#then with the crumbs we got in the show he took over my life

[lockley-spktr]

I have so many thoughts about Jake Lockley, but no one to share them with.

#no one gets him like i do #i know people aren’t into him because we didn’t see him much on the show #but this man owned my heart before the show #then with the crumbs we got in the show he took over my life #i wish i was kidding #i love that fictional man #moon knight #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | end up here

a/n: i'm going FERALLLLLLL over this chapter. enjoy poisoned mercury's debut album hehe.

iv. end up here by 5sos

series masterlist | previous | next

“your band name doesn’t even make any sense,” you argued, eyes narrowing at the boy in front of you. 

luke crashed your secret spot, again, and refused to let you smoke in silence until you gave him a detailed explanation of how your day went. he knew you didn’t smoke every day, only on days that were particularly hard. he noticed that your bad days always had something to do with your dad, but it didn’t feel like the right moment to bring that up. 

anyway, you got fed up with his badgering and that stupid smirk on his face because he knew you were about to crack, and decided that if he was going to act like a toddler, you would too. hence, why you were now bringing up his band name. 

luke took offense to that because he thought the band name was cool. he was the one to suggest it. he crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to let his hurt show on his face, “what do you mean? poisoned mercury is a sick name.” 

“mercury is already poisonous. your band name is like redundant or some shit.” 

“then why did so many people in history ingest it?” luke asked, recalling the one thing he remembered from his high school history class before he dropped out. he took a drag from his cigarette, turning his body a bit so the wind didn’t blow the smoke directly in your face. 

“they fucking died, castellan,” you replied, deadpan. 

“oh,” he blinked, staring off, “i didn’t know that.” 

you rolled your eyes, a habit that you’ve picked up whenever you were with him and sat back down on the bench. luke joined you, silent as he thought about what you just said. he really needed to stop zoning out during lessons, but since he was already out of high school, he guessed it didn’t matter anymore. 

as much as you hate to admit it, luke castellan was growing on you. sure, he got on your nerves like nobody else– the boy just doesn’t quit– but, he wasn’t half as bad as you originally thought. not that you’d ever tell him that though. 

when you got back to the cabin last week after helping with concert prep, the cabin was spotless. there were no empty red bull cans in sight, the table tops were free of crumbs, floor vacuumed and mopped, and there was even a candle burning on the counter. you approached your bedroom door to find a post-it on the handle. luke’s messy writing was smudged around the corners, but you could still make out what it said. 

“five star, 

i snitched on the boys and my mom will have a stern talk with them about their cleanliness. can’t promise that people will stop talking about me, but i can promise you won’t have to live in the dojo casa house mojo or whatever it was. 

ps i’m using the spot tomorrow, just thought i should let you know. maybe we can set up a calendar for reservations. 

luke :)” 

the cabin hasn’t been as messy since. whatever may castellan told the boys worked like a charm. there was still the occasional trash, but nothing crazy. it smelled better in the cabin too, still like a boy, but it smelled like expensive cologne more than anything. cedarwood and pine. 

and thankfully, the luke castellan hype train was starting to run out of steam, with many people finally realizing that he was also just a human being and the surprising revelation that luke castellan was not entertaining anyone during his time at camp helped with it as well. you still heard whispers about him here and there, but you were glad the topic of conversation was beginning to switch to something else. 

you and luke walked to the gym and back home every morning together. he and the boys sat with you and clarisse during meals. they tagged along for music lessons and spoke to the kids, which they really appreciated. they helped the older campers with writing music, luke particularly. you’d been around a few musicians in your life and many of them only kissed ass when your dad was around, but poisoned mercury was different. they were passionate about their music. that was clear.

after a conversation with clarisse, where she managed to convince you that not all musicians are like your ex, you began to let loose a little bit. you hung out with the boys more, partly as an excuse so clarisse could hang out with chris without causing too much suspicion, and found that you actually enjoyed their company. and luke castellan? well, he wasn’t half bad. that doesn’t mean he got off easy though. 

you took a hit of your vape, facing him, “are you done interrogating me?” 

“for now, yeah,” he smiled as you shook your head. “are you coming to the concert tonight?” 

“well, i did help organize it.” 

“a simple yes would’ve sufficed, five star,” luke teased, relighting his cigarette. it was burning unevenly and luke was never one to waste his cigarettes. “you gonna watch us play?” 

“don’t have a choice. dad wants me there the whole time.” 

“you can act a little excited,” luke ran a hand through his curls, “we are pretty good, you know.” 

“i know,” you hummed. the sun was beginning to set and there was a slight breeze in the air. goosebumps formed on your skin, the t-shirt and denim shorts you wore didn’t offer much comfort. you shivered, “i have listened to your music.” 

“are you cold?” 

your teeth chattered, but you shook your head, “i’m fine.” 

luke took off his hoodie, tossing it in your direction, “take it.” 

“no,” you tossed it back to him, “told you i’m good.”

always so stubborn, luke thought.  

“if you catch a cold, that’s not on me,” he placed the hoodie on the bench between the two of you. “which songs have you listened to?” 

“kilby girl, of course. it played on the radio so much when you guys first dropped it,” you said, remembering the days where you and your hometown friends would blast it in the car. it reminded you of high school, reckless decisions, life-long memories, and the thrill of knowing you were going to be playing the sport you’d worked so hard to excel in at a d1 level in the fall. you looked at him, sincerity in your eyes, “i really like family line. it might be my favorite.” 

luke’s eyebrows shot up. not many people talked about family line. it was probably their least streamed song. they never performed the song on tour because it was difficult for luke to sing it. it was a personal song to him. it was inspired by his relationship with his father, or lack thereof. 

when poisoned mercury first got signed to olympus records, luke sent a message to his dad on facebook. luke hadn’t tried to contact him since he was ten, not since his father returned his letter to him unopened, no response but a “return to sender” stamp plastered over the envelope. but after the small congratulatory party his mom set up for the band after they signed, luke felt like a little kid again, a kid who wanted to share the great news with his dad, so he found his dad on facebook, made an account, and sent him a message. 

he didn’t get a reply, which was expected, but it felt good for a second to pretend that he had a father to tell his good news to. luke thought he didn’t care about whether or not his dad was proud of him, but when his message went from “sent” to “read” a few days later, he was brought back to those moments in his life when he cried and wondered why he wasn’t enough to make his dad stay. he wrote family line in one sitting, on his bed in his bedroom in connecticut, looking at the little league medals on his wall that seemed to mock him. 

he originally didn’t want it on the album because he felt like it didn’t fit the vibe of the rest of the songs and that it was too real, too vulnerable for a debut album, but then he played it for his mom and she loved it. she cried when she first heard it and luke knew that even if people didn’t like the song, he was going to put it out for his mom. 

“huh,” he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, “wasn’t expecting that one. thought you’d be more of a crash my car type of girl.” 

“i like that too,” you shrugged, “but family line. that song. i don’t think i have the words to describe it.” 

“thanks, five star,” luke looked down at his feet, taking a puff from his dying cigarette. “that’s my mom’s favorite, too.” 

“did you write it?” 

luke nodded, looking to face you. there was a new expression on your face, one that you’d never used with him before. it was a mix of disbelief and awe. he tried not to get offended that you didn’t think he could write something like family line, but he couldn’t blame you. he didn’t really portray the type of person who would be able to be that raw and vulnerable on a song. “me and trav write the lyrics for our songs, mostly. chris and connor help too, but the bulk of the lyrics are me.” 

“you need to stop doing that.”

he cocked his head to the side, crushing the cigarette butt on the hardware of the bench, “doing what?” 

“surprising me,” you shook your head, “i don’t like it.” 

“i don’t know what to tell you,” he chuckled, leaning back on the bench. he looked out into the lake, watching the sun disappear behind the mountains, “i have layers. you just gotta give me a chance.” 

“how do you do it?” you sat criss cross on the bench, leaning against the arm rest. “how do you write like that?” 

you’d always been curious about music, even if you weren’t good at it. your dad was never one to answer your questions, especially because you were interested in lyrics more than anything, and that wasn’t his forte. 

luke mimicked your actions, “i dunno. personal experience, i guess?”

you frowned, thinking about the lyrics of family line. luke never talked about his dad, but spoke highly of his mom. was family line based on his own life? if it was, his dad was an asshole. 

you relented to the cold, grabbing the hoodie that he left in between the two of you. you ignored the triumphant smile on his face when you draped the sweater over your bare legs, shielding them from the wind chills. 

he continued, “sometimes things happen to me that get me worked up and i have to write a song about it. sometimes, it’s based on my imagination. it depends.”

you wanted to ask him about his dad, but you didn’t know if he considered you guys friends yet. it’s not like you made it easy for him anyway. you could deal with the banters and annoyance, but you didn’t want to push him to talk about something he wasn’t ready to. you could be a dick, but you weren’t cruel. 

you changed the subject, “okay, let’s play a game.” 

“21 questions?” luke bit his bottom lip, trying not to laugh. he waggled his eyebrows, dodging your arm that reached out to smack him. 

“you’re gross,” you gagged, knowing the implications of the game, “no, i’m gonna ask about the songs on your album and you tell me if it’s real life or from your imagination.” 

“alright, go for it five star,” he beamed, propping his elbows on his crossed knees. he loved talking about music with anyone. he could go on and on for hours. 

“18.” 

“real,” luke snorted, remembering the first time travis pitched the idea for the song to the band, “but not my experience. it was trav. he met this girl at one of our gigs in new york, right after we got signed, and he was obsessed. she was a freshman at nyu and she kept telling him he was too young for her, even though she was just less than a year older. trav was hooked.” 

you could picture it. it was definitely something travis would do. “okay, another one of my favorites. only angel?” 

“not real,” luke shook his head, a slight blush creeping up on his face. “if you tell anyone, five star, i will vehemently deny it, but i had a crush on jade west from victorious and i wrote it about her.” 

there was something about jade west that made luke like a love-sick puppy. ignoring the fact that she was hot, her attitude was something that luke was attracted to. she had a tough exterior and acted like she didn’t care about people, but she had her moments where she was soft and kind to the people she cared about the most. luke liked that. the idea that someone could be sensitive but only to the people they deemed worthy. 

he’d spent so much of his life trying to be worthy, in whatever way the stage of his life defined it, and he craved it– a pat on the back, an approval, a confirmation that he was worthy of it. 

you threw your head back laughing, surprised by his ridiculous confession. the sound of your laughter rang across the woods, making luke smile. your voice echoed throughout the trees and he his senses were surrounded by you. it hit luke like a truck. 

he sucked in a breath, taking out his phone. he jolted from his seat for more than one reason. “shit, five star. we gotta go.” 

you took out your phone too, checking the time. your eyes widened as you got up from your seat. you threw his hoodie over to him, “fuck, we’re late.” 

the two of you raced out of the woods, arriving to the concert venue with flushed faces and rapid breaths. you could feel clarisse’s knowing eyes on you as you got ready for the concert. you tried your best to ignore it. you were going to deal with that later. 

–

“and for the final event, i know you guys are looking forward to this one,” your dad laughed into the mic. the sun was long gone and there were disco lights illuminating the stage. a smoke machine was on either corner, making it difficult to see the bottom half of the stage. you and clarisse stood in the front row, listening to the deafening cheers of the campers. “ladies and gents, welcome poisoned mercury!” 

the screams got louder which you didn’t even know was possible. travis entered the stage first, sticking his tongue out as he expertly twirled his drumsticks around his fingers. connor came in next, smiling and waving at the crowd as he plugged his guitar into the amp. chris walked in with his bass strapped around his neck, eyes immediately finding clarisse and sending her a shy smile. you nudged her teasingly, enjoying the way she blushed under the lights. 

then luke castellan walked in. he ditched his hoodie and t-shirt and walked in with a white tank top on, messing with the curls on his head. he tugged on the silver necklace around his neck as his eyes scanned the crowd. he threw a wink to the group of the older girls in the back, turning to travis to let out a laugh at their reaction. the lights on the boys were blinding and a thin layer of sweat already began to form on their skin despite the bite to the air. 

luke took center stage, picking up his guitar. he leaned over directly in front of you, fingers pretending to mess with the wires connecting his guitar to the speakers, “hey, five star.” 

he straightened his back before you could reply. clarisse’s eyes darted between you and the boy, now nudging you like you did to her earlier. you rolled your eyes, smiling at the rest of the boys as luke began talking on the mic. 

“what’s up, camp half blood?” luke screamed into the mic. the crowd roared. “we’re poisoned mercury and we are so happy to be with you guys here this summer. before we close out this awesome concert, i wanna introduce our lovely band.” 

“on drums, we have the one and only, travis stoll!” luke turned around to applaud travis as he did a little drum solo, head banging as he hit the drums. he turned to connor, “on lead guitar, we have the amazing connor stoll!” 

connor strummed his guitar, leaning over on the left side to soak in the applause of the crowd. the girls beside you swooned as he unleashed one of his award-winning smiles. 

luke faced chris, “and on bass, we have my very best friend in the entire world, my 4lifer, chris rodriguez!” clarisse cheered loudly for chris as he played a tune on his bass, mouthing, “love you, brother,” to luke as he played. the crowd quited for a second as luke addressed them again, “and my name is luke castellan. we’re poisoned mercury!” 

you turned around to look at the crowd. the size of the crowd tripled when the boys got on stage. everyone had a smile on their face, excited to hear them play. 

“the song we’ll be singing for you guys today is from our debut album,” luke adjusted his mic on the stand. he got closer to it, lips touching the metal, “this is only angel.” 

you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at their song choice. this was not the song they were supposed to sing. they’d been rehearsing kilby girl for the past week. luke saw your reaction, laughing along with you. 

the instrumentals began and you nearly missed the beat drop because of the cheers from the crowd. as the song progressed, the boys were one with the music. you watched luke sing, working the crowd like a pro. his skin glistened under the spotlight, beads of sweat tricking down the side of his face. he approached chris when the chorus started, dragging his mic stand with him. he swung his guitar around so it rested on his back as he sang the lyrics. his curls were sticking to his forehead, eyebrows raised in glee as he performed. 

you couldn’t take your eyes off the lead singer, not even when the rest of the band had their own solos in the song. your eyes were glued on luke; how his adam’s apple was on full display as he threw his head back, getting lost in the music, how his arms flexed as he wrapped the mic cord around his fist, how his thin tank top stuck to his body and how it raised when he lifted his arm up to bring the mic closer to his lips. you saw the outline of his abdomen and his v-line. 

but what really got you was his face. he looked at peace on stage, a wide smile on his face, full lips pink and glossy as he licked them in between verses. he looked incredible up there, like that was where he belonged. he was born to be on stage like this. 

“fuck,” you mumbled, applauding at the end of their song. luke’s eyes found yours as he sang the last bit of the song, smiling at you. you hoped clarisse couldn’t hear you talk to yourself. you looked down at your feet, tugging nervously on the collar of your shirt, “i get it now.”

#frances writes #poisoned mercury #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke pjo #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson

[danikamariewrites]

hey, hi, hello! 💜

it’s your new bestie, aka your feysand anon. once again you did an excellent job by my request. the part of the feysand x reader headcannon where reader goes to the hewn city for the first time was amazing, but since i got a taste of it, i’m wanting more. i would absolutely love a fic based off that. i just know that you would leave absolutely no crumbs. maybe have it ending in just little bit of smut at the end?

whatever you do with it will be amazing, like you. thank you & i hope you have an fabulous day!

Hewn City

Feysand x reader

A/n: AAAHHH THANK YOU BESTIE! I hope you like it and I hope YOU have a fabulous day 💜 also u need to dm me so we can talk more about Feysand ☺️

Warnings: kier being a douchebag

Sitting in front of your vanity Feyre and Mor were putting the finishing touches on your hair and makeup. This was your first visit to the Hewn City as Rhys and Feyre’s partner. You were nervous, but you knew nothing bad would happen to you.

You didn’t particularly want to meet Mor’s father, Kier. Rhys and Feyre told you what happened centuries ago. All you felt was rage toward the male that made your best friends life a living hell.

“All done!” Mor said in a sing-song voice. Feyre kisses your temple, “You look beautiful sweetheart.” Your blush was hidden by the pinkish glitter Mor had brushed on your cheeks moments ago.

You stood to give your outfit one more look over before heading downstairs. Mor winked at you through the full body mirror and left. Feyre came up behind you, snaking her hands in front of you to hold yours, resting her chin on your shoulder.

Your dress was a deep violet that it was almost black. The fabric shimmered with your movements. The high slits on both sides showing off your legs, the top only covering your breasts and wrapping around your neck. It was like you were the night sky Rhys ruled and Feyre shined in. Without you there is no them, they had said.

Your tattooed hand played with the fabric. You had a whole sleeve on your left arm to match their tattoos. Its dark swirls like theirs with stars to fill in the open spots.

A knock on the door has you and Feyre turning. Rhys had a bright smile on his face, his eyes twinkling with love for his favorite girls. “Wow. Just wow. You look stunning, both of you.” As he padded over to you two Rhys opened his arms and embraced you.

Pulling away he cupped your face looking down at you. “How are you feeling?” You swallow audibly. “Nervous. But I’ll be ok. You guys will be there, I know you’ll keep me safe.” Feyre placed a hand on your lower back, “Always, love.”

A little while later you were standing outside the throne room with them. Mor, Amren, Azriel, and Cassian already waiting on the dais. Your nerves acting up as you twisted at the silver rings on your fingers. Rhys stroked a finger down your spine to calm you, whispering in your mind, “What’s wrong love? Don’t be afraid to tell me.”

Keeping your eyes forward you respond, “I guess I’m just nervous about all of it. About the mask you and Fey will wear, the one I will wear.” “We’ll be in here the whole time reassuring you love. Don’t worry.” You nod at that, shaking out your arms and taking a deep breath.

The three of you walk past the kneeling crowd on to the dais. You stand between their thrones as the High Lord and Lady take their seats. Rhys gives you a wicked grin and motions for you to sit on his lap. Once your seated he scans his subjects, commanding them to rise.

