allow herself to show a little emotion once in a while #who knows #perhaps marianne would be less driven by her emotions if elinor weren't so composed all the time

[marc-spectorr]

lessons in touch // part 1

ˣ pairing: steven grant x reader

ˣ summary: an inexperienced steven turns to you, his best friend, for advice ahead of a date. you happily agree to give him a few pointers, including a quick guide on how to kiss. but what starts out as an innocent favor ends up unearthing feelings that steven has buried for so long, complicating things more as his lessons in touch with you unexpectedly continue.

ˣ warnings: 5.8k wc. mentions of sex. fluff/angst.

ˣ a/n: this is my first full-length fic in forever so pls be gentle with me here ;-; this will be a series with smut in later chapters, though i cant promise frequent updates lolol. still, i hope you enjoy!

- ☾-

Steven is having an exceptional morning.

He’d surprisingly woken up fully rested, had enough time to pour himself a bowl of cereal for breakfast, and caught the 8:30 bus to work without much hassle. There was even a seat available for Steven once he boarded. However, he ended up letting an elderly woman sit there after she hopped on at the next stop.

His good deed was rewarded when she handed him a piece of his favorite toffee. Although accepting candy from strangers isn’t always the best thing to do, he appreciated the lovely gesture anyhow.

It didn’t halt there, though. Much to his delight, Steven was informed that Donna would be gone for the next several days. Something about coming down with a very nasty cold over the weekend. Sure, he’s decent enough to wish his infuriating manager to get better soon. Still, her absence means that he could work in utter peace in the meantime, which is a rarity in itself.

For now, there would be no snarky remarks. No threats to shove him into a sarcophagus. No, “Stevie, stop annoying the customers and start selling to them,” or “Stevie, you bumbling idiot, why can’t you do your job right?”

God, he really hated that name. Stevie. What was so difficult for Donna to call him by his actual name?

But besides the point, everything was going splendidly well. It wasn’t too busy at the museum on this cloudy Monday. There wasn’t much to do aside from checking out at the register and tidying up the merchandise displayed ever so often.

At one point, a little boy approached Steven as he rearranged the Tawaret plushies in a neat, organized pyramid shape. The child had shown quite an interest in them, and Steven had been more than happy to introduce the stuffed toy of the hippo goddess to him.

Steven loved this unofficial part of his job, sharing tidbits of history to those willing to listen, young or old. He believes that he’d be a fantastic tour guide; he’s more than qualified for it. Perhaps one day, it’ll happen.

Perhaps, perhaps.

Noon arrives in a blink of an eye, and Steven steps out of the gift shop area in time for his lunch break. He heads to the break room on the second floor with a pep in each step. Smiling and greeting each person that he comes across, not minding if they choose to ignore him. He was in a great mood, enthusiastic and eager more than usual. Today is turning out to be such an easy shift on what’s already a wonderful day.

Not to mention how excited Steven is for the dinner he has with Dylan later that evening. She’s a total sweetheart, one of the few genuinely nice people he works with. Every time Dylan was around, she’d often stop by to say hi to him, even if she was rushing to get her tour started. He doesn’t recall the very moment he asked her out; his memory is a little spotty as of late, but did it really matter? Steven was finally going on a date after what seemed like forever, and he was planning on making it as perfect as it could be.

Rounding the corner to where the employee lounge is, Steven’s ears suddenly perk up upon catching his name through the slightly ajar door. Instantly, he recognizes one of the voices coming from inside— Dylan’s.

A part of him didn’t want to stand there and eavesdrop, but it piqued his curiosity. So he loiters in the hallway, listening to the muffled conversation in the other room.

“A date? With Steven? Steven Grant from the gift shop? Him?” The other woman chatting with Dylan asked almost incredulously. Steven is certain that it’s Leslie, a seasoned tour guide who he isn’t particularly fond of, considering how frequently she talks about people behind their back. And he is her latest topic of conversation, as it would appear.

“Yeah,” he overhears Dylan’s reply, and there’s a softness to her voice. One that made Steven’s heartbeat flutter. “He asked me out to dinner a couple of days ago, and I always thought he was cute, so I said yes.”

A demeaning chuckle erupts from Leslie, and Steven rolls his eyes. “Huh, good luck with him, I guess.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Steven shifts closer to the entrance, careful to remain unseen by pressing himself against the wall.

“Oh, you know. Steven is… how should I say this— he just strikes me as the inexperienced type, if you get what I’m trying to say.”

Inexperienced? Hearing that causes him to stiffen, his stomach twisting into a tight knot. It’s like a punch to the gut, a sensation he couldn’t easily shake off.

“Really?” There’s a mixture of disbelief in Dylan’s tone. “I mean, I don’t think that should be an issue.”

“Maybe, but come on, Dylan. Shall I go through your history of exes and recount to you the one common thread between them all, which was how they made your sex life more thrilling? As a friend, I’m only giving you a heads up. Because to me, Steven Grant has probably never even kissed a soul in his life, much less slept with one.”

The last bit stings the most. It isn’t true that Steven was a virgin or had yet to have his first kiss. He wasn’t wholly celibate, but it’d been many, many years since anything of that sort had happened.

Certainly, he remembers his first. They say you never forget your firsts, and that was a time in his life that will last in his memories forever, though not for the good reasons as one would expect.

His first kiss with his first girlfriend was understandably nerve-wracking. Awkward and hesitant, but for 20-year-old Steven, it was normal. First kisses were supposed to be that way. Yet from what he can recall, things did not get better for him, unfortunately.

Barely kissing him after that, he’d been pressured by her to have sex. It’s not that Steven didn’t want to, but he wasn’t ready. That it was still too early in their relationship to do so. Not wishing to upset her, however, he reluctantly agreed after her constant badgering.

It was only then did Steven realized the truth: that despite thinking he loved her, she only lusted for him. Took advantage of his vulnerability and robbed him of something special and intimate. He’d never felt so used.

And if that weren’t bad enough, the woman broke up with him soon after he lost his virginity to her. Giving Steven the most unoriginal excuse in the world— “it’s not you, it’s me.”

Deep down, Steven knew it was him. It’s always him. The whole experience and its aftermath have had an effect on him, lasting up to now. Though he yearns to be with someone, to find unconditional love one day, it hasn’t been easy, especially in this day and age when the hook-up culture is prevalent. Lots of people quickly get turned off if you aren’t an expert in bed, and it’s why Steven has felt so deterred from the dating scene, among other reasons that he doesn’t want to touch on just yet.

So when he found out that he had a date with Dylan, he was less fraught about it. Simply because Steven knows her, and she’d always been friendly with him. He thought that his lack of intimate experience in his late thirties wouldn’t matter to her. That she’d be different, that she’d understand and would be okay with it.

Now? Steven isn’t too sure.

And frankly, he’s crestfallen to learn that he has been possibly wrong about her all this time.

Losing his appetite entirely, Steven dejectedly saunters away from the area, tossing the cold sandwich he packed this morning into a nearby rubbish bin. He didn’t wait long enough to hear Dylan’s response. Not that he wanted to, assuming that what she’ll say next would crush his spirits further.

And just like that, his bright and jolly demeanor is washed away by his fears and his insecurities— his thoughts of not being good enough for anyone.

The remainder of his shift goes by uneventfully. Steven’s interactions with the guests have become dry and lackluster. For the first time since clocking in, he was staring at the clock and counting the minutes down until he could punch out.

He’d receive a text from Dylan a half an hour before the museum closed, not even bothering to ask him in person if they’re still on for tonight. To be polite, Steven replies, “yes,” however. Thinking it would be rude to cancel at the last minute.

Still, he already knows that his heart wouldn’t be fully into it.

Just one dinner, and don’t expect more, he convinces himself as he closes up shop for the night. He tells himself again as he boards the bus back home. Once more as he stands there in the middle of the packed bus, holding onto a handgrip while staring at the darkening horizon passing by. Steven says it a final time as he gets off at the stop across his flat, pushing past the sea of passersby crowding the street until he finally reaches the front door.

It’s quiet the moment he steps inside the building, the door shutting behind him with a soft click. Steven lingers by the entryway for some time; glassy eyes slide shut with his head knocked back against the metal frame as he lets out a long exhale from his nostrils.

“Bad day, I take it?”

Steven slowly blinks his eyes open, and it’s as if the ache in his chest swiftly settles at the sound of your voice. He allows a small smile to flicker on his face when he spots you standing by the mailboxes with several letters in hand and balancing a package on your hip.

Truth be told, you never fail to make him smile. That’s why you’re his favorite person in the world, followed by his mother and Gus, of course.

“Yeah, you can say that,” Steven mumbles lukewarm before striding across the foyer and easing your struggle by carrying the box for you. “Let me get this for you, darling.”

“Thanks, Steven,” you return, your gaze never leaving his. A hand gently closes around Steven’s bicep, then a soft squeeze in reassurance. “Seriously, though. Is everything okay? What happened at work?”

He doesn’t answer your question immediately. Instead, Steven silently strolls to the lift down the hall. He takes his time searching for the right words to explain his predicament. Not that he’s afraid of sharing details so personal— not when you and he have been close friends since you moved into the studio next door to him.

Best friends, you would call yourselves, as a matter of fact. Two inseparable peas in a pod. Steven could always count on you to have his back; he could tell you any secrets he has buried deep within, and he wouldn’t worry about you betraying his trust.

Steven has never had this— has never had someone like you in his life. A friend, a confidante. Nobody has ever been as kind and caring to Steven as you are. Before he met you, he thought people like you didn’t exist. Or perhaps they do, but he’s one of the very few unlucky ones that don’t get the pleasure of knowing someone with a tender heart similar to yours.

Fate is something Steven’s unsure of whether or not it is real. But if it were, he’d thank the universe and beyond for letting him cross paths with you.

“It’s uh— nothing. No need to worry, love,” he dismisses, offering up a smile in an attempt to persuade you to drop the subject.

Steven starts heading towards the elevator, and you trail closely behind, shaking your head. “Hey, don’t lie to me. I know you, Steven. I know you well enough to know that something’s clearly wrong. I’m not going to let you sulk around and continue having a shitty day. What kind of a friend would I be? So, spill. Please? Pretty please?”

You bat your eyes at him, and he swears you’re doing that on purpose. Steven knows you well enough to know that you could get anything you want from him just by fluttering those beautiful eyes of yours. You have him wrapped around your finger, making it nearly impossible for him to deny you right then and there.

Honestly, he could use some advice from you. Maybe a laugh or two to cheer him up. You’re always so good with that. Too good that it’s almost magical. You always know exactly what to say to make him feel incredibly happy, even after suffering a quote-on-quote, shitty day.

A light ding of the bell and the automatic doors of the lift part open, the two of you shuffling inside wordlessly, and Steven hits the last number that’ll send you both to your shared floor.

On the ride up, that’s when he explains it all. The date with Dylan, the conversation he had overheard in the break room, and the fact that he’s still going out tonight. By the time you got to your flat, he had miserably told you everything, including his lack of experience.

“And, so that’s mainly it. Apologies for boring you with my situation; I must sound like a fool for even bringing this up—”

“Steven,” you interject before he can go on with his rambling. “Don’t be sorry. I-I can’t believe you never told me about this before.”

“You never asked,” Steven shrugs, his gaze falling to the floor below but returning to meet yours when you slip a warm hand into his. “Also, I… I was a bit too embarrassed to admit it if I have to be honest. I never found the right partner, and I didn’t want to go out there to find the first stranger who’s attracted to me and willing to— you know…”

He need not explain any further. Judging by the look of sorrow etched in your features, you quickly caught on to what he meant.

A soft sigh escapes your lips, and Steven’s sure he sees tears forming in the corner of your eyes. It’s not that you pitied him. You truly care for him and learning that his firsts have soured most of the positive feelings attached to physical intimacy shatters your heart.

“Hey, that’s nothing to be ashamed of, really. I promise you, you’re not the only person in the world who’s not eager to jump into bed with just anyone. Not everyone’s so casual about sex.”

Steven gives you a small wry smile, something that doesn’t reach his eyes.

As opposed to him, you were usually an open book when it comes to sex. He’s not unaware of your escapades. He’s either known about them directly from you or when he awkwardly runs into your one-night stands as they exit from your flat in the early morning hours.

Needless to say, he never judges you for this. You have your needs, just like he has his. The only difference is that you go out and seek a remedy while he takes care of things with his hand, albeit frustratingly.

“Hey, it’s endearing that you prefer to take things slow. God, I wish there were other men like you out there,” you chuckle lightly at the end, briefly cupping his cheek into your palm. “So, are you still going on that date?”

He hums meekly as the warmth of your hand leaves him. “I-I don’t know, should I? I confirmed with Dylan because I felt terrible if I backed out at the last minute.”

“Look, from what you told me, I think Dylan is a sweet lady, and she didn’t say anything bad about you. Plus, you left before she could respond. You don’t know if she agreed with Leslie or not, but my bet is that she didn’t.”

A pause. Steven ponders over it for a moment, mulling the possibility of you being right. In which case, in all the years he has known you, you’re almost always right. It’s pretty scary at times how accurate your intuition could be. Call it a superpower or a sixth sense, but whatever your gut tells you, he would usually believe it too.

“Okay,” Steven eventually nods with a breath, beginning to feel slightly enthused with the dinner this evening. “Maybe I overreacted a bit, yeah?”

“No, you’re good. It’s all good, just a big misunderstanding,” you assure him softly, and it’s all he needs to hear from you. “Alright, let me set my stuff down inside, and I’ll help you get ready for tonight. If I’m not mistaken, this is your first date in quite some time?”

His voice grows quiet once more. “Mmhmm, yep. First date in what— a year, perhaps? I’m not even sure I have fancy enough clothes to wear in an upscale restaurant. I should have thought of that way ahead, damn it.”

“Come on, now. I’m sure we can find something in your closet! How much time do we have?”

Steven glances at the watch hugging his wrist. “We’ve got around an hour and a half.”

“Perfect,” you beam brightly at him. “That’s enough time to make you look absolutely irresistible.”

- ☾-

After two or three laborious attempts, Steven’s neck-tie is still crooked. His blue dress shirt, blazer, and trousers are all wrinkly and smell like mothballs from being stored away for the longest time. The longer he had those clothes on, the more he thought how ridiculous he looked.

It took you and him nearly thirty minutes to go through his entire wardrobe, and this is the best outfit you could put together at a moment’s notice. The reflection in the mirror doesn’t lie, and bloody hell, this is starting to become a disaster. He isn’t even out of the door yet!

Maybe he should cancel now before his appearance is what makes him a fool out of himself.

“Steven? Are you done changing in there?” He hears you checking on him from outside of the bathroom. “Hellooo?”

An amused chortle tumbles out of Steven’s mouth. “Patience is a virtue, darling. But I’m done, coming out now…”

Through his observations, there are merely a handful of things that leave you speechless. One of which is the stars. 

He particularly remembers one late night when you came over to his flat, excitingly taking him by the hand and dragging him to the nearest open window from the door.

For what seemed like seconds passing into hours, you both gazed in wondrous awe at the heavenly sight above. Trillions of white sparkling diamonds dot the inky canvas of the London sky. It was beautiful, so beautiful and breathtaking, and not a sound fell from your lips throughout the viewing. You had been too absorbed, too fascinated with the glittering stars, to utter a single word.

That very same awestruck face you made could be compared to how you’re staring at Steven right now, and he feels a gentle warmth spreading over his cheeks. The admiration gleaming in your eyes and the delicate curl of your lips makes his heart soar and his stomach light with butterflies. No one has ever looked at him the way, nothing even remotely close to it.

Steven thinks he heard the slight hitch in your throat, but before he could put a meaning to it, your lips were parting to speak.

“Whew… Dylan’s one lucky gal,” you whistle, flustering him even further. “Here, let me…”

He draws in a sharp intake of air as your nimble fingers straighten his collar and his tie, brows furrowing in deep concentration. Steven hopes you don’t notice how deeply fixated his eyes are on you or how he’s swallowing hard at the proximity of your bodies. You’re standing near enough for him to smell your lingering perfume, light and sweet with a subtle hint of floral notes.

Thoughtlessly, he licks his drying lips and then exhales your name in a soft breath, catching the glimmer in your eyes as your gaze flickers up to his.

Steven’s heart thrums wildly in the cage of his ribs, his mind locked in a daze, unable to think clearly of anything else besides you. Your bright smile, your intoxicating laugh, your gentle touch. The way you sweetly say his name and the way you make him happy without even trying.

How you’re the only person in his life that understands him, treats him like he’s worth every bit of kindness you’ve shown.

You, it’s always been you. From the moment you said “hello” to him and introduced yourself with the warmest of smiles, it has always been you. 

You, the only one he has ever loved since the first woman who’d broken his heart— and the only one who has ever loved him back, though not in the way he dreamt of.

Falling for you, falling in love with you, is the one thing Steven has never told you before. The sole secret that may never get to see the light of day. Despite how close the two of you have grown, you’d never shown interest in him beyond friendship. Your love for him is strictly platonic, or at least, that’s what he’s led to believe.

Also, it’s not like Steven has any chance with you. He’s seen the men you’ve dated, the type you’re attracted to, and he’s nothing like them. Far from it, in actuality. He’s no match for them; you’re simply way out of his league.

So Steven didn’t dare to risk it— this perfect relationship you and he already have with each other.

He didn’t dare to risk losing you.

Therefore, he pushes these feelings aside, locks them away in the furthest depths of his mind, and pretends that they never existed, that he never entertained the thought. 

Yet, it doesn’t mean it hurts less for Steven, seeing you in the arms of others, smiling in a way that makes his heart pang with disappointment. It’s a blissful agony, this pain that comes more often than it goes, and all he could do was bear the gnawing at his soul, hoping that he wouldn’t crack.

“You okay, Steven?” your honeyed voice lures him out of musings, and he stutters out a breath when you smooth your hands over his blazer.

“Y-Yeah,” he murmurs feebly. “I’m okay, just… nervous, I think. Haven’t gone on a date in a while, and I’m afraid I’ll screw things up.”

It isn’t a total lie that Steven tells you, but rather half the truth. Yes, he’s a little anxious about tonight, but most of his jitteriness is because of all these sudden thoughts he has of you. It’s as if your touch alone has brought back the sensations he has suppressed over the years. He tries to push them to the back of his head, ignoring how his heart is longing for you and only you.

It’s easier said than done.

