#i'm still trying so it'll take some time before i'm posting serious again

[anundyingfidelity]

FOR ALL TIME, ALWAYS – Loki x female reader

Summary: Loki escapes the TVA for a moment. Desperate and brokenhearted, he looks for you, his wife, in the Sacred Timeline. Even if you saw him die ten years ago.

Word count: 3.9k.

Warnings: LOTS of angst, some fluff, spoilers of Loki series in general. Language. Maybe I'm not getting how the branches work oops. This is right after the end of 2x02 and before 2x03. My English is also a warning, just in case.

Notes: while looking on the tags I checked a post of someone asking for a TVA Loki fic where he finds the reader but her Loki died in IW (not canon in my head btw). So I wrote it because is such a great idea, but I can't find the original post... ;-; anyway hope you like this!

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

It's harder to stay...

Wasn't this situation hard enough? Sylvie was right. She had a point. But Loki wanted to do the right thing. Maybe he would find a chance... Again, right? Probably he would make the proper decisions this time.

The TVA was already fucked up, and with it, the thousands of timelines and lives in danger within them. Sometimes, it looked like it didn't matter. In the end, they were trying to fix something that was already broken.

Loki let out a deep breath he didn't realise was holding and walked to talk directly to his partner, Mobius.

"I need a favor," Loki mumbled, so the grey-haired man would be the only person to hear his voice.

Mobius met his eyes. He knew that gaze, it meant he was up to something. "What kind of favor?"

The god motioned Mobius to step away from the newly acknowledged variants and far away from what B-15 was witnessing. The branches were pruned from the whole existence; thousands and millions of lifes lost to the void in just the blink of an eye. Loki knew he had to do something before it got worst. Something for himself.

"I need to go the Sacred Timeline," Loki announced.

"Are you nuts?" Mobius scolded, in the same low voice tone Loki had used.

"Is just- listen, it's something I have to do. I really need to go back there. Need to see someone, make sure everything is okay," Loki insisted.

During all the times Loki showed he was desperate, Mobius was sure this was the peak of all of them. He wasn't explaning more than necessary, he looked serious, and his voice was crisp. Loki knew what he wanted at that moment. Mobius sighed, his hands finding the pockets of his pants, unsure of Loki's request.

"So it's personal..."

"A little, yeah," Loki nodded.

"Promise it'll be quick," Mobius said, taking off the TemPad from his pocket and his hand stopped in the air before the object could lay in the god's grip. "Don't make me regret this."

"I won't."

2029, Sacred Timeline

When Loki arrived to his destination, the nerves got the best from him. New York looked no different from the last time he was there. Shifting his usual clothes he wore at the TVA, he chose a plain suit to go undercover, or at least decided he would try to, considering he was a criminal once in Midgard.

But as he walked through the halls of the familiar building he met decades ago, he didn't really care. He longed for something else. Better say, someone. And it was you.

You, who met him in the past right after Thor's banishment, and even helped him to find the Teseract, only to give up to SHIELD and those idiots that people called 'The Avengers'. Of course his heart hurted for a long time, but Loki tried to deny the feelings blooming inside and instead, he just decided to walk away from you, even if that meant hurting you. It was the best.

At least that was what he believed until he checked further his file; the file that Mobius had prepared for him. His life. Even after what he did to your people and planet, you still held no grudges. And Thor was good enough to seek for yours and the sorcerer's, Stephen Strange, help once Hela appeared in their lives.

Loki would never forget the loving look in your beautiful eyes when you saw him again, after years of parting ways. He really paid attention to you while watching his file, and he found there was only love, protection, and care in you. All for him. Someone who didn't deserve it, he thought.

He felt grateful at least he had the pleasure to enjoy happiness for a moment. Even if that meant Asgard was destroyed. Loki already lost his mother, his father, and he almost lost his brother. He couldn't stand losing you either. The simple idea of living without you - even if he didn't know you further than your Loki did - was unbearable pain.

So while in the ship on the way to Midgard with the asgardians and survivors of the Ragnarok, you held a cozy, small wedding when he asked you to marry him. This was one of the parts Loki would replay again and again from his file, with disbelief that he was actually happy and joyful, enjoying a good time with you, his brother, and all the asgardians who survived. Loki felt full of hope after your wedding, thinking fate had better things to come with you as an oficial part of his life.

Unfortunately, it didn't last long, thanks to the Mad Titan. As his steps got near your door, the memory of his brother and your figure mourning on his lifeless body appeared on his mind. It was an image he couldn't erase that easily. Probably, he would never forget that was his original destiny all the way. That was meant to be. And for now, he could not change it.

Loki stopped outside your apartment. He took a deep breath and raised his shaking hand to reach the doorbell. He waited for a moment, not knowing if seconds or minutes went by, it felt eternal. Until the door opened and he saw you.

The bright smile you had on your lips faded away. Your eyes flooded with tears, your forehead was furrowed, and still, Loki thought you were the most beautiful creature in all the Nine Realms.

"Hi..." Loki barely whispered, his eyes were glossy and a single tear also ran down his pale cheek.

You were clearly in shock. You wanted to get closer and finally touch him, to feel him physically. But even if you wanted to move to take his hand to confirm it wasn't a trick of your ruined mind, your body was stiff and your feet were glued to the ground.

"Is this an illusion?" you trembled.

All Loki could do was shaking his head, before muttering. "No..."

"Loki, I saw you die..."

Tears ran down your face, denying to yourself that this was real. That this was really happening to you. And your mind started to wonder all the possible scenarios and reasons on why him, the god of mischief, the only person you loved dearly with all your mind, body and soul, was standing right in front of your door even if he was gone for you... Long gone now. And that couldn't be undone.

"I know you did, my love."

You tried to smile, even a little bit, as he pronounced those words so dearly. Loki came closer to your figure, carefully placing a trembling hand on your cheek, feeling the tears flowing on your skin. You leaned into his touch, with a simpering smile. Such was the effect you had on him, that a silly smile he also had on his lips.

And you realized Loki was so real... His touch, his heat, his smile, his scent, the way he would hold you... Everything about him was exactly as you remembered. You felt his lips brushing softly against yours, gentle and hesitant, and instantly, you melted into a slow kiss, sure knowing that Loki would taste the salt of your tears running down your face. Leaning in closer as the space between would allow you, you savoured each second your breaths allowed, longing to remain right there for eternity. For all time. Always.

"But now I am here... and I can explain," he whispered once you separated your lips from his in the sweetest way.

You let out a soft chuckle. "Mind to enlighten me, oh, god of mischief?"

Finally you guided him inside your apartment. That old apartment Loki saw his other self visiting a couple of times before you were something. It still had your vibe around it and he loved it. He felt like he was at home after a very long time. Once you closed the door, his arms wrapped around your figure, and you let yourself cry, pressing against his chest and with a tight grip of your hands on his coat.

"You don't have any idea of how much I have missed you all these years," you sobbed and his heart shrank on his chest. "I kept wishing every night and every day to be me instead of you."

"My love," he said softly, separating a little and cupping your cheeks with his warm hands. His eyes were red now because of the tears he was holding back again. "Don't say that... It was supposed to happen."

"What?" you mumbled.

Your hands found his wrists and you pulled his palms away from your cheeks. However you kept the contact with him, you just needed to touch him, to feel he was in the flesh. He was alive right now, wasn't he?

"Look, I am not your Loki. I know what you did, what the Avengers did after Thanos-" his voice broke just a bit but he continued. "I know everything. I just couldn't resist knowing there was someone for me, out there in the Nine Realms, capable to love me for who I am," Loki explained as he watched your face. Was it disappointment? Confusion? He didn't know, but he had to tell you the truth.

Your voice came out as a barely audible whisper. "So... you are saying... you're another Loki? Another him?"

He nodded softly. "I am." Loki thought for a moment on how to explain everything, but he just went for what his heart felt it was right. "It's a little complicated. I did something that wasn't supposed to be, and perhaps will sound like I'm insane, but thanks to that I am kind of trapped in time. With an organization that is not what everyone thought it was, hence a multiverse was created. Sponsored by another me, by the way. You are in what is called the Sacred Timeline, where things flow as how they were supposed to since forever. And I just needed to see you after I found out you were the love of my life."

You took a moment to understand everything he said, wishing that his fate would have been different from what originally happened. Loki gave his best, even in the last worst moments, he was changing for good. For you. For Thor... It wasn't fair.

"Your death was supposed to be then?"

"Yes, it was."

"Oh, Loki," you cried. "You know what, I don't care what's happened. I'm just- I feel happy seeing you here... Please tell me everything you've been through. I want to hear your voice again, to know you're with me right now, to feel you near... I'm not crazy, am I?" you chuckled between tears and Loki curved his lips in a smile, wiping your tears from your face with his thumbs.

Loki granted your wish and explained everything, answering every question you had about the lies of the TVA; the files he found out were his whole life; about Sylvie, Mobius and his variants. He spilled all you wanted to hear, asking like a child, until you understood what was happening. You noticed he truly had changed, just like your Loki did when he reunited with Thor before the Ragnarok took over Asgard. It was a bittersweet feeling however, thinking how much they they seemed to each other. They were the same person after all, but this Loki didn't had the chance to continue his path as it was supposed to.

Taking his hand into yours, you leaned towards him and laid down your head on his shoulder while you both sat comfortable in the couch, just enjoying each others company. Your eyes were dry at this point after crying for what it felt were hours, but his voice helped to soothe you enough.

"I'm glad knowing you have someone like Mobius by your side," you said after a quiet moment. "He sounds like a very good friend," you looked at him, waiting for an answer. "Because that's what he is to you, right?"

"He is a great friend, I'm not alone if that is what is troubling you," Loki affirmed.

You let out a sigh. "That is totally a relief to me."

Loki chuckled softly, leaning to leave a kiss on your hair. "Now you've heard everything about me, would I hear something from you?"

"I'm just a mortal, Loki," you smiled. "Doing the normal shit, not the superhero stuff anymore. I am hating my pretty much normal office job every day; I feed the birds when I go outside at the park, also thinking about adopting a cat or a dog... Maybe a dog."

"Or you could do both."

"Yeah, I might. But my place isn't that big for pets. Sometimes I feel like I'm too alone, very much alone... I would love to have a big farm, or a cabin in the mountains with lots of plants, pets and animals to take care of." The idea did sound good for Loki. Hopefuly you could find peace that way. "Do you remember Pepper?" you said, straighting up on the couch to look at him. He nodded. "Well, after Tony died I still visit her and their daughter, Morgan. She is ten years old, could you believe it?" Loki noticed the sorrow and pain you still carried after all those years of losing your friends, your people... "And I've been missing you and mourning you for ten years as well."

"It's not your fault."

"I know, Loki."

"Do whatever is the best for you, my dear... I would have loved to be here with you now, as the Loki from the Sacred Timeline."

You smiled, but it was a sad smile. "Well, either way, you're here now. It's all that matters to me."

Once again, you shared a loving kiss and took his hand to walk to the kitchen, asking him to take a seat in your breakfast bar, glad he decided to search for you in one of your free days. Otherwise, you would have surely missed his visit. But he was looking for you. Probably Loki would have found you anywhere at this point.

You talked some more while you had some tea and ate some cookies that you saved for special days on the shelfs. The afternoon was pleasant, and this was your turn to speak. Loki, coat long gone, was catching up with you and he asked every single thing about your life now. He smiled more than ever, laughed more than you have ever seen, and it was certainly something you could get used to from now on. Knowing you never continued your life with another person made his heart ache though. However, Loki was no one to blame. He would have done the same thing. No other was like you, no one would have replaced you.

"It's my decision," you finally said, reading his face like an open book. "I have loved you, I love you now and I will love you forever."

He took your hand, lacing your fingers with his. "I know..."

"The day we married you gave me a ring. I always have it with me, today I'm not working, but I use this necklace with your ring," you searched for the necklace hiding inside your shirt and taking it off, you showed him the precious jewel hanging on a fine golden chain. The ring he recognized once was from his mother. "I want you to have it."

"No,I can't-"

"But this is what I want. I know I would have to forget, because you will make me forget about this. About you, coming here, risking everything just to see me. So please, take it."

Loki knew you had made a decision, but then if he left, taking your memories away about this day, what was left for you? He had nothing, and it was okay. He would still know he came to the Sacred Timeline; that he kissed you, that you shared a moment together, that you still loved him. But you will have none of that. And you, as human as you were, would die without the memories and without the ring. You would have nothing and he was sure couldn't bear it.

"Perhaps I can have something else to remember you, I want you to keep this ring as a promise," he closed your hand around the necklace. "My promise that I still love you and I will do it. Forever."

And you sighed, taking the necklace back with a smile. Always so stubborn. "Give me a moment."

Loki saw you leave the kitchen for some minutes. While he was alone, he noticed the sunset through the windows, as it was almost ending to welcome the dark sky around the city. He knew he had to go soon. As much as he didn't want to and the simple thought of runing away was starting to hurt him deep inside.

When you arrived, you stood by his seat on the breakfast bar, putting a small photograph, perfect for a passport, on the surface. It was all in black and white, and you looked what you thought it was nice. Loki took it between his hands, lovingly and with a proud smile on his face.

"I used that when I was taking my Master's degree. Looks pretty decent," you joked.

Loki laughed, tears right at the corner of his eyes. "It's more than that. It's perfect."

His smile faded, knowing this meant he had to leave you again. Loki wasn't supposed to have a happy ending, was he? How he wished to stay there by your side.

You kissed his cheek as a sort of goodbye and comfort at the same time, noticing the sudden change on his face and whispered softly. "So you don't search for me on those files."

"Thank you, love."

Loki got on his feet to put his coat on, like some sort of mental preparation before leaving your apartment and the Sacred Timeline. He saved your photograph on his pocket securely along with Mobius' TemPad, pretending to be strong and swallowing all the pain he was feeling right at that moment. You took his hand, lacing your fingers together one last time and walked until you stood there, in the middle of your living room. He looked at you with loving eyes, trying to save your face and your figure before returning to where he was supposed to be now. And it seemed like time had stopped, as everything Loki could see and feel was you and only you.

"I guess is time now," you began, interrupting his mind.

"I guess it is," Loki nodded, expecting an answer from you. Anything. But it never came. You were also trying to save the moment as much as you could.

So he cupped your cheeks, feeling for the last time your warm, soft skin against his palms. He didn't want to talk, because if he would have said something, it meant you were really saying goodbye forever. What Loki didn't know is that you felt the same thing.