Dinner started and Mor brought you all glasses of wine. You took a long swig to help with your lingering nerves. Feyre reached out her free hand to hold yours, rubbing her thumb over the back of your hand. You and Rhys smirked at each other and he began to kiss your neck.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you softly moaned at the feeling of his lips. “How are you feeling?” “Better now that your both touching me.” A feline smirk played on Feyre’s lips. “Tell us if you’re too uncomfortable. Az can take you home if you don’t want to stay.”

Opening your eyes you see Kier approaching the dais and tense up. Seeing the male in person you realized how pathetic he truly is. The three of you turn your attention to him. “It’s alright darling just stay calm, as you were before.” Rhys said softly. “He’s useless. Don’t let anything he says get to you. Bite back and keep your face bored.” Feyre adds.

As Kier aired his grievances to Rhys, he and Feyre continued their soothing touches. They knew they had to listen to Kier. But that didn’t stop them from looking bored or that he was an inconvenience. Once Kier had moved on to petty topics of things that would only benefit him Rhys cut him off and dismissed him.

Kier bowed but decided to show off his attitude loudly, giving Rhys a glare you should never give a High Lord if you wanted to keep your head. “One whore wasn’t so now you have one to share?” Half of the room fell silent at Kier’s comment.

You found Mor, Cassian, and Azriel close by. She was fuming and the Illyrians looked like they were about to attack Kier.

Rhys tapped your leg and you stood. Feyre stood too, pulling you into her, keeping a hand on the small of your back. It was clear the two were seeing red at Kier’s comment. You tried to take their advice and keep your face as bored as possible, but you couldn’t help but be a little hurt by his comment.

Rhys menacingly stepped toward Kier, coming toe-to-toe with him. Rhys towered over him, making Kier look even more pathetic than he already was. Kier tried to apologize quickly but Rhys held up a finger silencing him.

All you could do was watch. Rhys didn’t hurt Kier physically or verbally. No, you and Feyre could tell he delved into Kier’s mind and was mentally messing with him. When Rhys was finished punishing him, Kier’s eyes were wide. Sweat was beading on his forehead and his skin was a sickly pale shade. “You are dismissed for the rest of the evening.”

Kier walked off, heading toward the door that leads to his living quarters. The party resumed once the door was shut. The three of you went back to the thrones. You went back to your spot on Rhys’ lap, smiling at the two of them. “Are you ok?” Feyre asked. You nod and rest your head on Rhys’ shoulder and nip at his neck.

tags: @nyotamalfoy @auggiesolovey @bubybubsters @baybay123455 @msiecrane @aroseinvelaris @twsssmlmaa

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader imagine #acotar reader fic #acotar imagine #feysand #feysand x reader #rhysand x reader imagine #rhysand x reader #rhysand x you #rhysand acotar #feyre x you #high lady feyre #feyre archeron #feyre acotar #feyre x reader

[1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt]

Early Jim Kirk: Why So Serious?

To the people who said that Paul Wesley's Captain Kirk was "too serious" or that it "wasn't our Jim Kirk":

Let's have a kiki, shall we? :)

A lot of folks seem to forget who Jim used to be before meeting him in TOS.

In an interview, Paul Wesley discussed how different Jim's early character and life was from TOS Kirk. Wesley's study of Jim and his early characterisation was in fact based on TOS descriptions and relevant lore surrounding it. I was not at all phased by the Jim we saw, as early Jim is described as quite a departure from our flirty, confident TOS Jim. Wesley did his homework.

From the chat that Kirk has with Gary Mitchell in TOS (Where No Man Has Gone Before 01x03) and Bones in Shore Leave (01x15) re: Finnegan, we learned in Jim's younger years, Kirk didn't always have that swagger. In fact, Jim used to be a rather serious nerd.

Kirk in the academy was described as "a stack of books with legs", "positively grim", and "watch out for Lieutenant Kirk. In his class, you either think or sink".

He also adhered to Starfleet rules far more in his early years a la Boimler. For example, he reported an error that older officer and very good friend of his Benjamin Finney made on the USS Republic, leading to Finney's demotion and later the events of Court Martial (01x20). He reported one of his own besties to HQ and got him demoted. Quite a departure from how often Kirk violates Starfleet orders and directives for Spock on TOS. Again, he is not the same Jim. Character growth.

I think folks get so wrapped up in Spock being the thinking guy and Kirk being the action guy that they forget: You kind of have to be a brilliant genius and thinker to even get a starship command, let alone the flagship. Jim is not dumb and never was; he is exceptionally smart. Spock is just a freaking GIGA GENIUS and anyone standing next to that might look less bright in contrast. But make no mistake, Jim is also brilliant as a military man and diplomat.

Jim is often stereotyped as a swaggering meathead when he is actually an intelligent and capable diplomat even from his earliest years with Starfleet. As a cadet, he was decorated by Starfleet with the Palm Leaf for his peace mission work on Axanar (Court Martial 01x20). As a Captain, Jim helped to complete just as many successful federation member recruitments as he did take names and kick ass.

Jim loves chess. He loves his dad's old books and classic literature. He memorizes quotes from those texts and references them constantly in TOS. How many jocks do you know out here memorizing classic literature to reference even now in our time? One of Jim's most precious, prized possessions is an old text copy of "A Tale of Two Cities" he got as a gift for his birthday from Spock.

There are still those glimpses of old Jim planted throughout TOS and the movies.

As you examine him and his past, every description of him as a young man in the original series was that he was a nerd. Kirk, as a character, shows how much we change as people from high school/uni to adulthood.

The early Jim Kirk is not the Kirk we knew and loved, and he often comes as a surprise to folks accustomed to the Jim he later becomes. He grows into his own over time and finds himself, like many of us. But Wesley's portrayal seemed surprisingly apt to me, considering early descriptions of James T. Kirk's character.

TLDR: Jim Kirk was described in his early years as "serious", "positively grim", "a stack of books with legs", top of his class, and would report you to HQ for a crumb. This is not the Captain Kirk you knew who took command of the Enterprise in 2265. Jim Kirk used to be a serious, passionate Starfleet nerd.

All in all, I thought Paul Wesley's character study with all this considered was

Anyway, thanks for coming to my Ted X Talk about baby James Tiberius Kirk.

I'd love to hear from you folks, feel free to chip in, add to this or correct any errors. :) LLAP.🖖

EDIT: See Part 2 of this Jim Kirk SNW AU Analysis where I respond to an ask from @letteredlettered​; we get into the importance of the Triumvirate for Kirk Prime, as well as the relevance of why Jim Kirk being assigned the Farragut would be a poor choice of command commission for him. It further solidifies that this is not “our Kirk”, but an AU where we see what would come of our Kirk if he did not get the flagship commission or meet his boays to form the Trek Trinity. 

#thats my BOAY #my nerdy stoic boy who used to carry around textbooks in starfleets halls #and used to get the shit bullied out of him by Finnegan #scaring other cadets when they saw him in their classlist knowing he was going to be a pain in the ass #THATS OUR JIM #star trek #kirk #meta #1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt #tos #snw #star trek tos #star trek snw #star trek the original series #star trek strange new worlds #william shatner #paul wesley #jim kirk #james t kirk #captain kirk #cadet kirk #lieutenant kirk #I need to get my PHD in James T Kirk #oc #octrek #octrekmeta #st:tos #st: snw

[bettyfrommars]

Squirrel (a Gutterballs story)

Eddie Munson x betty!Reader

A jump from modern day to the early 1990's when we meet a young, aspiring rockstar Eddie Munson at the heart of the Seattle grunge scene. I had the huge honor of being included in the Tattoo Cover-up Valentine's Day Special episode of Gutterballs by @dr-aculaaa and I'm still emotional about it, to be honest. This wee contribution is dedicated to Drac, as well as all of the Gutterballs friends I'm proud to know because of this fandom (coming for you, Daria.)

word count: 1.4k

18+, smoking weed, the term 'bitches' used affectionally, mention of heartbreak, allusions to mental illness, a supposed one-night stand that became more, mention of addiction, that one friend who can find anyone online, hurt/comfort. Reader (Betty) has a good friend named Shelby, which is actually my cat in real life.

------

You picked at the label of your beer, waiting impatiently for your friend to pull up something on her laptop.

It was the recent episode of Gutterballs that had spurred your Sherlock Holmes friend into action. You said something in passing about how it’d be impossible to find the rest of Eddie Munson’s lost loves that were mentioned on the infamous podcast, and then she’d lost sleep wanting to prove you wrong.  

“So. Here’s Abi and Chelsea,” Shelby motioned for you to come and look over her shoulder. She clicked on search tabs one at a time, including one for Ashley, causing a melancholy smile to quiver at the side of your mouth.  “Pretty,” you nodded. “Eddie always knew how to pick ‘em.”

“This one looks dangerous,” she pointed to Jo, adjusting her glasses. “They all seem totally cool, actually.” 

You scanned the various results from her internet sleuthing.  “Which one is that?”

“Oh, that’s Meg,” Shelby clicked on a social media profile, and then pulled up a video of a chef with purple hair preparing something on the morning show.

“Fuckin, Meg,” you said under your breath in your best Eddie voice.  

“Doesn’t she own that restaurant in Chicago we couldn’t afford to go to?” Shelby pinched her joint from the ashtray and took a drag, enlarging photos from their menu, concentrating.  “I wonder if they accept Groupon.”

You stealthily followed Abby on social media from your private account and planned to buy some of her watercolor paintings.  Funny enough, you already knew Emily. The two of you had been part of a mutual friend group for years, and so when Eddie mentioned them being a bitch you had to snort a laugh because…yeah.    

“Nice work, Columbo,” you patted Shelby’s shoulder.  “You found all of them in under 24 hours. I shall make you a commemorative plaque out of dry macaroni.”

Checking her phone, your sleuth friend mumbled to herself as she went down a rabbit hole of social media comments.

“Not all,” she slipped her bottom lip through her teeth a few times.  “Took me a while to find Rose, they go by a different name on social media.  The drawings they do are badass, and they like that same actor you do, the one with the Minecraft head.”

“So, I’m the only one out of all of them who didn’t do anything with my life? Nice.”

“Hey,” she said in mock scorn.  “I bet none of these bitches can say they’ve had absolutely every career that’s ever existed. It takes a special kind of ingenuity to change jobs every 6 months. Plus, you wrote and published a whole-ass novel.”

“It only sold 37 copies,” you muttered. “Ten of which were to you and mom.”

You held your breath after that, watching the screen, waiting for the one name you hadn’t been able to connect a face to yet, but instead, Shelby slumped on the barstool with a defeated sigh.  “Daria might be the one that got away.  Haven’t found even a crumb for who or where they might be.”

“Damn,” you said softly.   …where are you, Strigoi? 

“How does Eddie even pull partners this hot?” Shelby asked, turning to dig for her Visine.  “Wasn’t he the one who bragged about being able to burp the alphabet?”

Laughter bubbled in your throat at the memory; the type of laugh that immediately made tears burst from your eyes. You wiped your face in a way that was more of a slap and turned to stare at the gloom settling into the pines outside the window. 

“He has a way about him I suppose.”

“I think you should call him,” she blurted, offering you a hit off the purple kush, but you waved her off. “If only to figure out the Daria mystery.”

“Oh yeah? Just call him? Just like that? Oh, hey Eddie I know it’s been almost three decades, but what’s new?”

“I mean, sounds legit to me.”

Remember those rainy days, Squirrel? Remember…

You tossed and turned early the next morning, reaching for your phone to scroll and help push away intrusive thoughts.  How many things you’d fucked up, how many friends you’d lost to time and death and sloppy choices.

Maybe not all was lost…

Seattle, early 1990’s

“My lady is here with us tonight,” Eddie rumbled into the mic, gesturing to you from where he stood on that rickety old stage in front of a rowdy crowd at The Crocodile Cafe. Alice in Chains had played there, as well as Mother Love Bone and Mudhoney, back before they were household names. “This next one's for her.”

From your seat at the bar, you locked eyes with him, beaming with pride, but also shaking your head. “I hate you,” mouthing the words made his dimpled grin grow wider.

“Betty Spaghetti…. My beautiful Aquarius twin.”

The ink on your matching Aquarius glyph tattoos were still covered in Aquaphor that night.  You’d spent the past two weeks trying to figure out how this chatty Indiana boy had managed to become a permanent fixture in your life. 

“I don’t want anything serious,” you’d said into his mouth while your hands were all over each other in the dive bar bathroom the first time you met. Bonding over booze, blow, and the shared trauma of losing a parent, you recognized that emptiness mirrored in each other and wanted to fill it.  

“Cool, neither do I,” he mumbled, shoving his jeans down his hips.  

But he’d been lying through his teeth, and he confessed that to you a month later down on the wharf, handing over a little squirrel made of shells from the pocket of his leather jacket. He’d been sneaky and bought it at Ye Olde Curiosity Shop, a place the two of you liked to go to visit the mummified remains of a dude named Sylvester. 

There was no major foundation for giving him the nickname Squirrel, one day it just happened.  He was on the couch in his boxers, stoned out of his gourd, shoveling pretzels into his mouth at such a manic rate that his cheeks looked like they were about to burst.  

“So, you knew I was the one back then? In a dark bar after 8 shots?” 

He looped his arm with yours as you walked. “Uh-huh, still do,” he leaned in closer. “Still do.”

At that moment, during those days, you worried that you wouldn’t be able to breathe without him. You were both so young, too young to fully comprehend the impact of that time in your life in later years, or what a trauma bond even was.

But then the day came that you’d come to realize would always arrive for you eventually, and that was the time to move on: to other experiences, other people. 

You didn’t know at the time that it could be done any other way, and so you made a real mess of things. 

He made several attempts to get in touch with you, including the time years later when he found out from your mom that you were in rehab.  He wrote to you, but you never wrote back, never returned his calls.  

He wasn’t trying to stir up the old flames or get back together; by then, that ship had sailed, and the Eddie Munson you knew never stayed single for long.  But he did want you to know that you weren’t alone, that you would always have a friend in him. That he’d meant it when he said he’d always care about you.

Returning to the current reality, you chewed at your thumbnail, staring at the phone number Shelby had written down for you on a yellow legal pad.  How she’d managed to get a hold of Eddie Munson’s private cell number, you’d never know.  

You were about to end the call after the second ring, flustered, thinking it would be better to send a text, when just then—- he answered. 

Eddie recognized the area code, but never thought in a million years that it would be…

“H-hey Squirrel, it’s me.”

Dead silence made your heart flop.  Maybe you should say it’s a wrong number, maybe this was a mistake.  What if he considered you a lost love, but he no longer wanted anything to do with you? He did cover up the tattoo, after all.  

“Well, well, if it isn’t my Betty Fuckin’ Spaghetti,” you could hear the joy in his voice, could hear his wide smile cracking into seasoned laugh lines.  “I’ve missed the shit outta you.” 

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fanfic #Gutterballs

[theseasasleep]

Story of Kunning Palace E03 (semi-live reaction)

So, it's our heroine's fate to always be crushed on by the spoiled Princess? LOL

There's no way a young woman who climbed all the way to Empress can avoid most of the path to that fate. In most of the webnovels of this type I've read, reaching that type of pinnacle means you have a fate with it, regardless of the ultimate outcome. The best Xue Ning can do is flip the script on circumstances while doing her best to skirt around the thornier aspects of future events.

1st Life: the Princess thinks back to her first encounter with Xue Ning with humiliation, embarrassment and rage

2nd Life: the Princess will think back on their first encounter with pride, happiness and warmth

So far so good. Although I totally get why she'd want to avoid tangling with a temperamental royal who she had a terrible experience with.

...

I really like how this show is shot. Sometimes you never know with cdramas if you'll get a cheap or pedestrian directing style or a dramatic and/or compelling one.

...

The show is still building its foundations and I'm just so eager to jump into the action!

*fight sequence starts 1 minute later* AND HERE WE GO!

Dude is more pissed off by the damaged qin strings than the assassination attempt! HA!

Xue Ning, as hostage: *minimize connections to minimize involvement* Mr. Hostage-taker, sir, I know Xie Wei only through the grapevine...

Xie Wei: MISS XUE NING, PLEASE DON'T SELL OUR CONNECTION SO SHORT! YOUR FATHER AND I ARE GREAT FRIENDS! IN FACT, YOU ARE MY LIFE SAVIOR!

Xue Ning:

...

Take me instead.

Mmm. Something about the silky oomph with which he said that line combined with his expression... Okay, okay, Zhang Ling He. It took three episodes but you got me: the character of Xie Wei is now officially attractive to me. All he had to do was low key deliver a line that just vibrates with high key threat.

Man, what era are my hormones in? Between finding my mojo over one ML threatening to tear an offensive man's tongue out and fixing my posture when this one is nothing but velvet menace, I need a name for it. I need to know. Should I be worried? Scared? Aroused?

oh. oh. he's so sexy... okay, now you're just showing off; put the murderous sexiness away

Not this man calling her out, leaving her neither a fissure to hide in or a crumb for modesty!

I... I can't wait until he's incandescently in love with her because I just know, I just know it will be so magnificent I won't know what to do with myself.

Girl, while you are absolutely right to defend your current relationship with Yan Lin and right to say it is a flirtation that is undeserving of such rude scrutiny... you (and us) know that man speaks no lies. You are trifling with Yan Lin and you would have done him plenty of harm without the benefit of literal 20/20 hindsight.

That being said, I see @dangermousie point: kicking off a relationship trying to gin up, stoke and maintain fear in the other party is an excellent way to receive future comeuppance in the form of watching the woman you desperately love side-eye you as she lavishes protection and support on her other suitors.

...

I like Yan Lin. Not too sorry to say that. Hopefully Life No. 2 keeps him off the rapist track.

It's nice seeing Xue Ning enjoying festivities. The impression I have of her first life self is that while she reveled in being "wild", she likely didn't really allow herself to enjoy being young and with friends, too busy being hungry.

Dear. God. That seamless transition from earnest Yan Lin in Life No. 2 waxing poetic about his first impressions of Xue Ning to embittered Yan Lin in Life No. 1 waxing poetic about his first impressions of Xue Ning with the exact. same. words. Add to it the implied threat of sexual violence in LIfe No. 1!!!

Chills.

