#I remember getting hit for this exact same behavior

[skinreflectsthesun]

Yesterday beba was just not having it, he was fussy and crying and thrashing, he was upset because I took his puffs away so we could have dinner, and I really had a moment where I was so triggered. I had to walk away and take a deep breath. I had to take the time and imagine myself handling this well and not completely losing it. And I did that, I came back to him while he was still crying and thrashing and picked him up and sat him on my lap and hugged him and just tried to soothe him. Telling him I understand and I know you had a long day and it’s okay to be upset and I’m here. This was more for me than him because I know he doesn’t understand. But he calmed down and rested his head on my shoulder, his face was still covered in tears and his cheeks were pink. He was having a hard time and he needed me in that moment to be the solid unshakeable foundation, and I did that, I stayed calm even though I was overwhelmed, even though my childhood experiences pulled at my sleeve, I brushed it off and remembered that he was having a hard time and he needed me.

[malewifesband]

i see it often that people do not see laios liking kabru, but in reality laios does like kabru! quite a lot for a guy that (from his perspective) he just met! laios forgetting kabrus exact name is not evidence of disinterest in any way--hes only heard it a couple of times, he struggles with small details (unless you want to argue laios also doesnt give a shit about marcille, chilchuck and senshi, he also forgets small details about them. if you do think this, i think dungeon meshi may be too advanced for you. stick to bluey.), and the man has autism. like near explicitly.

laios offers food from their limited supplies because kabru showed an interest in eating monsters, and makes him an omelette so he can have something to eat even though other food was already being prepared. he listens to kabrus criticism of his behavior and mindset in trying to protect falin even though she was straight up killing people, and tries to drag kabru to safety. he watches kabru defuse the situation between himself and toshiro masterfully, and confides in him how hurt he is that toshiro is so angry and how he mustve done something truly awful to upset him like that. when kabru tells him that meeting him was the best part of his time in the dungeon, laios agrees and says its the same for him (remember: laios doesnt do empty platitudes well--if he said it, he meant it).

when kabru leaves, we get three fucking panels in a row of laios staring after him, flexing the hand kabru was just holding, and reflecting on kabrus words ("next time..?")

when kabru shows up again deep in the dungeon, chilchuck is suspicious, but laios is so excited to see him that he throws caution to the wind and lets kabru hold his hand again despite seconds later crossing succubus off his list of shapeshifters that could be appearing as kabru--a carelessness around monsters and danger laios rarely exhibits. when kabru gives his warning about the canaries, laios is grateful. he notices how often kabru saves his skin

when lycion reveals that kabru lied about wanting to eat the omelette laios made, it breaks his heart because he made that with love! he made it for kabru, and kabru didnt like it, and now he knows kabru was just playing at friendship to use him. that breaks his heart, hes distraught, but he doesnt have time to be hurt about it when marcille needs his help urgently so he turns to run to her. he apologizes to kabru and tries to leave again. he isnt listening to what kabru is saying here because kabru was just revealed as a liar and because it doesnt really cohere (kabru is stuttering and speaking in broken sentences as he tries to explain about the dungeons power) and he needs to save marcille

he doesnt believe kabru wanted to be his friend, because who would? why would laios be special enough, loveable enough, to go through the pains kabru went through, just to be his friend? but when kabru makes the intensity of his desire known, laios promises to feed him again, at a proper restaurant --and again, food is care for laios, to feed someone is to love them. marcille is still his priority bc she is in real danger but he means what he says, he really does want to start over with kabru and be real friends with him

once we hit the resolution of the story, kabru near glues himself to laios, helping him and trying to cement himself as a right-hand man, and making known his intent to support laios no matter what. in the medieval manuscript style epilogue, kabru is one of two friends that stick by laios as he becomes king. both marcille and kabru become the people closest to him (besides falin of course), two friends who will always support him, always let him know when hes fucked up and theyre mad at him, two friends who he can rely on. laios did not have to accept kabru as an advisor, he did not have to ask him to stay with him. he did that because after everything, he trusts kabru now, and knows he can count on him

while laios doesnt give any big monologues about what he likes about kabru, its very clear he does, and we know what things laios values in other people. he appreciates kabrus social skills (very clear in the post canon comic in the adventurers bible), his intelligence, that kabru WANTS to be around him and understand him even though its difficult, his strength, and frankly he does appreciate his charm (three fucking panels straight of staring after him). laios really values people with specialized skillsets who are willing to tell him frankly what they think and advise him in areas he is weak in (something we see in his relationship with... i was gonna say namari but its everyone. he does this with everyone he likes. and in the resolution kabru does this CONSTANTLY he does not go a panel without giving laios his professional opinion on how to deal with people).

in conclusion: arent you hungry, kabru? let laios make something for you

[ellisgirlfriend]

pure love ﾟ☾ ﾟ(audio)

ʚ♡ɞ childhood friend!ellie x reader

cw: weed, drinking, ellie is jealous, nsfw (ellie receiving), oral (ellie receiving), fingering (ellie receiving)

wc: 6,646

You and Ellie were always inseparable since little kids, it was rather easy to become Ellie’s friend since she seemed so cold to everyone else.

At first, you tried your best to talk to her since she lived right next to you and you were always a talkative kid but of course, it didn’t go as well with Ellie, she always tried to end the conversation after a few words and go home, but as time went by she seemed different, still irritated with your behavior but she never left you, she was always waiting for you in the same exact place, knowing that you’ll go outside to chat with her, you were so happy to find out about that, jumping around your room and going to tell your parents as fast as you could. After that it was history, just sweet moments with you and Ellie, playing in your mom’s garden in the weekend, sleepovers and everything friends do at that age, those were the best years of your life, living carefree without any stress, always with your best friend, you sometimes wished you were still so young, so innocent. But of course, reality was hitting you, especially college, you didn’t even have the time for Ellie and it was hurting your heart a bit too much for your liking, you tried your best to ignore it, to just study for these stupid exams and just get them over with.

That wasn’t the only reason you wanted to be young again though, maybe at that time the feelings were easier, everything was easier, you didn’t want to admit it for a long time but you’ve always had a crush on Ellie, when you were a kid too, you weren’t sure but you were so attached to her from the start and you’ve only just realized it now how clingy you were with her even as kid, that thought made you blush from the embarrassment, asking yourself if Ellie noticed that behavior, if she thought it was weird or something, or maybe she didn’t even care, you don’t really know which one hurt the most.

Sitting at your desk, you sighed deeply, you couldn’t study, mind full of stupid thoughts about Ellie, you’ve always wondered if she really thinks about you as much as you do, looking up at the ceiling, already in your own thoughts, you heard a soft knock on the door, you almost didn’t hear it, as you slowly turn your head to the door, you heard another knock, slightly harder this time.

You get up from your black chair, approaching the door as you try not to remember your thoughts you just had now. You open the door softly and you were welcomed by Ellie’s presence, of course, you two were always hanging out like everyday so this wasn’t something new, you tried not to show your sadness so she doesn’t question you about it, you tiredly smile, gesturing your hand to your messy bed.

“Tired already, dude?” Ellie said while walking inside your dorm room, analyzing the clutter all over your small desk, she was trying to notice everything, always observant of you.

The nickname always bugged you, it wasn’t a big deal, Ellie always used it on anyone, but you wanted to feel special, especially since you two were so close, it hurt to hear her say it, you wanted to hear her call your name softly, or at least a simple pet name, something. 'Were you always this needy?' you thought. You sighed deeply, trying to answer her question before making her suspicious,

“Mhm, tried to study but I have a bad headache soo…” you quietly say while looking at the ground, Ellie is already sitting on your bed, feeling comfortable as always, she notices your awkwardness but she only assumed that you’re pretty tired. Out of nowhere she changed her voice to a softer one, gently patting the space on the bed next to her, and you complied.

“Why don’t we watch something 'till you fall asleep, I don’t mind” she quietly says in a soft voice while looking at your tired eyes, waiting patiently for your answer. You nod, you didn’t have the energy to study nor to talk to Ellie about anything because you knew deep down that you will confess to her about your hidden feelings, you were not ready to be rejected tonight or any day really. You switch off the lights as Ellie was browsing something for you two to watch, you sat next to her afterwards, feeling her warmth against your cold skin, making you slightly tremble. You try to think of something else, anything while watching the movie that Ellie chose but your mind always drifted to her presence being so close to you.

