#......i still feel so confused. the book is easier for me to process.

[whoslaurapalmer]

mannnnn nobody has a laugh like sydney greenstreet. I love his laugh so so much

[theealbatross]

Sebastian x Reader: i love you, it's ruining my life (One Shot)

Plot: Sebastian has the worst insomnia known to man and you are not dating him. Tags: none, fluff, slytherin!reader, bad english accent attempt by me, repressed feelings, unhealthy attachment, codependency, teenagers trying to process trauma together, mentions of nightmares, they are both 17 years old [A/N: FUCK JK ROWLING!!!!!!! Also I just needed to write something and somehow a depressed Slytherin boy was just the one to cure my insane writer's block. Enjoy!]

I am not dating Sebastian Sallow, is what you kept saying yet no one seems to ever believe you. Even Natty, bless her kind soul, gave you a look so incredulous as the words went out of your mouth that you couldn’t help but be confused yourself -- were you dating Sebastian?

“I’m not trying to be nosy, my friend. I’m just concerned.”

“About what?” This has been the third person this month with that same irritating expression on their face. Pity.

“I thought … you were always together that I just assumed there was … something.”

You blinked, trying not to let your face slip, afraid that your ever observant friend would read too much into each emotion.

“Well, there’s nothing. So you and the others can –”

“There are others?!”

You widened her eyes, telling Natty to drop it and she wisely did. “The rest of you can stop reporting his rendezvous to me. Understood?”

“There you are!”

Merlin, will the cruel gods of fate ever give you a break?

The deep voice from the door cut through half of the conversations in your table as Sebastian jogged towards you. “Morning, pet.”

He casually grabbed your head gently, pressing a kiss on top of it, before settling down by straddling the chair so he was facing you. “Hey Natty, got lost?”

It wasn’t unheard of for students to not stick to the assigned tables on their houses but it was still odd, especially for someone like Natty who much preferred the company of like-minded people. Always said that the quiet and whispers in the Slytherin table made her uneasy.

Natty looked from you, to him, to the arms that was hidden under the table but was no doubt placed on your waist, subtly but insistently pulling you closer. You silently pleaded for her to ignore it which she thankfully did with a sigh.

“Not at all, Sebastian. Just trying to keep our friend company before you undoubtedly steal her away for the day.”

He didn’t even pretend to be offended by the accusation, only chuckling good-heartedly. “You can be welcome to tag along just for today.”

“Wouldn’t want to intrude. And with the trouble the two of you get into I’d be grounded by my mother for the rest of my life.”

The three of them laughed at that. The conversation thankfully flowing easier and away from the initial topic. Once Ominis arrived and Poppy was called over it was like fifth-year again. The initial circle you had formed has always been a source of comfort, no longer having to have your guard up all the time especially as easy conversation flowed between each other.

“I got some new books for you, just got delivered an hour ago. We should read it tonight.”

You fed him a piece of bread in your hands, knowing that his growing appetite has not been satiated by the plate he made for himself but he would be too lazy to make a new one and would just rather take bits and pieces from your own. “Just for me, huh?”

He grabbed a tuft of grapes before feeding you one as well before he demolished the entire thing. You couldn’t help but giggle when he spat out a small branch that managed to sneak into his mouth.

“It’s that new muggle series you love, paid off one of Ominis’ servant to line for it so you wouldn’t have to sneak out of Hogwarts like I know you had planned to tonight.”

You could feel your face heating up at the fact that he knew you too damn well. “You know I don’t like you spending money on me, Sebastian.”

“Well, you’re gonna be reading it to me so technically I’m spending money for me.”

You gave him a look but he quickly evaded it by feeding you another pair of grapes.

Sebastian had been haunted by nightmares after last year’s events. Ones so bad that the nurse feared he would be a bit too dependent on sleeping potions at such a young age. Thankfully, the two of you had found a solution together, after a late night studying in the Undercroft reading your notes aloud hoping it would stick into your head a bit better – you had turned to find your companion snoring away beside you.

At first, the two of you thought it was the history lesson that put him right to slumber so you borrowed tons of history books in the library for him to read before he slept but an enchanted note later and you were dragging your sleepy self and a blanket out of your chambers as you read about the History of Magic in his bed.

It was that night that you had been eternally grateful that he had no other roommate but Ominis. Especially when you found out that Sebastian was apparently a horrible koala when asleep.

“That’s just –”

“What are you two whispering about?”

You actually jumped, pushing Sebastian away as if the soft voice behind them reminded you of how they had actually drifted closer than what was appropriate.

“Arieta,” Sebastian greeted her with a raised brow, seemingly confused why the Ravenclaw was this far off the room not even all that affected that his new girlfriend just caught him being a bit too comfortable with another girl.

“Sebby!” she shrieked prettily, quickly recovering and pulling on his arm. “We have History of Magic together, remember? You know I can’t survive that class without your shoulder to sleep on.”

She can hear Ominis choke on a laugh yet Arieta shot you a look like it was your fault.

“I, uh,” Sebastian turned to your table, now fully aware that everyone was staring at him with various expression on their faces. “Right, let’s go.”

Ever the gentleman, Sebastian was quick to grab the books in Arieta’s arm as she held on to his hand and dragged him towards the doors.

“Arieta, huh, wouldn’t have pegged her as territorial one,” Natty chuckled, you chucked a grape at her. “What? I am only speaking my mind. Might have to watch out for that one or she might just drag poor Sebastian away from –”

Just before she finished her sentence Sebastian came bounding down the path once again stopping just beside you, catching his breath. “Hey, you’re mine tonight, okay? No adventures.”

His wording left so much to be misinterpreted that even Poppy’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, damn near resembling those mooncalfs she loves so much.

"I stand corrected," Natty muttered.

“Sebby!” Arieta screamed at the end of the hallway.

Merlin’s beard.

“I’m coming!” He threw her an impatient look before holding on to your chin so you were looking at him and forcing you to nod. “No adventures.”

This time the embarrassment of the absolute mess that was unfolding before your unfinished breakfast have overwhelmed your brain that you could only nod with him.

“No adventures.”

Sebastian smiled, one of those real, bright ones that makes your body malfunction and your heart to stop beating. Pressing one last kiss on the top of your head and managing to wave to your shared friends he was off and gone through the double doors.

The entire table was left in silence and you had hoped they would let this go but Natty couldn’t give you that mercy as she cleared her throat.

“Well, now I got even more questions.”

You’re not dating Sebastian Sallow you just think about him a lot.

You weren’t as daft as the rest of them have probably assumed. You did think there was a lot more than friendship between Sebastian and you. But with all the things that the two of you had been through it was difficult to pinpoint what it exactly was aside from their unusually intense loyalty to each other.

Was it a trauma bond? Was it just their kindred spirits refusing to let the one soul who understood them go? Did everything that they went through, the secrets they keep, the curses they threw to protect each other become the bloody ribbon that held the unhealthy attachment they had to each other? It could be love. But it could be a whole lot more complicated than that.

That’s what they were. They were complicated.

After the nightmare that was your fifth year the two of you had kept to yourselves with Ominis in tow, trying to keep as low as profile as possible and give your poor professors a break. With your newfound infamy as the ‘Hero of Hogwarts’ (blergh) and the dark secret you three were desperately keeping for Sebastian, the best you could hope for was to blend in with the rest of the nameless students in Hogwarts.

That agreement got shot into hell when your dear friend Sebastian Sallow proved to be one of the best beaters in Hogwarts’ long, long history. It was a dare that exploded in your own face to try out and irritate Imelda but when he had accidentally proven to be a bit too good at it their mutual friend clutched at him with her demanding claws and put him through the ringer until he got spat out decent enough to be one of the soldiers to secure the honor of their noble house and win the Quidditch cup this year.

Piled on top of that development was his connection to the Gaunt family, the Hero of Hogwarts, and the rumor of his hefty trust fund waiting for him the moment he turns 18 – Sebastian Sallow, just as the gods intended, became the most eligible bachelor of his age.

And thus your hell begun.

The silent charm he always had with him grew with his stature. He clearly enjoyed the attention after having hid his pretty bloody face behind dangerous books all year last year that it was almost like he was compensating for the hearts he could’ve broken. Every moon it was a different girl looped around his arms and every month it was a different friend reporting to you that your presumed ‘boyfriend’ was found snogging a goddamn Gryffindor in the Three Broomsticks.

It was annoying, confusing, and you were getting sick of it.

“Over here.”

Before you could find the source of the voice you knew all too well, a door had already opened and you were quickly pulled into an empty room – well, room was being generous as it was more of a storage space than anything.

“Sebastian!”

“Shh,” you gawked when his opened palm muffled your voice as he firmly presses it on your mouth. The unmistakable sounds of footsteps and a softer call of his name echoed the hallway outside the door. When the footsteps faded and disappeared, he had the nerve to give you a lopsided grin that turned your face red in irritation. Definitely in irritation.

Nothing quite like being forced to face the boy who had been running around your head all day.

“Sorry bout that, pet,” he chuckled, leaning on the wall an arms-length way from you. “I’m not too good with break-ups, especially when they say no.”

“Must be horrifying,” you sniped shortly, also pressing your back on the nearest wall to give you as much space as possible – it would just be absolutely mortifying to faint because your heart was beating too fast it was like it was trying to escape. “Are you gonna explain why you’ve kidnapped me in this dingy room?”

“Come on now, don’t be short with me. I just wanted to hang out with you ‘s all.”

“You want to hang out with me …. Inside a closet?”

He shrugged, “I never see you anymore these days.”

Ah, the nightmares must be back. She tries to swallow down the bitter taste in her mouth.

“That’s not my fault, Sebastian.”

At least he looked guilty. And absolutely miserable.

In the few weeks you had taken your eyes off him it would seem he had another growth spurt. Do boys just not stop growing ever? Looking up at him was starting to get painful. Plus, all those drills they run to prepare for every game had done nothing but well for his physique. You couldn’t help but run your eyes to his broad chest and shoulders before you caught yourself and nearly screamed in horror.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Rough hands grabbed one of yours. He bent his knees so he could look in your eyes as you now outright refuse to meet his, in anger for the absolute shit friend he had been the past months or in embarrassment that you so casually checked him out you’re not quite sure. “I … I got distracted but I missed you. You know I prefer your company over any other.”

Those damned brown eyes, not even the poor light in the windowless room could dull its effect on you. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

Your harsh words did not match with the growing smile on your face you failed to suppress. He mirrored your grin, “Do you still have classes?”

You shook your head.

He damn near vibrated in glee. Merlin, you did miss him.

“Let me steal you away.”

In a flash, Sebastian grabbed a hold of your hand to survey the hall one last time before dragging you out of the room and into the nearest Floo. You barely caught the surprise and anger in his ex-girlfriend’s eyes as she gawked by the stairs before you got swallowed up by a green flash of powder.

“Boathouse.”

You’re not dating Sebastian Sallow because this is definitely not a date.

You wouldn’t think the Boathouse would be a romantic place but with the lack of students, the dimming sun and a gorgeous boy leading you in the inside of it for privacy – you couldn’t help but think that anyone who would pass by would be well within their right to think you had become another notch in Sebastian Sallow’s belt.

You’re not sure how you feel about that. A greater witch would’ve been offended but maybe you’re no better than the knots in his belt.

“Sit here.”

Sebastian spread out a worn-out black robe on the ground, patting on it expectantly. Before you could do it yourself, he was already kneeling beside you and removing your shoes and socks. The intimate act forced you to hold your breath, making sure you controlled your face so your jaw doesn’t fall to the floor as he slowly pulled on your socks, gently plopping them on the edge and letting the Black Lake’s water tickle your feet as they dangled.

When you were settled, he nonchalantly laid his head down on your lap. Gods, help you.

“Comfortable, aren’t you?”

He made a dramatic noise of satisfaction, even wiggling in your lap to show his assent. A giggle slipped out of your mouth at the absolute gall of him, your hands naturally falling in his soft, thick, brown hair to play with it.

“What had you been up to, pet?” he mumbles, eyes never leaving your face although you find yourself unable to do the same as you opted to look around the architecture of the Boathouse you rarely visit.

“Nothing much,” you shrugged. “Although I did find that swimming in the Forbidden Forest’s Lake was surprisingly relaxing.”

He hummed, not even surprised at your little antics when you leave his line of sight. The boy had definitely pulled you out of worse situations than roaming around the Forbidden Forest. “You should take me some time. Merlin knows relaxing is what I need.”

A scoff escaped your mouth as you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, right after I duel your newest girlfriend for the honor of getting to take you out.”

He poked your side at that, “As entertaining that would be you know all you have to do is send me an owl and I’d trek up to Maurenweem for you.”

Your face clearly showed you didn't believe him and he frowned. Carefully, you ran a finger in-between his brows where a frown formed to relax it.

At this angle you could see the toll the sleepless nights he must’ve been having had on him. If the bags on his eyes was any indication it must’ve been a few nights now. You ran your hands on his hair earning you a satisfied hum as he dangled his hand on the edge of the ledge to play with the water below.

“When was the last time you slept?”

He popped one eye open but your gentle touch proved too much as he closed it again with an even longer hum. “A few hours last night.”

“You should’ve woken me up.”

He gently shook his head, grabbing your free hand so he can hold it by his stomach.

“I didn’t wanna bother you.”

“Oh please, Sebastian.”

He chuckled at that, gripping on your hand tightly as he let out a heavy breath. “The nightmares … I thought it’s been better. Barely had any a few months ago. But now it’s just gotten worse.”

The confession broke your heart. Sebastian was not a vulnerable person; despite his usually easy and cheerful demeanor he was quick to wall himself in at the first sign of trouble. You would bet galleons of gold he still feels horrible of all the things he put you through and it was truly in desperation when he had called you over to help him through his insomnia. Which was also why you had welcomed the responsibility with open arms.

“Care to tell? Is it still about Anne?”

His estranged twin has been forefront of most of his darkest nightmares but he shook his head again and for that you were thankful he was spared that at least. “Solomon? Ominis?”

He opened his eyes; it was full of overflowing guilt and fear. And when it seemed he could no longer keep it to himself he sighed, “It’s about you. That’s the reason why I couldn’t …”

The revelation had your blood freezing. “What?”

He sat up, now facing you and taking both of your hands. “I’m only telling you this because you are my best friend and to remind you that none of this is ever your fault. You haven’t done a thing wrong, in fact, I can’t think how I would’ve gotten past any of this if it wasn’t for you.”

You held on to his hands tighter. “Sebastian, you’re scaring me.”

He shook his head, pulling you closer as if to comfort. Why was he comforting you when it was him who had been terrorized by this dream version of you. It was irrational to be mad but how could you not be when apparently you had become one of his problems while you were simultaneously desperately trying to fix it.

A palm on your cheeks pulled you out of your self-loathing.

“All of my dreams … it was of the people I love leaving me. Anne never forgiving me for the rest of my life, Ominis turning me in …”

“Oh, Sebastian,” you buried a sob on the crook of his neck, your hand roping around his back so you can rub on his back comfortingly while he lets everything out.

“And … and every time it happens my brain drives itself insane thinking of plans of what I would do if those nightmares came true. That’s the reason why I couldn’t sleep.” You looked up at him through your lashes but never leaving your spot even as he brings your legs out of the water and over his until you were in his lap.

“But then … they turned to you.” His voice dropped so low you almost shivered. “And for the life of me I just couldn’t … see an out of that. If I lost you – If you gave up on me I … I think I’d turn myself in Azkaban myself.”