*gagging* Did I say I like Yan Lin? Show, it's going to be hard for me to keep that opinion if you keep flashing back to that.

Me during the Life No. 2 Ning x Yan kiss scene:

I want no part of it.

All right, dude, are you telling me you raped her because she plain text told you she planned to marry someone who could help her achieve her goals?! She didn't sell you out to the devil... Or refuse to shelter either you or wounded family members... but because when you were at your lowest, like the bitch she admittedly is... was..., she told you the truth and cut ties? I mean, that's reason enough not to warn her a coup is coming for her ass in Life No. 1. There's no reason for rape, ever; even if she lit your dog on fire, you can't rape her. Just WTF, guy?!

...

Not that it excuses any of her horrid behavior but I can see how lonely Xue Ning is in what should be her familial home. That cozy scene between her parents and half-sister where in her absence there is only affection and warmth and in her presence, only awkwardness and discomfort.

She lived a childhood in poverty and exile being spoken and looked down upon; returned to her parents' home to find herself being shunted as second-born (in an era where hierarchy matters) and defective instead of receiving proper homecoming. I can see why the attraction of her sole dream, her ultimate goal - becoming Empress - would become all-consuming, especially if such a dream sustained her in exile and fueled her defiance at home.

...

Oh, jesus christ, Yan Lin, don't be an idiot! Don't believe in an enemy soldier during wartime, like...?!

...

So Xue Ning might have accidentally sold Yan Lin out to the devil.

But in her defense, that wasn't her intention. Just to watch him. Like a politics-minded creeper.

Me to Ning as she reads her former coachman cum spy to filth: GET HIM.

#post #tv show: story of kunning palace #teevee #cdrama #xie wei #zhang ling he #gif #references tv show: the office #xue ning #yan lin

[sailxrmxrs]

guess who had a week off work and took it as an opportunity to go wild go crazy over some friends to lovers thoughts. i always forget how hard the trope hits until i think about it for more than five minutes and realise that it is so so good and brainrot worthy. partially inspired by some crumbs in the vf server but also plucked from the depths of my brain. i'm a little rusty with fic writing bc of other projects on the go but here's hoping something decent comes out of it lmao. rory's was a little dialogue heavy but we move. expect some childhood friends to lovers, roommates au and more hehe. enjoy and see u in like three months lmao.

 ♡ leo ♡

“It really has been way too long, hasn’t it?” Leo said with a shy smile, awkwardly adjusting the cap atop his head. The two of you were eating lunch together after almost two years of not seeing each other. Adulthood meant more distance and less time to find a way back to one another so you both just let things drift as they may. Then, that one fateful afternoon you bumped into one another, got talking, and made plans to see each other the following week. It was like the world had offered you both a second chance at continuing what remained of your friendship and all the feelings that came with it. There was a lot of history, a lot of memories, and a lot of messy emotions left over from your younger years that hadn’t quietened down quite as much as you thought they had. But that was okay. Things with Leo were always easy, his sunshine disposition always making it easy to be around him, no matter how tangled your mind may be.

The day you first met, you were both too young to have a complete grasp on language, yet as you stumbled around the playground together, Leo was all smiles. Friendship followed fast, tirelessly asking to visit that same park playground each week to see the other. And every time without fail, you’d be in your own little bubble with Leo, running and laughing together like time didn’t exist. The world didn’t exist. It was only you and Leo. And as the summer months passed and it grew too cold to play around outside, his parents would drive him to visit. You’d be sat in your childhood bedroom with all kinds of clutter scattered about the floor and Leo would be asking you to show him how a certain toy worked or if you could draw something for him. Your parents would watch on, whispering about how they could easily see what your shared futures had in store. Even then, they could see a special kind of friendship was beginning to blossom.

And they had been right. Leo had remained a precious part of your life for many years following from childhood. Even as teenagers, Leo barely left your side. You were a perfect pair. So much so, that it wasn’t uncommon to come home from running an errand and find him sitting on your sofa as if he lived there too. With the amount of time he spent at your home—and you his—it did feel like it was equal parts his home too. Even if that meant him stealing more than a few snacks each week. But it was as time went on, that your friendship with Leo started to feel like something else. It was like you were more than close friends, but not quite romantically entangled. Leo had never shown any inclination that he was interested in anyone that way, yet your friendship with him was unlike any other friendship you had. You were content with how things were, even if a part of you pondered the what-ifs and could-bes if you dared to tread that water.

As time went on and adulthood approached, it became harder and harder to stay so impossibly close. Life plans pulled you apart and soon, weeks would pass before you’d see Leo again. At first, there were constant streams of texts and phone calls but time, too, chipped away until they were days, weeks, months apart. You tried to convince yourself that this was another part of growing up, that you would see each other again and everything would go back to the way it was. But it never quite felt the same. There would be an almost awkward energy hovering over your shoulder, whispering in your ear how you were no longer as dear to him as you once were. And, eventually, everything just stopped.

“I blame life. Also us for being bad at keeping in touch. But mostly life,” you replied. “I see your choice in fashion hasn’t changed since we were teenagers.” You nodded towards Leo’s cap. If memory served you well, it was the very same hat you’d bought for him one birthday. He’d immediately put it on and proclaimed he would never take it off.

“What can I say? When your favourite person buys you something, it’s hard to part with it.”

“Oh? Your favourite person? What an honour. Do I still hold that title or have I lost my job?” You had an idea of what the answer might be, knowing it might reopen old wounds, but you couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out.

“I’m not sure you could ever lose that one.” Leo looked almost wistful as he spoke, fingers toying with a napkin on the table. He spoke quieter than before, his energy lowering at the admission that he still cared for you as deeply as ever. “I wasn’t lying as a kid when I said you were my favourite. Always.”

You shifted in your seat. “Good. Because you’re my favourite too still.”

His smile grew as he outstretched a hand for you to take—if you wanted. Without hesitation, you let your hand find Leo’s, fitting as perfectly as it always had. And this time around, neither of you planned to let go.

 ♡ milo ♡

Living with Milo had certainly been one of the more adventurous decisions you’d made. You were in need of a new roommate to fill the newly empty room when Leo had passed you the number to one of his friends in need of a place to stay. He’d invited both you and Milo to coffee one day and that had been that. Contracts were signed, belongings moved in, and you were living with what was essentially a total stranger. Even within the first few months of him being there, you still felt like Milo was a stranger. His work hours and yours seemed to exist on opposite spectrums, meaning you never really got a chance to see him. The weekends were really the only times you were both at home together, but even then, Milo didn’t spend much time at home. He’d either be holed up in his room working on something, or he’d be out and about meeting his friends. He was a strangely busy man who didn’t know how to slow down. But you didn’t really mind all that much. When he was home, he was quiet and he didn’t leave any mess or clutter lying about. In essence, he was the perfect roommate, even if you did hope to grow a little closer to him given that you barely knew more than his name and a few surface level facts about him.

It all started to change one rainy weekend. The weather outside was abysmal. Cold and raining so heavy you could barely see a few feet in front of you from how hard it was pouring down. Even Milo couldn’t go outside in conditions like that. So he stayed home. And, in a change of pace, spent almost the entire day stretched across the sofa, tv quietly switching between shows. You were stood in the kitchen, making yourself a warm drink when Milo let out a disgruntled groan.

“Doing okay over there, Milo?” You called out to him, amused by his almost feline disposition.

“No. Bored.” He sat up, hair slightly mussed from where he’d laid against a cushion. “Any recommendations for shit movies? You know, the ones so bad they’re good?”

Walking over, you planted yourself down on the sofa next to him, reaching to grab the remote. “I saw some trailer last week that looked disgustingly bad. I think it came out yesterday or something. Fair warning, it looked like an actual trainwreck.”

“Perfect. Think I’ve got some popcorn hidden away somewhere.”

That night had sparked a new tradition between you and Milo. Now, every Saturday night the two of you would sit together and watch a terrible movie, spending the entire time laughing and pointing out ridiculous plot holes or poorly written dialogue. Each week you’d alternate between who got to choose, usually opting for something bad, but every now and then you’d discover a hidden gem that left you both holding back tears. It was fun to have something to look forward to every week, and the friendship that developed with Milo was like the cherry on top of an already ornate cake. And sometimes long after the movie had ended, you’d both be sat there together, sharing a blanket and replenishing cups of tea, talking long into the night. It would get to the very early hours of Sunday morning and you’d be struggling to hold back a yawn when Milo laughed and instructed you off to bed like a child scolded by their parent. Some nights when you were feeling more obstinate, Milo would come and lift you, carrying you off to your room where he’d unceremoniously toss you onto your bed and leave, calling a ‘good night’ as he made for his own room.

Somewhere along the way, as the longing for friendship faded as you grew closer with Milo, a new sense of longing decided to make itself known. You weren’t able to exactly pinpoint when those feelings became less platonic and tinged with something else, but all you knew was that it didn’t exactly bode well when you lived under the same roof as him. The options were to either ignore and pretend all was as normal, or you could pose the question and be a little more honest with him. Neither felt like the right decision. But one night, as Milo was turning the lights down for the night’s movie of choice, one you’d both agreed upon together, and he handed you the bowl of popcorn and got to making your favourite drink, all without needing to ask, you knew you were deep in it. Fearing your own sense of self, you edged further away from Milo’s spot and distracted yourself by looking at your phone.

“Nope. Not getting away with that one.” Milo’s voice came from behind you, pulling your phone from your grasp. There was a strict ‘no phones’ rule during movie nights that you were suddenly regretting agreeing to. Milo sat himself down, pulling a blanket over his legs when he noticed that you were further away from usual. The man was far too perceptive for his own good. And so he leaned over, sliding an arm around you and pulling you back closer to him.

“What are you doing?” You asked, unsure exactly where to look with him so close.

“Getting comfortable. I recommend you do the same.” Milo didn’t say anything further on the matter, though you noted the arm that had pulled you closer was now draped over your shoulders. This was new. But you liked it. And, as it seemed, Milo did too.

 ♡ rory ♡

“Did you want to go find somewhere to eat soon?” It was late afternoon and you had spent the best part of the day with Rory after a surprise text from him. He usually wasn’t the type to instigate last minute plans, enjoying his time off whenever he could get it. But he’d clearly had a change of heart when he texted about a new book release he was wanting to go and look for, inviting you along in the process to hang out for the day. He’d been as evasive as ever when you questioned the change of heart when it came to making plans, instead offering an iced coffee and croissant he’d bought shortly before you arrived. He claimed he was just ‘feeling generous’ but you knew Rory secretly liked to surprise people with gifts—even if they were in the form of a snack.

“You’ve truly mastered the art of subtlety, haven’t you?” His voice was pure sarcasm as he crossed his arms, staring you down with an unamused expression. “But yes, food is good. That place Tobias kept going on about is just round the corner, right?”

You nodded, flicking through the group chat to find exactly where Tobias had recommended after Rory sent a photo of you to show you were both hanging out. It was a fairly small place, one he’d found on one of his ‘Tobias ventures’ where he let his nose and stomach take him to wherever smelt the best place. So far he hadn’t disappointed with his choices. “Yeah, looks like it’s a left past here and then should be on the right.”

“Don’t tell him it was my idea to listen to him. I still haven’t lived it down after the last time.”

“Sure. Your secret is safe with me,” you replied, fully intending on passing the message along to the group chat. “Now come on, I’m hungry.” You reached for Rory’s hand to make your way for the restaurant, happily ready to stroll along when Rory’s unmoving rigidness made you stop in your tracks. “Helloooo? Earth to Rory. We’re going to that restaurant now, right?” You turned in confusion, trying to see what was holding him up.

Rory cleared his throat before he answered, his cheeks having turned a slight reddish pink. “Right. But, uh, what are you doing?”

“What do you mean ‘what am I doing?’ I’m just…going. Like we said.” Rory shifted on his feet. You waited a moment for him to speak, but he didn’t seem to be particularly forthcoming with his words just yet. Eyes scanning his body for any noticeable difference, your gaze landed on where your hand still held his, sparking a lightbulb to flash in your brain. “Oh? Are you blushing because I held your hand? How cute.”

His eyes widened for a split second. He had turned almost skittish in mere moments. “Yeah, sure, whatever. But why are you holding it, dumbass?” The surprise of it all wore off quickly, one of his favourite nicknames for you rolling off the tongue with apparent ease. Or he was just trying to hide how flustered he’d gotten. Or both.

“Because we are walking to the same place? And it’s busy so I’d rather not lose you in the crowd. What’s got you so worked up anyway, hm? Been that long since someone held your hand?” You couldn’t help but tease, especially after catching him looking a little too longingly at the romance section in the bookshop you’d visited earlier. It was pretty sweet how much of a hopeless romantic he was, despite his best efforts to hide it.

Rory scoffed, the blush now having spread all over his cheeks and to the tips of his ears. He really was easy to get worked up. He looked away, voice mumbling as he spoke,” No. But other people holding my hand isn’t quite the same as you holding it.”

You froze, not sure if you’d heard him correctly. He’d said it so quietly and there were a lot of people around so it was an easy mistake to make. But what if your ears hadn’t misheard? “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Let’s just go before my stomach starts shouting for food.” He tried to set off, hand still in yours, but you weren’t letting him run away so easily. Not when he was so clearly deflecting. You wanted to say something, though the words didn’t seem to want to come out.

Rory sighed, his hand in yours fidgeting a little but ultimately holding a tiny bit tighter. “This isn’t a conversation to have in public. Or a busy restaurant. Putting a pin in it then we can talk later.”

“And I’m taking the pin right out. Rory, we’re best friends. You can tell me anything. If not here then we just go home and talk.”

“What if us being best friends is the issue?”

Your brows furrowed. What on earth was the man talking about? “You want us to stop being friends? I’m really not following here, Rory.”

“No, it’s not that. Just…I don’t know how to say it without saying it.”

“That does not help me.”

“I know.” He exhaled. “I’m sorry I’m being awkward about this. I hadn’t exactly planned for this conversation but, do you ever think about us as something other than friends?”

“You mean…”

“Yeah. I do.” Rory’s hand felt somehow even warmer in yours. There was something akin to worry in his eyes, as though you might suddenly pull away and never speak to him again. You couldn’t fathom the idea.

You smiled, one that you hoped might reassure him and quell his concerns. “It’s a nice thought. Really nice. One we can dwell on over dinner?”

 ♡ alexei ♡

The summer heat was unrelenting as you taped up another cardboard box in the bedroom of Alexei’s apartment. He was moving to a different part of the city and had called in a favour to help with packing his things up one weekend. He had, in turn, managed to pick one of the warmest days to prepare for moving, a decision you had were already planning to get him back for. But, in spite of the heat crawling over your skin, it was nice to spend the time with Alexei. With how busy the both of you were, finding time where your schedules aligned proved to be a little more than difficult. But fate had been kind and given you both a weekend to see each other and reminisce on all the memories stored in every corner of Alexei’s home. There were photos and mementos of trips from over the years, little snapshots of times you’d somehow forgotten. It was easy to forget there was ever a time before the two of you became friends, the years having disappeared in what felt like no time at all.

You were holding a fridge magnet that Alexei had bought on a trip to the beach one summer. It was a roundish pinkish-orange shell, with two small chips at the edge from where it had been knocked off his fridge more times than you could count. He’d chosen to move it into his bedroom after he knocked off the shell magnet along with another and the other had not survived the fall. There were so many little stories scattered around the apartment. It felt sad to be saying goodbye to them, even if you knew there plenty more ahead in his new place. Not to mention the items were all going with him. Still, there were years of laughter and love painted into the pale walls that could never be retrieved nor relived again.

“Feeling sentimental over there?” Alexei’s voice sounded from the doorway, an empty cardboard box in his hands. He placed it down by a pile of clothes he had been sorting before coming to sit beside you, his usual gentle smile adorning his face.

“A little. It’s nice to see all this stuff again. I forgot about way too much of it.”

Alexei hummed, reaching for a photo of the two of you sharing a large bag of popcorn. You’d both been excited over the movie’s trailer and had expected it to sell out, only to get there and be the only two people in the screening. No other trip to the cinema had been quite the same as getting to laugh and react as loudly as you wanted together in front of the giant screen. Alexei had tried to toss popcorn kernels into his mouth and failed miserably most times. Then, as the credits were rolling, you took a commemorative photo to remember the one and only time you got so lucky at a movie showing.

“If you really want to go down memory lane, you should have a look at this,” he said, reaching over for a dark blue book. It had nothing on the cover to indicate what might have been inside, but he handed it to you, beaming.

“What’s this?”

“Just open it. Nothing’s going to jump out at you.” You weren’t sure if you should trust that comment. But, in spite of that, you opened the cover to see a myriad of tickets and receipts. It was a scrapbook from all the events, outings, and days you’d spent with Alexei. There was a rain-damaged handout from when you’d visited a local petting zoo; there was a little ticket from the time you beat Alexei at a mini golf course; there was token he’d accidentally pocketed from an arcade and forgotten to give back. Alexei had felt extra guilty about that one. It was filled with fragments of your friendship, a storyboard of your life together laid out on the pages.

Then you turned the page once more to see a single flower, preserved from being pressed between the pages. Around it were all kinds of Alexei-style notes detailing the exact species of flower with all kinds of facts about it. There was also a little paragraph in the top corner, explaining why this particular flower was his favourite. Because you had picked it and presented it to him as a little gift one day while you were out on a picnic. And you had been smiling. Your smile was his favourite, so that meant the flower was now his favourite because it had been infused with the image of your smile. It had little monetary value, nor did you ever expect him to keep it. You’d thought he would have just left it in the grass or tried to replant it so it didn’t die, not dedicate an entire two-page spread to commemorate this one small yellow wildflower. When you looked up, Alexei’s cheeks were a bright pink.

“I forgot that page was there…” His voice trailed off, eyes averting away from where you looked at him.

“Seems we’re both getting nice little reminders of the past, aren’t we?”

Alexei nodded, the movement awkward and stiff. “I’ll, uh, go back to sorting those clothes—” He tried to get up and away, only to be pulled back down by you reaching for the hem of his jumper.

“No running away from this one,” you teased, throwing yourself at him to wrap your arms around his neck in a tight hug. “This is really sweet. I love you. A lot.”