“No, don’t say that. You’re not going to mess this up. Wanna know how I’m sure of that?” For a beat, you step aside to wet your hands at the sink behind him, returning to stand in front of him soon after to style his unruly dark curls. “Because you’re you, Steven. You’re the sweetest, smartest, and kindest man I’ve ever met. I don’t doubt for even a second that you’ll charm the hell out of Dylan so much; she’s going to want a second date right after tonight.”

Grinning, you slowly urge Steven to turn around so he can look at himself in the mirror. “That guy right there? He’s one of a kind. Every man and woman on this planet would be begging to have a chance with him, and I really hope you can see that.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, he stops himself from asking the question on the tip of his tongue.

What about you? Would you be begging for a chance to be with him too?

“Thank you,” Steven ultimately sighs, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. “I– uh, I truly appreciate your help.”

“Anytime, Steven,” you whisper, kissing him softly on the cheek. “I want you to find happiness and love out there. You deserve it more than anyone.”

He deserves it.

He knows he does.

He craves it more than anything— to be happy and to be loved.

Solely by you.

Steven fidgets with his hands, his gaze drifting to the leather shoes he wears. No, it can’t be you. It won’t be you. No matter how much he wants it to be you, he must fully accept that it would likely never happen.

And to do that, he needs to start here. Right now, as his dinner with Dylan fast approaches.

But there still lies a problem.

“You’re overthinking again,” comes your remark, brows knitting a frown seeing the tension marring his face. “Talk to me, Steven. What’s on your mind?”

“Do you honestly think that me being so… inexperienced is something that she won’t mind at all? I only ask because, well— I’ve never even kissed anyone in almost… hell, I lost count of how long it’s been. Wait— should I kiss her at the end of the night?”

An interval of silence passes by before you reply to his query. “No, I don’t believe she won’t mind that. And to answer your other question, if the moment is right, go for it. But if not, or maybe you’re not comfortable enough, then don’t.”

“But what if it does feel right? What if she expects me to kiss her? I’m a little out of practice here and—”

“Then kiss me.”

Steven’s body freezes up. For a split second, he assumed that he had heard you wrong. That his brain was playing a cruel trick on him, making him hear words that were never actually spoken out loud. Words that he’d imagine leaving your lips one too many times. 

But then you ask him once more— this instance slightly firmer yet still soft enough that the request could have been genuinely sincere in his ears.

“Kiss you? Wha— why for, darling?” His voice is trembling as he feigns strict reluctance, silently hoping you don’t take it as an offense.

“You say you’re out of practice, so let’s fix that. We have like what— ten minutes before you have to leave? If it does come down to kissing Dylan at some point tonight, then I want you to be somewhat prepared. That’s if you don’t mind, of course.”

In any other circumstance, Steven would have kissed you in a heartbeat. If only you gave him a chance.

A real chance, and not this.

It takes Steven every ounce of strength in his body to maintain his composure. He blinks a few times, standing there unmoved like a deer caught in headlights. Then, there’s a hand on his shoulder— your hand— and he notices how there’s suddenly barely any space between you and him.

“Kiss me, and I’ll tell you if there’s anything you need to work on.”

Swallowing thickly, Steven stammers out your name, his face flushing with heat. “No-no, we don’t have to. It’s totally fine, dear. I-I can manage on my own, I think.”

“Oh, come on,” you grouse. “Steven, you trust me, right?”

He nods his head in response.

“Then let me help you with this. Just look at this as a trial run. You kiss me, have a feel for what it’s like again since it’s been so long for you. When it comes time to kiss Dylan, whether that’d be tonight or hopefully on a different day, you won’t get as highly strung about it.”

Time’s ticking, and Steven’s deliberating your suggestion as if it were a life-or-death decision. This isn’t a good idea. How on earth could this quell the storm of feelings he has for you? Kissing you is both everything he ever wanted and the worst thing that could happen at that moment. He’s tempted and afraid simultaneously, and he can’t focus on what his logical self is trying to say.

Do it.

Don’t do it. Are you mad?

Do it, and you won’t have to panic if the opportunity presents itself.

Don’t do it. You’ll end up suffering at the fact that you’ll never get to kiss—

Do it, or it will be your biggest regret and—

Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t— do it. Just do it.

Just this once, do it.

“Never mind, it’s okay if you don’t—”

Whatever words you had to say are stolen away from your mouth as Steven claims it with his. Eyes shut tight with his hands clasped on your shoulders, the kiss is slow and hesitant, barely skimming the surface of your lips. His angle as he kisses you is off; his neck is craned in an odd position that a kink begins to form. That, plus he’s quickly running out of air, becoming mildly lightheaded as he forgets one of the most important things there is in kissing— and that is to breathe.

But how could Steven remember how to when he’s kissing you?

“Steven,” you mumble against his lips, and he forcibly pulls himself away.

“Oh, dear god, that was awful for you, wasn’t it? I-I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable in any way. Can we please forget—”

“Wait, no, it’s not that, Steven,” you express. “It wasn’t awful. I thought the kiss was nice, actually. Trust me, I’ve had worse kisses than that. Yours isn’t as bad as you think.”

That makes him smile. “I— uh, thank you. You saying that means a lot, really. Kind of reassuring, too. But, erm… what advice could you give me to, umm, be better at it?”

“Well, first thing’s first, I need you to relax a little more. I could feel how tense your body was while we were kissing.”

“Relax more, got it,” Steven agrees, writing a mental note as he steadies his rapidly beating heart. “What else?”

“Hmm… it’s much better if I show you, honestly. May I?”

Your fingers delicately reach for his hand resting on his side as he gives you a “yes” in a hushed tone. Smiling softly, you bring it to your face, pressing his palm against your warm cheek. “Hold me like this, okay?”

“Okay,” Steven sighs, waiting patiently for the following instruction.

“When you’re going in for the kiss, tilt your head a bit… a little more, yup, that’s it. Then, slowly lean in—”

Fluttering his eyes closed, his lips a hair’s breadth from yours now, breaths mingling together as your gentle voice guides him on what to do next.

“This is the part where you let instincts take over. Do whatever feels right. Just relax, and don’t forget to breathe through your nose. I’ll lead, and you follow. If you want to stop, and you can if you have to, then go ahead. Are you ready?”

“Ready,” Steven confirms, voice barely above a whisper.

And he waits. He waits, and he waits until finally, he senses you leaning in to close the tiniest gap, your plush lips pressing against his. Then, Steven’s kissing you again— this time, it’s much sweeter, more tender. More like how he pictured it would be. Your hand holds him by the back of his neck, pulling him in impossibly closer. Your noses brush against each other, and he swears he could feel you smiling into the kiss.

Eventually, your lips start to move against him. Slow at first, as if testing the waters. I’ll lead, and you follow, Steven hears your words echoing from earlier, and he does as he’s told. His lips mold into yours, and he moves in sync with them as much as he can while inhaling softly through the kiss.

Breathe. Don’t forget to breathe.

But, oh, how you smell so lovely. So sweet and so divine.

Steven would remain this way forever…

If only he could. If only he wasn’t so afraid.

He commits this all to memory; the softness of your lips, the gentleness of your touch, the small gasps escaping the back of your throat. Things that Steven would probably not experience again with you. Not when any of this isn’t truly real.

But, for now, he allows himself to melt under your touch. Letting every square inch of his body dissolve into yours as he pretends that you’re his, even if it’s only for the shortest time.

Because at least he’ll have this— the idea of what could be.

The idea of the paradise he’d wished for each night.

When you part minutes after, Steven’s out of breath, and so are you. He feels you slipping away from him, and it’s like he’s about to wake up from a dream. But as his eyes blink open, he meets your tender gaze and the smile playing on your slightly swollen lips.

You’re real; this is real. He had just kissed you, over and over again— and it had all happened in reality, not in the confines of his mind.

“H-How was that?” He breaks the calm stillness of the room.

Your smile only grows. “It’s perfect, Steven. That was… perfect.”

“Good,” he murmurs proudly. “That’s good to know. Thank you.”

“As I said before, Dylan’s one lucky gal.”

Dylan. Steven’s heart sinks at the name.

“Yeah, I guess so,” he says, shoulders slumping as he hides the brokenness of his tone. “I… uh. I should better get going now. I was thinking of buying her some flowers and chocolates to surprise her.”

“Smart move, Steven Grant,” you comment, patting him softly on his chest. “She’s going to love that, I’m sure of it.”

The next couple of minutes is almost a blur to Steven. He doesn’t recall saying much as you gave his hair and outfit one last check before he escorted you out of his flat and down to yours. With a kiss on the cheek and a final bid of good luck, you close the door when he starts ambling to the elevator at the end of the hall.

As Steven waits for the lift to arrive, the warmth of your lips remains lingering on his, his entire body still buzzing with electricity.

But now he’s left uncertain whether he regrets kissing you or not. It felt wrong. Something in Steven felt like what he had done was wrong. That he should have never let it happen, that he should have never let it get that far. 

You would have understood if he had declined your help, but he didn’t. He didn’t say no, and he kissed you.

To you, that kiss meant nothing.

But to Steven, it meant everything.

Surely, his life can’t get more fucked up than this, right?

- ☾-

taglist: @milkiane @dopeqff @liaaacantwrite @raging-trash-of-mind @daydreamingchaos713 @tinysquirrrrelgirl @khonshus-wife @loonymagizoologist @thelaststraw3 @irethepotato @syrma-sensei @mad-malory @allthingsvicf @victoriaarantza @battaltt @juleslovesfics @j-n-h-p @mooonlight-and-stars @xcatnapsx @jakecockley @izbelross @mrs-holmes @avatar-of-procrastination @darthxochitl @doomsdaybby @jakelcckley @xdarkcreaturex @glitteringhippie @fleurated @kyrst1n @n0ripeaches @bxmxtx @elaine-spades @mona-has-friends @ghostlyreads @later-gators12 @rmoonstoner @lluckpng @kezibear @valromanoff @devilish-mirage @nagemasstuff @leh2393

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masterlist

#steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant fanfic #steven grant imagine #moon knight x reader #moon knight fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #moon knight

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Heavy Metal Lover

Karlach x F! Tav

18+ physical combat (consensual), so much teasing, public sex (kind of), manhandling, roughness, restraint, dom karlach/sub tav, strength kink, hand kink, size difference, fingering (f!), grinding, light choking, overstimulation, porn w/o plot

With her touch newly returned, Karlach is hungry for contact. Seeking out Tav for a little hand to hand combat that quickly turns heated...

Masterlist

-

Tav resisted rolling her eyes at Astarion's wide grin. That face meant only one thing, he was about to be insufferable about something.

"What?" She sighed, resigned to the incoming teasing.

"You haven't noticed, have you?" He purred, an indulgent edge of pre-emptive preening in his voice.

"Obviously not, if you're being this unbearable." She sniped flatly, turning back to hanging laundry on tip toes.

He slid his foot under the arch of her heel, biting at her teasingly when she turned to give him a glare. Baring her own absent fangs.

"Look real close now..." He pointed across camp to Karlach. She was trying to talk Wyll into sparring with her, him trying to wave her away good naturedly.

Tav roved her eyes over the tall muscular body, pushing the slow creep of lust aside to focus on any changes.

She was starting to get frustrated, suddenly sure that Astarion was just fucking with her again, trying to get her to ogle their companion.

That's when she caught it. Two newly rounded talons on her right hand, pointer and middle finger.

Tav sucked in an involuntarily breath, lips falling open. All higher thinking pulled from her mind.

"Eager, isn't she?" Astarion crooned, jolting Tav back. His voice far too knowing for her taste as he hovered behind her.

"It's only been one night since she's gotten touch back, I admire her ambition."

Knowing his hands were clasped behind his back in that leaning way he always does.

Karlach's eyes caught Tav's, waving excitedly. Like they hadn't been together all day, rocking on the balls of her feet happily.

Tav groaned, heart jelly.

"Oh," Astarion lilted out a laugh. "She's got it bad for you."

"Wait, really?" Tav turned to him, clothespin in hand. Her snarky play falling back for a moment in genuine confusion.

Astarion tilted his head at her, his demeanor falling back in kind. "Seriously? Gods, Tav, you really are unobservant."

"Hey, it's not that I don't pay attention. I'm just blind to when it's aimed at me." She huffed, crossing arms.

"Oh, I know. I'm still amazed that you were blindsided to Gale's pining."

He relented when Tav threw her arms up in frustration.

"Ah, ah, okay. You're just blind to your own suitors, we'll agree. So trust me as an objective pair of eyes. That tower of muscle wants you. Badly."

"Oh, and here she comes now!" Astarion giggled, trapezing away on delighted feet. "Good luck with your new knowledge, darling!"

"Someone wants to go hungry tonight!" She threatened after him. Him giving her a little twirl.

"Uh-oh, you two are always at each other's throats." Karlach laughed, watching him go with fond eyes. "Literally."

"Oh, we were just playing." Tav assured, returning to hanging sheets.

"What's up, Karlach?" She asked, back on tip toes. Smoothing hands over the pleats, stretching up to pin the fabric down.

Karlach grabbed the clothespin from her hands easily, pinning it above her natural reach.

"Oh! Thank you!" Tav squeaked. Trying not to give the height difference between them any thought at all.

"Well, no one will spar with me." Karlach pouted. Her eyes starting to swim with tears that she brushed away with angry fingers. Huffing out a steadying breath, smiling down at Tav.

"But I think you might be under my weight class, might be an unfair fight to ask you."

Tav's heart thrilled.

"I mean... I am stronger than I look."

This was true. She was eyeline with mostly chests, but she could pull some weight. Hells she's carried unconscious Gale over her shoulders several times now in the heat of battle.

Huh. Okay, his crush on her makes sense.

"I would love to spar with you, Karlach." She smiled, handing her up another sheet to hang.

"Really?!" Karlach bunched the fabric in her hands in excitement.

"Oh, whoops." She shook out the fabric, giving it one hard flick of her wrist. The fabric snapping in the air.

Tav let out a little involuntarily moan, then clapped her hand over her mouth. Gods below, what was that...

"You okay, soldier? Felling up to it?"

"Yeah, just.. uh, a little woozy." She tapped the side of her neck where the given pinpricks lay.

"You know, now that I'm touchable again, I wouldn't mind giving you a break some nights. Mama K's got a lot of blood to give."

Tav saw a silver head pop up in her peripheral.

"Ah, I'm alright." Tav flapped her hands in an affable way. "Though something tells me our favorite leech might start circling now."

"He's a hungry boy, we gotta keep him big and strong!" Karlach laughed.

"Okay, big and strong, I'll see you tonight." Tav teased.

Karlach's tail curled up, arching at the base. Her cheekbones heating.

"Okay... Well. Bye..." She sighed, turning and walking in a forced casualty that even Tav could clock.

Astarion's mouth had fallen open, hand hovering over his jaw. When he caught Tav's gaze, he pointed to where a tail would be on his body. Raising his eyebrows in salacious glee.

Tav didn't know much about tiefling tail etiquette but could glean enough from his pantomiming. Her own cheeks warming as she stomped at him to quit it, only fueling the bouncing suppressed laughter in his shoulders.

-

Initially, several of their companions had agreed to sit ringside. But as the day wore endlessly on with sun bearing down, most of them either decided to retire early or wade into the cool river with a few bottles of wine.

"Don't take too long..." Astarion sing-songed over his shoulder, a wine bottle hanging loose from his fingertips.

"Oh! Wait!" Tav called, standing and meeting him in the middle. Unbuckling the strap on the dagger at his hip, taking the bottle from his fingers and uncorking it with her teeth.

"Ugh, don't do that. You'll ruin your teeth." He chided, angling his hip for her to pull the dagger free.

"Shush." She cut into the back of her hand, dripping it into the rim of the thick glass. Swirling slowly.

He took his dagger back with a spin of fingers, seating it back with an unconscious flourish.

"Say when." She flexed her hand, encouraging more flow.

"Is never an option?"

"No, unless you want to get punched again."

"Gods, you do have a mean hook." He rubbed his jaw in memory.

"Alright fine. That's plenty." Leaning forward, he licked the stem of blood until it slowed to a stop.

"You know that only closes your wounds, right? Or I'd put you to use as a cleric on the battlefield."

He sighed dreamily. "Oh, it would be delicious. But very uncharitable motivation, I assure you."

"Well, best be off." He eyed the approaching tiefling with a mischievous twinkle. "Thank you, my darling."

She kissed his cheek. "No problem, have fun."

He waved over his shoulder as he departed, Karlach coming to Tav's side.

"Aw, you two are so cute together."

"Oh, we're not together." Tav laughed, the thought strange. "He reminds me of so many of my siblings."

"So many?" Karlach laughed. "Wait, how many do you have?"

"Entirely too many." Tav huffed, unconsciously settling into that authoritative posture she used with them.

"Aw, man. I want too many!" Karlach clicked her tongue. "Ah, well. Can't win 'em all."

"Speaking of, prepared to lose?" Tav teased, rolling her shoulders back.

"Oh, ho," Karlach laughed, settling back into a crouch. "Bring it on, babe."

Tav widened her stance, rolling her arm back in a curved elbow. Loosening her neck.

"Ready?" Tav hummed, balanced on the heels of her feet.

"Very." Karlach urged, fingers flexing.

"Then come get me." Tav smiled.

Karlach lunged forward, trying to sweep her leg.

Tav picked up her feet, ducking around her. Dodging another hand reaching for her wrist.

She laughed as she planted a foot to stand on Karlach's crouched hip. Using her shoulder as a hold to step up, swinging around her back to put her in a headlock. Hand pushing into her throat.

"Choking, huh?" She chided.

Karlach kneeled down abruptly, slamming her back into the ground.

Tav released, the air taken out of her. Still trying to lock her legs around Karlach's thighs.

"Oh, come on," Karlach laughed, prying her legs open with her hands. Her shoulder muscles rippling with exertion.

Tav's mouth fell open at the sight and sensation. Even with the full strength of her thighs, Karlach split her like cleaved wood.

Karlach turned and pinned her thighs open between her own, sitting on her pelvis.

"Hah!... Hey, why'd you stop?"

Tav's eyes darted down to the position they were pushed into.

Karlach paused, looking down as well.

"Oh..."

Neither moved, both huffing with exertion.

A stand still, the air charged with tension. Thighs straddled criss cross, their centers pressed together.

Tav tried not to moan, just the heat coming from her core pulling slick from her.

