#taking forever and then some was not my plan

[usuallydyinginside]

TLDR: Francesca Bridgerton is Autistic. Fight me.

Okay so I did not go into Season 3 of Bridgerton expecting to have any feelings about Francesca Bridgerton. We have seen her only in glimpses in the show and I have not read the books, so I knew basically nothing about her before binging the first four episodes.

But guys. GUYS. I will die for this autistic queen.

Okay, so starting with first impressions. We know that on her big day, Francesca went out of her way to avoid her nosy, loud family by having a very early, quiet breakfast by herself and then calming down via playing the piano (clearly a special interest of hers).

In her first balls, we see Francesca light up any time she talks about music (clearly her current or forever special interest) but as soon as men try to take it to a flirting place she IMMEDIATELY shuts down. It's clear that even as she states very matter-of-factly that she plans to marry this season, she also is baffled and uncomfortable any time someone tries to actually, ya know, court her.

At one of her first shindigs, she got attention and then went up to her brother and (while making almost no eye contact) told him (rather than asked him) that she needed a sec.

She then sat by herself in the side of the ballroom.

Later on, she left a ball in search of quiet and solitude to fix her sensory overload, so she went outside this time. (A thing that we know from pervious seasons is a HUGE no-no, particularly unchaperoned. But she was very respectfully near the door so maybe that's fine?) The point is that she cares very much about staying respectable so she can get this marriage thing over with and get people to stop perceiving her, yet she risks some scandal by going outside just so she can be somewhere quiet alone.

Enter: this absolute (also autistic) Prince Charming.

He says hello (so she knows he's not like trying to sneak up on her in the dark like a creep) and then just stands there. 10/10, no notes, best way to flirt I have ever seen in my life.

Seriously just look at this. I'm in love. Never before has there been a greater sign of love at first sight than in this "standing politely five feet apart in total silence in the middle of a ball and enjoying each other's company."

I need to go watch these first four episodes about a hundred more times, but I THINK this might be the first sincere smile we see from Francesca??!? I at least got the impression immediately that this is the first time she's felt genuinely comfortable and happy while not entirely alone this season.

Like, these nerds did not even exchange names. They barely exchanged a word. Yet you can see them falling head over heels in love right there in that moment. I don't even LIKE love at first sight tropes and they have my whole heart. They are the only exception.

Then, of course, you have this second absolutely iconic Scene of Silence where the entire Bridgerton family stares in neurotypical confusion a these two amazing weirdos. The way these two do not know each other but they DO know each other. The way they are both so happy and so comfortable but also still playing the whole society game the way they were told they had to?? I just don't have words right now.

LOOK AT HER SMILE, GUYSSSSSSSS.

Look how happy this tiny, silent moment is making her. How she understands immediately what he's doing and is absolutely delighted to participate too even knowing her entire family is hardcore judging them from not that far away.

And then you get this smug little look from him and it's like you can see his autistic ass thinking, "Yes. I calculated correctly. This was the correct romance option. Gold star to me." (Okay, maybe that's just how my brain works but shhhhh)

Which, of course, brings us to this absolutely hilariously awkward ND attempt at flirting. We start off with some fairly normal "whoops, I'm flustered cause you make me nervous" sort of moments, but notice how little eye contact she makes. How she only looks in his eyes very briefly and it seems like she almost has to remind herself to do so when she's doing the "polite" answers (OR later when she's genuinely interested in a topic).

So as soon as Francesca is like "oh shit, I ruined it. I forgot how to neurotypical. It's over" then she loses patience with the practiced social niceties.

I spent like 30 minutes trying to find a GIF and I should already be asleep so I'm not going to go learn how to make one BUT I needed to look up exactly what happens next cause it's basically the most autistic thing I've ever seen.

WHICH IS that in response to the second awkward silence after Francesca shares all of this, John's response is, "That is helpful. If you'll excuse me."

Then dude bro just WALKS AWAY WITHOUT ANOTHER WORD.

Like it would be awkward anyway but now Francesca thinks she misread a social cue so she's feeling sad, and meanwhile this absolute king is over here on a romantic mission no one asked him to do because he is that set on showing her he's listening and cares.

The man shows up at the ball and as soon as he had a paper we were all screaming "he wrote her a song!!!"

Again, notice the eye contact (or lack thereof). I think with period dramas and women, it's easy to just go "oh she's just shy" or "she's just being demure like she's supposed to" but like NO. This girl does not want to meet anyone's eyes.

Until she does. Because in moments where she's talking about music or enjoying quiet, it's worth it to purposefully meet his eyes and see how he's feeling too. To make sure he can see she's happy.

ANYWAY, it was so much better than him writing a song for her.

SO. MUCH. BETTER.

Because he didn't just give her any ol' music. He sought out the music they'd specifically heard in the street, and he took her exact specifications on what was "wrong" with the music, and he FIXED IT. He then put the whole thing on sheet music and handed her a copy with no further explanation than this.

Our autistic lass was so excited she basically sprinted out of that ball so she could find a piano. (Which, the fact that she does this rather than try to stay and flirt/dance with the man who just gave her this incredible gift ALSO says a lot, just saying. Daphne could never.)

So our girl finds a piano and GUYS. LOOK AT HOW HAPPY SHE IS.

I'm pretty sure this woman would accept a proposal right this second. Maybe make one herself. She is so head over heels in love with this man that it's absurd. We have watched her mask in these first four episodes, but the last two where she's interacting with John are the first times she seems genuinely happy and like the real her is shining through.

Like, does she enjoy her family? Sure. But it's obvious (and she even tells us) that she finds them overwhelming and generally to be A Lot. But these scenes? This gesture?

You can just get how seen she feels. How weird and wild and amazing it is to her that this man can see who she actually is and wants to join her there instead of making her play some part of the perfect Bridgerton who likes to be the center of attention.

(And even here - the EYE CONTACT. She glances at people when she's talking to them, but the way she looks at the sheet music is so much more intense and intimate and personal than anytime she's looking at the average person in the show. She still even in places she's most comfortable, such as sitting at the piano, makes very little eye contact and only at very specific moments.)

Anyway I'm going to sleep now but I'm sure I'll add more thoughts as they come to me. Feel free to add your own case for why Francesca is autistic and/or otherwise neurodivergent. I want to hear allllllll the thoughts.

#francesca bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton spoilers #bridgerton s3 #john stirling #bridgerton netflix #bridgerton season three #Francesca is Autistic #Autism #Autistic

[queenofterrasen418]

FOREVER IS A LONG TIME (Azriel x F!reader)

okay, this one has been sitting in my drafts for a long time. Should I turn it into a oneshot/ series?

Summary: The reader is part of the inner court and knows that Azriel is her mate but can't bring herself to tell him that.

(A/N There's just a LOT of angst or will be if I continue writing it.)

He was looking at her again. The only time he didn’t look at her was to update Rhysand on his last mission. You tried your best not to look at him but somehow your eyes wandered back to him like a moth drawn to fire.

The meeting finished and everyone left except for you and Rhysand. 

“How long do you plan to continue this?” he asked, worry coated his words.

“I don’t know, as long it takes.” your gaze was focused on the golden sunlight that poured from his window

“From what I see it looks like forever.” he placed a hand on her shoulder, “And forever is a long time, Y/N”

“What do you think I can do?” she said finally looking at him. You wished ignoring the feeling long enough would make it disappear.

“He’ll want to know. Tell him, we all saw what happened to me and Feyre.” Rhys was the only person you told about this. He was the older brother you could confide in anytime.

“Feyre wasn’t in love with someone else.” At this point, you were not sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

“Azriel is your mate.”

“And he thinks the cauldron made a mistake with Lucian and Elain. He thinks Elain should be his mate. Not me. He barely looks at me that way Rhys.”

Rhys shook his head and sighed.

“I don’t know why we are having the same conversation for the hundredth time. I told you before and I'll tell you again, I am not going to say anything to Azriel. If I do it’ll ruin everything I already have with him.”

“I know have you at least tried to hint at him?”

“No. And I won’t besides Elain is happy when she is with him and that makes Feyre happy. I can’t do that to her Rhys. She has enough to worry about already.”

Rhys just looked at you as if you were some weird puzzle.

“Both of us know those are just partial reasons. You can’t  bring yourself to tell him but why is my question, why Y/N?”

You let out an exasperated sigh, “Because I am afraid he won’t like me. I am afraid yet another person who I like will tell me that they don’t see me the same way. I am tired of this, Rhys. Unless he realizes I can’t do anything. Maybe the cauldron was indeed mistaken.” 

With that, you just walked out of the room.

So what should I do??

#azriel angst #azriel fanfic #azriel x you #azriel x reader #acotar #rhysand #azriel #azriel/reader #azriel shadowsinger

[dazzlingjaeyun]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠

best friend!jay x fem!reader

genre: best friends to lovers, some angst / some fluff

warnings: cussing, slightly jealous!jay

word count: ~3,5k

a/n: ahh i really enjoyed writing this one!! but the ending feels a bit rushed so i apologize for that

↝ dazzlingjaeyun's bookshelf

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

you and jay had practically known each other since diapers, being best friends ever since you could remember. although over the years you had been through different friend groups, the two of you always stayed inseparable. in the end, it was always you. you and jay.

since you spent almost every day together, also now you were sitting on his bed across from him, your legs casually resting on top of his thighs while you had your laptop on your lap, typing away a report you had to finish. jay, on the other hand, was silently scrolling through every possible social media site to fight his boredom while waiting for you to be done. his other hand rested on your knee, softly tapping his index and middle fingers on your joggers alternately, as if tapping them along to a beat. being so used to his skinship, his soft touch didn't bother you.

after some more moments in silence with only the sounds of you tapping on your keyboard, you could hear jay sigh and saw him put down his phone from the corner of your eye. "how long are you going to work on this, it's been two hours", he whined.

you looked up from your laptop only to see your best friend pout at you, which made your lips curl up into a smile. "okay, big baby, i'm almost done and we'll watch your annoying movie after", you replied in a teasing tone. jay squinted his eyes, pretending to be annoyed, to which you chuckled before focusing back on your laptop screen.

"i think i should show her the movie too", jay interrupted again. "hm, who her?", you asked, rather inattentively.

jay clicked his tongue. "the girl i like, dumbass"

rolling your eyes, you finally looked up from your laptop again. the past weeks, he had not gone a day without mentioning 'the girl he likes' at least once. although you knew practically everything about him - and his plans with his crush - you still had no idea who she was nor what she looked like and whenever you asked, your friend would turn down your question, claiming you'd find out soon enough.

"yeah, you should watch this movie with her. i don't want to watch it for the 10th time", you replied sarcastically , earning another playfully annoyed look from jay.

"i'm serious, jay. stop saying what you want to do and then never make a move. she might not wait forever", you added, your voice more genuine than before. jay just bit down on his lower lip and nodded, looking to the side to avoid your eyes.

suddenly, you felt bad for what you had said. you didn't want to discourage him. it was quite the opposite; you wanted him to finally take his chance with whoever he had liked for a while now. you closed your laptop, not caring about the unfinished report at that very moment, grabbed a pillow from behind your back and threw it in jay's direction, careful to hit but not hurt him.

"you should really ask her to watch it with you, instead of me. she's not going to believe you're into her if you're stuck on my ass the entire time anyways", you said jokingly, trying to lighten up his mood again and in fact earning a soft giggle from him. he grabbed your laptop off your legs and instead pulled you towards him, your head hitting his chest softly.

"whatever you say", he said, grabbing the remote and turning on the tv while you got comfortable, resting your head on his chest and putting one arm around his torso. "now, it's movie time", he said, indicating you should stop speaking now, before starting the movie he had waited to watch with you and pulling your body just a tiny little bit closer to his. and words could not describe how comfortable you felt in that very moment. how completely comfortable and safe.

you didn't even notice that you had fallen asleep on jay's chest. it was not until he moved very slowly and carefully, trying the best he could to not wake you up. you slowly opened your sleepy eyes and lifted your head a little.

jay sighed at the realization. "i'm sorry... i was really trying to not wake you", he almost whispered, his voice soft and quiet. his words so carefully spoken, as if he could break you in half if he said them any louder.

only then you realized his fingers tangled in your hair - clearly the aftermath of having played with them while watching the movie.

"it's your fault i fell asleep in the first place. i always do when you play with my stupid hair", you managed to crack a joke, despite your tiredness.

jay scoffed jokingly. "stupid hair?", he asked as if you had insulted him. "you know they're soft and it's...", he stopped as if searching for the right word "...it's healing to play with them."

healing? the fact that he spoke of something as simple as playing with your hair as healing set something off. a weird, unfamiliar feeling in your stomach - one that you couldn't really classify.

"mh..." that was all you could reply, feeling overwhelmed and confused at the sudden change of feelings you experienced.

"you know... you'd make a good boyfriend. i'm sure the girl you like would enjoy having you caress her hair until she falls asleep", you just blurted out, mind still foggy by the state you were in.

you could feel jay's chest stop moving for a split second, indicating that he was holding his breath, before you heard him gulp.

"hm, probably"

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

"i'm so going to win this time", you said, self-confident, as you started the last and final round of the race, eyes fixated on the screen and hands wrapped tightly around the controller.

you were so caught up in the game that you got startled by the loud ringtone covering the sounds of the game. you tried to catch a glimpse of your phone to see who was calling, going back and forth from your phone to the tv screen - the inattentiveness causing your game character to hit an obstacle, much to the joy of your competitor. as you lost the game, you just dropped the controller in your lap and instead grabbed your phone to finally answer the video call.

"you better have a good reason to call me now, jay! i lost mario kart because of you!", you snapped, before your best friend could even greet you.

mario kart? he thought. that was your tradition. yours and jay's. playing mario kart on a friday evening. but he was clearly not with you right now. and for some reason, it bugged him. a lot. why would you carry on your tradition with someone else? but did he even have the right to claim a shared activity as solely yours and his? did he have the right to get hurt or even angry? he wasn't sure, so he tried to shrug it off.

he forced himself to let out a faked laugh. "who did you lose to?", he asked, trying to make it seem as if it wasn't a big deal for him. trying to not seem too curious about who you had replaced him with.

you moved your phone to the side, revealing your competitor, before moving it back for the camera to capture you only.

"huh? jake?", jay asked, visibly confused.

"i'll get some water and let the two of you talk", the boy in question chimed in as he stood up from the bed, giving you a short smile.

you looked up at him a little too long for jay's liking, before moving your eyes back to the phone screen. "so, why were you calling anyways?", you asked as jake walked out of your room.

"him, seriously? are you stupid or do you simply not care that he only wants to-"

"jay. i asked a question", you cut him off rather sternly.

he let out a long sigh at the tone of your voice, at the way your words left no room for further discussion. and if he thought about it, he also didn't have the right to tell you who to hang out with, after all.

"did you hear about this new café opening next week?", he finally carried on with the original reason why he called you. you nodded in response, so jay continued "they'll have like a small opening event, i wanted to ask you if you want to go with me?"

"um... well, jake asked me already", you replied, your voice now calmer and quieter, feeling almost guilty for turning jay down.

"what did you say?", he asked hurriedly, as if in a rush to find out about your answer. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. "i said yes. i thought-... you can ask the girl you like?"

"oh... um...", he started stuttering, bringing his hand up to scratch the back of his head awkwardly, "i did but she already had plans that day"

you just nodded. another unfamiliar feeling bubbling up in your stomach. the fact that he had already asked her before even considering you was somehow... irritating? he had asked her. not you. you were the second choice, after the first was not available. and suddenly, it crashed down on you. worries, fear. suddenly, you felt this irrational, immense fear of losing your best friend. of watching him just slip through your fingers, taking your years of friendship along with him.

"you okay? you're zoning out again", jay pulled you out of the spiral of thoughts. when your eyes focused back on him, you could make out the worried expression on his face.

without thinking about it, you just started babbling out your thoughts. "i'm scared that this will ruin our friendship, jay". his eyes widened and he opened his mouth to object, but again was interrupted by you. "sorry, i-"

you didn't get to finish as this time you were interrupted by the door opening again and jake stepping back into your room, a glass of water in each hand.

"you know what, jay... we'll talk about that another time, yeah? i'll see you, good night", you hurriedly hung up before he could even reply, leaving him on the other end of the line staring at his phone in surprise for a few seconds.

i'm scared that this will ruin our friendship, your words echoed in his head. oh, me too, he thought.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

the day of the event came by and you were just finishing to touch up your make up when you heard your door bell ring; the signal that jake was there and ready to pick you up.

the two of you drove to the café in his car in a comfortable silence, jake's voice softly humming along to the songs on the radio barely audible to you.

even after you had spent an hour or two at the café, trying not only the beverages but also some treats, the two of you still hadn't run out of topics to talk and laugh about.

you were so caught up in the conversation with jake that it took you some minutes to make out the tall figure standing in front of the table you two shared. only when you looked up finally, you saw your best friend standing there, practically piercing holes through your body with his eyes.

thanks to the video call a couple of days before, jay knew exactly where you'd be on that day. and with who. and for some reason, he felt the strong urge to check on you. an urge he couldn't fight, so he gave in and made his way to the same place. he just had to make sure you were okay after all, right? that's what a best friend would do if their best friend went out with a guy that seemed fishy. right?

but seeing the two of you just chatting with each other, laughing with each other, sitting a little too close to each other... he didn't know if he should feel relieved that your suspicious date was much less of a threat he had thought. or if he in fact should feel even more threatened. because what if you'd end up liking the guy with the golden retriever-like eyes more than your best friend?

it was your scent tickling his nose that brought him back to reality. only then he realized the hug you had pulled him in, immediately reciprocating the gesture and wrapping his arms around your waist. just a little tighter than he would usually do.

jake, still sitting on the sofa, watched the scene in front of him, biting the inside of his cheek while jay's head was almost buried in the crook of your neck, taking in as much of your scent as possible.

finally, you let go of the way longer than normal hug, a slight shade of pink covering your cheeks. you quickly sat back down again, taking your iced coffee and gulping it down as if it could cool your face and stop the heat from rushing to your cheeks. why were you blushing anyway?

"hi jake", jay finally spoke up, looking down to said boy, who just nodded his head in return. "mind if i join you guys?"

"actually, yeah. i mind.", jake opposed.

jay was quick to reply, before you could even open your mouth "well good thing i only care about my best friend's opinion", emphasizing the possesive pronoun as if you were solely his property, not dared to even be looked at by anyone else.

"geez, fine. i was gonna head home anyways", jake said while standing up, "have a good time together then". and before you could hold him back, hell, before you could even say something, jake was already out the door.

your eyes followed him until he was out of sight and then went back to look at jay. although he hadn't intended for this to happen, he couldn't say he wasn't satisfied with the outcome nonetheless. until...

"what the fuck, jay?!"

if you weren't in public, you would have probably screamed at him. jay's eyes widened at your reaction. in all the years you had known each other, you had barely ever raised your voice at him in a serious manner. but he could tell that you were very serious right now.

"i'm... i'm sorry, i didn't mean to- he's just not good for you and-", he started stuttering out, before you cut him off.

"did you see him acting anyhow weird towards me? no. cause the only one who's acting weird is you, jay!"

he gulped. "but i'm your-"

"my what?", you interrupted again. "my best friend? right. not my parents, not my boyfriend. you're no one to tell me who to go out with!", you snapped.