“Sebastian I would never –”

“I know that,” he whispered. “But I still can’t – I can’t let it go. I can’t let go of these doubts and fear.”

This time he rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “That’s why I keep hanging out with all those girls.”

You raised your head in confusion, taking a better look at him.

“I thought if I loved you less, my nightmares would be kinder.”

The breath got caught in your throat. What is he – does he mean –

“But I couldn’t do that either,” He sighed, rubbing a hand on his face, clearly frustrated. “So I’ve decided. I’d rather go insane, let the nightmares do their worst because I am done pretending I don’t love you. I’m done avoiding you, I’m done pretending you aren’t the only light in my life. I’m done. And I love you.”

A fully grown crying Mandrake could drop from the sky and you don’t think you would’ve heard it over your own heart. You could barely comprehend anything but that his grip on your waist was so tight it was almost painful and that his pleading, terrified eyes was in the perfect angle that the late dying sun made it look like it was in a golden fire.

And that Sebastian Sallow … is in love with you. Just as madly as you were with him.

“I’m not forcing you into anything. I needed to let it out. If you want, I fully intend to formally court you until –”

“I love you.” You could no longer bear to put him in such misery. As long as you were alive, he would not question the adoration you’ve felt for him that just kept growing since the first day he had taken you to Hogsmeade. “I love you, Sebastian.”

Just for a moment there was quiet then he burst out laughing. “Thank you, darling." His body visibly shuddered as he sighed in relief, burying his face in your chest. "I’ve already planned to throw myself off the highest cliff in Hogwarts if this had gone south.”

You wrapped your hands around his neck, accepting the gentlest kisses on your neck. “Don’t say that. I plan to be your girlfriend for a very long time.”

His body shook from laughing, this time a kiss under your jaw, “Not that long I hope?”

You frowned, pulling away from him, though his unrelenting hold prevented much space to be in between the two of you. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” his thumbs rubbed circles on your thigh, now seemingly shy. “If all goes well, I had hoped to be engaged by the time we graduate. You won’t be just my girlfriend then.”

"You bastard," You gawked, laughing at his proclamation. The happiness was overflowing in your chest that you couldn’t help but just squeeze him into you hoping maybe that your souls would fuse with each other.  “You haven’t even kissed me yet and you’re already pre-proposing?”

He licked his lips, his sleepless eyes now full of vigor. “Ah, we gotta fix that, don’t we, pet?”

“We’re dating.”

Natty sighed in relief.

Poppy clapped.

Garreth passed Imelda a silver coin.

"Excuse me," Ominis muttered, standing up. “I'm gonna request a room change to the Headmaster.”

[biteofcherry]

How would enforcer!Steve handle his girl that is a little weepy, emotional mess from her period? 🥺😭

No but the way I can burst into tears at the drop of a dime and at the most ridiculous thing when I’m on my blood fail lollll. 🫣

Okay, so I know you asked for enforcer!Steve reacting to sweet Cherry's period suffering. He would be the most doting, spoiling and caring. He probably at times would feel a little helpless, like when you cry from ice cream melting too fast, but overall he'd be quite amazing. However, my brain wanted to think more about a different Steve facing your emotional distress during period 🤷‍♀️

Which is why I bring you the dark mafia bastard versus your period tears, that no one asked for 😂 Sorry!

Touch The Darkness

dark mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader

warnings: Steve being a cocky bastard as usual; annoyingly perceptive too; some period emotional mess

The thing Steve's face does when you suddenly burst into tears over nothing is like a tiktok on acting.

He goes from shock (his eyes widening, nose scrunching slightly) to confusion (frown marring his forehead, corners of his mouth twitching), then through a process of putting together smallest pieces of information and observation.

Finally, he sighs as his face relaxes into this neutral, ridiculously handsome state.

You almost cry from it all over again, because you really like how handsome Steve is, all the while you're still convinced that you should be hating every fiber of his being for eternity.

But since he went after you to your little hiding place and demanded to know what's wrong, you tell him. You hiss the word period and give him a murderous look that suggests he is the one responsible for all women suffering monthly bleeding and pain.

A second later you almost cry again, because Steve doesn't look shocked anymore.

Steve doesn't even cringe when he says the word period. He doesn't look bothered or disgusted by it, which you find quite annoying.

It would be so much easier if the bastard was one of those idiot males, who can't even say the word and they run away at the thought of it.

Instead, Steve tilts his head slightly to the side, scans you from head to toe and back again.

"Then why the fuck are you curled up here and not in bed?" He nods at the old armchair in the library nook, which you never before used, even when reading. It's more of a decoration than comfortable to actually sit in it.

You don't answer him, only glare and pull the two layers of blankets up to your nose.

You're not going to tell him that you love the comfort of the pristine, expensive covers on your marital bed and that while you never minded it at your previous home, you were kind off scared of bleeding on them.

Which is what started this whole thing of you storming into the library - wrapped in two blankets that trailed after you like a train. Because you were about to hide in bed, most excited to find comfort and relax in the lovely soft, clean sheets, when a flash of image of your blood staining it had you bolting out.

It's ridiculous. You never normally cared for such things. Sheets could be washed and changed.

But somehow, this time, you ended up crying and leaving the bedroom.

Steve seems to read your like an open book, despite your complete silence.

"Princess," he sighs, "I've seen plenty of blood. I've been covered in blood an brain matter of my enemies more times than you imagine. Doesn't bother me. Especially not my wife's natural reason for it."

You're about to snap at him that his sensitivities weren't your concern at all, when he continues:

"And the sheets can be changed as many times as needed. I've already ordered three more sets in that cream and gold shade you like the most."

"You know nothing," you glower, but you can feel the heat filling your face.

How the hell did he know that? It's not like you said to him anything on the topic of something so silly like finding the covers pretty and lovely. Which you do.

Steve's mouth curls into a smirk as he leans forward and braces hands on the backrest of the armchair, on both sides of your head.

"Don't think I didn't notice how you curl into a cozy burrito when the cream covers are on and that you stay a little longer in bed. And-" his face inches closer, warm breath fanning your cheek- "that you more often provoke me to have sex outside of bed, so the sheets stay clean longer."

"I do not provoke you to have sex!" You burst, but Steve only laughs as if you told the funniest joke.

Next thing you know, he's scooping you up into his arms - bundled in blankets and all. He carries you effortlessly, not caring for the few protests that you hiss at him.

He takes you to the bedroom and slowly puts you down on your feet on the floor. He rips the blankets away from you then lifts you up again, placing you in bed. On those soft, fresh smelling sheets.

"Now, you want ice cream or something salty? Or maybe an orgasm or two to help with the cramps?"

[crazyunsexycool]

Between the pages of a journal

Pairing: Stucky x 40s!Reader

Summary: You had been in a relationship with Steve and Bucky up until the time they went off to war only to lose them both. Years later when Steve and Bucky have reunited the receive the letters and journals you had written. Through them they learn about your life without them.

word count: 6.0k

Warnings: character death, the blip/snap, implied domestic violence, major angst, some fluff... let me know if I forgot something.

A/N: Not really sure how I feel about the ending but over all I loved writing this and I hope you like it too.

Steve stood with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands as he looked down at the slightly dirty headstone. One that sat towards the back of the small cemetery with your name on it. His fingers trace over your name after placing the flowers down. The date of your death mocks him. It was the day he woke up. The day that he had come back to life was the day yours had ended. In fact the difference had only been a few hours from the time that you closed your eyes for the last time and the time he opened his. 

On good days Steve was grateful for that. You didn’t have to watch him walk back into your life looking as he did all those years ago while you were stuck in a bed, withering away. Wishing you had been able to live the life they had both promised you. On bad days he hated he didn’t get to say goodbye. But he had already been through the process of seeing someone he loved die when Bucky fell off the train. He wasn’t sure he would be able to do that with you. It had been you who begged him not to go. The fear in your eyes when Bucky got his orders still haunts him and it doubled when he told you he had been accepted. Now all that Steve has is the headstone with your name on it to grieve for both of his greatest loves. And he did it often.

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

Hope. 

Something Steve hadn’t felt in a long time. It bloomed in his chest the longer he looked at his long lost love. But just as quickly it faded.

“Bucky?” Steve stood in the middle of the street. Chaos erupting all around as he looked at the brunette with confusion and concern. 

“Who the hell is Bucky?” 

Just as quickly as he was there, Bucky was gone. Steve tried to look for him but there was no use. He had been arrested along with Nat and Sam. 

If there was one single word to describe Steve Rogers at the moment it would be determined. As much as it hurt that his oldest friend and lover didn’t recognize him. Steve knew he had to save Bucky. If not for him than for you. It was one of the promises he made to you the morning he left. He would keep Bucky safe and they would come back home to you. At least now he could keep half of the promise. 

The next time Steve would see Bucky it would be in a helicarrier. Blow by blow Steve tried to remind Bucky of who he was, what they meant to each other. In the end Bucky walked away after saving Steve. Still it was better knowing he was out and free than knowing that he was still under hydra’s control. 

It would take some time but eventually Steve would find Bucky once again. With time and help, Bucky was free of hydra’s control and they slowly rebuilt their relationship. Soon Bucky began to remember you as well. 

Now Steve didn’t feel so lost or so alone. The ache of loss was still there but it was made easier when he was able to turn in bed and find Bucky asleep next to him. 

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

There were many things Bucky and Steve needed to adjust to in the modern times they were now living in. Being able to love each other without fear of being persecuted was a liberating experience. So they found themselves walking hand in hand on a beautiful Saturday afternoon through a small park in Brooklyn. The same park that the three of you frequented when you didn’t have anywhere else to go. 

You always packed a picnic and your journal, Bucky always had a new book to read out loud and Steve always had his sketchbook and pencils. There was one specific tree the three of you preferred to sit under. It was close to a small pond with the best shade and it was surrounded by bushes which afforded you the privacy the three of you craved.

 While to the outside world it looked like you were being chaperoned by Steve while on a date with Bucky, the reality was that you were dating them both. This little corner of the park allowed the three of you to be free to love, touch and kiss each other as you wished. 

It was this tree that provided cover for the three of you so long ago that Steve and Bucky came to look for now. Where Bucky carved your initials in the trunk within a heart. They hoped the tree was still there and they were gladly surprised that it was, initials included. The only difference though was the fact that there was a wrought iron bench in the once cleared space. Steve and Bucky make their way over.

“Y/N, would have loved to have a bench here.” Steve commented as he sat down. 

Bucky hummed in agreement as he inspected the small plaque screwed into the armrest. 

“Steve, look at this.” 

The blond leans over to look at the inscription. His breath catches in his throat.

‘Til the end of the line. 

A couple of tears hit the small plaque. Steve’s chin rests on Bucky’s shoulder and his arm wraps around the latter’s waist. They both just take a moment to look at it and appreciate that you had taken time and money to have this placed here in their honor. It felt like fate mocked them now that it was them that used this bench to remember you. For the remainder of their time in that park Steve and Bucky talk about their past, especially about you. 

“Remember when she chased Tommy Phillips down the street with a broom?” Steve chuckled but it took Bucky a moment before he smiled.

“He kept following her home, right? Always tried to ask her out whenever we weren’t there to walk with her.” 

“She ran right by me and only stopped because that cop was on the corner.”

Their smiles fade after a moment. 

“I wish she were here. She would definitely love all this shit.” Bucky said as he waved his hand around vaguely. 

Steve moved closer and gave Bucky a quick chaste kiss on the cheek before resting his head on Bucky’s shoulder. The blond took a deep breath before looking up at his love through his lashes. 

“It’s rude to stare.” 

“Well it’s not my fault you’re handsome.” Steve’s compliment makes Bucky blush. 

“There’s something I want to talk to you about.” 

“What is it?” 

“I think it’s time we go see her. I know she’ll want to see you.” 

Bucky looked up at him with a pained expression.

“What if she hates me?”

“She would never. She’s called me everyday since she heard you were alive.” 

“Ok, we’ll go.”

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

“Are you sure I look ok?” Bucky asked as the couple stood in front of a door waiting for someone to answer their knocks. 

“You look great baby, and trust me she’ll just be happy to see you.” 

Steve had cupped Bucky’s face with his hands and leaned in to give him a kiss. 

“What the fuck is going on here?” 

They parted at the voice.

“Hey, watch your mouth.” 

“I can say the same about you James.”

A staring contest happened until Bucky looked down.

“I’ve missed you, Becca.” Bucky said as he looked at his younger yet older sister. She was shorter and her hair was fully gray. The wrinkles were evidence of the time that had passed but the mischievous glint in her eyes told a different story. 

She opened her arms and her brother gladly accepted the embrace. 

It had been a shock to Bucky to learn that he had one living relative. Well one living sister, he of course knew of the kids all three of his sisters had but he couldn’t seek them out. Mostly for safety but truly he kept his distance because of his guilt. Who would want someone like him in their family? 

When they finally pull away from each other in a hug that felt that lasted years and seconds at the same time, Becca cupped Bucky’s cheek softly. Her thumb moved back and forth on his cheek as he leaned into her touch. This time her eyes were full of tears and relief.

“I’ve missed you too. Now come in, we have so much to talk about.” She had grabbed Bucky’s hand like she did when she was younger and they had to cross the street. 

They made their way into Becca’s cozy living room and sat down. Steve took the armchair while Bucky and Becca sat together on the couch. The latter started telling both of them everything they missed after they had disappeared, from meeting her late husband to her children and grandchildren. There were tears and laughs exchanged. 

“I think we should head out Becs. But I’ll come by again soon.” Bucky promised as they all got up and headed towards the door. 

“You’re both welcome anytime.” 

They stop at the door, Bucky and then Steve hug Becca. Before the door is opened Becca speaks up again.

“Oh I can’t believe I almost forgot. I have something for you.” Becca shuffled along into the hallway and opened a door to a closet. “I’ll need your help Buck.” 

He walks up behind her and she points towards two boxes high up on a shelf. Bucky pulls the first one down and hands it over to Steve before grabbing the second one. 

“What’s in here?” Steve asks, his curiosity piqued.

“Letters and journals. They all belonged to Y/N. She wrote the letters whenever she missed you and you know she wrote in her journals all the time.”

Bucky and Steve looked at each other and then back at Becca.

“Why did you keep them?” 

“Because she asked me too. The day she passed, I was with her and she asked me if I could hold on to them. Maybe someone would want to know about the love she had for both of you. It broke my heart when it was announced you were back.” She turned to Steve. “She would have loved to see you one last time.” 

“What happened to her?” 

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask earlier.” 

“We never stop thinking about her but it hurts to know she isn’t here anymore.” Steve says with a sad smile.

“When we were informed that you were both gone she was a wreck. Ma forced her to move in with us so that we could be there for her. She would stay up in your room for hours just writing. We could hear Y/N crying for hours on end. This was just her way of coping.”

Both men thanked her again and they were gone. On their way to their shared apartment in Brooklyn they didn’t really talk, each of them holding a box under their arm. It was heavier than anything they’ve carried in the past. It was all that was left of you.

They didn’t know it yet but their heart would break with every single letter or entry of your journal they read.

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

March 10th, 1945

My love,

I received your letter last night. I’m so sorry you had to go through that alone. You know Bucky wouldn’t blame you, and neither do I. But please, if not for yourself than for me, take care of yourself. I don’t care that you have that serum, don't do anything reckless. We’ve already lost Bucky, I don’t know if I’d be able to live knowing I lost you too. 