All it would take is one of them moving their hips.

Karlach looked down at her with blown out eyes, a desperate hunger, near anger, pulling her face slack. One hand gripping into Tav's propped thigh, starting to rock her hips.

"Gods, this heat!" Gale exclaimed, emerging from his tent. Fanning himself with a thin tome, heading towards the water.

Karlach flipped Tav up by the hips, pulling her up into a more appropriate position kneeling next to her. Tav squeaked, being manhandled so easily sending another wave of arousal to her lust dumb mind.

Gale turned towards them, unaware. "Oh! Are you guys coming too? I wouldn't mind the company on the walk."

"Absolutely!" Karlach called, giving Tav a questioning raise of her eyebrows.

"Oh! Uh, yeah! I'd love to hear about that." She pointed to the tome he was holding.

Rising to feet, led by Karlach's hand. Another shock of arousal as she stared at the mesmerizing sight, curled around hers with its diabolically implicit fingernails.

Gods above and below help her.

Gale chattered excitedly ahead as they walked, and Tav was really trying to listen. Truly, she was. But Karlach was walking just behind her, a hand flat against her lower back. The spread of fingers absurd, so wide it made her knees weak. Thumb rubbing mind numbing arcs into the sensitive skin.

Through the haze of her lust she managed a few well timed sounds of affirmation, trying to focus on silly things like words.

Oh, what fresh hells had she unleashed. Feeling Karlach's wide smile behind her. Enjoying tormenting her so innocently. Wanting to swat her away and lean in as hard as possible at the same time.

After an eternity, they reached the water. The gentle swell and lapping mockingly peaceful, moon ribboned and dark. Their companions gathered, floating conversation and passing wine.

Gale sat on the dock, rolling his sleep pants up to the calf. Dipping legs in with a deep sigh.

"Not getting in, Gale?" Karlach remarked in gentle disappointment. Fingers slipping inside of Tav's waistband behind her.

Tav breathed out a fast breath through nose, stomping her foot just slightly. Sliding the movement into shifting her weight casually.

"Ah, too much skin for present company." He smiled, a slight blush rising to his cheeks. Eyes darting to Tav, then quickly away.

"But don't let me discourage you. Go on, enjoy the water in all it's glory."

"Well, what do you think, Tav?" Karlach asked in a deceptively neutral voice.

As she was about to respond, Karlach pulled her fingers taut into her waistband, snapping it against her lower back. Covering the sound with a cough.

A rush of wetness pooling in her underclothes, she hissed out a quiet threat. Karlach's fingers grazing her skin, a quivering of contained laughter in the chest she stepped back into.

"I think that's a great idea. If you'll pardon us Gale?"

She didn't wait to get his response, pulling Karlach in her wake. Her low laugh slipping out as she was led, Tav in a fast stomp, Karlach in an easy wide stride. Long legs not having to rush at all to keep up.

Tav was about to turn to lay into her when a wide hand caught around the front of her throat. Another pushing flat against her lower belly. Both burning hot.

Her breath caught, leaning head back as those fingers splayed up her neck. Sharp talons pressing into the underside of her jaw.

"I wasn't done back there." Her voice all gravel. Pressing the words into the side of her head, heat pressing into her back. The expanse of muscle a heavy presence behind her.

Tav whimpered, twisting to look behind them to gauge how close they were to the group.

"Nothing important back there, baby." She laughed, pulling Tav's chin forward with a force belieing her easy words.

"Gods, Tav," She sighed, voice all heat again. Fingers sliding down the front of her waistband, long fingers traveling a short distance quickly. "I've been so hungry to fuck you."

Tav moaned a little whine at the vulgarity, knees buckling in earnest. Karlach's own knee pushed into hers, forcing her down into an open kneel. Her large body enveloping behind, thighs encircling around hers.

Her fingers strained against the fabric for a few seconds before she huffed out a frustrated breath. Hands gripping up onto Tav's hips, pulling her up onto her belly, wrenching her leggings down onto her knees, then seating her back onto knees with barely an effort.

"There, that's better." She said decidedly. Tav delirious with lust from being handled like a five pound weight.

Karlach's fingers found her center again with a happy hum. Rounded fingertips pushing inside her with no further pretense. Tav bucking at the sudden introduction.

Karlach's other hand came back up to spread along her throat, pressing down just hard enough to make her moan. Long fingers thrusting slow thigh shaking pleasure into her. Her hips rocking into the hilt of her palm.

"Fuck, you're so tight around my fingers." Karlach hissed, rising on one knee to grind into her lower back.

Tav arched her ass into her in time, her hand and hips pulsing a rhythm into her. Gasping out staggered breaths.

"Take your top off for me." Karlach murmured, unwilling to give up her hold. Fingers tightening a wide cage into her neck.

Tav pulled her blouse open with fast fingers, pooling onto her elbows. Unclapsing the front of her bra, breasts falling free. Her hard nipples pebbling even more rigid. The combination of the sweltering night air and the fire at her back making her feel untethered.

Karlach's grinding sped up at the sight, sucking in a breath through teeth. Fingers picking up the pace a few moments later, taking a second to catch up to her hips.

Fingers now slamming into her, Tav's legs gave out, head falling back. Squeaking out fast indignant whines.

"Shhh..." Karlach urged, hand coming up from her throat to muffle over her mouth. Pulling her head back into her. "We're far, but not that far."

Tav's nails dug into her thighs, Karlach groaning quietly against her back. Tav's eyes rising into her skull, lids fluttering. Her cunt clenching in irregular pulses as her orgasm circled, drawing ever closer.

She murmured against Karlach's hand and she released slightly, fingers still plunging into her in lewd squelching.

"What was that?" She whispered, voice as sweet as her hands were rough.

"Choke me again, please."

Karlach's cunt ground into her so hard it pushed her forward. Her hand snapping back down around her throat, pulling her back flush in a sharp grip.

"Fuck yes." Karlach breathed, feeling the tremor coming from her core, pelvis bucking uncontrolled. "Give it to me, baby. Cum all over me."

Tav whimpered, cunt chasing her fingers with abandon. Her moans silenced in her throat. Head falling back, orgasm about to crest.

Karlach looked down into her eyes, pulling her jaw open further with her thumb. Licking up the inside of her lower lip with a groan.

That wrenched the orgasm from her far faster than she was ready for, her cry cut off abruptly into a hiss by Karlach's tightening fingers. Loosening as she enveloped her mouth in a muffling kiss. Tav gripped the back of her head and the curve of her horn desperately as it ripped through her. Cunt tightening down in visible pulls of her fingers, cum pushing out onto her palm with every thrust.

Karlach moaned against her mouth, the heat of her lips reigniting the hunger in her belly. Her body overstimulated all the same she whimpered against her, fast fingers still plunging.

"Just one more for me, baby. You're so pretty when you cum." Karlach urged, thumb rubbing hard circles into her cum slick clit.

Tav whined, buckling forward.

"Back." Karlach growled, fisting her hair into a ponytail. Pulling her flush once again.

"Yes, saer." Tav moaned.

"Fuck, call me that again." Karlach groaned, hips bucking hard into her back. Hand winding in a taut circle, pulling her hair back to her knuckles.

Tav moaned, a ragdoll to her demanding, in both body and words. Crying out as her second orgasm hit.

"Cum on my back- please, saer!"

Karlach shuddered against her, biting down hard into her shoulder to muffle herself. Her sharp teeth sending a shock of pain through her already unbearably high pleasure. Tav's nails curving with bruising intensity into her thigh, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out. The second wave of slick pushing into the first, dripping down Karlachs wrist. A spreading wet against her lower back as Karlach's hips slowed into choppy pulses.

"Fuck..." She slid her fingers free, veiled in a thick layer of pulling arousal. Spreading it between her two fingers indulgently, making Tav blush despite the absolutely lewd behavior she just displayed.

"Karlach..." She whined, uncomfortable.

"Okay, okay." She chuckled. Popping the fingers into her mouth, sucking them clean with a thorough tongue. As if that was any better.

When her mouth opened again, Tav caught sight of something that made her cunt ache again.

"Karlach, why do you have a tongue piercing?" She whined, finding the whole situation extremely unfair.

"Huh? Oh, I hadn't realized you hadn't seen it! Though maybe you're usually not at an angle where you can, you tiny thing."

Karlach stuck it out flat, the small rounded stud displayed in the middle of her long pointed tongue.

Tav moaned, cupping her face and licking a line up the middle. The little smooth bump sending a renewed shock through her exhausted pelvis.

Karlach groaned, eyes fluttering up then returning to hers dark again.

"Careful soldier," She warned. "You're going to burn us both up."

~

#its actually criminal that i havent written more karlach smut. shes so diabolically my type #need her so unbelievably and to a frightening degree #hello fellow lesbians and beloved sapphics 👋 #karlach smut #karlach x tav #bg3 smut #screenshot by @5mcsinatrenchcoat #lyrics from: bite marks - ari abdul

[hail-brod]

A Chance and Beyond (1)

Next chapter: (Chapter 2)

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Loki x FReader

Set after the events of Thor: Ragnarok and begins with Infinity War when the spaceship containing Thor and the other Asgardians were spared from the supposed attack of Thanos. Meaning, Loki is alive. But the threat still looms.

(Also, let's just pretend Hela didn't destroy Mjollnir :DD)

Spoilers for Loki season 2!

Warning/s: Just some cursing

WC: 3.3k

When you realized that your existence is in great trouble, you do your best to find a way to get back to where you were previously encapsulated as a time criminal. After all, they're the reason why you're fucked. But, seems like you'll be needing the Avengers' help first. And Loki's.

"What the fuck."

Was all Tony Stark could managed to say after being abruptly interrupted by a terrifyingly distorted figure appearing right in front of him, evidently disrupting the banter he was having with the so-called God of Mischief, Loki. The other avengers surrounding the two men were no different, frozen on their spot as they gather round in the sophisticated compound, loss for words at the woman who happens to appear uninvited.

You stood there breathless.

Without any second thoughts, they made their move directing a fighting stance at you, as if expecting a sudden attack. Just what you'd expect from the Earth's mightiest heroes.

Minus Loki.

Though, not without a hint of confusion delighting their faces.

After you had successful regain your balance, although still dreading the feeling of being ripped apart through time, you slowly flayed your hands up in defeat. Panting, you surveyed around.

You were in the Avengers' compound.

"What...in the hell was that?" the one who seemed to have said that was actually the only one hesitant to attack you, knuckles upfront him with an obvious unsureness as his eyes warily scanned you. Gaping, he continued. "Did I...Did I hallucinate that or...? Oh, god, am I going mad?"

"I don't believe that is the case here, Banner." boomed Thor, holding out Mjollnir threateningly. Eyes stern at your panting form.

Alright, how fortunate to see a very familiar face.

"I hope so. Or else, I might as well decide that being on a whole different planet for a whole year and being part of a godly family crisis has already altered my mind in many different ways."

"Bruce, calm down." a bearded blonde man with a shield said. Steve Rogers. You recall. "Just be thankful that isn't the case here because it certainly isn't."

You wish you could snort at the exchange but you have other matters to focus on at the moment. Though, you held Banner's terrified gaze with a wary of your own as you think for a moment who Banner is but you brush it aside.

You can't afford to dilly-dally with such questions and just preferably, avoid starting a needless fight.

With Stark now a few steps back from you, hands enclosed in his iron red gauntlet with the center of his palm alight, he eyed you suspiciously. He pointed at you, threatening to blast you on your spot. Not even sliding the chance to put out a snarky comment. "I don't know about that Cap. I think we've all gone mad."

"Shut it, Tony." the blondied woman in a black armored and leather suit remarked, eyeing the freaked out Banner. "Now's not the time."

He only gave her a stern look before returning it back to you, although not without muttering something under his breath. You can almost make out the mocking smile he had before seriously staring you down.

That's also when you perfectly noticed the raven haired God at your other side. Just like Stark, he was a few steps away. Your hands were still in the air as you didn't waste a second to slowly shift your eyes to the God who you we're just with a few hours ago.

Technically, it isn't him and also, you're not even certain if that was a few hours ago. TVA has victoriously displaced your sense of time and you have no choice but to set that aside for now.

First and foremost, let's not die in the hands of these worldly — and otherworldly — renowned superhuman Midgardian people.

"That was no sorcery." was all Loki could utter, blaring a suspicious glare at you. At this point, you can say that everyone here is glaring daggers at you with so much suspicion after just witnessing you appear uncannily right in front of their eyes. Loki's trusty daggers points at you with such intensity that you can't help but freeze on your spot entirely. You garner that moving further might just cause him to pounce on you and successfully cut your throat out.

Such a Loki trait. You consciously note. At the same time, it pricks a sense of oddness to you.

"For once, I can agree with you." this time, it was the man in a red cape. His hands projecting a some sort of fiery circular engravings — Or markings, it seems — that you were not familiar with. Although, it did felt familiar. "Who are you and why have you come here?"

Finally asking the right questions, everyone else anticipated your response.

"I'd really thought you'd ask how I did get here but, fine." your attempt at settling everything down with a little humor earned nothing. You only strained a smile. "You can put your guard down now. I doubt I can even inflict damage to any of you when I am outnumbered, don't you think?" You say with a nervous shrug.

"Wait.." Thor started. "You are an Asgardian."

Ah.

"Wait, what now?" a conflicted Banner turned to him with a frown. "Where did that come from?"

"Her clothing." it was Loki. Tilting his head, he slightly squinted at you. You can already feel their movements break from their stance but nonetheless, was still on guard. "But I wouldn't want to jump to conclusions if I were you, brother. A lie or two is easy to miss." he says that in a lowered and slick tone, eyes prying deep in your existence.

"Good preach, God of Lies, but why don't you myth brothers figure something out if she'll massacre us or join the party. Is that good or is that impossible?" Stark commands.

"That's-" Thor tries to say.

"I can do that." Oh no.

Without hesitation, Loki readies to attack you with a knowing smirk. You want to say that you expected that but in terms of fighting physically between you and him, he always precedes. Except when it comes to sorcery.

Yet, his daggers haven't spelt your doom when suddenly, you fell.

You fell and landed in a bright room enclosed with the very bright color of white. Norns, help me. At this point, I'm not even surprised if Midgardian structures could be capable of blinding me. Humans and their taste in design.

Before you could jump to assumptions whether you time-slipped again, you heard the sound of sizzling above you as you turn to look only to see a yellow ring close.

Oh. You thought. Of course. How can I forget that doctor wizard and his parlor tricks? I can do better than that.

But before you could prove it to no one in particular by trying to dematerialize a wall for your way out, which you expected to be unbreakable because, well, this is the Avengers' territory — you felt the familiar twist of your body as you closed your eyes, getting ready for what's to come. You're time-slipping. Again.

When you opened your eyes, you don't know if you should be relieved or not because you were still in the same spot.

I am seriously starting to despise this more than anything. You say in your mind, cranking your head in pain.

As if the universe has heard your impulsive thoughts for wanting to pride yourself as the better sorcerer, one episode of time-slipping has managed to avert your thoughts to a different one. There's really no point in trying to escape when you'll be thrown off eventually to a different timeline thus, relieving you off of this situation. At least you hope you'll have that kind of luck, considering that you're here imprisoned and untrusted by heroes. For the meantime, you painfully have a lot of questions.

The fact that you are time-slipping outside of TVA is making you feel wary and disoriented.

Not just that, because you're not being tossed around through time in one place like before in TVA, but because you're being tossed around in different branches of time. You can't help but overthink, a blooming panic erupts in you. If what you heard from Ouroboros was true, about the possibility of being lost to time, then maybe you can consider that that's what's occurring to you. Adding to that, how can Loki and the others track you when there's a number of branches exceeding spontaneously and you're amongst one of them — inconsistently appearing through one branch after another.

To hell with this time-slipping phenomenon.

Such thoughts have managed to waver your poised will. You don't want this. After everything that's happened, you're now overwhelmed by incomparable fear, enough to cover the pang of grief that you successfully tried to keep a hold off during the dangers you have encountered. And that causes you to resume the fear of losing something again. If before you've lost the right to exist in your own timeline, then now seems like you're losing more than you could think of.

A chance. The chance to only exist without the burden of being a criminal to time.

The Loki you met ensured you that. And you're scared to lose the hope you unconsciously held so close that he had given you.

You're scared that you're bound to be stuck in time, alone and nowhere to belong to.

You're just a displaced speck of entity in the vast timelines of universes, an error meant to be rid of.

Is this truly the ending that you deserve?

Just lost to time. For eternity.

After everything that you've been through, you think of the fact that your Nexus event was a fickle thing in the grand scheme of things. A mere sentiment, and now it's a fault that you apparently cannot undo.

Would you have regret it?

Ah. You think. That's the problem,

I don't.

For the love of Buri, what is happening?

You have already time-slipped thrice in a row now, and you're still where you stood afoot a few minutes ago.

You hitched your breathing as you relished the acquainted feeling of distortion, you exhaled in distraught. Your mind trying to run a million miles per second thinking of an explanation on the same bloody concept of time as well as your timely old friend, time-slipping. Marvelous.

But before you could sit down and relax on the cushions edging on two sides of the opposite walls which levels above your knee, you caught in the corner of your eye the wall you tried to dematerialize earlier; now fading from white to being transparent like glass.

And behind the glass wall stood your captors.

You tried to ground yourself with the wall beside you, but you pushed your body to the side so that you can at least have the decency to look like you aren't struggling so much. Because you definitely aren't.

"Good catch." remarked Stark. "We have so much going on today with Earth being threatened by a goofy alien that's apparently so much more dangerous than we could know — and now, you add more questions and trouble to that just for appearing out of nowhere like a grated spaghetti."

You almost missed the way the blonde woman rolled her eyes at Stark's words but nonetheless, you focus on what he said.

Earth being threatened by an alien.

"Do you mean to say... Thanos?" you ask. Doubtlessly aware of his feats and reputation in your timeline. Their heads perked up at the mention of the said Titan.

"You know of him?" quite surprised at the familiar voice, you turn to look at Thor.

Parting your lips with slight hesitation, you reply. "No. No, I do not. At least, not personally. He is called the Mad Titan, a galactic conqueror. Tis but a.... common knowledge where I come from."

"Which is Asgard, is it not?" Loki tauntingly says.

Oh, well.