“Love? As in…”

“Yes, you idiot.”  

 ♡ brooklyn ♡

Rain gently pattered against the window of Brooklyn’s home, the view of the city obscured by water droplets. It was the perfect accompanying backdrop to the sound of pianos and violins coming from the two speakers either side of his television. The air had a slight chill to it, the rain having sapped all warmth out of the atmosphere. Brooklyn had been quick to procure a blanket to drape over both of your legs and brew a pot of tea to share while silently reading together. Since befriending Brooklyn, it had become common practice to spend time at either his home or yours, reading something the other had recommended or simply enjoying some quiet time in one another’s presence. You’d met some months ago thanks to a mutual friend introducing you both and, after realising you were neighbours, a close friendship had blossomed and bloomed into what it was today. That same friend who’d introduced you would often ask after Brooklyn, sometimes hinting at something other than friendship between the both of you. There was always a flustered awkwardness in your denials and adamance that there was nothing of the sort going on between you and him. Brooklyn was not the easiest character to read, his warm smiles and gentle movements barely an indication of any secret feelings of devotion he might be keeping close to his chest. Even now, with a shared blanket covering your legs and his, knees lightly touching, you couldn’t quite tell if he’d orchestrated the closeness merely for warmth or for any other reason.

Either way, the proximity felt far more intimate than it usually did. It was comfortable. So comfortable, in fact, that you could feel your eyelids growing heavier and heavier by the second. You didn’t want to fall asleep, especially not so close to Brooklyn, but your control over your consciousness was gradually waning thin.

“Is my company really that tiresome? Or was it the book? Although I do believe I was the one to give it to you,” Brooklyn teased, his thumb playing with the corner of the page of his own book.

A gentle wave of guilt fluttered in your stomach as you sat up a little straighter. “Not at all. I blame the tea.”

He chuckled, turning his attention back to his book. “If you need to rest, then please, be my guest.” As if there were some magical power in his words, the drowsiness in your eyes rooted itself even deeper and before you knew it, you had drifted off into sleep. What you did not know, however, was that your head had found itself resting on Brooklyn’s shoulder, having gravitated toward the nearest warm spot. Brooklyn was hardly shocked at the sight of you sleeping, but that still didn’t stop his cheeks from warming in turn. He waited there for a moment, hesitating to see if you would gain consciousness again before he moved. But after no sign of waking, he carefully slotted a bookmark between the book’s pages so as not to jostle you too much. His hand gently pressed to your cheek, lifting your head from his shoulder so he could stand and help lay down your sleeping body, moving your legs so that you were completely sprawled out across his sofa. He adjusted the blanket to cover you entirely and stood, watching for a short moment with an absentminded smile on his face. He did not mind at all that you had fallen asleep, only pleased that you felt comfortable enough in his presence to let yourself rest so deeply.

Brooklyn ran the back of his fingers softly across your cheek and leaned to press a featherlight kiss to your temple, not wanting to disturb you yet feeling compelled over the gentle gesture. As he pulled away to sit himself on another armchair, Brooklyn’s eyes widened as he felt a grasp clutch at his wrist and lazily pull at his arm. He tried to pry your fingers from his wrist but had no such luck.

“Naptime for you too,” you mumbled sleepily, barely awake with your eyes still closed. Brooklyn was torn with indecision. A part of him thought this was a bad idea—that it would be too much for his heart to bear once the moment ended. But another, much larger part of him, was tempted beyond all desire. He wanted to; he really did. So he let himself give in. He slid beneath the blanket and let his arm fall atop your waist. Brooklyn barely breathed being so close to you. It wasn’t until he felt you nestling your face into the crook of his neck that he finally let his resolve shatter. He could figure out his feelings and what this all meant later on. He would happily wait for another day to share the feelings that simmered so deep in his stomach every time his gaze landed on you. All that mattered in this moment, was how your legs were tangled together beneath the blanket, and how your fingers sleepily clutched at his shirt. For Brooklyn, this was more than enough as sleep slowly found him.

 ♡ tobias ♡

Some weeks had passed since the last time you saw Tobias. With his job, travelling was no rare occurrence. He’d been on a plane to the other side of the country one day and then flying somewhere else a few days later. It was a lifestyle he loved, getting to travel all over while getting paid. What wasn’t to love? The main downside being away from home so much meant being away from you, a longtime friend and supporter of Tobias as he started out on his less conventional career path. Yours was a friendship he treasured, frequently sending updates and blurry, zoomed in photos of his face so you didn’t forget what he looked like after a couple of weeks away. He left sleepy voice notes telling you he missed you, drowsily recounting his day’s events before his voice trailed off and the voice note came to an end as he passed out in his hotel room. He’d often find little gifts or souvenirs that reminded him of you, wrapping them all messily in tissue paper and keeping them in a box labelled with your name so he didn’t lose them or forget to give them to you once he returned. Tobias would ignore your protests that you didn’t need any gifts, enjoying your embarrassed smile every time you opened one up to see a painfully touristy t-shirt or funny little keychain.

“It’s basically tradition at this point,” he’d argue, folding his arms and turning his nose away. He wasn’t hearing any of your excuses. But it was all in good fun, quickly reaching for another ridiculous gift he’d found and tossing it your way. It really had become a tradition at this point. A rather sweet one, too.

Tobias had been away from home for almost two months now. It was one of the longest trips away he’d ever had and despite his frequent updates, you could still feel the long stretch of time as acute as ever. You didn’t let on just how much you missed him, knowing he’d only tease you about how you could barely survive without him, or that he was just that amazing of a person. He’d no doubt try and laugh off that you must harbour secret feelings for him. Although not entirely untrue, you weren’t going to tempt fate by letting him pose that question, even as a joke. It didn’t hit exactly how much you missed his amusing playfulness until you were driving to the airport to pick him up, anticipation bubbling and fizzing in your chest. Your fingertips tingled as you clutched the steering wheel, barely able to focus on much else other than getting there as fast as the road would allow you. His flight was due to land in about thirty minutes and you wanted to be there ready and waiting with his favourite starbucks order in hand.

Standing in the arrivals lounge felt agonisingly long. Watching waves of people come through and none of them being Tobias felt like tiny needles pinching at your heart. You were checking your phone every few seconds, waiting and watching for an ‘I’m home!’ text that he’d usually send. Nothing. Pocketing it again, you looked up to see the next group of people coming through, all unfamiliar faces. Exhaling a deep breath, you shifted on your feet when a pair of airs wrapped around you from behind. A small squeal of shock came from you, loud laughter erupting from the person who had assailed you. A laugh you could recognise anywhere.

“Tobias Fox, you are paying for parking for near giving me a heart attack.” Your heart was racing, almost pounding out of your chest as you turned to Tobias, gently shoving him away from you. “And I’m keeping this drink now. No presents for you.”

He tried, and failed, to quell his laughter. “Aww, come on, don’t be mean. It’s been two months and I just got off a really long flight so shouldn’t you be extra nice to me?”

“No.”

Tobias poked your forehead. “Boring. If I ask nicely, do I get an actual ‘welcome back’ hug?”

“Maybe.” Before you could even finish uttering out the word, Tobias’ arms engulfed you again, holding you close as onlookers smiled to themselves. His hold was warm and all-encompassing, the two of you barely moving as if time had frozen. His cheek felt hot pressed against yours, his breath tickling the tip of your ear.

“I missed you,” he whispered. “A lot.” It was rare for Tobias to sound so sincere. Sure, he’d tell you he missed you on the numerous calls while he was away, but it always sounded so amicable and reflexive rather than a genuine admission of longing.

“Yeah? Or did you just miss raiding my fridge?”

He chuckled, the sound sending a tingle down your spine with how close he was to your ear. “Mm, that too. But mostly you. We’re a team, aren’t we?” Tobias leaned away, arms moving to take your hands in his. He waited for a moment, eyes taking in the view of your face before he picked up his suitcase and called for you to lead the way out. His left hand, still entwined with yours, tugged a little, throwing you off balance. He didn’t let you fall though, letting his lips catch your cheek as he grinned and continued on as if nothing had happened. This was new. Something about the way his fingers clasped yours and the buzzing tension in every step you both took. The lines between friendship and something else had blurred beyond comprehension. But it was a comfortable space to be in, liminal as it may be. You had Tobias back now, for at least a week or two, and there was so much more that could happen in such a short space of time.

#infinite blue #infinite blue x reader #infinite blue fanfic #infinite blue rory #infinite blue tobias #infinite blue alexei #infinite blue leo #infinite blue brooklyn #infinite blue milo #time off work means being devious #and by being devious i mean i got some deep cut crumbs for a very specific situation hehe #i wrote this inbetween looking at my tomodachi life island where alexei is married to a vtuber and brooklyn set me up with rory #anna writes

[ninyard]

legally required to send you an ask? what if i pull a neil and lie to the fbi when they come to get me??? genuinely tho, tsc was so fucking good. jeremy and cat and lalia's dynamic has me chewing on walls, but so does the unrequited kevjean (fucked over by another pretty face??? jean teaching him french?????) and reading about the foxes's wins from jean's pov has me screaminf crying etc but I'd really love to hear if you have any theories on Jeremy's family?

Surprise I’m actually the FBI and I’m onto u now

But for real I’ve been going crazy thinking about TSC since I read it. The kevjean dynamic has me losing my mind like I got SHIVERS reading his asking Jean to teach him French. And the way my stomach FLIPPED reading “did you know I’ve never been skiing?” From Jeans POV. Puking vomitting screaming crying throwing up okay

Jeremy’s family. I have NO idea. It’s so vague they’re purely like random shots in the dark as to what it could be but here’s my thoughts as of rn:

1) Jeremy’s family are big investors in USC. It’s why he’s Captain, it’s why he has to show his face at Knox family events, public gatherings and all that, because he’s the proof that the money is worth it for the returns, and he’s the face of USC. They’re counting on his success to bring them more money.

2) Half of his family are homophobic. Maybe it’s just because he’s gay and his Political Old Money family seem to not get along with him very well that I think that, but also him bleaching his hair blond and then being unwelcome at dinners because of it. It seems like image is very important to them, and even if he’s quietly gay, dying his hair could be perceived as a Gay Thing To Do. His sister says to him “you destroyed the family,” what specifically could he have done to tear his family apart? Imagine your family investing (millions maybe) into your team, your sport, and then you put their image in jeopardy for being the out and proud gay kid that creates a negative talking point. He also quickly puts his phone away when he realises his sister is around which feels like a gay kid hiding from his family thing to do.

3) the banquet im at a loss for to be honest. I’ve been trying to rack my brain around what could’ve happened, but what we do know is a) whatever happened at the banquet tore their family apart b) his sister pretends Exy doesn’t exist because of it c) she’s never forgiven him for it. Gay Trauma brain of mine says maybe he took a man as his date and it caused a lot of problems in his home life, maybe they asked him not to and he said fuck you and did it anyway. But would that really destroy his family? The therapist thing too. Fight back against what???

4) there’s obviously some weird relationship problems in his family too. Doesn’t like to be called Knox, says his grandfather is not his grandfather, avoids his brother like the plague. The only person he seems to talk to is the butler. His sister barely regards him as well. He feels like the black sheep but I don’t know why!!! Also at some point it’s mentioned (I’m pretty sure anyway) that he doesn’t seem to be getting much in terms of monetary handouts from his family so he’s potentially having Allison type problems where he’s lost his inheritance or cut out of his grandfathers will or SOMETHING. He feels like the disappointment of his family but I can’t place my finger on why other than the fact that he’s gay. I don’t know. I’m going CRAZY not knowing tho.

Jeremy is fascinating me and it’s infuriating that I don’t know more. I know it’ll make the reveal in TCS2 much sweeter but damn can I pls get a little crumb of his backstory? His trauma? Just a little bit?

Anyways this an incoherent jumbled mess of thoughts about Jeremy but I am SO curious about his family. The banquet especially because it’s pretty intense, or seems to be at least from that little paragraph about it. I would die for you Jeremy Knox just tell me everything first pls!!!!!

#Jeremy!!!!! my boy!!!! my gay boy!!!!!!!!!! #he’s too happy! I have to know why!!!!! #tsc #tsc spoilers #Jeremy Knox

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Buyer Beware: A Yuri story

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)  

“This is patrol craft nine-three-zero calling command; sector Sigma-twelve is clear, moving to next patrol.”

Mince flicked off the transceiver and started entering the new patrol coordinates into the nav computer. As he entered the final digit the computer flashed green as he felt the engines vibrations through the decking spin back to life.

“I don’t know why you feel the need to make that report each time we clear a sector.”

Mince looked up from the nav computer to see his partner waking from his nap and stretch out. Crumbs fell off him like the rocks of an avalanche and Mince could see the stains of several pastries still splattered across it like the finger paintings of a child. Had a senior officer been attached to their patrol ship Vicon would be hauled out and lashed until his uniform bore a new shade of red for such lack of discipline, but all of the officers were needed for the war effort and honestly Mince had grown tired of trying to change Vicon’s mind.

“It’s protocol to make routine reports.” Mince replied dryly as he got up from his pilot’s seat and went to the back of the cockpit to pour a fresh mug of Savatha Juice.

Vicon laughed and tilted his cap back over his head. “I doubt anyone in command even remembers us out here, let alone has someone reading out reports.”

He thumbed his right hand over his shoulder at the wall behind him adorned with a propaganda poster showing a Xinda soldier hoisting a cartoonish representation of a Marketh warrior up on a spear while females and children gathered behind him. “That thing’s almost as old as I am, and we’re still not even close to winning this war.”

Mince grabbed his mug and returned to his chair just as the jump drive finally kicked in and the ship was lurched forward at incredible speeds. On some level Mince wanted to tell Vicon that he was an idiot and that of course they would win the war, but he couldn’t deny that this conflict had gone on far beyond what was originally expected.

A minor skirmish over a colony world between the Marketh and his people the Dril spiral out of control nearly some twenty years ago resulting in nearly two decades of on again off again warfare. Every time the Dril thought they were going to have the upper hand and finally overcome the Marketh they would suddenly counter attack and drive them back. What was even more confounding was that the Dril navy vastly outnumbered the Marketh and had established a blockade around their entire territory hoping to starve them into submission, and yet still they had continued their fight. Military analysts had expected them to run out of war material five years ago, but every Marketh soldier was still equipped with a fresh uniform, combat supplies, shredder rifle, and at least five magazines worth of ammo.

“I’ll grant you it’s gone on too long,” Mince conceded as he took a sip of his drink, “but in the win so what does it matter?”

Before Vicon could reply with another snarky remark the ship jittered and exited out of the jump.

“Beginning scan now.” Mince said dryly.

“Who are you saying that for Mince? I’m the only one her-“

Vicon was interrupted by the loud chime from the return scans. This surprised Mince just as much as neither had expected there to be anything in the sector.

“We are reading a Cubato cargo hauler moving past the third planet.” Mince looked at the data being fed to his terminal by the scanners, quickly analyzing each strand of data like it was a letter from his wife. “It appears to be functioning order and we are detecting no distress signals on any frequency.”

“Cubato?” Vicon pondered, finally taking the moment seriously. He pushed himself forward, koc and began checking his own terminal feeds. “This system is still listed as off limits by high command, and the Cubato should be well aware of that.”

The sensor terminal chimed again and the pair looked down to see a second icon appearing at the opposite edge of the sector. It was far from hiding its presence and was making a straight path towards the anchored ship above the third planet. Unlike the first ship however, this second mystery ship was already in their database.

“New contact is registering as a Marketh light frigate.” Vicon called out as the two blips drew close together.

The terminal let out a series of beeps and chimes as new data began flooding in. Vicon took a close look at it then turned to Mince who nodded. “Several small containers are beings floated across from the Cubato hauler into the hold of the frigate, and if I’m reading this right each container is registering power signatures known for Marketh weaponry.”

Vicon leaned back in his chair as the realization hit him. “This is how they’ve been able to maintain the war.” He said to Mince who still looked confused. Vicon pointed to the Cubato hauler and continued. “The Cubato have been supplying war material to the Marketh and keep them in the war.”

Without warning the scanning terminal began ringing out warning alarms as the Marketh frigate suddenly broke away from the hauler and began making a b-line straight for their patrol ship.

“BLARGERSULTUFF!” Vicon cursed as he began rapidly entering keys to spin up the jump drive. “They must have finally seen us on their scanners.”

“Data collection finished,” Mince added as he strapped himself in, “command is going to want to see this; it could change the war.”

The alarms began ringing louder as the Marketh frigate began firing from extreme range. The chances of being hit by a plasma lance from that far were minimal, but it was never a zero percent chance.

“Jump drive ready, get us out of here!” Vicon shouted as the first plasma lances started flying past their ship.

Mince smashed his fist into the jump button and the ship lurched into a jump just as a lance strike came mere inches from hitting their cockpit. ------------------------------

A knock at the door drew Yuri’s attention from his novel and he put it aside on the waiting nightstand beside his chair.

“Come in.” he announced and the door slowly opened to reveal one of his aides shuffling into the room.

“Pardon the intrusion,” they began formally, “but there has been a recent development with operation Siberian railroad.”

Yuri hefted his cup as he listened and his aide brought over a fresh bottle of wine to refill it. He swirled it for a moment before taking in the scent while he nodded to his aide to continue.

“It seems our contact in the Cubato government used a third rate smuggler on the latest transaction with the Marketh and a Xinda patrol craft stumbled upon the transaction.” The aide pulled out a small folder from under his arm and set it on the nightstand beside Yuri. “The Marketh were unable to destroy the ship before it fled from the sector and reported their findings to Xinda command.”

Yuri picked up the folder with his free hand and casually skimmed through the documents in silence while he continued to swirl the cup of wine in his other hand.

“I had expected them to at least make three trips before they were caught, but in a way this unforeseen interruption speeds things along nicely.”

He casually tossed the folder back on to the nightstand and smirked at his confused aide as several pages spilled out on to the floor.

“I thought the plan-“his aide began before Yuri cut in to save several back and forth questions and answers.