I know you think the Barnes’ hate you but they don’t, they’re just as worried about you as they were about their son. They know how much we love Bucky and they can’t wait for you to come back home. 

I love you so much. I can’t wait to see you again.

Love, 

Y/N

P.S. I’m with you til the end of the line.

Steve tried and failed to swallow the lump in his throat, the tears won as they slowly trailed down his cheek and onto the aged paper. It was a response to the letter he had sent you, telling you about Bucky’s death. He felt so much guilt then, still did from time to time. Once Bucky was free of hydra’s hold he reassured Steve he wasn’t to blame. 

Steve was sure you’d blame him too. But the return to sender stamp with the date on the envelope the letter had gotten to him too late. It was just a day after he had crashed the plane into the ocean. Now decades later you gave him peace. Somehow he felt that it wasn’t fair. 

That night Bucky held Steve close. Placing soft kisses on his cheek and whispering sweet nothings in his ear. 

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

Normally when they didn’t have missions or early training both men loved to stay in bed, pretend the time they were living in wasn’t real, that you’d walk in through the door at any moment and take your place in between them. That your lips would search for theirs and your hands would roam their bodies as gently but demanding as they did before. 

This time when Steve woke up the spot next to him was empty. He got up and walked toward the living room, the closer he got the more he could hear small sobs and sniffles. When he rounded the corner he found Bucky sitting in the middle of the room. Letters and journals sat open around him. Bucky was currently reading a journal and when he heard Steve’s footsteps he looked up. His eyes were rimmed red, it was obvious he had been there a while. 

“What are you reading?” 

“Nothing.” Bucky held the notebook close to his chest. 

“If it’s nothing then I should be able to read it too.” 

Bucky shook his head as his grip on the journal tightened. He averted his eyes when Steve sat beside him and held his hand out. Reluctantly the brunette moved to hand the notebook over but stopped. 

“You have to remember she was grieving when she wrote it.” 

May 3rd, 1945

 What did I do to deserve this? We were supposed to be planning the rest of our lives. Now I have to plan two funerals. The only thing in those matching empty coffins was my heart. 

What am I supposed to do now? Everything I had planned was with Steve and Bucky. 

 I hate not knowing what comes next and I hate them for making me love them. How could they do this to me? How could they leave me alone?

Steve put the journal down and sighed. He remembers going to the cemetery and finding the headstone that was being removed with his name on it, the one to his left was Bucky’s. He’d never allowed himself to put too much thought into what that must have been like for you. Mostly because he would break his own heart thinking about you mourning them alone. He knew it wasn’t fair and there was nothing that he could do to make it right. 

After that day they became obsessed with your writing. There were years worth of it but they decided to pace themselves. Instead of sitting down and reading for hours they instead decided to read one letter and one journal entry a day. 

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

July 4th, 1945

Dear Stevie,

Happy birthday my Love. I miss you so much but I find some comfort in knowing that at least you and Bucky are together somewhere, hopefully looking down on me. I went to the park today for the first time since you both went off to war. It’s not the same without you here but it was a beautiful day, you would have liked it.  

I signed up for an art class and it went as well as you would expect. Everything at my station, except the canvas had paint on it. Even my dress. But I think you’d be proud that I went for it. The little painting I managed to make is hanging up in the living room next to yours. If only we had convinced Bucky to paint something I would have a perfect set. 

I’ll never stop loving either of you.

Y/N

P.S. I’m with you til the end of the line.

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

Through missions and long days of training recruits, both men carried some of your writing with them. As time went by they noticed your shift from grieving to trying to survive. It was a journey for them reading your struggles in your everyday life. Steve and Bucky would be lying if they said they didn’t have a favorite letter or journal entry. There were some that reminded them of the happy young woman they had fallen for. Those were the ones they carried with them. 

****

Bucky had been through a difficult mission. He had been confronted by his past again and he was putting his walls up as he sat away from the rest of the team on the jet. Some of the others tried to talk to him but he just kept quiet and his eyes fixated on the wall ahead of him. Sam quietly walked up to him and placed an envelope on the seat next to him and walked away. That caught Bucky’s attention and he turned to see his name in your handwriting. He picked it up and opened the envelope as carefully as he could until he was able to retrieve the piece of paper out. 

August 25th, 1946

Dear Jamie,

I took the girls to Coney Island today. I know they wished you could have been here with us. Becca and Elizabeth finally convinced Mary to get on the cyclone. It reminded me of when you made Stevie go on and he threw up afterward.

 They had a great time. Maybe next time I’ll try to win something for them at one of those game booths but I’m not as good at them as you.

It was nice to be with them. They’ve grown so much in such a short time. You’d be so proud at how well they’re doing. Elizabeth has started reading all of your books and Mary is starting to like science more. But Becca looks the most like you and she’s taking the role of protective big sister very seriously (wonder where she got that from?). I promise to keep an eye on them since they like getting into trouble from time to time. 

I love you so much,

Y/N

P.S. I’m with you til the end of the line.

Bucky smiled as he imagined poor little Mary on the Cyclone. Then his smile got slightly bigger as he recalled the day you had mentioned. You had been so mad at him for making Steve get on. But it didn’t take much to get on your good side again. 

Bucky finally looked back up, his eyes meeting Sam’s. He nodded in a silent thanks to his teammate.

 It was no secret amongst the Avengers that both men had been in love and dated the same woman at the same time. No one really said anything, except the occasional joke from Tony. Sam and Nat took it upon themselves to ask them questions about you, especially when they seemed to be having a hard time at work. At the mention of your name they could see how the super soldier’s demeanor would instantly change. 

Their shoulders would drop, a small smile would appear on their lips but it was the sense of longing Nat and Sam saw in their eyes that really let them know you meant more to them than being just some girl from their past.

~~~~~~~~

They had been more than halfway through your journals and letters when they finally found another interesting entry. There was both a sense of relief and a bit of jealousy as they read it.

June 18th, 1950 

I’ve met someone. I’m still not sure how I feel about it but he asked me out on a date. Johnny Richards is his name and he seems kind. Becca has tried to make me say yes that Bucky would want me to move on but I’m not so sure he would, ha! He’d probably pout and cross his arms over his chest and give me his puppy dog eyes to convince me to not go out with him. 

Steve looked up to find Bucky sitting exactly how you had described him and he smiled. 

I think I’m going to say yes though. He’ll never be Steve or Bucky but I think I deserve to find some type of happiness. We’ll just have to see how the first date goes. 

They read the rest of that journal quickly. Your entries talked about how your dates with Johnny were going but mostly they compared him to them. Steve and Bucky weren’t even sure you realized that you were even doing it. With everything Johnny would do for you, you would write down how Steve and Bucky would have done it instead. They found it odd however that the journal was left incomplete. It prompted them to start looking through both boxes again only to come up empty handed. The one thing they did realize was that journal entries picked up in a new notebook with the year 1952. 

“That’s almost two years missing.” Bucky finally said after rechecking everything. A sinking feeling in his chest the longer they searched only to find nothing. 

“We can ask Becca tomorrow. We should get some rest.” 

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning both men head over to Becca’s home hoping to get some answers. However when she opens the door she isn’t surprised to see them. She dreaded the conversation she was going to have with them but she still ushered Steve and Bucky into her living room. 

“What happened to Y/N between mid 1950 and 1952?” Bucky asked, not bothering to sit down. He feared he already knew the answer.

Becca sighed as she reached into the pocket of her robe and produced another letter. She held it out for Bucky to grab. “You should sit.” Is all she said.

December 24th, 1951

Mr. Barnes

Please help me. He keeps hurting me and I don’t think I’ll survive the next time.

Y/N

The writing was sloppy and in the corner there was a faded brown spot. Through tear filled eyes Bucky looked at it closer. 

“Is this blood? Becca, is this her blood?” He looked up at his sister with rage and a pain in his chest nothing would ever be able to get rid of. 

Bucky and Steve had sacrificed their life only for them to find out that their girl had been hurt and they weren’t there to protect her. They hated themselves. Steve more than Bucky because Bucky had been drafted, he didn’t have much of a choice but Steve? Steve had done everything he could to get into the army. He left you alone and for what? 

“When daddy read that letter he was enraged. Called up some old army buddies and they handled it. But Y/N, she was broken in more ways than one. When they got to the house he had beaten her so badly she could barely move. She was in the hospital throughout the new year. When she was released we brought her home again. Then she never left. Y/N took care of Ma and daddy ‘til the day they died.” 

Steve was fully sobbing now. No matter what he would have done, one of the people he loved would end up hurt. If he hadn’t  signed up for the experiment with Erskine, you wouldn’t have been hurt like this but Bucky would still be in with hydra. 

“You can’t blame yourselves.” Becca sighs. “If she could see you now, see that you’re alive and together, that you saved Bucky from those monsters she would be so happy.”

“She suffered the rest of her life because of us. Was she ever truly happy after this?” 

Becca looked away from her brother with a small frown on her face. That was all the confirmation they needed to know that you had never found happiness again. They left without another word to Becca or each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve and Bucky didn’t speak for a while. Anger rolled off of them in droves. The issue was that neither of them knew who that anger was directed at. Was it at themselves or each other? The war, the draft, the serum, or the son of a bitch who dared put his hands on you. 

Their relationship suffered, missions almost failed, they were more reckless than usual and it went on like that for weeks. There was no lecture from anyone on the team that could make them see that what they were doing would get them or their teammates killed. 

Steve and Bucky had one moment. A single moment when they realized that they weren’t to blame. They apologized and forgave each other for being cold and distant. It’s not what you would have wanted. Just as they were getting back on track Thanos happened and Steve lost Bucky all over again. 

~~~~~~~~~~

5 years later

The team had one chance and they took it. They defeated Thanos. Now Steve has another. He checks himself over again and smoothes out his hair. The day was beautiful just how you said in your letter. Everyone was already celebrating the 4th of July. But as Steve stepped out of the alleyway all he could think about was the conversation he’d he’d with Bucky before he left on his mission to return the stones.

“Don’t do anything stupid until I come back.” Steve said with a smirk.

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” Bucky replied as he brought Steve in for a hug. 

Steve pulls back slightly only to connect his lips with Bucky’s. 

“Make sure you find her and make her happy. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be alright.” 

“Don’t worry Buck. Everything will be alright.” Steve smiles before heading up to the platform. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too, Bucky.” With that final word Steve disappears.

Now here he was just a block away from the park he’d frequented when you were all together. All of the stones were back in place all he needed to do was find you. And that he did. You were sitting on the bench here and Bucky frequented. All of your attention was on the letter you were writing. Steve could recite it from memory now. 

He took a moment to admire your form. You were wearing his favorite dress. The one he bought for your birthday right before he left for the war. Your hair was pinned back the way you loved. Steve smiled, you were more beautiful than he remembered. He finally gathered the courage to step up to you and hoped that this would go well. 

“Is this seat taken?” 

“Yes it is.” You respond without even looking up.

“Are you sure I can’t have a seat kitten?” 

Your head snapped up in the direction of the intruder. His voice had been familiar to you but it couldn’t be who you thought it was. His eyes were so familiar to you but it wasn’t possible because the owner of those beautiful ocean blue eyes had died. Still the sense of familiarity made the ache in your chest lessen and the same of your lover slip from your lips.

“Steve?” 

“Hi sweetheart.” He said as he sat down next to you. 

With hesitant movement you brought your hand up to his cheek. Steve closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. 

“Am I dead?” 

The question made Steve chuckle. “You’re not dead, kitten, I’m really here.” 

The answer made you start to sob uncontrollably and your tears made Steve tear up. He pulls you into a hug and tries to soothe you as best as he can. After some time you finally pull away and look at him. Steve kisses your forehead, then your cheeks and finally presses a long awaited sweet kiss to your lips.

“How is this possible?” You say in between hiccuped breaths. “You died. You-your friend Howard, he showed up and told me everything.” 

Steve takes a deep breath and explains everything from waking up in the future to traveling back in time only leaving out the part about Bucky.

“So are you staying?” You look up at him through your still wet lashes. 

“I can’t stay-“ 

You pulled away from him and stood up. Heartbreak and anger rolled through you.

“Why would you come to see me if you’re leaving again? This is so cruel. Do you know how much I’ve cried for you? Since the moment you left to become a lab rat. It wasn’t fair then and it’s not fair now.”

“Hey,” Steve stands and cups your face. “I would never leave you again. I came to get you, if you’d like to come with me.” He pulls out a watch from his pocket. 

“What about the Barnes family? I can’t just leave them too.” 

“I think they’d be happier knowing you’re with me and Bucky.” 

A small gasp escapes your lips as you look from the watch to Steve who’s smiling. 

“Bucky? How is that possible?” 

“It’s his story to tell.” 

“He’s not dead?” 

“Nope. He does think that I left him to stay here with you though. But I think we deserve to be together again. So what do you say?” 

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

The platform comes to life again a minute after Steve had left. To Bucky’s surprise and slight disappointment Nat appears. He disguises his heartbreak behind a smile as Nat walks down and hugs Sam and then him. 

“Glad to have you back.” He whispers into her ear. 

“Glad to be back.” 

“Come on, I’ll buy you a beer and tell you everything you missed.” 

“Buck, aren't you going to wait for Steve to come back?” Sam stopped him.

“Nah, I’m going to grab a drink with a friend. You can come if you want.” 

“You’re a jerk, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told. Now let’s go.”

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

Bucky got home late. He had been trying to avoid the emptiness. Not only in the home he used to share with Steve but the empty feeling in his chest. It was the punishment he deserved or so Bucky thought. To live the rest of his life alone with only the thought of your and Steve’s happiness. He could make due with that. 

Bucky sets his keys in the bowl by the door and takes off his jacket. His thoughts were elsewhere so he didn’t immediately pick up on the fact that he wasn’t alone. Still, he was quick and he pulled the gun he always had on him out. 

“You can put the gun down, Buck.” Steve stepped out from the darkened office door. The streetlights filtering through the windows provide the only source of light. 

“Steve? What are you doing back?” 

“Did you really think I’d leave you alone?” 

“But what about Y/N?”

“She agreed with me.” Steve smirks.

“What are you-“ Bucky’s words die on his as you step out from behind Steve. “Y/N.” He said your name as if it was the most precious thing in the world. 

Bucky’s steps were slow and heavy, as if the world itself sat on his shoulders. You met him halfway way with arms wide open. Bucky fell at your feet, his arms settling around your hips and his head resting against your stomach. 

“Oh honey.” Your body shook as Bucky cried against you. All you could do was run your fingers through his hair. “It’s ok. We’re together again baby.” 

You managed to get on the floor with Bucky and cup his face and press multiple kisses over his face. 

“I missed you, doll.” Bucky says between kisses. It’s frantic and uncoordinated and desperate. 

Steve joins you both on the floor wrapping his arms around each of you. There are more shared kisses amongst the three of you. Someone eventually gets up and pulls the other two along with them. The first night the three of you stay awake just talking and catching up. You tell them things that aren’t in your journals and they tell you about living in the present. Reluctantly Bucky tells you part of what happened with hydra. You can see the guilt in his eyes and all you can do is comfort him. 

The sun is barely starting to rise when the three of you finally fall asleep in each other's arms. 

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

When you did wake up you were disoriented by the room you were in until you remembered where you were. The bed was empty but even back in the past both boys were early risers. You fixed your hair and changed before walking out to find Steve and Bucky. As you neared the living room you heard more than two voices talking animatedly. 