Was there something good to say to your lover, whose destiny was just to bring the best from other people with his cruelty and chaos? To the man who had learn to make things better and, in the end, died trying to protect his people and his wife? Was there anything out there that would bring the god of mischief the happiness and love you always knew he deserved? With these branches and multiverse thing, you hoped deep in your heart there was a universe where he found what he longed for so long. This was just one of many of them. Probably he was happy and living in peace in some others.

"I love you, Loki," you mumbled. He caressed your skin with his thumbs and wiped the small tears that were running on your cheeks.

"I love you too."

Loki leaned to kiss you one last time. You welcomed the kiss with shut eyes, savouring his lips and the taste of your tears, mixing now with his own.

The pain started to bloom; every heartbeat felt like a sledgehammer pounding against his chest. He was not ready to let you go, so this was all he could do. The seidr flowed from his fingers, the green lights covering your body with the help of the spell he casted for you was made to protect you from anything that could get out of hand in the Sacred Timeline, particularly from his own hands, the hands of the TVA, or any other danger that could chase you. Because if something would happen to you due to his stubborn decision, Loki knew he wouldn't forgive himself. What he was sure about though, was that he would still look for you until the end of time.

So when the kiss ended, you fell asleep in seconds. He had to take your sleeping figure with his arms to your bedroom, where he carefully laid you down on the bed. Making sure you were comfortable in your sleep, fixing the pillows and the blankets, Loki remained there, just to take in the serenity emanating from you. It was something you had, the ease and calm your aura projected to everyone in the room. This was the last thing Loki wanted to save from you.

He kissed your forehead and dried the tears on your face before standing up. Once you were to wake up in some hours, you would not be able to know everything was real. Loki made sure you thought it was a dream. So that is what you would have in your head. Something you wished for so long that will only be nothing but thoughts, scenes and emotions that felt absolutely true. As real as life could be.

Loki took the TemPad and opened the timedoor to go back to the TVA, where he knew Mobius would be waiting already since he left for hours. Without looking back to your room, he stepped in and forced to compose himself just in case he would bump into someone else. He sighed, observing through the halls of the headquaters as he made his way back to the room that was assigned to him.

At his door, a worried Mobius was already waiting for him, walking in circles.

"God, Loki I thought you were gone for a second," the analyst breathed out. Loki just handed the TemPad and Mobius took it back. He noticed his weary demeanor and teary eyes. "Thank you. Sorry I doubted you for a second."

"It's fine," Loki shrugged it off, looking for something on his pocket. The photograph slipped from his fingers and fell down to the floor. Mobius was quick enough to pick it up for him, but as he gave it back to his owner he observed it thoroughly.

"So this was the personal thing you did," Mobius said, looking the photograph resting on Loki's hand. He remembered that face from his files.

"Yeah... I guess all set now," Loki sighed.

"Good, I hope you're ready for another trip to the Sacred Timeline." Mobius turned to walk away, deciding it was better to give him some time, but he turned back to Loki before doing so. "And if you're feeling like talking about this any day, only between us, just let me know."

And with that, he walked away. Loki smiled, standing alone outside his door.

You were right. Mobius was a good friend.

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #tva loki x reader #tva loki x female reader #tva!loki x reader #loki imagines #loki angst #loki laufesyon x reader #loki series fanfiction #loki season 2 #mcu loki x reader #mcu loki #loki series

[walkingstackofbooks]

Just a little ficlet that I doubt will make it into anything larger.

Post-canon Cardassia: Julian asks Ezri (and Dax) to be a part of his and Garak's wedding.

It had been lovely to properly catch up with Julian, and see how happy he was now. Conversation had flowed as easily as ever as they ambled along; it was hard to believe they'd once thought that dating-and-breaking-up would stop them from being friends.

Ezri wasn't sure how long they'd been walking when Julian came to a sudden stop, flexing his hands in that way he did when he was worried about something.

"Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you. Well, you and Dax. If that makes sense? A couple of things, really," he said. Ezri wondered how many times he'd silently rehearsed that, only for it still to come out so awkwardly.

"Go on?"

"Um, first of all - will you be my best man? At the wedding?"

Ezri laughed, taken aback, but Julian seemed completely serious. "Me?" she said, incredulously. "I mean, I'm flattered that you're asking - but I'd have thought you'd have wanted Miles?"

Julian nodded, chuckling through gritted teeth. "Yes... and no - I was trying to decide who of you I'd ask. No offence!" he added hurriedly, probably realising how that sounded. "But, you see, the thing is that Garak asked Miles before I could."

"Garak? Why?"

Julian sighed, rolling his eyes. "Garak says that since it's a human tradition, he felt it was only proper to ask one of his human friends - actually, "acquaintances" was how he put it. Personally, I think he's just doing it to irritate both of us - but I don't have any proof. Yet."

Although he had tried to sound cross about it, Julian couldn't stop a fond smile breaking across his face. "I still can't believe I'm going to marry him," he mused, looking off into the distance contentedly before snapping back to face Ezri. "Well, anyway - will you do it?"

"Of course," she replied warmly, taking his hands in her own. "I'd love to."

He squeezed her hands tightly in gratitude. "Great," he grinned. "That's... that's really great, Ezri. Thank you."

As she stepped back, letting go of him, she could see that despite his happiness, there was still an air of anxiety around him.

"And the second thing?" she prompted, assuming that was the cause.

"Ah, yes," Julian said, smile slipping for a moment, some heaviness stealing into his expression. His gaze wandered off over her shoulder.

"Julian?"

Unexpectedly, he laughed, straightening up as he looked at her again. "I'm sorry, it's just that I really don't have any right to ask this of you," he said, hands - as usual - accompanying his words with haphazard gestures. "But... well... I wanted to ask if you'd plan the afterparty?"

"Me?" she asked, laughing again, unable to think of a different way to reply. "Julian, I'm not really a party person. I'm sure you could find someone who would actually know what they're doing. I wouldn't know where to start!"

"I know," he replied, "but Dax does, right?"

She frowned, trying to work out what he was getting at. Julian closed his eyes for a moment, sighing.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, "I was just hoping I could ask you as Dax..." He trailed off and looked away, shrugging. "It's probably silly, really. But I haven't been able to shake the thought that if Jadzia were here, nothing would have stopped her from taking over the party plans. And I just thought that maybe, if you did it, it would be like having a little bit of her, there, too."

"Oh, Julian," she breathed, allowing the strangeness of feeling like she was being mourned to wash over her. It was a familiar sensation, but it was far easier to hang on to her own Ezri-ness nowadays, and she shook herself back into the present.

"Well, I can't guarantee it'll live up to your expectations - but I'll do my best," she promised sincerely. "For you, and for Jadzia."

He smiled back, shakily. "It's not too much to ask?"

"Not at all," she reassured him, although she wasn't entirely certain that was true. She'd cross that bridge when she came to it. "I'm just sorry that you still miss her so much."

He turned his head sharply, as though she'd said something confusing. "I'm not," he said, his wet eyes catching hers with an unusual intensity. She tilted her head, raising her eyebrows in her own silent question.

"I'm not sorry that I miss her, I mean," he explained, voice rough, but steady. "If I didn't, it would mean that I'd forgotten how important she was to me when she was alive - and I'd never want that to happen. Even if it still sometimes hurts to remember her. I wouldn't give up those memories for anything. Not that I can, of course" he added, tapping his forehead. "Perfect recall has to count for something."

Ezri wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. The counsellor part of her wanted to ask if he'd spoken to anyone about how his enhanced memories had impacted on his grief... but she figured now wasn't the right time, and tabled that thought for a future conversation.

"Come on," she said instead, linking her arm through his. "I don't know how much further we've got to walk to get there, but I know we're not there yet."

--

Like I said, I don't expect to write this into a whole story - but this conversation was partly the inspiration for the song I made about grieving Jadzia, if you're interested at all :)

(But I can't regret missing you / Even when I know it means / That my heart won't lighten again. / Even losing one memory / Would be the death of me - / You were magnificent / And I won't forget that.)

(Yes, I am having FEELINGS about Jadzia's death and I want to share them so badly 😅😅😅)

#ficlet #ds9 spoilers #Julian Bashir #Ezri Dax #very implied Garashir :P #Andi writes #my trek musings #ds9 fic #mourning the magnificent Jadzia Dax #I hope I've done Ezri justice here #Like I love Julian and it is ultimately about him #(what isn't 😅) #but i do love Ezri and want her to be her own bean #WSB

[broodybuck]

A Lending Hand | Series Part 4

Series Summary: When Steve finds out what Bucky's been doing behind closed doors, he's happy to lend a hand. He's willing to do whatever it takes to find how much of the Bucky he knew is still left.

Series Tags: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes | Rated E | Tags: 18+ explicit smut, recovering Bucky, post cacw, denial of feelings, handjobs, first time, Avengers tower, no refractory period, power bottom Steve, top Bucky

[Masterpost] // [ao3 link]

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3]

The moment Steve opens his eyes, it registers — the warmth, the weight against him, the subtle sound of Bucky breathing. Because Bucky stayed, right in his arms.

Steve smiles to himself, thrilled, and even presses his lips to the back of Bucky's neck.

He assumes Bucky is sleeping but once he shifts, he catches the sight of the brunet's eyes open.

"Oh, good morning," Steve hums, settling back down behind him, arms still wound around him.

Bucky remains quiet, not answering, but Steve doesn't mind. He stays as he is, taking advantage of getting to hold him longer.

"How'd you sleep?" Steve asks after some time.

"I didn't."

Steve stiffens. "Oh."

"Not you," Bucky notes, which is kind of him to say but doesn't make Steve feel much better about it.

"How did you like the cuddling?" Steve inquires.

"Good. I think."

"Don't overthink it," Steve advises. "It's only meant to be comforting."

They lie for a little while longer before Bucky starts to shift. Steve unlatches his hold and backs away, allowing Bucky to turn over and lie on his back. He looks up at Steve.

"Do you want more?" Bucky asks.

"More of what?"

Bucky searches for the word. "Physical."

"This is more than I can ask for already," Steve smiles genuinely.

Bucky looks perplexed by this, almost like he doesn't understand it.

"Don't you want something... in return?" Bucky says.

"Buck, I'm fine. Don't worry about that."

"That's not normal," Bucky objects. "Everyone wants things."

"Well, I do want things. I just don't always ask for them," Steve admits.

"Ask."

He looks dead serious.

"Ask what?" Steve laughs uncomfortably.

"For what you want."

Steve's face turns hot, he's nervous all of a sudden because he can't actually tell Bucky what he wants. Bucky's not ready and he may never be.

"Buck, come on—"

"Ask," Bucky dares again.

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because I can't," Steve stresses a little too intensely. Bucky tenses from it. Instead of apologizing, Steve's mouth takes off on its own accord.

"I can't possibly ask for what I want when that's everything. Everything, Buck. It's too much to ask for. And I know I can't ask that of you. I'm not expecting anything from you, honest. But yes, I want everything physical and not. I just want you."

Bucky hasn't moved, his eyes don't leave Steve's. He's staring right at him probably in shock.

Slowly, Bucky sits up so Steve does too.

"I'm remembering more," Bucky shares.

"Oh... that's great," Steve says, trying to recover from the word vomit he just embarrassingly spilled. Especially now that Bucky is seemingly changing the topic.

"About us," Bucky clarifies.

"Oh, okay."

"About why we didn't do this back then."

"Oh," Steve frowns.

"It was because of me," Bucky states.

"No, I understood why. It wasn't your fault."

Bucky stares at him and then shakes his head.

"I can make up for it now. Cause I want you too."

Steve's almost speechless at that but eventually he manages the words, "You do?"

Bucky nods.

"I don't know how long it'll take me or if I'll be any good at them," Bucky says softer.

"Hey, don't worry about any of that. I'll wait as long as you need."

"I want you to kiss me again," Bucky tells him.

"Okay," Steve smiles.

Steve starts to lean in but right before their lips touch, Bucky says, "And I'm gonna try to kiss you back and touch you... if that's okay"

"Both of those are very okay," Steve assures him, trying to hide his giddiness.

He leans in and presses their mouths together. He feels Bucky move slightly, his fingertips gently graze Steve's shoulder and begin to trail down his chest.

Then Bucky opens his mouth and kisses Steve more earnestly at the same time his hand glides down Steve's thigh. And it's a lot, so close to the things Steve has been imagining that he moans without meaning to.

Bucky pulls back, looking at him.

"Good?" Bucky checks.

"Very good, but we should keep practicing," Steve coaxes and pulls Bucky back to his lips before he can even respond.

Steve kisses him more urgently now and surprisingly, Bucky falls into sync. He kisses him back just as deeply and Steve's melting under the onslaught on Bucky's lips. He swears it's better than he dreamed.

Making out now becomes a part of their routine and Steve is dying from it. His boners were bad enough as it was but now, his whole body is on fire when he gets to make out with Bucky before and after getting him off.

Bucky doesn't touch Steve typically, although he allows Steve to put his hands anywhere he wants. But one evening, they're making out as per usual and it's after Bucky's handjob. So only Steve is suffocating from his arousal.

On this night, he feels the lightest fingertips touch his thigh and linger. He stops without meaning to and looks down. Bucky draws his hand away.

"No, it's okay," Steve says. "I like being touched."

Bucky makes a complicated face.

"Do you wanna stop now?" Steve offers.

"No."

But neither of them moves to start again. Bucky's hand shifts closer to Steve on the bed but he doesn't touch him yet.

"I want to," Bucky says.

"Touch me? You can," Steve encourages.

Bucky shakes his head. "Return the favor."

Steve looks down at the obscene bulge in his pants and gulps, wanting that more than anything.

"You sure?" Steve asks but his voice has become very breathy since he's already picturing it. Bucky's hands on him — what he's dreamed of too many times to count.

"Yeah."

"Okay," Steve says.

Bucky doesn't move so Steve takes the liberty of opening the fly of his jeans himself. He feels a little shy when he pulls himself out but even the small contact of holding himself makes him sigh with his eyes closed.

He feels Bucky touch his wrist and opens his eyes again.

Bucky looks nervous but determined as his hand gently pulls Steve's off and replaces it with his own hand. Steve swallows, hoping he can last at all for this — for the very thing he'd been waiting for.

Steve's already leaking from sitting so long and Bucky copies Steve's usual habit of swiping the precum with his fingers and spreading it down the shaft. Steve bites his lip, trying not to howl with how good it already feels.

Bucky continues slow and just as gentle. Which makes Steve all the more impatient.