It wasn’t something new, you and Ellie always stayed very close to each other, it felt rather safe to feel her skin touching yours, especially when you weren’t feeling your best, but after thinking about your feelings for this girl, the skin on skin touch felt a bit different this time. You tried to move a bit, Ellie always noticed things about you, even though she was focused on the movie, she could feel your awkwardness somehow. She bumped her shoulder into yours, wanting to make you speak up about your mood, you try to hide it from her, slightly humming so it seemed that you were too focused watching the movie or whatever it was, you didn’t even know. Ellie wasn’t happy with the 'answer' so she stopped the movie, sitting up slightly while she was analyzing your face, you tried to avoid her gaze, looking around the room awkwardly.

“Why did you stop the movie?” You softly say, her tone was a bit louder than yours which made you look at her.

“Well, tell me what the fuck is wrong with you first?” She sarcastically said, still looking at you. You have been caught, it was hard to hide your emotions from her, so you tried to come up with a lie about the sadness inside your heart, but at the same time her tone of voice pissed you off, she pissed you off so much sometimes, always so friendly to you. You wanted something else. Yes, she was always a good, caring friend but you wanted another type of caring, her question irritated you for no reason, Ellie was just trying to lighten the mood with a little bit of her usual friendly aggression but it still made you irritated. Your lips were moving without realizing, making the conversation into an awkward one: “Nothing, dude.” you never called Ellie that, it wasn’t your thing, you could clearly see Ellie’s expression changing into a confused one, realizing that you are not in a good mood. She was a bit annoyed but you couldn’t really tell, she was so hard to read sometimes even though you knew her so much. It made you smile a bit, realizing that maybe you pushed a button, you didn’t want to sound stupid but maybe you had a chance, a bit of hope blooming into your heart.

“What did you just call me?” she said in an upset tone, almost mocking this conversation. Suddenly, the air in the room became thicker. “What? You always call me that” you sarcastically say, she looked at you with a slightly annoyed expression.

“I don’t know where this is coming from but what’s gotten into you? If you're mad at me just say so and stop acting like a stupid kid.”

The name offended you, yeah, maybe you were acting a bit childish but you couldn’t stop the petty feeling inside your stomach. So, your mouth still moved without realizing what you were doing, overwhelmed after all these years. “You were the one mad because I called you a stupid nickname, I was just telling that I’m okay but you changed the subject to this shit.” You confidently said, making Ellie even more irritated than she was earlier, “Something’s clearly off about you.” She softly said. “What, you don’t like the little name I gave you?” You finally said it, you were so curious about the small outburst she just had...maybe she felt the same?

Ellie looked at you dead in the eyes. “No fucking shit, of course I don’t like it.” she exhaled sharply before continuing, “Can’t you see it, dumbass? I’m behaving like this because you just called me “dude”, connect the dots.”

You quietly took a deep breath, feeling your heart exploding in your chest, you didn’t want to assume anything but it was clear, too clear that she liked you as well, still, you were scared to say it, there was a small chance that this wasn’t what she was talking about.

“What?” you breathless said, feeling overwhelmed by her presence and what she just said, the air felt even thicker, suffocating your lungs. Ellie almost didn’t hear you, you hear another sigh from her side, suddenly, you feel her getting up from the bed, not even bothering to switch on the lights. She looked down at you and with a slightly forced monotone voice she said “Never mind, this is going nowhere.”

“What do you mean?” you say, louder this time for her to hear you, you were so confused. “This wasn’t the subject to begin with so let’s cut it out, okay?” She moved her gaze from your eyes, looking at the wooden door before opening her mouth again “I’m leaving, just… take some painkillers for your headache and sleep.” Before she could touch the door knob, you interrupt her, “Why are you leaving? I’m sorry, I didn’t want to sound so childish but I promise I'm okay, Ells. I was just…tired from studying so I exploded, I guess?" you awkwardly laugh, waiting for her to come back to sit next to you, you somehow felt guilty, you didn’t want to seem too mad and ruin the whole mood but you couldn’t help it anymore. Ellie heard your sad tone, she bit her lip while opening the door, leaving you alone without saying anything back.

You were shocked to say the least, you didn’t expect this to turn into some kind of argument, you felt so bad, you ruined the whole mood just because of your silly feelings. You should just put those behind, but still you couldn’t take off your mind from what your friend said, 'connect the dots'? Maybe she did like you back, just maybe. You shakily sighed, reaching for your phone from the edge of the bed, texting Ellie 'good night', like usual. You tried to fall asleep with your phone right next to your head, waiting for Ellie's response.

.

.

The sun painted your features while you tried to wake up from the dream you were having. After some time, you managed to wake up, stretching your body while slowly getting up from the bed. You do your usual routine, you needed extra time because, you looked like hell, messy hair and purpleish eye bags, it was obvious why you were having such a rough morning. Ellie was still in your mind rent free, you couldn’t wait to talk to her, you always hated arguing with her over anything, you couldn’t even be mad for a whole day because your heart was screaming at you to just make up (and make out)! You were just that type of person.

After a long cold shower you reach for your phone to see if Ellie at least left you on seen, which she did. It made you smile a bit, she wasn’t completely ignoring you, you still don’t know why she left so suddenly. You could have just talked about the whole thing, maybe even confess. It was Saturday so you felt a bit better, you could just relax from all this stress before the big exams hit you again. You sigh from the thought, after a while, you went to put some clothes on to get some coffee because you were already looked dead enough.

After throwing on some clothes without thinking too much about it, you were on your way to the small coffee shop near campus. Taking slow steps and enjoying the warm weather of spring around you, before realizing, you were already in front of the shop. Out of nowhere, you feel a slight touch on your shoulder, you slowly turn your head to the person, it was Dina, Ellie’s friend. You and her were pretty close but not that close, she was also in one of your classes so it was pretty common to see her around your dorm room, asking for your help on anything really. You warmly smiled at her, you weren’t in the mood but you didn’t want to show it to her right now.

“Hello..” you softly said while she looks at you with a smile.

“Hey, saw you around here, just wanted to say hi.” you nod at her, while gesturing to her to sit down with you at some table around the shop. When you finally found some empty seats she began to speak again in a more serious tone.

“Is everything okay with Ellie?” She curiously asked, it was weird to talk about Ellie without her being here but at the same time you were curious to see her behavior after the conversation you two had.

“Kinda, she was a bit mad yesterday because of me but..” you said while looking around the shop, feeling embarrassed to remember the petty argument.

“I don’t know if I should be in-between you two but…” she stopped before continuing “she was acting, I don’t know, cold? Ignoring me and stuff and I know that you two are very close friends so my mind went to you immediately.”

“This is very stupid but I tried to annoy her with calling her, uh” you wanted to punch yourself, this was so stupid to say out loud, you cringed for a bit before finishing the sentence, “I called her “dude, bro”, can’t remember but I usually don’t do that and she got kinda annoyed with my behavior.” you wince after confessing.

“It was stupid of me to start this but I was a bit annoyed already and yeah…” you looked at Dina, embarrassed. You felt like a teenager. You received a snort from the other side, you quickly look up at her.

“That’s it? Damn.” She still laughed while you look at her even more embarrassed.

“I thought it was a lot more serious by her reaction, lord.” she said.

“Just talk to her, I don’t why she got mad because of that but you can’t ignore her, you know.” She finally changed her facial expression into a more serious one. You try to talk while she shuts you down with her voice."Well it’s kinda obvious why she got mad but you’re her best friend, you should know.” She smiled afterwards, leaning against the small table while analyzing your reaction. You realized what she was trying to tell you, you looked at your feet under the table, trying to avoid this subject at the moment.

“I don’t think I do.” You softly said.

Dina knows Ellie as much as you do, they were kinda close friends, they met in the first year of college but they connected easily afterwards, which was surprising to you since it was kinda hard for Ellie to make any real friends. That’s why you knew you could trust Dina.

After getting no answer out of you, Dina exhaled while trying to change the subject to lighten the mood between you two.

“Just try to talk to her, it’s not even that deep.” she finally ended it with that sentence, receiving a soft sigh from you.

“If you feel too awkward to do it today I can make up an excuse to have a movie night with you, Ellie and maybe Jesse, boom!” she said while waiting for your approval."

“Nothing too awkward, right? Just usual friends shit.” She said.

“True…but I’m not in your friend group, so..” you trailed off, you might be really good friends with her but other than that you are pretty much alone, yeah, you spoke with Dina sometimes because of the classes you shared but it wasn’t that important to you.

“You’re Ellie's friend, it works, plus we should really hang out more.” she said while smiling warmly, grabbing your hand to give it a little squeeze, you finally gave in, accepting her help, also thanking her for the whole effort put into this. You were sure it was going to be awkward but you hoped for the best, exactly how Dina said, it wasn’t that deep.