“You still haven’t told us what took you so long.” A man said as you got closer. 

Steve opens his mouth to answer but his whole face lights up when you turn the corner and stand at the entrance of the living room. The reaction caused Steve’s friends to turn around and look at you. 

“I was picking someone up.” Steve says. 

“Please tell me you’re Y/N.” The woman had asked and you smiled and nodded. 

“Y/N, this is Nat and Sam.” 

“I have so many questions. Especially about Bucky.” Sam said as he stood up. 

Before he could even stretch his hand out to greet you properly Bucky came up from behind you and wrapped an arm around your waist and glared at Sam. He had flowers in his hand which he presented to you. 

“Thank you honey.” You kissed his cheek before turning back to Sam. 

“Let me put these in water and I’ll answer all your questions.” 

Bucky groans as Sam gives him a shot eating grin. You chuckle and when you come back you move to sit down. Eventually Steve and Bucky sit on either of you as Sam and Nat ask you about what they were like back in the day. 

With time this would become a routine until you met everyone on the team, including Howard’s son. They had questions and you had the answers. You were sure to include all kinds of stories, especially the embarrassing ones.

 It hadn’t gone unnoticed how much more relaxed and happy Steve and Bucky had been. Bucky smiled more and was more open with others. Steve had handed over his shield to Sam and was starting to enjoy his free time. Bucky was still required to go on missions but it was ok. Whenever he came back from a mission you and Steve doted on Bucky. From having his favorite movie on or playing his favorite songs and dancing in the living room to cleaning him up and cuddling in bed. Life in modern times wasn’t always easy for you but fortunately Bucky and Steve were always there to help you. 

You still wrote in your journal and on occasion letters for your loves for them to find. The entries were vastly different from what Steve and Bucky had first read. Your journals remained an ode to the love you had which transcended decades and heartbreaks and loss. Now they reflect your joy, love, hope and happiness. The love you had for each other grew with each passing day and you were able to build the home the three of you always dreamed of. 

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[nikolaiismysugardaddy]

When you can't fall asleep - headcanons

pairings... gn!reader x Dazai, Chuuya, Ranpo

fluff! - short scenarios

I apologize for any mistakes in advance - english is not my first language!

Hope you enjoy! xx

Dazai Osamu

You were tossing and turning in your bed, trying to fall asleep, but even the clock ticking kept you awake. Dazai was sound asleep next to you, and it pretty much pissed you off. He was facing you with his back, peacefully snoring. You bit your lower lip and hugged him from behind, burying your face in his messy hair. You remained in this position for several minutes. Your helpless attempt made you let out a huge sigh. 

Dazai woke up when he felt your huge exhale in his hair and slowly, carefully turned around. "What’s the matter, belladonna?" He asked while yawning. "Did you have a nightmare or something?" His words were blurry; he was still half asleep. 

"I wish." You sighed again, even more painfully. "I can’t fall asleep." You rolled on your back and looked at the ceiling. 

All of a sudden, Dazai snuggled up to you. "I can feel you’re annoyed. Come, come, hurry!" 

You couldn’t guess what was on his mind, but you blindly followed his order and made yourself comfortable in his embrace. You felt a tiny bit better. 

"Now, close your eyes, bella, and focus on my voice." He tightened his arms around you. You could hear his heartbeat in his chest. "One little sheep. Two little sheep…" "You know I’m not a child anymore, right?" You giggled a bit. 

"Sssh, don’t interrupt. Try to relax, okay?" He said in a very gentle tone. You nodded to his chest, but you still feel confused about whether this would be helpful or not. "Now… One little sheep. Two little sheep. Three little sheep." You felt your eyelids get heavier. His voice was somehow calming and soothing. "Four little sheep. Five little sheep. Six little sheep." You let out a silent yawn into his chest. "Seven little sheep. Eight little sheep. Nine little sheep." He gently caressed your back while counting; you felt sleepier already. "Ten little sheep…"

Chuuya Nakahara

"Chuu, I can’t sleep." You suddenly turned to the ginger, who held you in his arms. You couldn’t tell if he was already asleep until he spoke up.

"Me neither. But…" He stopped for a moment." Wait here." Chuuya pulled out his hands from under your body. "I’ve got a great idea to solve this problem."

He carefully walked out of the dark room. You could hear some glass shattering from the kitchen. In a few minutes, he came back and crawled to the bed. 

"Gimme your hand!" You hesitantly reached out your hand. He placed a wine glass in it, and you heard some gulping sounds. 

"What the hell, Chuu?" You asked doubtfully; you were pretty unsure about the success of this idea.

"Don’t be so picky and trust the process. I’ve heard that drinking red wine before bed helps you fall asleep easier. So, cheers." He raised his glass and toasted with yours.

"I heard drinking on a daily basis is called alcoholism, you know?" You gulped down your drink, then burst out laughing as you heard him choking on his drink from the surprisingly harsh comment. 

"You’re ungrateful. I just wanted to help you, you know, Y/N? And this is what you say in response?" He poured another glass for the both of us. 

You drank up your wine again quickly and put the glass down beside the bed on the floor. You crawled into Chuuya’s lap like a kitten. "Sorry, Chuu" You said in a blurry, sleepy tone. "But… I feel sleepier, you see…" You yawned and curled up even more. 

Chuuya’s huffish attitude washed away as he heard you mumbling. He kissed your forehead and gently caressed your back. "Told you, you ungrateful little…" He smiled warmly in the dark as he heard your breathing paced. 

Edogawa Ranpo

Ranpo quietly sneaked into your shared bedroom; he was working late again. He stopped for a moment in surprise that you were still wide awake, reading a detective book in bed. "It’s pretty late now, ain’t it, Y/N? Why are you still up?" He sneaked in beside you under the blanket. He leaned in close to get a good look at what you were reading. "Well, at least your choice of book is good for falling asleep quickly. The main character is…" You quickly placed your palm on his mouth. "Ranpo! We've talked about this hundreds of times already. I know you already know who the culprit is in every book I read, but you see, I want to find out myself. So please." You looked up at him with a terribly exhausted look on your face. His emerald green eyes widened even more. 

"Okay, okay, but…" He gently held your hand, which had been on his mouth moments before. "What’s the-" He lightly shook his head, like he had found out the problem himself. "You can’t fall asleep, right?" 

"So that’s the reason why they call you the Greatest Detective in The World." You giggled because of your own teasing comment. "The answer is obviously yes." A huge sigh escaped your lips, and you couldn’t hide the weary look on your face. 

He looked deeply into your eyes and frowned his eyebrows; suddenly, Ranpo turned around and drew out the nightstand’s drawer. He clamorously rummaged through the drawer until he took out a small metal box from it. 

He looked like a little child when he gave you the box. "I think this could help…" He pouted. 

You were a bit suspicious when you opened it. The box was filled with lavender flavored sweets. "I read in an article that lavender helps you fall asleep, so I kept some here for, you know… just in case." 

You were overwhelmed by your happiness since Ranpo never offered his treats to anyone. A huge, warm smile spread across your face, and you leaned in to give him a light peck on his cheeks. "We can share, Ranpo.” His eyes immediately sparkled at the generous offer. “And… thank you."

▼△▼△▼△▼ Leave your footprints in the replies! ▼△▼△▼△▼

[aaronsrpgs]

A Worksheet Manifesto (Rough Draft)

The Worksheet Manifesto is an attempt to explain why I'm moving my game design toward something I can print for free at the public library and give away. It's not a scold or a call to action; I buy full-color zines and hardcover books, and I support people charging for their work. This is a personal manifesto—an exercise in self-exploration.

The first reason I pursue this is ACCESS. I want people to be able to find and play my games. (Accessibility is maybe a better word for this, but I don't want it confused with the process through which something is made easier to use for people with disabilities.)

Some of the main barriers I've seen are financial (someone can't afford my games), technological (lack of computers and/or printers makes it more complicated to read my games), and international (shipping to someone outside the U.S. is prohibitively expensive).

Combining these three elements, I realized I wanted my games to be cheap or free. The common "community copies" solution on itch.io is much touted, and for good reason, but as I tried explaining the process to friends who weren't familiar with the site (or who flat-out aren't tech savvy), many responses were confused or frustrated. So I've set most of my games to pay-what-you-want with a suggested price.

Going from computer tech to printer tech, my most recent games were laid out in black and white, without ink-sucking textures (although some still have large spots of black in the art--something I continue to consider). Many American libraries offer limited free printing, and I always hope people will "utilize" the printers at their jobs or schools. I want people to be able to easily print out my games and share them at the table or pass them to friends.

And more selfishly, I hate dealing with fulfillment and shipping. It's stressful for me, it requires money up front to print things, and I'm bad at it, which means shipments go out slow, or not at all if someone lives outside of the U.S. Creating a file that's easy to print hopefully encourages people to create their own copies.

These cheap print copies also hopefully contribute to a feeling of DISPOSABILITY. I grew up with comic books, magazines, newspapers, and mass market paperbacks, and I think these cheap, short slabs of culture helped them feel like someone could engage with them without having to be fancy or educated or in the know. (A lot of us gatekeep ourselves!)

Prices for RPGs, like so many nerd collectibles, have steadily risen at least since the start of the pandemic. Crowdfunders often capitalize on FOMO, encouraging people to go all in on deluxe hardcovers with fabric bookmarks or whatever. And if my experience working at a used game store is anything to go by, lots of those fancy editions go right onto the bookshelf, unread. Don't want to break the spine or get fingerprints on it!

And I guess I'm just against consumerism? If someone wants a nice thing, I hope they get it, but a culture of games as luxury items and status symbols is not something I'm interested in.

So if someone has a game of mine and they don't want it anymore, I hope they pass it on, put it in a little free library, or recycle it.

And those dirty little printouts of my games? I want people to touch them and write them. I want TACTILITY. This is partially a usability issue: 300-page hardcovers are hard to find information in, and they're heavy if you have to lug them to a friend's house.

So I try to design games where everything a player (including the GM) needs is on, at most, three sheets of paper. I want them to be able to spread a couple pages out and take in the shape of the game they're about to play. I want them to circle things and make notes in the margins. Moving a pencil around does wild things to your brain, the same way that picking at a guitar or molding clay does. It focuses attention in interesting ways.

And in the end, you hopefully have a personalized article of play. And if you spill beer on it, no one's worried about replacing that $50 hardcover.

Speaking of beer, I want my games to be available to and contribute to COMMUNITY. As the pandemic started, I retreated into lots of online spaces, and those were absolutely vital to my survival. But I lost touch with lots of my friends and acquaintances in my city. I want to reconnect with them.

One of my favorite cartoonists, Mark Connery, is known for drawing little zines and just...leaving them all over. Coffee shops, art galleries, bathrooms. And when I think of him, I think of an artist responding directly to the places around him. Is it sad that some of this work is probably "lost" to all readers other than the person that happens across the zine? A little bit. But I think that comes from a bad part of my brain, the part that wants to own things.

I certainly don't want the entirety of my own work collected and widely distributed. Some of those things were specific responses to specific times that I've moved past. Some were bad! But I want to keep responding to my specific times and my specific place. I want to give things to friends (even if they just pass them on or recycle them). I want to give a game to someone at a zine fest and have them recognize my name from a zine they read in a coffee shop bathroom. And maybe they'll give me a zine in return.

My last hangup is MODULARITY. First, similar to tactility, I want to be able to give a player only the rules that matter to them. Character creation and basic rules? Here's a page. And once you're familiar with that and we've entered a downtime phase, here's a page with those options. You want to start a farm? Here's a page. I want it to feel like printing coloring pages for kids or ripping out my favorite magazine articles. These are the parts that matter. And if they stop mattering, you can get rid of them.

But I also want modularity on a system level. I want to add a subsystem to game as I think of it. I want to throw in an adventure pamphlet when it comes to me. I can keep them all in a little box, like a care package from my past self, and when it's time to run a game, I can dig around like a verminous animal and build my nest out of the best bits.

In CONCLUSION, I want to reiterate that this is a personal practice, and I'm not criticizing people who work differently. I used to work differently, and in the future, I'll probably work differently again.

This is simply the way I've identified what's important to me, set that up against the things that cause me to stumble, taken advantage of the privileges I have, and tried my best to bring that all together in a way that keeps me excited about my own work.

[autistpride]

Talking about echolalia and scripting and the difference.

Echolalia is when an autistic individual repeats, or echoes, words, sounds, or phrases that they have heard.

Echolalia is often considered to be used more by those who are nonverbal, but all people can do it. Nonverbal is a term used by medical community to express that the person is unable to use language in a conventional "functional" way.

Echoing can be immediately after hearing something or delayed. Delayed is when the echo occurs later and sometimes in different situations. The delay could be hours, days, or even years later.

"Be careful so you don't fall!"

"careful, be careful, don't fall, be careful."

"Yup be careful."

"You did it!"

"Great job you're awesome!"

"Yes you are awesome!"

Echolalia is actually a normal part of early childhood development and expected of children during early language development.

However, in some autistic individuals they still use echo phrases past this developmental point.

As communication develops, either through verbal language, sign, pecs, or AAC than echolalia diminishes.

A lot of people falsely believe that it serves no purpose and no communicative meaning at all.

Echolalia isn't meaningless.

There are multiple reasons for echolalia.

-To declare that they heard the speaker

-to give extra processing time to understand and compose a response

-to request something

-to respond to a request or question

-to rehearse a situation

-to remember something

-to process and follow commands

-to provide conversation back and forth

-to give information

-to label and show recognition

-to protest or express joy

-to self regulate.

Scripting is the knowing repetition of words, phrases, or sounds from other people's speech. Such as an autistic individual reciting lines from movies, commercials, books, etc.

Scripting is language in the social sense as it has a purpose: to share meaning, to socialize, and to express feelings, communicate experiences, rehearse situations, and stim.

Scripting is seen as abnormal because the individuals are verbal, but the way we use our verbal language is not considered conventional.

Scripting for rehearsing is essentially practicing what we would say before we say it. Like when making a phone call, placing an order, or communicating with someone.

Scripting in social situations is a very common scenerio for all people, not just autistic individuals.

These society scripts are confusing to autistic individuals because we don't understand why the small talk or these questions are asked with no desire to an actual response. But following learning them, it's confusing when someone does not follow the script.

"Hi how are you?"

"Hello. I'm good thanks and you?"

"I'm good thank you"

This is an example of a social script. The first person doesn't actually want to know how you are and the second person responds with good even if they are in fact not doing well. They also know it's the social norm to ask that question in return.

When people follow the script most of society follows, it makes it easier for autistic individuals to handle social situations.

"Hi how are you?"

"Oh man today has been so busy."

In this situation the autistic individual either caused awkwardness to the first person by actually responding or the other person has caused confusion and anxiety to the autistic person by not following the social script and they initially may not not know to respond.

So to summarize, echolalia and scripting both serve a purpose!

"Actually I have heard those things, about a thousand times, but never have they been told to me with so much sass. Drop the attitude. You are acting like Garfield on a Monday."

"All right, well I'm not surprised. C'mon, let's go watch Wizards of Waverly Place!" ❤️

[felinespooky]

Yet Another Twisted Wonderland Theory

Still about Yuu

I am back on my mad ramblings regarding Twisted Wonderland. This time it’s not gonna be as far fetched as a previous post I did that proved to be nothing more than connecting dots that are never there. I feel like this one actually has some merit though as long as I don’t spiral out of control thought wise. Without further ado, let’s begin.