Bucky wraps his whole hand around him now and begins experimenting with sliding his fist up and down the shaft. Steve finally lets out a moan. Bucky looks at him, pausing his hand.

"That's good. You can go faster," Steve nearly pleads.

Bucky's hand moves again and little by little he picks up the pace. He doesn't need to do any fancy tricks, he doesn't need to do much of anything before Steve is shooting his load a minute later.

Steve could be embarrassed but he's on cloud nine, feeling so damn good, he could care less how fast he busted. When he opens his eyes, Bucky is watching him.

"Good, right?" Bucky asks.

"Fucking perfect," Steve pants.

Bucky's eyes widen and Steve's brows knit quickly.

"What?" Steve asks.

"You never curse," Bucky notes.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, I don't usually."

A smile blooms on Bucky's face and abruptly, Steve wonders if Bucky likes cursing. If he should adopt a sailor's mouth to earn that beautiful smile more often.

Oddly, even though they both return the favor now, they don't do it at the same time. That's what Steve learns the next time. Bucky doesn't touch him while Steve's getting him off. Well, except for his lips since they still make out. And all the while, Steve's telling himself it's okay if it was a one-time thing. He'd never ask Bucky to do it again.

But thankfully, when Bucky comes down from his high, he reaches over and takes a hold of Steve to return the favor. So, it's just a thing they do. They take turns and Steve's okay with that. He's grown to love it actually because this way, he can focus on Bucky. Watch him all he wants, really see what he's doing to him, and then he gets his turn after.

Even better, they sometimes cuddle. Steve really loves those nights. And that's when the fantasies of more return. Steve questions if he can hope for more. He's already gotten so much more than he expected but he's not just dreaming of sex, he's envisioning a whole future with Bucky.

That sounds like a lot to ask. Even with Bucky's words 'I want you too' replaying in Steve's mind like a broken record, he's scared Bucky doesn't really know what they mean. At least, to Steve those words mean something very different.

Steve's been waiting his whole life for this, he's not about to mess it up by rushing things.

#stucky #stucky smut #stucky fic #stucky series #series part 4

[thedevilsdom]

In regards to your last post - Yes. The bros being super sensitive during their period, squirming underneath you as you press the wand against them. Lucifer would be so shy about the mess to, trying to clean himself up before hand only to get even more embarrassed by how much more intense this feels than usual. Would orgasm faster than in his entire life and beg for you not to stop.

Cw: transmasc lucifer, 'clit' and 'pussy' used for lucifer, period sex

--

Lucifer's been dealing with pretty intense cramps all day. No amount of medication or heating pads have helped, and he's been miserable. You feel so sorry for him, seeing him in pain like this. The pain was bad enough that he had to take time off from doing his work, so you know that it's serious.

"Please, come on, it'll make you feel better," You say to Lucifer, who is curled up in bed with his arms around his stomach. "We can put a towel down."

Lucifer groans underneath the blanket, still reluctant. You sit on the bed near him and rub your hand up and down his arm reassuringly, and he finally peeks out from under the sheets. His eyes are wet with tears from the pain.

"Oh, my baby," You lay with him, pulling him close to you. "Please let me help you?"

Cradled against your chest, he finally nods and relents. He's hesitant to let go of you, but eventually does so you can go get what you need. When you return to him, you've got a towel slung over your shoulder and your vibrating wand in the other hand. Immediately, you lay the towel out on the bed, doubling it up.

"At- at least let me go clean myself up, first," Lucifer sighs, throwing the blanket off of his body and leaving for the bathroom attached to his bedroom. You almost wanted to tell him that he was going to get messy in the process anyways, but you keep that to yourself. When he re-emerges, dressed in one of his loose house shirts and his underwear, you pat the top on the bed for him, your other hand occupied with your now plugged in wand.

"Can we do it over my underwear?" He asks as he tentatively sits down on the towel. His cheeks are dusted pink and he isn't looking you in the eye. Your hand rests on top of his,

"If you want. Here," You take a seat behind him, positioning him to sit between your heags, leaning back against your chest. He's warm from his embarrassment, and his brow is still furrowed from the pain of his cramps. "I'm going to take good care of you, alright?"

"Please, just start..." He mutters, already so embarrassed before you've even begun. Your free hand roams his chest, softly rubbing his sensitive nipples over his shirt. Then you turn the wand on the lowest setting and move it between his spread legs, not making contact just yet. His breath trembles.

When you finally do touch him, pushing the head of the wand against his sensitive pussy, he jolts as though he's been shocked. His legs immediately tense, but don't close, and he pushes his back against you more. He gives you and astonished look.

"Have you never touched yourself during your period, Lucifer?" You muse. He shakes his head. Just the lowest setting already feels so intense. "You get more sensitive," You murmur, leaning down to kiss the nape of his neck, "And you get more needy for this. Doesn't this feel good?"

Lucifer's whining already. The cramps haven't abated, but the pleasure is at least helping to distract him.

"It sounds like my needy boy wants some more," You press the head of the wand against him a little more firmly, and increase the intensity to level two of five.

That gets his back arching. He babbles out some nonsense, jaw clenched and head pressed back against your shoulder, hands gripping the blanket. It's shameful how sensitive he is, he's already close.

"MC, MC, W-wait!" He squeaks, eyes squeezed shut and hand blindly feeling for yours. "Close!"

"Cum for me then, baby."

Lucifer howls up towards the ceiling, legs squeezing shut hard around the vibe, trapping it against his sensitive pussy while he bucks and ruts against it. His toes curl and he can't think about anything other than chasing more of this pleasure. The hot coil of arousal in his stomach finally snapped.

"Good boy," You purr, hand rubbing down his body as he comes out of his orgasm, legs dropping open and allowing you to remove the wand from him.

"More," He pants out, flipping himself to be om his knees, caging you in, "I need you to fuck me, I need more-!" He dives down, capturing your lips against his.

You've opened Pandora's box, and you're a bit worried that you've just created an insatiable beast, but you're glad to see that he's at least forgotten about his pain.

#lucifer #trans character #obey me #dom reader #afab character #periods #my writing

[tomwambsmilk]

absolutely agree with you about the shiv drinking being a super separate thing to whether she keeps the baby and like the impact that will have. I think it's much more interesting even to look at it like "either she's already aborted it and is continuing as usual, or she feels immune to the consequences of drinking while pregnant," or something else more complicated and tangled. like Ming always says about succession being reproductive horror, the implications of her drinking are Much more interesting and nuanced than "she's trying to induce a miscarriage through drinking." and that is just looking at it from the media angle and not even from the. real life existence and repercussions of fetal alcohol syndrome.

Scrolling back through some old asks and this is from a week or so ago after I was posting about the 'shiv killing the baby with alcohol' jokes. Anyways. I wanted to come back to it because Shiv was maybe drinking again this week (other people have pointed out that in the scenes where she's holding alcohol, she tends not to definitively drink, which could be Shiv avoiding booze or could be Sarah Snook not actually drinking because she has lines, who knows). And I think you're right that, setting aside all the jokes and looking at the character and the narrative, yeah, I think both of those are strong possibilities. I'll also say that I know some doctors will advise that alcohol is okay in moderation, which - personally that's not a risk I'd take because of my experiences having family members with FASD, but I'm not a medical doctor I guess. So there is a third possibility where she's been advised that alcohol is okay 'in moderation', but because of how integral alcohol is to the way Waystar conducts business her idea of 'moderation' is very different than anyone else's. Still, it could contribute to the idea that FASD is something other women have to worry about, not her.

Or, it could be a 'fuck-it' response - in the bar before Logan dies she's drinking club soda, so it's very possible she didn't drink through that first 20 weeks. But her father just died and she's been told it's okay in moderation so fuck it, she'll have a few drinks, what the hell, it should be fine, right? It's just a temporary thing. In that case it could be associated with her grief, and could maybe be an indicator that she's anticipating her grief to be briefer than it actually will be - making the personal exception of 'I'll drink when I'm grieving and it'll be fine' only works if you expect your grief to last a few days, and not much more.

I will admit that there is a part of me that sees the logic of it being a sort of fetal russian roulette. I don't think Shiv wants to make a choice in either direction. On the podcast, Lucy Prebble said that being pregnant isn't necessarily bad news in itself - but it is horrendous timing. That makes a decision much harder than if no part of her ever wanted to be pregnant, especially if she isn't sure about the state of her marriage with Tom, and especially if she's not sure she'll ever find someone else, which I could see being a very real fear. There are obviously options for single women who want to have kids, but because of the dynastic implications of Roy pregnancies, I doubt Shiv would feel comfortable going the route of a sperm donor or adoption. Still, it's not how she wanted to have kids, if she had kids. And with the push-pull of those two influences, it certainly becomes easier if the decision is made for her. I could see her drinking as sort of a "if it's fine it's fine and if it's not it's not" sort of situation, consequently.

Tbh I'm not opposed to interpreting the drinking in light of the pregnancy - I was mostly just a bit upset about people making light of something that has had such serious impacts on my life and the lives of the people that I love. It's one thing for Shiv the character to be flippant or unconcerned about it, but the 'kill it with booze' jokes just rubbed me the wrong way because of my own experiences

#asks #anon #succession spoilers

[misterewrites]

Year Two and a Halfish (Threads of Fate)

Hi! E here still alive. Been. a while. Sorry if you were expecting updates sooner my laptop was having some serious black screen issues and every attempt at sending it to get repaired is getting stonewalled and honestly it's infuriating and yeah. That happened. Hopefully this time it gets properly fixed and i can go back to writing consistently. I'm just using my mom's laptop to write in the meantime.

So it's super late but Merry Christmas @hains-mae! WOO! this is her gift that she requested at the time (I was pretty surprised when she wanted me to write this story but then i was promptly told she wanted her Solider Poet King for her birthday so that explained everything haha.

I started working on this a few days ago and unfortunately something happened here in America relates in a small part to the story. Honestly maybe I'm overreacting or overthinking it but I also know a lot of people read this story and i rather be overly prepped than accidentally not doing enough

Mae wanted a situation where Jason loses it after you, the reader, is injured. She gave me little requests like Robin's line and has to end in all warm feel goodness (cuz i am not legally allowed to write angst haha) so I have chosen that the reader is shot in the shoulder.

Yeah my little thing makes sense now.

It gets a bit intense, maybe? I can never tell cuz I'm writing it. Like i said I could be overthinking this but heads up. It also does end very sweet and homely and all that goodness so no worries. If you don't feel like reading it I understand.

Stay safe everyone. Lose yourself in a story whether it be mine or someone else's and just relax. breath. It'll be okay. Even if it seems like a lot right now.

So yeah hopefully I'll have my laptop fixed and we're all good but at least for now i have an alternate means of writing! Next is probably Mirror's Edge, Mae's birthday gift, Mirror's edge, another gift i owe but that's a personal one that won't be posted.

Be safe, take care of yourself and your loved ones. Wear masks (i know i know but remember you can pass them on to people with compromised immune systems.) remember to get the vaccine or booster cuz it'll help make it bearable. It's okay to just exist and be and let the world pass you by. One step at a time together. Also vaccine worldwide push for it cuz it's important and frankly whatever you feel is important. The issues that matter to you and remember. It'll be okay.

That's it for me! E is out have a great week and i'll see you really soon!

If you want to read this from the start you can find the whole story on this really awesome site right here! https://archiveofourown.org/works/29955270/chapters/73737858

For the rest of my work that includes some awesome original work (so i am told haha) Arcane Legend of Zelda and Soul Eater you can find that over here https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/pseuds/MrE42

Summary: A few months later, you are trying to get to work when a very unfortune thing happens. For better or worse Red Hood is saving the day.

-----

It’s pretty cold right now. I…I don’t recall ever feeling this cold before.

Wait. That’s not…true. I think. I’m pretty sure I’ve been this cold before.

Have I?

Whenever Mister Freeze has a snow day it gets really cold.

I feel for him, I do but...

God it’s cold. Or is it warm? My head is warm. Hands not so much. Feet freezing too.

Am I cold? I can’t tell. Everything is a lot right now. The floor is damp I know that much. I can see my breath frozen midair for a moment.

Someone is yelling, waving something towards me from overhead but I can’t focus. Everything’s a bit blurry.

Why does my side hurt? Fuck did I pull something again? I really hope not. I have work tomorrow. Eww wet too. Did I spill something?

Wait, no. Today. I have work today. Right now I think. What time is it?

Shit why do I feel weak? Arm’s shaking too. I didn’t forget to eat again did I? Ugh Jason’s going to kill me.

Hee, Jason. He’s soooo handsome. I have no idea why he wants out hang with me though. He is way out of my league. Like he’s fucking Batman’s son! HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO IMPRESS THE ACTUAL SON OF BATMAN!?

Mister Wayne? Bruce? Bruce. No not Bruce. I’ve never met him, I don’t think I can be on a first name basis with freaking Batman if I’ve never met him. Well him him. I’ve been saved by the bats before. Few times actually.

I should really thank him for Jason. He’s just amazing.

Okay so maybe I drank a lot. Why am I thinking of Jason?

Ugh, this asshat is yelling at me still. What the hell does he want? He’s talking to me right? Ugh my head’s pounding, I can’t hear anything.

The guy seems frantic, keeps looking back expecting something but I have no idea what. He just keeps gesturing to his open hand. What the fuck does he…

FUCK! That’s right this asshole shot me!

I wince as the sound turns back on all at once: The angry honking of impatient drivers, the numbing chatter of a thousand people living in a concrete jungle as one. The adrenaline is making my senses so sharp I can hear the dripping water splatting against the cold floor of the alley.

I must’ve gone into shock without realizing it. I mean I was just shot so can you blame me?

My shoulder is burning with a white hot pain I only felt twice in my life: Once when Bane slammed a mailbox into me and when I was 12 and I was really trying to…

You know what? Not important. More pressing matters right now.

I remember now that my flight or fight kicked in: I was late to work and I tried cutting through an alley for a shortcut.

Terrible idea in Gotham I know but this one was brightly lit. I didn’t think anyone was stupid enough to try anything.

So naturally the universe decides to give me the one stupidest person who would try.

He waves his gun at me again (it was a gun. Duh.) but honestly I’m too wired to care. Plus he shot a hole in my favorite jacket! AND IT’S GOT BLOOD RUNNING DOWN IT! DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO GET BLOOD OUT OF CLOTHING?! Really fucking hard.

Oh. Shit. I’m bleeding out. That’s probably important too.

I try to pick myself off the floor but he takes a step forward, threatening me with the gun again.