“Was to continue arming the Marketh so the war could be prolonged?” Yuri finished. He took a final sniff before judging the wine ready and took the first sip.

“I intentionally diverted our higher grade smugglers to other tasks leaving our Cubato contact no option but to hire a third rate smuggler who just so happened to be in the area.” He took another sip of the fine vintage and looked at his aide still hoisting an expression of bafflement.

“I wanted the Xinda to stumble upon the transaction, thus confirming the involvement of the Cubato government in breaching the Xinda embargo and further infuriating the Xinda government with their arms dealing with the Marketh.”

He set the glass down and stood up, casually straightening out his finely tailored clothes and walking over to his aide. He felt like a teacher nurturing a bright pupil that was so close to solving the problem of their lifetime.

“Even with the arms dealing the Marketh were set to lose the war in another three years; but now with the potential entry of the Cubato people into the war when the Xinda attack them, the war will be escalated further and continue long into the future.”

“But what guarantee do we have that they will go to war with the Cubato?” His aide asked. “For all we know this could be easily resolved with a diplomatic negotiation.”

Yuri tilted his head in consideration of his aide’s assumption. “True, but you are forgetting the contacts we have in the Xinda government who are as we speak stoking their respective public into frenzy over this outrage.”

He put a hand on his aides shoulder and leaned in to whisper “Not to mention the anger that will wash over them when the two pilots manning the patrol craft are found dead in their homes; seemingly murdered by Cubato weaponry.”

The look of bafflement faded from his aide’s face as it was replaced with one of horrific realization. Yuri let go of his aide and returned to his chair and novel. He took one last sip of wine before setting the glass down and flicking through the pages to find his previous place.

“The goal of Siberian Railroad is to ensure that neither the Xinda, Marketh, nor Cubato ever gain enough strength to pose a threat to humanity nor her interests for that region of space. I personally find it so much easier and cost effective to have our enemies fight each other than waste time fighting them ourselves.”

With that final comment Yuri had found his page again and motioned his aide to leave. Compared to this latest Sherlock Holmes novel he had acquired planning a three way galactic war was but child’s play.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01

[r1ddlessy]

bad day with edward nashton

a/n: if you think you know the answer to the riddle lmk!!

warnings:one mention of a gun

"what's wrong, baby?"

you asked gently as you saw edward staring into the wall with a hazy look on his face. he jumped slightly like you'd startled him, before he shook his face.

"nothing, i'm fine honey." he lied and tried to force a smile but it came out wrong and you knew him too well.

"please tell me, i wanna help you baby." you walked closer until you reached the sofa then you sat on the floor in front of him. you looked up at him and rested your hands on his thighs. edward couldn't hold back when he saw how concerned you looked. he sighed softly.

"i'm just going through a rough patch, you know?" he cupped your face and you nuzzled into it. "just don't know anymore." he looked away once more, while you listened intently. "i don't feel worthy of being with you. i feel like i'm just bringing you down..." he murmured the last sentence quietly but you heard it loud and clear.

"but eds, that's not true!" you protested. "you're amazing and i love you so much. i wish you could see yourself the way i see you." you spoke earnestly, gently reaching out to move his gaze to yours. "why don't we do some things to cheer you up?" you suggested, biting your lip nervously as you awaited his response.

"you would do that for me?" he asked softly, completely astounded. you smiled up at him.

"i'd give you the sun if you asked for it." you admitted, before standing up off the floor and patting his thighs lightly. "you sit right there mister, prepare for an evening of enjoyment." you grinned and bowed before you left, making edward laugh which brightened your mood. you picked up a few DVDs from your bedroom and returned to the living room where edward was sat patiently.

"what movie do you wanna watch, hon?" his face lit up as you showed the display of movies you'd brought.

"The Shining, please." he answered without hesitation and you laughed, having already seen it with him an insane amount of times.

"alright, i'll pop it in while i make some cookies." you kneeled down to place the DVD in but edward moved it away from you.

"don't wanna start it without you..." he said shyly and you smiled, nodding understandingly as you stood back up.

"i'll make you a hot chocolate for while you wait for me to make the cookies then, hon." edward blushed and thanked you while you went into the kitchen. when you returned with a hot chocolate in his favourite mug with whipped cream and mini marshmallows, tears stung at his eyes.

"no one's ever taken care of me like this." he murmured as he took the mug from you. you kissed his cheek and squeezed his upper arm.

"i'll take care of you now, hon."

25 minutes passed and the cookies were piled high on a plate, warm and ready to be eaten while you both curled up in each other's arms on the sofa.

"have i ever told you how handsome you are?" you blurted out as Wendy and Danny walked through the maze on-screen. edward spluttered on his mouthful of cookie and hot chocolate, and you wiped the crumbs from the corner of his mouth. "because you are." you smiled as you cuddled into his side, looking up into his eyes. "you've got beautiful eyes and such a cute face, it's so kissable!" you gushed and edward grew bright red. to prove your point, you planted a kiss on each of his cheeks and one on his nose. when you saw his flustered face it ignited something in you, and you crawled over to straddle yourself over his lap. edward sat as still as a statue while he awaited your next move. you didn't give him time to prepare before you started planting a flurry of kisses on his face, trailing down from his forehead down his nose to his chin and jaw.

edward hummed quietly in bliss. you gave him a few sweet,chaste kisses on his lips before you finally pulled away.

"i love you more than life itself." you murmured, smiling softly as you looked at him.

"you're my whole life." he responded before pulling you close to his chest. you lay comfortably in each other's arms until the end credits rolled, and edward frowned for a moment wondering if this was the end of this blissful time. he hid his frown as you stood up and put the DVD away.

"oh eds!i nearly forgot i got you something..." you hurriedly left the living room and went into the kitchen, coming back with a big book with "50 Riddles" printed on it. "i thought maybe we could figure some out together." you smiled as you brought it over and set it on his lap, opening it to the first page.

"a man walks into a bar and asks the bartender for a glass of water. the bartender pulls out a gun, and the man thanks him and leaves." your brow furrowed as you tried to think of the possible solutions. barely a few seconds passed before edward came up with the answer. you checked it and giggled.

"is there any riddle you can't solve?" you teased.

"how on Earth i got lucky enough to be loved by you."

#ramblings...to the batman!✍️ #the riddler x reader #the riddler fluff #edward nashton fluff #edward nashton x reader

[bmodiwrites]

You Drew Stars Around My Scars

Hi friends! This one is based of a prompt I got sent a couple of days ago. The general gist of it is janitor x workaholic AU. So, here we are! Eddie's a story board editor with nothing to go home to and Steve, well, he's a janitor. This little beauty is filled with cuteness, a few twists, and lots of steddie goodness. Oh, there's some naught stuff, too. Minors, DNI! Check it out here or over on AO3! Let me know what you think in the comments below <3

Dropping the ludicrously expensive color pencil back onto his drawing desk, Eddie reclines back into his chair. He quickly clenches and unclenches his fingers in a desperate attempt to get some blood flow back to them. The sketch before him, a recent episode idea for Epic Kids, is almost perfect – after ten straight hours of work, Eddie is glad to see the thing finally shaping up into what it’s actually supposed to be.

As a story board artist, the demands on Eddie change daily. He doesn’t work for one show or something simple like that. Instead, he works for a company that dabbles in both television and video games. His projects range from children’s shows to multi-million dollar selling video games. No one knew the 90’s would be the time technology blew up – now, so many different game consoles exist, Eddie is never shy on work.

Upon picking up the craft right out of college, Eddie didn’t expect this to be the rest of his life. Sometimes, though, the world works in mysterious ways. The children’s book he always wanted to write comes alive in the shorts he draws and ideas he shares. Though he’s still wanting to put together a D&D epic for younger kids, Eddie is content enough with his lot to continue doodling on someone else’s dime.

He's about to pick the red pencil back up when the creak of his already open door startles him. It’s well past the time at night where anyone else is usually in the building. Eddie likes to close his door until everyone leaves so he’s got the space to himself. Now, he’s drawing in ambient light with nothing to disturb him – except, he guesses, for a gorgeous man dragging along a cleaning cart.

For a lingering moment, Eddie knows the man hasn’t seen him yet. He’s got headphones covering his ears and his head bobs to the beat. Strong hands are already reaching for the tools he’ll need to clean the floor before clearing out Eddie’s trash. This guy is new because no one ever took the time to sweep up the pencil shavings under Eddie’s desk. Lately, he’s been coming back to the office to a clean space. Now, he knows who the culprit is.

Since the guy still isn’t reacting to Eddie’s presence, brown eyes greedily take in their fill. Though the headphones push it down, the janitor has gorgeous hair. It’s thick and dirty blonde. Eddie thinks about the potential for amazing hairstyles and almost swoons. As his eyes roam a little further, Eddie notices wide wire-framed glasses pushed up an angular nose. They enhance hazel eyes that are now looking at him with a mix of panic and surprise.

“Oh damn, I’m so sorry. No one is ever here, I didn’t even think to knock. I’ll uh – I’ll come back later.” The words are out of the new janitors mouth so fast that Eddie’s head spins. Though, he’s quick to put it on right in hopes of keeping this mouthwatering stranger in the room.

“Hey, it’s alright. I should be thanking you. You’re the first cleaner to ever pick up my pencil shavings. It’s awesome, man. I appreciate it.” Eddie finishes his thanks with a soft smile. It should be enough, saying something sweet before moving on. Yet, it’s not. Eddie feels compelled to keep talking. “Are you new?”

The guy looks incredibly uncomfortable for a second before nodding. It’s brief and coarse but it’s a reaction – one that Eddie wasn’t all that sure he was going to get. Happy with that small crumb, Eddie’s smile widens.

“Cool, you’ll like it here. I’ve been working behind this desk since college. Loved every second of it.”

His comment is met with silence that lingers so long Eddie thinks his new friend is done with the conversation. He’s about to grab at his pencil again when that deep voice sounds off.

“Maybe you’re right. It’s really quiet. I like that.” The man pauses for a second, takes Eddie in. His hazel eyes roam over Eddie’s face and down until he sees the drawing on the desk. For an instant, those eyes widen, but the moment is gone long before Eddie can process it.

“I’ll let you get back to your work, Mr. Munson. Sorry again about the interruption.”

Shrinking back at the name, Eddie calls out immediately – “It’s Eddie. Please, call me Eddie.”

Though the man doesn’t verbally respond or outwardly acknowledge Eddie’s request, there’s a short little nod before the squeaking of the cart sounds again and the enigma of a man is gone as quickly as he came.

Over the next couple of weeks, Eddie changes his routine in hope of bumping into their new custodian again. He walks the halls every couple of hours during the day to see if the man works while the rest of his crew does, but never finds him. He then stays a little later, lingering in his office until the call of food or a television show or plain boredom has him collecting his bags to head off for the night.

Eventually, Eddie’s enigma makes another appearance. This time, though, Eddie is not prepared for him. He’s been curled up into the sanctuary of his arm, napping soundly, since his last meeting. They ripped apart his drawing and asked for something completely different than what Eddie had been picturing. The game isn’t even out yet and Eddie is over it. The headache that sets in kicks his ass, making the call of the flat of his desk so very enticing. He doesn’t know he’s fallen asleep until the door kicks open and he’s blinking awake.

“Shit, I did it again. I’ve been saving your office for last every day, trying not to disturb you on your late nights. Sorry, Mr. – Eddie. I don’t mean to disturb you.”

Sitting up a little straighter in his chair, Eddie stops him before he can go. “Wait! You don’t have to do that. I don’t mind the interruption. It’s probably needed. I’m spending way too much time here, anyway.”

With an invitation to stay, the guy doesn’t take off like the rocket he had just been trying to become. Instead, he lingers in the doorway, eyes roaming over Eddie again. Since they’re staring at one another, Eddie doesn’t disguise his desire to look back.

This time, Eddie notices a thin little mustache that covers red and probably delectable lips. They’re plump and forming words that Eddie is obviously missing out on. He clues back in just in time to catch the tail end.

“ – my friend’s son loves Epic Kids. I get so many more cool points now because I know one of the artists.”

Eddie is glad he managed to tune back into reality – catching that compliment makes the rest of his shitty day seem insignificant. Epic Kids is his pet project, one he’s much more interested in than the stupid game pitch still haunting him from his desk. Though, Eddie is unsure how the man before him knows about his involvement. He hasn’t had a new project for the show cross his desk since they first met.

“How did you know I worked on that show?”

The man smiles then, his lips (they are absolutely kissable, Eddie just knows it) quirk into a knowing grin. For the first time since Eddie encountered him, there’s a sign of life outside of trash cans and a grumpy demeanor.

“That first night I barged in, you were working on a doodle that ended up in yesterday’s show. After Lucas finished up the episode, I watched through the credits. Eddie Munson, Storyboard Editor, is pretty hard to miss.”

“It’s kind of unfair you know my name and I don’t know yours,” Eddie petulantly says before he can stop himself. Though, it’s not a bad thing because the man laughs, genuinely chuckles, and points to the embroidered name on the left side of his tacky blue jumpsuit.

“I’m Steve. Steve Harrington.”

Eddie’s cheeks heat up for some reason, as if access to a name gives him so much more. While it’s just a title to call the hot man that roams the halls at night, Eddie sees the vulnerability as something more. An obvious door has been opened and he’s timidly excited to step through it.

Steve becomes a regular fixture after that. It’s easy for him to wheel his cart into Eddie’s office at the end of the night and make conversation while he goes about his duties. Eddie draws or sits in his chair listening intently to everything Steve’s got to say. He learns about the man’s found family and his platonic soulmate who also doubles as a roommate whenever she’s in town. The connection they have is something that should be cherished, despite only being nurtured for a handful of minutes the nights Eddie can force himself to stay late enough.

There is, of course, an easy fix. Eddie isn’t one to actively pursue another person, especially when he’s not quite sure about their interest. Steve, it seems, is the exception to every rule that Eddie’s ever put into place, however. Their time together is too nice not to extend it past the walls of his workplace. Never mind the fact that Eddie is more than excited by the prospect of Steve in anything but the ugly blue uniform he’s forced to wear. The man is beautiful, Eddie sees that through and through. Something tells him, though, that Steve has lots of potential outside of navy blue.

He bids his time until the perfect opportunity presents itself. It’s a Thursday night and Steve is already talking about the weekend. He has yet to mention Friday night, however, so Eddie takes that as his chance.

“What about Friday? Are you free? There’s this joint in town I’ve been dying to try out, thought you might like to come.”

Eddie waits with bated breath as Steve blinks a few times behind his thick lenses. He goes about putting the trashcan back in its spot, even replaces the bag before looking in Eddie’s direction.

“Uh, yeah. That – that sounds good. I haven’t been out with adults I didn’t grow up with in ages. I think I’d really like that.”

It takes a massive amount of effort for Eddie not to happily jump up from his chair. His fist is tingling with the need to thrust itself into the air in triumph, but Eddie keeps control. After finally securing some extra time with Steve, the last thing Eddie wants to do is muck it up by being over eager or worse – immature with his excitement.

It seems, however, that Steve is just as excited. Pink overtakes his cheeks and a smile that Eddie’s never seen before stretches those gorgeous lips wide. And while he’s not making eye contact with Eddie at all, Steve sneakily glances in his direction time and time again as he finishes up.

Eddie feels like he’s back in high school again, fumbling over his first crush. It’s a glorious thing, experiencing freedom like that after the fickle mundaneness of adulthood.

----

As expected, Steve is an absolute dream out of uniform. The yellow polo Steve’s wearing makes the hazel in his eyes stand out beyond belief. His blue jeans are tight in all the right areas, enhancing thighs and ass like navy blue fabric never could. Eddie has to physically close his mouth upon first glance, lest he starts drooling before the date actually gets started.

Thankfully, Steve spots him across the weird little bar and makes a beeline in Eddie’s direction. The space they’re in is an eclectic little place that serves beer while it’s patrons play mini golf on the two courses out back. It’s one of the coolest things Eddie has seen – he desperately hopes this little place won’t be the last of such an interesting idea.

Everyone around them looks to be enjoying themselves, either way.

Glad for that knowledge and reassurane, Eddie makes quick work of getting them both a drink and the things they need to play the first course. Steve is slightly stiff as they start but loosens up by the third hole.

Now that they’re not in the noisy bar and the party before them is a couple holes ahead, Steve relaxes. He starts to shoot better and actually takes a couple pulls of his drink. It’s a relief because Eddie already thought he blew it.

As it turns out, Steve is just a man with a little social anxiety. When it’s just the two of them, Eddie gets so much from Steve. He talks about his family the most, the little brother (who’s not actually a ‘real’ sibling, though Steve counts him as one) that’s been a pain in his ass most of Steve’s life, the niece and nephew he spoils incessantly. It’s a beautiful thing to experience a person so dedicated to the people around them.

Eddie tries to reciprocate by telling him about art school and the program he did throughout. He talks about the children’s book he wants to write, despite never spilling the beans of that to anyone else in the entire world. Uncle Wayne doesn’t even know the plot of Eddie’s dream work. For some reason, Eddie can’t stop himself from speaking so earnestly to Steve. It doesn’t hurt, however, that Steve is pretty candid with his words, too.

The only thing that Steve doesn’t talk about is himself. After the first date and then the second, Eddie chalks it up to nerves and taking things slow. He���s in deep already, so the change in pace is a welcome thing.

Except, it keeps happening the longer they’re together. Two dates turns to two months of dating, two months of Steve avoiding questions, two months of them never once setting foot in Steve’s apartment. Admittedly, the lack of personal details is a little off putting. Though, Eddie is eager enough to see where things might go with Steve that he pushes all of that aside. One day, one day really soon, Steve will open up.

It eventually happens, just not in the way Eddie ever thought it would.

For the first time in their entire relationship, Steve’s walking him towards his door. Well, he’s backing Eddie up against it because they can’t keep their hands off each other. Between their intense connection and the chemistry that runs rampant, Eddie’s been edging himself, waiting for this very moment. It’s a little much now that it’s happening but Eddie’s here for it, eager and willing, too. So much so that he doesn’t question Steve leaving off lights as they stumble inside.