"just because you don't have the balls to ask the stupid 'girl you like' out, you have to ruin my day as well?" you finally stood up and grabbed your bag. "for fucks sake, jay, get yourself together." you gave him one last glare, before storming off the café as well, making sure to hit his upper arm with your shoulder as you passed him. leaving him with a shocked face and a mind filled with so many thoughts, yet so empty, not able to say a word.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

days passed and you did not speak to neither jake nor jay. whereas the latter had tried to contact you several times, jake had not reached out to you as much. you weren't happy about that but you weren't exactly hurt or upset either.

when it came to jay, a part of you was still mad at him, while another part of you wasn't. one minute you'd want to talk to him, and the next you'd damn yourself for that thought. safe to say your feelings and thoughts were just a rollercoaster at this point, and you were nowhere near sorting them out. the only constant: confusion.

the sudden ring of your door bell pulled you out of another never ending thought process. you stood up from your bed and made your way to the door, opening it without peeking through the small hole before. instant regret hit you as you saw who was standing right in front of you.

"jay?"

"hey... can i come in?"

hesitantly, you stepped aside, not able to reject your best friend, no matter how much you wanted to tell him to go home. after all, you had your reasons for not picking up the phone, not answering the texts. you didn't want to talk to him. not as long as you had no idea about what to think - what to feel.

jay entered, a big bag on his back and just naturally walked past you and to the living room as if you had invited him to do so. you followed him with quick steps.

"i never said to go-"

you gave up as you saw him getting comfortable on the sofa already. he opened his bag, pulled out his guitar and finally looked at you. then he patted on the sofa, signaling you to sit down next to him.

"i want to show you something"

you were, yet again, confused, but curiosity got the best of you and you decided to take a seat next to him.

"i wrote this myself", he explained further and although you were expecting exactly what he'd say next, it still felt like a punch in the gut. "um... for the girl i like"

without thinking about it, you stood up again, ready to tell him to just leave, when he grabbed your hand and pulled you down again.

"i just want to hear your opinion on it", jay said in a soft voice.

"fine."

and so he began letting his fingers slide over the strings elegantly, playing the chords so perfectly, while making everything look so effortless at the same time. his voice was soft, yet carried so much power. and in an instant, nothing else mattered. not what happened at the café, not his bold act of just walking in now, not your anger.

just jay's voice and the sounds of his guitar. so heavenly. and so not for you.

suddenly, your confusion sweeped away and tears started filling your eyes when the realization hit you. and it hit hard.

the realization of why everything about his not so little crush on this girl had bothered you so much. the realization of what you had actually felt when you had woken up on his chest with his hand in your hair a couple of weeks ago. and that you were not only scared of the friendship changing when he asked her out first. even the realization of why you were blushing after he had hugged you tightly in the café.

but mostly, the realization that you wanted nothing more than to be her.

jay's voice fell silent abruptly. he almost tossed away the guitar and instead brought both of his hands to your cheeks, cupping your face. his thumbs gently stroked your cheeks, sending goosebumps down your spine and although your vision was blurry, you could see his worried eyes fixated on yours.

"why are you crying?" jay asked carefully, as if he barely dared to break the silence.

you tried shaking your head but jay's hands on both sides of your face held you more tightly, almost like he was scared of losing you forever if he let go now.

"i'm sure she'll like it", you whispered, worried that if you spoke up, your voice would break.

jay inhaled deeply, his breath audibly shaking. "does she?"

you furrowed your eyebrows. "how would i-"

"do you?"

pang. your heart dropped to your knees. your stomach sank. your mind started racing and your heartbeat doubled its speed likewise.

pang. the next realization.

he had shown you the movie he wanted to show her.

he had asked you to join him to the event, but you had plans already.

he had shown you the song he wrote for the girl he likes.

for you.

all of those moments were about you, all along.

suddenly, the reason why he had never shown you a picture of her seemed so obvious.

the facts that he had never made a move and that he had reacted this way towards jake suddenly had reasons; fear of ruining the friendship and straight up jealousy.

as if to confirm your mind that was running laps around everything that had happened between you and your best friend the past weeks, you heard jay's soft words "it's you. it's always been you."

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

thank you so much for reading up until here. it means the entire world to me and i hope you guys enjoyed it. please do not copy. ❤︎︎

feel free to leave any feedback & interact!

- dazzlingjaeyun

#enhypen #enhypen au #park jongseong #enhypen jay #jay au #jay x reader #enhypen x reader #enha x reader

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐌𝐚𝐲: 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐤 (𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓)

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: Happy late, late Mother’s Day to all the wonderful mothers out there! Have some time to yourself. :)

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.

TW // SMUT/NSFW, Dubcon, Cervix, Yandere Themes, Goggle Translation.

𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗:

Маленький мир - Little World (Russian)

Pushing off a rock, I hurriedly made my way through the rocky coral. Desperate to leave the red waters of this place. Having been here for far too long for my tastes despite that creatures… adamant argument.

He would block any attempt I would make out of his nest, lowly rumbling at me; scolding me for even to attempting to leave before he would usher me back to his nest. His clawed hands gently but firmly leading me back. His eyes never truly moving away from my form that settles back down in his cave.

It confused me at first. Why would he want to keep me in the grounds of his nest? Were their other predators out there? If there was, I’m sure Spartak eats them for breakfast and I’m sure that he does because I have never seen a creature so… muscular like him; strong and huge even. So I let him lead me back to his nest, getting bored when he leaves to do… whatever he does in the sea. Getting fed up and tired of being stuck in the same place over and over again. What was the reason I was in here anyway?

I honestly don’t remember. I’ve have been here for who knows how long? I’ve been very patient with him as well. Not wanting to… anger such a creature like him with bad manners, but I have a deep feeling that’s what he wants. Not to anger him, but to stay with him. It was obvious on what he was doing. I was no idiot to not notice the early stages of entrapment.

Perhaps, if I attempted to communicate with him he would… change his ways of his acts? It was hopeful thinking with his bulky form looming everywhere every time I glanced at him, but the more I stay put in his nest, the more I get eager to leave when he leaves. The more I just want to claw out from underneath his gaze, his hold. It eventually lead me to spill my thoughts out to him right on a silver platter. Too much built up frustration and emotions settling harshly on my shoulders.

Yet, he has still have yet to coo, growl, snarl, rumble at me through out my frustrations towards him and his confiscating ways. His golden eyes never leaving my own when he rises from the water pool; up and over me. His hand carefully settling on my cheek, it had me fumble my words for a moment.

Perhaps, he did not realize what he was doing was wrong to a base line human? Maybe it was in his culture to have a female hang back and care for the nest while he goes out? Oh, but he should know the deference from his female species and my species, it had to be obvious!

“Маленький мир, if I had known you needed more care, I would have provided you more.” He had spoke after my rant to him. His clawed thumb moving up and down against my cheek. Something I haven’t noticed he was doing until after his words.

“This- this is not just about care Spartak! This is about my freedom!” I argued; whined, placing my hand over his that rested on my cheek. His eyes briefly flicking over to the small action. “I want to explore the waters over your territory. I want to be able to swim with you near the surface of the water. I want to touch the warm sands of the beach. I want to go back to the land.”

His thumb stops running across my cheek then. His golden eyes filling with thoughts; narrowing down at me. I was afraid then I have admitted something I shouldn’t have, but it needed to be said. I wasn’t going to be stuck in his cave forever. It was never the plan to.

“Please, Spartak. I am only human.” I beg up to him. Fighting the urge to look away from his own eyes that give nothing away of what he was thinking. I have spilled now, there is no take backs on what I have said to him.

“…Fine, but some… accommodations will be in set in place, Маленький мир.” He huffed after a while of his eerie silence. His body leaning down to my level. His breath tickling my skin. “I hope we can agree to the terms?”

“If reasonable, yes.” I respond quickly, sudden hope rising in my chest. Not completely aware of his praying eyes and his tongue brushing this teeth.

“Разумно... да.(Reasonable... yes.)” He rumbles, siting still for a moment before he shoots forward, taking me by surprise. My heart jumping at his unexpected suddenness as he lips press up against mine. His teeth nicking at my bottom lip as I gasp. Getting a mouth full of tongue from him.

Putting my hands on his jaw for the support. I groan when his tongue brushes up against his nick on my lip, giving it a little sting. His tongue wrapping around my own before he pulls away, a huff escaping me when he does so. His tongue licking his lips with a slight grin on his face.

“Ты связан со мной.(You're connected to me.)” He rumbles out in a different language I have yet to understand myself. My own tounge licking out my own, wounded lips as he leans forwards again, quietly purring next to my ear. “Нет выхода, маленький мир.(There's no way out, little world.)”

I shake my head, pushing off from another rock. Now was not the time to think about the past, I had a sea creature to evade. I possibly had, maybe a few hours before he notices that I’m gone from his nest. Having left from it right before one of his nightly hunts I have patterned him down on.

“Маленький мир!” I felt the waters and rocks rumble around me, my hands gripping the side of the rock as I breathed more air from my small rebreather more than necessary.

Maybe I had less time than I had thought?

“Я думал, у нас есть соглашение?(I thought we had an agreement?)” I could hear him through the water. His tone very… undeterred, very calm. “Что случилось с нашим соглашением?(What happened to our agreement?)”

“Я сделал что-то не так?(Did I do something wrong?)” I can hear the questioning tone in the language, bubbles coming out of the rebreather as I hurried to at least find a hiding spot from him.“Я тебя обидел?(Have I offended you?)”

“Маленький мир, come out. I know you are there.” It sounded like he had whined, a high pitched ring going through the waters before all seemed quiet again. The swiftness of fish swimming through the water not creating a current. The corals not moving a muscle. Even the water seemed still in this darkened area.

It was too still.

My anxiety to get caught suddenly spikes, my hands desperately working up at the rock above me. Having found a falling cave entrance here just a moment prior to the silence, the stillness. Bubbles taking up my view as my neck and back tingles of being watched. My gut flipping in my stomach.

I gasp when sudden weight is pressed against my back, pinning me to the rocky wall in front of me. Bubbles continuously obstructing my vision as I could feel a hand rank up from the bottom to my neck and through my hair. A rumble pressing up against my back. “Нашел тебя, мой маленький мир.(I found you, my little world.)”

Both of his hand keep me pinned in place from head and waist. His chest pressing up against my back. Rumbling all sorts of vibrations through my body. “Возвращайся в мое гнездо.(Come back to my nest.)”

“Не заставляй меня умолять.(Don't make me beg.)” He grumbled, and It’s like I could hear him in my mind, making me feel all lightheaded that I had thought I was losing my oxygen, and out of panic. I’ve managed to grab ahold of a rock above me, dislodging the cave entrance and slashed it back at Spartak behind me.

His hand claws at my back, tearing at my suit as he rears back in surprise. A hiss coming out of him while I made haste to crawl through the opening of the cave, desperate for multiple things. Desperate to leave the water.

“Маленький мир!” He hisses behind me, my body wiggling through the opening and into the cave with a lucky air pocket inside of it. My body breaching the surface as I scramble for any type of land to take a rest on. My body exhausted from all that panic I have felt in that split moment.

I whine when I swim some more and touch the risen, sandy surface of the cave. That I could stand up on another surface than Spartaks nest. My knees failing me as I splash back down into the thin surface of the water, simply resting there for some sort of comfort; relief. My hand taking off my rebreather from my mouth and tossing it somewhere else in the air pocket.

“Твои действия причиняют мне боль, маленький мир.(Your actions hurt me, little world.)” The creature speaks out loud. The sound of water moving behind me bringing a shiver down my spine. “Тем не менее, я их не понимаю.(However, I don't understand them.)”

“Are you… trying courting me? Showing me your Сила?(Strength?)” He asks, his shadow engulfing my body. “Showing me your confidence and bravery?”

His lips press up against my back, starting at my lower back, just above my cheeks. His hands resting on my cheeks, squeezing them together and thumbing them as his lips slowly trace up my back until he gets to my shoulder blade. His cold, slimy tongue lapping up my wound that he created by his own hands, a low rumbling hum coming out of him. “Такое хрупкое маленькое существо.(Such a fragile little creature.)”

I hiss at him through my teeth, my hands forming into fists. Too exhausted to actually say anything much to this sea monster as my wound stings at his… mouthy actions. My body laying pinned across the sands in this cave as he purrs and a coos at me. His hands sliding gently from my cheeks of my diving suit and down my hip dips. His face nuzzling into the back of my neck “Такой прекрасный маленький мир, ты есть.(Such a beautiful little world, you are.)”

“Всегда полон маленьких секретов.(Always full of little secrets.)” He purrs, his breath fanning against my shoulder. His clawed hand carefully tearing any last piece of suit away from me. Leaving me tired and bare underneath him.

“Spartak.” I whisper his name into the layer of water underneath me, unsure for the reason. Maybe I needed to have something else ground me as well? Maybe I felt like I needed to apologize to him? Maybe… I just said it for it to mean a lot more than it does?

I gasp as this cold slick slides between my folds. Slowly going up and down between them, teasing me. Coating my folds with its slick. A spark of arousal shooting from my stomach to my core.

“Я начну этот процесс.(I'll start this process.)” Spartak hums, rocking his hips slowly. His hand squishing my cheeks together then letting the go and watching them bounce. “Чтобы обеспечить нашу связь.(To ensure our connection.)”

His hands suddenly grip at my thighs and pull me down on him. His cock that was teasing my folds slipping straight through. Brushing up against every single nerve as he sheathed himself to my core. A deep rumble vibrating through his chest as I whine out at the unfamiliar feeling of his cock.

It felt… different, almost silky like. Not so… rough, dry, wet? I couldn’t tell if I should be gripping the sands or not, it was so different than what I have expected this to feel like. Oh, but the girth of him was undeniably pleasurable. How his cock did not leave space inside of my pulsing walls untouched.

He thrusts once and that has me griping at my palms. A barely restrained mewl being said into the water as he thrusts again and again. My body rocking with his thrusts. His chest brushing up against my back again, pressing down on me, keeping me in place.

“Это то, что тебе было нужно?(Is that what you needed?)” Spartak hummed, nuzzling into the back of my shoulder, giving it a kiss. His chest vibrating against my back. “To have claimed you as mine?”

He groans when my walls tighten around him, pulling him in. His teeth gently nibbling at my shoulder as he shifts his angle, gaining a cry of his name. A shock of pleasure running through my body.

“Khorne, Это то, что тебе было нужно.(That’s what you needed.)” He mumbles into my skin, his that same spot again and again. Slowly picking up pace. “Чтобы я претендовал на тебя.(For me to claim you.)”

“To have you as my mate.” His tongue laps over my wound again, do doubt needing more… care to it with all his strong movements inside of me. Mewls and moans escaping my lips. “Такая нуждая мелочь.(Such a needy little thing.)”

He thrust a bit more harsher now. Seemingly desperate to hear my endless cry’s of his name. To have me bounce forward to he could drag me back down into his cock that infinitely touched all the right places. Making me feel like some jellyfish underneath him. My thought process only being enraptured with him and the pleasure he brought me.

“Spartak!” I cry out louder, my walls tightening around his cock. His teeth latching onto my shoulder, breaking the skin as he moans out, pushing himself to the hilt. The tip of his cock pressing up against my cervix, pushing his tip through it as his cock twitches inside of me. My mind going numb at the feeling of his hot cum flooding my insides.

Weirdly, with his cock at my cervix never brought any pain to me like it should have. Instead it brought me unforgettable pleasure to shoot all my nerves out, a chocked cry of his name ripping through my mouth. Pleasure filled tears running down my cheeks and mixing with the water below me. I couldn’t even think except how his cock filled me up to the brim, leaking around his cock and dripping down to the waters below.

Spartak feels how his Маленький мир goes limp underneath him, submitting to him. His teeth still latched onto her shoulder as he purrs at her submission. His hips rocking into her walls that gone slick with his seed. Yet, she still pulls at him and his pulsing cock, still feeding her womb with his seed, his mark.

He rocks his hips forward more, a low growl leaving his throat. His Маленький мир whining and shivering underneath him as he pumps more of his mark in her.

He acknowledges the fact he could turn her with his teeth latched into her shoulder like this, but he doesn’t really feel any concern for it. If she doesn’t turn she’ll still be with him either way; land or water. If she turned out to be a creature like him? All the more better to keep her by his side; in the nest with him. To admire and care for his Маленький мир.

“Такой хороший маленький мир.(Such a good little world.)” He groans, his arms locking himself around her smaller body. His mouth coming off her shoulder as he licks at it, savoring her taste between skin and blood before nuzzling into her neck. Inhaling her scent that shifts on him as he purrs into her ear. “You will forever be mine, Маленький мир.”

His маленький мир only whines and mewls up at him when he starts up again. Making sure this his mark took place wherever she try’s to run.

“Мой, мой, мой.(Mine, mine, mine.)”

#Ichor’s Chronicles #warhammer 40k #mermay #mermay 2024 #sea monster #x reader #reader insert #oc: spartak #world eater #tw: smut #tw: dubcon #tw: yandere #tw: entrapment #he was going to rail you in the water while you lose oxygen. #got carried away #for such a angy man he is scarily calm

[morningwitchy]

I am absolutely in love with your latest butterfly drop its so!! Gorgeous!! I'm particularly in love with the dark green design. Also the way you do your flat lays for the photos is so cool!! Could I ask what you use for the bg of them? I want to elevate my photos and really am inspired by how you do them.

Have a wonderful day and good luck with the collection!

thanks so much for the kind words!! 💖

also OKAY here is a vague guide on how i do my flatlays. first the bg is savage brand photo backdrop paper - they have a TON of colors and sizes to choose from!

its nice and sturdy and unless you REALLY abuse it, it lasts a loooong time. for the lights i just use some cheapy ones i got forever ago but ive been meaning to upgrade to some brighter ones.

next i usually like to pick a theme and think about how i want to style my items - i used to use my own wardrobe to pair with my apparel but had to branch out and start buying clothing specifically to use for props haha. then i take the theme (in this case it was fairycore) and try to come up with a bunch of items that matches the theme - but in general you cant go wrong with pretty things like faux flowers, cool looking books/magazines, cute purses or bags, hobby-related items like video games or art supplies. just like go wild and channel your inner magpie hoarding pretty looking items. if you have a good thrift store nearby you can get really cool glasses/metal homegoods that make gorgeous props, not to mention old books and little trinkets. Pinterest is helpful if you have a theme but cant come up with enough items to fit the theme too!

anyway this is a bit more extensive than you asked but i figured maybe others would find the info useful as well Lmao i looooove making themes and planning for photoshoots

[mamirhodessxox]

Too Sweet (Part 2)

Stalker Professor!Cody Rhodes Stalker fem!OC

Desc- Zoe is a 23 year old enrolled into University who is well known across campus for participating in Ballet & even auditioning for one of the most important roles of the year, but she seems to be quite infatuated with her professor without realizing he is 100x more infatuated and obsessed with her, the two grow a bond and soon realize they would do whatever it takes just to be happily together forever.

Contents- Fluff, Angst, Smut in some chapters, Use of Alcohol & Marijuana, Arguments, Soft/hard Dom, Mutual Stalking, Murder, Violence, Gore Details, Kidnapping, inspired of off the show ‘You’ & ‘Black Swan’ fingering, Hand kink, Size kink

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa @kabloswrld @claymoresofinfamy23 @cococodysleevlesshoodie

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

Cody admired Zoe’s determination, he watched her every single move despite her not knowing he knew everything he needed to know about her. Everyday early in the morning around 5 AM she would leave her dorm to get breakfast, clean up after herself, read, get ready for her classes that didn’t involve him. Every night she would practice on her sprained ankle no matter what, depending on when her practice was over she would go to a bar with her friends, after that she went back to her dorms and switch into more relaxing clothes.