“I’ll shoot!” he yells.

Even now, with the last possible moments of my life slipping away, I can’t help but be a smartass.

“You already did you asshat! Shooting me again isn’t gonna make me want to give you my money anymore than the first time!”

Gonna die as I lived: Sassy.

He clicks the hammer on the gun, prepping it to fire again.

I…I feel numb. The adrenaline lessens the pain but it’s still mind dumbing. I just want to scream and fight and yell and go down swinging.

But that’s not who I am. I’m not some superhero or even a regular hero. I’m just a person trying to make my way through this chaotic journey called life. I couldn’t even get up and now because some idiot wants the 10 bucks and a very, very old video rental card to a place that doesn’t exist anymore in my wallet, it was about to end.

I could feel fear bite at my resolve, a dreadful overwhelming sense of finality wash over me. Goosebumps crawled down my skin, the air felt stuffy and too cold all at once as time slowed to a crawl.

I….

I can’t even think.

I’m just scared. I don’t want to go out this way.

I took a deep breath and close my eyes.

I think of my mom, waiting for my phone call later.

I think about Jason Jr, a cat I adopted by accident cuz he had streak of white that was way too familiar. Feed them once and every Jason refuses to leave you.

I do my best to not think of him but Jason Jr leads to Jason the human: His piercing blue eyes that feel like he’s seeing deep into my soul. His messy black hair with that one streak of white that made him so iconic, so distinct from his brothers. The various knicks, tiny bruises, cuts and scars from years being Robin then the Red Hood. Invisible from afar but so, so clear up close.

I can hear his laugh, mostly teasing but with a hint of warmth when I do something dumb. The way shows off his prowess with a knife and how proud he beams when I clap excitedly. Wide smirks when we get into one of our playful chats and jabs. The small smile that graces his lips when he thinks I’m not looking. The quiet thoughtful look when something troubles him. A distance gaze only someone who has experienced for too much has.

I see Jason in my mind but I don’t want that. I want to look him in eye when he tries to be all broody and cool. I want to mess with his hair and tease him about his terrible tastes in books. I want to see him again!

Not like this. No fucking way. I have no idea how I’m going to go but I refuse to let it be like this.

I snap out of my stupor, time seemingly unmoved by whatever deeply reflective crap I just did.

He still has his hand on the gun. I’m still on the floor and this still sucks.

I prep my body, tensing and wincing from my aching shoulder but I try not to be distracted. One shot and whether it works or not, I’m not going to go quietly.

“JUST GIVE ME YOUR MONEY!” the man screams hysterically.

“Fuck you.” I spit out as I’m ready to make my move.

The red string tied around my finger slackens, distracting me at a really bad time but suddenly goes taut like someone is pulling at it.

A thud is all I hear and suddenly the guy is gone. Just vanished into thin air.

I weakly try to stand but my legs turn to jelly and honestly I’m not in fight or flight anymore. I’m in “the floor is nice and solid and I’m just gonna lay here” mode.

So I do just that and fall back on the floor and decide to exist for like the next ten minutes.

I mean I would’ve if something didn’t pick me up.

“Are you okay?” A voice asks, young. Younger than me at least.

“Umm.” I smartly reply.

The young man hums thoughtfully “You’ve been shot.”

“Yeah. That thing.”

“Shock.” He concludes before slipping my good arm over his neck and helps me over to a wall. I take this sec to look and am unsurprised to find Red Robin at my side.

“JA.…” Someone else from above calls out, nearly saying a full name before realizing his mistakes “HOOD!”

Hood? Jason. Jason is the Hood. Jason is here. God I’m tired.

He doesn’t respond if he is here.

A figure elegantly sails through the air, tucking into an impossible swan dive only a skilled master of acrobatics whose trained his entire life could manage so effortlessly.

Plus that’s Nightwing’s ass. It doesn’t matter where you land on orientation, everyone in Gotham and Bludhaven knows that ass.

“HOOD!” Nightwing shouts, less cheery goofyball as per his usual self and more firm. More worried.

Red Robin looks now and his practiced, measured posture drops. He doesn’t even bother to hide his brother’s name.

“Jason. Jason stop! JASON!”

Nightwing has already broken into a full sprint towards where I assume Jason is but Red Robin take a second to make sure I’m comfortable. He places me against the wall and hands me a thick cloth to press over my shoulder. A second later and he’s off. My eyes follow and land on Jason.

Except he’s not Jason right now. He’s Red hood and the difference is….staggering to be honest.

I…forget who he is, the brand of justice he deals out with harsh sentences. Somehow, despite how we first met, I managed to split Jay and Hood into two different entities. Two different people who never happened to be in the same room at the same time.

But now, seeing Jason rain blow and blow upon my attacker, I see it.

Jason favors his right side. He’s amberidext-something but that’s from years of training. He says it feels more natural to him, easier for him to focus on other things.

Red likes using the right too. He’s just a fraction faster using his favored side and it’s clear even with his build that he is quick and there’s power in each punch.

Jason is light on his feet but has a solid stance. He loves to boast how it takes all his siblings to hold back him even if he’s not really trying to break free.

Nightwing can’t stop him neither can Red Robin. They’ve all had the same training from the same teacher but they’re not the same. They all have their strengths: Nightwing was blessed with an inhuman grace (and ass). RR is as smart as Batman and just as capable as a detective.

But Jason? Just a force of nature. Pure muscle and strength only equaled by his mentor and with a will to match.

They could barely slow the battle crazed Hood. It took all they had to pull him back but I could see by the sweat on their brows that it was only a matter of time before he broke free from their grasp. He was like a shark that smelled blood in the water and he wasn’t going to stop until he felt the price of injustice had been paid.

Another figure descended from the roof, smaller in stature and wearing an all too iconic yellow and black outfit: Robin. Well the newest Robin since everyone here minus me was Robin at some point.

You know when you’re drained of adrenaline you get reeeeeeally out of it.

Robin cautiously approached the trashing Red Hood, well aware of how dangerous his brother could be.

“Todd.” Robin spoke firmly “This is wrong. You know this is wrong.”

“Yeah Jay!” Nightwing pitched in quickly “And that’s coming from the kid. Imagine how you’re acting if he’s saying that.”

Robin openly glared “Watch your tongue Grayson.”

“Guys, could we deal with the rampaging Jason before we start snipping at each other?” Red Robin pleaded with immense strain.

Nightwing tightened his grip “Jay please. They’re watching.”

Jason’s shoulders slump as realization dawned on him. I could physically note when the exact moment the fight left him.

And me as I promptly passed out.

-----

I wish I could tell you after such a harrowing ordeal that I reflected with a deep and newly acquired profound understanding of my existence, the importance of living each day to the fullest and my place in the universe for really I am the instrument in which the universe….

Yeah no. I woke up on a cloud and instantly hated existing cuz pain is not fun.

I’m not exaggerating by the way. I found myself on the most comfortable bed I have ever been. It was like it was molded for me, shaping around my body in a way that didn’t aggravate my aches. I mean it didn’t stop them but I’ll take anything I could get.

“I see you are awake.”

I couldn’t even flail so I settled for screaming at the top of my lungs.

The most British older gentleman I have ever seen regarded me with a stony face of indifference though I swore I saw a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

“I must admit I have never illicit that particular response before.” He said dryly complete with stiff upper lip “But I can see why it is Master Bruce’s favorite.”

I could feel my cheeks burn “Ah yes. Sorry I….sorry. Umm good morning mister…?”

The man gave a bow “Pennyworth. Normally I would ask you to refer to me as such but seeing as young Master Jason has spoken about you at great length and detail it seems only fair we are on a more familiar basis. Alfred is my name.”

I chuckled nervously as realization dawns on me “Yes. Please forgive me…Alfred? Sir? I…Long night.”

“I should say so what with that bullet lodged in your shoulder.”

I could feel my shoulder ache dully at the reminder.

“Ugh I gotta get to a hospital huh? Don’t want to get lead poisoning. Umm Alfred, sir, do you know if Gotham Blue covers gunshot wounds? My brain is still a bit scrambled.” I speak honestly.

Even his laugh is dry “Do not worry. I have taken the liberty of removing the round as you were sleeping. It made the process simpler and more efficient. A refreshing change of pace I will admit. My usual patients like to insist very serious gunshot wounds fall under the category of merely a ‘scratch’.”

I opened my mouth to reply but someone else answered for me “We’re bats Alfred. Comes with the territory that we get shot at.”

Jason sauntered into the room lazily but I knew he’d been worried: His hair was extra messy and matted, his shoulders slumped as his posture hunched over. His hands were stuffed into his pockets, probably fiddling with whatever he had inside. His gaze was intensely focused on Alfred but I could see him struggling not to look at me.

Alfred’s gave a slight smile “Ah yes. Forgive me Master Todd but I do recall there is quite the difference between being shot at and being shot in general. One many of you seem to have difficulty grasping.”

Jason shrugged, unsure what to say.

“Beg your pardon” Alfred turned to me “I must prepare breakfast. I shall be back shortly with some French toast and fresh bandages for your wound.”

With a polite bow Alfred briskly left the room and sent a scurrying of hurried feet racing from the door.

Silence, not awkward but still tense. The lingering sense of shame filled the air.

Jason wouldn’t look at me.

“Your siblings will be back soon.” I nudged him helpfully “If you want a private conversation I’d say we got like 5 minutes.”

“Twenty.” Jason mumbled uneasily “They really like to scatter to make sure no one is suspicious but Alfred and Bruce know us too well to fall for it. Alfred will suddenly find tiny and convenient issues around the house to prevent them from circling back and Bruce will track one or two down to have a quick chat.”

“Neat.” I said honestly.

Silence fell over us again but I knew it was because Jason was gathering his thoughts into words. When things really mattered he always took his time.

“I’m sorry.” He said, still refusing to meet my gaze.

I scoffed loudly “I wasn’t aware you shot me.”

“This isn’t the time for being a smartass!”

“It isn’t the time for being a dumbass either but here you are.”

“I know you saw me.”

I sighed deeply “Of course I saw you. What, do you think I never wanna see you again?”

Jason remained quiet.

“Look.” I tried to sit up “I’m not gonna pretend like I know what your life’s been like and what you did last night was…a lot.”

“Don’t move, you’ll make it worse.” He said but I ignored him.

“Make me Jay.”

Jason whirled around so quick I nearly didn’t see him gently push me onto back.

“Oww.” I wheezed but Jason held a firm yet careful hold on me “Cheater.”

“How? How did I cheat?” Jason gave a cutely offended look.

I snort “Alphabetically or chronologically?”

Jason glared “If you say Batman trained me one more time…”

“Am I lying?” I smirked “The most training I got was little league and I sucked at it.”

“You hit a homerun once” He offered helpfully.

I rolled my eyes playfully “I hit home, not a homerun. Big diff Jay.”

“True. Only you could hit the homebase and send it flying 5 feet.”

“Hey! It was 20 feet. Minimum.”

“Mhm sure. My bad.” Jason finally grinned “I suppose you also managed to get 5 points for doing that too.”

“Don’t forget the scholarship too! You always forget the scholarship.”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“No!”

“Duh!”

We stared at each other deeply for a moment before breaking out into laughter.

Well Jason did. I took one breath and suddenly I was violently coughing.

“Oww oww oww.”

“Idiot.” He mumbled as he tucked me into the sheets.

I gave a cheesy grin “Worth it.”

Jason raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“Okay no, not really” I admitted “That hurt way more than I was expecting.”

“Rest.” Jason threatened me with arms crossed.

I was too tired to care the words “Only if you’re here to keep an eye on me.” Tumbled out of my mouth before I thought better.

Jason shifted guiltily “Look I…”

In for a pound. I gently placed on my hand over his “We’ll talk about it later. For now it’s over and honestly I really don’t wanna think about it this second. I am just….really happy to see you Jay.”

He took my hand in his.

“You really need to stop taking shortcuts.” He scolded lightly.

“Hey!” I raised my free hand defensively “There were lights! What kind of idiot tries to rob someone in a well lit alley?!”

“The one that shot you yesterday.”

“No shit Jay.” I glared openly at him but all he did was smirk in response.

As beautiful as this moment was, I had to ruin it. A thought began to bother me and Jason noticed.

Jason motioned with his head “Don’t think too hard. Your body can’t handle the strain right now.”

“Oh shut it. You said Bruce was gonna intercept your siblings, right?”

“Umm yeah.” Jason was unsure where I was going with this “He pretends to be emotionally constipated but he’s very good at bed side manner and respectful with privacy.”

I nodded in agreement “Have you ever brought anyone to here?”

Jason’s face fell “Oh no.”

“Emotionally constipated? You’re being unusually kind today Jason.”

The doors flung open and in strode the one, the only, the myth, the legend and Jay’s father: Bruceman.

Shit I mean Batwayne. Brucebat.

Bruce motherfreaking Wayne gave me a million dollar smile “Hello I’m Bruce Wayne. It is so nice to meet you. Jason never brings any of his friends over.”

I could feel myself pale as I stared dumbfounded at his outstretched hand.

Then I promptly passed out.

#My work #Red Hood X reader #DC #Batfam #Red Hood #Reader #X-mas gift

[zivazivc]

Oooh! I'm very curious about the 'MLffic acrocat začetek.'

okay okay, I made this file back when I actually thought I was going to turn the acrocat AU into a proper fanfic.

But aside from a very rough large chunk of the first chapter and some random bits, this story is pretty much up in the air. I might publish some random scenes in the future but that's as close as I'm willing to get to writing a proper multichapter story because writing takes a lot out of me, and for me it's much more of a leisurely hobby than drawing.

That's why I'm posting the whole start of the fic that I have written out since I doubt it'll ever see the day otherwise. especially since i don't like it that much anymore.

I have to repeat tho, it's very rough with lots of grammatical mistakes - even for me whose writing isn't exactly up there... but i’m not a native english speaker and this is a "wip game" so you probably already expect that...

“Pound it!”

The butterfly had been purified, the victim saved, and all the destruction had been restored to the Stravinsky Fountain and its surrounding buildings.

Police had already arrived on the scene minutes ago, worrying over the de-akumatized soaking wet man in his early twenties, whose friends were still being hurried over, and over the few Parisians who got caught in his final outburst around the monument. 

Headlights of a news van, that seemed to operate an emergency night shift, were visible getting closer driving down the street along the Pompidou Centre, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Paris super heroes on camera and possibly get a comment on the event.