.

.

After some time talking to Dina, you decided to go back to your room to get ready. The others agreed to the little party, which made you relived. You thought Ellie wasn't going to agree after hearing that you are going to be there too. You planned to relax for a bit before putting on some nice clothes, you wanted to look good at least, the crush wasn’t going away, that’s for sure.

After some hours, you could call yourself ready, for a second, you looked at your reflection, you looked decent. The make up made your features stand out even more, you softly smiled at your reflection, feeling a bit more confident about you seeing Ellie looking like this. You didn’t want to admit it, but you wanted to impress her for no reason. You quietly sighed before taking out your phone to text Dina, she answered you quickly, telling you that everyone is already here. After you saw her message, you quickly reached the door knob to leave your room. Feeling anxious to see the girl, you bit your lip out of nervousness while your legs move quickly to Dina’s dorm room, trying to ignore the overwhelming feeling.

When you reach the wooden door, you took a deep breath before gently knocking, in under a minute, Dina welcomed you with a smile while gesturing to sit on her orange couch. You silently enter the room and immediately, you gaze goes to Ellie, she was wearing some casual clothing, as usual, while she was sharing a joint with two men. Your expression changed drastically to a confused one, you thought only Jesse will be here? You already didn’t know him that well, you couldn’t really bear with another stranger in the room, the feeling of nervousness already hugging your heart, quickly, you feel Dina’s warmth next to you, telling you that she forgot to mention that another friend of hers was coming to this. You tried to be polite with her decision but you still felt slightly agitated since you weren’t really used to new people. Dina saw your expression and she gently smiled, whispering an apology into your ear, also telling you that she didn’t want to ditch this friend since she was already planning on going out with him but she totally forgot, you understand her nevertheless. It wasn’t a big deal anyway so you just patted her shoulder as a thank you for her concerns.

You sit on the couch next to Ellie and the group while Dina was making some drinks for you. You felt Ellie's body tense up when she realized that she's next to you, it was so weird to see her uneasy around you, it kinda hurt. The others began to talk to you, asking if you want to smoke too, you quickly nod, you had to find a reason to escape this knot inside your stomach. You wrapped your fingers around the joint, taking a small hit, before exhaling the smoke into the air, trying not to cough because of the strong scent filling up the tiny room.

"I haven’t seen you around the campus. Freshman?" the stranger quickly strikes up a conversation with you, easing up the awkwardness between you and Ellie. While she was watching you from the corner of her eye, waiting for you to finally talk and hear your honey like voice.

“Not really, I just don’t go to parties.” you simply said, still feeling nervous.

“A shame, I’m Liam by the way.” he said, you felt a bit icky by his comment, hoping he was not flirting with you, it was the last thing you wanted to happen tonight.

“Not for me, I like to spend my time with close friends so this is new.” you continued, feeling a bit awkward by Liam’s sudden curiosity about you, softly playing with your fingers while he was analyzing you very closely that you could feel it inside your bones. The tension breaks when Dina comes holding some glasses, she gently places them on the small round table in front of everyone while she sits on the carpet, the couch was obviously too small.

“Leave the poor girl alone, you're making her shy.” Dina warned Liam, noticing his gaze on your figure. The stranger puts his arms up in defense, apologizing sarcastically, you could feel Ellie’s eyes roll which made you slightly flush in your seat. Luckily for you it was warm inside the tiny room, at least you had an excuse.

You began to relax a bit after a few puffs and a bit of alcohol hitting your system, you weren’t drunk, that’s for sure but at least you could feel a bit comfortable under Ellie’s gaze eating you alive. You try to make conversation with anyone in the room but her, it was harder than you thought. Dina could see the tension between you two, at the end of the day, she made this small party just for you two to make up at some point. She thinks for a bit before she speaks louder than everyone else.

“How about we play a game? We can’t just drink for free.” she smirks. She slowly gets up while you watch her going to the kitchen, after some time, she comes back with an empty water bottle, she places it on the small table right in the middle. You already knew where this is going, especially when you saw the water bottle in her hands, you nervously look at her while everyone but Liam is rolling their eyes at this stupid game.

“Are we 12? The fuck is this?” Ellie finally speaks after an hour of not even saying a word, it was weird to hear her voice after almost 2 days, you could already feel yourself blush, even more deeper than the last time.

“Yeah, yeah, didn’t ask. It can be fun, if you want it to be, so…” Dina says while grabbing the bottle, and spinning it on the table without even asking the others if they want to play, you softly chuckle at her. The empty bottle landed on Jesse, he just looks at it, confused by this game.

“Truth or dare, c'mon.” Dina says, waiting for his answer.

“I’m not doing this…” he quietly says while sighing, already feeling a bit tipsy but nevertheless he continues to play “…truth, I guess.” Dina smiles widely, making a thinking face, being a little too dramatic for this, when she finally knows something to ask, she softly gasps. “Why did you decide to get back together with me?” Dina says quietly this time, feeling a bit weird asking this personal question in front of everyone. Jesse was looking at her shocked, a soft blush on his face while he was thinking, feeling a bit embarrassed by the other's eyes looking at him.

“Because it was a stupid reason to break up, like usual…” he stops, thinking deeply for an answer “I knew we were better than that and I wanted to try it again since I trust you.” He finishes it off without telling any details about the break-up, you were a bit curious but you didn’t want to be nosy about it since you weren’t that close to them. You still smiled at the sweet moment in front of you, Dina tried to be casual about it but you could see her genuine smile under her act. After a few moments, Dina spins the bottle once again, landing on you, you looked at the bottle, nervously thinking of what you should choose, it wasn’t a big deal but you still felt a little knot inside your stomach. “Truth!” you say, still looking at Ellie sneakily to see any reactions from her, you really wanted to talk to her. Your thoughts were interrupted by Jesse’s loud voice, “Let me think..” He says while leaning on the couch thinking of something, “Do you like someone?” You freeze when you felt Ellie’s green eyes on you, impatient with the long wait, you fidget with your fingers, thinking of a safe answer, but you still wanted to say the truth. Maybe it’s time to give a little sign to the girl next to you, it didn’t need to be specific so you were safe.

After some time, you nod, feeling Ellie tense next to you, it wasn’t allowed to ask anything else so the game continued. You could tell that Ellie's confused by your answer. She thought that you didn’t like anyone, since you two always told each other everything, it made you a smile a little, finally getting a reaction out of her.

The game continued for a bit, and finally the bottle landed on Liam, the stranger, he confidently chose dare, he was the first one to do so. Dina was feeling a bit braver because of the alcohol so she asked him to kiss the prettiest person in the room. Oh, no. Dina didn’t know if this was a good idea but the tension between you and Ellie was getting under her skin, like just talk to each other? It was clear that you two like each other, but you were the only ones who didn’t see it.

When Liam heard the dare, he looked straight to you, you felt his gaze, already feeling tense about this. You didn’t want it but it was just a simple dare at the end of day, you didn’t want to ruin the mood in the room so you just went with the flow and with whatever Dina was doing right now. You could feel him getting closer to you while Ellie was watching the whole thing silently, after a few seconds, you could see his face clearly, a bit dazed by the weed, looking at you lustily without feeling any shame that everyone is watching his every move. Without even asking, he puts his hand on yours and pecks your lips, you almost wanted to throw up after you felt his lips again, wanting to kiss you properly. You firmly pushed him away, receiving a whine from him, he did too out of nowhere, it made you even more uncomfortable but you still tried to ignore the feeling.

“The dare said one kiss.” you say, while Dina grabs Liam’s shirt, putting him in place. Liam rolled his eyes, sitting silently on the couch, while you look at the carpet under your feet. You felt a bit embarrassed by this whole thing, especially by Liam’s reaction, it made you feel unpleasant. So, after a few rounds you excused yourself to the bathroom, telling everyone that you feel a bit sick because of the alcohol. Nobody's suspicious, other than Ellie.

You reach the small bathroom, washing your red face with some cold water to wake you up, afterwards you grab the small towel and you bury your face in it. The door opens quietly, you turn your gaze to the person, when you see Ellie in front you, you softly smile. You couldn’t wait anymore, you just wanted to hear her voice, you were so used to seeing her everyday, hearing her everyday, it was such a hard task not to do those things with her.

You didn’t get any answer from her, she quickly gets closer to you, analyzing your face, everything. You look up at her, feeling overwhelmed under her strong gaze. She opens her mouth after a while: “Are you okay?” She gently says, receiving a reassuring smile from you, Ellie sighs, putting her hands inside her pocket out of nervousness before speaking again “It was obvious that you were uncomfortable in there, you shouldn’t have let that dick touch you.” She says, a bit irritated than the last time."