She was a coffee girl, she loved her coffee, she always ate scones with her coffee on the way to her lessons, In the afternoon noon she would get some sort of refresher drink, her favorite show was either Gilmore Girls or Pretty Little Liars, often at night her and her roommate would study together and gossip or plan for the weekend, her favorite colors consist of maroon or magenta.

Some nights when she was alone she often read or touch herself to the point of overstimulation, he knows everything she does 24/7, she could never keep a secret from him if she tried.

He needed her.

He knew everything he needed to know. He was obsessed with Zoe. He realized her friend Keith wasn’t a threat to Cody & his chances with Zoe, he was just some high guy who enjoyed having fun & didn’t want a relationship.

Classes between Zoe & Cody were becoming more “intimate”. They shared direct eye contact when he was speaking, he would “mistakenly” place his hand on her thigh when he would check on her assignment.

Today she sat further up front this time but still tried focusing on the material but her own professor was becoming a distraction, once he gave the class time to themselves he leaned against her desk “How’s your ankle?” Nina scowled at his words “It’s doing better, sore but mostly better.” He smiled with closed lips & examined her choice of wardrobe, shorter skirt, a much more revealing top barely giving him anything to imagine, her hair in a ponytail with a bow attached to the hair band, cute.

“Any plans for this weekend?” Zoe smiled shaking her head as she set down her pen and gave him all of her attention “Nope, not for me at least, I have to study and stuff” he hummed listening to her words “Well I’ll let you get back to your work.” The two smiled at each-other before he sat down, moments later Nina walked towards him with a sway in her hips, “Mr Rhodes I don’t understand this assignment.” He sighed as he explained it to her once more while Zoe had a slight glare as a pang of jealousy pinched her heart but felt sudden ease “Maybe if you stopped worrying about spraining other people’s ankle’s you’d pay attention better”

She smiled to herself and looked down at her note book as Nina scoffed walking back to her desk, at the end of the lesson everyone was leaving but Zoe had been behind as she was packing up her bag but Cody stopped her “Whens your ballet show?” Zoe stopped and turned towards him “Why, You wanna go?” He shrugged as he shoved his hands in his pockets before tilting his head “Do you want me to go?” She stood there as she started to feel nervous “Words sweetheart c’mon” he teased her while he stepped closer and closer to her “Do you want me to go?” He had yet again in a more stern tone before she nodded “I-uhm- Yeah! yeah you can go, it’s next Wednesday” he smiled while holding onto her chin “Your so pretty like this you know that? All nervous & shy? It’s adorable.” She smiled softly but her eyes started lowering when both of them kept leaning closer to each other, she let out a short whine the most his lips ghosted over hers

His stare bored into her eyes until he got tired of the silence & looked back at the door of his classroom to make sure it was closed, but he needed it to be locked, he walked off for a split second before locking it completely shut before returning back to Zoe & kissing her in a hurried manner before picking her up & sitting her on the desk she sat at, the more his teeth nibbled against her lip the more his hands ran up her thigh and under her skimpy little skirt until his fingers made contact with her panties, Zoe moaned against his mouth & held onto the back of his neck until his phone started ringing, “damnit.” He hissed giving her one more kiss and a pat on her clothed clit before pulling away & picking up the phone. Zoe got herself together and hopped off of the desk before grabbing her thinks & mouthing too him ‘I’m gonna head out’ he nodded with a grin on his face before kissing her one last time.

She needed him. She needed him. She needed him. She needed him. She needed him. She needed him. She needed him.

Later that night she sat in her dorm staring at her computer as she struggled to write the essay she needed done by tomorrow for Cody’s class, she went over the past reviews but she still couldn’t find the inspiration so, she called him. “Hello?” She paced around the room & cleared her throat “h-hi! Um- listen I don’t know how you write this essay, it’s just- I don’t know what to d-“ “are you alone?” She furrowed her look “yeah..” “for how long?” She picked at the sides of her skirt “all night..my roommates at a sleepover.” Cody then hung up leaving Zoe confused. She sighed rolling her eyes as she sat back down at her desk and stared at the screen yet again for 20 more minutes.

The silence was getting to her until hard knocks pounded against the door which made her get up & open it “Oh! Hey” Cody gave her a gentle smile & welcomed himself in “writers block?” She sighed nodding “Yeah I guess, I just don’t know what to write about for this essay, this is probably the first time you will end up giving me an F” she shut the door behind her & locked it as-well as she watched him sit down in her chair “well, if you want to make your life easier, you can write the essay about the Mind & it’s consciousness, you have enough material, you have the notes, why don’t you do that? And I wouldn’t give you an F, you’ve always turned in good material of work last minute, You have straight A’s & I refuse to break that streak for you Doll” She smiled at the suggestion & nodded in agreement

“I-“ Zoe was about to speak but her phone started ringing making her roll her eyes and huff as she went to go check it, one of her close friends Mae was calling so she decided to answer “Hello?” “ZOOEEE Where the fuck are you? Alice said you might come to the party?” The girl smiled as she sat down on her bed looking over at Cody “yeah she said MIGHT, I wasn’t able to tag along I have an essay to finish by 11:59” Mae groaned out dramatically “You already have straight A’s, take an C+ this time and come get drunk! You deserve a break!” Zoe chuckled shaking her head “I can’t, this one a little bit more important” eventually she had hung up the phone call after talking for a bit more.

Cody grinned & spun around in her chair “You’re quite popular huh?” Zoe raised her eyebrow & shook her head “not popular, I just have a lot of friends” he hummed and looked around at the dorm “It’s pretty cozy in here, perfect place for homework” she smiled at his words and nodded until he stood up and started hovering over her “Do I ever tell you how pretty you are?” Zoe shrugged and started pulling him down towards her “I think you’ve said it once or twice” he chuckled and pressed his lips on hers before pressing her into the tacky mattress, his tongue slipped past her lips while she gripped at his black hair and even traced over the tattoo that laid almost perfectly on his neck, Cody was tugging at her top a bit but eventually she held onto his hands and pulled her face away from his & just laid there “is it okay if we don’t have sex..? I just- I just wanna lay here..with you” he smiled down at her and shuffled next to her and wrapped her in his arms “That is something I can definitely do.” He mumbled before pressing a kiss against the temple of her head before the two drifted off to sleep.

The next day Zoe woke up around noon-ish and Cody was no where to be found, she checked her phone and he did message her..how sweet

Zoe smiled as she read the message and decided to call him while she got dressed for the day, “Well good morning to you doll, sleep well?” She smiled to herself as she set the phone on the desk and on speaker so she could hear him “Like a baby. Thank you for semi sleeping over last night, I enjoyed your company.” He chuckled over the speaker, she could hear the smile on his face by the way he spoke to her “See you at tonight’s football game?” He hummed in agreement “Yup, wear something warm doll, it’s gonna get pretty chilly tonight.” She smiled as she tugged her tights on followed with her skirt “Consider it done. See you later” she hung up before putting a sweater on and some earmuffs until Alice, Keith & Mae walked in “Girl what the fuck are you wearing?” Mae questioned and she stood with a hand on her hip while Zoe looked at her confused “Warm clothes since it’s going to be cold at the ga-“ “you’re not wearing that gilmore girl, where are the booty shorts?” Alice chirped as she immediately booked it to the dresser and pulled out a lowcut shirt that had the university’s name on it followed by light blue denim shorts and a black pushup bra “put those on.” Zoe sighed and grabbed the clothes Alice held out for her before booking it to the bathroom getting changed.

Once she came back in the dorm Mae nodded approvingly “Tits out and everything, do you have pain still?” Zoe nodded curiously pointing at her desk, Mae walked towards it opening one of the drawers and pulled out the pain that matched the school colors before pouring some in her hand, Alice & Keiths “Put some hand prints on her thighs real quick.” Keith glared “I’m not groping her thigh bro” Alice glared “Keith do it and I’ll buy you a pack of pre rolled blunts.” His eyebrows raised and immediately started putting the paint hand prints on Zoe’s thighs with the other girls until they were finished “It’s never too cold for school spirit.” Mae sighed in an accomplished tone.

Zoe shoved her phone in her pocket and smiled before everyone grabbed what they needed & started heading to the football stadium on campus, Alice & Zoe were in charge of getting good seats while Keith & Mae quickly rolled blunts under the bleachers to smoke during the game & went to get food, Zoe sat on the metal seat & checked her phone noticing Cody’s text “What happened to being warm?” Zoe looked around her surroundings with a furrowed expression until she saw him from the stairway walking up the bleachers with…another woman holding his arm?

Her expression dropped and quickly looked away before Cody noticed she saw him, Alice noticed the sudden mood change “Hey what’s wrong?” She shook her head and pushed back her hair a bit “Nothing, sorry I just zoned out.” Alice smiled and nodded while Zoe stared at her phone watching Cody text her multiple times before she shut it off, Keith & Mae made it to the seats holding a variety of snacks

Most of the game was pretty boring, Keith kept it lively though by being a passionate football watcher, meanwhile Cody wanted to trying to get Zoe to respond to him, the girl who brought to the game was beyond irritable, she was a college faculty member who insisted on going to the game with him, what was her name again? Emily? He didn’t care to remember. All that was on his mind was Zoe. Zoe Zoe Zoe. He watched as she interacted with some guy who sat next to her friend group & laughing at his jokes, soon the laughing turned into flirting..and then the flirting turned into kissing, Cody was beyond furious, beyond.

Once the guy walked off he took it upon himself to follow the guy & snatch rubber gloves from a hot dog stand and putting them on before catching up towards the male who was smoking a cigarette near the bottom of the bleachers who quickly noticed Cody.

“Oh, Hey man you need a light?” Cody shook his had & sighed “Yeah I do actually, mind if I-” The guy nodded and tossed the lighter towards him which he caught, Cody cleared his throat & acted as if he was searching for a cigarette for his pocket until he got tired of acting & i grabbed the nape of his neck & slammed his head into one of the metal rods that held the bleacher up clearly knocking out the guy, Cody grumbled as he lit the lighter & set his hair into flames followed by his clothing before quietly sneaking away from the scene & shoving the gloves in his pocket.

“Fucking idiot.”

Manirhodessxox’s Masterlist

#cody rhodes #oh my fucking goooood #cody rhodes imagine #cody rhodes fic #cody rhodes x you #cody rhodes smut #wwe #wwe imagine #wwe smackdown #wwe jey uso #wwe john cena #wwe gifs #wwe chyna #wwe cody rhodes #wwe superstars #wwe fanfiction #wwe wrestlemania #wwe raw #wweedit #wwe lb #wwe nxt #wwe x reader #wwe liveblog #cody rhodes fanfic #cody rhodes fanfiction #cody rhodes edit #cody wwe #cody rhodes gif #cody rhodes x reader #romance prompts writing

[seungsuki]

button - confessing your love using your school uniform button (gn! reader)

warning: none

note: i don't like the way how i wrote this :(

sakura petals decorated the streets of japan making it look like a scene of a fairy tale. the fairy tale scenario graces the graduation day of namikaze high school. the seniors shouted in joy along with a small party to celebrate their milestone. tears streamed on your friends faces as the last hugs were cherished. the last day of school was clouded by anxiety and excitement for [name]. 

while you were happy to end the dreadful hours of knowledge you'd most likely not use, you were also scared of losing your only friends. promises to keep in contact are made but aren’t always kept. of course, no one is to blame. everyone’s life is bound to be busier than before. [name] was the same. some of your friends are heading abroad forever while others are changing towns. none of that matters to you. you only had eyes for one person. 

bachira meguru 

a silly crush is what [name] would describe it. they happened to be neighbours for many years and because of that, they attended the same schools. he started off as a neighbour to a very good friend but now he stands on a hazy line. you couldn’t describe how he always made you feel special. every breathing minute is spent with him and him only. from the walk to school, lunch, gym and even the walk back home

“we finally graduated!”, bachira cheered balancing the soccer ball on his head as they walked back home 

“yeah.. what are you gonna do meg?”, you asked curiously 

“me? oh i haven't decided yet! i’m probably going to practise soccer more and help my mom around”, bachira said 

“you?”

“i.. i also haven’t decided yet. i might consider taking culinary like dad did”, you groaned remembering the pressure your dad forced on you

should you say it now? you had been planning out perfectly and would finally confess to bachira meguru. with the help and support of your friends, you learned how to ask someone out (most of them were cringe japanese dialogues but you loved them too much to say no). the tip you got was to simply speak your heart out… but how? it frightened you. you never openly shared your opinions with anyone, let alone your feelings. bachira may be your best friend but you never had the guts to talk about how you actually feel 

“meg.. i have to confess something so please take this seriously”, you stopped walking and looked down 

“what’s up [name]?”, bachira stopped too and stood in front of you 

“i- i like you!”, you got it out of your chest before covering your mouth 

“aww i like you too [name]!”, bachira cheered 

“wait, you like me too??”, you asked thinking you misheard 

“mhm! you’re such a good friend! how could i not like you!”, bachira explained 

you stood there listening to his explanation before facepalming. bachira didn’t really have much experience with romance and you wouldn’t blame him. was he really as dense? yes, yes he was. 

“no, i mean i like you! like really really like you!”, you slowly said emphasising on ‘really’ 

“and i also really really like you too! friends will always like each other! i’m not gonna have a competition here!”, bachira said kicking his soccer closer to him 

“meg, i want us to be more than friends”, you clarified hoping his understood 

“oooh”

did he finally understand?

“so you want to be best friends! you don’t need to ask! you’re my best friend since forever!”, bachira added 

“no meg, i want us to be even more than best friends”, you groaned tempted to give up 

“sooo… like best neighbours? ah man then i guess mrs yamada can be my second best neighbour”, bachira said referring to the old lady next door 

“i give up! you’re giving me no choice but to do this!”

your hands reached for your button blouse. reaching the second button, you quickly pulled it out and handed it to bachira, who only looked even more confused. with a red face, you walked out of the scene as fast as you could 

bachira was stunned at what his friend did. are you giving him a trinket? oh no.. does this mean you’ll never see him again? were you leaving the country? forever? bachira began panicking as the thought of losing his only friend would make him cry. he reached home and ran to the person who would know everything; his mom 

“mom! mom! look what [name] gave me!”, bachira shouted with teary eyes 

“what’s wrong- a button?”, his mother dropped her brushes and smile 

“oh my, you’re all grown up my child”, bachira’s mother gave a warm smile almost making her cry 

“[name] is leaving!! see?? i got this as a trinket! mom, we have to stop [name] from leaving! i don’t want my bestfriend gone!”, bachira cried 

“meguru silly, that’s the second button of her uniform”, his mother giggled at her son 

“so?”, bachira asked 

“so it means [name] confessed to you! she wants to be with you for the rest of your life! she doesn’t want to leave you”, bachira’s mother sighed 

“so… she wants to marry me?”, bachira’s eye lit up 

“uh- i guess you can interpret it that way sweetie”, his mother nervously laughed 

bachira blushed looking down at the button in his palm. while you simply confessed your love to him, bachira was now thinking of the future. while he still doesn’t understand the terms of love or dating, at least you would be there with him. his best friend would be with him- or well his partner would be with him

© seungsuki 2024-25 -- do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission. Any characters used in my work do not belong to me, they are created by their original creator

#bachira still thinks you guys are bffs #he’s just a silly pookie #meguru bachira #bachira meguru #bllk #bachira meguru x reader #bachira meguru x you #gender neutral reader #gn reader #gender neutral insert #gender neutral y/n #bachira meguru x y/n #bllk x reader #x reader #bachira x reader #bachira x you #meguru bachira x reader #meguru bachira x you #meguru bachira x y/n #meguru bachira fluff #bachira meguru fluff #blue lock x you #bllk x you #bllk fluff #x you fluff #x you #x y/n #blue lock #seungsuki>ᴗ<

[biteofcherry]

It's Wetnessday my hoes 💦

You're invited along to a bachelorette in Vegas but don't have a great time. It's ok but you often get left out. Just like now in an expensive club that you can't even afford a drink in. You're watching your friends dance and have a good time until a handsome stranger sits down next to you. He's easy to talk to and even buys you a few drinks without seeming to want anything out of it. It's so nice you even forget your friends and your drinking limits. One drink too many and you're more than tipsy. Which ends with you waking up with a huge handover. You're sore all over and don't know why till you open your eyes and realize you went back to the hotel with the stranger who definitely was naked next to you. Holy shit his dick was huge and judging by the soreness it was inside you just a few hours ago. You go to rub your face and something sparkling on your finger catches your eyes. As you're freaking out your husband wakes up and makes sure any rational thought is fucked out of your brain. He can't have that when he's taking you to your new home later today.

Who's your new husband?

xoxo Wetnessday anon 💦

Hi Wetnessday Anon! 🥰 I hope you're feeling better and this week is treating you good 🩷

Now I decided to give it a serious thought. On one hand, many of my favored babes could fit the description of a charming, slightly deceitful man with a pretty, big cock 😎

Now I thought of not only which man would hold the conversation through the evening, making you feel at ease, but who wouldn't feel guilty for getting you really tipsy and using your vulnerable state to get what he wanted.

He may have been drinking, as well, but he sure paid attention to his level of alcohol. I don't believe the Vegas marriage here was pure stupidity and coincidence of the typical Vegas crazy drunk night. He orchestrated it. Even if it was a decision made on a whim. Bet it wasn't even an Elvis chapel, but some scared registrar brought to officiate the wedding in the privacy of the most expensive hotel room.

Which means your husband is someone who can be impulsive in his decisions, but makes sure their execution is perfected. No mistakes. No trails leading hounds to his door.

Lloyd crossed my mind, but would you really feel at ease with him in the beginning? There's this edge to him that wouldn't make you trust him enough to let him buy you more drinks.

Andy or Ari, however...

They don't spend each evening in their clubs, they have trusted people who are responsible for the smooth working of that business machinery. But it just so happens they were in that particular one when you and your friends were celebrating, since they held a meeting in the office right above the main floor.

Andy was quite annoyed with Ari, who kept glancing through the two-way mirrors at you, sitting there alone and nursing a drink while you pretended your smiles were genuine.

But Andy has been prickly lately, ever since the head of the mafia family declared that Andy was to solidify their take-over of the turf by taking a bride. A sister of the man who was now subservient to the new iron rule.

Andy would follow with the plan, even if he wasn't happy about it (even if he snapped at Steve Rogers himself that he should get himself a wife, if he so wishes for unions in blood).

Ari - the romantic that he was - fell into the wedding spirits. Especially as he watched the bachelorette party take over the dance floor and gain attention of most of the patrons.

He wasn't planning on actually marrying anyone, not at the moment as he walked down the stairs and onto the club floor. But then he slid onto that chair beside you and with each passing quarter felt the need to possess your attention forever increase.

Ari may not believe in love at first sight, but he trusted his instincts. And they whispered at him to take you. To make you his.

Now, as you screech and storm out of the bathroom, holding your hand outstretched as if the big diamond on your finger was burning you alive, Ari feels that excitement and satisfaction ignite anew.

Your eyes are so beautiful as you stare up at him shocked and hopeful, as if he could solve this problem and save you from any dangers.