Chat Noir had detached himself from the comotion happening on the other end of the playful, colorful fountain as he stared at his partner’s smile behind their fist bump of a job well done.

“We’re getting good, M'Lady. We didn’t even need to use my Cataclysm for this one,” he said confidently and leaned his cocky grin closer to her. Water dripped from his wet bangs and chin, which was sadly ruining the irresistibly charming look he was trying to pull off.

Ladybug to his surprise didn’t even react with her usual smirk. Her unfocused eyes showed no reaction if she heard his remark or not, seemingly lost in thought. As if on autopilot, she took a step back onto the pool ledge and immediately threw her yoyo over Chat’s head, which hooked around the top of the Church of Saint-Merri behind him.

Chat almost got upset for a second that Ladybug was in such a hurry to get away. Was she actually mad about the lighthearted funny comments he’d made earlier? 

But the way the girl glanced over her shoulder and blinked focus into her eyes told him that wasn't it and she just wanted to get out of there before they could get flooded with reporters again.

Her eyes finally sharpened on him, proving to him that she had been listening. “Massage your ego all you want, kitty, but this Akuma just wasn’t all that strong,” she smirked at him teasingly, as if she had only now let his words register in her mind.

Before Chat could react she already pulled herself to the roof, away from the bright lights and curious onlookers, and Chat Noir was quick to follow her with his elongated staff, not giving her a chance to swing out of his sight.

“My claws are a little too sharp for massages. Maybe you could give me a hand?” he said as they ran over the church roof.

Ladybug laughed but didn’t spare him a glance as she jumped across the street on the other side and zipped onto the closest building and onward. Her costume kept disappearing out of sight behind chimneys or trees for only seconds at a time but Chat held his breath each time, anticipating to see her reappear on the other end.

Jumping, swinging and vaulting over the roofs, with their hair and faces against the still night air felt almost like an adrenaline high game of cat and mouse. So once they stopped a few hundred meters away behind a wide wall of chimney pots and Ladybug spoke up with an unusually serious tone it caught Chat Noir off guard.

His ears perked up. He hadn’t heard her sound so thoughtful and troubled in a while but her expression was the same as the one back at the fountain. It wasn’t her usual sharp eyes and concentrated frown like during their battles when she needed to figure out her lucky charm. Her gaze was far away on something intangible.

“I wonder what Hawk Moth’s up to…”

Chat hadn’t given too much thought to the villain lately. Fighting the akumas had become such a routine that sometimes he almost forgot they had a source.

He was quiet as he followed the girl and sat down beside her on the cold metal roofing, their legs splayed down the sloping roof in front of them.

“What did he think he’d achieve with akumatizing someone who’s nearly blind drunk? The only tough thing about this akuma was trying to judge if moving out of the way of his swings was necessary or not.”

Chat snorted quietly. That was how the fight had moved from the exterior of the Pompidou Centre, where they were trying to get him bound with Ladybug’s yoyo to one of the pillars, all the way down to the Stravinsky Fountain. Ladybug had jumped out of the way of the Akuma’s swing—the swing that missed and then hit her dead center because she moved. She was sent flying directly into the sculpture of plum bright red lips that she knocked over, spraying water everywhere. The sight hadn’t exactly been funny as it happened but once he reached her and was assured that she was fine, Chat couldn’t help but grin at her sitting comfortably on giant lips, soaking wet. He asked if she was trying to make him jealous. Ladybug rolled her eyes and whacked his shoulder for that one.

Honestly the whole fight in the fountain was absurdly hilarious in hindsight, Chat now thought.

“I’m just glad neither of us got barfed on.”

This time he saw Ladybug’s shoulders shake in a chuckle but no sound came.

A silence fell between them and Chat used it to tussle his hair with his hand, trying to get rid of the last remains of fountain water he had gotten splashed in his face right after Ladybug called her restoring power which dried both of them up along with fixing all the damage the akuma and the battle caused. He had kind of asked for it—jokingly commenting that the magically restored mermaid statue in the fountain next to which Ladybug stood had nothing on her aqua form. Ladybug’s face had turned red from the remark and Chat’s grin, and she kicked water at him that thankfully couldn’t soak through his magical suit but got his face and bangs wet again nonetheless.

Chat Noir was brought out of his thoughts when Ladybug spoke up again.

“This whole week, it’s like Hawk Moth decided to switch to quantity over quality...”

Chat’s green eyes glowed bright for just a second when he turned his head and light from a nearby street lamp got reflected in them. The dark of the night and the extra shadow from the chimney behind them made even Ladybug’s bright red costume next to him almost invisible to any prying eyes in the street below them. But his cat vision allowed him to fully take in her expression. The slight frown and the shadow of her wrinkled brows under the mask, her eyes still lost in thought.

He still wanted to joke about the recent battle shenanigans but dropped it when the serious mood finally set in with him. His smile disappeared.

Ladybug’s earrings beeped for the first time and she lifted her hand to gently touch one. Her mouth parted with a low exhale but she didn’t get up to leave. She continued staring into the distance until she finally sensed Chat Noir’s gaze on her. Her big blue eyes looked directly at him and she raised her brows questionably.

Chat straightened up. He should say something instead of dragging Ladybug’s bad mood with his silence.

“That might be a good thing!” he flipped his wrist encouragingly. “Maybe he’s getting impatient. Which means he’ll get sloppy.”

Ladybug hummed. She didn’t sound assured.

The two had to deal with six of Hawk Moth’s Akumas in the last five days. It was true that they hadn't been very powerful or strong-willed but Chat Noir understood that didn’t mean they weren’t supposed to be taken any less seriously. If anything, the frequency of them was putting a serious toll on Adrien’s life. As if intentionally planned, all the Akuma emergencies this week had to have taken place while he was busy with one of his scheduled unpostponable responsibilities. It made Chat wonder if he had the worst luck ever or if his schedule had really been that packed for this week. At least tonight he had been free in his room doing homework when the Akuma alert showed up on his phone and he didn’t have to blurt out ‘stomachache’ or something even more embarrassing before running off from one responsibility to the next one.

Chat Noir didn’t want to dwell on the fact that Adrien’s life was a mess at the moment. But from what he could guess, Ladybug’s was too if her current mood happened to have more than one source… 

“Maybe…” the girl exhaled tiredly beside him, and proved his suspicion correct with her next words, “but my civilian life’s going to become harder and harder to keep up with if this goes on. And I can’t afford to get careless there! I have a miracle box to keep safe! If anyone finds out my-”

Chat Noir laid a hand on hers to stop her from over-stressing herself. “No one’s going to find out your identity.” 

Her shoulders fell and she finally smiled back.—Gratefully, and Chat’s heart soared. 

Ladybug turned her hand over to intertwine their fingers and turned to stare up at the night sky.

A dozen butterflies decided to come to life in Chat Noir’s stomach in that one second. They were holding hands! Should he point it out? Should he say anything? No, this wasn’t the time for one of his flirtatious comments. Ladybug needed reassurance. And it would just ruin the moment even if it was only his.

He could feel his face heating up but he tried to ignore it. He bit his tongue and tore his eyes from the small hand in his clawed one and followed the girl’s gaze.

It had still been somewhat light outside when the Akuma showed up but now white stars dotted the black sky above the orange haze.

Ladybug’s earrings beeped a second time and Chat felt the girl squeeze his hand as if to suck out some of the confidence and reassurance he had tried to offer to her before letting go of him and laying her hands in her lap, starting to fidget with her fingers nervously.

Chat Noir didn’t know what to do with his empty hand either and once he laid it back on the roof he was disappointed to feel the cold metal suck all the warmth right out of it.

“Aren’t you a bit too confident about that? Don’t your friends and family wonder where you disappear to all the time?” Ladybug asked carefully.

They tried to avoid any conversations about their civilian lives but Chat was sympathetic of her need to bring that up, although he himself didn’t like to think about it. At least not about his life. Not while he was Chat Noir. It was bad enough when such thoughts crept up on him, but starting them actively was almost like a punishment. Like thinking about homework while at an amusement park.

Ladybug wanted this conversation and his mental wall caved in quickly.

Regarding his friends, they weren't so difficult to dodge. Being allowed to hang out with them had often been a new battle to be won against his father or Nathalie. And that was no longer news to them. So they no longer questioned his flakiness if he canceled their plans at the last minute or had to cut a hangout short. Sudden photo shoots, fittings, meetings and whatnot were handy excuses to blurt out before changing into Chat Noir behind the nearest corner. A stinging conscience was a side effect he had learned to ignore through the years of his upbringing. 

His home was a different story however. Despite the fact that his father rarely found the time to be in the same room as him he was still smothered by him in some sense of the word. Adrien had a strict schedule he had to follow. Everywhere he went he was monitored by Nathalie or his bodyguard, and Father's rules. Finding loopholes in the curriculum was practically an art form he'd been perfecting for a while. Although he had come to realize it wasn't handy for spontaneous Akuma missions that often came at the worst of times.—Example: this whole week.—School, fencing, basketball, karate, photo shoots, runways, social events, evening tutoring, Chinese lessons, and the new Japanese course he had recently had dumped on him weren't exactly things he could postpone for an hour and then come back to like at least homework and studying were. He had to come up with most excuses on the spot for why he would or had disappeared, and hope that Nathalie would wrap them up with a nice bow before passing them to his father. 

Chat Noir’s mind was rambling and his silence forced Ladybug to redirect her gaze from the starry sky back at him. Silence from him was unusual and the girl didn’t hide the concern that shifted onto him. 

“Kitty?”

Chat Noir realized he had been unresponsively staring at his boots this whole time. He clicked the paw-shaped toe caps together a couple of times, as if to wrap up his thoughts and store them away, before turning to his troubled partner and grinning toothily. 

"It's a good thing everyone knows that cats do as they please and don't do well on leashes," is what he ended up telling Ladybug. Adrien’s problems were not Chat Noir’s.

Ladybug’s expression went from concerned to surprised to unimpressed in the span of a second. “I’m being serious, you know?”

He smoothed out his smile into a softer one. “I guess I did skip on a lot of ‘somethings’ this week. I’ll have to think of some really good excuses this time.”

“‘Somethings’?” Ladybug quoted, sounding as amused as exasperated. Them keeping their identities from each other meant that a lot of the things they did or had got described as simply ‘something’. “Well I’m glad to know you aren’t a stray with no responsibilities. I almost got worried there for a second that I’ll have to adopt you.”

Chat laughed at the mental image. “I wouldn’t mind being yours, M'Lady.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes. She should have expected he’d say something like that. She was practically asking for it. “An unfaithful alley cat doesn’t sound very appealing,” she poked at his side just as her earrings beeped a third time.

“Well, gotta go, kitty, if I want to get home in time.” She stood up. “You should go home, too. You wouldn’t want your owners to start putting up missing posters.”

This time Chat Noir rolled his eyes as he waved her off and Ladybug swung away in the direction of the Seine.

The boy watched her until she was out of sight, then he laid down on the roofing to stare at the sky, allowing the last of the butterflies to linger hopefully. 

He’d been out a while by that point but he still didn’t feel like going home. After a few more minutes he got up to head there anyway. He still had to write a conclusion to his biology assignment that they were handing in tomorrow.

As he jumped and vaulted over the roofs he let the feeling of freedom consume him a little longer. Rising and falling through the air was exhilarating and rewarding. Homework be damned, he could do this all night.

His elongated staff eventually vaulted him over the Agreste mansion’s wall directly towards the shelf of his open window. At Least it had been opened. Because instead of easily jumping into his room, like he'd done many times before, he banged his front on the glass and bruised his nose.

“Ow! Oh… Oh no…” Oh no no no no no! This was bad. This was very very bad!

He gave the window frame an extra push hoping that it was just closed and not also locked but his eyes quickly noticed the position of the handle on the other side. It was definitely locked. Wide eyes stared at it with a sinking feeling and a sudden dread gripped Chat by the throat. 

He stood frozen to the spot for a good twenty seconds before he finally pulled himself together barely enough to turn around and jump into the nearby tree where he could hide before anyone could spot him. Crouching down on the closest branch with his back on the trunk, he stared at his nice bright inaccessible room. 

He was locked out. Well he wasn't locked out out because the back and front doors were still possible options but the idea of getting caught sneaking into the house at this hour when he had supposedly been in his room all this time was a scary one. Adrien tried to visualize in his head how his father and Nathalie might react based on his similar past misbehaviors but he was sure this would be the worst one yet.

He tried to keep himself in line most of the time. He didn’t sneak out late as Adrien and he’d never been caught as Chat Noir.

The boy eventually figured he couldn't stay on the branch forever. He dropped to the base of the tree before quietly calling out to detransform.

He felt his kwami’s warm laid-back presence leave him, making his anxiety that much more intense. Chill air surrounded his bare forearms and crept through the thin layers of fabric. Adrien shuddered.

He wasn’t even dressed like he’d just been outside… Father and Nathalie would have questions. Could he, from the fact that he was at least wearing shoes, call himself ‘lucky’? He suddenly started feeling queasy on top of everything.

When the costume disappeared Plagg immediately zipped into Adrien’s hair to hide. But now he had taken in their surroundings of the Agreste back garden and the locked tall windows above them.

His head rose from the blonde’s locks, ears perking up. “So this is what this last minute panic is about. And here I thought we were being confronted by Hawk Moth of all humans.” The kwami’s voice had the usual whine to it until he shifted his attention back to Adrien and the cause of the boy’s genuine alarm sunk in.

Ears lowering sympathetically, he grunted, “Tough luck, kid.”

“Hope not. Maybe I can still get in undetected…” Adrien tried to keep his voice sounding positive but he couldn’t fool his kwami.

It was cold outside and the shivering boy decided it would be best to just deal with the problem as soon as possible. Before he'd be too numb to think properly.

He headed up the steps to the back door. The lights inside were switched off and he couldn’t decide if that was a good sign or not. He was just praying silently that by some miracle the door was unlocked and he wouldn’t need to go ring the front door which was always locked even when it wasn’t the middle of the night.

But even if it was unlocked and everything went smoothly, he would be lying to himself if he thought he could get away with sneaking out. Someone had closed the window in his room which meant they had noticed he wasn’t there.

Had his father freaked out? Were they looking for him? Had the police been involved?

He stilled in front of the door, subconsciously worrying his lower lip.

Plagg had moved to his shirt’s collar where Adrien could feel his warm body against his collarbone.

“If you get caught, I’ll have your back. In the literal sense.”

Adrien chuckled.

“And I’ll share my comfort food with you. Camembert.”

“Oh no, please, you don’t have to do that.”