“Well it was a dare, plus I didn’t want to ruin the whole mood.” you say.

“Who cares about that? I wanted to punch that asshole the first time he talked to you, don’t care about the mood.” she sternly says, her comment made your heart flutter a bit, you try to ignore the feeling, too distracted by her face, you softly counted every freckle on her face, she was so pretty, you thought.

“Are you even listening? Think about your well being, not the others’” she speaks a bit louder this time, waking you up from your thoughts, you try to hide your blush from her through your hair.

“Thank you for being so caring but I’m fine.” you finally looked up at her, reassuring her that you’re okay after all of this.

“He clearly flirted with you too.” Ellie says annoyed, still focused on her thoughts, pressing on the subject. You look away from her, you didn’t want to piss her even more. She sees your reaction, she couldn’t quite figure it out what you were thinking, so she assumed the worse, feeling herself getting even more irritated than she already was.

“You didn’t have a problem with that?” she insisted, your eyes lock with hers, sensing her jealousy in the air.

“Are you jealous?” you felt a bit braver than the last few hours.

“No.” she quickly says, which made you a bit sad but you try to hide it, you still wanted to press on the matter exactly how she was doing.

“Then stop asking me things.” you say in a serious tone, which makes Ellie clench her hands inside her pockets.

“I won’t stop, I need to know. I’m your friend.” she says

“Why? It’s not that important, no need to get mad.” you switch your attitude a bit, talking too much for your own good.

“It’s important for me then.” she sternly says, before sighing, she couldn’t hold it anymore not when she had you like this, in this situation, she was too jealous.

“You think I can hold myself together when I see that fucker get closer to you? Even breathe next to you? I can feel a knot in my stomach, I wanted to rip his arms out so he can’t touch you like that.” she finally says it, letting her anger take control of her. You look at her, shocked, you couldn’t believe your ears. You seriously thought you were just in one of your dreams about her. Your drunk mind can’t process this right.

"...Huh?" you wanted to pinch yourself, to check if this is actually reality and not some fantasy of yours. Ellie began leaning closer to you, making you back away until your body gently hit the sink. You tried to gaze somewhere else other than her pink chapped lips, but you failed miserably.

"You're drunk.." you mutter, if she was gonna steal your first kiss it might as well be a genuine one, not one that you forget about next morning. But still, you couldn't really resist much longer, your whole body felt hot as her gaze pierced your lips, you could feel her getting closer to your ear.

"Can I kiss you?" she whispered simply, making you shiver.

This was the last straw for you, you grabbed her collar and pulled her closer to you, making your lips smash into eachother. The kiss felt so relieving, after all these years of pining for her, daydreaming and dreaming about how her hands would feel on your waist, the way her body felt against yours and her scent. It was driving you crazy, you wanted to feel her fingers and mouth on your body, you wanted her to mark your skin and make you scream of pleasure.

You felt her tongue brush against your teeth, asking for permission to deepen the kiss, you let out a whimper as you open your mouth slightly for her. The kiss gets messy, you feel saliva on your chin and her hands touching every inch of your body. You wanted more.

"Please, I wanna feel you." you whine quietly. You wonder how much time is left before anyone checks up on you, you've been here for quite a while. "Who's stopping you, babe? I'm all yours." Ellie says as she takes your hand and slips it under her shirt. You grab Ellie by her hips and switch places, now she's pinned against the sink. You take a quick look at her and realize how fucking hot this all is, strands of her hair were sticking to her face because of the sweat, her collarbones were showing a bit, you might've pulled on her collar a bit too much, she had rose tinted cheeks and she was looking at you with lust-filled eyes. She was so sexy.

You nibble at her neck and lick your way down to her collarbone, as you grab her waist. She grunts, clearly enjoying this as she grabs your hair and pulls gently, and wow, that felt good. You positioned your knee between her legs, supported by the cupboard under the sink. She lets out a low moan, surprised by the sudden contact. You cup her chin and kiss her again passionately as she grinds against your leg.

"F-Fuck, keep going..." she uttered, interrupting her heavy breathing. You grab her hips, moving her forward and backwards, creating friction as she slowly puts her arms around you , nuzzling your neck, when suddenly: "Hey, I've been holding it in forever!" Dina yells as she bangs at the door. Shit.

You gently fix Ellie's collar and she fixes your hair for you as you awkwardly mutter an 'oops' and then you reach for the doorknob. As the door opened, Dina's expression changes from annoyed to smug real fast. She definitely noticed our breathlessness and flush on our cheeks.

"Go home," she whispered "I'll make up an excuse for you." You were so gonna get made fun of for doing this in her tiny bathroom for the next week...or months...years? Ellie grabs your wrist and drags you to the front door quietly, you yelled out a 'bye' as you hurriedly leave the dorm room. Luckily, her room is just a few rooms away from Dina's, how convenient.

You both enter the room and get straight to it, as the door shuts behind you, Ellie kisses you aggressively. As you made out, you quickly found yourselves on the bed, breathless and really horny.

"Ellie...I- I wanna see you." you mutter during the pauses between your kisses, and Ellie fulfilled your wish fast, turning on the lamp on the nightstand. As your eyes got used to the brightness, you notice her iconic galaxy themed bedsheets, you'll never get used to this.

"Pff- When are you gonna replace these?" you laugh, trying not to ruin the mood.

"Just shut up and kiss me."

And so, you obeyed. Things were getting heated and you couldn't wait anymore, you unzipped her jeans and tossed them on the floor while she was admiring you closely. You pinned her against the bed and slid your hand in her boxers, making her breath hitch. Suddenly, your confidence drops drastically. You've never done this before. Ellie noticed the change in your demeanor and stopped.

"This is your first time, right?" she asked calmly. "Want me to top?"

You totally forgot that she actually knows what she's doing, you buried the fact that she's done this with other people deep in your mind. You were extremely jealous, you wanted to be special to her, to be the only one she did this with.

"Ah, no- I- I wanna to make you feel good." you stammered, embarrassed.

"You sure? I don't wanna for-" she gets cut off by the sudden feeling of your fingers teasing her cunt. She involuntarily squeezed her thighs together as you started to rub you fingertips gently around her clit. She was so sensitive and aroused, it was almost pathetic. You paused for a bit to take your blouse off, it was way too hot in here. You quickly slid her boxers off too and lifted Ellie's shirt up to reveal her pale, freckled skin. You slowly trailed soft kisses down her stomach, you could feel her eyes watching your every move as you slowly pushed her legs apart.

You were so nervous, you could feel your hands shaking. The alcohol was starting to wear off, this was definitely not a dream. Trying to steady your breathing, you admired her body and looked up at her. Her eyes were half closed, filled with anticipation, she looked so vulnerable and fragile.

You slowly tease her with your tongue, licking everything but her sweetspot as she squirms under you. As you continue teasing her she starts getting visibly impatient, grabbing your hair and forcing your tongue to apply more pressure.

"Come on, stop fucking teasing me." she whined. You softly chuckled when suddenly you grabbed her thighs and spread them out more, making her gasp. Without any warning, you start eating her out. Ellie couldn't help but moan at the sudden change in intensity, one of her hand grasping a lock of your hair as the other one covered her face.

You glance up to look at her and for a minute you pause : "Don't hide your face." She silently nods and interlocks your hand with yours and you continue to stimulate her. After a while of getting her wet, you finally slowly insert a finger inside of her, making her slightly arch her back. You look at her, silently asking for permission to move and she nods desperately. You slowly start moving, trying to find the right spot and after a while you hear a sudden gasp and her tightening around your finger. You smirk proudly, then add another finger. You start moving faster and faster, her breathing was getting heavier as your other hand grabbed her breast, teasing it.

Her moans became more and more loud, it was driving you crazy. You could feel her getting closer by the way she was squeezing you with her thighs.

"'m gonna cum...please- I- I love you so fucking mu-" she manages to blurt out. The sudden confession made you so riled up, you began to pound your fingers into her faster until the wave of pleasure washed over her.

After her breathing started steadying, you slowly removed your fingers and leaned down to kiss her forehead. "I've been waiting to hear that for years...I love you too, Ellie" you whisper.