And he will.

Just not from this marriage. No, this he will ensure you see as a blessing, not a problem at all.

#wetnessday anon #reply #fun ask! #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you

[mirandasidefics]

But Home is Nowhere-Part 8

Pairing(s): Lucien x Plus Size Reader, Azriel X Plus Size Reader, and Ruhn Danaan x Plus Size Reader

Part 8 Summary: Lucien senses something is wrong with Reader and seeks out Rhysand. The High Lord feels the magic of the Horn and the pair race off to the Prison. Rhysand gives a warning. Later Azriel and Reader have a much overdue conversation, but it doesn't go as planned. Maybe a line has been crossed...

Word Count: 5.2K

Warning(s): Feelings of hopelessness, physical violence/torture, emotional abuse, tiptoeing around boundaries, Az and Reader ain't nice to each other.

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH TO MY BETA READERS! I felt like this chapter was taking forever to write. I completely rewrote half of this chapter and initially planned for a good conversation between Reader and Azriel. However, once I started writing they had other plans...I worry that Az is too out of character. Italics are inner monologue or flashback.

Series Masterlist

Previous: Part 7

Lucien paced back and forth needing to expel the energy that was building up inside him. His morning had started just fine, heading downstairs to the town house kitchen while (Y/N) slept. He hadn’t expected to come across Rhysand’s petite second in command. Perhaps the former ancient being was now technically third with Feyre taking on more actual leadership duties. Amren had been looking for the Shadowsinger, when she came upon him cooking breakfast for himself and (Y/N). Clearly taking the opportunity to make her personal opinion on his relationship with the human known. The short conversation that followed riled him more than he liked and all he wanted to do was process the topic with the very person that was its focus. However, his friend was now at the mercy of Bryce and Nesta for whatever asinine experiment that the redhead surely concocted.

She hadn’t even been gone for an hour and already Lucien felt that he was going to wear a hole in the area rug in front of their…her bed. He willed himself to ignore the slip. Even though he slept in it every night he spent in Velaris, his own apartment long forgotten, this was her room. Everything in here belonged to her… except his mechanical eye zoned in on the second toothbrush in the ensuite bath.

“Shit,” He quickly looked around the room, finally taking note of his scattered clothing. A shirt was tossed across the back of the vanity chair and the cuff from pair of breeches poked out from under her nightdress in the dirty clothes basket. He sat back down at the foot of the plush mattress. The top side of the heavy feather down duvet was cold to the touch. The bedroom window was wide open to allow the autumn air to cool the room. He was well aware that she enjoyed the cold air surrounding her as she snuggled into the warmth of her bed. He had to admit that he found peace in seeing her relaxed features when he joined her in the bed’s cozy embrace. Maybe that imp was right. Maybe he had become too wrapped up in caring for…her nightmares to realize that a line had been crossed.

Lucien flopped back onto the bed, arm slung over his eyes to block out the mid-morning sun. Vanilla and honey wafted over his nostrils, his human companion’s scent was thankfully the primary one still lingering in the sheets. He took a few deep breaths trying to will the restless energy away when he felt his heart rate suddenly spike. In a rush he sat up and looked around, almost expecting to see an unknown threat at the threshold to the room. He peered out into the hall, the town house completely silent save for Hunt’s deep slumbering breaths down the hall. Panic set into his bones. With a quick flourish he produced a scrape of paper and pen and scribbled a message to Rhysand. He wasn’t entirely sure if daemati would be aware of any mental attempts to reach out to him, so pen and paper it was. Another quick flick and the paper vanished. Within seconds the High Lord was standing before him.

“Elaine is fine, she just set out to do some shopping with Nyx. Feyre couldn’t wait any longer for (Y/N),” Rhysand’s voice strained to sound indifferent, but he was clearly irritated that he had been summoned. “Where is she by the way? It’s unlike her to be late.” Lucien had the good sense to keep his face as neutral as possible. It wasn’t surprising to find out that the High Lord wasn’t privy to his sister in law’s little excursion. But it was unlike (Y/N) to allow herself to be kept late from her time as Nyx’s governess. However, before he had the chance to respond a ripple of power washed over the High Lord.

“There’s an intruder in the Night Court,” His eyes flashed as darkness began to curl around him.

“(Y/N),” Lucien was instantly breathless. Something was wrong with (Y/N)…

“She’s at the Prison,” Rhysand grabbed Lucien’s wrist and before he could object the pair had winnowed away.

Wind whipped around as what Lucien could only assume was the Prison entrance loomed before them. The trio of females was nowhere in sight. His heart was racing and an uneasy feeling sunk to the bottom of his stomach. He looked around for any sign of life, but the island proved to be just as desolate as he expected. Without a word Rhysand took off in a sprint up the left slope. Lucien’s worry had him following. 

Halfway up the steep mountain face, they found them. (Y/N) was on the ground, tears streaming down her cheeks and a silent cry that the wind had surely carried away. He could practically feel the pain that radiated off her. His own heart lurched, pushing his feet towards her before he could think otherwise. 

“It’s okay, sweet girl,” He called on the magic of his fire to quickly warm his skin, arms slipping around her frame. “You’ve got time to cry. I’m right here.” Her sobs tugged at something in his chest. What had happened to cause his friend such pain? She curled into him, gripping at his tunic. He pulled her closer after a heart wrenching wail pierced the air. 

Lucien glanced over to where Rhysand was berating Nesta and Bryce. He was only able to catch parts of the one-sided conversation, his focus on the human woman he was holding. From what he gathered, Bryce attempted to open a portal. He continued to rub along (Y/N)’s back as she continued to cry. Whatever Bryce had used, the magic must be volatile for Rhysand to be this pissed. Naturally, neither of the Fae females appeared to be fazed by his irritation. Lucien was debating on winnowing you back to the townhouse while Rhysand continued his tirade, but the next words that came out of the High Lord’s mouth made his muscles freeze. 

“We cannot risk the Horn falling into Koschei’s hands! Do NOT use it again!”

You didn’t know how long you cried into Lucien’s broad chest. What was surely mere minutes that passed by felt like hours. Despite Lucien’s warmth surrounding you, the frozen tracks of tears bit at your cheeks. You were vaguely aware of Rhysand’s voice as it bellowed and fought to be heard over the roaring of the wind. Or was that overwhelming desolate wail your own voice? He wasn’t yelling at you, of that much you were certain. No, in this instance you were the very picture of the frightened, fragile, and pathetic human girl he surly wanted you to be. Still, you clung onto Lucien as if your very life depended on it; depended on him and the warmth he always willingly provided you. A gust of wind tousled loose strands of hair. Stubby fingers wrapped tightly into fists around the lose fabric of his tunic. You didn’t want to feel this way. The toll that the loneliness and isolation from those that you loved had fully revealed itself.

Like the hidden cave entrance of the Prison, what you thought was just a small crack was really a wide cavern. The small glimmer of hope that the horn illuminated had been ripped away. You felt a familiar emptiness creep its way towards your heart. Slowly the tears came to a halt and you took several steadying breaths. Numb. You had to become numb again. You couldn’t dwell on this failed attempt. With your eyes closed, you focused on the warmth of Lucien’s embrace.

You focused on the image of the black void and the emptiness and hopelessness that the failed portal to your world conjured inside you, and then pictured yourself stuffing it into a little cardboard moving box. Each push of the memory into the box was accompanied by an exhale. You could feel his warm hands on your face, wiping away the tears. The soothing touch helping to ground you. Once the entire memory was inside the box and sealed, you pictured setting the box to the side, along with all of your other awful memories, and opened your eyes. Your vision was flooded with a loving radiance that seemed to shine from Lucien’s sharp features. Your own personal sun bringing warmth and life to your iced over existence.

You had to fight the sudden and surprising urge to reaching out to him. To caress his face and bring it closer to yours. To…you stopped yourself from finishing the thought and blinked rapidly. His mechanical eye whirred, the pupil narrowing as he looked over you. The slight furrow to his brow showing his confusion. At what you weren’t sure as you did your best to mask over your features. You plastered a weak smile onto your lips before he helped you to stand. The sensation of pins of needles slowly washed up from your toes to your knee cap, encircling your calf muscle as the blood rushed back towards the frozen limbs.

“Can you take me back to the townhouse?” Lucien’s hand was warm within your own. “Please?”

“Of course, love.” He wrapped his arm around your waist, and in a instant the two of you were back in your bedroom.

The rest of your day went by in a haze. Lucien winnowed you back to the townhouse so you could change out of the Illyrian leathers. The afternoon weather was vastly different in Velaris compared to the mountain of the Prison. After a quick shower, you opted to put on a short flowy forest green dress. You were grateful for the breezy fabric as you moved about the kitchen in the River House. You and Elain spent most of the day with Nyx and preparing for the family dinner that Rhysand had invited you to join as some type of apology for this morning’s events. You told him that it wasn’t necessary as he had nothing to do with Bryce and Nesta’s decisions, but he insisted. You had been to a few of the Inner Circle’s family dinners, but you were certain that the invitation was mainly for Nyx’s benefit. The fact that you had been roped into helping make the meal took away from any sense of sincerity of inclusion that Rhysand may have intended.

However, keeping busy with dinner prep helped to ensure that your mind didn’t linger on the hopelessness that threated to still pull you under. You kept your focus on the tasks that Elain assigned you, such as kneading and rolling out the dough for bread and a batch of chocolate chip cookies. Nyx somehow ended up covered in flour, but you didn’t mind having to be the one to clean him up. Or at least you would have been had Azriel not entered the space.

Your back stiffened as he voiced a soft greeting to you. You had hoped that was going to be the end of your interaction as he engaged in a whispered conversation with Elain. You focused your attention on Nyx, brushing flour from his clothing so it didn’t sprinkle on the floor as he made his way to the bathroom. You felt a set of eyes on you and your muscles tensed even more. Without having to look you knew that Azriel was looking watching you and Nyx. The child looked over your shoulders, a smile spreading over his features as he gave a little wave to the Shadowsinger behind you. You had to repress the urge to shudder or show any level of discomfort. You knew that Azriel was just waiting to talk to you.

“Alright little one, let’s go upstairs to get you changed,” You moved to lift Nyx so that you could easily carry him. However, before you could Elain squeezed in between you.

“I’ll take him if you can get the bread out of the oven,” You stood, body ridged in front of the counter, as she picked up the small child. You looked between her and Azriel, a grateful smile on his features. Immediately you knew that they’d conspired against you. You couldn’t do this, not after what you already experienced today. You couldn’t be left alone with him and didn’t want to be forced to have any type of conversation.

What does one even say to the person that caused such physical and emotional damage? Did he want to talk about that weird interaction this morning? If so, that could wait. What was there to talk about anyway really? It was a fluke. Reaching for one of the towels you took a deep breath. You were too emotionally exhausted to deal with him, or really anyone for that matter. You just wanted to return to your room. Return to the warmth of your bed and the male that-

“Hi,” Azriel stood on the opposite side of the oven. The thought was cut off by the soft tenor that slithered over you.

“Hi,” Your response was short as you leaned over and opened the oven door. The hot dry air felt like sand blasting against your eyes, your glasses doing nothing to protect them from the heat.

“Could we-”

“I can’t do this with you right now Azriel,” You tried your best to set the cast iron skillet gently on the stove top. The metal clanging loudly as you nearly dropped it from the heat that rapidly soaked through the towel you used to pull it out of the oven. He cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry to hear about what happened at the Prison earlier today,” Azriel’s voice was low. You briefly wondered how he had even heard about the failed portal and then remembered his shadow singing abilities and his position in the court. Of course, Azriel would have easily found out.

“I said not now,” He ignored you and took a step closer. You chanced a glance towards the door swaying on its hinges. Elain having just left in a rush, confirming all the more that she was assisting Azriel in finally cornering you. And perhaps she wasn’t too happy about it either if the force of which the door continued to swing was any indication. His multitude of attempts to speak to you outside of the flight time to and from your training over the past couple months had been unsuccessful thus far.

You were forced to have that contact with him, and while this morning’s behavior would give anyone on the outside a reason to believe you two were close, the fact was that there was still a lot of tension between the two of you. And with today’s events bringing up emotions you hadn’t fully processed, you were already drained. You didn’t have the energy to deal with anything he may have to say to you. And anything he had to say could wait until the morning.

“Then when? I’ve been trying to talk to you for months (Y/N),” He took another tentative step towards you. You took a step back, wringing the towel in your hands. A shadow curled over his shoulder as if it too expected an answer. The dark memory of those same shadows flashed in front of you. You were at least grateful for the fact that you weren’t trembling, well not yet anyway. Perhaps the forced proximity was helping and the interaction this morning wasn’t just some weird fluke.

“You had the opportunity to talk to me this morning,” You slung the towel over your shoulder and steeled your nerves before finally meeting his hazel gaze. “And what the hell was with you this morning?” His brows furrowed. “The Apple? And the Koala comment. I didn’t even know those existed here.” You clarified. The edges of his lips twitched, but he merely shrugged in response.

“It relieved some of the tension did it not?” You could tell he was fighting back a smirk.

“Tension? You think that…” No jokes like this wasn’t his style. With the forced proximity, you had been able to observe how he interacted with others. His sense of humor was drier, much like your own. So, who told him to joke like this? “Do you honestly think that pretending things are just fine…that jokes will magically make everything better?”

“No,” He sighed. “I know that they won’t, but they can help with creating an opening for an apology. It’s the apology- a proper apology that may help get us off the wrong foot we started on.” You were silent. You honestly never expected to receive an apology from him. You had acknowledged long ago that he was following the orders of his High Lord. Was that who was pulling his strings now? The ever obedient Azriel, performing his duties to his court in keeping his loved ones safe by making sure there was no threat from you. While you recognized that he may not have enjoyed his task, how could you expect him to apologize for…doing his job. You certainly hadn’t ever apologized for doing yours. Furthermore, it wasn’t like his words alone would take away the invisible scars of the trauma your time with him caused.

“I want to apologize for…well mainly for how…the situation that…” You scoffed. This most certainly wasn’t a genuine apology. He couldn’t even say it. He couldn’t even say two simple words let alone ever admit the extent of what he did to you in that cell. You shook your head at the way he continued to fumble over his words before you resumed your task of finding a knife to slice the bread cooling on the stove top.

“Just stop,” You took the bread knife out of the block, a metallic ting ringing through the near empty kitchen. His voice trailed off and one of his shadows curled around your wrist. You yelped as the cold of the shadow practically burned your skin. The knife in your hand now clanking against the stone floor.

“I’m sorry,” Azriel stooped down to pick up the object. You desperately tried to control your breaths. You couldn’t tell if the heavy feeling on your chest was from the rising panic that the shadow conjured or the ire of him being able to say those words so easily for something that didn’t matter. A simple accident, such as dropping a knife, was nothing to apologize for, but torture and abuse certainly was.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” He whispered, handing you the knife. “For so many things.” After taking the knife from his scared hands, all you could do was blink. Everything fell silent. You were certain that those in the dining room had gone quiet so as to try and listen into your conversation. You really didn’t want to have this conversation. Mainly because you had no idea how to respond. It had been a year and you still didn’t know how to really move on. While most nights were now nightmare free, you believed that was only because you weren’t always alone in your bed. How could you trust anyone that couldn’t see you were still do dependent on the presence of another to just be normal? For it was when you were alone that the memories haunted you.

You turned the wash basin’s tap allowing the water to pelt against the metal of the knife. Each drop appeared to move in slow motion as they struck the blade. Hopefully the sound of the rushing water would be clue enough for him to end the conversation. Instead, out of your peripherals, you caught him leaning his hip against the side of the basin. His head tilted to try and look at your face. Your hands began to shake so you did your best to busy them with the needless task of cleaning the blade.

“Did you-”

 “I appreciate the effort it took to apologize, Azriel,” You took in a deep steadying breath. “But I’m not in a place where I can easily forgive you. Not just yet.” You recognized that at least that much needed to be said. ‘Acknowledge the apology, even though it is like a farce. You are not obligated to accept it. You don’t owe this male anything. It is Rhysand’s order that forces you to be close to him. Not his own desire to make things right.’ You had to actively fight against the images that started to creep up into your mind.

“I didn’t expect you to,” He countered. “I know healing from trauma takes time and you needed space.”

“And yet you cornered me in the kitchen, completely ignoring my telling you I didn’t want to have this conversation,” You turned the knife over in your hands, letting the now soaked cloth wipe down the blade. Your eyes had long ago left his, focusing on the task in front of you.

“You should have let me come to you-”

“Would you?” His voice took on a slight edge making your heartbeat tick up a few paces. You tried not to remember the last time you heard that tone, but the echoes of his demands resounded through you. ‘ANSWER ME!’ Your body flinched at the memory of an invisible slash across your forearm. You nearly dropped the knife a second time.

“How am I supposed to know when to approach you or when you will be ready to start healing?” You whipped your head towards the male and you felt the spark of your ire ignite. Unfortunately, the anger did nothing to dispel the fear.

“You will know when I tell you,” Your own seething voice was soft. “And my healing is not your, nor anyone else’s responsibility. It is mine. Alone.” Your felt the muscle in your jaw tick as you worked to keep your breath steady. Instead it just felt shallow from the heaviness that coated your chest.

‘STOP LYING!’ Another phantom shout and the heaviness threatened to constrict your airway altogether. It had been a while since the memories of his torture interrupted your waking thoughts. This was the longest you had been left alone with him in a year. The flights to and from the House of Wind never allowed for conversation. If you were to get through this dinner, you needed the memories to go back in their box.

“Have you told that to your Autumn Lord?” His voice held a quiet venom that you had become all too familiar with. One you were certain that his family knew nothing about. “Or do you just enjoy flaunting having another female’s mate in your bed?” Red filled your vision as it tunneled down and a high pitch tone washed over you. You barely registered the feeling of the knife as you flipped it in your hands. The point of the blade creating a dent in the skin under his chin. A thin line of crimson liquid slowly dripped down along the sharp edge.

“Lucien is my friend,” You spat. “Do not talk about him like he is some dishonorable fiend.” 

“Good to see your training is paying off,” Azriel’s smile was dangerous. “You actually managed to cut me.”

“So much for an apology,” You scoffed pulling the knife away. “You’re still just as cruel as you were in that cell.” Azriel took a quick step back, just as the door swung back open. The middle Archeron sister briskly making her away over towards you. The pin drop of blood was now gone from his chin, leaving only the tension in the air between you and the male. Her eyes trailed over the Shadowsinger as she walked by. If you didn’t know any better, you would have sworn that they had their own telepathic communication from the brief look before she plastered a smile on her pink lips.

“Everything is ready,” Elain’s clear and steady voice cut right through the heavy atmosphere. Her smile slowly putting you at ease, allowing you to feel comfortable enough to set down the knife. You and Elain got along quite surprisingly, but there was something strained in her smile towards you. Did she know? Did she put Azriel up to confronting you about her mate and where he slept? You felt your gut twist at the fact that if she knew and felt like she couldn’t say anything to you directly…fuck. You needed to have a talk with Lucien. Though, that talk would have to wait until after this stupid dinner.

Your conversation with Azriel just fueled your doubt and you didn’t want to be here. Maybe you could convince Rhysand to let you go home. It should be a relief to him anyway. You were not considered family to any of them. You were the hired help, no more and no less. Being Nyx’s nanny gave you some type of purpose anyway. There really wasn’t anything else for you to do in this court while you waited to hear if Helion would allow you to step foot into the Day Court. All you could do was wait.