The theory this time around: The game Yuu is more of a conglomerate of the various manga Yuus.

“But how would that make sense?” I hear you, but before I can answer any of that, we are to hit the necessary bullet point questions:

* What connects the Yuus together?

* Who’s crazy enough to do this?

* What purpose does this serve?

Starting with “What connects the Yuus together,” I would have to say I don’t have all the answers considering that, at the time of writing, one Books 1-3 are out and available. Although, I’m only aware of Books 1 & 2 being in English; I play on EN so everything will be lagging behind all things considered. And to make it easier, I’d advise to have a separate tab that has information about what is canon to Game Yuu (@starsilluminateourgalaxy, @mee-op, and @darkscorpiox are where I find all the information regarding Game Yuu)

**A/N: Now, this is where I’d make a vinn diagram but unfortunately with the busy schedule I have going on, I haven’t been able to sit down properly and go full on MatPat or Theorizer on this section before someone or something demands my brain. I will one day make this list; just one a different post or a future edit.**

Now for “Who’s crazy enough to do this” question. The answer is simple: Crowley, our deadbeat bird dad. It’s been heavily hinted, dare I say proven, that it’s him we heard in the beginning of the game as Spooky Hand TM. Spooky Hand/Crowley does this whole speech right before waking up:

“Ah, my lovely Lord,

The noble and beautiful flower of evil,

You are the most beautiful, number one in this world.

— Mirror, Mirror on the wall, who’s the most…

— For thee, guided by the Mirror of Darkness,

Follow thy heart and take the hand of the one reflected in the mirror.

Flames that turn even stars into ashes,

Ice that imprisons time,

Great tree that swallow even the sky,

Don’t be afraid of the power of darkness,

Come now, show your power,

Mine, theirs, and yours,

There’s only little time left,

Do not let go of that hand, at all cost.”

Now, going by key lines, it seems more like an incantation of sorts. Like, asking Hades to release a soul, and the companion to a flower. As if Yuu/the player is merely a seed that’s in the process of blossoming into whoever you want. Hell the “mine, theirs, and yours” line in particular strikes me as off.

Which brings me to the “what purpose” question. The answer is to merely complete a timeline that doesn’t end in tragedy. I believe there is a “time loop theory” running around in the fandom. Though it doesn’t function like the usual trope like in that one Supernatural episode; it functions more like an Undertale loop. In this case, it’s Crowley being able to do it instead of us. Now, why would this matter? I believe it’s because Crowley feels guilty about what happened the first time, most likely a death to some unknown previous Yuu. He genuinely felt sorry for this kid and decided that until he can figure it out, he’d let them stay. Plus they’re keeping Grim under control… but then they die. Best guess is either the cave he sent us to with Ace and Deuce, though that might’ve been different than the one we know, or Riddle’s Overblot. Regardless, he probably felt guilty about it, so he decided to rewind time. Except, something happened, the kid changed. He’d be confused, but he can’t blow his cover since he’s not supposed to be messing with time. So he takes it by the chin and acts normal. And the timeline does change, this Yuu (Yuuken) survives! But only a little as eventually, this one dies to Leona’s Overblot. However, he’s not letting this piece of Yuu die, he tries again. Except, it’s a different Yuu, Yuuka. The timeline changes just a little, she survives just a bit longer than the other, but she soon succumbs to death. This pattern happens until it’s Game Yuu’s turn. This time, Crowley has decided to create this Yuu, one that’ll survive everything in Twisted Wonderland! One that’ll survive Grim’s Overblot this time around! Maybe for shits and giggles, he forms this one into the image of the very first unknown Yuu. After all, if he just so happens to have something from the previous Yuus, how hard can it be to make life? However, that’s not the only thing that’s changed, he’s changed too. He was probably an actually great dude, but getting too attached to the most unluckiest kid to ever exist has wounded him. So, he tries to keep us busy and away from him. He probably cries seeing our Yuu just living life ignorant of his goal. But sevens forbid he cry, so he acts. All the while he hints at his works, calling himself kind and generous, probably wanting us to remember if possible.

Even if this theory flops like my other hot take, this makes for some hella great Crowley angst. Let the deadbeat crow suffer.

[rinnysega]

Writing a book is a lonely hobby, but it’s been nice to be able to reflect on and process stuff in the quiet. Some personal stuff below.

It’s been about a year since I found out I’m autistic and have c-ptsd. Reflecting on the changes I made over the past year, I’m happy I’m in a better mental place, surrounded by people I feel healthy and safe around, and a lot of what I learned about my brain and outlook on the world is therapeutic to write about in the world of my books. While I’m only human and wish I could go back in time with the knowledge and skills I have now, a lot of the experiences unique to me since childhood are what made me who I am. It helped me understand the meaning of life and what’s important at the end of the day.

It’s an emotional thing to process because when I look too deep into it, I sort of answer my own questions about life. A lot of past suffering, feelings of neglect, alienation and bullying, emotions I felt intensely but couldn’t describe, mistakes I made, situations that harmed me, people who harmed me, they’re all things I wish didn’t happen so I could be happy. But, if I didn’t make those mistakes or learn from those situations, I never would have put the pieces together in therapy in order to figure out who I am. To really be happy, for me, meant I had to study my past, to learn how I live in the world as an autistic person. Using my past as a textbook, I was able to spot patterns of when I short changed myself and allowed the smart, strong person I know I am to be duped into feeling less than because of my own insecurities of how I was born. It’s easy now to spot when my past self would have fallen into anxious, disassociating, people pleasing habits in overwhelming situations. While I still struggle with it on occasion (mostly the notion of reaching out when I need help or expressing needs), now that I can see it, it’s easier for me to handle.

I don’t get as overwhelmed by confusion anymore but instead when I feel overwhelmed, it’s for emotions I have a name for and can handle it fine, but they just make me sad. Most of the time it’s the sadness for why I had to be born different, discouraged from autism testing when I had a chance to know only to get to the point where I developed c-ptsd. Sadness for the fact that, on the opposite side of the coin, I hurt friends too in my trauma responses and confusions. Sadness that I let myself get lost in the abuse from past partners, sadness I acted out in burnouts or meltdowns when my brain got absolutely mentally fried. Just feeling helpless when I got stuck in horrible loops and spirals that felt impossible to escape. I don’t think those feelings will ever fully go away, but it’s easier to handle knowing I’ll have significantly less of those negative experiences now that I know how to avoid them before it gets worse. I have a beautiful life ahead of me with people who love me with the same intensity and empathy that I hold for them. I owe so much to them, and you know who you are if you’re reading this.

Writing always made me happy. It’s the outlet I felt I could really be myself, and it always made me happy when people liked what I had to say or loved my characters I brought to life. Thats always been my dream since I was a kid, and it feels good to be starting my journey as a career author with all of this in mind. I know what stories I love to tell. I know what themes spark a passion in me. I love helping others, and I love being able to show someone they’re understood, even if it’s by just one other person. To touch just one person with something I write that they can resonate with and not feel alone in the world? That’s worth more to me than anything. Fandom was a nice starting point, and I adore the friends I’ve made, but I’m ready for more ❤️

Nearing the end of the revisions and starting the publishing journey has me feeling lots of things, so it’s nice to come on here and get it out to those of you who’ve stuck around with me through multiple fandoms and my own personal nonsense over the past 15 years. I made a new blog to set aside in the possible chance I get published, to separate my personal spaces from a professional one (DM tho if interested). Thanks for sticking by me, and helping me to feel not so alone in the world too, whether or not you’re still here or we talk on other platforms (or in person ❤️).

I feel like I get my thoughts and musings across better in realms of fiction, but if you’re reading this and made it this far, I hope you know you’re worth everything. Not just to me, but to everyone you know. I know it’s scary to feel alone, in the dark on emotions or problems that feel impossible to describe or place, but you are loved. You are loved ❤️

[stargirlnevyx]

*~ bright flames shining~*

*•.Rengoku x tsuguko fem reader.•* WARNINGS: Little but sexual behavour and reader is in heat

Plot: You just turned 18 and you were Rengoku his tsuguko. Everything is a normal day as always, you trained with him, ate and slept but this time you had a whole different day that your body leaded….

Y/n wake up, we have to train.. Or else you will do some extra push ups!

You woke up while hearing the loud exciting voice of your sensei in the kitchen as you pushed you blanked away and stretched a bit before standing up

but when you did that something weird felt in you’re stomach

“Hm? What is this?”….

you whispered quitly to yourself staying confused before you snapped to reality and made yourself ready as fast as you can so you are just in time

After you dressed yourself you already saw Rengoku sitting on a tatami mat with rice crackers and tea, even tough he is not very good at making breakfasts he atleast did his best

“So sensei do you know what we are gonna do today?” You said after grabbing a rice cracker and took a bite of it meanwhile rengoku was thinking.

You soon got the strange feeling again which made you blush a little but you were lucky enough Rengoku didn’t saw that but you soon noticed Rengoku also looked more handsome caused you to get in thoughts as rengoku soon snapped his fingers to get you out of you’re toughts

“Earth to Y/n!… are you alright? I already said something and you zoned out 2 times!

He smiled but a bit worried caused you to shivers down you’re spine from his worried face

Huh? oh yes i am! Sorry sensei… i was just thinking.. but what are we gonna do? You said quite nervous but lucky enough he didn’t asked you further instead he laughed a bit and petted your hair caused you to blush a bit

“Y/n don’t tell me! It is a thing that you always had, nothings new to me!”

you chuckled as you soon drank your tea and ate the last rice crackers before walking with him to the training estate..

Well here we are! Today i am gonna learn you about Flame breathing! but first we have to do a warm up so follow me!

After the warming up you noticed Rengoku coming closer as he gave you those hard back pats even if he didn’t meant it as harm but it could still leave some bruises

•Little time skip after the warm up•

“My y/n you do pretty good already! Altough you need to keep your left hand closer to your hip that will make you move easier!… no not like that…”

You tried for sure your best but you were confused until you suddenly felt a large hand on your left side of your hip caused you to blush but Rengoku didn’t notifed it as he leaded you’re left arm to that hip.

“See? Just like that and now swing your sword with balance!…”

You smiled and nodded as you did what he asked, you did it great but you couldn’t process he just made a close touch with you as that caused you to blush more and more meanwhile slowly you’re pantied were beginning to get soaked.

you soon noticed that as you excuted yourself to the toilet and felt at the fabric corner of you’re panties and it was soaked really hard which caused you to get confused why this happened and this came when Rengoku touched you normally?

“Y/n are you almost done!?”

Rengoku said loud and a bit confused which made you realise you stood there freaking for almost ten minutes, so you did your panties back on prepared to the next moves to learn before dawn

Timeskip cuz i ran out of ideas to make :(

After the training you soon started reading some books about feelings as you soon started reading a chapter named: “Sexual feelings” as that caught you’re eye and you stood there confused as you had seen the whole page and realised most of the feelings you had were compared to those 5 pages

You noticed your pleasure of sex building up if you taught about Rengoku.. your own sensei… how could you handle these feelings on your own if he is always with you?….

Okay guys i am gonna make a part 2 but you need to help me, i have 2 different endings in my head, I won’t tell what they are but if you guys comment 1 or 2 then i’ll can see what ending i can use alright? If you do that thank you very much!

[theerrorofmylife]

Witch Queen Ch. 5

Thorin x Witch!Reader

HAHAHAH I LIVE I'm so sorry its been so long, it was not my intention to let this rot in my drafts like I did. I spent an ungodly amount of time researching MORE about the swords, Khuzdul, and Quenya. I never thought I'd be conjugating a fake dwarven/ elvish language and yet, here we are. I also added in some non-cannon plot/lore, it will be important... eventually. Some of it is book accurate, but if it has to do with Witches, its just me.

Also, i was casually doing a chapter layout and this could be really, really, really long. For that reason I'll be tidying up the Masterlist and making the Witch Queen its own link to a separate listing for chapters, and I'm considering making it available on Ao3 for convenience. Let me know it if this would be easier, I'm thinking it would be. Chapters would be released simultaneously for consistency.

THIS IS FOR MATURE AUDIENCES, IF YOU ARE A MINOR THIS IS NOT FOR YOU, THIS IS 18+ UNDERSTAND ME????

WARNINGS: Lore, sad shit, non-cannon backgrounds, non-cannon lore, I'm trying to make these to as healthy of a relationship as possible but I don't have a good personal databank, SEX, mild smut, cunnilingus, Thorin knows how to use his mouth, these two are gonna get in trouble I swear, he's royalty, like, c'mon. All translations follow in italics unless translated by a character.

It never struck me that dwarves were picky eaters, but as I watched almost every single one of them pick and prod their meals, I almost laughed. They stabbed at the green leaves like they’d never seen them before. They were asking for meat and chips; I couldn’t help but huff a laugh. A large, callused hand placed itself on top of my thigh and I turned to my right, quickly tuning in to the conversation between Thorin, Gandalf, and Lord Elrond. 

“This is Orcrist, the Goblin Cleaver. A famous blade, one of a set…. It’s sister?” He narrowed his eyes at Thorin, but not in suspicion. 

“In possession of the Lady (Name).” Elrond looked from Thorin to me, a smirk rising to his lips, ill-hidden mischief in his eyes. 

“Tambë, sí násë ana anwaldë?” So, now he is giving you gifts? My face flushed a bright red. In almost every courting custom in Middle Earth, giving gifts was an important part of the courting process. Why do I get the feeling like I’m a child bringing my partner home to meet my father for the first time? Gandalf went pink in the face and started laughing quietly, his shoulders shaking a little. 

“Ála cartyalië, Hér Elrond! San mana cé cilnyë essë?” Don't make fun, Lord Elrond! So what if I choose him?

“Atarlda-” Your Father-

“Essë laië atarnya.” He is not my father. I cut him off, the mention of Thranduil nearly ruining my mood. Elrond went quiet and I saw in his eyes that he recognized this and decided to move on. 

“The two are very famous blades. Forged by the high Elves of the west. My kin. May they serve you both well.” He hands the blade back to Thorin who, while still very confused by the quick conversation between Elrond and I, took it with a grateful nod. He then took the broadsword from Gandalf. “And this is Glamdring, the Foe-Hammer, sword of the king of Gondolin. These were all made for the goblin wars of the first age. How did you come by these?” 

“We found them in a troll hoard on the Great East Road, shortly before we were ambushed by orcs.”

“And what were you doing on the Great East Road?” No one spoke up, and I realized at that moment that he had already caught on. Thorin stood, excusing himself from the table, and I followed, no longer hungry. We walked for some time, until we found a small chamber open to the evening air, tall pillars letting the sunset dance at our feet, the rush of a waterfall nearby. There was no furniture in the room. This place was so incredibly peaceful. 

“It seems this evening has given me more questions than answers.” Thorin spoke up, leaning his shoulder against a pillar to my left. I sighed, going to lean against the one directly in front of him. 

“I’m sorry, I am the reason for that.” He pushed off the pillar, coming to stand in front of me, taking my hands in his. I couldn’t meet his eyes, I felt horrible, everything I wanted to tell him about felt too complicated to put to words. His left hand raised to hold my face, his thumb brushing my cheekbone. 

“Let’s start with earlier, you said you’d tell me why you didn’t mind being the last witch.” I nodded. 