''Fuck...me too, you should've told me earlier.'' she says while she tries to shakily hug you, holding you even closer to her warm body. You smile in her neck, sighing in relief. Ellie still continues to pour her heart out to you; ''Since we were teenagers, I've always dreamed of this moment..but I was scared to tell you, I didn't even know if you like girls.'' she says, you finally face her, pecking her pink lips. ''I'm sorry, I was stupid, if I told you earlier..'' she looks at you lovingly but at the same time a bit sad that it took her so long. You couldn't care about the past, you were so happy that the feelings were finally mutual. You grab her face, kissing her passionately to shut her up while muttering into her kiss.

''It's okay, we have each other now." you quietly say while the moon watches over you.

author’s note: if this doesn’t get popular I’m going to hang myself. ☺️

[osleeplessflowero]

it's currently my birthday so here's some headcanons as to how i think skeletons would act/what they would do on YOUR birthday! (featuring a TON of au characters! :D)

Sans

Might be the one to push your face into your cake. It's a gamble with him. If it's not that, he'll definitely prank you somehow during the day (something lighthearted and fun, of course.) He wants to make sure you have a blast. I could see him getting you something funny, like a shirt with a funny phrase on it you could wear over and over.

Papyrus

He'd be the type to set up the party games, especially something like a Pinata to hit! He might hit it a liiiiittle too hard..but it's okay. Just means you get candy faster! He'd want to make your day something super fun to remember. He's dead set on changing things up each year to make each day memorable.

Red

WILL push your face into your cake, no questions asked. Provided you blew out your candles first (if you have any). He'd definitely want to take you somewhere fun for your birthday, messing with you from time to time to get a laugh. Definitely would want to get you something you could use a lot, or something you've mentioned wanting before. He keeps tabs on these things!

Edge

If he likes you a lot, he'll get you something really nice and insist you keep it taken care of, letting you know he cares in his own ways. Although he might not be as energetic as his brother might be on your special day, he still stays close by and ensures you're having plenty of fun. He's also one of the more rational members of the skeleton group, keeping the others in line so nothing goes wrong.

Blue

INSISTS on being the person to wake you up. He wants to be the first person to tell you but deep down he knows someone else beat him to it during the night, but that won't stop him from enthusiastically singing the Happy Birthday song anyway! He's probably the one to prepare you for an exciting day of fun, planned out with your best interests in mind. (His brother helped out of course by slapping some fun stickers on the schedule.) He might be one of the first people to give you his presents, letting you open it earlier in the day with him present.

Stretch & Rus

These two pretty much share a braincell, so naturally they'd race to be the first to send birthday wishes right at midnight. Funnily enough there's never an exact victor, they always send their messages at the exact same time. During the daylight hours, they stick together to cause plenty of chaos to get smiles and laughter out of you. They might pull a few pranks to tease you, but nothing too far of course. Rus would make some really cool art as a gift for you, anything you could possibly want him to draw or paint. As for Stretch, he'd work with Blue to get something you'd be able to have plenty of fun with (and of course, to use together).

Black

Oh does this man SPOIL you. He'll take you anywhere you want to go, no matter the cost, ensuring you he'll handle everything for your special day. You name anything, he'll get it for you right away. Also one of the men in charge of keeping the others in line so nothing goes too crazy. At least, until alcohol's brought out..then he leaves it up to Edge. ;)

Mars & Jupiter

The Horror bros are a bit less energetic when it comes to your birthday, opting to do something more personal for you. They'd give you their gifts alone so only they get to see your reactions. Jupiter would probably be the one to bake your cake in the first place, shooing everyone else out of the kitchen so he can perfect it. (Soo much spoon smacking..) They'd definitely steal you away a few times during the day to have some relaxing time together. Mars doesn't really like crowds..but he'd be willing to stay in a room with everyone for you.

[Berry is on his best behavior..just for today.]

Stepping out of the Neighborhood AU and into the Multiverse...

Dream, Ink, and Blue(again)!

Dream is SUPER excited for your birthday! He made sure to figure out all your favorite things so there's plenty of joy and positivity. Ink made sure to set up a really nice area for the three of you to celebrate, and maaaaybe set up some sort of water/paint balloon fights for some fun. Blue is in charge of activities and making sure Ink's chaos doesn't get too out of hand!

The Bad Sanses

Killer makes sure to be the first one to wake you up, singing the happy birthday song enthusiastically to embarrass you. Dust and Horror will be a bit more calm than he is, messing up your hair and giving you little affectionate/friendly gestures. Nightmare sets up a grand party for you, decorating the castle to the very best of his ability. He'll do his best to make things absolutely perfect for one of his favorite group members (don't tell the others, especially not Killer!). They all made sure to pitch in and get you some things that you'd thoroughly enjoy (just don't ask WHERE they got them from, okay?)

Error

He might have kidnapped you. But you're usually cool with it so it's okay. He's not particularly crazy about the idea of a big extravagant birthday party, so he sets up a day where you can spend time together watching your favorite shows in the Anti Void. As for his gift? Well, I could see him making some little puppets for you to have, maybe one of himself so when you hug it you'll think about him. (And since he's still adapting to physical touch himself.)

Cross

Cross wants to spend as much time with you as he can on your birthday. He's not one for big, extravagant things, but he would do something personal and sweet for you to make you happy, just content to spend time making you feel special. He might take you stargazing or something similar, a fun thing for both of you to do.

Bonus!

Fresh! (i will write about him at least once i swear. platonic fresh enjoyers this is for you)

You already KNOW Fresh is on top of things when it comes to his best bud's birthday! He'd definitely bring you somewhere where you both would have plenty of room to mess around and cause some chaos. No where is safe! I could see him dragging you to something like a skate park or to go spray paint some stuff. Or maybe to go see a movie together you can both laugh at. If he can't hang out with you alone, he'll show up at the Star Sanses' party to surprise you there.

[pixelmensupremacy]

can i request a fic where the reader is taking care of Leon after he got a bit too drunk at the bar and he’s confessing his love for the reader. “I love you” “I fantasize about you” “I see a future with us”

and the reader just laughs it off as drunk behavior and gets him to bed safely, but the next morning they wake up in each other’s arms and he confesses, “I remember what I said last night. It was all real.” And they end up having some really sweet, soft, lazy morning sex which ends with Leon asking the reader to be his significant other?

Hope this makes sense and thank u for writing stories! 💕

A/N: That idea is very sweet, hope you enjoy how it turned out!

Word count: 2.4k

WARNINGS: not proofread, fem!reader, 18+, MDNI, drunk confessions, fluff, morning sex, dirty talk

Stomping their way down Leon’s apartment building, (Y/N) struggled under the weight of the man- that practically was laying on her shoulder- was on the verge of passing out; despite his arms being locked around her shoulders in a firm hold, he had a hard time balancing his weight on his wobbly legs. His vision was hazy, his limbs felt numb and warm under the influence of the alcohol running in his bloodstream. His head hanged limp near her own, his messy golden bangs fell in his face, his mouth was agape; the distinct odor of booze oozed from his hot breath, cluing just how much he drank before she got him home.

The dull lights placed on either side of the hallway did little to aid her in finding the keyhole of his apartment door; a click echoed across the gloomy space as she twisted the doorknob and walked through the entranced with Leon nuzzled into her side. Hitting the switch, (Y/N) headed for his bedroom, which, luckily for her, was right around the corner. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead as she was finally able to take a glimpse of the bedroom door; her muscles were burning in protest with each step she took further. She gritted her teeth, her hold on him tightened as the pushed to her very limit; the few moments it took her to reach the bed felt like hours. Gently, she laid him on the mattress, her worried gaze lingered on his features; his ruffled hair stuck out in multiple directions akin to the rays of the sun, untypically to his usual, perfectly combed flow of golden locks, his cheekbones were dusted in soft cherry color that was visible even in the dead of night under the dim moonshine that broke through the curtains, his puffy, half lidded eyes lazily gazed at her, a shimmer danced behind the curtain of dense eyelashes. Even now, in such state he somehow managed to look effortlessly perfect- he was truly a wonder of life.

Now that she had the weight off of her shoulders, she headed to the kitchen in search of ibuprofen and a glass of water. Browsing through the contents of his cabinets, she wasn’t surprised to find a small red box she had left in the exact same spot a while back. Grabbing the biggest glass she could find, she filled it all the way up and returned to her friend, who appeared to have fallen asleep. Sitting by his side- careful not to stir him awake- she couldn’t help but wonder how it all came to this. Having known him for as long she has, she couldn’t remember the last time she had seen him that peaceful; melancholy clenched her heart at the memory of their earlier days, back in the academy, when where two young, naïve kids with big dreams. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she smiled at the memory, yet she wanted to brush away any thought of the past before she found herself lost in the regrets of past mistakes.