Plagg perked up. “Well, if you insist.”

Adrien smiled down at him, appreciating the small distraction.

He pushed down on the door handle and his body almost toppled over his unresponsive feet when the door moved under his weight. Honestly, despite hoping, he hadn’t been expecting to get even this far.

The back door opened to the unlit black and white dining room. The air was still and silent as Adrien carefully silently closed the door behind him. He noted the room was unusually warm. Normally his father kept the heating in the mansion lower than this aside from in their bedrooms and his office.

He moved across the room on the balls of his feet, glancing down the long empty dining table, and scurried to the door to the hall. He pressed himself to the frame to slowly open it and peek through when a pale orange glow on the polish of the door caught his attention. His eyes stared at it for a moment.

It was a muted reflection.

Curiously he turned his head around and his body froze almost immediately. 

The fireplace across from him was weakly glowing with dying embers. But his gaze was trapped on one of the armchairs on the left where, reclined, was his father.

They stared at each other through the darkness—Adrien now wide-eyed and silently panicking; Gabriel with his usual stern mask.

“Adrien.”

Adrien had expected the steely edge to his voice. What he wasn’t expecting was the exhaustion and weariness. He had heard it before. During Father’s important projects and nearing deadlines, financial problems in the company. But never this unequivocal and obvious. Not since more than two years ago… 

His father was staring at him and Adrien wondered if he'd been watching him since he had come through the back door. 

Why did he have to turn around at the reflection, he berated himself miserably. It didn't seem like his father even intended to get his attention if Adrien didn't notice him himself.

He wondered if he was allowed to just leave for his room. He knew he wasn’t. But he still thought about it. He’d be in more trouble later but would his father have stopped him from getting a few minutes of alone time to collect his thoughts?

He felt cornered.

“Father, I- I…”

“Come here.”

Adrien realized he hadn’t moved a muscle since he had spotted Gabriel. He slowly straightened and made to move around the table toward the fireplace. He felt Plagg shift in his shirt and give out a soft reassuring purr that Adrien didn’t hear but he felt it against his back.

What was it going to be now? Grounded? More piano lessons to fill up his free time? Not allowed to hang with friends? Threatened to get pulled out of school?

His eyes stared at the black and white tiles moving beneath his feet until he reached an armchair and he sat in it.

His eyes hesitantly lifted up to meet his father’s.

Up close the man looked as weary as he sounded and that fact was just then catching up with Adrien.

On the small round table beside his father’s armchair he spotted a wine glass with a drop of red at the bottom, and a dark bottle that even in the dark Adrien could make out was half emptied. Gabriel Agreste didn’t drink aside from occasional toasts he couldn’t pass up. 

The boy looked at him questionably. Worried. In the back of his head sickening thoughts that something horrible must have happened started to surface. Because this couldn’t have been because of him sneaking out. Was everything okay with Gabriel’s company? Had something happened to Amelie or Félix? … Had his… Had they finally found his mother’s b-

"Where have you been?"

"I uh…” What little excuse he had started to come up with before was gone now under his father’s strange stare and Adrien’s irrational fears, so he grabbed for a backup he kept with him in case. 

“I was... hanging with my friends from photo shoots."

This excuse wouldn’t get him out of trouble but it would clear any suspicion of what he was actually up to. He didn't really want to ever use it because it was seriously risking his friendships with the few okay models around his age that he talked to but Adrien's head was empty at the moment and he felt this was an emergency. He just wanted to keep his school friends after tonight if he could and this was an easy lie to believe.

So why did Adrien feel like his father knew he wasn’t telling the truth.

Gabriel gave no outward reaction but his gray eyes that looked pitch black in the dark seemed almost depressed. He stood up and stepped to stand over his son, and Adrien prepared for the tongue-lashing. He welcomed it over the eerie silence.

Instead his father took a knee in front of him and grabbed his shoulders, eyes searching across his son's face. 

“Father?”

Gabriel grabbed his chin with his right hand and began turning his head at different angles. It unsettled the boy because he was much more well prepared to handle anger and disappointment. This almost felt like he was being angled by a new photographer who wanted to study which sides were his best.

Wide-eyed and confused he allowed his father to tousle his styled blond hair over his forehead.

The depressed look in Gabriel’s eyes was solidifying the more he stared, and Adrien would be lying if he said he wasn't becoming a little bit uncomfortable.

He was completely lost as to what was going on until a thought crossed his mind. Was he searching for hickeys? A blush crept over his nose. “Um, Father, I wasn’t- I promise I didn’t do anything inappropriate to hurt your brand. It wasn't anything like that.” 

After a silent moment of his father staring off into space and Adrien wondering if he had said something stupid again, he felt Father's hand grabbing him by the right one.

"Did they hurt you?"

"No, of course not!" 

"That's what matters most."

Adrien could feel his father's fingers slowly finding his ring, and beginning to fidget with it slowly. He followed his gaze to stare at it too. 

Gabriel's eyes were focused on the design on the front. "But don't think I'll tolerate this, Adrien."

Adrien knew he was talking about his disobedience and not the ring but he couldn't help but get nervous. Carefully pulling his hand away and into his lap, he hid it under the other one. 

"I know. I'm sorry." 

“We’ll talk about your disobedience tomorrow. Right now I want to be alone.”

Adrien was perplexed by his sudden dismissal, sitting in the armchair and watching his father stand up with his back to him, watching the dying embers.

He was allowed to leave. A few minutes ago he’d be running up the stairs to his room already. But he couldn’t move.

“Father, is everything okay?”

#i am EXTREMELY insecure about my writing but whatever.... #answered #ask #wip game #ml #miraculous ladybug #acrocat au #my art #writing #gabriel's creep factor is through the roof in this lmao #but he just came to the conclusion that his son in chat noir #he needs a drink

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Can we perhaps get some more of Eli and Nine post finding each other? As a treat? How they settle into whatever their future holds? How others take it? Literally anything I’m just so obsessed with them god bless

Eli leans over, his thick, heavy black hair falling briefly over his eyes until he reaches up - pure instinct, not even aware he's doing it - and moves it out of the way. His nose wrinkles, just a little. "What... what is this?"

Nine grins at him, sitting across the small table. Each of them is pressed into a booth, vinyl squeaking whenever they shift their weight, a bit of stuffing poking out of a crack at one end on Nine's side. "What, you've never had a crunchwrap supreme before?"

Eli blinks at him, one eyebrow raising. "I don't even understand what those words mean put together," He says, baffled. "I know what something is when it is supreme, I know what crunchy is, and wraps... but together-"

"It's like... like the bastard child of nachos, a taco, a burrito, and that feeling when you're awake at 3 am and feel kind of disgusting but it's too late to shower."

Eli's mouth closes. "So it's a... kind of taco?"

"Not even a little bit. Come on, try it."

"Master would never have allowed me in a Taco Bell," Eli points out, almost primly. But then he smiles, white teeth against his dark skin, and Nine smiles back, bright and wide.

"Well, that doesn't matter anymore, does it?"

"No," Eli says, thoughtful. "I suppose it doesn't." He slowly runs his fingers over the printed plastic wrapping around the meal Nine chose for him, leaning over to take a sip of the soda - also once never allowed, except for certain artisan creations bought at great cost - and then unwraps it, staring down at what looks like an envelope of folded tortilla. "How... how do I-"

"Just pick it up," Nine says, leaning forwards, arms on the sticky table. "And take a bite. I promise, it'll be amazing."

"If you say so." Eli does as told, and Nine watches his teeth bite down into soft tortilla and find the crunchier tostada inside, the sour cream, nacho cheese, lettuce, and tomato. He holds the bite in his mouth, slowly chews, swallows.

Eyes the food again, now that he can see what's inside it.

"What do you think?" Nine asks, watching Eli's serious face intently, with sincere curiosity. "Do you like it?"

"... I think..." Eli takes a breath. "I think I'm going to regret this later."

He leans in and takes another bite, leaving a hint of sour cream at the corner of his mouth. Nine leans over and runs his fingers over it, then pops it into his own mouth. "You had a thing," He says, when Eli looks at him with surprise.

"Nine..."

"Perfectly innocent," Nine declares. "Keep your mind out of the gutter, young man."

"Young? We're older than everyone in here!"

"Young to me." Nine's smile gentles, a little. "I lost a lot of time with you. We have a lot to make up."

Eli nods, chewing his third bite. Once he's washed it down with more soda, he sighs, a little wistful. "We lost so much time."

"That's okay, we were still each other's."

"Always." Eli is deadly seriously suddenly. "I am always yours first, Nine. They never could separate us. We've been bonded since the first time I begged, for you."

"Yours first," Nine agrees, and lays his hand over one of Eli's. "You're me and I'm you, always. Now keep eating that crunchwrap until you hate it."

#nine: searching for his other half #eli: the other half #pure fluff #bonded pair #box boy bonded pair

[raysofcrosby]

With all of this reveal about Matthew's fractured sternum and how he still played I've been wondering how Caroline would react to it. Would she let him play? Stand her ground and tell him not to? Would she try to get him to sit out? I miss the WLTAY universe so much! I've reread it already since playoffs started. I hope to see more bonus chapters if you're still wanting to write them!

so, for wltay-verse sake– let's pretend that this situation took place later on down the line ((lets say its the era w both ethan is 13 and scarlett is 2 and care tech is prego w payson but they don't know it yet)) so ethan and scar are the only kids and it's the 2028-2029 season, bc obvi the story takes place during the 2023-2024 szn<3333

BUT OHHHH 100% care would not be for him playing!!!!

obvi its important to know that care is v much well aware matt is a grown man and can make his own decisions, but she is also not afraid to voice her opinions as well when it comes to suggesting what he should do about the injury bc yk obviously she knows there’s chances of injuries w hockey, so when he gets injured and has to get checked out, she’s not too worried, but the moment it was discovered just how serious his injury was ((bc HELLO a fractured sternum!!!!!)) she would immediately be on the side of caution and tell him maybe he should sit out.

like when they're back at home and the kids are all in bed and yk he played it cool w ethan and scarlett so it didn't worry them, but when it's just him and care, she's sitting there in bed watching him kind of slowly get into bed and she's all "okay, tell me what they really said" bc she knows obvi he played it safe for the kids.

and he tells her that yk "they said i probably fractured my sternum" and she's all "probably?" bc is sus of how he said it and she knows they took him to the hospital after they saw him after the game ((aka he told ethan he just had to yk do some press stuff so he wouldn't worry)) and yk he finished getting into bed and he's all "okay, so i fractured my sternum." and yk care's all just in shock and concerned obviously and he kinda cuts it off w a "they think it happened when i hit the ice after that hit from kolesar. but i'm fine, i promise–"

and ma'am is all like "fine?! matthew you're walking like you're 70 and in need of a double hip replacement," and she kind of motions at him all "you can barely breathe without looking like you're in pain."

"it's fine, care. they gave me some 800 ibuprofen for tonight, and i should be better in the morning."

OFC this is an answer that ms caroline tkachuk DOES NOT appreciate bc she follows up w a "its a broken bone, matthew. ibuprofen doesnt fix a broken bone. you can't play like this."

to which matt's obviously all up in arms bc "it's the stanley cup finals, care! it's at most three more games of my life. who knows when it'll happen again?"

"it happened before, matthew. five season ago–"

"exactly, care! five seasons! it took me five seasons to get to another stanley cup!"

and yk they're not exactly fighting, but it's not calm either yk?? and care's not trying to parent him or keep him from his dream, but she also knows he's in full on hockey tough guy mode and will do anything without letting something stop him from reaching the stanley cup again yk???

so not wanting to fight anymore, she says "fine, we'll see how you feel in the morning," and they go to sleep.

so obvi it's next morning, matt gets up for morning skate when care's up w scar and he gets back by the time everyone is awake and yk he's still trying to play it cool but its considerably hard for him since he woke up more sore this morning. and when its time to wake him up from post game nap to eat yk, ethan asks if him and scar can go do it ((and since fam is in town, we'll keep it true and say brady was staying over and helped matt out of bed)) but care says "yk what, let's let beebee do it and you guys can help me set up dad's plate"

so brady goes up and care doesn't really hear a lot of movement upstairs, so she tells ethan to watch scarlett and she'll be right back– so she goes upstairs and actively sees brady trying to help matt stand up out of their bed and ma'am immediately is like "absolutely not, you're not playing tonight"

and matt's all "care, i was just laying down too long" ((while he's yk, still pushing through trying to breathe normally))

"that's bullshit and you know it matthew. look me in my face and tell me that brady didn't have to help you sit up in bed, that it doesn't hurt you to breathe or that you can stand yourself up right now. if you can do that and wholeheartedly believe it's the truth, then i'll drop it."

and yk mans already knows she's going to see through him, but he still tries to play it tough and yk kinda moves brady aside and prepares to push himself out of bed. he does it but obvi it's super shaky at first and brady and caroline are kinda standing closeby in case he falls and he stands himself up but is kinda out of breath and hurting when he's standing there and he's all "i'm telling them im playing tonight, care. i can't let this opportunity pass me up, who knows how many good years i have left." ((cue the male dramatics lmfao))

in true caroline fashion, ma'am is not thrilled and is all "i don't think you understand how serious this injury is matthew. you play tonight and take another bad hit or bad fall and you could further hurt yourself matthew and your career could be over. are you ready to even think about that possibility at 31???"

and ofc matthew's all "i'll be fine, care. i've been playing this game a long time, i can still play tough and be safe."

SO PULLING THE MOM CARD, CARE'S ALL "would you let ethan do it??"

"that's not fair."

"of course its fair. if ethan had the very same injury as you and you, as the adult knew the repercussions of what would happen if he played, would you let him play?"