He eyes you in victory for having caught your lie and the foolish words you had unintentionally slip. But he continued. "Or perhaps, my brother and I are mistaken to assume that you are a kin of our people. As well as considering that of your knowledge of this Mad Titan, you seem to know more than just that." you slightly stiffened, noting the lofty tone he had, slowly strutting his way forward with his hands tucked behind him. "Keep hiding your secrets but your eventual lies will get you nowhere when I'm here, imposter."

"Brother..."

"No, no, let him. It's great that we have a lie-detector in the team." Stark muses, earning an unamused head shake from Rogers.

Your gaze lingers a tad bit longer than you intended to at the raven-head, deciding whether you should even admit your unruly situation to them and potentially double their troubles a hundredfold by stating that their lives are also in danger from a timeless phenomenon and being at risk for the possible collapse of their existence altogether.

Probably not a good idea.

Moreover, you don't want to let yourself fall in the luxury of pitting yourself with fellow Asgardians and perhaps attain the old life you had when you woefully know that you have no place in any kind of reality no more. Your heart clenches at that.

But how can you possibly deny your origin and the non-sorcery distortion materialization, also called—

Your body aches and twists as you grit your teeth, shutting your eyes and reliving the ripping portion of this damned time-slip. As it ended, your breath wavers as you pant, shoulders crooked at the fleeting sensation it brought. Expecting that maybe you have been transported to another timeline, you peek one eye out.

You see the same faces and surroundings except this time, their reaction contorts to a series of pained and horrified expressions. Even Loki looked uneasy.

You exhale. "Pardon me, that must've been very unsightly." you eventually say.

"That just happened again." Banner gawks.

"Are you alright?" a stern voice asks. You turn to meet the concerned eyes of Rogers. "I assume that doesn't happen normally. Not even for Asgardians." you caught the quick glance he gave at Thor before focusing back on you.

You reply, nodding. "No, no, you're right. This is no common occurrence amongst the people of Asgard. It is simply just.... " you puff your body back up in a poised posture. "No, not simply." you let out a strained chuckle, confliction can be traced on your face. "To be painfully honest and blunt, I am lost through time and I haven't got a clue on what exactly I shall plan to do in these circumstances. Although indeed, I am an Asgardian but, from a different...let's say, reality. So rest assured because I don't plan on harming heroes I've accompanied in battle."

You were ready to receive their doubtful phrases and looks, but the sorcerer who brought you in this cage steps forward. Almost like he disapproved everything you had just mentioned.

"Time-travelling is not something to be tampered with. Unless, you're adept at the arts of time sorcery, and to be able to manipulate it without damaging our reality is rather a big feat for a sorcerer." he explains. This time, he frowns at you. "But no. Whatever's happening to you, it doesn't feel like magic."

You take in his words, holding his unrelenting stare. "You're right..."

You know Doctor Strange and his capabilities as the Sorcerer Supreme, and as you thought of the fact that he also possesses the Time Stone, maybe you can do something with his help.

Even though you know the chances of successfully using magic against a complication from TVA is way below the odds, you'd wager.

He raises a brow but before he could add more, you spoke. "Time-slipping." you pause, scanning his expression, hoping that maybe someone who knows so much about the expertise of time in terms of magic could help you discover your way back to TVA. Though, his face doesn't show any hint of knowing so you pushed further. "I've been repeatedly tossed around multiple branches of time against my will, but not because I time-traveled. For now all I can say is, I am stuck here in your reality and, well... with a distorting body."

"Great. Sure. Magic and sorcerers exist, even Gods, so why the hell would I not believe anything about time-traveling now? Tell me, Doc, is she making any sense to you?" Stark walks towards the said wizard. You slightly frowned at the tone he used. If this is how Tony Stark reacts to someone he doesn't trust just like how a particular individual mentioned to you, then you're glad that the Stark that you know favored you well.

Not that it matters anymore.

"I've never heard anything about that kind of problem. Especially now you do confirm it doesn't root from magic." the Doctor answers.

Stark hefts up his hands, looking around at everyone else, as if showing that his point has just been proven.

But from the corner of your eye, you noticed the way Loki haughtily rolls his eyes with a sigh and you perfectly know what irked him at that moment.

"As if a second-rate sorcerer could know anything more beyond the complexion of sorcery and time."

The only woman other than you sighs in slight frustration. "Oh, no. Someone please stop him."

If you weren't in a tight spot, you could've laughed at her compliant. Although, that earned her a glare from the trickster with crossed arms. For once in a while, it's nice to see Loki act so indifferently.

Strange only gave the God a pointed look before resting his eyes back on you. "Okay. If what you say is true, time-slipping as you would call it and to consider there's no magic tapping into this, what exactly do you plan on doing now?"

There it is. "I need your help."

"Are you shitting me right now?" Stark loops in.

"Even if with just your help, Doctor Strange. Please." you plead, firmly stepping closer to the glass barrier.

"How can you assure you're not just after something from us, specifically from him." Loki tips his head in Strange's direction. You know well that he caught unto your intentions as he spares a quick glance at the necklace of the said wizard.

Cocky snake.

At that, everyone stares at you sharply that if looks could kill, you'd be a dead corpse that has been stabbed with various types of weaponry magnificently forged by dwarves.

"You're not entirely wrong if you think that I'm after the Time Stone but for argument's sake, there is a reason why it is called the Time Stone." you explain, trying not to waver for being the receiving end to their eventual wrath. For a second, you thought you'd gain another yet of Loki's condescending retortions, but you're surprised that he only eyed you down impassively. Observing you.

Banner joins in. "If you admit it and put it like that then, I don't even know if you're lying or not anymore." he sits down on one of the metallic chairs by the semi-circular machinery in the middle of the room. "Even though that last part sounded dumb for an excuse; which is exactly why I'm having second thoughts."

"That's... I appreciate that — I think." you say, slightly frowning. It is dumb. You don't blame him though.

He gives you a tight-lipped smile which disappears immediately. "Yeah, no, it's fine."

Stark looks at him incredulously, as if he truly felt betrayed. "Bruce, what the hell?"

The others quirk confusingly at the exchange before you spoke again. "But to be clear again, that wasn't an excuse. Not for deception, at least."

It actually didn't sit quite well with you that the one who usually loves to deceive is standing idly in silence when you mentioned his expertise.

But you know that calculating gaze of his.

"Fine." you bat an eye at the person who spoke. "But you are to be restrained until we deem you trustworthy. One wrong step and you might just end up somewhere other than a cell."

A weight lifts up from your chest, somehow. You eye Strange in relief, almost a hint of exhaustion engulfs your expression but you blink it away. "I am grate-"

Your body contorts and twists once again.

Next chapter: (Chapter 2)

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Ko-fi?

#loki #loki season 2 #female reader #loki x reader #tva #tva loki x reader #mcu #marvel #marvel loki #marvel cinematic universe #time variance authority #the avengers #avengers #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #time slipping #loki series #loki s2 #loki season two

[cantsayidont]

Less controversial opinion:

SANTA CLARITA DIET: Genuinely hilarious if sometimes icky sitcom starring Drew Barrymore and Tim Olyphant as Joel and Sheila Hammond, SoCal real estate agents whose bubblegum-sweet romance and perpetually chipper demeanor hardly falter when Sheila somehow becomes an undead thing with poor impulse control and a hunger for human flesh. Not as gross as it sounds — albeit sometimes still quite gross — but very funny, and an unexpectedly delightful showcase for the chemistry and comedic timing of Barrymore and Olyphant (who also produced). Liv Hewson, later a costar on YELLOWJACKETS, shines as the Hammonds' snarky teenage daughter Abby, a budding ecoterrorist who's far less clueless about her parents' grisly recent activities than Joel and Sheila would like to think.

Body count aside, the show's biggest weakness is probably its convoluted mythology, which repeatedly hints at a larger explanation for what's happened to Sheila that remains cryptic and largely unexplained by the end of the third and final season. However, unlike YELLOWJACKETS (which borrows liberally from this show at several points), DIET benefits greatly from knowing when to pivot or introduce new complications before a given plot thread turns stale. In that sense, it was probably best that it wasn't renewed for a fourth season, since it appeared to be on the verge of making a big, probably imprudent shift in the basic premise.

#teevee #hateration holleration #santa clarita diet #drew barrymore #tim olyphant #liv hewson #if you're really invested in shawna and jeff in yellowjackets #it's an inferior knockoff of sheila and joel in santa clarita diet #yellowjackets

[anukulee]

The Mischief Filled Fox and The Mighty Lion

Thor Odinson was what everyone seemed to desire in a man, a man of tall stature standing at 6'4, his muscle was something of legends, built from years of wielding Mjolnir, hair as golden as the finest gold, his eyes as blue as the clearest ocean,  as for his face, it was as chiseled as one would expect from a god, with beard to accompany it that just seemed to work for him. His voice deep, yet seemed to boom no matter what he spoke, a feature that people would find endearing even if he was getting something wrong, at least that was from the prospective of Loki Friggason (formally Odinson). 

Loki Friggason to everyone was the forgotten son, for if Thor was the lion, fierce in nature and beloved by everyone, then Loki was the forgotten predator, much like a fox. Who hide within the shadows awaiting for the next prey, yet all along. For the lion was always expected to beat the fox, for Loki that had been a majority of his life. Thor always having everything as Loki was pushed into the shadows, forced to watch as his brother won everything he could ever desire. Thus when a foot-race had been suggested amongst the avengers, Loki had little interest in doing so, already knowning the outcome. To him it would be the same as all the rest, with the mighty lion prevailing in the end, with the fox forever left in the shadows, at so he had thought, little did he know that perhaps that this wouldn't be the same, all because of her, his cat, and his love……

From the moment that the avengers had suggested a foot-race, Loki had protested, continuing to even the day of. Foe while Thor was bouncing on the tips of his toes from excitement, Loki was less excited, his eyes already rolling at his brother's display. "Must we do this," he grumbled lacing up what the mortals called tennis shoes. To this Loki recieved several looks of annoyance, general displeasemeant, or neutrality in his direction.

"Now, now don't be a sore loser already reindeer games," Tony interjected, reaching down to pat Loki on his shoulder, despite Loki normally being far taller then Tony in stature.

"Must you call me that name, Anthony," Loki responded bitter about his nickname.

"Would you rather call you a bitter snake?"

"No."

"Then reindeer games it is, unless you would like to refered to as Snape."

"And why must I be refered to as anything?"

"For missions of course."

"And what do names have to do with missions?"

"If one of us ever get caught I would rather them know us by a code name, then our true names."

"You are merely saying that because you take delight, in my misery."

"Says you reindeer games." To this Tony recieved an eyeroll aimed in his direction, one that was very much deserved on his end. Yet before Loki could make another snarky and bitter comment, someone else injected, one that Loki was more pleased about.

"Now Tony, isn't that enough," a voice called out and the moment she opened her beautiful lips and spoke, Loki felt as if everything had stopped, for there was nobody else in the world aside from her. Words that she could've used as a shield to defend anyone and yet when she spoke they embraced him, much akin to a warm hug. Always being his defender much like a cat curling up to someone, her words feeling as gentle as one would expect a cat's tail to feel. 

"Well if it isn't, our resident reindeer tamer," Tony greeted his voice very light, in different to the seething of Loki. Loki's fist already starting to wrap against his knuckles, a mencing aura surounding the usual mischievious god.

"Say that again," Loki uttered, fist still tightly held.

Almost as if he sensed Loki's agression, Thor took to defusing the tension that was starting to cloud the air. His voice trying to remain airy despite Thor's long knowledge of his brother whenever he got like this. "I am sure Stark, was just jestering brother, right Stark." At this Thor shot Tony a look of tread careful in his direction.

"Right, it's not my fault that reindeer games here can't take a joke," Tony said almost oblivious to the tensiont that Loki was carrying either that or didn't care. For one might admit that Loki could be amusing like this, yet you could only poke the fox, so much before they bite you. 

"See, brother, Stark was joking, now how about I go see if our guests have arrived come with me, Stark."

"And miss the show?" The tone that Tony took sounded more like a child deprived of his favorite entertaiment then a grown man who ran one of the most powerful super groups. 

"I am afraid so Lady Pepper might be displeased if you don't welcome our guests," Thor said, as he tried to usher Tony in the other direction away from Loki, and his love, but not before turning to Loki one last time. "And try to treat the lady nicely brother."

"Don't I always? If I recall you were always the wild one when it came to the ladies of Asgard."

"You too have your trysts as they say."

"Perhaps." Slowly a smile began to creep upon Loki's face, Thor taking this as a chance to lead Stark elsewhere as they soon Loki and his love was alone. "So may I ask what brings you up here kitten," Loki asked casually as if his heart wasn't thumping.

"To see you who else?"

"Oh and not to see my oaf of a brother?"

"Now who is the older brother, here?"

"Still him."

"Even so you are still the older one."

"How, do you think that?"

"For all your mischief, you are far wiser when it comes to matters."

"But..."

"But nothing, don't let them get in your head."

"Why, we both know how this shall end kitten."

"Do we fox?"

"We both know that despite my brother being an oaf he always comes out the victor, much like a mighty lion."

"He will if you keep acting that way. Now chin up Loki," she said her eyes boring right into Loki's own, eyes that Loki desired to get lost in. Yet this wasn't the time, but when would he ever have the time?

"Not mischief or fox?"

"No, for now isn't the time for that."

"Then what time is it?"

"For this," she responded and before Loki could protest she had placed a delicate kiss onto Loki's cheek.

 "I.... I....," Loki stuttered as slowly, the mighty Loki once burdened with glorious face began to devolp a scarlet red, words unable to come out of his silver tongue for once. Just as Loki started to form the words, fates seemed to test as yet again something came in the way, a voice that Loki would rather not hear.

"Well it seems even the great silver tongue can shatter, much akin to that night," the voice said, at this Loki allowed another eye roll, to cross his features, for he knew that voice better then most, not even to have to look to know it belonged to Fandral. It was at moments like this that Loki was remainded of one his many mistakes and excatly why he should've never allowed himself to be seduced into Fandral even if it was just one time. For ever since that Fandral took the chance to tease Loki, and even remind him or their single sexual encounter, a memory that Loki would rather not think of. 

"Hello to you, Fandral," Loki said his voice laced with bitter venom, already not in the mood to see Fandral. Matters made worse when he seemed to take it upon himself as to place a single kiss on Kitten's hand.

"A pleasure as always, my lady. I still can't imagine how one such as Loki could be in the company of someone such as you."

A small growl might've escaped Loki's lips upon seeing this, through if anyone asked he would deny it. Through that still didn't mean Loki didn't have anything to say. "Don't you have other things to do, such as watch Thor do whatever he does?"

"Sif, Hogun, and Volstagg should be here shortly, I believe Thor was showing them around that human you call Stark's tower."

"Then why didn't you go with them?"

"They claimed my flirting was too much for them."

"So they stuck you on me."

"I thought you would be happier to see me."

"Yes, I am very much overjoyed to see you."

"Cross as always aren't you Lokes."

The moment that name slipped out of Fandral's lips, did a dagger get aimed at his direction. "Say that again, and we shall see just how pretty you are."

"Kinky as always I see,"  Fandral said clearly ignoring the danger that he was facing, at this Kitten took the chance to intervene.

"Now Loki, remember what Tony said."

"No aiming daggers at people."

"Excatly."

"But it's Fandral," Loki whinned much like a child having a toy taken from him.

"I understand the udge, but we can't keep getting complains about it. Perhaps you could pay him back for it later."

At this a smile began to spread on Loki's lips once more. "Clever as always my kitten."

"While as not as clever as one blessed with glorious purpose I do try."

"Will you never let me forget that?"

"Maybe."

"When?"

"Perhaps when I am dead."

"But who knows when that shall be," Loki teased trying not to think about that subject matter in particular. 

"Now shall we leave?" Her arm now offered out to Loki.

At this Loki quickly took the offered arm, for when would he get another chance at this. "Perhaps, we shall see what my brother is up to."

"There is my mischief," she teased as she once more placed another kiss to Loki's cheek. Once again Loki found himself for a loss of words. Slowly he began to back away, his mind running far to fast even for him. Trying to figure out why she had just done that, rather then focusing on the events around him. Somehow he had managed to make his way toward what Tony had deemed the starting line at the edge of the field surrounding the new Avenger's tower. Thor already being there, dancing on the tips of his toes, as Loki tried not to focus on his surrounding especially her. 

"Are you ready for this brother?"

"As ready as I could ever be."

"Good then appolgize if Stark might need to come and search for you in his iron suit."

"It will be you who shall need the searching brother."

"So you say."

"Now gods are you ready," Tony asked, as he interjected, causing both brothers to look at him, toy gun in his hand.

"Yes, now get on with it," Loki said in no mood for games, his mind still wondering about that kiss.

"Whatever you wish reindeer games. Ready, set," he started to say pausing for dramtic effect. "Jun." With a simple glow of his seidr another Loki appeared, as he began to run with Thor following towards it.

"Stop brother he didn't say run," he cried, only to land face first in dirt, mere inches away. At this Loki put his hand to his head, and let out a deep sigh.

"Are you never not going to fall for that?"

"You know you aren't supposed to use your seidr," Thor pointed out.

"Yes, but I do like seeing you fall."

"How cruel brother, now what would your lady say about that?"

"My lady."

"Yes, she is watching you after all," Thor pointed out and just as Loki saw her everything became a blur. As the next thing he remembered was tripping onto the ground as Thor disappeared off into the distance. Slowly did Loki's face began to become crimson once more. For not only had he fallen in front of the so-called avengers, but his love too. 

Oh how must she must think of me as an embrassement. This is what I get for trying to please someone as alluring and ravishing as her, he thought already down on himself. Yet rather then hear nothing instead Loki heard something else, as the next thing was one he yearned to hear.

"You can do it, Loki," she cried, out and only when hearing this voice did Loki start to get up. Slowly he began to jog, which turned into a run, as she kept repeating the words over and over. Almost louder each time, yet she wasn't the only one that kid they called Spiderman was also cheering alongside her, yet all Loki heard was her. As slowly he began to increase his speed, until he could no longer hear them. Perhaps he might not be able to beat Thor, but perhaps he could catch up with him. Quickly Loki ran like he never did before reminding himself of all those times that Thor had bested him, whether that be in the company of woman, contests, or even at Odin's praise. Each thought pushed Loki further and further, as he ran through the path that Tony had deemed. 