Drying the tear with her hand, she turned her head away from his sleeping form and gazed through the window, wondering where she messed up. Letting out a deep sigh, she stood up only to be obstructed of doing so by a hand holding onto hers; a familiar sensation tingled the skin of her hand- a sensation she connected to her past.

“Please don’t leave, I need you.” Leon uttered in a pleading voice that pulled at the strings of her heart; looking behind her shoulder, she was met with the sight of his baby blue eyes already gazing at her. “Stay with me. Just for tonight.” She bit back the smile that threatened to curl the corners of her lips at the sound of his words; she wasn’t unfamiliar with his clingy nature, for she had gotten used to it after every time she took care of him while drunk, yet she couldn’t help the warm sensation that pooled in her stomach whenever he would get extremely cuddly and even flirt with a genuine expression on his face- if she didn’t know better, she would’ve thought he was being genuine.

“Sure, but only if you promise not to puke on me.” (Y/N) spoke in all seriousness, whilst Leon giggled at the memory of her disgusted face as she had explained to him in great detail about their adventures of yet another drunken night, he didn’t remember that vividly.

“When have I let you down?” He raised his brow at her with his weight resting on his prompted shoulder; silently she gazed back at him, contemplating for a short moment before she inevitably gave in to her desires. She lied down next to him not even bothering to change into the pair of pajamas she had left here, for she was far too tired to do so; wrapping the two of them in a blanked, she soon was trapped in the firm hold of Leon’s arms that had wrapped around the small of her back. Heat rose to her cheeks as she felt him bury his nose on the crook of her neck with his calm breathing tingling her skin. Her hand found its place on his broad back, whilst her other one tangled in his hair.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while now- I’ve been thinking about you.” Leon’s calm voice anchored her attention; her curious gaze glanced at the crown of his head, unable to take a glimpse of his face. “I realized something… Something I was too blind to see up until now.” He spoke between breaths, each pause longer than the previous as he searched for the right words to say; (Y/N)’s heartbeat accelerated as she was eager to hear what it was that seemingly troubled his mind.

“You’re the most important person in my life and I...” He trailed off, his breath hitched. “I can’t imagine my future without you.” Her whole face felt hot and it wasn’t until a stream of tears ran down her warm cheeks that she realized her eyes were tearing up.

“You need some sleep, Leon.” She spoke before he could say anything else; silence followed as the two laid in each other’s embrace, deep in thought.

Bright, morning sunrays slipped past the curtains, throwing light on the two sleeping friends. Irritated by the brightness, (Y/N) fluttered her eyes open and was immediately met with the sight of Leon still sound asleep in her arms; seeing him, she was reminded of the events of the night before- was it all just a dream? She let out a deep sigh, a sudden need to drink water interrupted her train of thought; much to her dismay that much needed visit to the kitchen was paved with obstacles, the biggest of which was Leon’s sleeping form that was tangled with hers. Carefully, she tried to free herself from the mess of intertwined limbs, yet to no avail; he let out an audible sigh as he stretched his arms before wrapping them around her waist, bringing her closer to his chest.

“Morning.” His voice was husky, his azure irises bore in her, the slightest of smiles curled the corners of his plump lips.

“Sorry for waking you up, how are you feeling?” She asked him, momentarily disregarding her own needs.

“Aside from the headache, I haven’t felt better.” His dreamy gaze continued to bore into her, unintentionally pulling her to him akin to a moth to a flame.

“That’s good, I suppose. It means you can manage on your own-” She began as she peeled his arms off of her.

“Where are you going?” He pouted as he watched her get up.

“I gotta get going.” Disappointment flashed in his eyes as he sat and watched her put on her jeans.

“About last night” Her gaze was immediately anchored to him. “I meant what I said and I have one more thing to say.” He stood up, his face was just a mere inch away from hers. “I love you, I always have.” He stared at her, anticipating her reaction; she stood still, speechless all the while everything within her was screaming for her to confess her own feelings.

“Leon, I-“

“It’s okay of you don’t feel the same, I just wanted to let you know.” He shied away, his- now bashful- gaze faced away from hers.

“No, no it’s not like that.” She caught his hand, pulling it towards her. “I just.. I feel the same way.” She cupped his face, anchoring his attention to her and more so to her lips that appeared more kissable than Leon remembered. The few moments it took the two to close the distance between them felt like prolonged as their two worlds collided into a fusion of one huge explosion of repressed emotions and hidden desires. Their hands roamed each other’s body, squeezing at any soft flesh they came across; gasps and soft moans echoed across the room as the two were hungrily kissing one another.

Pulling away, (Y/N) rested her hands on his chest, sensing how hard his heart was pounding against his ribs and how his heartfelt chuckle resonated through him. A glimmer of sheer happiness sparkled in her eyes as she gazed at his equally shiny azure irises.

“Why haven’t you told me this earlier?” She raised her eyebrow at him as her arms rested on his shoulders, keeping him close.

“Does it matter, now that you know?” He peppered her skin with kisses, trailing along her jaw and down her neck, causing a quiet whimper to roll down her agape lips; his hands slithered down her back and hips, groping at the plush skin of her thighs as her lifted her off the ground and pressed her against the wall. She yelped; her hands held onto his shoulders. Shivers ran down her spine at the sensation of the cold wall against her back that soon faded away as his hot lips warmed her up. Her fingers were buried in his locks as his wandering mouth slowly crept back to her lips, where he kissed and gently bit at her bottom lip.

Pulling back, Leon took his time observing her flustered face as his fingers slipped under the fabric of her shirt and took it off in one swift motions, her pants had similar fate; with her legs wrapped around his waist, he managed to pull them just enough to expose her needy hole. With his lustful gaze locked on hers, he grinded against her bare pussy, coating his still clothed cock with her arousal. She breathed out his name, pleading for him stop teasing her; he only let out a chuckle, his now darker blues bore into her desperate (E/C) ones, the intensity of his wanting gaze caused her body to quiver in excitement.

“How bad do you want this?” His arm rose, stroking her cheek; she leaned into his touch as she hummed in response.

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Please, Leon… Fuck me.” She stared right back at him through half lidded eyes; these words of hers unleashed something within him, something that had been hidden, buried deep inside him, a primal need so strong he himself was afraid to unleash, yet now that net of repressed emotions was unraveled and there was no undoing what was done. His lips crashed with hers as he carried her back to his bed; hovering above her, he got finally got rid of the rest of her clothing, he darted his tongue across his lips at the sight- it was everything he had imagined and so much more. Closely, (Y/N) watched as he took of his clothes, slowly revealing the masterpiece of a body he had.

The excitement was rushing in his bloodstream and directly to his hardened cock, making it impossible for him to think straight. Aligning his dick with her dripping entrance, he gazed at, silently asking for permission to grand them the ultimate pleasure the both of them were after. She gave him a soft, sweet smile that melted his heart. Wasting no time, he entered slowly, gradually applying pressure; once he was all the way in, he backed out just as slowly. Each thrust grew faster and more impactful than the previous one and soon (Y/N)’s whimpers turned into whines and moans of utter bliss. Her sounds tingled his every sense, entrancing him in a state of oblivion regarding anything else but her; even though- in his loneliest nights- he had found himself imagining what she would sound like, feel like he had never been even slightly close to the real-life experience, which proved to be far better than anything his fantasy could produce.

“You’re so pretty like that.. So messy and worked up.” He spoke in between grunts, aligning his words with the pace of his movements; his hips rolled in steady motion hitting the spot that had her seeing stars. “I’ve thought about this too.. Fuck.” She let out a loud moan, her walls fluttered, deviously wrapping around his throbbing cock.

“I’ve though how you would take me, how you would squirm under me and moan my name. How your pussy feels and how you scratch my back. Though I gotta admit the actual thing is even better.” Uncontrollable moans rolled down his plump lips as he went on about his dirty fantasies, whilst his hips never stopped hitting her sweet spot.

“Oh, Leon.” She screamed as she felt the knot in her lower stomach unraveling under the impact of his cock brushing against her sensitive folds that were now clenching around his cock; her vison got hazy as her whole body tingled.

“I won’t last long if you squeeze me like that.” He grunted as the blissful sensation was too much for his body to bear. His thrust grew sloppy, his breathing got heavy as he felt a hot wave of utter bliss washed over him; his hot release coated her walls and dripped down her drenched hole. Tired, Leon laid next to her with his cock still buried deep in her folds; he peppered her bare shoulder with kisses, whilst his arms gently caressed her body, cherishing every dip and curve.

“I love you.” (Y/N) turned around to face him, her gaze immediately coming in contact with his.