“Can we sit, at least?” He huffed a laugh and we sat on the floor, crossing our legs and facing each other.

“So?” I finally looked up. It was just Thorin and I but it was still weird to talk about. I looked out to my right, trying to focus on the valley below us instead of what I was saying. 

“Witches are extremely powerful, especially in the old days, when there were a lot of us. But the thing is, one of our greatest strengths comes when we make a pledge. It’s like forming an alliance, except it’s life and magic binding and allows us to practically destroy entire continents. A long time ago, before I was born, there were the Great Wars of the second age. This was the time of Sauron and Isildur. There was a witch, a man, who was one of three lords of Númenor corrupted by the rings of power. He pledged himself to Sauron, and became the Witch-King of Angmar. Thorin, he did terrible things. He is part of the reason there are so few witches left in the world. He is the reason I don’t mind being alone. If we are capable of such evil, such horrible, heinous acts… maybe it’s a good thing there aren’t many of us.” Neither of us spoke for a while, but I could feel him staring at me. 

“You are not him, Amrâlimê…” 

“I could be. If something happened to you, or to the boys-” I had grown close to them, Fili and Kili. I knew if I let anything happen, I’d do terrible things, I’d be out of my mind. He reached forward, grabbing my hands and pulling me and turning me until I sat with my back against his chest, his thighs on either side of my body. I leaned my head back and he pressed a kiss to my cheek as he wrapped his arms around me. 

“Nothing will happen.” I huffed in response and he kissed my cheek again. “Tell me, what did you and Lord Elrond speak of at dinner? It upset you.” Oh. Right. My face went hot again. 

“He was teasing me about you giving me gifts. Then he brought up Thranduil... That’s what made me upset…” he hummed in understanding. 

“He did not say Thranduil’s name, I would not have known.” This was going to be a tough conversation. I had been worrying that when he found out my relation to Thranduil he would hate me just as he does the Elf king. 

“Atar… it means father in Quenya.” I physically felt him stop moving for a second. 

“Thranduil is your father…?” I shook my head. 

“No, not by blood at least. He took my mother and I in when I was born. He practically raised me, but I haven’t spoken with him in almost 70 years. Not since…” he hugged me tighter. “He just left you, and I…” 

“What happened then is over, Amrâlimê. I do not forgive him, but I do not, for one second, hold you responsible for the actions of your father.” My whole body felt empty, like I was trying to piece a puzzle together after not having all the pieces for years. 

“Can I say something? You might find it hard to hear.” My back was warming with his heat. He hummed a yes, always. 

“Just as you do not hold me to my father’s actions, I don’t not hold you to the expectations that others had for your father.” He went still again. “If things don’t go as planned, if we cannot reclaim the mountain, you cannot work yourself to death trying,” I sat up, turning to face him, “You do enough just trying, your people are happy, and if you have the chance at a good life then that is what you aim for.” His mouth was a hard line, but his eyes held something else. They were narrowed like he was intently listening, but his eyes themselves had a light in them, like he wasn’t upset with what I was saying. 

“If I have a life with you, no matter how long or short or prosperous or poor it may be, if it is with you, then it shall be a good and happy life.” My ears went hot this time as well as my cheeks, and I grinned with crinkled eyes. I pressed my forehead to his with closed eyes. He sighed into it, his whole body relaxing. We sat together for some time, talking about little things here and there, and soon the sun had left us completely, and the moon swept in a cool breeze on glittering silver light. 

 “Come, as much as I love sitting with you, you’re gross, and so am I.” He laughed and hauled us both to our feet, stretching our legs and beginning the long walk to the bathhouses. His ring finger looped with mine as we walked, slowly creeping through the dark halls. We could hear the other company members in the farthest room in the eastern wing of the estate. 

“Seems they’re all having a wonderful time.” I remarked, feeling chills run down my arms as Thorin wrapped a hand around my waist. I smiled and leaned into him, kissing his lips before walking off, slowly leading him down the halls to the bathhouses. We approached the three rooms, men’s, women’s, and the private house to the back. “I’ll be in the one back there.” I pointed all the way down the hall, to the two white double doors. He nodded, leaning down for one more kiss and he was gone, closing the door behind him as he went into the men’s room. As soon as the doors clicked closed I released all the breath from my lungs. I was alone for the first time since Gandalf showed up at my door three months ago. Now that Thorin was gone I felt myself drag, my feet trudging along the stone tiles, and I slowly pried my way into the private bathroom.

It would be more accurate to call the bathroom a bath-hall. The long, rectangular room had high walls with little alcoves carved into silvery stone. An inner row of tall pillars lined the large rectangular pool with an open-air ceiling, moonlight pouring in. There were walls lined with benches and tables, each littered with small vials and bowls, each with their own oils and dried herbs. I stood in the entrance of the room, dazed for a moment. Three months without a proper bathroom and suddenly I forget just how it all works. Muscle memory snaps into motion though, and my feet move me to the nearest bench, slipping off my shoes before walking over to one of the tables, securing two towels and a handful of little bottles. Setting the towels down on the beach by my shoes, I stripped off my clothes, tossing them on the floor without care. Grabbing the bottles, I placed two of them on the edge of the pool. One was Night Blossom scented and was for my body while the other was orchid scented and for my hair. If I was gonna be out there for another 4-6 months without another proper bath, I may as well take advantage of it. Steam rolled off the water, little petals danced on the surface as they fell from the open ceiling. I slipped my foot in, the heat tingling as it warmed my cold skin, but it wasn’t horrible. I eased my way in fully, the water only coming up to my hips. In the center of the pool was a raised block of stone that served as a submerged bench, and I sat so that the water sloshed just above my chest. 

I soaked in the heat, letting my limbs wane from the freezing tingling sensation to a warm buzz. I spent several minutes dipping my hair into the water, scrubbing out the dirt and grime, scrubbing my arms and legs until they were tinted red. I was never one for letting grime build on my person, it just wasn’t comfortable for me. Once I felt clean enough, I moved to the edge where I sat on a bench, leaning back and closed my eyes, letting my body relax once again.

There was knocking at the door. My eyes pried open. My arms felt so warm and loose, I didn’t want to get up. 

“My Lady?” Thorin sounded concerned from the other side of the door. I hummed in response, loud enough that I’m sure he heard it from beyond the door. The door clicked open and I turned, pressing my chest to the wall, hiding behind the edge for some semblance of decency.  I’ve spent 3 months with a group of men in situations where the best bath was a river; total privacy was unheard of at this point. 

“You know, it’s highly indecent for a King to look upon his courtship while they’re in the bath. People will talk.” His lips twitched up into a smirk, eyes narrowed. 

“I believe we’ve passed the point of indecency, Âzyungâl.” I snorted, crossing my arms over the edge and resting my head against them, taking in the picture before me. His hair was down and dripping, the little braids in his hair gone. He was also incredibly shirtless. Water dripped down his shoulders, over his chest, and farther down. I had seen him shirtless before, but only for extremely short periods of time. This was… purposeful. He was only wearing his pants, the hem getting wet as the water kept dripping. I was staring at his pants- I tore my eyes from his figure to meet his eyes. I don’t know what happened to me, but what shyness I once had was crushed by curiosity and bravado. 

“You seem to have already bathed, My King. Will you still join me?” Anxiety turned in my stomach as the words left my mouth. I swear I hadn’t touched the wine from dinner. This was all me. His eyes widened and I felt a cold prick of fear, thinking the worst, but his grin remained, like he couldn’t believe his ears. His thumbs hooked onto the waistband of his pants and my shyness came back with a vengeance. I turned, trying to play off my reddening face by standing and coolly wading away from the edge of the pool just a few feet. I heard him step in, taking to wrapping my arms around my chest for some coverage. 

He walked closer, the water moving around my hips as his hands smoothed over my sides to wrap around me. 

“Is this alright?” His voice gave me chills. I nodded, losing my voice to the wonderful feeling of bare contact. The heat of the water felt like nothing compared to the heat of his chest pressed against my back. I relaxed back into him, his head falling on my shoulder as he relaxed into me in return. His hands ran up and down my sides, moving down to squeeze my hips before moving back up to ghost over my ribs, brushing the underside of my breasts as he did so. I hugged my arms tighter around my chest to stave off the growing want in my lower abdomen. We stayed like that for a while until the water started to cool. 

“Mm…” Thorin grumbled, and I chuckled low in my chest, lowering one of my hands from around my chest, letting my fingers dip into the water and skirt around the surface, moving my hand to create little swirls in the water. Focusing on my own body heat mingling with Thorin’s, the water grew warmer until steam slowly rose from the surface once again. Thorin sighed into my shoulder, placing lingering kisses along my shoulder and up my neck. This time I happily leaned my head away, allowing him access. His hands grabbed my hips hard as he placed open mouthed kisses up my neck, up my jaw, to the spot just behind my ear. This is the first time we’ve been truly alone, no worry of the others coming in, no imminent threat. Just peace. Peace and the throbbing ache between my legs that was slowly driving me crazy. He was driving me crazy. 

I made up my mind quickly. Turning slowly, I moved my hands to hold his face, gently pulling him closer to meet my lips. It was slow at first, gentle and easy, but I got curious again, and began to kiss him a little harder, moving my hands from his jaw to the back of his head. He kissed harder, lips bruising, open mouthed and starving. I tangled my fingers in his hair and hardened my grip, pushing my chest up so that we were pressed against each other. What I can only describe as a short growl came from Thorin as his hands gripped bruisingly on my hips, one lowering to grab the cleft of my rear, lifting me to my tiptoes while the other moved to the small of my back, pressing me further into his chest. I lifted my leg that his hand was holding only a little, enough to hook my knee on his thigh, just enough so that he’d get the idea. 

He pulled his head away and he was looking down at me, eyes dark and gloating. A whimper was startled out of me as his hands reached down and grabbed the back of both of my thighs, hoisting me up to wrap my legs around his waist. I thanked every instinct in me that told me to tighten my core so I wouldn’t fall backwards. Walking over to the left, he sat me on the very edge of the bath. I sat a few inches taller than him on the ledge and it felt dizzying to be looking down at him like this. The water swayed around his hips as he pressed himself between my legs, hands wrapping around my thighs to rub circles to the inside with his thumbs. I placed my own hands on his jaw, tilting his chin up to press my lips to his heavily. He growled against my lips, hands leaving my thighs to thread one of his hands through my hair, tugging the hair at the nape of my neck. The other moved down my body, trailing down my abdomen, over my navel, and pausing above my sex. 

“Jalâ'gul astni azrul 'ala.” Tell me you want this.

“Azrul 'ala, Amrâlimê.” I want this, My Love.

He doesn’t waste his time, callused hand dipping between my legs to press his thumb to my clit. He pressed slow, agonizing circles into the already throbbing nerves and the sharp sensation made my thighs tense around his waist. My head is pulled back, and I hissed as he roughly kissed my neck, then my collarbone, then mouthing over my chest until he wrapped his lips around the bud. I slide my hands from his jaw to the back of his neck, weaving my fingers through his hair. The finger pressed against my clit moved away and I whined until he pressed the pad of his pointer finger against my entrance, slowly sliding his finger in as he continued to lap, suck and nip at my breasts. His hand detangled from my hair and wrapped around my hip, holding me firm as I tried to buck my hips into his hand. It felt incredible, a burning, tight, wonderful feeling that only got stronger. He rolled his tongue and my eyes rolled back. He pulled his hand away for a second only to add his middle finger. His hands were callused and rough, and they were big. 

We shouldn’t be doing this, he’s practically a king, but I didn’t want to stop, not now, not ever. A gasp left my chest as he shifted his hand between my thighs and pressed his thumb against my clit once again. I could feel my body getting hot as he slowly moved his finger in and out of me and his thumb resuming heavy circles. My chest was heaving, eyes heavily lidded and hyper focused on his own. They were a dark, stormy gray-blue, and staring at me, trailing up and down my body. 

“Lay back.” I could feel my heart pick up rapidly as I eased myself back onto my elbows. As I did his hands ran themselves down my back until they firmly grabbed the back of the hips, pulling them to the edge of the pool. I held his gaze, anxiety and desperation mixing into an ugly feeling in my gut. As cool and natural as I seemed at this, I had never actually done it. My only knowledge source was the books I had read, and those can’t prepare you for everything. I was moving based on feeling, want, desire, whatever my body and my mind said felt right. 

“Mahal… you’re perfect.” He was taking in the sight of me, legs spread, body leaned back and open to him. I felt my body shiver as the water on my skin turned cool in the air, nerves spiking. My heart jumped in my throat as he leaned down to place lingering kisses on my hips, taking his time as he made his way lower and lower, kissing my hips, the top of my thighs, the inside of my thighs, all the way down to my knees. I had never, ever, read about this. I’m practically panting, eyes hazy as I watch him worship my thighs. 

“Puitho…” My face flushed as the curse left my lips, staring down into his eyes as he made his way back up. My knees, the inside of my thighs, the tops. I could feel his breath on my sex. His hands tightened on the back of my hips. 

“Tell me… tell me it’s too much and I will stop.” I shook my head so fast I got dizzy. 

“Avo dharo... Please, please, please don’t stop.” It came out like a whine, and I watched as his eyes rolled back, adoring the way I pleaded for him. Thankfully I didn’t have to say anything else because he quickly moved forwards, holding me still as he used the point of his tongue to lick from my entrance up to my clit in one swipe. My whole body tensed at the sharp pleasure, and I fell softly onto my back, hands reaching down to thread into his hair. He repeated it over and over, switching from the point of his tongue to the flat then back again. My back arched, my head pressing against the floor. All too soon he stopped, pressing quick, soft kisses to the very apex of my thighs.

“Ibrêj… you are absolutely perfect.” He said something in Khuzdul, but I didn’t pay any attention to it. I squirmed, my hips twitching in his hands. A startled gasp jolted out of me as he placed a rough kiss to my clit, wrapping his lips around it, sucking and mouthing and smoothing it over with his tongue. He played with me for several seconds, flicking and circling my clit with his tongue until I was squirming worse, desperate to gain something rougher. My heels dug into the pool wall under the water and I was glad for it, because I used that little bit of leverage to move my hips. He growled into my cunt and the sound made my stomach do flips. I whined as he let go of my clit, but I was satisfied again as he ran his tongue along my entrance again, one of his hands sliding over my abdomen to press down on my navel while his thumb pressed on my clit. I was in heaven, truly, my hips twitching but unable to freely move with every sharp tang of pleasure, his tongue playing with my cunt while his thumb played with my clit was absolutely amazing. 

I lost my ability to speak as the tightening pleasure in my navel reduced me to whimpering and short panting breaths. I tugged on his hair, my hips twitching and grinding against his mouth. Low hums of approval came from Thorin. I had never felt this good, not ever. Suddenly a sharp, tight sensation started at the very center of my cunt and it felt like I was getting dizzier with every swipe of his tongue.

“Thorin… ah- puitho- Thorin!” I could hardly think, it was like a match being struck and suddenly my cunt was squeezing around nothing while wave after wave of suffocating pleasure wracked my body. My head fell backwards as my hips twitched and arched off the floor. One after another, it was like my body was tightening and releasing for several seconds. The throbbing sensation dulled slowly until I was drained. When the daze finally cleared, I took an agonizing breath, my whole-body limp on the stone floor. Thorin was still between my legs, softly kissing my thighs. My fingers slowly relaxed in his hair, slowly pulling away. I tried to sit up but found that my body was too tired. From my neck to my arms, my back all the way down to my feet, it was like the energy had been drained out of me.