“Ewain!” The kitchen door slammed open with a surprising force, nearly knocking back into the toddler as he chased after his aunt on his tip toes. He rounded the corner of the center island workspace, large bright violet eyes lighting up when he saw you. The child squealed, forgetting his Aunt entirely and made a beeline directly for you. Arms stretched out and up as he continued to run. Nyx reminded you so much of your own nephew, right down to the dark black curls and tan completion. Honestly the only physical difference was the eye color and bat wings that the little one running towards you possessed. You fought back the tears as you scooped him up into your arms.

“Hello my little one,” You cooed before showering him in a flurry of kisses to his now clean chubby cheeks. “Let’s go eat, shall we?” Thankful for the distraction, you carried Nyx out of the kitchen without even a second glance at the male that still very much frightened you.

            A shadow slithered along Azriel’s forearm before winding its way up yours. The bitter cold that the shadow left in its wake burned into your bones. Pain shot down your spine as the shadow wrapped around your throat. The pressure just enough to slow down your ragged breaths. At least that was the intention. Your panicked mind just forced your body to take in shallow gasps. Torn between wanting to get as much air as possible in one instance verse knowing that oxygen needed to be conserved. It didn’t matter though. The darkness around your vision sunk in, your eyes fluttering closed. A soft clicking of the tongue in admonishment. Followed by a sharp pain to your side, the pain seeped into a burn that spread along your entire oblique. You screamed and sobbed. The shadow at your throat slowly twined its way up and around your ear. The whisper soft caress almost that of a lover. That was until the voices started. The voices you always heard in the back of your mind. Worthless, Disgusting, Unloved, Unwanted, Pathetic. The words swirled around you, growing louder with each passing second.

‘You are nothing. So just share your secrets.’

‘Yes, spill them alongside your blood.’

‘Worthless.’

‘Disgusting.’ You tried to shake the swirling voices away, but your head was just so heavy.

 ‘Unloved.’

‘Unwanted.’ You tried to cry, but nothing escaped the darkness those shadows brought.

‘Pathetic.’

‘She’s going to die.’

‘Just die.’

“Will you answer me! Please!” How could you speak though? It wasn’t going to matter what you said, it would only tighten the noose already viciously wrapped around your neck. You didn’t know what else to say.

“(Y/N)! Please!”

 “(Y/N)?” Feyre’s concerned voice cut through the memory. Your body flinched against your will as she gently placed her hand on your arm. You blinked against the brightness of the dining room. You hadn’t even realized the memory complete over took you in the middle of a conversation. You carefully glanced up along the table, each pair of eyes looking at you. You couldn’t determine which sets held genuine concern. Rhysand and Azriel were the only ones that appeared to be complete unaffected by your dissociation. However, you quickly realized they had been having their own mental conversation after the flecks of green returned to the Shadow Singer’s iris.

“S-Sorry,” You tried to cover up the crack in your voice. “It’s been a long day.”

“Then perhaps it would be a good idea for you to take tomorrow off after all?” You had previously told the High Lady that a day off to process would not be necessary. That you were happy to be with Nyx and being with him was enough. But given the looks you were getting from the entirety of the Night Court’s Inner Circle, maybe you should be grateful and take her up on the offer.

“Perhaps,” You mumbled. Your gaze traveled back to the toddler you sat next to. The child smiled, not a care in the world or knowledge of the horror that it held. He banged on the table next to his plate, crumbs lifting into the air briefly. You let out a soft laugh and pushed the darkness from your mind. You took the napkin that had been on your lap, the child’s own being on the floor, and dipped it in your water glass. You quickly cleaned up the juice from the roast that lined his lips and kissed the child’s forehead.

“You’re right,” After placing the dirty napkin on the table you pushed your chair out and stood. You moved Nyx’s highchair out, his arms immediately lifting up in anticipation of being picked up.

“Before you leave,” Rhysand’s voice was smooth. “Helion has agreed to meet you. Next week you’ll go to the Day Court. Az-” The High Lord paused and you were certain that it had to do with the fear that locked onto your body. “Lucien…and Mor will accompany you.” After a beat you managed to dip your head in acknowledgement. You picked up Nyx from his seat, allowing Feyre to give him a kiss before carrying him over to his father. Rhysand gave the child his own kiss before tapping him on the nose. The energy of the male was so different when interacting with his son. It always surprised you. Nevertheless, Nyx said his good byes to all at the table before you took him upstairs.

Back in your world you had helped your own nephew plenty of times in getting ready for bed. Each night with him was hell on Earth and a never-ending fight until he finally passed out from whatever tantrum he threw. Nyx’s bedtime routine was the exact opposite. He enjoyed every minute of his bath and didn’t fight against you when you washed his hair or told him it was time to get out. He enjoyed picking out his own pajamas, and he absolutely loved his stories and your songs. Tonight, he practically begged for a combination of story and song. So, you wracked your brain for a story that would fit the bill while still sending the child off to sleep.

“Alright then little one,” You sat on his bed, back against the headboard. “Cuddle close. I’m going to tell you another story about the two sisters from Arendelle. In this story, Elsa explores an enchanted forest and finds the truth of her powers from the river, Ahtohallan.” Nyx clapped in excitement as you dramatically cleared your throat. Smiling down at the child, you began to sing.

Where the North wind meets the sea…  

Next: Part 9-Coming Soon

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Crossed out names wouldn't let me tag you, or tag the correct blog.

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #lucien x reader #crescent city x reader #bhinfic #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra x plus size reader #azriel x plus size reader #ruhn danaan x plus size reader #ruhn danaan x reader #ruhn x reader

[nawoken]

   Yes, because I got bullied by both of the games I played so... I'm here to rambling some stuff that has been stuck inside my head since forever.

How about... Reader with cute aggression, especially for those small, fluffy creatures, like... cats! (Ơ w Ơ).

You can't help squeezing, kissing, and biting (lightly) those cuties. Yes, you have Grim, but he won't let you pet him since you're too much, his words.

And TWST boys that by some accident, maybe from alchemy class or their clumsiness. They, unfortunately, have turned into those mischievous creatures.

   You don't know that. You just walking around, minding your own business or headmage supposed to be business. Then, you saw it, a cat with the fluffiest fur and cutest eyes you've ever seen run by. And you know, you've fallen in love :)))

   TWST boys, now in cat body don't know that they're in danger, roaming around freely with the hope that someone they know will realize and help them.

   Oh, is that our calm and kind prefect? Surely, they can help our poor boy, right? No! They're deadly WRONG!!!

   The next thing our boy knows after approaching prefect is that he's trapped in your embrace, being kissed, squeezed, and petted while you compliment him on how smooth and healthy his fur looks.

   Damn it, prefect! He is not an actual cat, can’t you see it?! The answer is… No, you can’t. You’re busy admiring his cuteness.

   He is struggling, embarrassed by your doing. Some of them might feel ashamed since it feels like he is taking advantage of you… or the other way around, some just aren’t used to being pampered. But, the worst thing is… prefect, please don’t rub your face on his stomach! Mmraooo!!! :’)))))

   After a while, you finally stop, he sighs out of relief, … but why do you look at him like that? D..do you finally realize that he is not a cat?

   You stared at the poor creature in your hand, thinking. And, this made him concerned, what are you planning to do?

   Before he can do anything, you chomp on his face, more specifically, his muzzle … Yes, you do it without your teeth. But... YOU BITE HIM!!! ON HIS FACE!!! C...CAN THIS COUNT AS A KISS?!

He is panicked and stunned while you're in heaven. This might be the sweetest cat you've ever seen, he doesn't even bite or scratch you when you do all this to him.

Suddenly, pink smoke emitted from the cat, and with a "pop" sound, it turned into a human. Not to mention, you know him. Is it a good or bad thing? You don't know, the only thing you know is... you're DOOM!

You should know that this is a magical world, so you can't just hug any stray cat on the street, it can be anyone, not to say this is your crush. But you got tricked! By those sparkling eyes! And those fluffy ears! And now you can die from embarrassment.

Now, you're the one who panics while he just stands there, not knowing what to do or to say. The cure for this potion, it's a true love kiss. (Another version of the "The Princess and the Frog" potion but instead of a kiss from the princess, it's a true love kiss, why not? :))))

You two end up looking at each other for a whole minute before he decides to speak up but are cut off by you. "Please, just forget everything, this is so messed up of me, I promise I will try to make it up to you somehow, but please just erase that shameful thing I have done from your mind!" (QAQ)