Despite the time it took them to get here, Steve is anything but patient and inexperienced. He doesn’t fumble or miss buttons in the darkness of the room. His accurate attack gets Eddie out of his clothes in record time.

Instead of taking off his own, however, Steve immediately drops to his knees, eager hands finding Eddie’s cock without struggle. Long fingers wrap around the base while Steve’s other hand drops to Eddie’s balls. He rolls them at the same time the wetness of his mouth sucks in the head of Eddie’s cock. It’s so glorious, Eddie can do nothing but thread his fingers through Steve’s hair and pull him closer.

The suction is so good that Eddie has to dig the nails of his free hand into the fleshy skin of his palm. Drawing blood is the only thing stopping Eddie from shooting down Steve’s throat but it’s all too good to make him stop. At least, Eddie thinks that until the end is actually imminent. Then, he tugs on Steve’s hair, pulling him off as gently as possible.

“You’re way too good at that. Care for a little something more?” Eddie asks as Steve stands up from his spot on the ground. There’s a smile on his face, though Eddie barely recognizes it in the dark. He thinks to ask about the light but bypasses the urge – if Steve wanted them on, he would’ve flipped the switch as he passed.

Knowing that, Eddie is a little surprised that Steve takes off his clothes at all. Usually when a person liked to keep the lights off, they liked to keep their clothes on, too. Steve, it seems, is filled with contradictory worries and triggers. He sheds his clothes in the same manner he disrobed Eddie. It’s efficient and quick and soon, they’re both standing in front of each other naked as can be.

Steve doesn’t give Eddie much time to take him in. That self-conscious air is back, despite Steve covering it up by sliding his body on top of Eddie’s on the mattress. They fit together so well it’s difficult to keep up with anything at all aside slick slide of Steve’s hips as he grinds down against Eddie. Their cocks are both wet with pre-cum that makes each brush of their pelvises an electric thing. Eddie is already done in – he’s not sure how much more he can take.

There must be precognition in Steve’s life because he moves away from Eddie right as he thinks that. It’s both a torture and relief, one that’s only made better by Steve shifting his body so he can dig into the bedside table for a condom and some lube. The triumphant little noise he makes is kind of nice, too. It reorients Eddie back to the real reason they’re taking each other apart. He loves Steve. Steve loves him. Coming together like this is the ultimate culmination of their feelings for each other.

That thought echoes in Eddie’s head while Steve lubes up a finger, then leaves a dollop of the cool liquid on Eddie’s hip for later. When that finger breaches him, Eddie lets Steve project his love into him, feeling complete for the first time since things started between them. It’s satisfying and dizzyingly delicious.

Steve is very good at the things he’s doing to Eddie. His fingers take no time at all to find Eddie’s prostate. They nail the bundle of nerves tirelessly before not touching it again for many minutes on end, despite more digits coming to the party.

Eventually, three fingers barely skim against it by the time Steve’s getting antsy for more. Eddie too is right there with him.

“I’m good, Steve. I’m good. I need you, baby.”

A soft chuckle slips from Steve’s lips that are pressed against Eddie’s neck. While hands fumble between them, Steve kisses and nips little marks into soft skin, distracting them both from the lurid slip of a condom down Steve’s cock. Eventually a hard tip presses against Eddie’s entrance and the softest of whispers echoes in his head.

“I’ve got you, Eds. I’ve got you,” Steve mumbles, his words laced with lust and want and anticipation that reaches a peak as Steve finally presses inside.

It’s so difficult to keep his composure, Eddie doesn’t even try. He yells out a loud “fuck” that sits in the room with them. While Steve draws back and thrusts forward, Eddie clings to him. He runs his hands over Steve’s back and sides, tracing lines of something like scarring from one side of his torso to the other. If he was thinking straight, Eddie would’ve taken that all into account. Instead, he wraps his arms around Steve’s neck and lets the man drop even more weight upon him, distracting Eddie further.

When the end comes creeping near, Steve’s head is tucked into Eddie’s neck, his harsh breath like a tsunami’s wind. Eddie is hanging on the precipice, already able to cum for minutes now. He’s clutching to that edge just to make sure he tumbles off at the same time Steve does. It only takes a handful of thrusts and a cleverly placed bite of Steve’s teeth right above Eddie’s collarbone for both boys to free fall into the unknown abyss of immaculate pleasure.

Eddie must black out because the next time he blinks back to consciousness, there’s light streaming through Steve’s windows. There are curtains but each one is pulled back, letting in the light.

It’s then that Eddie sees them, the reasons behind Steve’s need to keep the lights off in front of Eddie. There are scars everywhere that Eddie can see. Some are long and thin while others look like something tried to take a bite out of Steve’s skin. The flesh is red and raised, though healed completely all the same. Eddie wants to reach out and touch but he refrains. Intimacy is a gift he doesn’t want to give away. Misplacing Steve’s trust in him is not at all what Eddie wants to do.

Already, it’s too late, though. Steve turns slightly, revealing more of the scars on his chest and neck. There’s a long line around his throat that Eddie is surprised he’s never noticed. It obviously hides well under all the clothes Steve wears. This time, he doesn’t tamp down the urge. His fingers brush up against Steve’s neck on their own accord.

“What happened, Steve?” Eddie’s eyes are welling up with tears. He can’t decide if he’s mad at whatever did this or overwhelmed with the need to care for the man before him. That must be clear – Steve doesn’t draw away or try to hide. He rolls over completely and pulls Eddie into his arms.

“It’s – really hard to explain,” Steve starts, his hand idly running up and down Eddie’s sides as they cuddle. “The town I grew up in, Hawkins – it made the news a bunch of times a few years ago.”

Sensing some familiarity, Eddie wracks his brain, trying to remember but New York is a long way away from Indiana. He still nods his head, willing Steve to go on.

“Some crazy stuff went down that you probably won’t believe. In the end, I took a beating to make sure my family got to see another day. I got… taken and the things that were trying to tear Hawkins apart, they did this to me. A couple times over.”

Steve’s a little breathless when he finishes. Despite not sharing all that many details, Eddie knows whatever he just purged from Steve is a lot. It’s something that’s stricken him down in unimaginable ways.

For all it’s worth, Eddie leans further into Steve, dragging him in a little closer. He doesn’t know what to say but that seems to be okay. Steve wraps him up tighter and lets the easy silence settle between them. Without noticing, both drift off again.

Between a nap and another round of amazing sex a while later, Eddie is famished when they eventually resurface to go about the rest of the day.

Steve volunteered to cook so Eddie wanders around the apartment. He takes in the comic books and CDs. There are toys in a box in a corner and a big tv box tucked into a nice looking stand. It’s simple and nice and totally not what Eddie expected at all.

Neither is the master’s degree Eddie sees hanging from the wall.

“Steve, you went to college? For longer than the mandatory four years?” Eddie’s voice is high, the shock clearly coming through.

Steve comes bounding around the corner, a spatula still in his hand. “What are you screaming about in here?”

Eddie takes a long breath and then another. He looks at the diploma on the wall and then back at Steve. “You never said you were a college boy.”

Laughing lightly, Steve shrugs his shoulders. “You never asked.”

“But – “ Eddie starts, his face flushing. The mere thought is too much. How can he ever say the words?

Steve, of course, beats him to it. “But what? But I’m a janitor? You know, Eddie – that’s pretty narrow minded of you.” The words hold no malice, despite the tone of Steve’s voice.

“I don’t like people or crowds. I have PTSD from all the trauma in my teens. Offices and university campuses are the Mecca of loud noises and large masses of other humans. Instead of putting myself into danger, I work a slow job that fits my complexities. It’s exactly what I need, Eddie. Kind of like you.”

The last sentence is enough to make Eddie’s head spin. He for sure thought he was getting a lecture where in fact he gets the opposite.

Steve strides towards his bookcase a determined look in his eye. He searches and skims his fingers over book spines until the right one is in his hands. “Read this. You might understand things a little better. I always told anyone who asked that the events weren’t real but they are. Everything I wrote down in that book is what me and my friends went through. All of it.”

Steve taps the top, looking directly at Eddie. “Read it, don’t read it. If you’re curious about me, you’ll find a lot of what you want to know between those pages.”

All the sudden, Eddie remembers where he heard the name Hawkins before, where he’d even been privy to Steve’s name prior to them meeting. Looking down at the book in his hands, Eddie distinctly remembers demogorgons and bats with tails that stung and ripped and tore. Quickly, Eddie riffled through the pages in order to get to the back cover.

There, in all his gorgeous glory, was Steve Harrington, not at all smiling at the camera. Reading into the bio, Eddie ticked off all the educational credentials that Steve has. Two master’s and a prestigious scholarship from the university he used to teach at. Despite himself, Eddie is surprised, yet not all at the same time.

Instead of continuing to read through the book in hopes of finding out more details, Eddie closes it and puts it back on the shelf where Steve found it. Sucking in a long breath, Eddie nods, then goes to join Steve in the kitchen. Now that the cats out of the bag, Eddie thinks he might enjoy learning more about his boyfriend strictly from the source himself.

As Eddie settles himself against Steve’s back, he allows himself to relax. Steve’s mystery is one Eddie can’t wait to pick apart. Until the clues lay themselves out for him, however, Eddie’s content to hold onto Steve tight and see where the road leads them. It’s too easy to be enraptured by a man that holds his hand while flipping pancakes with the other.

“Thanks,” Eddie whispers as the breakfast making commotion calms down.

Steve doesn’t ask him what he’s thankful for or demand an explanation. He simply pulls Eddie close and silently finishes breakfast.

Slow and steady.

Absolutely perfect in every way.

tag list (message if you'd like to be added): @infinite-orangepeel, @thefreakandthehair, @corrodedcoughin, @prettyboisteveharrington, @writer-in-theory

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve x eddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #janitor steve #artist eddie #bobbie writes #you drew scars around my scars

[enumchase]

Okay as my all-time favourite Ted lasso artist and blog; what are your honest thoughts about the finale episode??

i've still only seen the episode once but just for you, sweet nonnie, i will rewatch it for more thoughts, but for now:

LOVED probably 80-90% of the episode and it was bittersweet and emotional af

every single one of the callbacks made me so happy especially the offside and nate's play

the so long, farewell scene?? are you kidding me???

trent. TRENT. my sweet gal. my little guy. i'm glad we got a final few ted/trent scenes in there and so grateful for the crumbs and mr lance's wardrobe.

i'd hoped for the whole season they weren't gonna do the love triangle thing with roy & jamie again, but unfortunately they did and even left it till the finale which was disappointing, but i did like how they resolved it, even if the throuple didn't happen (:/ or at least didn't happen onscreen)

i needed more nate this episode - i was hoping he wouldn't return just as a kitman and i wanted to see how that conversation went, but as always nick delivers on the stuff he DID get and i'm eternally grateful for his presence in the show

seeing the full diamond dogs just brings me so much fucking joy god i love six (6) men

barbara is such a little freak i love her and everything about her

one final triumph of tony head's rupert was incredibly satisfying to see i love old men. but WHERE IS BEX. i needed to see the rebecca/bex/ms kakes revenge storyline

re. the tedbecca of it all, i really thought they were gonna do it till the airport scene and am still surprised they didn't, which meant that the first fakeout scene was absolutely uncalled for and felt really in bad faith after the fact, even as a person who does not actively ship them

now for the stuff i REALLY. really. did not like, as evidenced by a number of dozens of tweets and two long stern worded replies in brendan's ama: absolutely unbelievable that beardjane were endgame when basically no other established ships/relationships ended up being endgame. very disappointed about the direction the show took them in and the writers' not realizing how harmful it can be to celebrate a toxic and abusive relationship. most important i think beard deserves better than jane but maybe that's just the beard fan in me talking.

i wish ted & beard would've had a deeper conversation re. jane & leaving london before they literally got on the flight, and gave us more resolution with these two men whom i dearly love and want to see more of - it does NOT help when brendan says they "don't see each other for years" because cmon. this is a feel good tv show. you don't have to bring your "real life friendship" stuff into here. make us feel good about ted leaving please.

and finally, ted leaving, which i definitely expected. i just didn't expect that the people trying to make him stay to not have any effect on him at all. i agree with others that ted seemed quite distanced and detached for the whole episode, but they'll most likely never end up addressing this ever again. i wish he'd explored more options than just "leave permanently and never come back" - and ended up being the same place he started before he came to london, but i appreciate the effort he is making for henry.

as for the future of the show, i hope there'll be a spin off with maybe some of the existing characters but definitely a whole new showrunning/writing/creating team, i would love to see other's interpretations for the characters & universe i've grown to love over the past year and a half.

so yeah, that's about all i can think of re. the finale. i was holding out for the last 15 mins of flashforward montage to be a dream sequence but brendan debunked that theory pretty definitively yesterday, so there's that. i appreciate the show for what it was to me and forgive it for what it wasn't, and i will still be enjoying the bits i enjoyed from it wholeheartedly - it was not a perfect show, but it was a great show to have enjoyed over the past year and a half and to have shared with the rest of y'all. i cannot wait to see what the universe, and everyone who was involved with the show will go on to do next and you'll be damned if i wasn't gonna follow jimmy lance's career until he is fully out of work. richmond till we die <3

#ted lasso #ted lasso spoilers #chase replies #anonymous #thank you for the ask nonnie ily i'll add more if i think of anything <3333

[jadeee]

"Thank you for letting me live my dream."

If you love something set it free.

~ A/N: I planned on posting this after the last chapter of Vendetta, it's been in my drafts for months; but at this rate, the series prob won't be done 'til next year.

Warnings: angst + slight swearing

Word Count: 2.5k

* suggested soundtrack below

You didn’t even have to say anything. He could already tell it was you by the way you bursted into the house. It was eerily quiet until you unlocked the front door.

“I finally made it!” You let out a low laugh as you worked out of your jacket.

The warmth from the fireplace spread throughout the house and heated your cold limbs. 

“I’m sorry it took me forever to get here.”

As you set your jacket and scarf onto the coat rack, you took in a deep breath. Whatever Nicky had made for dinner smelled delicious. Your smile turned into a pout when you didn’t hear his handsome voice. 

“Nicky?”

Your eyes scanned the room for your one and only as you took off your shoes. Then suddenly, there he was.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

“Hey, you!” 

You embraced him tightly the buried your face in his neck.

“Sorry I’m late.”

He rubbed your back “Don’t worry about it.”

When you pulled back, you noticed his eyes. Of course, you’d always noticed them but there was something different, something buried deep down.

“What’s wrong?” Your hands cupped his cheeks.

He gazed into your eyes then took hold of your hand. His lips parted for a moment but closed shortly after. He glanced at the floor before looking back at you.

“I’m just gettin’ lost in my head.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Over an empty stomach?” He gave you a small, goofy smile.

His mood was contagious and it made you light up.

“Absolutely not!” He lightly kissed your knuckles “Let’s eat first.”

He continued to hold onto your hand while walking to the dining room.

~~~~~~

Nicky carried on as usual, asking about your day and even giving anecdotes here and there about his but something was off. There was a certain uneasiness to it all. As if one were attempting to dance with their partner in the dark but couldn’t find them, only to look like fumbling idiots. 

“So,” you poked at the crumbs of your meal with your fork.

He took a sip from his glass while you proceeded to talk.

“What were you thinking about earlier?”

You set your fork down and glanced up at him. His hazel eyes looked right past you. The house was silent … once again. Nicky studied you for a moment.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“What?!” His eyes bulged out of his head.

“You can tell me, we can talk about it!” 

“Amore, no.” A small laugh escaped between his lips as he stood up.

You watched him in awe as he made his way towards you.

“C’mere.”

You glanced up at him without moving.

“C’mon, I wanna show you somethin.” He offered you his hand.

You looked at him in silence before getting up. 

“Okay but you’re sort of scaring me.”

“I’m sorry, amore mio. It’s just,” he let out a short exhale “I can show you better than I can say it.”

You took his hand in yours and he held onto it tightly.

“And don’t be scared, you’ve got me.” He looked back at you and smiled.

“My knight in expensive suits.” You chided.

“Damn straight.” 

You both laughed at the joke as Nicky walked towards his show and tell.

~~~~~~

You furrowed your brows when you entered your bedroom.

“I don’t understand.”

“We’re not there yet.”

You shut your lips as he continued to guide you to his side of the bed.

He sat down and guided you to do the same.

“Is this your way of saying you want dessert?” You knitted your brows.

“No!” Nicky laughed.

You awkwardly chuckled, “Okayy.”

“Do you see that photo right there?” He nodded at the picture of you two on his nightstand. 

“Yeah, of course. I remember when you got it framed and everything.”

“Well,” he grabbed it off the nightstand “that was the happiest day of my life.”

He admired the photo in his hands “So was our wedding day and everyday in between and after.”

Your stomach felt tight as he set the frame back down and looked into your eyes.

“The finest booze can’t compare to every day I’ve spent with you.”

He held onto your hand “And I want you to feel that way too.”

Tears welled in your eyes “What are you saying?”

“Toots,” he fought the tears in his eyes “amore.” 

His hazel eyes glanced up at you without saying another word.

“Nicky.” The tears fell from your eyes as you shook your head.

“Is it because I was late?! I tried really hard to get here and–”

“Amore,” he chuckled in disbelief before holding your face gently in his warm hands. He looked at your face which wasn’t exactly picturesque, there were trails of tears and some snot which started to seep from your nose, but it was the face he had the joy of seeing every morning and night. He kissed your forehead and despite shutting his eyes, he cried. You held onto his forearms and continued to sob.

He didn’t bother to wipe his face, since you’d seen him cry before.

“You deserve the world.” He wiped your tears away with his thumb.

“I want you to be on cloud nine.”

“But I want you.” You pleaded through your tears.

He held you in his arms against his chest “You got me. Now, tomorrow, always.”

Your tears slowed each time he rubbed your back.

“I’ll always be here. I’m not goin’ anywhere but,” he gently leaned back and peered down at you “you’ve got a big, bold world out there waitin’ for you.”

You cowered into yourself.

“I’m only one part of the picture.”

“What if I don’t wanna see the rest of it? The picture I mean.”

“You’ll be missin’ out.”

You racked your brain for a rebuttal then clinched your jaw when you realized he was right in some way.