“Does that mean you’re my girl?” Heat rose up to her cheeks at the sound of these words.

“Yup.” She smiled at him in bashful manner as if she hadn’t shamelessly moaned his name just a minute ago.

“I’m glad.” He planted a kiss atop her nose before he pulled her closer and covered their bodies with a blanket and drifted into peaceful slumber.

[thebitchesterbrothers]

Remember this?

I couldn’t stop thinking about about it, so …

I wrote something. Here it is.

_____________________________________________

Hob was waiting at the bar for about forty minutes now for Dream to finally show up for his shift.

It was a friday night and the inn was already packed with party loving students.

His employees were busy waiting tables and handing out beer at the bar…except for one employee. Dream.

When Hob had reopened the inn, after completely renovating it, he had hired Dream as a bartender right away. He had experience, his drinks were amazing and a hit with the students and it didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes too. Not that that was the reason Hob hired him in the first place but hey, Hob had eyes.

Eyes that just loved watching Dream shake his drinks and look bored while doing it.

Before starting to work at the inn Dream was working for an expensive restaurant in a posh part of London. Hob should’ve been suspicious why a guy like Dream would give up that job for the inn.

Now he was convinced that Dream must’ve been close to being fired for his missing work ethics at his old job.

He was constantly late for his shifts without any explanation or excuse for his boss. He drank his fair share of shots while working. He went home an hour before his shift ended without saying anything to anybody.

He ignored customers he didn’t like. He smoked cigarettes in the kitchen and weed behind the building.

But still Hob couldn’t bring himself to fire him.

Every time he planned to confront him and have a serious talk with him … he just couldn’t bring himself to actually do it.

He would make up random excuses in his head for Dream's behavior. Maybe he was going through a hard time? Maybe he didn’t know better? Maybe he wasn’t feeling comfortable around his coworkers?

And despite his problematic attitude the customers loved him. They were all too happy to spend their hard earned money on fancy and more expensive drinks instead of cheap beer just so they had the chance to talk to the hot bartender.

Dream would gift some of them with a playful smile and get a ridiculous amount of tips in return.

It drove Hob absolutely insane. It drove him insane that he would do the exact same thing to make Dream smile at him like that.

He was well aware of his stupid crush on his employee. He knew it wasn’t very professional.

He was aware that this crush was the real reason he had not fired Dream yet. He wasn’t proud of himself, thank you very much.

Dream was in his twenties and more beautiful than anyone Hob had ever seen. He had that mysterious aura and eyes to get lost in.

Meanwhile Hob was a history professor in his thirties who spent too much time in his own bar ogling his employee. He was quite a few years older than the object of his desire and not nearly as attractive as Dream. He never would have a chance with him and he had accepted that months ago. It still hurt sometimes.

Not that he knew what exactly Dreams' type was. Women? Men? Both?

As much as everyone flirted with his bartender, Dream never took anyone home as far as Hob had noticed.

„Nice of you to finally show up, Dream!“, one of his waitresses interrupted Hobs thoughts.

Dream had just come through the back door, tying a black apron around his slim hips, looking bored and not apologetic at all.

„Dream! A word?“, Hob turned around towards his office without waiting for an answer. As expected, Dream followed slowly, clearly not in a hurry.

Hob sat on the edge of his cluttered desk, crossing his arms, watching Dream closing the door behind him. Did he lock it?

Before he could say anything, Dream beat him to it.

„What is it, boss?“ God damn, that voice.

„Dream, you’re almost an hour late. Everyone was waiting for you. You do whatever the hell you want. I should fire you, you know“, Hob sighed.

At that Dream smirked, stepping closer to Hobs desk and between his outstretched legs.

„Yes, yes you should. So tell me…why haven’t you fired me yet? Hmm, Hob? Why do I still have my job?“

Hob didn’t have a satisfying answer for him. Dream came even closer, his legs touching the inner side of Hob's clothed inner thighs. He could still feel the warmth of the other man through his jeans. How was he supposed to think like that?

„Hob…I mean boss…I think we both know why I still have my job. You just enjoy watching me behind the bar a bit too much, don’t you?“

Oh how Hob hated this arrogant little prick. How he hated that he was right.

„Oh Hob“, Dream smiled and tucked a strand of Hob's hair behind his ear. If Hob would just tilt his head a little to the left his nose would touch Dreams slightly stubbled cheek.

„Dream, this is highly inappropriate…“ Hob managed to force out. He should stop this. He should push him away. He was the boss, Dream was his employee.

Dream‘s eyes crinkled with mirth and raised his dark eyebrows.

„Very inappropriate, yes. Seems like you have to fire me after all, boss.“

Before Hob could react to that, Dream had cupped his face in his hand, his other surprisingly strong arm snaking around Hob‘s waist, pulling him closer into his chest before their lips met in a kiss that made Hob lose every single thought he just had.

Dreams' lips tasted of rum and irresponsibility and Hob decided that he would never get enough of it.

‚I never was a good boss anyway‘, he thought to himself before pulling a laughing Dream up the stairs into his flat. Dream was late anyway, what difference would a few more hours make?

[blueparadis]

꒰ SOMETHING ABOUT U ꒱ ⋮ KAEYA ALBERICH → [ CONTENT & TAGS ]:fem!reader, references to canon divergent lores ( mixed with my ideas; nothing promising but i needed to get this months old idea out of brain so that i can focus on other activitis :">) , kaeya has obsessive behavior, angst, mention of prostituion, implicit smut. word count —2k // back to blog navigation. // beta read by my beloved ari @orchid3a . also tagging @kaelily <3.

synopsis:: “Beyond the sea, against the waves

where the sea and sky meet, where tides kiss the moon,

A protector shall be re-born, and Khaenri’ah will rise once again with retribution.”

Many grave and galant eclipses and solstices have been witnessed by the mortals, humans lived and died but the protector did not return. A prophecy that was made years ago has now made it to the front page of the newspaper with the headline, “DID THE GODS GRANT MERCY TO THE KHAENRI’AHNS ?”

A year ago Kaeya Alberich would neither have believed in this prophecy nor would have sworn to pursue the veiled truth and call it ‘fate’. But now, his ship sails across the oceans with him sitting in his personal chamber holding a brown paper, reading the same article that was published a year ago while a girl sleeps in his bed.

His million moras haul, alive and breathing.

Kaeya settles at the edge of his bed swirling the wine in his goblet. With your eyes closed, bosom rising and falling at a slow steady speed he thinks you look like one of those sleeping fairies inside those nyctinastic flowers that he once saw in picture-book when he was a toddler; he accidentally stumbled upon it and saw the wonders that belonged to the out of the word, this word— a child sitting at one of the corners of the library, hiding from the Archon’s wrath, hiding and protecting, hiding and fearing. He is not someone to put faith in the Archons. He does not feel anything about the mocking existence of the Archons, neither rebel nor rage; nothing. Therefore, must he be the one to go against the waves and wind, against the sun and moon, against the gods?

But if Archons were to really exist as people claim, then perhaps it was the Archons' will when his eyes fell on you for the very first time, on that cold night, on that dead island under an enormous tree as you were lying half-clad, breathing but barely alive. While his home was swallowed by the oceans five hundred years ago with no trace at the bottom of the sea, there was you, a fragile creature taking the last of its breaths. He found you in the exact same place where once he breathed and lived in the air of Khaenri’ah. Kaeya does not believe in the Gods, but he does believe in ‘miracles’, and ‘chance encounters’. Now he is ready to believe in some years-old prophecy.

A flame flickering to live on still delivers light.

The winds were treacherous that night, they were not howling like other stormy nights Kaeya had endured. There was an uncanny smell in the winds of the island, a smell that he can neither remember nor recognize, the mixed smell of something greater, something divine— like ichor, blood and bones. He could hear something eccentric too; He knew the winds of the sea like a caterpillar knows its fate to become a butterfly. But this was different, a foreign feeling. It felt like the wind was whispering right into his ears. He has never felt so hollow before. 

That was the first time he heard how hollow he was. It is like when someone was blows air through a hollow pipe so rapid, so full and so hollow that it is on the verge of breaking. Standing there in the dead of the night, with his crew busy at the shore decking the ship he could not separate between himself and those bullet shells that looted lives while his eyes glimmered at your corpse-like body in the pale moonlight, lips trembling and then curving into a crescent. 

The clanking sound of bullet shells hitting the floor, the sound of blazing homes which once were made with love and care, the screams of the dying, and the smell of the dead— he remembers it all. It might have been five hundred years ago for others, but it was still fresh as a morning dew in his mind. He can not forget. Every time he sleeps, he dreams of destruction and every time he is awake he vows on vengeance.