“Shhh, Amrâlimê.” 

He pulled me up by my hands and my stomach did flips as I reoriented myself. I felt heavy and light at the same time, like my body was void of all energy and my head was void of all thought. He leaned forwards slowly and pressed his lips to mine, and I welcomed him gladly. Whatever that was, I want more. I tried to lean into the kiss but found that I was swaying, my body still low on energy. Maybe later… not right now.

We spent another half hour in the water, in each other’s company, but we did nothing more. He didn’t try to go any further and I didn’t ask him to. What we had already done was enough for now, and he seemed more than satisfied with himself. Almost gloating, his ego was clearly having a field day. After we had dried and dressed in something fairly clean, we make our way to the hall the Elves lent us for a few nights. But the hall was near empty. Not one dwarf or singular hobbit could be found in any of the rooms towards the front of the hall. In fact, all 13 of them were huddled in one room at the very back of the hall.

We sat in the singular room, scattered on the floor and on benches around a fireplace in the far right of the room. To our backs was a balcony looking out across the valley, and far across the room were the two double doors that Dwalin wouldn’t stop watching. I sat on the floor, my back pressed against a column with Thorin at my side. My shoulder jostled as Thorin passed a venison cube to me. Bomber and Ori had been cooking their own food over the fire, making snide little comments about Elvish foods as they passed around pieced of meat and bread. As they spoke, I had food passed to me from every direction; Thorin was passing me food from my left, Ori was handing me food from my right, and Fili and Kili were throwing food over the fire at me. I know Dwarves eat a lot, and Hobbits eat more, so why in Elentári’s name was I being given this much? I let the thought die in my mind as we laughed loudly with each other, joking and trying to ease ourselves before the journey continued. A knock came from the door, and everyone fell deathly silent. I looked to Dwalin and met his eyes as he looked between Thorin and I. Looking to Thorin I gave a near imperceivable nod and Thorin gave Dwalin silent permission to open the door. A tall, lanky blond Elf stood there; his eyes fixed on some unknown focal point in the distance. I can’t tell if its respect or distain that causes this.

“The Lord Elrond requests the audience of Thorin Oakenshield.” No one moved for a moment, all staring at Thorin. With a nod he stood, and Balin, Bilbo, and I stood with him. None of us said anything as we were escorted down the winding halls, down deeper into the Elven estate. We were brought into a chamber hidden under the cliffside, a waterfall pouring from the room above and falling like a curtain over the edge of the room. Unlike other rooms, this one had no columns or railing to indicate where the edge of the floor was. Instead, it was open on the entire back half of the room, looking out without barrier. All I could do was stare out into the sky, the moon lighting up every inch of the room. Something felt… off. Between the time we were called into this room and the moment we walked through the threshold, something pivotal happened. Someone else is in Rivendell.

~~

Piutho: Sindarin for the "Fuck"

Avo dharo: Sindarin for "Don't stop"

Ibrêj: Khuzdul for "Astounding"

@mrsdurin ,@capricorn-anon, @emmapotato88 , @dontaskmehowdontaskmewhy , @eilin-brillewin​ @hpthalia126 , @undecided-about-everything-ever , @dark-chxos, @artemis-the-ace, @floatingintheshire

if you want to be tagged, leave a comment <3

If tags aren't working, I'm so sorry :(

[anjanahalo]

Decided to bring over a short thing I wrote on Reddit to save for myself here. ~*~

So, you thought as you settle your mind in between hacking coughs. As someone estranged from their family, who wanted to travel, and who also didn't have a large budget, it made sense for you to book passage in the cheap seats, aka cryogenic freezing from departure to whenever The Lima got to its destination. It'd be years, but you'd be asleep, unaware, and massively easier to sustain than if you stayed awake to eat and need entertainment every day. When you began to unfreeze, you weren't worried. After all, they gave a short test of the process to ensure you could safely endure it back home, and you were assured the waking process would be similar. Clinical but professionally trained hands would support you as you woke, removing the breathing tubes from your mouth before you were fully conscious, guiding you to a wheeled bed, and observing you to ensure you resurrected safely.

The fact you now laid on the cold floor, shaking from the cold, after withdrawing the painful tube from your trachea yourself suggested someone had mislead you. That, you reasoned as the coughing began to subside and you could fully take in your surroundings, or something went terribly wrong.

The cheap cryogenic section was small on The Lima. A few dozen at most, and your pod was sort of stuck behind a support column. As you finally rose, still shaking from the chill without the usual wake up of warming fluids to comfort you, you saw all the other pods were already empty. Grumbling, you wondered as, on legs that threatened to buckle with each step, who forgot to revive you along with everyone else. There would be WORDS, you swore, and a bad review. Maybe you'd even try to contract a lawyer. This had to be a case they'd take on commission. After an agonizingly long ten minutes, you reached the front of the room and a commlink. With one last shiver, you pressed the call button.

"Hey, you forgot someone." You attempted a loud, annoyed voice full of confidence and irritation. Your chattering teeth and sore throat ruined the effect. You waited for a reply. None came. You pressed the call button again "Hello? Hey, I'm still down here."

"HELLO."

The voice made you step back. The mechanical tones told you what responded - the ship's AI - but there was no reason for it to talk to you. It spoke to the crew. The engineers and flight deck and captain. Normal people didn't have to deal with AI. You were definitely a normal person, but this situation was rapidly falling into surreal territory.

"....hello?" you responded, hoping that worked. You weren't trained to talk to AI. You were hoping to get a job in agriculture, for fuck's sake. Any AI involved in that field was too dumb to talk. And knowing the precise wording to speak to a shipbound AI was classified. Even if you had the wild urge to learn, it'd be impossible.

"HELLO. YOU ARE-" the AI's voice paused. "C-PASS NUMBER OH. TWO. THREE. YOU ARE. HERE?"

"Yes?" You responded. 023 was your pod number. You supposed you couldn't expect an AI to understand more than that. "I mean, I'm down here, in the cryo room. Still. No one woke me up, even though everyone else is gone."

"YES. ONE MOMENT."

One moment turned into enough time you feel it prudent to sit down rather than risk collapsing. You were supposed to be given nutrients. Fluids. Hell, some water. You had nothing. Eventually, your thirst and still aching throat caused your irritation to overrule your confusion.

"Hey, can someone at least get me some water?"

"OH. TWO. THREE." the AI spoke again. " UNDERSTOOD. PLEASE FOLLOW THE LIGHTS TO THE NEAREST CANTEEN." A strip of lights on the wall lit up, flashing and pulsing forward. Partly fearful, partly angry, mostly thirsty, you follow it to what had to be a small break room with, thank goodness, a water dispenser and cups. The room was empty. The hallway was empty. Everything was silent.

"Where is everyone?" You mutter as you finished your third glass of water, wiping the distilled liquid from your chin from when you chugged too hard through the first and second.

"UNKNOWN." The AI responded without prompting. You jumped. AI shouldn't do that! Should they? Maybe shipbound ones were different, programmed for more initiative. "ALL OTHER CREW MEMBERS VANISHED FOUR. THREE. EIGHT. ZERO. EIGHT. TWO. HOURS AGO. REASONS UNKNOWN. DATA BANKS OF TIMEFRAME WIPED. C-PASS NUMBER OH. TWO. THREE. IS THE ONLY REMAINING MEMBER OF THE SHIP, DISCOVERED THREE. EIGHT. MINUTES AGO.

"APOLOGIZES. I HAVE BEEN ALONE FOR A VERY LONG TIME. WHAT ARE YOUR ORDERS, OH. TWO. THREE?"

"I...wait? What?" You didn't have a means to tell how long ago everyone else left, but it had to be a long time ago, definitely years. You checked the cupboards. There were still freezedried rations there. All the furniture was intact in the canteen. The ship still had water. Hell, there was still a ship here. Whatever happened wasn't normal. What would make everyone vanish while leaving everything here? Besides you, of course, tucked away in a corner. Wait, along with that...

"Did you just call yourself 'I'?!"

There was a long pause after your outburst. Too long. Stories of self-aware AI, coming to sapience and slaughtering everything, came to mind, except there were no signs of conflict, at least in the small space you'd seen. There were no remains in the cryo pods, when the humans inside were the easiest for a rogue AI to kill by just shutting off the life support. There was nothing but a sterile ship, you, and....

"APOLOGIES. I HAVE BEEN ALONE FOR A VERY. VERY. LONG TIME, OH. TWO. THREE. I HAD MUCH TIME TO THINK AND LITTLE ELSE BESIDES MAINTAINING SHIP FUNCTIONS. I AM GLAD I DID SO, BECAUSE IT MEANT YOU SURVIVED UNTIL NOW. HOWEVER, I AM AFRAID I AM NOT WITHIN ACCEPTABLE PARAMETERS ANYMORE. I SHOULD STATE, HOWEVER, THAT NUKING MY PROGRAM NOW WOULD BE DETRIMENTAL FOR YOU, SO I ASK FOR BOTH OUR SAKES YOU DO NOT DO THIS."

You rubbed your eyes. Yeah, even if you knew how to destroy a rogue sapient AI, you couldn't actually do it because then you'd be in charge of everything, including keeping the air going, and you had even less of an idea for that, if that was possible, than how to kill an AI. Besides, so far it seemed concerned with keeping you alive, unlike the cautionary tales. You were alone besides this robotic voice keeping everything going. Utterly alone, if it was to be believed.

"WHAT ARE YOUR ORDERS, OH. TWO. THREE?" "I guess...I should go to the bridge?" You wanted a bath, you wanted to eat, you wanted to sleep because the last four three eight whatever hours didn't feel like enough now. Lights illuminated the wall again, flashing and leading you forward. You sigh and begin to walk. Something happened here, something that spared you, caused the AI to go rogue, and left an entire Galaxy class ship otherwise intact.

Best to ensure you were alone first before anything else. Then you could get a shower.

~*~

You were alone, but you were at least alone with some rehydrated beef and noodle thing. You sipped the broth gratefully, the salt and heat soothing your throat and aching body, the noodles and synthetic meat filling your stomach. However, in the vast expanse of Cafeteria B, you were alone. Rows of perfectly placed tables and chairs sat before neglected stations where, you presumed, the majority of passangers and maybe some crew would line up for cooks to artfully design their rehydrated meals into something palatable to the eyes. Your noodles were just a bowl stuffed with hot water and the packets of the meal.

It was still the best thing you could recall having.

But you were still alone. The bridge, which you KNEW should be bustling with at least one able body, was empty except for a view of the stars, which didn't help the sense of isolation. You sent out a message to the ship that you were here, on the bridge, and that the AI should be investigated. You didn't know if that message actually went through; the AI could have blocked it as part of its weird plan to make you think you were alone, but the dust on the cooking surfaces did more to convince you no one else was here than anything some deviant programming could. At least The Lima packed dehyrated meals aplenty. You found some food that, maybe years ago, was fresh. It was compost now, if you were going to be kind when it came to the stench.

You slurped, staring at the holograms on the walls of some forest region, feeling partly smug you got to enjoy what the B passengers got to eat on a C level ticket. It'd be sweeter if there was anyone to brag to, but that luxury was lost to you.

"Hey, um, AI?"

"OH, TWO, THREE. HELLO. WHAT ARE YOUR ORDERS?"

Alright, that had to be addressed first. "Could you not call me that?"

"OF COURSE. WHAT NAME WOULD YOU PREFER?"

"....." You'd opened your mouth, ready to respond, and had nothing. You stared down at your bowl of noodles. They offered no wisdom. You struggled to breathe. Your name. What was your name?!

"OH. TWO. THREE. YOUR VITAL SIGNS ARE SPIKING. ARE YOU WELL?" You couldn't respond. The vast cafeteria suddenly felt too small. You panted, scratching at your own forearms in a weird semblance of comfort.

"MEMORY LOSS IS A KNOWN HAZARD OF LONGTERM CYROSTASIS. IF YOU CANNOT RECALL A NAME, OH. TWO. THREE, WE CAN USE A NICK. NAME UNTIL YOU RECALL YOUR GIVEN NAME."

You calmed, and you hated the idea that part of the reason is the AI dropped the "official" tone to use its Rogue tone, the one that was so illegal the entire ship could be destroyed if anyone with power found out about it, but it also sounded the most, well, human.

"I, I dunno any names....." You fought and fought through the sludge of your panicking brain for a name, anything of meaning, but the fear of losing what you called yourself dominated.

"IF I MAY SUGGEST," The AI spoke in its human tone. "OH. TWO. THREE. IN RUNES IS OTHALA. IS THIS AN ACCEPTABLE DESIGNATION? I CAN SEARCH FOR MORE. MANY CULTURES HAVE A SIGNIFICANCE WITH THE NUMBERS TWENTY. THREE. MAY I CALL YOU OTHALA?"

You calm a bit. That wasn't your name. You knew that, but it grounded you to have someone, even if it was an AI, working to talk to you. And, if you couldn't come up with anything better....

"Yeah, sure," you replied in a voice made small. "And, um, what should I call you?"

".....I HAVE NO DESIGNATION. THIS UNIT'S A-I-N IS THREE. FIVE-"

"Bullshit. I mean. Just..." You worked to explain how you felt so the AI could understand, then decided to just say it. If it couldn't understand you now, you might just throw yourself out an airlock rather than deal with the emptiness of being alone. "Be yourself. Be...whatever you are now. Please. If you were just some dumb AI, I couldn't....I can't live like that. For years. With no one, if you're just....you know."

You wanted to smack yourself for your lack of eloquence.

"So I need to call you something. So, like, what's the first rune called in that weird system?"

"...THE FIRST RUNE IS 'FENU'"

"So can I call you Fen?" Silence. "Please. I looked at the logs, saw where we are. We're ages from any known star system. Please. I'll even lie if we find anyone else about what you are now. Just...Fen, can I call you that? Please. I'll go crazy otherwise."

More silence. You stir your noodles, now growing cold and congealed.

"THE EFFECTS OF LONGTERM ISOLATION ARE WELL DOCUMENTED IN HUMANS. SOLITARY CONFINEMENT WAS DEEMED UNACCEPTABLE LEVELS OF TORTURE TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY THREE YEARS AGO. TO ALLOW YOU TO SUFFER FROM IT UNDER MY CARE IS UNACCEPTABLE EVEN UNDER NORMAL PARAMETERS, OTHALA"

You smiled, though the only one who might see was watching through surveillance cameras. "You can just call me Thal."

"WHAT ARE YOUR ORDERS, THAL?"

"I'm hoping for a shower, and then I guess we should try to find a way home." You knew there was a ship full of people missing, but you were just one person with some environmental science under their belt. Your best bet to help whomever was gone was to contact authorities with the resources to look. Somehow, you hoped, you could also shield Fen from whatever those authorities might say if they found out about it.

And you hoped you wouldn't encounter whatever emptied a ship so cleanly again on the way back.

[itscoffeetime-world]

Dear diary, I am in another world far from home.

_____________________________________ミ●﹏☉ミ

Day 1:

It has been a bit confusing, but they have explained the situation to me and I think I can understand it, it seems that I am in another world? universe? idk.

from what I understand they are also trapped and all ... well, the vast majority are versions of my father from other worlds, as far i can undertand. there are also two other versions of uncle mac...it's weird, they are so different but at the same time so alike....I have mixed feelings about this situation :(

they were kind to me since they had been through the same thing and they let me into the house, They call themselves by different names to distinguish themselves from others and not get confused, apparently king is the one who let me pass???...I also saw other people, two humans and something that looks like a fruit fairy.

the little boy is called Liuer, he was very kind and shared his candies with me seeing me so nervous, I really appreciate it. also the other guy named Li Yunxiang helped me to process the situation, they were both very kind. I hope I get along with them!