POOR BRADY IS JUST STANDING THERE LIKE 👁👄👁 "maybe we should just let him go see the trainers–"

and care's all "shut it brady" and turns to matthew like "well, would you? would you let your son risk his life and career for three games?"

so they just kind of stand there staring at each other and matt's finally like "no," and before care can say anything he adds on a "but i'm not ethan."

to which care adds a "but you are to your mom and dad"

ANYWHO ITS LIKE ARUING W A BRICK WALL AND CARE KNOWS THAT ITS NOT GETTING ANYWHERE SO SHE JUST HUFFS AND IS ALL LIKE "fine, if you want to play tonight matthew, then do it."

and yk they go on w the day and matthew plays game four ((much to caroline's dismay)) and ofc she and the kids go to the game and yk care is v much not thrilled about him playing and everytime hes on the ice she's panicked and at the end of the night when they're home and getting ready for bed there might be a slight silence between them bc obvi she's pissed but yk they do the kids nighttime routine and then go to their room

but she helps him shower ((bc showering after the game was too painful)) and get ready for bed and she's helping him into bed and once he's comfy and she makes sure hes got everything he needs, she gets on her side and even her just getting into the bed kind of moves him and obvi that hurts and so she's just worried the whole time and when they're settling down into bed matt kind of moves his arm out to her so he can hold her hand and she does

and he's all "you were right, i shouldn't have played tonight. some of the guys had to help me get my gear on and i should've known that was a sign for me not to play...but care, it's–"

"i know...it's the stanley cup finals. and im sorry if it seemed like i was dismissing you, but matthew...this is a v scary and serious injury." and she kinda hears him yk trying not to breathe too hard or anything bc yk pain and she's like "hurt?"

"like hell," and she can see hes super emotional bc they both kind of know that that was most likely his last game of the season bc of how much pain hes in and so shes just being super comforting w him and soft night yk

#anon #answered #wltay

[dumplingsjinson]

sooooo, i know i said i wasn't going to post anything personal, at least in regards to my dating life, on here but lo and behold! i'm a liar, but the person who found out about this account might never go onto my blog again (if you're here for some reason then hi? idk why you'd come back here but okay. i hope you're okay. and if you're not, i hope you will be okay. and also, this is NOT about the long distant guy that maybe one or two of you are familiar with). so, here goes: we broke off whatever it was that was going on. i don't like them back that way, and i don't see myself liking them back that way in the foreseeable future.

so we broke it off on good terms.

we're not going to talk anymore, and it definitely will take time getting used to since we did text back and forth everyday for the past two months, up until today. it will take time to get used to not seeing their name on my phone constantly, or waking up to their messages, but it'll eventually go back to how it used to be, when we never spoke before.

i admittedly do feel a little empty as of right now, which is a me issue entirely. maybe i'm dealing with the sadness of losing a connection i've made with someone? maybe i don't deserve to feel this sadness. i don't know. there was definitely a bit of a connection there, though ephemeral, even if it wasn't a romantic one. i think (i know) i'll be okay, and i really, really hope they'll be okay, too (because rejection doesn't feel good. it's never an easy pill to swallow, knowing you're not the one for that someone. it doesn't feel good to reject someone, either).

i think it'll be good for the both of us in the long run.

i'm still processing this whole thing, but i think it'll be okay soon. :) and i hope they find someone who will like them back, just as much, and if not, more, because they're someone who truly deserves that.

goodbyes aren't easy, and they hurt even when it comes to short-term bonds that were formed. that's all i can say.

(also that whole unmatch thing rant in which i've deleted by now is because i got my feelings hurt for like a day, and then i got over it really quick lmfao. i was talking to some other guy i matched with, and we vibed for a few days, and then he unmatched while we were setting up the date and that hurt translated into frustration and anger and a bruised ego, but i'm okay now, and to whoever said it was a bad break up or something - it wasn't lmao, i was just being a little wuss and had to vent. but i will die on the hill on how you're an asshole if you unmatch without any explanation, especially when you're in the middle of setting up a date. you're just bad at communication and it really, really shows. please work on that if that's what you do to other people, because it's never fun being on the receiving end of being basically ghosted.)

anyway, i'll try to post another prompt list tonight. these babies are pre-written, so my mood right now's not gonna affect them aha.

i will probably post more of my love life (read: online hoe life) again to the one person who bothers reading this shit, simply because nothing's stopping me, and i ALSO am NEVER going to be so dumb to accidentally give too many hints and reveal my tumblr like that to someone ever again lmfaooo. my mask stays ON, bitches!!

(and on an entirely different note that's not so fucking depressing and also very non-serious, i'm going on a date this sunday, and we're going to have oysters lmfao - i might end up calling him oyster dude - but i also don't have much expectations lmfao. they did ask me if we're still on for sunday just earlier today, and i said yes, but i'm prepped for getting unmatched outta no where because some of you men are Cowards. aNYWAY.)

this was a rollercoaster and a very undelightful mess, i'm tired, i have to wake up at 5:30 am tomorrow for work, two of my brackets came fucking loose so i have to go to the ortho on monday to get that fixed, and i lowkey wanna die because of that, goodBYEEE.

#long post #i probably won't delete this but yeah #personal #putting my clown ass on display rn

[morteamore]

I've finally been able to write for self-care again. Hallelujah. I'm feeling inspired and on fire.

Anyway, Yes, Chef!: Second Course is a fic I'm doing for no good reason. It's a 'where are they now' type story canon to The Cooking Chronicles AU and also explores plotlines that fell to the wayside in the original fic because they weren't relevant. It's sort of vignette style, but I'm going to try and make it a coherent narrative.

This is an extremely early draft and just me working some things out for now. If it ever gets finished and posted, which seems unlikely but maybe, it'll probably get drastically changed

=========================================

It was about 13:45 on a Sunday afternoon, and the plaid couch sitting in the center of the cabin’s main living room was fully occupied, as were two of the armchairs and recliners off to the sides. The air was rife with chatter, layered and meandering, and thick smoke, which was weighted by heavy notes of chicory and ash. Woolen drapes blocked soft golden sunlight from glaring against an enormous holo screen. The sound was muted, replaced by the backdrop of sizzling meat cooking on an induction stovetop in the nearby kitchen. The couch frame creaked as Zane Flynt leaned back, his feet, snug in a pair of hiking sandals, coming to rest on top of the coffee table. He blew smoke from his cigar towards the ceiling fan making a slow rotation high above him, ashing into an empty beer can sitting between his legs.

“It’s what I said, innit? Thinking this old dog has reached the end of his tether. I’ll still be on with the lot of you. Just to the lesser extent.”

Sitting in one of the armchairs, Athena had turned away from reading the closed captions on the holo screen to stare Zane down. Her features were drawn and rigid, her gaze unwavering. Zane, who made brief eye contact, looked away and sighed.

“Anywho, wasn’t going to do it till after the holidays,” he added. “Give you all some time to find the next chef with the right amount of bollocks.”

From his place on the other end of the couch, Rhys turned to Zane. The space in the center of the couch was occupied by Wilhelm’s girth, so he had to lean forward to situate the other man in his line of sight.

“What?” Unable to help himself, the latter half of the word came out in a squawk. He cleared his throat. “When were you planning to tell us?”

“I’m telling you now. That night we do final holiday seating before we close for sabbatical, that will be my last huzzah.”

Troy Calypso, who’d been slouched down in one of the recliners, sneakered feet dangling over the edge of the raised footrest, looked up from the portable game device he was thumbing.

“What, you got wanderlust, old man? We should celebrate.”

“I’m not leaving yet, Calypso.”

Troy hummed, his articulated cybernetic making a dismissive gesture. The cybernetic arm was new, upgraded with the salary that had been bolstered with a promotion to line cook. Rhys had hooked him up with a prosthetic specialist and Troy had managed form there. For a man who’d relied on rudimentary prosthetics or nothing entirely most of his life, he’d adapted quickly.

“Good, cause I’m not taking up your mantle.”

“As if ye even could.”

“Guys,” Rhys’ tone dipped sharply, cutting between their banter. “Zane, let’s discuss this in private next time we get a chance.”

“We can talk about it now, since you lot are here and the floor’s quiet.”

“No, we’re here to relax and enjoy a meal as family. I’m not letting that get char-broiled to hell without a fight.”

“Sounding more like Jack everyday, boyo.”

Wilhelm grunted. It was the only sound he made, unclear if it was an agreement or just him growing annoyed by the bickering.

“Well….” Rhys began, his smile tight. “Speaking of, I should go check on what he’s doing to that poor prime rib.”

As Rhys stood up from the couch, Athena asked, “When was the wedding again?”

It took some time for Rhys to answer. He seemed to be assessing if Athena was being serious or not. Then he remembered that she didn’t seem to have any type of sense of humor.

“We haven’t even set a date with Pandora’s justice of the peace yet. It’s on the agenda. Soon as I figure out the new tasting menu and get Jack’s approval for a few things.”

“You should hurry figuring it out then.”

“Trying, chef. You know Jack.”

“Yes. I know him well.”

There was a sharp creak as Troy spilled over the side of the recliner. He came to stand next to the couch, snatching Zane’s cigar away in nimble robotic fingers.

“Me and Flynt, we’re getting hitched, too.”

The cigar sizzled as he drew on it, the lit end blazing vibrant for a few elongated seconds. He held in the smoke, straddled Zane’s lap and threw himself at the man. As he met Zane’s lips, the pushed him off, sputtering.

“The feck we are, boyo.”

But Troy opened his mouth then, and Zane’s protest died on his tongue. Instead, he succumbed to that sweet smoke between them, inhaling. The two fumbled into another kiss that was too forceful and noisy to be the simple act of shotgunning.

Rhys’ jaw worked and Athena scowled.

Shoving Troy’s elbow from his ribcage, Wilhelm said, “Knock it off.”

As if in response, Zane’s arm came around Troy’s waist, fingers slipping beneath the loose waistband of the man’s cargo pants. Troy’s growl was muffled.

“Okay, I’m going to go check on Jack now,” Rhys said, trying not to gape at the pair.

“Got to make a phone call,” Athena deadpanned.

Rolling his eyes, Wilhelm scooted over on the couch to the space Rhys had previously occupied. He found the TV remote and hit the button to unmute it.

“How’re the kids getting along?” Jack didn’t look up from where he was turning rib steaks over on the induction cooktop as Rhys entered the kitchen. “My brother show up yet?”

“Zane and Troy are about to bone on your couch right there out in the open in front of everyone.” Rhys opened the fridge, grabbed two crisp, cold bottles of IPA and held one out in offering. Jack shook his head in declination. “Tim’s a no-show so far.”

“Tell Flynt and Calypso they better clean up their mess when they’re done. Tim’ll show up eventually.”

“You sure? He said he’d be here over an hour ago.”

“I’m sure. Wilhelm’s here.”

Rhys sprung the top from the beer bottle using only his robotic grip and swigged. “Good point.” The label on the drink was considered and set down. He came up behind Jack, planting a soft kiss on to the man’s cheek. “Sorry. I forget you stopped drinking. I shouldn’t be doing it around you.”

“S’kay, Rhysie. You having a drink ain’t going to put me on a bender.”

“Still.”

His arms circling the other man, Rhys pressed himself against Jack’s back and leaned his chin into his shoulder. Over the last few months, while he followed a strict plan of abstinence, Jack had bulked up, parts of him yielding less to prodding now. In the middle, though, he had softened, likely due to his metabolism returning to a natural state. Once, Jack had mentioned offhand that he’d gained something like over fifty pounds in the last two years of not being on the good shit. Rhys was fond of the change.

“Am I interrupting something?” came a new voice. It was identical to Jack’s.

Rhys let go of his fiancée and turned around. Abandoning his steaks for a moment, Jack followed suit, nodding a greeting to his brother.

“I was just about to stuff my boyfriend full of meat,” he told Tim, keeping a straight face. “Feel free to wait in the living room until I’m done.”

#writing #fanfic #borderlands #whoo i'm writing again #the cooking chronicles #chef au #rhack #multi pairings #early draft #yes chef! universe

[definitely-not-samayoi]

The translation is complete, so please have some more saemaji (I'm posting this once again because the first time I got the formation wrong). That's only the next chapter, there are several more incoming! The first part below:

Chapter 1

Majima came home late that day. He looked somewhat terrible: blood from a split eyebrow flooded his face, a purple bruise was forming on his cheekbone, and when Majima smiled broadly at the sight of Saejima, he saw bloodied teeth. Saejima sighed heavily and without further ado pulled out a first aid kit from the cabinet.

“Some bastards from Omi,” Majima explained eagerly, hissing as the antiseptic hit the wound. "What the hell are they even doing here?"

"Whatever they're doing here, yer very lucky yer still alive," Saejima said with a chuckle as he worked on a bruise on Majima's cheekbone. “Musta been some small fry, or you'd be lying in an alley somewhere with a bullet in yer head.”

"I wouldn't!" Majima snapped decisively. “I tried to talk to them in Kansai-ben, but…”

“Ya have Tokyo written on yer forehead,” Saejima snorted, imagining Majima trying to pass in front of Omi as their own. “And ya can torture people with yer kansai-ben. No wonder they figured it out.”

Majima frowned in disgust, but Saejima knew full well that he was listening to his every word. From the very next day, Saejima began to notice that Majima was diligently copying his accent.  At first, it looked ridiculous, and Saejima couldn't help laughing a couple of times, for which he immediately received a sharp elbow punch in the ribs.

Yasuko's surgery was scheduled for a week later, and Saejima was becoming increasingly anxious. He slept poorly and ate poorly, something even Patriarch Sasai himself noticed when Saejima accidentally bumped into him in the corridor of the headquarters.

"Listen, lad," Sasai patted his shoulder paternally. “Yasuko-chan will not be happy at all when she leaves the hospital and sees a weak shadow instead of her older brother. And don't forget that I need you to be able to carry out your duties. What kind of yakuza are you if any of the bastards that roam the streets knocking pocket money out of elementary graders can kick your ass?”

"Oyaji," Saejima bowed so sharply and low that Sasai burst out laughing.

"You won't be able to take good care of Yasuko-chan if you don't take care of yourself first. So you better get a grip, Saejima!”

Saejima bowed again, and Sasai, thinking that Saejima had been sufficiently impressed by his speech, left with a final nod to him.

Of course, Sasai was right about everything. . Before Yasuko had been admitted to the hospital through his efforts, Sagejima had not given much thought to their future: there were too many things in the present that required his care. But now that Yasuko's return was only a matter of time, Saejima couldn't find a place for himself. Yasuko has to go to school. She also needs to eat well to recover from her surgery. Saejima himself had to make do with instant noodles; sometimes he'd manage to snatch a box of expired bento at a good discount. Saejima's stomach could probably digest nails, so he didn't worry about himself. But Yasuko…

Majima, of course, was also aware of his condition. During their time together they had learned to read each other as no one else could, to the slightest change in the tone of voice, the tiniest wrinkles between the eyebrows. 

"Hey, kyoudai," Majima stubbed out the butt of his cigarette on the lid of the urn. “You're a pain to look at. I know you're worried about Yasuko-chan, and that's fine, but… Look, you're not alone now, are you? I... I've actually decided to join Tojo, too. I'm gonna help! At first it'll be the little things – you know how it is – but then…”

"Kyoudai," Saejima sighed deeply without looking at him.