Until he was rounding his way back, yet as he got closer to the mark that Tony had deemed as the finish line, he swore he saw a familar bit of golden hair beneath a tree. It was only upon closer inspection that he saw it was Thor beneath the tree. While one might've expected Thor to sense Loki, sadly for Thor he didn't this day. Perhaps Thor had stayed up far to late or drank something that made him tired or something else, alas he didn't seem to wake as slowly Loki began to pass by him. Making his way towards the finish line, her voice still echoing in his mind. As with each time he repeated it, he was remainded just why he needed to finish this race, to see her. For perhaps those feelings that he thought was only one sided might not just be that. 

As Loki lingered closer to the finish line, his courage started to regain amongst himself, especially upon hearing her voice. Loki now on the edge of the finish line, at least until he saw a familar blur, edging closer and closer to him. Yet luckily for Loki this time, his hand just glazed the finish line just as the figure that Loki saw as Thor came into view. The moment that Loki crossed at line everything became second rate, as he felt a weight come on him. For the moment he felt her did everything truly open almost as if ever insecurity came second to her.

For the next thing he felt was her lips on his and he embraced it only speaking when they parted. "What was that for?"

"Someone had to make a move, and you weren't going to."

"So those kisses before the race," Loki asked, his brow slowly becoming quizicle, his eyes while lingering still bore into hers the best he could. For while he was more confident, not even she could rid of all his unsecurities.

"A way to encourage you," she beamed, her eyes boring into his, not even lingering down. For as long she was looking at him that was what mattered.

"Or was it to confuse me my minx?"

"So am I your minx now?"

"Perhaps you are, but whose to say," Loki said as his brow slowly rose down, his confidence slowly building up more. Trying to keep his heart from being more aflutter then it already was. Through she certainly didn't help with her next words.

"What do you suppose we do now?"

"Perhaps you could make a move."

"And what kind of move would you wish for me to make."

"And what move might that be, my dear," Loki asked, now confident enough to allow a smirk starting to creep on his face.

"You know excatly what move I mean."

"Do I?"

"Must you do this now?"

"Don't you like it when I do this?"

"I can't with you."

"Oh, but you can, so you either you can say it or I can."

"Ooh you who made me make the first move."

"That was one time, and next time you shall not be as quick."

"Won't I, because all I can tell is I am here awaiting for you to make move."

"A move you have yet to tell me."

"Never."

"Then I suppose you will have to go without my kiss," Loki said whispering the last part in particular.

"What did you just say?"

"You heard me."

"Did I, or perhaps have I misheard."

"Minx."

"Always."

"Must you when we are about to do what we will be doing?"

"And what might we do?"

"Kiss," Loki said far quicker and quieter then one might expect almost as if he was a virgin when he was far from one. 

"What was that again?"

"Nothing."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Then how about I suggest something?"

"And what might that be?"

"I say we kiss?"

"In front of everyone?"

"Why not, besides everyone should see who you belong to."

"I belong to you now?"

"Don't you, unless I am mistaken."

"You aren't."

"Good."

"Why were you jealous, of Fandral perhaps?"

"Of him never, I just like the thought of annoying Fandral."

"My what a minx I have."

"You know you love me."

"Don't I ever you enchanting minx," Loki said with a chuckle, and through this was unexpected, more unexpected than he could've ever thought. At this, Loki thought perhaps the Mischief Fox could win against the lion if he had his own kitten. Maybe it had always been there all along, but that thought was for another time, for all that mattered to Loki was that she was now in his arms, that the mischievous fox had finally found won and found home with her.

#loki fanfic #mr. tom hiddleston #tomhiddleston #tom hiddleston #loki marvel #loki request #loki x reader #loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #thor odinson #brodinsons #mcu loki #loki friggachild #loki friggason #strong female lead #stubborn loki #allegory #angst with fluff #angst with happy ending #Youtube

[nooowestayandgetcaught]

Fic: “Trapped In The Dark”

read on AO3

Fandom: Kim Possible (Cartoon)

Rating: T

Summary: "Come on out, Kimmy… let's finish this."

for @flashfictionfridayofficial​

for @femslashfeb​‘s Day 17 prompt “light”

for @febuwhump​​’s Day 17 prompt “silent tears”

for Femslash F*ckery’s Day 17 prompt “marking”

Within the darkness, Shego attacks, her energy strikes flashing like lightning.

Cave-dust enters Shego's nostrils. She hacks.

"Where are you…"

Shego brightens the energy-glow one of her raised hands. Her eyes shining, feral.

"Come on out, Kimmy…" she snarl-laughs. "Let's finish this."

In the glow, Shego notices a shadow shifting. Her grin turns vicious.

"Kiiiimmy…"

She jumps into where Kim must be hiding. Before anything else, there's a low, sharp intake of breath.

Shego frowns, lowering her green-glow swirling hand.

No, that's not right. There's Kim, and Kim doesn't get up from crouching down behind a boulder, not looking at Shego, occasionally touching the side of her visibly bleeding head. Worry in her eyes. 

Silent tears illuminate a gaunt-like green on Kim's features.

"Don't be such a baby. You're fine." 

Shego grabs her arm, forcing Kim to woozily stand up. 

For a moment, Shego feels where she burned Kim through her uniform-sleeve, marking her, damaging and softening the top layer of her flesh. 

Kim stifles a cry behind her lips, still silent. 

"Seriously… you've been in worse situations than this, haven't you? It's a stupid cave-in. Think your way out of it. You always do."

"Leave me alone…"

Shego groans, hating how defeated Kim sounds. She is, and clearly bleeding from a rock hitting her head, but it's Kim Possible.

A hero.

A hero doesn't give up.

"Fantastic," Shego says dryly, yanking on Kim's upper arm. "Guess I'm doing the thinking today."

*

The tunnels should have withstood any blast, foreign or Drakken-made.

Getting more and more irritated, Shego fires at the heavy and fallen stalactites broken at their feet. Her fingers constantly glowing.

It's the only light so far.

The only way to navigate out of here…

"I can't believe this…" she mutters, glaring at Kim a few feet behind her.

Besides the gigantic bloody cut, Shego doesn't think Kim's suffered a concussion during all of this. She's not acting woozy anymore. Her legs unshaking. Kim's tears already have dried up, much to Shego's relief… that she refuses to admit was ever there. Hell no.

"Would you hurry it up, princess? I'm not gonna carry you." Shego complains, watching Kim avoid more rocks, "Heroing is your shtick."

"You could just go ahead without me, Shego—"

"—don't tempt me," Shego cuts a now bewildered Kim off, jerking her head.

*

When there's a patch of light, Shego 'woops!' in victory.

"Stay back," she orders, gently pushing Kim aside—and shockingly enough, Kim listens and does what she's told without being snarky.

If only this happened more often…

Shego projects her bright green-glow energy into the crack of the tunnel's siding, erupting it open.

Behind them, that tunnel completely collapses.

She looks around, finding a truck parked nearby in sunlight and a cavernous opening to fresh air. "I'd offer a ride, Kimmy, but…" Shego winks, delighted by Kim's familiar eye-roll "…as they say, finders keepers." 

Disappearing for a moment, Shego lugs out the truck's medical kit.

"You can have this though."

"Gee, thanks," Kim mumbles. 

In the light, Shego can see the blood dampening Kim's orangeish hair. She clears her throat awkwardly. This is her nemesis… why does it matter if she's hurt?

"If I see Stoppable, I'll send him your way."

The engine roars on.

Kim opens her mouth, and Shego mockingly wags a finger—

"—ah, ah, pretend this NEVER happened or I'll barbecue you alive when I see you next—"

From the rear-view mirror, she spots Kim waving.

It's new.

Whatever this is.

#kim possible #kigo #femslash #femslash february #femslash february 2023 #femslashfeb2023 #femslash feb 2023 #febuwhump #febuwhump2023 #febuwhump 2023 #dark femslash #femslash fuckery #femslashfuckery #shego #shego kim possible #kim x shego #shego x kim #femslash fic #femslash fanfic

[dear-mrs-otome]

Silvio Ricci - Your Fault I'm So Horknee Event - Sweet End

Standard Disclaimer: I do this for fun. I don’t, and never would, claim to be proficient at JP. There will be mistakes herein. There will be dialogue I choose to smooth out or change, because it feels choppy just straight translating. There will be the occasional snarky aside and irreverence and just plain summarizing. If you’re looking for 100% pure accuracy, without commentary or localizing, this is not for you. If you don’t mind that…then proceed, and I hope you enjoy! And please, support your local localizer (they make this stuff look easy) and Cybird by playing the games and routes when they come to English.

Note: This story event, like others recently, requires one to finish the Sweet End before the Premium can be chosen. The Premium is an expansion on and slight continuation of the events of the Sweet, but from the suitor POV - as is the epilogue. This post contains the Sweet end, I will post the Premium and the Epilogue separately.

~~~~~~~~

Daily life is different in many ways, ever since Emma came to live in Benitoite as Silvio’s lover - but foremost of all perhaps is how she now helps Silvio with his daily duties.

Walking down the corridor one morning, Silvio asks after the contract he’d asked her for their last day working, and she tells him it’s already done and she’d like to have him review it the next time he gets a moment. 

“Nice work. That was faster than I expected,” he tells her on a smile, putting a hand on her head and tousling her hair.

Half of her is annoyed at having her hairstyle messed up…but the other, larger half, is enjoying the feeling. When he praises her like that, it only makes her want to try harder.

He’s not only helped her train her manners and the things she needs to know to survive in the upper echelon of society, but has lately begun letting her assist him with his official duties. Maybe to the outside observer it looks like she’s being bullied by a tyrant, just as she’d been back in Rhodolite…but for her this is a great honor, given how she’d hoped to make herself useful. Wanting to be someone worth their salt if she’s to stay with Silvio.

She knows she has to try even harder, if she wants to be the consort of the prince and next king. 

…But lately, there’s been an problem.

~~~~~~~~

In his room that night after dinner, they’re lounging on the sofa and relaxing when Silvio abruptly states that he’s going to the shipyard for an inspection tomorrow, and asks if she wants to come. She eagerly accepts, having been curious about one of Benitoite’s main industries (shipbuilding) and knowing it’s one of Silvio’s particular areas of focus, and tells him she’s looking forward to it a great deal.

“You’re interested in everything, aren’t you?” he observes. “The only people willing to go to a shipyard are either children or you.”

“Really?” she asks. “I’d just like to know everything there is to know about you.”

“...You really think that?” he replies, turning pink. 

She asks him if he’s all shy now, and that gets an indignant sputter out of him, grabbing her head and calling her a fool, but she can see he’s red faced and smiling.

She can’t go without knowing anything about ships though, she tells him. She needs to hurry up and arm herself with the powah of KNOWLEDGE, and she shoots to her feet ready to go track some down on the spot, telling him she’s heading to the library for info when he asks where she’s going.

“No need,” he tells her bluntly, grabbing her hand and pulling her onto his lap, trapping her in his arms where his delightful, exotic cologne surrounds her. “If you know the basics of shipbuilding and how it relates to the royal family, that should be enough.”

“Are you going to teach me?” she asks.

His smile fades. “It’s quicker than reading some book. Nobody said you could go anywhere.”

“Ah, I get it,” she says, translating Silvioese. “You don’t want me to leave you all alone.”

He protests that he just didn’t like the fact she was looking to turn to a book rather than him, his eyes soft despite the irritated way he ruffles her hair. Her poor heart doing little somersaults at that, prompting her to hug him to distract herself from it. Finding the way he startles and jumps absolutely freaking adorable. 

“I’m always having to tell you the same thing - don’t surprise me like that,” he grumbles.

“And I’m always having to tell you to hurry up and get used to it,” she fires back. 

“Don’t be sassy. And don’t tell me what to do.”

“Well in that case, I’ll just be going back to my room,” she threatens. He falls silent, looking unhappy, and she flails to take it back. “I’m just kidding, don’t make such a sour face.”

Maybe she got carried away, she thinks,  and she brings herself back to focus. Abandoning their little squabble and getting back to business. She tells him that she’s not totally in the dark about shipbuilding - she knows it’s Benitoite’s main industry and one that Silvio’s been working hard to prop up and invest in, which is why she’s been studying it.

This has him laughing, clearly in a good mood as he praises her for always getting shit done no matter how cheeky she is - and in his low, pleasing voice he starts explaining to her more of the details. She stays focused, listening, but her heart keeps pounding at the occasional breath that grazes her skin.

This must be what happiness is, she thinks with satisfaction. These are the moments she never wants to let go of...and to make sure of that, she has to do her best tomorrow.

But sometimes what we want and what actually happens are sadly different.

~~~~~~~~

The next day they arrive at the best of Benitoite’s shipyards, where she and Silvio draw the attention of many people besides their guides. Mostly her though, it seems. She’s used to being the subject of appraising stares, from her time as Belle in Rhodolite, but it feels even more intense here in Benitoite. 

She wonders if they’re trying to gauge whether she is useful or not, what her worth is. Silvio is the richest man not just in Benitoite, but the entire continent. People offer him all sorts of things, hoping to entice him to invest in their endeavors - if she’s deemed important to him, then it’s only a matter of time before they see if she can be used for that aim. She’s seen this first-hand already, with how strangely eager some people are to cozy up to her despite having only just met them.

That’s been social gatherings so far, but the problem comes when…

The moment the man who is acting as their guide presents her as the lady of rumor, she’s shielded behind a broad back. 

“Don’t stare,” Silvio warns, and the man hastily apologizes. 

That’s exactly what she knew he’d do - everyone’s gazes hastily turning elsewhere at the terrifying expression on Silvio’s face. She’s lost track of how many times this has happened, denied the chance to greet everyone properly whenever she’s with Silvio. She knows it’s not necessarily that he wants to hide her from everyone, not with him bringing her along on the inspection.

“Silvio…” She pokes him in the back so he knows she disapproves. 

He trembles slightly, and turns red. “Cut that out, don’t touch me.”

“Well then - mph!?” She doesn’t even get to finish her sentence before he’s clapped a hand over her mouth and pulled her into his firmly-muscled chest, to her disbelief. 

Turning to address everyone gathered, he says that if they know who she is there’s no need to introduce her. And then he swiftly shifts the topic back to the work on the new ships, the shipyard worker awkwardly agreeing that things are progressing well and that he’s glad to hear Silvio will attend the upcoming launch party of the newest vessel.

Silvio waves it off as part and parcel of his duties, and informs them he’ll be bringing her along as well. 

There’s bound to be a ton of people there, she knows, but she’s a little worried about how he’ll act given he doesn’t want any men seeing her. 

“Make a big deal of it,” he instructs them, saying how it’ll be the first formal function he’s ever attended with a woman, and they assure him they will and that many people will be thrilled. They move on with the tour and inspection…but every time Silvio snarls at those who look at her a little too long, she’s ready to facepalm.

~~~~~~~~

Once done, in the carriage on the way back, she confronts him about his behavior. He’s silent and avoiding her eyes, so she knows he’s not clueless about what he’s done, and she presses him on something that she’s suspected for awhile now. “You’re the jealous type.”

A startled Silvio insists she’s got it all wrong… but to her, jealousy or possessiveness is the only explanation that makes any sense for why he’s so quick to threaten anyone who tries to get closer to her.

Maybe it’s just that he doesn’t like her talking to other men, or some such.

“If you disagree, then quit threatening everyone,” she tells him. “If it keeps up, I’ll just be dead weight holding you back.” She knows she can’t stay hidden behind his back forever, and if things don’t change she’ll be cut off from social circles in Benitoite too. 

“I’m not gonna to be dragged down by that,” he scoffs…and then complains about the fact that she moved to the seat across from him when he’d specifically sat beside her - that hardly seems fair when she got to touch him a bunch earlier.

She tells him that if he refuses to take her concerns seriously and change his mind on this, she’s got an idea…a statement he greets with a scowl. But she knows things have to change, they can’t go on as they are, so she’s willing to harden her heart. 

“You’re not allowed to touch me until you change your attitude!” she declares.

(Silvio’s desire level: 70)

She lets go of his hand, and a deep scowl carves itself between Silvio’s brows as he accuses her of coming up with another crazy thing to say.

“I’m serious,” she insists. “Why exactly is it you’re so worried about me talking to other men?” He refuses to answer, and she tries pleading her case. “I love you, so very much.” She moves to sit next to him, hugging him tightly.

Flustered, he asks what happened to the touching ban, and she explains that it’s okay if she does the touching. But he’s not allowed to. He complains that that seems awfully convenient and doesn’t seem inclined to follow it - so the moment she feels his hand start to move, she quickly puts space between them. 

“You’re the only man I see, Silvio,” she reminds him. 

“It’s not that I’m jealous,” he argues. 

She asks why it is he won’t let her talk to anyone then, but he refuses to give her a straight answer to that. Trying to give her a vague reply that she points out isn’t a real answer, until he gets frustrated and warns her not to try and go behind his back on this. His hand reaching for her almost automatically, before he snatches it back in frustration.

It’s all around not good, and she knows she’s got to do something to resolve this before the launch ceremony where everyone will be gathered. 

~~~~~~~~

The next day dawns as blue and clear as the sea below, and as she’s looking out her window there’s a knock at her door. Silvio strolls in, with an entourage of elegantly-dressed women. 

“It’s for the dress you’re going to wear. Order it however you like,” he explains, as the modiste eagerly agrees that she’ll tailor the dress to Emma’s tastes.

She hadn’t expected to have a bespoke dress made just for the launch ceremony, and while she’s still stunned the elderly modiste sets her assistants into motion taking measurements. But she knows that she can’t very well stand up there beside Silvio and not look fitting for the occasion, or else it’ll reflect poorly on him. 

“I…don’t know much about dresses, so I don’t know what kind would be appropriate…” she admits. 

Silvio advises that for a launch ceremony  it would be better to wear a dress that’s easy to move around in, rather than something incredibly elaborate, and that she’ll want to keep in mind the fact that they’ll be on board a ship and the wind can easily pick up breezy fabrics.

“Then let us make it out of a heavier fabric,” the dressmaker agrees. 

“Also, everyone knows you’re from Rhodolite. How about wearing something with roses on it?” Silvio suggests.

“Is that okay, at an official Benitoite event?” she asks. 

He grins and asks what’s the problem with showing off an allied country’s speciality. “Besides, it’d be best to dress up in whatever way you prefer.”

She’s still amazed by how different of a man he is than when they’d first met, and stunned by how considerate he is of her despite his tyrannical exterior. He sobers, and asks what’s with her expression - starting to reach for her when she comes to her senses. 

“Nope!” she exclaims, stepping back. 

“That thing from yesterday is still going on?” he frowns.

She tells him it totally is, she’s not giving in that easily. He starts to reply, when their bickering is  interrupted by the modiste. “I’d heard the rumors, but you really are close aren’t you?”

She’s a little embarrassed to realize it was so obvious, but Silvio just grins. “She’s got it bad for me.”

“Not even you can go putting words into people’s mouths,” she fires right back, and the dressmaker bursts into laughter. 

It’s a moment as idyllic as the lovely weather outside…but…

“By the way, the lady -” the modiste begins.

“Enough chit-chat.” Silvio bluntly cuts the conversation off and reminds her they're short on time. "Money's no object, I want your best and fastest work."

"... Certainly." The dressmaker agrees, chastised.

Why?? is all Emma can wonder. Why's he being like this even with a woman now? It seems clear he doesn't want anyone to have anything to do with her beyond the most surface of interactions. She'd accused him of doing so out of jealousy yesterday and he denied it, all embarrassed…but if this attitude of his is extending even to women, maybe there is some other reason.

What is it she's missing here?

The women from the dressmaker's all get back to work, silently now that they're cowed by his air…and it's the most awkward thing ever.