He reached for your hand and ran his thumb across your fingertips.

“Time’s wastin’ but I’m glad I spent it with you.”

“Me too.” You intertwined your fingers with his.

There was so much said in the silence. Endless “I love you”s, memories of early mornings and late nights, remembering the shared firsts and avoiding the last. This last.

“I don’t know about tomorrow. All I know is that we have now, so whaddaya say?”

He looked at you with tear stained, blotchy cheeks and smiled.

“Let’s go out with a bang?”

A tear fell from your eye as you studied him. With each mole on his face, the curve of his cheeks and chin, you thought of your time together. Your lips formed a smile as you continued to cry. Though you could hardly speak, you nodded your head. 

Nicky’s arms held you close like many times before.

“I know,” he uttered with each caress “I know.”

~~~~~~

“Are you sure this is safe?”

He stared down the flight of stairs.

“Nope.”

You readjusted yourself on the rail of the staircase before giving Nicky a nudge forward. 

He clamped down on the wooden rail, “Wait!”

You let out a small squeak as you pushed up against him.

“Wait, don’t move!”

He disappeared down the hall then returned with two helmets in hand.

He plopped one onto you with a grin, then donned his very own.

“I still don’t know about this m-”

“Just go already!”

You shoved him from behind and the two of you went sailing down the staircase.

Your shrieks echoed throughout the halls as you rode the oak ribbons. They didn’t stop either when you flung off the rails and landed in the mountain of pillows you’d made earlier.

You felt your heart beating in your ears.

Nicky attempted to catch his breath. 

“Are you alright?”

You took off your helmet and patted your head to assess any damage, then worked down your legs. 

“All good! You?”

He examined himself three times over, before laying down with a sigh of relief and giving you a tired grin and a thumbs up.

“Please tell me the next thing isn’t as crazy as this one.”

“Don’t worry, pops.”

Nicky chuckled at your joke as you stood to your feet.

“It’s safe, I promise.”

You held your hand out to him and he pulled himself up.

~~~~~~

“I’m gonna throw my back out!” Nicky peered at you over his shoulder.

“That’s the point!”

You walked towards him with a smile and repositioned his hands to his knees.

“Okay, now what?” He glanced up at you.

You hunkered down next to him, “Just pop it.”

You moved your body to show him what it should look like.

After a few seconds, he repeated the move hesitantly before trying it once more.

You let out a small laugh at how his body awkwardly moved.

“Alrigh alright” he stood up straight and took note of how you laughed at his pain.

“I’m gonna show you a real dance.”

“What’s that? The hokey pokey?” You raised a brow.

“Ha ha,” he deadpanned while approaching you “and no.”

He gently grabbed your hands in his “it’s called the waltz.”

“Oh, how fancy.” You uttered as you pressed your body close to his like many times before.

Nicky guided you through the steps until you got the hang of it.

He hummed the beautiful melodies of a symphony. 

You almost heard each instrument as you lay your head on his chest.

The room was silent but you heard the violins, harps, and cellos.

“You’re not fallin’ asleep on me, are ya?”

He peered down at you.

“No, I’m just listening.”

“To what?”

“Our song.”

The corners of his lip turned up. He kissed the top of your head, “It’s beautiful.”

~~~~~~

Your bodies were covered every inch of the lounge chair. Legs sprawled about, an arm here and there, but your eyes were fixed on the other. Whether you were painting one last mental picture of your lover or reading the black and white pages in front of you. 

Nicky continued to read from the book you chose earlier, draping an arm across your form. You rested your head on his shoulder as you looked out at the stars, hoping they’d tell you your future. 

He glanced down at you in your state of oblivion then slowly shut the book.

“And it’s true,” he read the words on his heart rather than the ones on the old, yellow pages “In the beginning, I was hopeless. Life had no meaning but then I found a reason to live … or maybe it found me.”

You tilted your head back to look at him and he continued.

“It was better than anything I could’ve dreamed and speakin’ of dreams,” he looked at you fully now “I know you’ve got your own, out there.”

Tears threatened to fall from your eyes once more.

He cupped your cheek in his hand and you leaned into his touch.

“Thank you for letting me live out my dream. Te amo, amore mio.”

The tears you held back released themselves.

Nicky guided you to rest in his lap.

Your cries echoed against his stomach.

Once again, your tears soaked his shirt for the umpteenth time that night.

Every time he caressed your back, a tear escaped from his eyes.

He made his voice small so he could soothe you, and secretly himself.

It didn’t matter what he said.

He knew words couldn’t heal the pain you’d felt. The very same agony was coursing through his body and it was unbearable.

The midnight sky stared back at the two of you while the silence seemed to make its home in once joyous company.

“I want you to promise me something.”

You looked out at the sky without facing Nicky.

“What is it?”

“Promise me,” you paused to gather your breath “promise me you’ll try to be happy without me.”

He uttered your name with a plea.

“I mean it!”

“Only if you make the same promise.”

He extended his pinky towards you and you rolled over.

You hooked your pinky around his. You savored this moment, his touch and his warmth. He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it.

Your fingers found themselves intertwined as you basked in the moonlight, sleepily recanting the memories you created over time. Stolen kisses in public spaces, late night rendezvous, escapades beyond the border, what it was like to make dinner together for the first time, or the day you met his family and the day you became part of it.

“If I’m honest, when I first saw you. You scared the shit outta me.”

“You’ve been in gunfights, chased by cops, in a room filled with ruthless gangsters” you let out a small yawn “and lil ‘ol me scared you?”

Your eyes fluttered as they tried to fight sleep.

“Yeah, lil ‘ol you.” 

He playfully pinched you and you swatted at him, a little too late, with your eyes closed. He grinned at your delayed reaction.

“You wanna know why?”

“Because I’m drop dead gorgeous.” You answered with a low voice.

He turned his head and admired your face as you lightly snored.

“You made me feel somethin’,” he chuckled to himself “I thought it was only in the movies but I was wrong.”

His words fell on silent ears as you rolled over into him.

His cheeks warmed as you cuddled against him. He started to lean back so he could look at you once more but he stopped himself. Instead, he kissed your cheek before holding onto you tightly. 

~~~~~~

When you woke up, you felt different somehow. You couldn’t quite place it and you didn’t have time to since your alarm went off. You got ready for the day ahead without giving any dreams you had much thought.

Once you had time at work, you sat at a table in the break room. You pulled out your phone and started to look through your games.

“Hey!” One of your coworkers entered the room, “Just the person I wanted to see.”

You lifted your head and locked your phone “Oh hey, what’s up?”

“A couple of us are going out to karaoke tonight, you wanna hang?”

“Uh,” you thought it over for a second. Your coworkers invited you out to every function but you didn’t have the time or energy to go until today.

“I promise we won’t make you sing.”

You laughed “Okay, sure. Why not?”

“Woohoo!” 

~~~~~~

“Jenny I got your number, I wanna make you miiiiinnneeee!”

“Eight six seven five three oh niiinneeeinneee!!” 

You laughed at how carefree everyone was and joined in.

This was just the beginning of your new chapter. Sure, the characters were different and who would’ve guessed the plot but it was an enjoyable narrative.