“Don’t kyoudai me! I'm talking serious stuff here! And if you start your “I don’t want to owe you” bullshit, I'll kick your ass so hard Yasuko-chan won’t recognize you when she returns! And, besides…”

Before Majima could finish, Saijima grabbed him, squeezing him tightly in his arms. Majima froze, but then relaxed, hugging Saejima back.

#yakuza #saejima taiga #majima goro #saemaji #ficlet #like a dragon #ryu ga gotoku

[softguarnere]

Hey, Dove! I'll take a shot and request a ship, if it's okay hehe

So, I may seem hostile or annoyed at first sight but actually I'm not (just tired lol)

I'm smol but there's a lot of rage in me I can't express so i collect knives/ go to tirs/ punch walls/ lift weights so this keeps me from punching faces instead (and gives me wounded knuckles). I'm a bit of stubborn and it's often pisses people off. I'm a writer and I hope that one day it'll be my future and life's work. I'm protecting and more giving than receiving person. I'll kill, die, or do a war crime for someone I care about. My love languages are gifts and touch. I really like to comfort and praise my frens hehe

Tryna be stoic and non-showing my emotions and most of the time I am. Tho, deep inside I'm screaming wildly. When I need to vent I isolate myself for a while 'cause I don't wanna show my drama queen side

At first I'm cold and don't talk much, but when we're friend I won't shut up about my bullshut for hours

I love tough people with a heart of gold and people with whom I can evolve and educate together, talk for hours about something interesting or philosophical

or just sit in silence and gaze at the stars (or maybe telling some myths about them)

I hope it's not too much hehe, anyway thank you for your time ❤️

Hi love! Of course it's okay to request a ship :) (although this is my first time doing this kind of thing, so bare with me)

I ship you with . . .

George Luz!

It was honestly between him and Joe Toye, but I honestly kind of get Toye vibes from your personality, which is what makes me think that you and Luz would work so well together. You guys would be a dynamic duo, in my humble opinion

Because Luz is such an open book (most of the time), your personalities just work really well together because you keep each other in balance. You're there to remind him when things need to be more serious, and he's there to help other people get to know the real you better

Omg he would be so so supportive of your writing, are you kidding me? He just wants to see you succeed. You need space to finish writing a chapter? That's cool -- he'll have dinner or a hot mug of coffee/tea ready for when he sees you again. You want someone to bounce ideas off of? He's your guy. You want someone in the room with you, not to talk, but just so you don't have to be alone while you work? Well, he'll try his best to be quiet, but no promises

One of his love languages is also touch, so you guys are basically attached at the hip -- always brushing elbows, holding hands, or knocking your knees together under the table. It's very sweet. (Well, except for the time you thought you were playing footsie with him under the table in that bar, and it turned out to be Babe, but that's another story; you got a good laugh out of it, though)

I know I've said this headcanon before in other posts, but I 👏 stand 👏 by 👏 it👏: sometimes George gets a little too in his head, and you just gotta hold him. Since you're good at comforting people, he always knows to come to you when he's feeling down. (And honestly, the praise that you give him afterword is some sort of magic potion, because he bounces back FAST after that)

But at the same time, if you need to isolate yourself, he'll respect that. But he's also there to listen if you need to vent. And when you want to talk about the things that interest you? He could sit for hours listening to you talk, and just having conversations -- however deep, or even silly -- long into the night. And if you want to stay up late and gaze at the stars in the silence of the night? He's there. Maybe not so silently, and maybe not sitting so still, but he will be there for you

He just loves being around you, it's so sweet

Everyone changes after the war, but you guys evolve together. After everything that you see and go through, you still have each other's backs at the end of the day, because you can see through to each other's true selves

Thanks for tasking a risk with being my first request! I hope you enjoyed this 💕🕊️

#band of brothers ships #my writing #hey look! I only used italics once! #it's a Christmas miracle #george luz #tumblr friends #band of brothers headcanon #band of brothers #george luz x reader #band of brothers x reader

[wanderingbards]

Saw your post about fics you'd like to see/write and honestly? Same.

Not a writer tho, which sucks, but I'm interested to see your interpretation of, well, pretty much all of them.

Especially curious about the Will sacrificing himself instead of Ashe (saw that fic too), Deadwood shenanigans, Dakota and Will meeting each other for the first time, and the drawback to superpowers.

Also, I never thought about Gill and Rumi meeting each other before, but that would definitely be something.

1, I'm not much of a writer either - I honestly find it's more of a mindset wherein you eventually just...do it. Idk how to explain, lol.

2. I'll go through the specific ones you req'd and give some base headcanons for each, and if I do end up writing them fully (I'm on vacation atm so it'll be a week or two before I do so) I'll tag you!

William Wisp's sacrifice

So this is kinda similar to the oneshot, but also different because it could completely change the plot of s2.

- William does the thing he did with the wisps on the train to that one dude, ends up dying. Ashe summons Duck, but Duck explains that William is simply gone.

- Meanwhile, William ends up in the spirit world again. This time, the wisps tell him his job above is complete - but he now has a place of power in the spirit world as a planeswalker, and he's kinda gotta work on getting rid of Mallard Conway and cleaning up the spirit world.

- This leaks into the real world, where rogue demons have slipped through the rift William opened in killing Overlord. Dakota still runs off, blaming himself for William's death (also comes with this loss of direction, which we saw hinted at in ep 19). Ashe moves in with Vyncent when his dad is taken to prison, and months pass.

- When Dakota returns, Ashe reveals he's been having some bad dreams lately - involving the spirit world. Le Frog calls, and s2 begins.

- Main twist could be that Ashe can't contact the spirit world maybe? Only through his dreams? Idk I haven't thought that far yet.

The Un-Witness Protection Program

- So I have the whole group named and hc'd out for some Shenanigans. This series of oneshots takes place before William moves to Rockfall, which is before the summer of William's junior year.

- Rose (she/they) and Xander (he/they) are fraternal twins. Both are black, with very curly hair - Rose keeps hers in pigtails, and Xander has a shorter afro thing goin on. They're 2 years older than William.

- Siobahn (any) is taller, long straight black hair, asian. They're the oldest of the group, being a few months older than the twins.

- And finally, Martyn (he/him) is the second youngest - second to William himself. Martyn is a couple months older than William.

- Yes, William is the baby of the group, and also he's trans.

- So anyways, these guys come together when Siobahn's younger brother, Zach, goes missing. They look into his case, and find this beautiful forest area with a cliff, and a scrap of Zach's clothing on a branch right next to the cliff.

- Over the next couple years, these 5 get into some serious chaos in trying to discern the mysteries of Deadwood - origins of spirits, dangerous places, etc.

- Throughout this time, William has an intuition that helps guide the group to the next location - he doesn't realize his 'intuition' is just seeing the wisps.

- Leads up to Spring Break of William's sophomore year. Siobahn and the twins are graduating, so they're all going camping to celebrate and do some farewells.

- The whole time, William is antsy. He keeps getting distracted by something moving in the woods, and the others poke just a bit of fun at him.

- That night, William follows the wisps to the cliff Zach died at. The others tag along, because they refuse to let William go alone, and they're attacked by a blink dog - that dives towards William and takes him right over the edge of the cliff.

- The others find William's body at the base of the cliff, and watch as his previously dead body comes back to life with a blue light.

- William doesn't remember what happened. The others don't know how to explain, so they tell him he fell chasing something.

- There's like, one more oneshot that's a 5+1 of 5 times William acted strange and the 1 time he did something about it. It ends with William leaving Deadwood for Rockfall.

Dakota and William's first meeting

- This'd just be a kinda oneshot where they meet beginning of summer break - they both got their powers over spring break (on the same day at the same time but they don't know that)

- Somethin quick and easy, probably involves Dakota overwhelming William and William ghosting through the floor

- Ends with Dakota saying something about them being a dynamic duo.

The Drawback to Superpowers

- In general, this is my favorite thing to think about. Like, I wrote a thing a while ago about what the Encanto gifts would have as drawbacks, and it's...it's so good.

- Dakota has a canonically heightened metabolism, but I also think he gets really bad muscle cramps/sore muscles. Like, really bad aches to a point where he can't walk. Because he shouldn't be able to. On these days, the others take care of him - they bring him water and food and watch movies in bed with him while he just rests.

- Vyncent gets bad headaches and real bad amnesia moments. I mean, come on, literal superpowered DID. I feel like the Greats would front casually, even if it's not as their full form, and the others learn how to tell the difference between them all and fill Vyncent in on things he missed.

- And William is Literally Dead. Like, cold hands and pale face, sure, but how about random bouts of rigor mortis. His joints and muscles locking up, tic moments happening at stressful times. I also feel like he has really heavy dissociative episodes where everything gets tinted with blue and hours pass in a blink.

~~~~

I could elaborate a Ton on these concepts, but I'm on vacation and am limited to typing on a phone.

Also I feel like the Rumi and Gillion meeting deserves it's own post separate from the pd stuff. So I might write it out later!

Thanks for the ask!!!

#just roll with it #headcanon #jrwi prime defenders #william wisp #dakota cole #vyncent sol #these hcs are just fun #little ficlets #i really enjoy conceptualizing more than actually writing #it's so much easier

[pearl-kite]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged this time by the lovely @devilbunnyking for more WIP, and I'm starting to lose track of what I have and haven't posted because this thing is taking me so long :D

Once again trying to get on paper how a werewolf gets into and then out of a 2-on-1 fight, here have a tiny taste of actual sort-of-fighting

Tense as they are, the shift is quick, and they lunge as she begins to swipe an unlock pattern. She sees the motion and pulls back, but before they can properly reach her something slams into their side, heavy, crunching. Their trajectory skews, but they still hit the woman solidly enough to stagger her. The phone clatters across kitchen tile and out of sight.

They dig in against their momentum and spin, snap at the heavy foot that knocked the wind from their lungs (broken rib?), catch fabric, snap again. This time there’s flesh between fangs, and they try to make their teeth meet.

I actually think I'm sort of close to finishing the first draft up but I think it'll need some serious polishing, and then I have to figure out... what to, like... actually do with it. The last time I posted fanfic was 2013 on ff.net I shit you not.

Mmmm tagging... @starrypawz @impossible-rat-babies @fooltofancy but only if you'd like, and no pressure at all. Heck, if you end up having a WIP in three months tag me for it. Also going to pretend to tag @ejunkiet because for once I want to be doing the tagging, idc if you've already put up a WIP today pretend this is for next week o3o;;;

Fun stuff, scrivener has a writing history to track your word count and I finally started writing in there instead of gdocs:

Awww yiss, 4 whole words on Sunday

#wip wednesday #wip #thank you for the tag <3<3 #and yeah those of you I tagged feel free to ignore this or save it for way later or whatever <3 #writing or art btw I like seeing anything o3o #I have no idea what I'm doing writing a fight #one of these days I'll have a different writing wip though stg #told myself to over-write the fight so I can just edit it down and while that HAS made it a bit easier to wordvomit on the page #it's still slow going #but seriously I might need some help figuring out what to do about actually posting a finished project #2013 I updated a chapter of something on ffnet that I then ghosted because I forgot where I had wanted to go #and apparently ghosting from that was so strong that I just ghosted from all fic for close to a decade #oh this is #redacted asmr #redacted darlin

[project-root]

God...

This place is dustier than my bedroom likely is. Granted, I haven't seen my previous bedroom in almost a year, so that's just kind of a guess.

Greetings, to anybody who sees this post. Whether you are one of the many people that may or may not decide to read my rare posting in multiple servers including my own, and also to the singular person that appears to still follow this blog. Hopefully you and anyone else who might follow this soon will not have had their time wasted.

Read more

AUHAHAHAHAHA I will only know if that actually worked when I check this after posting.

I... Am bit shitty when it comes to showing my content for projects. A lot of it's usually because peopleing is not easy, especially when I've developed a mild distrust in others that I haven't had long enough of a connection to to solidly believe they're a... "person"? It's a little hard to explain, and I don't want to explain it here.

I have a lot of ideas.

I've compiled two, maybe three years worth of notes in my own personal archive server. And throughout most of it, I've spent time coming up with designs, changing those designs in subtle, drastic, or ultimately just keeping the same design but giving it a fun fact that is ultimately meaningless in the long run

But I really don't have a lot as far as writing.

No, I don't mean I haven't written anything for this, in terms of story- just that uh, in all the things I've written, I'm not really satisfied with any of them. Some of them were set before I knew what I was truly trying to do, and currently I struggle as much just to tailor a pleasing beginning, or even work within my own parameters I set up to make my job a little free-er.

But in the long run, the story is something that exists in fragmented pieces in my head, and trying to translate that (including the fact that it's fragmented) onto a document- again, where do I even begin?

Like, I'm basically just stuck in the premise of-

> child has been running around and scavenging through abandoned areas of old towns and shit, killing strange demented wildlife whenever they don't find some conveniently stored food

> child happens to find the remains of a camp, which would become important later in a very roundabout way

> something something they start running away because their past is actively hunting them, only for them to run into something equally as terrifying

And I have the most Vegas of transitioning for the next portion after that, but-

I've yet to find a satisfying way to put that into a longer story, preferably more then 5 pages.

But in the meantime, I've drawn, made notes, asked people who listen for ideas, and I've even attempted to make music! Kind of shitty, crude even. But music!

And I hope to build some kind of full soundtrack, among other things, whether or not the people I've enlisted to help me with this whole thing are there too. Because honestly, I love the contributions people have made, but I also recognize that if there's no one else to rely on, you got to start taking things into your own hands, and uh, ahem, "JUST- DO- IT!!"

Or something like that.

And anybody who has seen this project from start to finish, relevancy to irrelevancy, shitpost to slightly serious shitpost-

Thank you.

You all hold a special place in the detective style mystery board of photos and other assorted things interconnected that is my mind, and in further, my metaphorically pin filled heart.

A lot of this project is for me, but it's also indirectly for a lot of you, whether it's to express the care I have (in some strangely displayed manners), or just to tell a very convoluted, perhaps endless story everyone can enjoy. If you know the truth to it, then you know.

I can't promise it'll be anytime soon, but I'm probably going to keep at this project until the day I physically can't keep it in my mind. Ever. And that implies that I won't be able to keep the memories of others alive too, and I will *always* do that.

People might have come and gone, but the memories will be there,

Forevermore.

See you folks when I remember to post another thing, hopefully this is a reasonable enough "where have I been" type thing.

- Edmund Endless