Then you ran off, left him there with bewildered expression.

~~~~♡♡♡~~~

That's longer than I expected :'D

But, yeah, this has been stuck inside my head for too long, finally it can appear under the sunlight...

You know, I want to make a request for that idea. I've followed so many good TWST writers. But, well I'm shy and don't really sure how to, so I just keep it in.

The idea for this post is... I have a cat, she's been suffering from my cute aggression. Ehe, poor her, but she never bites me when I'm chomping on her muzzle. So sweet of her.

But yeah, I can't stop laughing when I think about TWST boy turning into a cat and being chomped on. That must be terrifying for him, but they still tried their best to not scratch you, their dear prefect. Except: Riddle, it's just his reflection, and he feels regret right after. And maybe Leona? Or, he just shows his claw to threaten you but doesn't actually do it.

Nom nom :3

MY ANGEL!!!

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst x you #twst x yuu

[coqxettee]

THAT girl Night Routine

I haven’t blogged in forever, and for that I’m truly sorry (I was in a blogging rut and just genuinely had no idea or motivation to post anything, so I’m kinda writing this not only for myself but for any of the girlies out there trying to get a structured night routine for the coming summer ༓ ☾.｡*ﾟ+.

Start your “Night Routine” at a certain time - Now the evenings are staying lighter, this can be difficult, but I’d say starting at 6:00PM or 7:00PM is a good starting time. Ideally start it after you have had your last meal of the day. Let this be the time of the day that you are going to begin to switch off and get ready to relax ♡

If you like to stretch or do yoga in the evening , do this and then do your skincare and have a shower afterwards, even if it is a quick one. It will make you feel so much more fresh and clean when you put your pyjamas on ♡

Shower - I know some girlies prefer to shower in the morning which is totally okay! And some girls shower twice a day (but of course this isn’t practical for everyone) - If you do choose to shower of an evening, make sure to use calming products. Products with lavender in, essential oils etc can also be really good because lavender has calming properties in it. Moisturise, and if your feeling extra, spray a few spritz of perfume. (I know it sounds crazy but Marilyn Monroe used to do this before bed!) If you are planning on doing a nice hairstyle the next day, prep your hair. Put your overnight curlers in or rollers ♡

Get changed into Pyjamas - *Important* make sure you are picking girly, cozy pyjamas to wear. Feeling luxury even when your just relaxing makes the biggest difference without you realising. Instead of wearing a huge baggy shirt and shorts, wear something satin or linen, something with florals or a pretty pink dressing gown. Soft materials and light pastel colours. Victoria’s Secret have some beautiful pyjamas (I love the striped one’s) and pretty satin robes too. There’s no better feeling than getting out the shower and putting on fresh pyjamas for the evening. A cute fluffy pair of slippers or socks is perfect too ♡

Take off your makeup and do your skincare - *So important* Don’t ever go to bed with makeup on and don’t ever skip your skincare routine. I know (trust me) how tempting it can be to just go straight to bed, but your skin with thank you in the long run and so will you when you wake up in the morning. Spend time with your skincare and try not to think of it as a *chore*. It’s taking care of yourself! So cherish that ♡

Set the evening mood - Tidy your room once more (so your not waking up to a cluttered space), light a candle, switch on fairy-lights. Do whatever you need to, to make your room or space around you more cozy. Main lights in the evening are a no-go. They wake you up and don’t let your eyes or body relax. Soft lighting is key, maybe spritz your room with a relaxing lavender room spray, get your bed ready too. Fluff the pillows, spray pillow mist, set back the covers, do whatever you need to do to let your body and mind know that your getting ready to settle in for the night ♡

Limit screen time - If you are going to go on your phone/technology before bed, make sure the media you are so consuming is light and makes you feel comforted. Do not watch anything too deep that will play on your sub-conscious mind. Girly videos or vlogs are lovely to watch because they put you in such a lovely mood. I know how tempting it can be to be on your phone right up until the last minute when your eyes close. Some of us even believe we HAVE to be on our phones or be watching something, in order to get to sleep. Whilst this may be true for some people, if this is the case for you, just try one evening going to sleep without looking at a screen. I try to limit screen time 2 hours before bed, and don’t look at my phone 45 minutes before sleeping ♡

Journal/reflect/plan - Evening’s are a perfect time to journal about your day in your diary, write out some journal prompts and make your to-do list for the next day. To be an organised girly you have to know what the next day is going to bring, so making a to-do list so you can make the most of your time is key to a successful and productive day ♡

Meditate - I know meditation is not for everyone, but I myself try to meditate once every day, and the lasting effect it can have on your mental health is so impactful and really a beautiful thing. It helps us rationalise things, put our brains to sleep and sets us in a calm and tranquil state for the evening ♡

Make a warm drink - We give babies warm milk to help them sleep and with us, it’s not really that different. milk does contain tryptophan – an amino acid which is thought to help promote feelings of sleepiness. If you don’t like milk, try chamomile/lavender tea or a hot chocolate. Something comforting that will warm you from the inside out and help with drowsiness before sleep.

Read - Hot girls read. That is a fact. But reading is not only beneficial for one’s intellect but it is such a calming and relaxed act, especially when you have a beautiful book you can escape into right before sleeping. Make sure the book you choose is once again light-hearted and is going to be something that makes you feel happy and cozy before you switch your brain off to sleep ♡

Sleep - The most important part of this routine and the reason why you have taken so much care with your evening routine. Gorgeous, gorgeous girlies get at LEAST 7-9 hours sleep every night. Sleep is one of the most important things in life, and for so many reasons, but mainly - It affects everything you do. Your brain, your sub-conscious, how you feel about yourself, your appetite, your skin & eyes, your mood and your energy levels. Absolutely everything about you is affected by sleep, so make sure you get enough. Try to sleep in darkness (or with a small light if you need one) or an eye mask, don’t forget to set an alarm for the next day too ♡

Extra evening tips:

Some important things to consider ♡

Don’t eat late before going to bed! It’s not good for you! Avoid coffee or things with sugar in as these will give your energy instead of helping you to wind down ♡

Satin bedsheets/pillow cases are perfect for protecting your skin and hair. They allow your skin to breathe and protect your hair from marsh materials which helps it to grow ♡

Call a friend/text a loved one in the evening. I love with my parents so I always spend time with my mum before going to bed, but it’s a lovely thing to check on someone before setting in for the evening ♡

Whilst limiting screen time is important, watching one episode of a comfort series or show can help you feel so happy and comforted ♡

Whilst your going about your evening routine, listen to soft girly music. Or classical music if you want more of classic vibe to your night ♡

Listen to subliminal’s overnight!! *Important* and I feel like most of us forget to. But there are so many you can listen to just overnight, and the results will be so worth it ♡

#coquette #coquette aesthetic #lana del rey #baby pink #girly aesthetic #girly pink #girly #girly girl #girly kei #girly stuff #night routine #night aesthetic #it girl #that girl #girly style #girly fashion #girly things #victoria’s secret #2014 aesthetic #clean girl #clean girl aesthetic #that girl aesthetic #it girl aesthetic #girlblogger #girlbloggeraesthetic #girlblogging #girlblog aesthetic #this is a girlblog #girly tumblr #cute girly

[trashytoastboi]

Day of Wrath - Satan

~NSFW Alphabet~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warning: NSFW content ahead (whole bunch of this and that)

A = Aftercare (What are they like after sex?)

📚 Big on aftercare, it helps you but it helps him too. He’s really attentive and will hold you close, giving you tender kisses, whispering lots of praise and love to help you come down from the high. He gives a lot of gentle affection, running his fingers through your hair and touching you in a calming way. He’ll make sure you’re clean and cozy and he won’t let you go until you’ve had some water too. Overall very soothing and gentle, his aftercare is comfort. 

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partners.) 

📚 Favorite part is your neck and eyes. He loves how sensitive your neck is when he buries his face there and can listen to the thrum of your heartbeat, it consoles him so much. Or how sweetly you respond when he lightly sinks his teeth into your neck. Eyes because he finds your eyes so idyllic and he doesn’t mean to sound cheesy but he could happily get lost in them forever, “My love, please open your eyes. Look at me” he’d plead just wanting to see you. 

📚 As for himself, Satan would choose his hands. He likes his hands and feels they are attractive, he enjoys being able to hold your hand while he’s fucking deeper into you, listening to you moaning his name and feeling how you squeeze his hand the moment you cum again, or when he wraps his hand around your neck, just resting his hand there and feeling the way you clench around him. He can feel the heat under his fingers and he loves touching you so, so much and will spend hours just worshiping you and mapping your body with his fingers. 

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically) 

📚 Favorite place to cum is your thighs or chest. Your chest is one you could easily understand but your thighs was a surprising choice from the usually tame demon. He’s a little shy about that particular taste too and he couldn’t tell you how he came to like it as much as he did. He just enjoys how pretty your thighs look when they’re all covered in his cum, he’ll pull out just to stroke himself until they’re coated and he’ll smear it around with his fingers while admiring his mess. Regarding the amount, slightly higher than average and a thick consistency not much to comment about taste as he doesn’t let you swallow. 

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs.)

📚 Maybe a little too true to his nature, Satan had a proclivity for reading his porn. Appreciating the well written stuff, maybe even feeling an itch or two from it. Of course he had the real thing so it couldn't compare. So Satan had a little idea, a little stack of books he conveniently hid under his bed of the very many books in his room. Where better to hide a tree than in the forest. The same was true for his book collection. What was so precious about this book collection you may ask? He wrote them. He is the illustrious author that penned those books, crafting them so lovingly and filling them with EVERY lustful encounter he had with you, recorded in great detail. He even wrote about some fantasies and wet dreams he had. Sometimes when he felt the lack of your presence he'd pull out the book. Reliving the memories while trying to calm his own desire in the process. It only served to make him feel more frustrated in the end. But he'd just planned to take it out on you the moment he gets the chance.

E = Experienced (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

📚 0 Experience before you- unless you want to count all of his vicarious experiences he had through his spicy books. Satan knows what he’s doing in theory (he tries to apply his ‘knowledge’) he does tell you that he’s never done anything sexual and requires your help while asking nicely. Satan loves learning all about your body, mentally taking notes about your reactions and the things you like. His books have given him some practical knowledge and some things he’s learned that are just downright impossible.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying.)

📚 Side by side - One of his more favoured ones if he’s feeling romantic, he loves how close you are. It’s one of the calmer positions and he likes to take you slow while peppering kisses, listening to all the soft sounds you make all the while thrusting deep and intentionally to create a slow burn that just keeps the two of you on edge. 

📚 Mating press - Man’s got preferences, he didn’t even know about it when he accidentally put you into one. (It just came naturally you suppose) Listening to your very garbled explanation while he fucked you through orgasm after orgasm, he’d smile and ask you to repeat what you said because he couldn’t understand. 

📚 Doggy - Enjoys that he can manhandle you quite a bit in this position. Satan has a tendency to get really grabby and needy and this position satisfies that urgency. He’ll hold you in place so you can’t move away and he’ll beg you so nicely to take it. 

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? Etc)

📚 Serious. It’s not to the point that you feel smothered or like you’re at a funeral but he’s certainly not cracking jokes or lollygagging. He genuinely makes this time very much about the two of you and doesn’t get sidetracked from that. You actually appreciate the sincerity and attention more than anything, nothing should or could distract him. Even if there was an earthquake he wouldn’t stop until he feels like he’s adequately satisfied and appreciated you. 

H =  Hair (How well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? Etc) 

📚 Short, neat trim. Would never admit that he has it trimmed into a specific style. Even before you started dating it was a personal choice of his and he preferred it feeling more manageable. (Completely shaved his happy trail though) Unfortunately nature’s little joke on Satan… His hair downstairs is black. Oh is he annoyed by that and while you find it adorable it just grates him so much and makes him all embarrassed. (Admits he used to be entirely clean shaven because of it but its so much maintenance that trimming became easier) 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

📚 Oh so intimate and romantic, and while Satan can get a little rough when he gets into it (Little is understatement boi goes feral) he can’t help it. You feel too good, look so good underneath him and he just wants to hold you closer, give you more and Satan wants to hear you attempting to hold back your moans as you cry his name. He could be ravaging you in a way that’s nothing short of animalistic and simultaneously be kissing you so tenderly, holding your hand, telling you how good you make him feel and how wonderful you are,

J = Jack Off (Masturbation Headcanon)

📚 Satan takes the time to set it up for himself. He’s a romantic after all and he’ll make sure his space is all nice, might even light a scented candle for himself. Makes sure he’s got some material to help him along. He’s so thankful that he convinced you to let him record the two of you. You were a little uncomfortable with the idea of a video so he settled for a voice recording. It really does it for him, listening to you. It’s got nothing on the real thing but it really helps to stoke the imagination. He gets so desperate, moving his hand faster and faster, his other hand clamped over his mouth to prevent himself from getting louder until he’s making a mess and cumming all over his hand. 

K = Kink (One or more of the kinks)

📚 Pet Play - Not to the point of having you sleep in a cage or eat out of a bowl from the floor, his love of this particular kink is a little more surface level. It started with Solomon jokingly giving you a set of magic ears and tail that temporarily fuse with you to become real, so you can feel real sensation. Brings a whole new meaning to you being Satan’s kitten, he loved pampering you and how you became a little more feline-esque due to the influence and it stokes something in him. He likes how cute and affectionate you get. Plus you look good in collars...

📚 Soft Dom - Satan is domineering, and likes it when you submit to him. He’s so soft, he doesn’t raise his voice and if you’re trying to misbehave, the sickenly sweet way he kisses you asking you to behave and be good for him. Just let him make you feel good. You submit because how could you say no to him. 

📚 Voice kink - He’s borderline obsessed with your voice, he loves it all. How you sing randomly, how soft you speak or the slight unsteadiness in your voice when you’re nervous. Satan adores the sweet way your voice gets louder when you’re excited, but he loves it the most when you’re moaning for him. Begging, praising, screaming, whining and crying his name. He swears he could cum from your voice alone. (And he has)

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

📚 His room - Requires a little rearranging to make sure there’s space for the two of you to get a little crazy and uninhibited. You learned your lesson when you accidentally were holding onto a shelf that broke and you got bonked by a few books. (Satan kept apologizing profusely but you let him make it up to when he let you ride him until you were satisfied )

📚 The library - A tad more risky but a place he really loves, drilling you into the comfy couch or having your thighs around his head while he’s making you read to him while he’s working you over with his tongue. Satan is diligent about locking the doors- Lucifer did break the lock once and it was awkward for everyone. 

📚 He has a secret spot in the garden that’s pretty secluded and has a really pretty view of the sky - It’s quiet, pretty and maybe fulfills a little bit of a public urging. Satan would never actually do something public he’s a bit too shy for that but the garden is pretty and so are you so why not :D

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going?)

📚 If he gets the random memory of the two of you doing something and it comes and goes randomly. He’ll awkwardly have to hide the tent in his pants. Also what really gets him going is if you initiate something as simple as a look, if it’s that look. He’s good to go. You chalked it up to his inexperience initially until you realize that he’s really just that easy to get all worked up and cute. 

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

📚 Satan does get rough however not to the extreme though. You've never once used your safe word (He takes pride in that) He’ll pull your hair, choke you and spank you- gladly within reason and you love that he has such great control to give you what you want without pushing the hard limit. He wouldn’t do anything that’s going to scare or stress you out. - Stuff like CNC is a hard limit for him because he knows the nature of the scene but the idea of forcing you (even if you’ve consented and you’ve placed all the necessary limits and safety measures) doesn't sit right with Satan. He wouldn’t allow himself to hurt you or scare you. 

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

📚 He’s a generous soul who will gladly give you as much as you want, whenever you want. But guilty little admission he actually prefers receiving. Satan explains that he doesn’t feel like he’s as good as he wants to be, researching all about techniques and even asking Asmo for advice (Getting information overload) but he takes more pride in other things like his hands and feels it does the job better than his mouth. 

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc) 

📚 Satan gets worked up easily and ends up going for a faster pace. He’s on the rougher side with gentle tendencies, he has moments when all he wants is that slow lovemaking, where he just kisses you and holds you close like the two of you have all the time in the world (Especially loves this in the late night when you’re both tired and just take things slow) for the most part though he’s on the fast and rough side 

Q = Quickie (They opinions on quickies, how often etc)

📚 While he would love to spend wayyyyy more time with you; quickies are enough to whet his appetite for now- He’s learning what makes you tick and how to get you to cum as quickly as possible, maybe three times during the quickie (What can he say he’s an overachiever) Satan mostly does quickies for you and while he enjoys them too he’d prefer having more time.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? Etc)

📚 He’s read some pretty spicy things in his books that he wants to try out with you- Thanks to Solomon and all his very…interesting creations they’re pretty doable. He’d discuss it with you and make sure you’re comfortable with it before trying anything but he appreciates that you’re open to trying stuff out with him (You mostly enjoy what kind of unhinged requests Satan shows up with honestly) 

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

📚 Satan has too much stamina- and you’re not even playing. Firstly individual round wise he lasts long and it’s always “Just one more round” with him. You’ve put a 3 time limit on his “just one more round” because you really won’t be able to walk if he carries on. Plus you’d like SOME sleep at the very least. Satan will pout and push his luck sometimes you give in, other times he’ll just accept a helping hand. 

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or on themselves?)

📚 He doesn’t own any toys but he sure did have a fun time when he found yours and used it on you. It was really fun for him to watch how you lost your mind and got all bashful in front of him. You have been wanting you to introduce him to more things, and having explained that there’s such a variety that he might end up wanting a few for himself. Satan needs proof or else it’s not real. Sassy boi just wants to watch you get yourself off.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease?)

📚 50/50 He likes to tease you but doesn’t draw it out that long, Satan doesn’t have enough patience to draw it out for long. He’s the one who’s always giving in first even though he’s the one teasing you. He’d just grab you and pull you close telling you he can’t wait anymore and he needs you right now. Who are you to deny when he’s rutting against you and making a mess on you. 

V = Volume (How loud they are? What sounds they make? Etc)

📚 Growls - a lot. Groans, never really moans but he’s capable of it. He’s on the softer side you’ve never really had to worry about him getting too loud even when he’s cumming he’ll roughly kiss you and groan into the kiss. Besides Satan doesn’t want to drown out your voice so he keeps reign on his own. 

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character?)

📚 Hates not being able to touch you- makes him restless and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. If you’re riding and he’s so eager to rest his hands on your hips and you’d push his hands to the bed telling him no touching. Probably the only time you’d see Satan sulk and beg, “Baby please? Lemme hold you…baby don’t be mean” he knows you’re swayed when he sweet talks you, and you’d compromise but letting him hold your waist and that’s it! No wandering hands. He promises (always breaks them) 

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes?)

📚 Shorter length, good 6.5 inches but quite girthy (honestly you tell him it’s just perfect) He’s memorized your body and how to move his own to hit all those places that make you drool. Surprisingly pale on the shaft, a dark head and a lot of thick veins.

📚 Demon form: One of the most surprising physical changes- in size and shape… it nearly changes altogether. Satan’s animal representation is a unicorn you did say that it’s accurate considering he’s as sweet as sugar and a sparkly rainbow when he wants to be (he begged you to call him cute instead) but you didn’t realize that maybe…just maybe it would translate over in the way it did in his demon form. Satan found that you were into it so he didn’t mind, although your initial reaction had him concerned and he was worried if it was too big for you (but you’re a lil freak so it's okay :3 ) 

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

📚 Average, he doesn’t spend every waking moment yearning for sex and has pretty normal (normal by the standard of a demon you’d imagine) urges. Some days the mood strikes him and he wants you, he’ll feel you out see if you’re up for it. If not he won’t force it and quietly take care of it himself then he’s good for a while. (Probably one of the only brothers that could take No Nut November) 

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards?)

📚 Not immediate, got a good 45 minutes in him and sometimes he grabs a book to lull him to sleep. Likes when you lay on his chest and he’ll read to you from whatever page he left off on. Sometimes he gets a little thoughtful and brooding afterwards which can keep him up but he’ll eventually fall asleep. 

Taglist: @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf

#trashytoastboi #obey me #seven days of sin event #satan #obey me satan #unholy toast #male reader #female reader #gender neutral reader #satan x reader #obey me nightbringer #om! nightbringer #unholy toast alphabet

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

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a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - none

y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷

Chapter 17

Late one evening, shortly before Christmas of 1966, Matt rapped lightly on my door and called, “Sattnin, I have to talk to you.” We had a password. Teasingly, I told him he’d have to utter it before I’d admit him. He laughed and said, “Fire Eyes”—the nickname I gave him when he was angry.

He had his old boyish grin on his face and his hands were behind his back. “Sit down, Baby, and close your eyes.”

I did. When I opened my eyes, I found Matt on his knees before me, holding a small black velvet box.

“Baby,” he said.

I opened the box to find the most beautiful diamond ring I’d ever seen. It was three and a half karats, encircled by a row of smaller diamonds, which were detachable—I could wear them separately.

“We’re going to be married,” Matt said. “You’re going to be mine. I told you I’d know when the time was right. Well, the time’s right.”

He slipped the ring on my finger. I was too overwhelmed to speak; it was the most beautiful and romantic moment of my life.

Our love would no longer be a secret. I’d be free to travel openly as Mrs. Matt Sturniolo without the fear of inspiring some scandalous headline. Best of all, the years of heartaches and fears of losing him to one of the many girls who were always auditioning for my role were over.

He was in a rush to show the ring to his father and Grandma and to tell them that we were officially engaged. I didn’t even have a chance to get dressed. Considering our irregular life-style, getting engaged in my dressing room and showing off my beautiful diamond while dressed in a terrycloth robe didn’t strike us as at all odd.

I wanted to share the great news with my parents, but he suggested we wait until we returned to L.A. a few weeks later. Then we could tell them in person; they deserved that consideration. That night, we called my parents and invited them to spend a weekend with us in Bel Air.

On the day they were due to arrive, Matt was as excited as I’d ever seen him. He kept looking out the window, watching for their car. He was dying to show them the ring and almost did the moment they walked in the door, but I managed to keep my hand behind my back until we were all settled on the sofa. The second we were seated, he pulled my hand from behind me and said to my parents, “Well, we just wanted to show you this.”

“What is it?” my father asked, peering at my hand.

“Well, sir, that’s an engagement ring.”

Tears trembled in my mother’s eyes. “My God,” she said softly. “It’s beautiful.”

They were both ecstatic. We loved letting them know that what they’d so long hoped and prayed for had now come to pass. We emphasized the importance of keeping our announcement a secret, asking them to maintain strict confidence even within the immediate family, since the kids might tell their friends at school and then word would be out. We wanted a private wedding, not a celebrity event. My parents agreed with all the plans. They couldn’t have been happier, and all weekend they beamed with pleasure.

In the five years I’d lived with Matt, I would rarely let them discuss marriage with Matt. The possibility of their daughter being hurt was foremost in my parents’ minds. Now they no longer had to worry whether they’d made the right decision in allowing me to leave home at such a young age.

I know that Colonel William asked him to take a long look at our relationship and decide where he wanted it to go. Matt’s attitude toward marriage was that it was final. Although he was monogamous by nature, he loved options. Still, he wasn’t about to let me go. Curiously enough, after his talk with Colonel, it didn’t take him long to decide the time was ripe.

It was his decision and his alone.

In our excitement we made the rest of our plans for the wedding ceremony. It was suggested I find a dress immediately, the reason being that if the news leaked out, we could get married at a moment’s notice. But my search for a wedding dress ended up taking months. Disguised in dark glasses and a hat, I shopped every exclusive boutique from Boston to L.A. where, despite my disguise, I was paranoid enough to think people recognized me. I even spoke with several seamstresses about designs but I didn’t trust them enough to tell them it was for a wedding dress.

Finally someone suggested a little out-of-the-way shop in L.A. Charlie escorted me, posing as my fiancé, and it was here that I found my wedding dress. It wasn’t extravagant, it wasn’t extreme—it was simple and to me beautiful.

I glided out of the dressing room to model it for Charlie, and when he saw me, his eyes filled with tears. “You look beautiful, y/nn,” he said, and whispered, “He’ll be so proud of you.”

It was the February after our engagement. We were driving near Horn Lake, Mississippi, when we spotted a beautiful ranch—one hundred sixty acres of rolling hills. A herd of Santa Gertrudis cattle was grazing. There was a bridge across a little lake, a barn with stalls for horses, and a charming house situated in a prime location. It was for sale.

This was my perfect dream house. I fell in love with it and began to picture Matt and me living there alone. It was small enough for me to handle myself. I could clean it and take care of Matt, bringing him his breakfast in bed in the mornings as he gazed out at the gentle view of Rising Sun grazing in the pastures.

I thought of this ranch as a wonderful way for us to get away from Graceland from time to time. I pictured us saddling our own horses and riding in the early morning or at dusk. My picture was of us alone, without an entourage.

We were determined to buy it, never foreseeing the burden it would become. He wanted the ranch as much as I did, even though James said that at $500,000 it was overpriced. He felt the owner could offer a much more desirable deal and tried to persuade us that financially it was not a good move. Matt’s movies were continuing to decline in popularity and record sales were down. He was averaging a million dollars a film and the money was going out as quickly as it was coming in. Yet Matt’s mind was made up. He wanted it.

James grudgingly went to the bank to borrow money, putting Graceland up as collateral. We bought the entire ranch as was, including cattle and equipment, and christened it the Circle G for Graceland.

We had eighteen horses by then, and all were transferred to the ranch as was the staff of nine. It was the heyday of the commune, but Matt had his own idea about how he wanted us all to live. Since the house on the property was small, he bought individualized mobile homes and designated one to each family. James worked diligently to get permission from the city to put gas and water on the ranch.

“Whatever it takes, do it,” Matt ordered.

Before long, tons of cement were being poured to make the huge concrete foundations for the trailers. It didn’t stop there. He bought El Caminos or Ranchero trucks for each family, even one for the plumber and another for the painter. He spent at least $100,000 on trucks alone.

He continued spending money as if it were going out of style. Alarmed, James literally begged him to stop, but Matt said, “I’m having fun, Dad, for the first time in ages. I’ve got a hobby, something I look forward to gettin’ up in the mornin’ for.”

It wasn’t unusual to see him walking around the property, knocking on doors, waking everyone up, or checking on the horses in the early-morning hours. He was having a ball, and there were days he didn’t even want to take time out to eat—he’d walk around with a loaf of bread under his arm in case hunger pangs struck. He loved shopping in Sears’s basement, buying power tools, knives, flashlights, and other equipment that he would come bearing proudly back to the ranch.

That spring of 1967, we spent a lot of time there, sometimes staying as long as two weeks without returning to Graceland. On Sundays we had picnics and all the girls chipped in on potluck, bringing chicken baskets, cookies, and salads. We rode horses, held skeetshooting contests, and combed the lake for turtles and snakes. There was fun, laughter, and a lot of camaraderie. Once again, our life was a group affair with everyone participating.

Even in my tiny house there’d be guests for dinner every night, usually single guys like Steven and Charlie. Cooking for Matt was easy: I’d just take whatever we were having and burn it. But there were so many others that his cousin Patsy would usually stop by to help me. The guys with wives would have dinner in their mobile homes and then come over for dessert and spend the rest of the evening with us.

There was always a lot of jamming. Matt, Steven Wright, and Charlie Hodge would get together in the middle of the room, harmonizing a favorite song. When they were really going good Matt would yell, “Whew! Hot damn! One more time!” He’d sometimes spend an hour just on an ending because it had “the feel—the ingredients of a masterpiece.”

Just as the entourage had followed us to the ranch, so did the curious. The same ones who gathered around Graceland started turning up at the Circle G and soon—day or night—scores of people were lined up along the fence. Since our little house stood in full view of the road, Matt built a ten-foot-high wall, but nothing deterred them; now they began climbing on tops of cars and roofs of nearby homes. We couldn’t get away from them, and I dreaded driving through the gates.

The dream was slowly turning into a nightmare. The wives wanted to get back to their homes, and the children wanted to get back to their friends and their schools.

Matt liked it when everyone was together on terms he alone specified—and he got upset when they wanted to leave. “Hell, I bought all this stuff,” he said, “and everyone wants to go home.” He resented defections; he’d given the employees everything and they didn’t seem to appreciate it. He discovered that some of the regulars were selling their trucks. They needed the cash more than the El Caminos. Matt couldn’t imagine the financial struggle most people face and he never understood that the married regulars had to consider responsibilities to their wives and children.

Still, he enjoyed giving and sharing even as his own bank account was radically diminishing. An expensive hobby, the ranch had already cost him close to a million dollars and created a serious cash-flow problem. In daily phone calls to the Colonel, James pleaded with him to come up with some work to divert Matt from his spending spree. The Colonel promptly made arrangements for another movie, Clambake. Matt read the script, yet another beach-and-bikini story, and hated it.

James convinced him he didn’t have much choice. “We need the money, Son.” And Matt was committed.

“I don’t wanna leave here, y/nn,” he said. “I don’t want to leave you, the ranch, Sun. Ain’t no son of a bitch gonna keep me away long. That goes for Dad, Colonel, the studios—no one. Their little plot to keep me from spending money ain’t gonna work. If I need money, I’ll go to Nashville and record a few songs. It’ll be better than those lousy goddamn pictures.”

Neither he nor James ever considered turning the Circle G into a profit-making operation. All the necessities for a successful farm were present—tractors, feed, and the finest Santa Gertrudis cattle, bred on the Rockefeller ranch—but he sold the cattle after James advised him that upkeep was too expensive. With professional financial counsel, Matt might have pursued legitimate business ventures beneficial to him and his hobby.

Unfortunately, James and Matt were leery of business matters requiring financial advice. James operated on pure instinct, refusing any suggestion of tax breaks, which he found too complicated to consider. He let the IRS figure Matt’s taxes and had done so ever since Matt had been audited while in the Army and assessed eighty thousand dollars in back taxes.

“Let’s just pay the taxes, Dad,” Matt said. “I make enough money. I’ll make a million dollars and I’ll give them half.”

It was during the filming of Clambake that our lease on the house on Perugia Way in Los Angeles expired and we had to go looking for a new home. After our experience at the Circle G, we were concerned with protecting our privacy, and when we spotted a secluded home nestled against a hill in Bel Air, we thought we’d found sanctuary at last. But privacy was to elude us here as well.

Soon, hundreds of people began collecting on the mountain road directly above us and observing the view below through binoculars and telephoto lenses. We could no longer use our pool, patio, or driveway without looking up at an audience, including reporters and photographers who were having a field day trying to get candid photos and scoops.

The situation occasionally got out of hand. One night when Matt went to Mount Washington to talk with Daya Mata and I was driving to Amber Doe’s (Nate’s wife) for a visit, I noticed a car with bright headlights tailgating me. It was one of Matt’s most ardent fans, a two hundred-pound female who was accompanied by another girl and a guy. Feeling unsafe, I decided to turn around and go home. She followed close all the way and by the time I drove through the gates, I was furious.

Seeing her drive up to the dead-end road above our house, I sped after her, parking my car broadside across the road, blocking her. She was standing beside her car when I strode up and demanded: “What are you doing here? Why are you following me?” She stood there mutely and again I demanded: “Why are you following me?”

“You whore,” she snapped.

Incensed, I clenched my fist and swung an uppercut, hitting her in the face. She landed on the ground, spread-eagled and stunned. I landed on her and the two of us yelled, screamed, and pulled hair until I realized I needed help. I ran back to our front gate and yelled into the intercom, “Someone—Sonny, Jerry—come help me!”

Within seconds Matt came flying out of the house with the guys close behind him. “What is it, Baby?”

When I explained, pointing to the ridge, Matt went charging up the hill. Seeing him coming, the girl and her friends locked themselves in her car. Matt was livid, lifting the car on its springs, bouncing it from side to side. He pounded the windshield, threatening to kill them if he ever got his hands on them or if they ever laid their hands on me.

“I’m underage! I’m underage!” she kept yelling. “I’ll sue you if you touch me.”

It took a lot of convincing from Sonny that she was more trouble than it was worth before Matt would let her drive away.