~~~~~~~~

That evening she's outside with Silvio after his duties are finished up, where the setting sun has dyed the pool a lovely shade of red.

He's silent - definitely still in a bad mood, she recognizes. Wearing the same frown he has been since the dressmaker's visit.

"Silvio."

He jerks to attention at her calling his name, and she takes advantage of the unguarded opening to brace a hand on his shoulder and press a kiss to his cheek.

"What are you trying to do?" he sputters, red-faced.

"You looked grumpy. It's a kiss to make it all better," she tells him. A proven Silvio strategy before.

He complains that she's taking all sorts of liberties after implementing her no-touchy  ban, and she admits that maybe she misses him doing so more than she thought she would.

He smirks. "Well in that case-"

"But I'm not breaking it!" she warns him, earning a frustrated tongue click.

She tells him that the way things are going she'll never get to talk to anyone, and asks if he's trying to keep her cut off from everyone.

He grins that that wouldn't be so bad maybe - lock her in a mansion somewhere and never ever let her out again.

"Then I'd never be with you, would I?" she points out, secretly pleased at how his expression turns unhappy at that.

"I don't like it," he begins, and when she presses him to elaborate on that…

They're interrupted by her stomach growling. Loudly. And they’re both staring at each other as she’s wtf at her own belly, mortified. Clutching it as she sinks down on the spot, all while Silvio’s shoulders are shaking and he’s biting back laughter.

Silvio starts to say something, but she cuts him off. “Pretend that never happened!”

“Ha, don’t order me around,” he laughs. “I’m in trouble if you’re so cute.”

She’s still stunned by his little addition when he come to kneel down in front of her, reaching for her cheek…but she’s still cognizant of her NO TOUCH ban and she leaps back. Only souring his mood even further. 

“Quit that,” he orders, to her surprise. “As long as you keep up with your attitude, I won’t explain anything either.”

She starts to protest and he tells her that if she doesn’t like that idea, just let him touch her…and then smirks, leaving her reeling at his next words. “Although I don’t know if it’ll be just a touch, if you get what I mean?”

(Silvio’s desire level: 90)

~~~~~~~~

Sweet End

Every step Silvio prowls towards her, she takes another one back. Still determined to stick to her guns, because she’s convinced that nothing will change if she doesn’t…but then again, if she doesn’t know why he’s doing it, they can’t fix it. As she wavers, his ocean eyes pierce her, ablaze with heat. Throat working as he stares at her, as if visibly thirsting for something. 

And she knows he wasn’t exaggerating- if she let him touch her here, that alone really might not be enough.

Coming to a decision finally, she darts in when he reaches out again and tickles his side mercilessly. 

“You…what the…what are you doing?! Knock that off, idiot!” he splutters.

“I’m standing by the no-touching!” she declares.

“Okay alright, I get it! So stop it!” He chokes out around his laughter. “Stop tickling me!”

It doesn’t escape her notice that despite crying with laughter at her tickle torture, he still respects her no-touching. Not making a move to grab her. And when she finally stops, he stands a wary distance away. 

“Do you…hate being touched by me that much?” he asks.

That’s totally not the case, she tells him - though she admits to herself that she’s mildly terrified about what will happen when she does lift the ban. She reminds him that if neither of them bend on this it’s pointless, and he agrees - which is why she should give up, he says.

“Not gonna,” she says flatly, and he scowls. The both of them glaring in silence as she wonders how long they can keep going around and around about this. Sighing at this entrenched battle with no end in sight. 

~~~~~~~~

Neither of them budge, and nothing changes after that. Time marches on, until it’s the day of the launch ceremony. 

She’s amazed by how many people are in attendance, and Silvio reminds her this project was enormous, and definitely a big deal to celebrate. In a country that is built on the back of ships just like this, launching one is a good omen the entire country will laud. It’s not just the people involved in the project gathered either, there’s even a healthy number of commoners taking part in the festivities. 

“I heard that most of the investment on this ship was your doing,” she says to him. 

He confirms that, explaining how advancing shipbuilding is in the country’s national interest and not the place to be borrowing funds.

She wonders if that’s why she’s been getting all the stares and attention. Not everyone is looking at them, but there’s no denying that Silvio definitely stands out. And some of that inevitably spills over onto her, keeping her on edge. Even after taking their seats for the ceremony, gazes are always following her.

She keeps a smile plastered on her face, so no one can tell how uncomfortable she is, and the man seated beside her looks over and makes eye contact.

“Oh, what’s this? Maybe you’re the one all these rumors are about…”

She wonders if he knows Silvio, and she politely introduces herself.  The man does the same, and tells her his name is Dario - he’s one of Silvio’s fellow sea voyagers.

“Haven’t seen you in awhile…and it looks like there’s more of you now,” Silvio ribs on a grin.

Dario splutters. “It’s all muscle, thank you very much. Not that I’ve gotten fat.”

“Suspiciously hasty with that,” Silvio observes. “Remember my girl here’s face. Touch her and I’ll drown you at sea.”

Dario assures him he understands very well. “But Prince Silvio, having a woman at his side…”

Silvio tells him to shut it, and Dario warns him that if he’s got too bad of a mouth he might fall out of favor with his lady.

“It’s alright. Silvio’s a man who loves very deeply, and I know he’s just embarrassed,” she assures Dario easily.

Dario seems impressed by her generous heart and keen eye, saying he’d expect no less of the future queen. 

“You…” Silvio says warningly, but that’s all…and she notes that’s odd in and of itself. Normally his mood would have soured and he would have cut the conversation off entirely by now, but he seems perfectly fine with Dario and her chatting.

What’s different?

She compares the three of them in her head - the shipyard employee, the dressmaker, and Silvio’s sailing comrade. And a possibility finally hits her.

Silvio seems to notice the way she sits up, and he asks what it is, but she waves it off as nothing. Deciding to herself though that it’s worth testing out her idea.

~~~~~~~~

After the ship is successfully launched, there’s a party held on board. It’s not leaving port yet, but her elegant deck is laden with a luxurious spread of food to thank everyone involved in the project. And over the course of the meet and greets, her suspicion is confirmed.

“You’re too overprotective, Silvio,” she says to him.

He asks where that came from, out of the blue, and she says she finally realizes why it is he won’t let her talk to people. He barks a laugh and says he’ll indulge her and hear this out…and she’s confident in her inference after the conversations that have taken place on board. 

“You don’t want anyone to use me,” she states, and his smile falls as he remains wordless.

Bullseye, she thinks. His expression and silence saying it all. “You don’t step in and try to hide me unless someone starts being nosy about me.”

It’s what she’d noticed about the shipyard worker and the dressmaker too, that they seemed to have been testing the waters of her, judging her usefulness, when he’d spoken up. But Dario hadn’t been doing that…and paying attention at the party it’s been easy for her to pick up on who falls into one camp or the other - and how Silvio reacts.

“...It bothers me,” he admits. “All they care about is taking advantage of you.” He says he knows that’s partly just how the business world works, but he hates the idea of everything being about money when it comes to her. “Relationships built on money are hollow.”

She was right then - it never was about jealousy or being possessive, in the end. Silvio knows quite well what a horrid thing connections centered all around money can be, and it’s clear he desperately wants to spare her all that unpleasantness. 

She’s in real trouble, having a man who’s such a tyrant and yet overprotective and kind at the same time. But she can’t rely on his kindness forever. “Then I have to stand on my own two feet.”

He seems surprised, and she tries to explain that she’s got to be charming enough to build relationships where what can be gained or lost doesn’t matter. She knows that what he values from her is not monetary, but of the heart…and she knows that if he keeps trying to shelter her in that mentality, she’ll never be able to truly stand beside him.

She tells him that she doesn’t want him to think that the only sorts of connections she can build if she’s around him are those based on money….and promises to do her best to show him otherwise, so that he can rest assured.

Silvio smiles. “Yeah, that sass is like you. You’d better come through on this, or I really won’t let you talk to anyone.”

“That’s what I plan on…thank you for being concerned,” she tells him. “But I’m not as weak as you think I am, am I?”

“I know that…” he admits. “But…I still don’t have it quite figured out.” She asks what he means by that, and he concedes that he isn’t sure how to handle things when it comes to her. When to spoil her and when to let her tough it out. 

That’s another side of him she adores…and she assures him she doesn’t mind a bit of tough love and struggle - she won’t be swayed, and she won’t let him down!

“Is that so…” His cheeks are pink. “Then I’ll stop coddling you. I’m going to be tough on you.”

He reaches out for her, sea blue eyes searing her with intense longing, and purely by reflex she takes a step back…much to his great displeasure, and she’s thinking oh shit, didn’t mean to do that.

“I said I’d stop babying you, the ban should be lifted,” Silvio protests.

“Yeah, I didn’t mean to run away either,” she agrees.

“Then don’t.” 

Frustrated, he closes the distance between them and she backs up again. Frankly a bit unnerved by the look in his eyes, probably due to how long it’s been - the one that says he’d kiss her the moment he got his hands on her. And she knows it won’t be some cute, chaste smooch, it’ll be one searing enough to have her on her guard.

“W-we’re on a ship!” she points out. “Everyone can see us?!”

“What’s the problem? You’re my woman,” Silvio matter-of-factly proclaims. 

She points out how embarrassing it’ll be…but rather than giving up, Silvio tries to push her up against the wall as she flails out more protests. But he’s unmoved, telling her she started all this, it’s her job to hurry up and finish it. Still shutting him down, she ducks his advances.

“Hey! Don’t run away, let me touch you!” Silvio says furiously.

“You can touch me all you want back in your room!” she argues.

“No, now,” he insists. 

Completely forgetting that they’re in the middle of a party on board, the chase begins - and plenty of guests are looking on in astonishment. Emma’s torn between which is the least of two embarrassing options…but she’s so desperate to run away, she soon forgets all about the stares.

(Silvio’s desire level: 110)

~~~~~~~~~~

Premium End >>

#spoiler #spoilers #ikemen prince spoilers #ikepri spoilers #mrs o loves salty seadogs #mrs o's translations of dubious quality #ikepri jp summary

[musclesandhammering]

aside from anderson cooper do you mind giving us your Thoughts on other pundits/journalists?

Oooh boy. I love you for indulging my 2 decade-old hyperfixation.

Well first off, I don’t actually watch much legacy media for news purposes. They all have the same corporate slant and, while I don’t hold it against the individual pundits/journalists, I’m aware that the info they’re presenting is highly cherry-picked and biased toward the establishment and teaming with false neutrality bs so.. you know.

I got started watching cnn because I remembered being a little kid and seeing Anderson Cooper on tv when my parents were watching Katrina coverage or whatever. So I started watching him and then went back and watched some older stuff etc so… he was the initial deal. I just sort of started following other pundits for fun because of their proximity to him.

Also, disclaimer that I strongly prefer his older tv persona (war reports, snarkiness, grunge aesthetic, etc) and most of the PRT fandom content I’ve found has been from like 2005-2010 anyway so… most of these opinions are based on an outdated media sphere lol.

With all that being said…

When it comes to semi-modern stuff, I love the whole cnn crew. I think they’d be hilarious in a mocumentary a la The Office or something. John Berman is the funniest guy on the network and Jake Tapper has the best deadpan. Don Lemon was annoying and endearing at the same time. I never liked Chris Cuomo. He seemed pretension and way too dudebro-ish.

As far as PRT people specifically, Stephen Colbert is an absolute treasure. He’s ridiculously smart and quick witted but he’s never needlessly harsh like some late night hosts. I like him now better than when he was on The Colbert Report because he doesn’t have to play a character all the time and can just outright say what he feels.

Jon Stewart is probably the most progressive host on mainstream tv, which of course makes him delightful. He also has a way of calling out mainstream journalists without making it personal. And I still remember the time he went on Crossfire and humiliated Tucker Carlson <3.

Rachel Maddow seems like the coolest person in the room at all times and she’s so incredibly smart. But she has this thing where she seems to recognise (and call out) the conservative tendencies of other networks like cnn without realising that msnbc is no better when it comes to corporatism, upholding the status quo, and being anti-progressive. In fact, that’s something everybody on msnbc does, not just her. But I still have a soft spot for her though.

Keith Olbermann is the guy that used to be outspoken leftist champion in the very early 2000s- getting righteously angry when other dems were obsessed with decorum, clapping back at Fox pundits who tried to smear him, and saying things the dem establishment didn’t always want said. But somewhere between then and now he revealed himself to be a weird, immature, somewhat narcissistic asshole who can’t take any criticism and has somehow morphed into a centrist defender. It’s one of the most disappointing downfalls of the fandom. But despite all that, I still think of the day msnbc fired him as a national tragedy.

And I’m glad he got what was coming to him, but from a rpf perspective, I miss when Bill O’Reilly was the main villain 😂.

#this was so fun anon thanks for giving me an outlet #PRT #PRT fandom #pundit round table #rpf #real news fandom #fake news fandom #Anderson cooper #keith olbermann #Rachel Maddow #stephen colbert #jon stewart #oh to go back to 2007 #actually you know what it was probably just as sucky back then #but it was the golden era of tv news punditry so I see it with rose colored glasses #anon #ask

[mercerislandbooks]

With Twice the Love, Dessie Mei: A Conversation with Justina Chen

Island Books is delighted to host our longtime friend and author, Justina Chen, for the release of her brand-new middle grade novel, With Twice the Love, Dessie Mei, on Tuesday, May 7th at 6:30pm. Not only is this inspirational and heartfelt book set in Seattle, but it's also filled with characters that bring home the issues of our times.

I loved this book from start to finish. Dessie Mei has always known she's adopted from China. When her family has to move to Seattle to help a grandparent with memory issues transition into assisted living, she is uprooted in the middle of the school year to a new school. Hopeful that making a new friend in 6th grade won't be too hard, imagine Dessie Mei's surprise when she walks into her first classroom and finds a girl who looks EXACTLY like her. Donna is also adopted, and the two form an immediate bond. They look so much alike that they can't help but wonder... are they twins?

With that intriguing start I was completely hooked, and I’m so glad Justina Chen was able to take the time to sit down with me and talk about her wonderful new book!

Lori: Welcome Justina! I absolutely loved With Twice the Love, Dessie Mei. Can you tell us about the inspiration for your book?

Justina: My beloved Mama—who we lost a few months ago—was such a beautiful force of community. I saw that in the way she embraced my two stepdaughters who were adopted from China into a white family. She scooped them to her heart. So when one of my dear friends told me in close conversation that she and her daughter—both adopted, one from Korea, the other from China—had never felt welcome in the Asian American community, well, that was a dagger in my heart. With the rise of anti-Asian violence, the need to write this story became urgent. We’ve become so good at calling people out at a time when we must be exceptional at calling people into community. That’s the heart of this book. I hope that every reader who picks up With Twice the Love, Dessie Mei knows with utter conviction at the Mama-level that: YOU BELONG.

L: I love that, “calling people into community.” I really saw that as I read. You are delving into quite a few challenging topics. What was the hardest part to write?

J: I knew I was handling the most sensitive material in my entire writing career: adoption and adoptees. So I listened intently to the people I love most in the world who are adopted. I found a counselor who’s adopted and who works with a number of adolescent adoptees. She gave me an incredible reading list, and from there, I dove into abandonment and belonging, complex PTSD and attachment theory, identity-formation and community-building. It was important to me that adoptees were represented in my entire team: my agenting team to my editorial team, including my authenticity reader.

L: As a reader, it was so rich to see the contrast between Dessie Mei and Donna’s adoptions, in a way that made clear everyone has a unique experience; there’s no one “right” way. So, what was the easiest part to write?

J: The story itself came to me in a flash: I knew the emotional throughline. I heard the characters and I saw the plot so clearly, I wrote the first draft in an eight-day fever dream. Aside from North of Beautiful, words have never poured out of me that fast. So fast, my fingers could barely keep up with the paragraphs that were falling out of me fully formed. Of course, the second draft took a good year to write. In that draft, I had to make sure that every word was nuanced, every sentence finessed, every idea stood on solid research. L: The care you took with your polishing really shows. I loved that you said in your author’s note that this was the book you wrote for your 10-year old self — I've read your YA and wonder if you could talk about the difference in voice between writing YA and writing Middle Grade?

J: Such a good question! In my mind, the YA voice can be snarky, but the MG voice is sassy. There is a delightful indomitability in that middle grade voice that I relish—and as a grown woman who is still growing, I strive to recapture and live that middle grade spirit. L: That is a good distinction! I can see that in Dessie Mei: she really has a willingness to try to find a way, no matter the circumstances. The title of your book is so distinct, can you share how you came to it and the meaning of "with twice the love"?

J: It took forever and a day to come up with the title, and that phrase represents so much. The long-lost twins. The love of all their different families. The expansiveness of love itself. And of course, for Dessie, it is the perfect sign-off to an important and brave open letter she writes.

Thank you so much Justina!

Join us on Tuesday May 7th at 6:30pm to see Justina Chen in conversation with Shari Leid and celebrate the publication of With Twice the Love, Dessie Mei!