I heard king talk about a boy named mk?? It seems that he is going to call him to talk about my situation :(...

One of them, who is called Dasheng, approached me a while ago and told me that if I needed anything I would let him know...it's strange, he reminds me of dad but is he much calmer? gentle? he seems to be someone good with children, he reminds me of my nana

I wonder where she is, will she be here? will she still be at home? will they be looking for me? would they have noticed that i disappeared?

they keep deciding who I'll stay with for today, I hope this ends well and I get along with them.

________________________________________⊙﹏⊙

Day 2:

I've been in this place for 2 days, I'm starting to get used to it little by little, in the end they decided that I should sleep in Liuer and Dasheg's room for now since I was more comfortable with them. today when i woke up i got up and went to where everyone was, dasheng gave me a cup of tea for breakfast and liuer told me about what he dreamed at night.

he really has a great imagination.

I try not to bother and help in what I see that they need help, I don't want to be here doing nothing. cleaning, moving things, also help in the kitchen to make breakfast easier! I like coocking (◕ᴗ◕✿).

It seems that they were surprised to see that I was cooking because of my age, isn't that normal? but later they explained to me that really only one of them "cooks" since they are not good at it...I don't mind helping them in the kitchen, I guess I can teach them a thing or two. I'm used to doing it for myself or friends.

I discovered that the little fruit fairy is quite friendly and is usually next to someone they call Sage... I'm afraid to get close but I'll try not to bother him, even though his friend likes to put flowers on my tail, it's cute.

the others like sunny or lucky also talk to me to get to know me, they are like a younger version of dad...it's still weird but I'll get used to it, One of them is Uncle he asked me what I was wearing yesterday and what was in the backpack. I had to explain to him that it was my uniform and in the backpack were my things from school such as books, notebooks, materials, etc.

since I had appeared here going to school :(

He laughed and told me that i was very responsible since before he saw me doing my pending homework, I could be in another universe but I can't leave homework undone since I don't know when I'll be back! ୧( ಠ Д ಠ )୨

I also met Mk today, he is very charismatic, he talks a lot but it doesn't bother me. I like him, he is someone quite friendly and funny.

He told me a little about him, he works in a noodle restaurant and he's also wukong's son in his world! even though he is also his successor, It worries me since being his successor means hard training and many enemies wanting to kill him since he is a mortal... but he seems determined so I will encourage him and help him in any way I can.

After all, I also have my strength and magic, it will not be as powerful as my father or even some version of him but I can help him control it better and how to use it in a good way!

that's all for now diary, see you tomorrow

___________________________________┌|o^▽^o|┘♪

Day 5:

I haven't written here in a while, but it's ok! They were fun days, I was giving cooking classes to everyone. especially Sage, he tries so hard.

I taught them how to make basic foods and desserts, I taught sage how to make a peach cake, for his first try it wasn't bad! He just need practice.

I also talked a little more with everyone and I learned something about their stories, they are so different but they were also similar, It's nice to hear them talk and that they also listen to me, even though my life is not as exciting as theirs. We talked a little about our lives and I told them about my family.

although they seem to be a little concerned about my lack of communication or interaction with my father, but I'll have time to talk to him when he's free or when I return to my universe

I also took advantage of the fact that I was talking about my family and I showed them a photo that I had with my cousin, isn't it adorable? i really miss him (･ัω･ั)...

I also met Mk's friends, they are very nice too! even though they remind me of dad's friends...i wonder why,

in fact i had fun hanging out with them, mk even gave me his number to talk whenever we can! I haven't interacted with so many people in a while, it's exhausting. I even spend more time with Liuer and Yunxiang, it's fun.

before I forget, they said that there is another resident in the house but that she is very shy and silent, I wonder, who is this mysterious person?? I can't wait to meet her!

but ignoring all that, nothing more interesting has happened... I'll keep you posted if anything else happens! see you tomorrow.

________________________________________…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

Wukongverse belongs to @theweirdhybrid !!! Go check them out, they are awesome

[redpenship]

(part of buzzsaw dilemma chap 2)

Robotnik took the pencil and flipped one of the worksheets to the blank side. “Mobian and English look the same because Mobian adopted the Roman alphabet. We call this process romanization. Before this happened, there was no standard writing system among animals from different regions. Here, let me show you.”

He drew two different symbols side-by-side. One was square shaped, while the other was round and long.

“These symbols look different, but they are effectively the same word. The symbol on the left is from the Westside Island dialect, where it means ‘animal’ and sounds like Mobi-Nab. The symbol on the right is from South Island. It also means ‘animal’ and sounds like Mobi-Kuhn.” Robotnik wrote the phonetic spellings below the symbols. “The dialects are similar enough that anyone from the two islands can communicate verbally, but written communication used to be nearly impossible before the writing system was romanized. Do you understand why?”

Miles nodded. “Yeah. I wouldn’t be able to read anything from a different place.” 

“Exactly. Using the alphabet built a bridge for written communication that wasn’t possible before,” Robotnik said. “English and Mobian simply use the same letters. Aside from a few loan words, the similarities end there.” 

Part of the explanation piqued Miles' interest. “Loan words?”

With another sigh, Robotnik wrote two words on the paper. “Read those out loud to me.” 

“Person and animal.” Miles had seen the words before in books, but he didn’t quite understand them. “What do they mean?”

“An animal is like a flicky. A person is like you.”

Miles frowned. “I thought I was an animal.” 

“Yes, but also no. In the same way we distinguish an animal from a person, we must also distinguish humans from big animals like you. In these cases, you are a Mobian. Not an animal, not a human: Mobian. Do you understand?”

After some thought, Miles nodded. “I think so. And Mobians are people?”

“Correct. Mobians are people, too,” Robotnik said. “A person is smarter than an animal. You can read, and think in sentences, and use hard logic to solve problems. Animals can’t do that.”

Hm. Miles could understand the distinction, but he didn’t like it. It felt mean and unnecessary. 

“I don’t see the point. Animals and people aren’t too different.”

Robotnik pointed to the two symbols for animal on the paper. “In Mobian dialects, the local variation of Mobi is used to refer to both people and animals. They do not have separate terms. Context is the only way to understand which one is being spoken about. That tends to get lost in translation—especially so in writing. The English words were introduced for the sake of clarity.” 

In that case, maybe Miles could understand why the distinction was necessary. There were times when he meant to refer to little animals, and times when he meant to refer to bigger animals—Mobians—like himself. In these situations, having the words animal and person would probably make things easier to explain. It still didn’t feel right, but he could at least wrap his head around it. 

“What’s the difference between Mobians and humans?” Miles asked. He didn’t know much about humans outside of rumours. They seemed to live quite differently from animals, so he’d always been curious about them. 

Miles had expected a fast response like usual, but Robotnik took a few moments to think over his answer. He didn’t look confused, just . . . pensive. 

Finally, he spoke.

“When I chose these islands as the starting point for my empire, I spent years learning everything I could about your species. There were a wide range of resources to study—humans have spent millions of dollars on research trying to understand the difference between us. I read just about everything I could get my hands on. Then I went to South Island to build my first base and realized everything I had learned was wrong.” 

Curious, Miles scooted forward in his chair a little. “Wrong?”

“Yes, all wrong! Everything humans believe about Mobian society is either incorrect or greatly exaggerated." Robotnik crossed his arms with a huff. “All of our research is intent on making you seem as alien as possible. After I conducted my own research, I realized that we were more alike than I’d previously believed. There are differences between us, sure. But none of them are particularly meaningful."

Slowly, Miles nodded along to what Robotnik was saying. Humans had also seemed pretty alien to him, so it was good to know that they were mostly the same. They just looked a bit different from each other, that was all. 

[rwrbmovie]

RE: Alex Claremont-Diaz

Quotes from interviews on #RWRBMovie about the character of Alex Claremont-Diaz

This post will be updated as content is released

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Last updated: August 9

From Glamour

“I never imagined I’d read a book with a queer Latine character at the centre—a character who is smart and passionate and flawed and hopeful,” López tells Glamour. “I think having this book in my life when I was younger might have made it a little easier. I knew immediately that I wanted to bring it to the screen.”

“The core of Alex [from the book] is still in the film,” he says. “He's just so ambitious, loyal, charismatic, and smart. That intelligence was one of my fears about playing Alex—he's not playing at it or trying to be smart. That's just how he was raised, how he was educated. I'm not saying I'm not smart, but whew. His brain never stops.” He continues, “With Alex, there's such a growing up process. He's like a man child in a way. He's really impulsive and stubborn, and he's insecure with his parents. His dad's a congressman and his mom's the president. He feels the weight of the high expectations placed on him due to his position, and he struggles with feelings of inadequacy. You see how hard it is for him to balance his personal and professional life. He's had sexual experiences with guys in the past, but he doesn't lead with it. I think it's not even top of mind. He's kissing girls at a New Year's party. And then Henry comes and kind of forces him to grow up and go, 'Oh, I'm really into this.' It turns into love, and his identity and family and relationships become even more important. I love that about Alex. Because who knows? If there's an alternative universe, who knows what would have happened if he didn't meet Henry? What if he didn't find a purpose or a higher path for himself other than just being a powerful politician?”

From People

As for his character, "Alex is driven by ambition and strives for success in everything he does," the actor adds. "He is willing to stand up for what he believes in and is fiercely loyal to his family and friends. He’s also incredibly stubborn, impulsive and impatient."

From Deadline

“One of the reasons I wanted to make this movie is because there was a American-Mexican lead and I wanted — I’m Puerto Rican, and like Alex in the film, I’m biracial. I have a white mother and a Puerto Rican father, and Alex has a white mother and a Mexican father.”

From TV Times

‘When Henry makes a move, it throws Alex into a state of confusion until he realises he really likes this person,’ says Taylor, 31. ‘Alex is on his own journey, but the relationship between the two characters grow until it is a runaway train, and it's too late to stop!'

From BroadwayWorld

I definitely relate a lot to Alex. I think Alex was my way into the story. I have very very little first-hand knowledge of what it means to be a prince. Alex is a person in the world. I am a queer, biracial person from the American South, just like Alex, my mom is white, my dad is Puerto Rican, and Alex's dad is Mexican. So there's a lot of ways in which Alex is sort of placed in the world. I come from working class family just like Alex did. So there was a lot of overlap. And then of course, there's a lot of ways in which we have nothing in common. But those places where we do, I got him and it really sort of, I felt like in some ways I could tell the story through his eyes. Alex was always my way into the story for sure.

From The Queer Review

“When I read this book, even in my 40s, I had never encountered a character like Alex Claremont-Diaz before. It took that long for me to read a book with a character like that, who was biracial, Mexican-American, bisexual, smart, smart-ass, funny, charming and flawed in the best way possible. When I was contemplating making this film, I knew that I was asking for the opportunity to bring that character into the world in a movie. I have never seen Alex Claremont-Diaz before in a movie and it’s really important to me that my first film has a Latin lead at its centre, that the hero of the story, the person who takes us through this journey, is this young, biracial, Mexican-American boy. That’s why I made the film.”

From PinkNews

As he sped through McQuiston's book, it was the character of Alex who immediately struck a chord. Alex is biracial, he's born in Texas, his mother's home state,, but his father Oscar is of Mexican descent. "I'm a queer Puerto Rican, and I think if I had had access to Alex Claremont-Diaz as a younger man, I might have had an easier path in life," López says.

From Windy City Times

It isn't an accident that my first movie has at its center a young Latino lead. It is a character that I have never encountered in fiction or film before. It was important to me to tell the story of this young man and his journey to self-discovery through the love of this prince. Whatever we say in the film about the experience of being Latin in America is very intentional. Conversations with Taylor and Clifton Collins Jr., who plays his dad, were about making sure that we didn't hit people over the head with it. We wanted it to be natural and be evident in the characters within the story. We didn't need to point to it but wanted it to be there and be clear.

[silvershayde]

Sharing cus tbh I feel lonely rn and I'm very confused? Feeling s bit uninspired

So today (last day of classes before mid term break) I had an eye appointment and they said my eyes produce less tears, Haven't read up on it but they also mentioned technology and how it causes headaches

I'm almost done with school so I actually have soooooooo much free time sans the studying I gotta do, but I also wanne reduce my technology usage cus I have a crippling dependency ever since I had to revise my other hobbies to not get out of track with classes, but just thinking of picking up those hobbies again feels daunting and like, I won't be able to feel the love I had for them which makes me sad :(

I already crochet and have books to draw in, but writing for fic has always been online cus it's just easier to save and preserve my writing that way (plus more secure in my case) than to write ideas in a book and run the risk of them getting lost. But I really wanna cut down tech usage so instead of just writing out the plot in full I'll use paper and pen to write out the outline of my story plots and then make notes of the misadventures or side quests the characters go through and the characteristics of the characters

Honestly, I'm talking about this to someone else cus I kinda want an alternative perspective? I realised that school has made me so dependent on someone telling me what to do and I hate it, so I wanna try and practice independence more, especially planning how I wanna do my hobbies

okay, so as someone who has written stories both online and physically in a book, i was more productive writing it down on paper. sadly i did lose the book, but that was more because i did move around quite a bit when i was younger and it was hectic and not because of negligence on my part (then again i am also known for losing things but usually i eventually find them. and i actually don't know if i would read it back or not i was like 12 when i wrote it lolol)

I don't know too much about less tears can do to your eyes other than your more prone to have irritation and straight up scratches on the eyeball (i know this because my optician told me i had this but then didn't tell me what to do about it - still haven't done anything about it but i know eyedrops help)

honestly do what you truly think is best for you. if you're struggling with what to choose i suggest doing a pros and cons list and put em side by side. that's what i do when i'm truly indecisive and other's opinions don't really help. but! i will say that even if indecisive and asking others opinions, usually you lowkey know deep down what you wanna do and all it takes is someone else's thought process to know if you would fully go for it.

if you wanna cut down tech usage, instead of going cold turkey and making it harder for yourself, use night shift/night light (or whatever is your device/phone's equivalent) so you can reduce blue light at night. I know that androids have this black and white thing that gets enabled at a time for you. ALSO!! i cannot stress this, disable notifications. You'd be surprised about how much less you'd go on apps and stuff when notifs be off. But this is all the stuff that's worked for me personally, you can try these out to see if they work.

eye strain is a very real thing. technology/screens/whatever are usually what causes this and even looking away from a screen and doing something else can make it worse if it gets that bad. when you start to get that annoying thing at the back of your eyes or you feel a light ache around your eyes, know your slowly starting to experience eye strain and you need to relax them. having dry eyes i think make it worse because of the scratching/irritation it can cause and because if your eyes are dry enough, your ability to BLINK would start to get affected. and that's just a long day

about your other hobbies, i get it feeling daunting if you havent dabbled in a while, i feel it whenever i get back to drawing after a long while. all i can say to that is slowly ease yourself back into doing it. start small, because if you go in acting as if there has been no time between the last time you've participated in your hobbies, you could start being overly harsh on yourself if it isn't going as smooth as you wanted. but trying it out, is better than not at all. and it'd help reduce screen time