Matt was so despondent over Clambake that his weight ballooned from his usual 170 to 200 pounds by the time he reported for work. The studio ordered him to take the weight off—and fast. Enter the diet pills, the only way he could curb his appetite and reduce his weight in the short time allowed. Colonel managed to deal with the impatient studio brass.

The morning he was to begin shooting he awoke groggy and went into the bathroom while I was still in bed. I heard a loud thump, then cursing. “Goddamn motherfucking cord! Who the hell put this thing here?”

I jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom, calling out, “What’s happened?” He was lying on the floor, rubbing his head.

“I tripped over the goddamn TV cord. It was so damned dark in here I didn’t see it. Help me out of here—I have to lie down.”

Although he was dizzy and off balance, we managed to make it to the bed. Feeling a big lump on his head, I called Nate Doe at once, who summoned Colonel William and a doctor. Within minutes, the room was full of people—the doctor, his nurse, Colonel William, and several nervous studio executives. Colonel suggested that everyone but himself wait outside while the doctor made his diagnosis.

A few hours later it was announced that Matt had a severe brain concussion and that the start of his film would be delayed indefinitely. The Colonel decided to use the accident to curtail some of Matt’s other activities. He wanted Matt to abandon his involvement with esoteric philosophies, which the Colonel felt were irrelevant to Matt’s acting career and detrimental to clear thinking.

Matt’s spiritual quest hadn’t gone unnoticed. Everyone from the entourage to film crews was aware of a change in his personality over the years he’d studied with Larry Geller. Matt’s vibrant personality was now passive and he was becoming more introverted. The mischievous games he’d once played on movie sets had been superseded by studious pursuits. Matt buried his head in books that he diligently lugged to and from the studio every day.

The person most concerned about this change was Colonel William. The Colonel felt that Larry’d hypnotized Matt, and his acting and recording careers were suffering as a result. Matt’s “concussion” provided an opportunity to put a halt to the soul-searching.

A few days after the accident, the Colonel gathered Matt and the boys together for a meeting and told them they were burdening Matt with too many problems. “Dealing with one person is one thing,” he said, “but eleven, plus his own problems, is enough for any man to buckle under.”

The Colonel told them that there were going to be some changes, from cutting back the payroll to taking problems to Nate instead of Matt. His basic message was: Leave Matt alone.

“Matt should concentrate on his career,” he said. “He’s an artist, not a shoulder to cry on. Leave him alone, and let him do his work.” The Colonel looked over at Larry; it was obvious that his message was primarily aimed at him. “I don’t want him reading any more books and getting involved in things that clutter up his mind.”

Matt sat and listened like an obedient child, looking down, saying nothing. He did not stand up for Larry; no one did.

Later the Colonel told Matt that he should get Larry out of his life, that Larry used some sort of technique to manipulate his thinking. Matt argued that this wasn’t the case. He was truly interested in his readings.

“You wouldn’t be in this condition if your head was on straight,” shouted the Colonel.

“I’m telling you, Larry’s jamming up your mind.”

I was surprised at how attentively Matt was listening. Matt had always argued with anyone, even me, who said anything against Larry. At one point; it seemed Matt would cut off his right arm for Larry. But now Matt promised the Colonel he wouldn’t spend any more time than he had to with him. He kept his promise. He only used Larry to style his hair and was never alone with him again.

After that meeting, the boys became openly hostile toward Larry, and even Matt began making a few pointed remarks about him. Larry was now the outsider, and he eventually left. Colonel William was elated. His boy was back.

Matt was ready for a major change and it was time to move on. The Colonel said his films were doing badly and he had to revitalize his career. He’d be getting married soon, and before that date he’d have to get his career and life back on track.

After Larry left, Matt locked away many of his books. I told him I was glad, that they were literally destroying us. We were engaged to be married. “Would it make you feel better if I just got rid of them all?” Matt asked. I nodded.

That night, at three in the morning Matt and I piled a huge stack of his books and magazines into a large box and dumped them into an abandoned water well behind Graceland. We poured gasoline over the pile, lit a match, and kissed the past goodbye.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd. This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - engaged!!🎀

#matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturn #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #Spotify

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 23/34 - filing cabinet

[Read on AO3]

The water cooler gurgles as he fills a small paper cup and takes a sip. Today had been the day. After weeks of going through personnel files for prospective replacements, they finally met with a few candidates. He meant what he said to Scully; he’s ready to let go of the reins a little. That doesn’t make the actuality of handing over the X-Files any easier.

Force of habit, he thinks, to resist any and all efforts to boot them from the X-Files. He has to keep reminding himself that it was his idea this time, and that they’d still be working on them in a consulting capacity anyway. He isn’t quitting cold turkey. And besides, they’re moving on to bigger and much better things.

Lost in thought, he doesn’t notice at first when a few other guys gather around, each filling their own cups with water.

“So, Garcia,” the first one says, addressing a man Mulder vaguely recalls works in Organized Crime. “I hear the wife’s about to pop. You ready?”

Agent Garcia smiles, nodding his head. “Oh yeah. We’re going out tonight. One last night on the town before the baby gets here, you know?”

“You gotta do it,” another agent says. Agent Mann, or something silly like that, Mulder thinks. “They call it a ‘babymoon,’ you ever heard of that? My wife and I took a trip down to the Isle of Palms for ours before Michael was born. Great beaches. Now we’re lucky if we make it to the coast without one or all of our kids ingesting sand.”

The men share a hearty laugh, and Mulder feels a little out of place.

“Amy would have killed me if I hadn’t taken her out for a nice dinner before our first,” the first agent says. “It was another two years before we were able to go to a nice restaurant alone, so I wouldn’t have blamed her!”

Is this something people do, Mulder wonders? Is Scully expecting it? Maybe he had missed the memo at some point. Is there a soon-to-be-dad handbook somewhere that tells them how to win points with their wives before they become parents? Should he have come up with a plan to do something special for Scully? Their lives are about to irreversibly change, and he hadn’t even considered, really, that very soon, it won’t be just the two of them anymore. There will be a third person, someone entirely dependent on them just to stay alive.

He fills his paper cup again, feeling sweat begin to form under his collar.

Dinner. He can do dinner, that’s a good idea. He should ask her. One last hoorah as the infamous Mulder-Scully duo for old times’ sake. She’d like that.

With a polite nod and a forced smile at his fellow agents around the water cooler, he heads back toward the elevator, and back to the basement.

-.-.-

“Hey, there you are,” Scully says as he shuts the door behind him. She’s elbow deep in one of the filing cabinet drawers, evidently rooting around at the back for a stray piece of paper that has escaped a folder. “Help me figure out which files to make copies of. I know you’re going to want to keep some of them,” she says.

She knows him so well. He’s already started making a mental list of ones he wants to have in his personal collection. The Bellefleur file, for example. And of course, the ones with his name or Scully’s in it, but those are for much less happy, nostalgic reasons.

Slouching his suit coat off his shoulders, he rolls up his sleeves and approaches the drawer, offering his assistance in reaching the wayward scrap of paper. Her little arms are too short, a fact which he intends to tease her about later. His fingers successfully find the edge of the document, and he extracts it with careful precision.

A familiar picture stares back up at him, giving him a hearty chuckle.

“Remember this one?” he asks, turning his sketch of the Jersey Devil back toward her.

She laughs as she takes it from him, inspecting it. “How could I forget?” she says, “I think this image is forever ingrained in my psyche.”

“Hey, don’t make fun of my drawing,” he says. “I want a copy of that file. With my beautiful artwork, please.”

She rolls her eyes, but opens up a folder and slides the paper in its rightful place. He can’t help but notice it was already in the ‘to-be-xeroxed’ pile before he said anything.

The office falls silent as he continues rifling through the cabinets, plucking out a file here and there that he wouldn’t mind keeping. It’s a walk down memory lane, for him. Flukeman, Big Blue, the vampire sheriff in Texas… Who would have thought that seven years later, he’d still have Scully by his side as he prepares to let go of what became his life’s work? Their life’s work. She should have run screaming from here years ago, but she didn’t.

Now look where it’s gotten them.

Glancing up at her from over the top of the overstuffed file drawer and filled with a sudden surge of gratefulness that he doesn’t know what to do with, he blurts, “Let’s go out to dinner tonight.”

She freezes, and he mentally kicks himself for the hasty delivery of his idea. Theoretically, he should have planned a better way to ask her. After a second that feels like an eternity, she turns to him with a skeptical tilt to her brow and a small smile. 

Well, at least he knows he’ll still get to see her make that expression at him even when they’re off the X-Files.

“I mean, we could try that new place in Dupont Circle. The one your mom was telling you about? If you want.”

“What’s the occasion?” she asks, folding her arms expectantly in front of her chest as she leans back in his office chair.

“You know,” he shrugs, “pretty soon it won’t be just us anymore, and I– I like… spending time with you… So I just thought it would be nice to—”

She smiles shyly. “That sounds great, Mulder,” she says, interrupting his fumbling explanation. “Tonight at seven?”

He grins, ducking his head to hide his goofy expression. “Yeah, seven. I’ll make the reservations.”

-.-.-

In hindsight, this is a crazy idea. The restaurant they’re going to is extravagant. Ostentatious. And he knows Scully knows it, too. The margin of error for plausible deniability here is extremely small, and if she doesn’t have some idea of his feelings for her already, he’s going to have a hard time keeping it that way as they sit in a low-lit room munching on those fancy breadsticks and drinking expensive wine.

What had he been thinking? He asked her out without even sparing it a thought, not realizing how it would sound. To be going out on a date with your best friend who is also technically your wife? Langly and Frohike were right. He is an idiot. What is he supposed to do on this ‘date?’ How is he supposed to act? Does she expect anything from him? Is this his last chance to make a move? What does it mean that this is one of the last nights they’ll spend alone together before someone literally hands them a baby and lets them take it home?

The idea of making a move, after all this time spent explicitly trying not to do exactly that, has him in a spiral. He paces around the floor in his bedroom, trying not to think about what dress Scully might be putting on in her room on the other side of the hall or what she might be doing with her hair.

He can’t upset the status quo like this with the baby due any time in the next few weeks, can he? Bad idea. Bad, bad, idea. But at the same time, when else would he get the chance? He’d heard what the other agents had said… it was years in some cases before new parents got the chance to really be alone. What if he had to spend the next several years silently pining for his own wife in the home they share together, watching her be a mother to the baby they adopted? Maybe there’s a reason people don’t get into arrangements like this with their platonic best friend, after all.

How stupid was he to think he could do this without letting his feelings get in the way? Why on earth didn’t he just tell her months ago, before all this started, instead of getting his hopes up?

The answer, of course, is that he wants this. He wants this family more than anything, even if it's never anything more than friendship and cohabitation with Scully. He would have scared her away if he told her the same day she found those adoption brochures on his desk. It would be too much at once. He knows her, she would have been overwhelmed.

But, man… What if?

He checks his reflection in the mirror one more time, smoothing his hair into place. He hopes he didn’t overdo it on the cologne. Should he be wearing a tie? He puts on one that Scully got him several years ago, complete with a tie clip he’d gotten from her mother at Christmas.

He hesitates over the chain he wears under his shirt. What would Scully think if he took it off and wore it on his finger tonight? He finds that he wants to. Just a normal husband and wife grabbing dinner together. Without giving it much thought, he loosens his tie and unbuttons the top button of his shirt to free the necklace from its usual place. He knows that if he gives it much more consideration, he’ll talk himself out of it, so he pushes those thoughts to the back of his mind and slides the band onto his left ring finger.

There. He’s ready.

He takes a deep breath and opens the door to his room, intent on continuing his pacing in the living room if Scully isn’t ready to go yet.

“I’ll be ready in a minute,” he hears her call from the bathroom as his door creaks open. At a quick glance, he can see the back of an elegant dress he’s never seen before, black with a neckline that swoops down low in the back. She stands at the sink, fastening an earring in place, and it feels like junior prom all over again.

“Oh, I’m in deep trouble,” Mulder mutters to himself, rubbing his hands over his face. Forcing himself to turn away, he walks straight to the kitchen and fills up a glass of water, downing it in record time.

Not five minutes later, he hears her emerge, and he prepares himself for the sight of her.

Sure enough, it knocks the breath out of him, a fact which he makes every attempt to hide. He’s pretty sure she catches it, though, because the corner of her mouth quirks up and her eyes drift to the floor, as if she were somehow self-conscious about her appearance.

Impossible.

He’s suddenly very glad he opted for the tie, if this is what she's wearing to dinner. Although, it’s feeling a little tight, at the moment. 

“You, uh—” he starts, at a loss for words. His mouth is bone dry, despite the water he had just chugged a few minutes ago. “You—”

“Thanks,” she says, mercifully sparing him from further embarrassment. She tucks a gently curled tuft of hair behind her ear, drawing his attention to the careful way she’s arranged it. “I figured this might be my last chance to get properly dressed up for a while, so… It’s been… years, I suppose, since I’ve had the occasion to.”

This just confirms it. He’s been an idiot. Years of missed opportunities, chances he’s wasted. He could have been taking this gorgeous, magnificent woman out to fancy dinners all the time, if he’d just been able to pull himself together and see past the end of his own rather distinguished nose. 

If time travel is ever invented, he’s gonna use it to go back in time and kick his own—

“Mulder?” she says, smiling amusedly at him. He gets the sense that that’s not the first time she’s tried to get his attention, and he feels his cheeks warm. “I said, are you ready to go?”

“Yeah,” he chokes out, finding his voice at last. She reaches down to grab her purse, and he coughs to clear his throat. “Yeah, let’s go.”

She shakes her head at him in mock admonition, but happily accepts his proffered arm as they exit out the front door of the apartment. In the hall, he glances down, taking in the sight of her hands wrapped comfortably around his right bicep.

Her ring. She’s wearing it. He swears his heart might leap out of his chest at the thought. This might just be the thing that does him in. Put it on his death certificate. ‘Cause of death: the woman he loves is wearing his ring.’ What a way to go.

He doesn’t say anything—couldn’t, even if he wanted to—but he can tell that she saw him take notice. How could he not, with the way it sparkles on her finger, like it belongs there? He feels her hold loosen, and it stirs up a mild panic in his chest. She shouldn’t be embarrassed. Please, please don’t be embarrassed.

He lifts his hand to stop her from releasing him, running his thumb over the diamond inset on her finger. It’s okay, he’s saying. Look, I’m wearing mine too.

He sees the moment her eyes fix on his ring, as he rests his left hand over hers on his arm. She avoids his eyes, but he can tell she’s moved. She swallows back her emotion, and her hold on him tightens again, which sends a wave of relief through his body. 

“Come on, we’ll be late for our reservation,” he says, his voice low, just for her ears. 

She nods, and lets him lead the way.

-.-.-

His first mistake was thinking that he could get day-of reservations at one of the trendiest places in all of Washington, D.C. His second mistake was not considering that his straightforward request for a table that evening might somehow be misconstrued to mean that evening a year from now. 

It takes all his self restraint not to raise his voice at the host at the host stand, because really, why would he be asking for something like that? He’d like to give them a little lesson on the use of the English language, but he won’t, only because Scully is there and he doesn’t want to completely ruin the evening.

She’s there watching him as all this takes place, undoubtedly amused as he fights back frustration. After a moment, her hand lands on his arm, her typical method of pulling him back from the brink of a poor decision that she’s perfected over the years, and she shakes her head.

“It’s alright, Mulder,” she says. “We can just go somewhere else.”

Yeah, but where?

“Have a good evening,” the host says dismissively, and his tone is just a little bit too smug for Mulder’s taste. It reminds him of stuffy dinners with his father’s associates or interactions he had with the pompous law students at Oxford. Maybe they don’t want to eat here after all.

Scully feels him tense under her touch, and gently guides him out of the restaurant before he can respond. What would he do without her? He’d probably get beaten up a lot more often, that’s for sure. Or at least kicked out of places, like he would have been tonight.

She leads him outside, and soon enough, they’re standing on the sidewalk by the street, at a loss for what to do next.

“I’m sorry, Scully,” he says, mentally kicking himself for screwing this up so badly. “I just wanted to do something special, and now—”

“Mulder,” she stops him. “Seriously. It’s okay. I’m happy with wherever we decide to go tonight. This is about spending time together, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then let's go,” she says, grabbing his hand. “Come on, I have an idea.”

She holds tight to him as she leads them down the sidewalk, passing other couples on the street on this lovely spring evening. He has no idea where she could possibly be taking them, but she’s in a great mood, so he tries not to let the minor setback ruin his night. If she’s happy, then he’s happy.

The sun draws closer to the horizon, casting a golden glow on everything and everyone it touches. It makes her hair shine like fire, and once again he counts his blessings. It feels a little bit like the night of their wedding, and that thought brings a smile to his face.

They walk past several up-scale restaurants, and Scully doesn’t even spare them a glance. Wherever she’s taking them, she must know the way there. After a couple more blocks, she comes to a stop, standing out front of a greasy diner, maybe just a little nicer than the ones they frequent in small-town America. 

“Really?” he asks, looking dubiously up at the neon sign. “You sure you don’t want to go somewhere a little fancier, Scully? You got all dressed up.”

Her answering smile is resplendent in the glowing light.

“I want to eat here, Mulder,” she says, stepping toward the entrance. A bell above the door jingles as she pushes it open. “It seems fitting, doesn’t it?”

It does. A wave of nostalgia hits him like a truck when he realizes why she brought them here. Why a diner, of all places, would be the place she chooses for their ceremonial last meal, just the two of them. He can’t count how many formica tabletops just like this one they’ve shared a meal at, over the years. Hundreds of hamburgers with a side of fries, maybe a milkshake they end up splitting when Scully’s ice water loses its appeal. Ripped vinyl booths that Scully thoroughly wipes down with wet wipes she’d started keeping in her bag for that exact purpose.

“Well, don’t you two look nice?” a waitress in uniform says as she approaches their table. Her hair looks like the 80s have come back with a vengeance, all frizzy and permed, and she chews a wad of bubblegum aggressively, smelling like her last smoke break.

In short, it’s perfect.

“What’ll it be?” she asks.

Mulder orders for the both of them, knowing Scully’s usual order by heart. She smiles the way she always does when he remembers to ask for a lemon for her water, and he makes sure to tell the waitress to bring two straws for the milkshake instead of one.

When he looks across the booth at Scully, again, he imagines a little girl sitting next to her, coloring away on a kids menu with two, cheap, plasticky crayons that break in half if you look at them wrong.

It won’t be long, now. That will be their life. Mulder, party of three. Maybe Scully will start to carry a plastic baggy of the good crayons in her bag, for when they go to places like this. He’s absolutely certain she’ll at least double her use of wet wipes and sanitizer. He’ll become a chicken strip connoisseur, knowing all the best places in the city to get the child-favorite delicacy.

“To us,” Mulder toasts once their drinks arrive, lifting his chocolate milkshake in the air between them. “To… endings and new beginnings.”

“To endings and new beginnings,” Scully repeats, clinking her glass against his.

-.-.-

It’s past dark already, barely a hint of color lingering on the horizon, but that doesn’t stop them from prolonging the evening with a walk to the National Mall. The moon is bright, and the streets are lit up for tourists making the most of the warmer spring weather. It’s a pleasant walk. Scully feels drunk, despite the absence of alcohol with their dinner. She wonders if Mulder feels it too.

He guides her with his hand in its usual place, and she feels what can only be described as complete and utter contentment, as each brush of his fingers propels her gently forward. The street leads them straight to the reflecting pool on the National Mall, a favorite spot of theirs, not that they find the time to visit often enough. They’ve missed the cherry blossom blooms by only a couple weeks, but the sweet smell of them persists, unless it’s just her imagination.

Something about being with Mulder like this dials all her senses up to eleven. She has never experienced life like this before. Are the stars always so bright? Does the cool breeze always feel like silk on her skin?

Maybe it's his cologne that has her feeling tipsy. She selfishly hopes the scent of it will linger on her clothes and in her hair even after this night has come to its end.

The Mall is quiet and mostly empty at this hour. The Washington Monument looms in the distance, lit up brightly and casting its imposing reflection on the still waters of the reflecting pool. A family of ducks disturbs the glassy surface, sending ripples radiating outward as they paddle from one side to the other.

Mulder has this peaceful expression on his face, the corners of his mouth quirked upward ever so slightly. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he had never been here before, taking in all the sights for the first time. He watches the ducks for a moment, expelling a breath of laughter through his nose as a small duckling falls behind, then swims faster to catch up with the rest of the crew.

His hand drops from her back, but before she has a chance to mourn the loss, he entangles his fingers with hers, clasping their hands tightly together. She follows after him in a daze, her lips pulled back in a self-conscious sort of grin. She can’t help it. He makes her feel like a teenager, and… she doesn’t even know what this is, really, but she likes it. 

They circle the reflecting pool for a bit, wandering aimlessly at a lazy pace, reluctant to put an end to their time together. Eventually, they end up sitting on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, the gargantuan statue of the nation’s sixteenth president a silent sentinel behind them.

Scully leans her cheek against Mulder’s bicep. Despite her best efforts to keep them open, her eyes fall shut, her body succumbing to the serenity of their surroundings and the comfort of good company. He offers her his coat, draping it over her shoulders to combat the slight chill. It dwarfs her, the extra fabric at the hem pooling on the ground behind her.

“How about we come here on the weekends?” his voice rumbles, the first words spoken since they left the diner almost half an hour ago.

“Mm?” she hums in question.

He jostles her slightly with his arm, and she forces her eyes open again.

“You know, take the stroller for a spin around the pool,” he says, gesturing ahead of them. “Maybe stop into the Air and Space museum if we feel like it…”

She smiles. She can picture it so easily, the two of them experiencing the wonders of this city through the eyes of their child as she grows. Of course Mulder would want to go to the Air and Space Museum. It’s a wonder he hasn’t dragged her there before.

“Every weekend?” she asks doubtfully, her words slurring slightly.

He wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side as he chuckles.

“No, not every weekend,” he says, pressing a kiss to her hairline. “I’m sure some weekends we’ll want to sleep in. Maybe have a late breakfast and watch movies. I can make pancakes. Chocolate chip.”

“Children need to have healthy breakfasts, Mulder,” she says admonishingly. Something tells her it will be a constant battle to keep Mulder from spoiling their daughter with sugar and empty carbs. But if that’s the worst of their disagreements when it comes to co-parenting, she’ll happily accept the challenge.

He rolls his eyes. “Fine. Half blueberry, half chocolate chip,” he concedes. She decides to let it slide for now.

Above them, an airplane soars across the sky, lights blinking rhythmically as it passes overhead.

It’s funny. Before Mulder, she never looked twice at things like that. But now, she finds herself checking a second time, her gaze lingering a little longer, just in case it might be something other than an airplane.

What has this man done to her?

Mulder follows the direction of her stare, his chin tilting upward. Against the backdrop of stars, the perfectly normal, human-built aircraft flies out of sight. The hand on Scully’s shoulder drops to the ground, his palms resting against the stone steps as he reclines back a little.

“Thanks for hanging with me all these years, Scully,” he says softly, his eyes never wavering from the heavens. “I really couldn’t have done it without you.”

Her lips pull back in a smile. “We make a pretty good team, huh?” she says over her shoulder.

His lowers his gaze to meet hers. “I like to think so. You think that will translate to raising a kid?”

She has often wondered that exact thing, but for the life of her now, as she looks into his eyes, she can’t think of even one reason why she questioned it.

She leans back onto his shoulder, her eyes falling shut again.

“Only one way to find out,” she answers sleepily.

He sighs happily. “Any day now.”

-.-.-

What a day. What a night.

Mulder can’t sleep, lying stiffly on his back in bed with his hands clasped on top of his torso. All he can think about is how beautiful she looked in the blinding fluorescent light of the diner, with a bit of ketchup smeared on the corner of her mouth from when she stole one of his fries when she thought he wasn’t looking. How she held his hand, content just to walk in silence beside him in the shadow of some of the nation’s most revered monuments.

What a perfect way to put a cap on their time working on the X-Files together. He couldn’t have planned it better himself (clearly). Who needs expensive wine and stale classical music when you have bottomless milkshakes and a jukebox playing the greatest sock-hop hits of the 1950s?

It wasn’t a real date, he has to remind himself, but it sure was close to one. Usually a first date doesn’t end with both parties going home together, that’s one difference. Or, well, going home to the apartment that they both live in together, he should say. But tonight, as they returned home, they got ready for bed side-by-side at the sink, brushing their teeth and washing their faces, and it felt like they’d been doing this for years. There was no awkwardness there, just a wave of peace and stability he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel in his adult life.

If they ever move somewhere else—somewhere closer to Quantico, maybe—he’ll make sure the bathroom is equipped with a his-and-hers vanity. A sink for each of them, and plenty of counter space for all of Scully’s specialty serums and creams. It’ll be nice, he thinks.

When he finally falls asleep, it’s to visions of wraparound porches and matching rocking chairs, and maybe a nice playset in the backyard with a couple of kids running around. Now that’s a dream worth dreaming of.

-.-.-

This is ridiculous. She should just go back to bed, try one more time to actually fall asleep, get a few hours of rest at least. 

But she can’t sleep. Because Mulder had gone and put it in her head that everything is about to change, and it really could happen at any moment. Somehow, when she’s with him, she forgets every apprehension that plagues her, lured into a sense of security and assurance by some mystical power he possesses. Okay, maybe not a mystical power, but it is frightening how easily she casts aside her doubts when he’s within eyesight.

But then it all comes flooding back the moment she’s left to her own thoughts. It’s infuriating. She thought she was ready for it—for this massive life change—but she’s not. It terrifies her.

What if she can’t do it? What if she misses working in the Hoover building with him too much? What if she and Mulder have a disagreement about something trivial and it pulls them apart? What if he meets a nice woman at Quantico and wants out of this arrangement? What if it’s not enough for them to just be friends and raise this baby together? What if her feelings get the best of her, and she scares him away?

Or perhaps worst of all… What if they don’t get to go home with a baby at the end of all this? What if the mother decides to keep it? What then? Would they even have it in their hearts to try again? To wait a little longer, when there are drawers full of onesies and newborn diapers already in their home?

For weeks, the same nightmare has plagued her. Standing in a hospital hallway, their path blocked by people from the adoption agency telling them to turn around. Go home. You do not get a child.

She wakes feeling emptier than ever, and wishes for the millionth time that things could be easier.

There’s so much to think about, and she can’t take it anymore. She’s scared. And there’s only one person she likes to go to when she’s scared, and he’s sleeping peacefully right behind this door.

She sighs, leaning her head up against the door frame in exhaustion. She’ll just poke her head in for a moment. Remind herself that he’s there, and he’s not going anywhere. She repeats the words he’s said to her over and over in her head like a mantra, ways he’s reassured her in the past that he’s in this for the long-haul. But for some reason, they’re hard to recall in these moments of doubt. Maybe she’d misunderstood him. Maybe she’s remembering it wrong, applying more meaning to his words than he’d intended.

Her stomach tosses and turns uncomfortably with nerves. She’ll never be able to sleep like this.

As quietly as possible, she eases the door open, a sliver of light from the hallway piercing its way into his room. He looks warm and soft, the way his face lays slack against the pillow. He’s made himself at home here. His knick knacks line the shelves, unpacked from their boxes after the move and scattered about. As she steps carefully inside, she spots a photo of them that once sat on a shelf in their office. He must have moved it here recently, part of the slow transfer of their lives out of the basement of the Hoover building. She can’t help but notice that it sits beside him on his nightstand, right next to his glasses and whatever book he’s been reading lately.

She lets out a breath, allowing the comfort he unknowingly offers to dull her senses. Just a minute longer, then she’ll go back to her room and give sleeping another shot.

Or she would have, if he hadn’t started to stir, slowly waking from his peaceful slumber. It’s almost like he’d sensed her there, some kind of psychological link that told him when she was near, and in distress. She quickly turns back to the door, hand on the door handle to open it and make her exit before he truly notices her presence, when she hears her name spoken in a confused whisper.

“Scully?”

Her shoulders slump in defeat, and her hand falls away from the doorknob.

“Sorry,” she says, turning to face him sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He props himself up on an elbow, blearily rubbing sleep from his eyes with a fist.

“You okay?” he asks.

Her mouth drops open to reassure him that, yes, she’s fine, but she takes just a second too long to answer, and she knows he sees right through her. It’s not even worth lying to him.

“Come here,” he says, scooting over to make room on the bed beside him. “We can talk, if you want.”

She really shouldn’t, but his offer is tantalizing. She’s too vulnerable to be in this position, right now. Who knows what will slip from her mouth in her exhausted and overwhelmed state? Her feet carry her toward the bed anyway, and she slides into place under the covers, staring blankly up at the ceiling as he settles on his side facing her on his side of the bed.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks knowingly.

She shakes her head, her hair rustling on the pillow.

“Took me a while to get to sleep too,” he admits. “A lot to think about. A lot, a lot.”

At least she’s not alone in this problem, she guesses. She hates feeling like the insecure one in any situation, and that’s how she’s felt more often than not throughout this process so far.

“What’s keeping you up?” he asks, gently urging her to open up.

She tries to shrug, but she knows she’ll have to come up with an answer sooner or later. There’s no reason to hide this from him. Sometimes, he knows her better than she knows herself, and that can be a blessing and a curse.

“I’m going to miss working with you, Mulder,” she says honestly, her lips sealed tight to fight back the slight tremble in them. She can’t stop hearing her own words spoken by the reflecting pool a few years ago. ‘If I quit now, they win.’

She feels a hand land on her upper arm, stroking it comfortingly. Her eyes flutter shut. She can lie to herself all she wants, but this is why she really came in here. There’s a type of comfort only Mulder has ever been able to bestow, and she needs it now more than ever.

“We’ll still be in the same building,” he says appeasingly. “We can get lunch together every day, talk about our classes, complain about the new recruits.”

It’s silly, but his words do help. She imagines sitting across from him in his own private office—probably decorated a lot like their current office is—and munching on a salad while listening to him complain about an essay one of his students turned in. It sounds pleasant. Easy. Maybe he can come help decorate her office too. She’s gotten used to his clutter. She isn’t sure she’d be able to work in the sparsely furnished office space like she’s naturally inclined to.

“And besides– We’ll still see each other here,” he adds. “Every night. And the weekends.”

The thought sends a thrill through her. Sometimes it still feels like a dream, what they’re doing. Giving up the X-Files… that’s a tangible thing. But the baby? She’s still an abstract idea, despite the fact that physical reminders of their plans are scattered throughout her apartment. The picture he’d painted earlier of a relaxing day at home together feels out of reach—like a nice idea that isn’t really attainable. Is she that traumatized from all the disappointment in her life?

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” she asks, her mouth downturned in a frown. “I mean– I know you’ve said before that this is what you want, but I—”

“You’re gonna have to learn to trust me sometime, Scully,” Mulder says, a slight sadness in his voice.

She does. She does trust him—maybe even more than she trusts herself. That’s what the problem is.

“I do,” she says. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just…”

“Freaking out?” he finishes, smiling at her in amusement.

“Just a little,” she says, returning his smile.

He breathes in deeply, his face pensive like it always is when he's mulling over a difficult question.

“I think we’re ready,” he says, projecting confidence into his voice. “I think you’re going to be a rockstar mom, and we’ll wonder why we didn’t do this years ago.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

“But what if—”

He shakes his head, putting a stop to her words immediately. “You gotta stop that, Scully,” he says seriously. “This is going to work out.” His fingers find the dainty necklace she wears, his thumb brushing over the cross. “Have faith,” he implores.

She closes her eyes, letting out a breath, and with it, trying to release some of the fear that keeps her up at night. She wants to do what he asks, to let herself go, but it's not as easy as that. Sometimes she can't help but feel like they're trying to cheat destiny, to force things into going their way when they've been repeatedly told “no” at every turn.

His reassurance does help, though. Wasn't that why she'd come here in the first place? 

Mulder settles back, turning his attention back to the ceiling. 

“What did you think of the new agents?” she asks after a moment, changing the subject. It’s hard to believe that it was just this morning that they’d interviewed a few of them, hoping to find some trustworthy hands to leave their work to.

“Reyes seems sharp,” Mulder says. “I think her background in folklore and ritualistic abuse is a good starting point.”

“Mm,” Scully hums her agreement. “And what about Doggett? Too staunch of a skeptic for you?”

Mulder chuckles. “He comes highly recommended by the higher ups, so I don’t know,” he says. “It’s always good to have a variety of opinions around, though, don’t you think?”

She turns her head to the left, her eyes meeting his in the darkened room, lit only by what little moonlight comes through the blinds. 

“I think… we’ll be okay,” she says then, willing the words to be true as she speaks them. Her assertion brings a smile to his face, and he leans back on the pillow, focusing on the patterns on the ceiling like she had been a moment earlier.

“We will,” he agrees. “For once, I think we’ll be better than okay.”