— Lori

#island books #lori robinson #Justina chen #With twice the Love Dessie mei #Author event #middle grade reads

[iamembarrased]

II. Trapped in Amber

First Day at Rehab!

@readergirlstuff tagged as you asked c:

Tags: Baking, show and tell, bugs, explosions, arguing, Alastor being a pest.

Notes: formatting on tumblr mobile is god awful.

【1st Chapter】 【2nd Chapter】 【3rd Chapter】

【★】

In the morning, Amber explored her new wardrobe, courtesy of Alastor. She was impressed at the selection, not thinking the Radio Demon would have good tastes in lady’s apparel, the modern world would call it ‘vintage.’ She frowned at the thought that she was considered vintage.

Although she appreciated the wardrobe, most dresses had a similar problem: there wasn’t room for her wings. Usually she would default to exposed shoulder or open back dresses to accommodate the bat wings, a very small amount of these clothes would actually fit her.

With a quick glance over her shoulder, as if to confirm no one was in her room, Amber took her quill and ran the tip of it along the neckline of a particularly gorgeous red dress. The back of the dress lowered by her command, the fibers weaving in and out to suit her wishes.

Amber left her room with a wide smile, happy to wear something she can call her own. Something Velvette didn’t have a hand in designing. Something she wasn’t expecting to get blood on.

She entered the foyer, surprised to find there wasn’t any breakfast prepared for the guests. Aside from peanuts in a bowl on the bar, there was no food in sight. Angel and Husker both snacked silently on the peanuts.

Husker didn’t even turn to look her way as she approached, in fact his eyes weren’t open as he nursed his hangover with peanuts and a bloody mary.

Angel must have sensed her confusion, he huffed as she neared. “This ain’t like the hotels you’re used to, toots. No chefs and no twinky little bellboys to bring food to your door.”

“We have food in the fridge.” Vaggie’s voice came from the top of the foyer stairs, she descended with a yawn. “We technically have Niffty as our cook, but last time she made dinner she put worms in the meatloaf, so she’s not cooking for us right now." Vaggie grimaced. "Sorry, we’re still working out the finer details.”

”Ya' call feeding your guests and staff, ‘finer details’?” Angel mocked.

”Hey! I said we have food!” Vaggie crossed her arms. “Anyway, have you seen Charlie?”

Angel scoffed and ignored her question. “Food, yeah, right. Only thing in that fridge is popsicles and eggs.”

”We have more than that!”

Amber listened to them bicker for a few moments, delighting in the snarky come-backs Angel had and the building frustration in Vaggie. After a few moments, Amber made her way to the kitchen. She could smell someone baking.

“Good morn- WAIT!” Charlie cried out when she spotted Amber walking in, attempting to hide what she was doing, only to slip and fall flat on her ass. She preciously held a bowl of white liquid in her arms, not a drop spilled. “Oh man, it was supposed to be a surprise!”

Amber got closer, the smile on her face widening when she saw Charlie baked a cake. The cake itself looked and smelled nice, however Charlie clearly had no patience as she had stacked the double vanilla layers without waiting for it to cool down, the watery icing in between had caused the top layer of cake to shift and the frosting melted off the sides. It’s sad to look at, really.

“I know I’m supposed to wait until the cake cools, but I wasn’t sure what time you wake up, and I woke up late today, and I had to go shopping, and I was panicking and-”

Amber held up a finger to her own lips to shush Charlie from rambling on.

Although the cake was intended to be a surprise for Amber- she couldn’t stop herself from taking over the task, delegating Charlie to cut some fruits and make coffee. Amber took care of scraping the icing off the cake, thickening the icing as Charlie had put too much milk in it, and decorating the cake once it was cooled properly.

With Charlie’s fruits on the top it made the cake look healthier, something one can eat for breakfast if you squint hard enough.

”Hooray! Teamwork!” Charlie giggled and brought out a piping bag with orange frosting. “Now, the finishing touch!”

When the cake was presented to the ‘full’ lobby, it was met with wide eyes, the sloppy orange letters that read “Welcome Amber!!!” didn’t quite match the level of detail Amber had put on the rest of the cake - though it looked appetizing nonetheless. As it was placed on the bar, everyone gathered to get a slice.

”Well, I can tell where Charlie helped.” Vaggie smirked, eyeing the sloppy orange letters.

“I baked the cake, but the rest was all Amber. She’s amazing!” Charlie beamed.

Alastor hummed from behind Amber. He didn’t take a slice, only holding his hands behind his back and watching. ”Yes, she does look quite appetizing.” He eyed the back of her dress, not remembering this particular one being an open back.

Amber didn’t know if she should take the comment literally or flirtatiously. Considering his large, sharp teeth, she wondered if he came from cannibal town.

Vaggie rolled her eyes. “Al don’t eat our guests, I’ve seen what your meals consist of.”

“Oh, he can eat me any time.” Angel had wiped some frosting off his cake slice with his finger and very sensually licked it off, making sure to make direct contact with Alastor.

Alastor laughed and quickly said, “No.”

“So, Amber.” Charlie quickly changed the subject before Angel could make any more sexual remarks. “You can’t talk, right?”

Amber nodded.

Nifty crawled on to the counter to stab at the leftover cake. ”Can you read?”

Another nod.

”My dear, of course, a refined lady like this knows how to read.” Alastor’s voice came from directly above Amber’s head. If he lowered himself ever so slightly, he would be resting his chin in her hair.

Amber felt very tempted to twitch her ears and bat him in the face, though she wasn’t sure how he would take that, so she sat still as if he wasn't hovering over her.

“Do you have a phone?” Charlie reached in her pocket and pulled out her cell phone.

When the phone faced Amber, she jumped back, accidentally bumping into Alastor. He recoiled, not expecting her sudden response. She turned back instinctively to see what Alastor was doing so close. He adjusted his bow tie and dusted non-existent dirt off his jacket as if nothing had happened.

In response to Charlie’s question, Amber shook her head no. Angel raised an eyebrow. He distinctly remembered that she had a phone the last time he saw her, not to mention anyone who worked for Vox required one.

”No phone? Well, if you’re out of the hotel, how should we get in contact with you?”

”Bat signal?” Angel suggested.

”Or how about postmail?” Alastor suggested.

Amber took her parchment out and wrote, “I don’t plan on leaving the hotel.”

Charlie’s smile turned sideways. “Oh, you don’t need to do that! We’re not holding you prisoner. You can come and go whenever.”

Amber shook her head and underlined her statement, adding on, “I ask that you don’t make me leave the hotel, I would very much like to stay inside.”

”Ooookaayyyy.” Charlie shrugged. “Is there a reason?”

Amber nodded, folded her hands in her lap, and smiled - clearly not willing to give a reason.

“I know why!” Niffty raised her hand. “It’s dirty outside!”

Amber shrugged. If that’s the narrative they wanted to go with, she would have no qualms with it.

”Anyway, I was going to text you earlier that today's activity is show and tell, but, well, you don’t have a phone." Charlie said. "I’m sure you can come up with something after everyone else goes!”

Vaggie hummed. “She doesn’t have a lot of time to prepare. Maybe she should sit this one out.”

”No, it’s fine!” Charlie exclaimed and began ushering everyone to the parlor, regardless if they finished their cake slice or not. “Show and tell can be about anything!”

As everyone filed into the foyer, Amber sat in front of the fireplace, not comfortable enough with the rest of the hotel residents to share a couch with them. Alastor sat in the armchair next to her.

“I’ll start!” Charlie proudly stood in front of the TV and talked before she ensured anyone was paying attention. “This-“ She reached under the coffee table and pulled out a large book. It looked old yet well taken care of. “-is my copy of The Story of Hell, it was created when I was a baby!”

Amber listened intently as Charlie rambled about her book. No one seemed to have any questions, though Angel and Alastor enjoyed heckling her.

”Does your little storybook mention me?” Alastor chuckled. “Does it detail the massacre I left in my wake?”

Charlie looked through her book. ”You’re mentioned in the notable sinners section, but just your name.”

Alastor hummed with an annoyed tone.

Charlie took a deep breath and looked excitedly to the group around her. ”It feels so good to share and be listened to!” She closed her book. “Who wants to go next?”

Amber raised a hand. She didn’t truly want to go, but a good first impression could go a long way. If the princess wants it, she will do it.

Charlie gasped. “You want to participate already? Oh, I’m so excited!”

Amber wrote on her parchment and held it out for everyone to read. “I need a radio in order to do this.”

”Ah, now that’s a request I can handle.” Alastor smiled wide and snapped his fingers. His radio that was placed by the bar had vanished and reappeared on top of the TV.

Amber tapped her fingers to her chin, moved her hand down, and mouthed the words “thank you” to Alastor as she stood. One of the only proper uses of sign language she knows.

She approached and stood just to the side of the radio so everyone could see it’s face, before she started, she gave a curtsey to the crowd.

She gently laid a hand on the top of the radio. The moment her hand touched the wood, the display lit up, and the speakers sparked to life. The radio began broadcasting the sound of a live radio show tuned to a random station.

Charlie applauded.

Amber smiled but didn’t remove her hand just yet. She took a deep breath and focused. The channel changed without Amber touching the dial, then again, and again. Soon, the radio was switching from channel to channel rapidly. In between the static, multiple voices could be heard, all coming together to provide a word or syllable in a sentence.

The radio spoke, “GOOD MORNING - to all - of - you. It has been - very NICE - to - meet - YOU ALL-”

Alastor leaned closer in his armchair. “I must say, this is actually quite impressive, my dear!”

Amber’s smile widened with the compliment, and she continued to speak through the radio. “I learned - this trick - from an old - friend - who - USED TO - haunt humans!“

A sly smirk spread across Alastors face, intrigued by her display.

“Oh!” Charlie raised her hand. “Where is this friend? Do you think they would want to check out the hotel?”

Amber shook her head. “He - died in the last extermination.”

”Can you do that to the TV?” Angel asked.

Amber released her hands from the radio and shook her head. As her hands left the radio, it instantly powered down. She would never dare tap into a TV. If it had any link to Vox, she wanted nothing to do with it.

Charlie, Vaggie, and Alastor clapped. Amber dramatically bowed and returned to her spot by the fireplace.

As she walked across the room Husker couldn’t help but notice the way Alastor was looking at the new girl, almost like she was fresh meat.

Angel volunteered next. He got close to the tv with the remote while he searched for a certain film. He proudly returned to his spot on the couch as the film started, a smug grin cast on his face.

Amber recognized the opening logo instantly. It’s a porno filmed by Vox’s recording company and produced by Valentino. She hummed and watched with a blank expression. It was impossible to live in hell without being exposed to sex, porn, and violence - this was nothing new.

Once the plot ended and porn started Amber inspected her claws, just waiting for it to be over. She looked to everyone else for their reaction.

Alastor was disgusted at first, his smile turning to a snarl. However, he turned his attention to the other people in the room. When he locked eyes with Amber, they both shared an eye roll. Of course, the porn star would show them porn. Both their attention turned to the disgusted looks around the room.

Nobody seemed impressed by the film, especially Husker.

Eventually, Angel was forced to stop the film, no matter what award he won for it. Amber didn’t involve herself in the arguing, though she enjoyed listening to it, especially when Husker got involved, be seemed to know exactly what to say to piss Angel off.

While they were arguing, Vaggie snatched the remote from the coffee table and turned the TV off.

Before Angel and Husker could argue more, Angel got a phone call. Amber could hear his voice crack and his cocky attitude drop at whoever called. When he ended the call, Angel composed himself and excused himself from the morning activity.

“Angel, you can’t leave yet!” Charlie stood and ran after him.

Amber’s ears perked, listening to their conversation even as they stood at the main entrance, listening as Charlie begged Angel to stay.

“Unless you can fix my boss, there’s nothing you can do.” The next sound heard was the door slamming, and Vaggie heels against the tiled floor walking up to Charlie’s side.

Amber hummed, thinking one well placed bomb could 'fix' both of their bosses.

As she eavesdropped, she noticed Alastor was staring at her, catching her in the act. He only smiled wider when they made eye contact, not saying anything to disturb her ability to hear the conversation from across the foyer.

After some light pressure, Vaggie managed to convince Charlie to go after Angel, under the guise of being ‘aggressively kind’ to Valentino.

This would not turn out well for either of them. In the short time she’s known Charlie and the few years she’s known Valentino, someone will either die or come out of this severely injured. Most likely, Angel - even Val isn’t stupid enough to lay a hand on the princess.

Vaggie returned to the parlor, looking amongst those still left. “So, who wants to go next?”

Niffty excitedly stood and raised her hand, climbing on to the coffee table to raise her hand even higher. “Me! Me! I wanna go next!”

”Go ahead, Niff.” Vaggie smiled and sat back at her spot on the couch.

Alastor’s ears perked as Niffty stood on top of the TV. He leaned forward, eager to see what she had in store. This is bound to be interesting.

Niffty pulled out two puppeteer crosses, each limb with a dead bug attached to the string, mostly cockroaches dangled from the crosses.

Husker and Vaggie blanched, Ser Pentious covered his mouth, Alastor’s eyes widened, and Amber adjusted her posture to face the puppet show fully with a genuine smile.

Niffty controlled the entire army of roaches like a puppet master. Her puppet show featured star crossed lovers, a love triangle, a brutal war, a lobotomy, soldiers going AWOL, and for the finale- a carpet bombing.

Quite literally as Niffty lit a pack of firecrackers on the carpet and quickly tossed all her bugs on the top, along with a baggie full of more dead bugs to act as a metaphor for all the soldiers that have died during war.

The scene of warfare came to a dramatic climax, erupting in fire and scattering chunks of bugs across the parlor.

While Vaggie mechanically clapped in support, Amber and Alastor gave Niffty a round of applause.

”Bravo my darling!”

Amber was the last to stop clapping, which Alastor took note of. Perhaps she was enjoying the performance even more than he was?

Niffty bowed and began collecting the pieces of bugs that had scattered along the room.

”Well…” Vaggie cleared her throat. “I think we should take a break until Charlie gets back.”

Husker stood instantly, brushed the bug parts off his fur, and quickly returned to his normal spot behind the bar. Ser Pentious slithered quickly out of the room. Vaggie had to stop herself from running up the stairs. Alastor stayed put.

Amber assisted with gathering the bug bits, her claws easily picking the carcasses and limbs from the carpet. She didn’t show even the slightest shiver as she collected the bits in her open palm.

”Quite the show, Niffty!” Alastor praised, brushing bits of bug off his sleeve. “Truly impressive, a master of your craft!”

”I liked it when they all exploded.” Niffty said from under the table.

Alastor laughed, he leaned forward in his seat to get a closer look at her. “Where do you come up with such ideas?”

As Alastor leaned, Amber caught the sight of a whole roach stuck in his red hair, close to his scalp. She stood on her knees and stretched out a hand to grab it without a second thought.

Before she could reach the bug Alastor rotated his neck, giving his most intimidating glare he could muster without moving. He studied her movements, waiting for her to make her next move.

She didn’t flinch as he moved. The dials in his eyes were a nice touch, Amber thought. She instead continued to reach, merely locating the bug and pulling it from his head. She did linger just for a moment, enjoying the feeling of his hair in between her fingers.

Alastor was so shocked he didn’t move, allowing her to touch him. Amber lacked the intimidation that most demons felt under his stare or in his presence. She plucked the roach as if it was casual, as if he didn’t glare at her with bloodthirst, as if she wasn’t scared of him. That will need to change, along with his composure. He shouldn’t be letting strangers touch him!

With the last of the bug bits cleaned up, Amber deposited what she had gathered into Niffty’s baggie. Niffty joyfully ran out of the room, leaving Alastor and Amber alone in the parlor.

”Did you enjoy the performance?”

Amber nodded with enthusiasm, quickly took out her parchment, and wrote, “Niffty is very eccentric, I appreciate that she doesn’t hold back for other people’s sake.”

”I too appreciate her unconventional ways.” Alastor leaned back in his chair. “So, you are quite the eavesdropper. Tell me, do you always listen to other people’s conversations?”

Amber hummed, she wrote. “With ears as big as mine, it’s not possible to ignore. I find eavesdropping a valuable skill.” As she faced the parchment toward him, she wiggled her large bat ears.

“Valuable indeed! The secrets you must know, I’m dying to know what you’ve heard.”

Amber shrugged and wrote. “I’m sure you are.” She gave him a smug smile and walked out of the parlor.

She thought about going to the kitchen to cook a proper meal, the cake was good but she needed something with protein. When she spotted the bar and made a quick diversion.

Amber joined Husker at his bar, writing on her parchment for him to read, “Are the drinks free, too?”

”All paid by your royal highness.” Husker grumbled, his voice laced with sarcasm.

She wrote her order down for an Old Fashion with a please and thank you.

As Husker began making her drink, he paused as if seeing her for the first time. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

Amber pursed her lips and inspected Husker, he looked a little familiar but didn’t recognize him. She shrugged.

He continued making her drink, staring at her in the corner of his eyes. “You ever gamble?”

Amber shook her head and wrote on her parchment, “I like to play it safe. I play cards strictly for fun, not for gain.”

He had to squint to read it from his position at the bar. ”You can gain a lot by putting your chips on the table.” Husker set her drink in front of her. “You can also lose a lot.”

Amber stared at her drink. She grabbed it and stayed for a moment longer. She wrote, “I’ve seen many losses over a game of cards.” She took a sip of the drink. “Clothes, money, power, souls.”

“Stakes are set high when souls are in the mix.” Husker scoffed and grabbed a bottle from the shelf. “Word of advice, if you ever pick up gambling - don’t deal in souls.”

Amber took another drink. “I never plan on it.” She wrote.

As Husker drank he glanced in Alastor’s direction, grateful to see he was still in the parlor, now listening to the radio and reading the newspaper. “Look,” Husker set his drink down and spoke under his breath. “I don’t know if anybody’s warned you, but you should stay clear of Alastor.”

Amber cocked her head.

”Nothing good comes from that demon.”

She wrote, “thank you” on her parchment and sipped her drink, grateful to get off the topic of gambling. “Do all morning lessons end like that?”

Husker shrugged. “Sometimes.”

”Are you here to be redeemed?”

Husker scoffed. “No, I never asked to be here, I was told.” He glared at Alastor from across the room.

Alastor, feeling the glare, turned his head from his newspaper to look at Husker. Sensing he was the topic of conversation Alastor gave the biggest shit eating grin he could muster.

Husker growled and turned away to tidy the bar.