~~~~~~

It had been a while but you started to get back into old hobbies and even tried new ones. You hung out with friends, old and new, made memories with them or either by yourself. You felt yourself smiling more and doing things like singing in the shower or driving with the windows down and doing that thing people do with their hands. I guess you could say you were living.

~~~ A/N: For people falling out of the Fictif fandom and moving on to new ones or just other things. This is for us and thank you for everything.

#nicky valentino fictif #fictif nicky valentino #nicky valentino #fictif nicky #two against the world #fictif tatw #madebyjade #nicholas valentino #nicky valentino x mc #nicky valentino x reader #Spotify #nicky fictif

[hollybell51]

Chapter Five

What’s said and done

Our Treasure - Jim Hawkins x fem!Reader

Chapter Four, masterpost

Word count:  2055

Summary: you regret some things you said and say some things you regret. 

Notes: sorry for the wait lol, this is my desperate attempt to raise the stakes and add some of that lovely angst we all live for. This is also where I show you all just how terrible I am at writing action, and how limited my vocabulary is... I’m truly sorry. 

The next morning, you were woken early by John shaking your shoulder and holding out a piece of toast. You pushed your hair out of your face, sitting up and opening your mouth to ask what was going on.

“Shh!” he held a finger up to his lips, glancing around. “Come on.”

You shuffled over to where your boots were jumbled in a heap with your jacket where you’d flung them the night before, pulling both garments on and taking John’s proffered piece of toast. You quickly did a check of the kitchen – where you slept most nights, then followed the cook up onto the main deck, then below again to the stores.

Some of our crew were already there. You swung up onto one of the rafters, letting your legs dangle over the edge and the crumbs from your toast rain down on anyone unfortunate enough to stand beneath you.

“All I’m saying is that we’re sick of all this waiting!” The aptly named Bird Brain Mary’s voice cut harshly through the low murmurs of everyone else, and you frowned. You could never fathom why you always had to get stuck with the most annoying life forms roaming the galaxy. It was like you were a magnet for them or something. 

“Ve are vanting to move!” Meldown backed her up, his thick accent making the words sound all the more fervent. 

“We don’t move ‘til we got the treasure in ‘hand!” John reprimanded. You took another bite of toast, smiling innocently down at Hands, who glowered at the crumbs on his arm. You didn’t understand why John wanted you there – he could have handled it easily by himself.

“I say we kill ‘em all now…” Scroop hissed, scuttling to the front of the crowd.

“I say what we do!” John almost shouted, grabbing Scroop by the neck. “Disobey my orders again like that stunt you pulled with Mr Arrow and my cabin girl, and so help me you’ll be joinin’ ‘im!” He tossed the Mantavor roughly against a barrel in the corner.

“Strong talk,” he hissed, getting to his feet. “But I know otherwise.”

“You got something you wanna add?” you called from your perch, swinging your legs back and forwards.

“Ah…” he sighed, withdrawing a purp from the barrel, “it’s that boy. Methinks you have a soft spot for him.” He looked between you and John, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “The both of you.”

You felt your stomach sink, but tried as hard as you could to keep up the appearance of nonchalance. You took another bite of toast, crunching on the crust loudly. The crew were muttering in agreement with Scroop, which wasn’t good. Could he have seen you and Jim last night?

“Now mark me the lot o’ ya!” John growled, “I care about one thing, and one thing only! Flint’s trove! Ya think I’d risk it all for the sake o’ some nose-wiping little welp?”

“Yeah,” you added, “he’s nothing to me. Just a way to get that treasure.” God, you were glad Jim wasn’t there right now.

“What was it now?” Scroop said, putting on a fakely sentimental face. He grinned, then said in a crude imitation of your voice: “you saved my life, Jim.” He turned to John, then continued: “you’ve got the makins of greatness in ya—”

“Shut your yap!” the cook snapped. “I cosied up to that kid to keep ‘im off our scent. But I ain’t gone soft.”

You were stopped from defending yourself by the shout of “land ho!” from the deck above, and the uproar that followed. You jumped down from the rafters, rushing with everyone up to see the planet. The sight of it chased Scroop’s words and the guilty pit in your stomach from your thoughts. It was beautiful, just the way you remembered it from the book you had as a child. The two criss-crossing rings of luminescent green and greyish rocks stood out against the smokiness of the surrounding space, chucks of black rock floating at random around you.

“Jim!” you shouted, running down to where most of the crew slept in search of him. It was empty but for a few scattered belongings, so you ran back up the stairs and onto the deck. He wasn’t there either, so you checked the kitchen. Maybe he’d gone to find you.

Nobody was in the kitchen, but you grabbed a few knives and shoved them at random into your belt anyway. It never hurt to be prepared. You rushed back up the stairs, pulling your shirt down to cover the blades as you went.

“Lass,” John grabbed your arm, and you stopped in your tracks. “Have you seen me glass anywhere?”

“No,” you said quickly. “Where’s Jim?”

“I ‘aven’t seen ‘im this mornin’,” the cook frowned, then shrugged. “Maybe I left it down below.” He set off towards the storage, and, seeing nothing better to do, you followed. You glanced around for a second at the top of the stairs, then turned back and walked straight into John’s back.

“Shit,” you cursed, rubbing your face and stumbling backwards. “Can you—”

“Jimbo,” John said in surprise, and you poked your head around his large figure. Jim was indeed standing on the step below you, a mixture of shock, fear and anger flitting across his face.

“What are you…?” you started, but John shushed you.

“Playing games, are we?” he asked softly, descending into the storage area, forcing Jim before him.

“Yeah,” the boy muttered, “yeah we’re playing games.” He glared at John, then at you. Oh shit.

“Ah, I see.” The cook must have come to the same conclusion as you. “Well I was never much good at games.” Behind his back, his cybernetic arm was clicking into the gun function, and he was using his other hand to flick the safety off. “Always hated to lose.”

You moved your hand to your hip, slipping your fingers under your shirt until they came into contact with the cool handle of a knife. It was a small one, but it would do in a pinch. You just hoped it didn’t come to that.

“Hm,” Jim grunted, “me too!” He rushed forwards, slashing at John’s cybernetic leg on the way past. He shoved you out of the way, but you grabbed his arm.

“Stop, Jim!” you shouted over the hissing of John’s leg and the cyborg’s shouts. “Let me explain!”

“Let me go!” he growled, elbowing you in the ribs and tearing free. You cursed violently, then glanced back at John. He seemed to be ok, so you rushed after Jim. Only you couldn’t see where he’d gone.

“Where is he?” you hissed, taking out a knife and holding it by your side.

“Captain’s quarters,” John panted, nodding to where you could just see the bolt mechanism sliding into place. You raced towards the door, slamming against it as John let out a piercing whistle, alerting the crew to make their move.

“Jim open up!” you yelled, jamming the pointed end of your knife into the door latch and jimmying it around. There was no answer, but you kept shouting and knocking anyway. A gunshot went off inside, then there was the sound of breaking glass.

“Someone help me get the door!” you yelled over your shoulder, then stood back. Several members of the crew pointed their guns at the bolt, letting loose laser beams.

“No need to take all day about it!” John shouted, pushing his way to the front and fitting a blaster to the end of his robotic arm. He raised it, powered it up, then blasted straight through the door. You hoped nobody was inside.

You ran through the smoke and debris, almost falling into a human-sized hole in the floor. You jumped down, racing through the mechanics of the ship towards the longboat bay.

“Follow her!” you heard John yell behind you, then more heavy footfalls and shouts as the crew obeyed.

In front of you, you could see Captain Amelia’s back as she sprinted along a corridor, darting through a doorway. You cursed as she slammed it shut, skidding to a stop.

“Blast the door!” you yelled, then grabbed a gun for yourself and aimed it at the lock. It fizzed brightly in the dimness, joined by the beams from the others’ own guns as you worked away at the door. It finally fell away, and you poured through into the longboat bay.

The hatch was open, and three figures were silhouetted against the bright light outside, all with guns.

“Morph, no!” Jim’s voice yelled, then someone – presumably Jim – leapt over the side of the longboat and onto the catwalk.

You jumped across the other walkways, sprinting towards him among the sounds of blaster fire, Captain Amelia’s choice insults and the yells of the crew. There was a huge bang, and you looked up to see that someone had shot out one of the generators above. It crashed down, taking some of the crew with it out the hatch and smashing through walkways.

The hatch was closing slowly, so you guessed someone must have found the switch for it. You jumped across another walkway, then ran along it to where another one intersects. A few more jumps and you would be on the same one as Jim.

“Morph, come here!” he was shouting, jumping around and trying to catch the little creature. If you could make the jump to the longboat next to him… You measure the distance with your eyes, biting your lip. It was a long way, but you thought you could make it.

Taking a deep breath, you took a few steps backwards, then ran forwards and leaped off the walkway, sailing through the air for a few seconds before you slammed into the side of the longboat. You grabbed onto the railing, hauling yourself into it and rolling across the decking.

“Morphy, come here!” John called, and you poked your head up to see the little creature floating between the two of them, a large golden sphere in his mouth. The map.

“Morph, bring it here!” Jim called, holding out his hands.

“Morphy!” John countered, whistling to him.

The two of them continued calling to Morph, obviously confusing the poor thing. He looked between them, then dove into a pile of rope. Both rushed towards it, but John’s leg was still broken and Jim was much lighter on his feet. He grabbed the sphere, turning and rushing back along the walkway to where you were still in the boat.

You felt the knife in your hand, its weight and balance as you raised it up, taking aim at the running figure. You drew back to throw, swinging the blade between your fingers, judging the angles and Jim’s running speed, where he’s going. At the last second, you released the knife, holding your breath as it spun end over end towards Jim. It hit right where you meant it to, when you meant it to, stabbing through his sleeve and into the wood of the ship’s side.

He turned, shock and hurt written clear as day on his face as he pulled the knife free, tossing it to the deck. You took a step backwards, your hands pressed over your mouth and your breath coming in short gasps. You held Jim’s gaze across the walkway, feeling like you might be sick.

“Now!” Amelia yelled, and the awful moment was shattered. Jim turned away, jumping down into the other longboat as Dr Doppler and the Captain shot out the cables on the roof, their boat falling out into the space below.

You heard John get up and you heard his string of curses as he headed for the main deck, and you heard the whining of a laser cannon firing up, you heard the crackling of the shot speeding past. You saw the explosion down below, but you didn’t feel anything. Well, apart from the urge to vomit.

The look on Jim’s face when you threw the knife, when it hit him… You dropped to your knees, your arms and torso resting on the railing of the longboat and leaned over, retching. You kept heaving until all of last night’s dinner and that morning’s breakfast were deposited out of the ship, then collapsed.

Chapter Six

#treasure planet #treasure planet fanfic #self insert #self insert fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #jim hawkins #jim hawkins x reader #jim kawkins x yn #work in progress #multi chapter #some angst #angst #fem!reader #reader insert #fluff #disney #disney movies #teenage romance #slowburn if you squint #slow burn #orphan #slavery (mentioned) #happy ending #angst with comfort #angst with a happy ending #angst with fluff #moral ambiguity #space #space pirates

[alexagirlie]

We Daren't Go A-Hunting for Fear of Little Men - Chapter 2

(Masterlist)

Fandom: Dune

Ship: Paul x OMC, Paul x Duncan

Summary: Duncan managed to fall asleep for a few more hours and when he finally startled awake the room was dark, the sun having set and the moon casting silver light across his bedroom floor. He rubs his eyes and moves to sit up against the headboard, his sheets falling to gather around his waist, chest bare to the air. He was still trying to figure out what woke him when another knock sounded at the door and it clicked open.

Warnings: aftermath of battle. injury recouvery. love confessions. mutual pining. author semi introduces her oc.

Taglist: @succnfuccubus

When Duncan woke hours later, drowsy and aching all over, he saw Paul, slumped over at his bedside fast asleep. The young prince's head was resting against the mattress next to his arm and he did not look at all comfortable. As Duncan's eyes adjusted to the dim light of the infirmary he could see evidence that Paul had been crying at some point, his eyes red rimmed and wet, but his clothes looked dry and the wound on his temple had been tended to. 

To Paul's left, on the bedside table, he spotted a single plate with a small pile of crumbs and a single lemon tart. Lemon tarts were Duncan's favourite and he felt a flood of warmth in the center of his chest at the young man's obvious care. 

Further investigation showed that someone had tied a small talisman to his bed post, made of colourful feathers and woven golden string. The pattern woven into the string shows it to be a talisman asking for a blessing from EVIKA, Mother Goddess, creator of all life. The feathers were from the red hawk, purple corvid and blue gull. The feathers of these birds represent the three chief deities of Healing. The red hawk to represent the Goddess LEIGHEAS to increase healing energy, the purple corvid was for the God SCITHE for recouvery from blood loss and the blue gull for the Goddess FAS for the healing of bones.

Duncan dozed off for another few hours, not stirring again until soft voices in the room roused him from the dark. He recognized Paul's voice along with whom he was assuming was one of the healers. Opening his eyes he saw that he was correct, standing next to the young Prince was the white and gold robed figure of Healer Yueh, their chief healer. They were conversing in whispers and didn't appear to have noticed that Duncan was awake yet.

Also woven into the talisman around the feathers were blooms of a blavies bush. Whoever had woven the talisman held great love for Duncan, a love new and unspoken. He wondered if it was from the same person who had been sneaking dried flowers into his quarters the last few weeks. Small symbols of feelings emerging that could no longer be contained. He decided to ask Paul if he saw who had left the Talisman after the younger man awoke.

Not that it took long for Paul's training to pick up on being observed and he turned to look at the bed. A huge grin spread across his face and helped to mask some of the exhaustion still etched onto his face.

"Duncan! You're awake!" He exclaimed and rushed to Duncan's bed side, Healer Yueh following at a more sedate pace. "I can never let you out of my sight again! I turned around for a minute and you ran off to the eastern front and took on a whole unit by yourself! You could have died!" Duncan could see that Paul was getting worked up and reached out, grabbing a hold of Paul's hand, mindful of the scattering of bruises he spies on the prince's knuckles.

"I'm okay, my boy, you got to me right on time," His thumb began rubbing back and forth across the back of Paul's hand unconsciously. "I couldn't disobey your command, your mastery of The Voice has grown too strong.”

Paul scoffed and squeezed Duncans hand back. "Yes, well don't play the hero all the time and I wouldn't have to use The Voice on you at all.”

Healer Yueh had apparently waited long enough and cleared his throat, hoping to step into the conversation. "On the note of your injuries Swordmaster Idaho, I would like to go over the instructions for your recouvery." 

Duncan shifted his attention to the healer as he listed off Duncan's injuries from the battle. He had 3 broken ribs and a cracked sternum, both from the same blow he had received, courtesy of a warhammer, which had been hard enough to dent his armour in, protective glyphs be damned. There was also a long deep cut that ran across his abdomen, a blade had slipped under the plate of his armour and pierced the mail underneath. This was the wound which had almost proved fatal, his blood seeping out drip by drip on wet stone.

"We were able to close the wound and repair most of the damage to your chest but you will be sore for a few days more." Healer Yueh pulled open a cabinet beside Duncan's bed and pulled out a number of jars full of herbs and powders and began mixing several into a mortar. He ground them all together and poured them into a glass jar full of clear liquid. Duncan watches as the mixture spreads out into the fluid turning it a disgusting murky green colour. 

Yueh waved a hand over the glass and spoke a single word "Laekna." This caused soft golden sparks to fall from his fingertips and the mixture in the glass cleared up into a more appealing shade of green. 

"I will let you return to your quarters for now but you have to take it easy, light duties only, no training or going into the field." The Healer turned back to Duncan and Paul, the glass container in hand. After a brief moment of hesitation he handed the container to Paul. "I know it won't be easy with the fighting still going on but you are still healing. Take a mouthful of that three times a day until it's gone. If you cough up any blood, come and see me immediately. " 

His part finished, Healer Yueh left Duncan in Paul's capable hands and moved on to care for other patients in the main wing of the infirmary. 

Paul took his new responsibilities seriously and was intent on helping Duncan despite his insistence he can get changed by himself. "I've been injured before my boy, I'm perfectly capable of getting dressed."

Paul huffed, exasperated at the older man's stubbornness but turned his back on Duncan, allowing him enough privacy to change into clean clothes. Duncan buckled up his sword belt then turned to his Prince to get as caught up as he could about what he had missed while unconscious. "Give me the rundown as we walk?"

Paul only put up a token resistance, pointing out Healer Yueh's stern instructions for rest before he fell in step beside Duncan as he walked out the door. Duncan ribs and stomach only twinged a little, nothing he couldn't handle. He pushed the discomfort out of his mind and listened intently as Paul recounted the parts of the battle he had missed.

Some of it he already knew, having been present for the start of the main battle. The King led the largest portion of their army to attack the enemy head on. Meanwhile Paul had been given his first command, tasked to lead a platoon around the battlefield and flank the enemy forces making sure they couldn't sneak down the coast. They had just engaged in a group which had split away from the main battle, trying to sneak around and either flank the Caladan forces or infiltrate the city. They never did figure out which.

This was the point when Duncan had slipped away after he spotted another ship which had made its way down and was landing on the eastern coast. He had known that if those extra forces were given a chance they could corner Paul's platoon and overwhelm them. He had made the decision to leave his post and handle the new threat himself. It had worked, but he had almost died doing it. Paul seemed particularly keen on reminding Duncan of this fact, repeatedly throughout his report.

What Duncan paid the most attention to was the parts of the battle he had missed. The King had managed to turn away the main forces which had come ashore north of the city, the superior training given to the Caladan army meant that they quickly took control and decimated the enemy. Duncan felt a surge of pride at the men he had helped train, he knew Gurney would be feeling the same. 

Paul's own platoon fared equally well, the men selected for his command were personally selected by Duncan and Paul was a natural leader and tactician. Once the battle had finished Paul noticed Duncan's absence, noticed the ship which had moored further up the coast and had put two and two together. He had rallied his group and they rushed to the swordmaster's aid in the nick of time. 

Paul didn't say the words but Duncan could tell how his Prince felt upon seeing Duncan bleeding out on the cold stone. The presence he felt hovering over Duncan's body before he commanded Duncan to live. 

As Paul was going over the casualty numbers and plans for regrouping and driving out the remainder of the enemy forces they had reached Duncan's rooms. Paul not hesitating to follow him over the threshold to finish their conversation, setting the glass bottle on Duncan’s table. 

"Make sure you take that" Paul pointed his finger at Duncan, a stern look on his face. "I will be back in a few hours to make sure you listened.”

Duncan smiled and agreed to his Prince's demands before he ushered the younger man out the door. "I will take some now and I promise to rest".

Duncan watched as Paul stuck his head through and called out softly "Duncan? Are you awake? Can I come in?" Not waiting for an answer he snuck into the room on silent feet, stopping dead when he saw Duncan sitting there in bed watching him.

It wasn't until after Paul had left that Duncan realized that he never did ask about the talisman hanging from his sickbed. 

Duncan managed to fall asleep for a few more hours and when he finally startled awake the room was dark, the sun having set and the moon casting silver light across his bedroom floor. He rubbed his eyes and moved to sit up against the headboard, his sheets falling to gather around his waist, chest bare to the air. He was still trying to figure out what had woke him when another knock sounded at the door and it clicked open. 

Several minutes pass in silence, the only noise was the sound of the suspension lamp coming to life with their movements. Duncan used that time to assess the young man standing in front of him. Paul was acting strange, he seemed rattled, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, one of his ticks that persisted through his training and showed when he was feeling anxious.  He opened and closed his mouth several times but didn't speak a word.

Duncan felt concern swirl in his chest as he watched his prince, "What's wrong, my boy?"

Paul began pacing, back and forth between the door and Duncan's bed. "I have something I need to tell you but I'm not really sure how.”

Duncan shifted his legs so they hung over the edge of the bed, bracing himself on his palms, "You know you can tell me anythi-"

Duncan was stunned into silence as Paul suddenly climbed into his lap, slender fingers framing his face, soft lips meeting his. It took everything in Duncan to not kiss back, to place gentle hands on Paul's shoulders and push him back, sliding him back onto his thighs and putting some space between them. 

"Paul…." He didn't know what to say to Paul, how to fix this situation without hurting his Princes feelings.

Paul couldn't meet his eyes, looking down at his lap "Sorry, I just… I've been in love with you for years and after what happened, after you almost died… I couldn't stay quiet anymore."

Duncan couldn't decide what to feel about Paul's confession but knew he couldn't reciprocate, a whole list of reasons running through his head. He was a commoner, Paul the future King. Duncan was too old, Paul should experiment with people his own age. 

Paul was still talking, almost rambling as Duncan remained silent "I tried to kinda ease you into the whole thing, I've been leaving flowers but-"

Duncan cut in at that statement "Wait? That was you? Was the talisman from you as well?"

Duncan watched as Paul went wide eyed and flushed an appealing shade of pink across his nose. The young man nodded shyly, his teeth digging into his bottom lip, looking up at Duncan through his lashes.

Duncan fought the urge to kiss Paul again, barely, but he refused to be the one to corrupt the young Prince. "Paul…. We can't."

Duncan recognized the stubborn set to Paul's jaw and knew he wasn't going to make this easy. The Prince had always been stubborn, like his father.

"Give me one good reason why not? One good reason that has nothing to do with me being the Prince or you being my teacher."

Duncan smiled softly at the younger man "Your first time should be with someone your own age."

A look Duncan didn't recognize crossed Paul's face after he finished talking. "Duncan… do you think I'm a virgin?"

Duncan just blinked "Aren't you?" He had never once seen or heard rumour of Paul sneaking off with anyone. Not that he had been overly invested in acquiring any knowledge about Paul's personal sex life. But he did assume that when it finally did happen Paul would tell him, the way he told Duncan everything else.

Paul burst into laughter "Oh my sweet swordmaster, no I'm not a virgin." He shimmied off Duncan's lap and settled beside him on the bed.

Duncan swallowed down the surge of jealousy he felt as Paul explained about the budding relationship between himself and the young magik scholar they brought in a few weeks prior. Xander was of a similar age with Paul and had been sent from the Academy on Pancea to assist House Atreides after they had learned that the plague running rampant in the lower town was actually a curse of some sort. It was Xander that had ultimately discouvered the malicious idol to the twins GALAR and LOTNAIDI. The God and Goddess of Pestilence. To discouver that it was a plot from one of Caladan's enemies to weaken its people.

He was smart, knew his craft incredibly well and was always willing to answer any questions Paul had about the different schools of magik. They had been spending a lot of time together, especially after it was decided that Xander would stay on to assist the House Atreides prepare for war.

"It just kinda happened, he was tutoring me on some combat magik and…we…" Paul trailed off here, his cheeks turning pink at whatever he could read off of Duncan's face. He was admittedly adorable as he rambled about his time with the other young man.

Duncan hoped that the jealousy and longing he was still feeling was not showing on his face as he decided to lie, as gently as he knew how. "You know I love you Paul, and nothing will ever make me think less of you but.. I love you like a brother, not as a lover."

Paul wouldn't meet Duncan's eyes but Duncan could see him nod like he accepted the lie but Duncan could read the line of his shoulders, the way he was holding himself. He didn't believe Duncan's lie, not fully but he didn't argue and for that Duncan was thankful.

"You're not upset with me are you Duncan?" Paul's tone of voice let Duncan know he still had to tread incredibly carefully. It was a fine line to have Paul maybe not believe the lie, but accept it, and being unnecessarily cruel is in his rejection.

Duncan reached a hand out and ruffled the young Prince's hair, drawing a laugh out of Paul and his hands swatted Duncan away. The sound helped to unclench the mix of feelings swirling in the pit of Duncan's gut. It would take much more than an awkward love confession to ruin a decade of friendship.

"No my boy, I'm not upset," Duncan reassured Paul but couldn't help the teasing tone as he continued "I look forward to properly introducing myself to Xander however. Make sure he is treating you right."

The light teasing had the desired effect and after telling Duncan in no uncertain terms what would happen if he started to harass Xander he bid the older warrior goodnight, leaving Duncan alone with his thoughts. Duncan leaned back against his headboard and watched the play of moonlight across his floor, mind whirling. 

No matter what he had promised Paul, he would look into his new friend. He cannot have Paul but he can make sure he does not get taken advantage of. That he is happy with someone else. The fact that the someone else was a mage capable of providing Paul with another layer of protection was just a bonus. 

Duncan sent a silent prayer to his personal God CROGA and went back to sleep.

Header by me

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#kirstin's chronicles #dune #dune fanfic #dune fanfiction #paul atreides #duncan idaho #paul x omc #paul x duncan #atreidaho

[narcissusbrokenmirror]

i need to talk about Alex, Luke and Reggie and their families' dynamics.

We don't get a lot from the show apart from Luke and it's not that much either, when we think about it. But from Reggie and Alex? Crumbs of backstory. the references we got to their past from the show is that Reggie's parent were in a bad relationship and Alex's parent were homophobic. god bless the guy who decided to write books abt it bc i can't stress enough over not knowing abt their past.

So starting with Reggie, my favorite backstory, is that he had parents who were always fighting amd he also had a little brother, age not specified but i guess between 8-11, Steve admired Reggie and his band and Reggie kinda regretted not spending enough time w him bc of the band. idk thinking of Reggie as an older brother opens lot of possibilities for what his character would've become. also brings more of a reason why he's so goofy and lightheaded, it can be either a way to separate from, maybe, a figure of power for his brother, being held to a responsibility or something alike, i mean, none really knows how stuff were inside Reggie's house so there's no way to tell if they had been heavily neglected at some point. or maybe being optimistic and joyful was just the way he tried to find to make things lighter for his brother when he was around, maybe to his whole family when trying to keep them from starting a fight (we also dont know for how long reggie's parents have been fighting). either way, fascinates me.

Alex also intrigued me a little bit, but i liked to figure him out. I personally enjoy when fanfic writers make his parents religious or give him fear of coming out to his friends, but, just ain't real. From what I've read on the book, Alex's parents used to be supportive of the band and welcoming to his friends, they'd have sleepovers w the whole band, and be warm and welcoming. When Alex mentions being gay, he says he wouldn't sneak a guy he actually liked out of his window and wanted to bring this hypothetical guy through the front door like his older sister did w her boyfriends, this being the 90's its a pretty prideful statement for a gay teenager. But Kenny mentioned Alex is pride of himself and wouldn't hide it. So i don't think Alex got christian fever over his sexuality, neither did his parents. What i guess, is that Alex was the kid with "Cool Parents" that would let him be and do what he wanted, be supportive of him, Alex pretty much mentioned on the show he was always trustworthy (in rhetoric to Reggie never being believed as a kid). What also would explain how Alex can grow so confident of himself and expect to receive the same treatment his sister does. So the moment Alex came out, something he never took back, even when his parents didn't approved, it shifted the whole "modern cool parents" thing bc yeah, Alex can have a band, be a drummer (which is not everyone's favorite instrument to have at home), let his sister bring multiple boyfriends to their house, but if Alex wants to bring guys, he better do it far from their eyes. "do what you want, but not under my roof". Clearly, it affected him to have a family who was loving and supportive, just to find out that being gay was going to twist the way his parents saw and treated him like, and ofc that's not what Alex wanted, he wanted the warmth and the love he'd always received before. also, Alex being a young brother makes sense to why he's a little shit on the show.

Luke also has interesting background. Different from Alex, who had a family who supported his band (til they didn't anymore) and Reggie, who had a family who probably didn't cared, Luke had a family very much disapproving of his life dream, so much that i doubt they've met the boys personally, aside from Bobby bc he was Luke's oldest friend, since there's a moment on the book Alex asks where they are and its Luke's house, and they have been friends for years so its interesting Alex not knowing where Luke lives. i think Sunset Curve was just a part of his life that Luke didn't shared with his parents bc he knew it wouldn't be worth it. What doesn't mean Luke didn't wanted to share, he was trying to make it without his parents' support, getting a job to buy instruments and other stuff for example. And if Alex is not the religious link of the group, Luke definitely is, not only he makes mentions of Hell and Heaven, but his house has a huge cross on it, visible on the clip of Unsaid Emily, and i think that's why Luke, at the same time he doesn't want to talk of the past, is the one who feels more guilty about the way he left things with his mom. Boy got hard catholic guilt on his head even if Luke himself isn't really into religion.

I'm not gonna make myself long with Bobby, bc if Alex and Reggie left crumbs of backstory, Bobby left drops in the sun. but the book had some pretty cool details, he got three older brothers who are sport trifecta, and Bobby is the kid who only got to play in a band, he doesn't get a lot of attention from his parents and even Luke is his friend since they were kids and they started playing together, he also feels apart from the band, he also seems to care a lot about Luke since he wanted Luke to make up with his mom on the day of their show at the orpheum. So it does adds dimension to the character we see on the show.

#julie and the phantoms #mostly sunset curve #it fascinates me also when Alex's dad implies Luke is also queer when he got him sneaking out Alex's room #and how Luke didn't denied it. Neither Alex. #it bugged the hell outta me Alex being a 90's kid who was not religiously traumatized