~~~

Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]

@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @clo-thespin @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @gillian-anderson-in-the-tardis @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @msrafterdark @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear

#msr #txf #x files #xf fanfic #mulder and scully #my fanfiction #fox mulder #dana scully #of our own making #ooom #msr adoption fic #adoption

[arts-butthound]

Sense and Salarian Ability chapter 18 part 1

Find the whole of the chapter over on my AO3

Stay focused. Lau massaged his palms against the textured wheel.  He can see the overgrown path to where the garden used to be now. He almost grinned at old antics. Familiar faces pass by the windows as the car pulls up to the main house.  Windows like assessing eyes. Tegan, half sunk into her seat, keenly watched the passing forms of other Ropon members. Lau hoped few make a fuss about her being here. “Remember Tegan, best behavior. Speak when spoken to. Do as we practiced when one of your betters is around. Otherwise you are the picture of tranquility.”

“Is it okay that I’m still scared?”

Lau opened the car door. Smell the air of home. Hear its sounds. “Trust that you’re not the only one on edge. Take comfort in that.” He dearly wished her bag was in better condition. His feet hit the supple land, creeping groundcover plants melding with the dirt.

#mass effect #salarian #salarians #salarian oc #fanfiction #mass effect fanfiction #sense and salarian ability #mass effect salarians #fanfic #sasa #butthound writes #the writing gods were not with me on writing this one #taking forever and then some was not my plan #but this book is good at messing with my plans #the writing vibes! #they cursed and mocked me #but it's out! #writing is hard #I feel mostly confident about this!

[icewindandboringhorror]

Just curious what the average level of personal investment in these sorts of things is. Like, how much do people usually get into silly stuff like this their friends ask of them? etc. etc. Which I know, only surveying a small sample on a very specific website means I'm not getting an exact average idea lol, but.. curious nonetheless .. Maybe reblog for bigger sample size but also this is not very serious at all/not worth a call to action gbhjbhjb

#which I know this could be context dependent like.. maybe you'd normally dress up but on a week that #you feel sick you wouldn't or etc. etc. - but I mean.. GENERALLY. in the most general average scenario #where you have the average amount of health and free time that you always do. etc. just based on your personality #and level of investment in these things - what on AVERAGE are you most inclined to do #also of course assume they communicate with you ahead of time and are not like planning a part last minute #like 'throw together costume in 5 hours and show up tonight randomly' or etc. I would hope that if we're going with the #AVERAGE of things - most people's friends have better communication skills than springing entire parties #on people last minute lol #assume you have like.. a few days-a week or so to prepare. however ealrly people usually start talking about #birthdays. In my experience it's usually one or two weeks ahead of time. Like 'oh next weekend' or 'oh two weeks from now' etc. #ANYWAY.. feeling a little Sick again of course but still trying to get some photos or something posted #AGAIN i promise I am not going to exlcusively post polls and ntohing else forever hgkjgnekj #I just really really love the ability to post polls and have always my whole life been obsessed with surveying people #I used to think I wanted to do that as a career somehow like.. be one of the people that does psychological interviews #or produce interview asessments for a company or etc. etc. I am always the one friend in the group thats giving out custom made #surveys or asking for other simialr stuff (did you ever take an mbti quiz? how about enneagra #m?? oh yeah I know they're not really scientifically valid or antyhing but like... DID you take them?? huh?? did you??please?? ghjj) #I simply cannot resist.. posting a little poll every once in a while.. as a treat #whilst I still fall behind on like actual content and costumes and stuff gbjhbjh #New poll adventure should be not as much of a wait as the last one was though since I already have the writing #for it really. I just have to do the ms paint sketch. hopefully no unexpected other health issues will get in the way #*** *** *** #< (anytime I do these three star patterns it is an ocd compulsion not me bleeping out words or something just ignore it lol) #(it means something secret in my evil brain just pretend you do not see it. significant only to me) #BUT YEAH.. ... poll... what type of costume party atendee are you? #:0c