Amber walked away with her drink in hand, wandering to the kitchen to find something real to eat. She searched the cabinets and the fridge, finding the contents underwhelming and disappointing. At least they had tons of coffee.

A list would need to be made of what they needed. Amber took to writing a shopping list on some scrap paper, the cheap paper was frustrating to write on with a quill but she didn’t complain.

As she took stock she also threw out anything expired and pulled out certain ingredients, deciding she wanted to cook to pass the time.

Amber’s ears twitched at the sound of footsteps behind the door, someone with nice shoes and a steady pace.

She cheerfully wrote on her parchment and displayed it for Alastor. ”If I’d like to place an order for food, would I give this list to you or Charlie?”

Alastor pulled up a stool, sat at the island countertop, and inspected the list. “The short angry one usually takes care of these things. Are you intending on taking Niffty’s position of head chef? Poor thing will be heartbroken!”

Amber shook her head and wrote, “Just until she can return, I love to cook and can’t stand the lack of a proper meal.”

Alastor chuckled for a second before speaking again. “You will be cooking out of the kindness of your heart? I’m sure the residents here would appreciate your hard work, though…” Alastor leaned closer. “You aren’t trying to earn yourself any favors, are you?”

“Pay would be nice, but I don’t expect anything back.” Amber wrote. “I’m already staying here for free, may as well make myself useful.”

Alastor hummed, watching as Amber worked hard to create something edible. He filled the silence by telling stories of his time working at a butcher shop, coming home with scraps and cooking with his mother.

As he finished the story Amber put a loaf of soda bread in the oven and began cooking eggs.

”And how about you, where did you learn to cook? I don’t see any recipes you’re working off of.”

Amber wrote with one hand and cooked with the other. When she finished the note, she delivered the parchment to the counter. Alastor sat in front of and returned to her work. The note read, “My parents sent me to finishing school, I learned how to cook proper from there. After arriving in Hell, I was a personal chef for a while. My skills have become broadened since then.”

“Finishing school, eh?” Alastor traced the letters with his claw, inspecting the ink closely. “You may be older than I thought!”

Amber turned and gave him a pointed look.

”What, only a statement! I’m an older gentleman myself.” He adjusted his monocle. “So you say you were a personal chef? Not many of those around, who were you employed under?” Alastor slipped the paper away from him, with a wave of his fingers the parchment twirled in the air and landed on the counter just next to Amber.

Amber hummed, he sure enjoyed flaunting his power around. She tapped the quill and wrote, “A few different demons, no one special.”

As she finished writing the note, Alastor waved his cane, the parchment slid out from under her quill, and was delivered directly to his hand. “Oh but not any regular sinner hires a personal chef. Everyone down here is about indulgence, power, and wealth!” He pushed the paper and flew it back to her side. “Those who hire personal chefs are either worried about being poisoned or are too busy to cook for themselves. Do you want to try again?”

Amber pretended to write a much longer note. When she finished, she tucked her quill in her hair and put on oven mitts to pull out the bread.

Alastor took the paper in his hands, and he pressed his lips together as close to a frown as possible. The note simply read,

“No.”

She brought the eggs and bread over to his side of the counter with some plates and forks. She served a small portion on a plate and held it out to Alastor. He hesitated, waiting for her to serve herself a plate and eat before eating his own, ensuring it wasn’t poisoned.

As he watched her eat he wondered what he could do to get under her skin. Calling her old got him a glare but nothing more, she hardly reacted to Angel showing his porno- if anything she was bored. The only reaction he had seen from her was when Charlie pulled out her phone.

”So-“ Alastor took a bite of the eggs. “I wonder why you lack a cellular device? Surely, someone who isn’t able to speak would find text messages convenient to communicate versus parchment and quill, truly medieval.”

Unfortunately for Alastor, she didn’t have much of a reaction. “If I did everything out of convenience, I would simply microwave meals and spend my days lounging about doing nothing.”

He nodded. “Yes you have a point there. If I did everything out of convenience, I would simply set my cellular device on the counter and film podcasts right where I am sitting!” He rolled his eyes, then he had a thought. His reaction was bigger than hers. “Speaking of, I have to record quite a bit for my radio show this afternoon. How would you like to get a sneak peek of my radio tower? It will only be for a short while and the view from up there is gorgeous! I don’t normally invite visitors, but you have been quite a delight!”

Amber hummed, she thought of Husker’s warning and Alastor’s incessant need to ask many questions. She had been able to fend for herself, he hadn’t once made her doubt her safety and to be honest, he was nice company.

”It will only be for a few minutes, I don’t record with others in the room unless they’re a guest, and unfortunately I don’t think you’d make a good guest on an audio only show!” He laughed loudly. “What do you say?”

Amber looked at her grocery list, she didn’t have much else to do in the kitchen and it would be nice to have some variety to her day, her only other idea she could think of to entertain her time would be to wander the hotel and find out if they had a study or library of some kind.

She nodded with a grateful smile.

【☆】

#hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #Trapped in Amber

[innytoes]

Ooooo JatP everyone works in a high school AU, headcanons?

-Luke and Julie as the music teachers. They teach different, so Julie has the tiny nervous freshmen, Luke gets the second and third years, and Julie takes the seniors.

-If you think you're taking music because it's an Easy Class, you are mistaken, and if you're not super into music because of Miss Molina's enthusiasm, Mr Patterson is gonna be so intense you either get with the program or rush to the Principal after two weeks like: can I please switch to like, pottery or something?

-Reggie as the math teacher who tries to make math easy and fun to understand. He may or may not have built a giant adjustable ramp with Willie to have a whole 'My Cousin Throckmorton' math problem day.

-English teacher Willie. He is delighted by students who turn in essays like 'Hamlet was a little bitch and here's why'. As long as your spelling and grammar is fine and your arguments are sound, he is here for it. Runs the GSA with Flynn. Unofficially voted 'most likely to give people a sexuality crisis'.

-History teacher Alex, who everyone may think is boring but if you're actually listening in class he has all these dry, snarky asides. He also teacher the stuff that's not in the books, and does a whole 'this is how you spot propaganda, and this is how you fight it, whoops how did that video of my friend Bobby punching a nazi get in there, lol anyway'.

-Listen, you know that one time after like, his and Willie's anniversary party or something, he came into his morning senior class, set up the screen, turned on the Puppet History playlist, and just thunked his head on the desk like 'I am so hungover oh god why did I let Luke talk me into those shots'.

-Everyone knows Mr Mercer and Mr Willie ('hey you think it's weird we don't even know the English Teacher's last name?') have a crush on each other. Mr Mercer always gets so flustered when Mr Willie talks to him in the hall or flirts with him at assembly.

-It takes a while to realise that no, it's not a crush, those two are MARRIED and Mr Willie is also Mr Mercer but they thought that would be confusing.

-Flynn teaches media studies. She and Willie do Crossover Weeks where they do like, Pride and Prejudice and stuff. She also DJs every single school dance and helps run the yearbook and the GSA and is generally the Cool Teacher you go to when you have a crazy idea for a club or event.

-Guidance counselor Carrie is terrifying. She's also terrifyingly efficient. If you tell her what your goals are for college, she will have all the scholarships you can apply for ready for you within the week and she will stop at nothing until you achieve your dreams, supportive parents of nah.

If you tell her you have a problem at home, she will get you help so fast, no matter who your parents are. She also strikes fear into bullies everywhere, and is not above using her own former-mean-girl tactics to get into their head and help them realise they need to stop being a shit or she will Destroy Them.

-Principal Victoria is super good at dealing with demanding, entitled parents, but if she's particularly annoyed at one, she 100% sends them to Carrie and sits back and enjoys the carnage.

-Victoria has a list of specific pairings of teachers who are no longer allowed to chaperone the dances together due to Chaos or getting lost in each other's eyes and not realising there is INAPPROPRIATE GRINDING GOING ON. (Luke and Reggie, Willie and Alex)

#teacher au #julie and the phantoms #not!fic #I wrote a thing #willex #luke doesn't have the patience for freshman okay #he also doesn't have the patience to teach stuff they need for the final exams #he HATES exam season #alex also has videos of Willie punching a nazi but Victoria says he's not allowed to show it in class #Bobby doesn't teach at the school but he is like their connection for everything #he's who they call when they need help setting up the giant ramp #and a judge on the talent show every year #and Carrie's Inside Man at PTA meetings #does he even have a kid here? shut up helen he makes the best goddamn bananabread in the county we need him for the bake sale

[hazelwords]

Audrey Hepburn Summer!

Tonight's watch: Paris When It Sizzles (1964) (Photos and trivia from IMDB)

This film reunites Hepburn with her Sabrina co-star William Holden, who still carried a torch for her at the time of signing on to the film. It's a layered story of two people writing a screenplay, and the audience sees both the writing of the screenplay and the pretend film they picture in their minds.

Hepburn loved making the film but calls this one of her least favorite movies of her own, noting that just because it was fun to make doesn't mean it's good. While it was critically reviled, I think it's a fun, light-hearted watch. The snarky asides about filmmaking were funny, and it's always delightful to watch Hepburn.

There are a number of references to Hepburn's work, both prior and immediately future films: Breakfast at Tiffany's, Charade, and My Fair Lady. I'm not sure if these were on purpose or not, but it's fun to catch the references!

I borrowed a DVD from the library to watch this, but you can also get it on Amazon.

#audrey hepburn summer #audrey hepburn #william holden #richard quine #paris when it sizzles #paris when it sizzles (1964)

[bookmovieaddictee]

Summer Knight (Dresden Files #4) by Jim Butcher

Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden is a very powerful wizard and a dedicated private eye. He is also a wise cracking trouble magnet. Fueled by a tempest of guilt, sleep deprivation, malnutrition, bad temper and frankly awful personal grooming. Harry is hurtling toward oblivion. According to Harry that is nobody's business but his own.

The Winter Queen of Faerie manipulates him into accepting a case to solve a murder and stop a war between the courts of Summer and Winter that could have literally earth shattering consequences. His own soul is up for grabs. Dresden must dig deep to discover that at time a willingness to accept a little help from your friends, be they a cub pack of werewolves, old loves in sheep's clothing, or a battalion of pizza loving dewdrop fairies, is a very good thing.

📖📖📖📖📘

If ever you wanted to date this series as old, this would be the book to do it. Nothing screams Y2K like starting right off with shitty race jokes. I feel almost bad for liking this book. What can I say? A girl loves her faeries, be they friend or foe, even if Harry Dresden doesn't feel quite the same. At least the humiliation is two-ways, what with Harry being a monoglot dumb American :P Mentally, I even the tab-- Redneck Hillbilly doesn't appear nearly as frequently as the derogatory name for Listens-to-Wind.

I know somewhere, there's an ancestor of mine ashamed that I consume such problematic, insensitive genre fiction trash. I'll shamelessly add it to my shit taste shelf, right there with werewolf erotica, sugar daddy sex stories, and interracial romance.

Where was I? Ah yes, so anyways, I enjoyed this book! I feel like I keep saying that, but really, this book is like reading an action comic. The story is like 80% fight scenes. It plays a lot of those tropes straight and Harry's dry, sarcastic narration always catches me a little off-guard. There's moments of genuine cleverness, then just sheer dumbfuckery that gets you like--

Yes, I'm talking about the Plant Monster fight. There was a moment where I was like, "That's not actually going to work, will it?" And the consequences that follow actually made me laugh. I'm corny. Fight me. Nevermind when you have such groups as "Billy and the Werewolves" seriously named that. (Yes, I know they are supposed to be called the Alphas, but the first person narration gets snarky name stuck in my potato brain.)

As always, Karrin Murphy kicks ass (that's why I love her 😌).

The twist is a twist, yet, there's enough clues to figure it out as you read along! The execution is such that I started to put it together just as Harry did, which is always a delight when reading a mystery. My favorite books in the series always tend to be the ones with a tight mystery that ties in the client's case with the overarching plot, and this book does it so well. Each of the faerie queens were so enchanting and sinister in equal measure, more unsettling and inhuman as you go up the hierarchy of faerie courts. Then the plot worm for the next book! Delightful as always.

Aside from the overarching plot and pacing, I thought the progression of character for Hobo Harry, Karrin, and Susan were excellent. Everyone is a hot mess in this story. I, who enjoy toxic drama, was living for it. All these people need a break and therapy, but are they likely to get it? Nope. It's not paranoia if everyone actually is out to get you, as they say. And even the powers that be have it out for Hobo Harry and all his associates.

So, dock a book because the start was off-putting and frankly not good, while the rest was so good. YMMV.

#oct 2022 #book review #book recommendation #dresden files #jim butcher #genre: urban fantasy #genre: mystery #genre: adult

[vsholmes]

V or V. S. | they/them | Author | Archaeologist | Disaster Queer

WELCOME EXPLORERS!

I go by "V" here in the author-verse. I'm an international bestselling author and focus on dark, speculative fiction, from fast-paced hard sci-fi to slow-burn gothic fantasy and everything in between.

You can find all of my original work under the writing tag.

Want sneak peeks and get your hands on ARCs? Join the Explorers Newsletter!

STARS EDGE: NEL BENTLY BOOKS

My current focus is my snarky archaeological sci-fi series. Book five of six hits stores Summer 2023!

Foul-mouthed Dr. Nel Bently discovers her pristine archaeological site is the center of an intergalactic feud. Tossed into a world of high tech and higher stakes, she only has her trowel, her attitude, and her badass--and alien--girlfriend, Lin.

The first book, Travelers, is included in the Peregrine Moon Lander mission as part of the Writers on the Moon Time Capsule!

"The fun fourth space opera in Holmes’s Stars Edge series (after Strangers) takes rough-edged heroine Nel Bently back to Earth in search of the source of a deadly audio signal….Though the action is a bit slow to start, once it revs up it’s delightful. Holmes blends archaeology and science fiction into a unique romp that’s sure to be a hit…"

- Publishers Weekly

BLOOD OF TITANS

My first series was the slow-burn epic fantasy following two generations caught in the crossfire of a war between the gods and their creators.

When Alea's home is destroyed by a mad king's genocide, she is forced to choose between mortals who play at gods and gods who pray for mortality.

Smoke and Rain, the award-winning first book in their fantasy quartet, became an international bestseller in 2018 and won New Apple Literary's Excellence in Independant Publishing Award in 2015.

"The atmosphere surrounding this epic tale is intoxicatingly real...Holmes weaves a tapestry of the forthcoming events with the skill of a thaumaturge." - The San Francisco Review of Books

SOLFORGE FUSION

I recently joined the Stone Blade Entertainment team to develop lore, world-building, and original characters for SolForge Fusion, launched October of 2022! 

Aside from enjoying the awesome cards and beautiful art of the game as a player, I'm developing lore, flavor-text, original characters, as well as some more secrets yet to be shared!

You can find all my deck scenes and more under the SolForge Fusion tag!

Until next time, take good care!

#introduction #V. S. Holmes #vs holmes #fantasy #scifi

[zorkaya-moved]

“ i was actually quite fond of them, you know. ” from esdeath, but sarcastically 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

@jiingweii

They are the representatives of winter’s code of rules: the strong survive and the weak perish. They are the embodiments of the winter’s beauty and cruelty at the same time. The beauty of their existences sends chills down the spines of those who exist in this world. They will bask in the moonlight as others will try to get their spot under the sun. They don’t need to care about this as they’ve survived hell and came back still looking as goddesses without losing their ounce of regal radiance before others. It makes her laugh how they find apathy in each other towards those who do not matter. Perhaps, Esdeath’s sadism is boring to the one who sits next to her because she’s seen it all but continues to watch simply because there is has to be something new when the fellow Ice Queen would take up reigns and deliver the punishment for them. What punishment? Ah, it all depended on what was on the other’s mind. That’s why their entertainment seemed barbaric to some and downright insane to others. They’ve seen beauty in death and life, there were countless ways they would continue to approach such topics without glancing away. Where others will shiver from fear and terror, they will stand proud and even find boredom seeping into their bones. Or so Zarina thinks when she takes her time to study and look at Esdeath. A woman of her caliber is truly one in a billion, it’s quite a delight to find someone so entertaining in her travels. 

The sarcasm is seeping through the General’s smile and it makes Sokolova laugh out loud as she tosses away a bloody limb of a monster that dared to attack her. No blood on her clothes, surprising. In the bloodshed that happened and transpired, there was not even a drop on her own dress that she was wearing for a walk today. Not a pragmatic choice, but she wished to take a walk with the other. Sad that she continues to encounter such things, they were weak and acting as a hoard thinking they can take two apex predators with sheer numbers. They’d have to have millions upon millions to make them bend the knee. Zarina has quite high views and expectations of the fellow queen by her side. Even if she did not have the official title of a royalty, the winter court will welcome her as one of the regal royalties. It would be only fitting. 

“ My apologies, Esdeath, ” she bows slightly, placing her hand on her chest with the same smirk on her face. It’s comedic, to say the least. They can be snarky with each other after a small encounter that disturbed their ‘peaceful’ walk where they were searching for those who would be worthy of their time. How sad that fate did not hear them and did not deliver. “ I did not think you would find delight in witnessing such creatures show their bellies for you to stab them and torture them. I thought they were simple minions of another beast. ”

It’s obvious that they are feeding into each other’s carnal nature of battle. There was something different that united them aside from their oppressing power and representation of winter's tough rules. It was humor, it was apathy, it was never-ending search, it was boredom, it was domination. There were countless connections. Quite a delightful encounter, Sokolova would admit. Then again, such praises are not without judgments that she leaves sitting in the back of her mind and soul for the sole reason that if she will let them see brighter light, her boredom will erase this delight as well. There was a dire wish to continue indulging in this company until it - too - will turn into ice in her memory, stasis and stagnation would return to her soul and she’ll continue moving on in search for another entertainment in another empire. 

“ Shall we continue our walk then? I believe there is a waterfall nearby. It would be a nice stop to wash and see if there are any other endemic species around here. They might become your new toys for entertainment. Perhaps, some of them might carry poison you’ve yet to discover… just like those flowers of yours in the garden, ” a plant that upon pressure towards a wound would create hellish pain. There was nothing that Esdeath wouldn’t use for extraction of pain and screams, right? How fascinating a human’s curiosity could run, including her own. 

#jiingweii #<3 two badass queens lets gooo #❄ ― IN CHARACTER. ╱ you breathe by the sun，i breathe by the moon. #queue.