“Woah! Careful there,” Last time when Kaeya was here you had been sleeping. You have been in and out of slumber for a week now. He helped to restore your balance as you tried to wake up and stacked a few pillows behind your back so that you sit at ease. You do not resist, do not have enough power to do so. The marks on your skin are slowly fading, your eyes are now much more expressive, lips and ankles devoid of any fine lines. The only scratch on your body is on your forehead, a star, and a half circle at the lower end of the star. It is very faint now but its there. It was raw and fresh at the night when he first laid you on his bed. It seemed like someone carved it with a knife but there was no dried blood along the scar or anywhere on your body. 

Last month, precisely, a week ago, when Kaeya fetched a doctor for you from the port city of Mondstadt, Dorman, he did not mention anything about the scar. Even when he asked about it specifically, all he got was a laugh at its non-existence. But he can see it, clear as a day. 

“You are doing a lot better than when I first saw you.” He admits as you finally look at him. “Are you hungry? Last night you did not eat much.” It has become a part of his routine now. Being there when you wake up, helping you, telling you stories, taking you out on the deck, watching you from afar when you are awake, and watching you up close when you are asleep. He is trying his best to help you to feel comfortable as much as possible so that you remember your origin, so that you remember your fate, so that you remember what the Archons did. But so far you have only talked minutely about your home and he did not make much of it. 

“No. I do not feel hungry.” Your fidgeted with your fingers averting his gaze. Your attention falls on the dip created on the bed where he kept his hand to adjust the pillows. You gulp wetting your throat. “But I do feel thirsty.” You keep your hand beside his, an inch away. He looks at you, with sapphire-embedded eyes and then at the hands. His little finger shifts towards yours, slowly. You quickly pull your arm into your lap. “Do you think we can visit the port city today?” you ask hoping to divert his attention.

Last night he mentioned it and when you ask so eagerly so softly, his barren cold heart is set ablaze. You are now strong enough to pay attention to him. It makes him happy. Kaeya smiles looking at you before answering, “Of course we can. The others will take care of things at the ship and meanwhile we can visit the port.” He leaves the bed and walks towards the exit of his room. Before vanishing from your sight he states, “Get changed. I will be be the one to accompany you to the city today.” 

You have been living in his room, breathing his air, sleeping in his bed, and wearing his clothes for a month since the day he rescued you. Traveling amongst the winds and the waves with you has not been entirely in vain either. Truth be told, Kaeya likes your presence. Today he is finally taking you out amongst the people and needless to say he is not leaving you out of his sight. He is walking behind you while you are in awe, admiring the surroundings. 

You two stand at one of the shops as you ask about all the things and watch everything with such surprise in your eyes that it reminds him of himself when he was a child. He occasionally scans your surroundings, waves at the people he knows, and smiles at the girls he visited at the pleasure house. Those were some bright evenings he lived, enjoying the night at the pleasure house, fucking the girls till they fainted and disappearing into the sea at the break of dawn— the best he had of his life until . . . you walked into his peaceful luxurious life. He glances at you increasing the amount of distance between you two scooting to a side.

The crowd is slowly increasing and why would it not? Kaeya is here and word must have gotten around the town. He rarely visits port cities unless he has to collect hauls and buy some supplies in exchange for them. This was neither of them. This was a new thing. A news: ‘Lord Alberich is here with some maiden.’ It will draw attention more to him than to you. His smile fades away as he turns his head and does not see you. He asks the shopkeeper and he tells that you went towards the sea. shit.

The dusk is approaching and he should be in his room in his ship with you, not scouring the earth for you. Kaeya enters his room briskly with hundreds of thoughts running in his mind, wild and free. What if you are not here? What if someone recognized you? What if someone abducted you? What if . . .?

He sits on the chair with a thud seeing you on the bed with a new set of clothes, lying unconscious. He remembers buying you some clothes but not changing them. The clothes you had been wearing are neatly folded and kept on another bed. His eyes are still on you like a hawk watching its prey. “When did she get hear?” He asks as his breathing becomes even.

“About an hour ago, Lord Alberich.” one of the members of the crew answered. “She found her way back to here. We found her lying unconscious to the ground when we came to give the food.” Kaeya waves his hand at them asking them to leave. He pours some wine into his goblet and like always, sits at the edge of the bed but this time closer to your face.

He runs the back of his fingers along your cheeks murmuring to himself, “What am I gonna do with you… you are driving me insane, paranoid a bit.” He does not know your origin, your past nor your full name, nothing. Even though he is trying his best to give you the benefit of doubt, you keep thinning his faith on you every time.

He lifts up his head, his arm reflexively stretches towards the gun in the hostler. He presses and clicks open the safety lock and keeps the nozzle at your temple. Will you bleed blood or ichor if he hurt you? Will you lament or will you punish him if he hurt you? Are you here to kill him and his people? Or Are you here to help him and his people? 

His fingers move over your forehead, over the marks. He is sure he is the only one who can see your forehead scar. So he takes a risk that he did not think of doing it, ever. Keeping his goblet aside, his index finger slipped underneath his eye patch, pushing it aside for it to remove. There is it, his suspicion is confirmed.

As the scar on her forehead glows and his right eye does not sting or hurt like it should his limbs give up and he lands on his knees beside the bed. There he sat and wept like a boy while his ‘fate’ lay in front of him. How can he not believe what he sees with his own two eyes?

So many questions yet answers to none. But he is aware of only one thing— that you are everything that he does not believe. An Archon. A deity. A bane to his existence. But he refuses to hurt you. He refuses to become the very thing he despises. He refuses to let it go in with just one shot and therefore, he must keep you, tame you, and protect you. 

—

ik this has a lot of loopholes & might make this a multichaptered series but that depends on how well it will do :]

[spock-smokes-weed]

I wanna talk about about the big issue that's going on in the dan and phil fandom rn because I've been sitting on my thoughts for a few days, and because I think it's important for us as a community to keep talking about it.

Dan and Phil mean a lot to me, they've been a real bright spot for me in a very dark time in my life, so it did give me a major spike of anxiety when I started seeing discussions of racist behavior coming from Dan and the Phandom. My first instinct was to just brush it off because what people were upset about didn't seem that "serious", and it's a bad habit of my mine to try to bury things that give me anxiety. But like a pulsing sore, my mind couldn't let me ignore it and I kept going back into the tags to read what people were saying. And I realized I was doing the exact thing that a lot of POC and Latin American fans were criticizing.

I'm not POC or Latin American, and comments like the ones Dan made (idk if there are anymore but to my understanding he called mexico and brazil third world countries in WAD, and titled a really old video "I'm Mexican Now" back when he used to tan himself) don't hit a sore spot for me like it would other people. It's a lot easier for me to say "oh that's tasteless" and let it roll off my back. But this is personal for a lot of other fans, and I never want to be that kind of person that goes "well it didn't hurt ME, why can't YOU let it go." no matter how much I like Dan and Phil.

And I think that's gets a the core for what a lot of fans are upset over (at least from what I've observed, feel free to tell me if I'm off the mark.) Dan's comments made them feel like a person they really admired doesn't hold the same kind of respect for them. It made me really sad reading about how isolated POC feel in fandom because when microaggressions come up, they're expected to suck it up. And that's so unbelievably shitty that we are making fellow fans feel this way. I've seen time and again POC people have to leave fandoms, or never join them to begin with, because the environment is so hostile towards them. And that's really a shame, because fandom has been such a positive aspect of my life, and it want it to be that way for everyone.

And what Dan did is just one part of it, the other part is us, the phandom. People who speak up about this, or the fact that DnP's tour has zero shows in Latin America, Asia, or Africa ("world tour" lmao) have been getting racist harassment from other fans. They're framed as "trying to cancel" DnP, or "making a fuss over nothing". That is completely unacceptable, and if we really want to be this positive community, we have to push back on this behavior when we see it. That includes when it's coming from Dan and Phil.

I honestly don't think Dan was being malicious in what he said, nor do I think DnP were intending to exclude people by not taking the tour to the global south, but that it's really not the point. It's about the fans that feel excluded and hurt. Dan and Phil are both human beings, they are not "unproblematic kings", and they will always fail to meet your standards when you paint them that way. It's causing real people harm when you deny that they can do no wrong. Dan and Phil are very meaningful to me as artists, and I know it can feel personal when you find out someone you admire did something wrong, but sometimes you have to step back and remember that this isn't about you. And it's not a healthy approach to take any criticism of something you like as a personal attack.

Contrapoints once said something that really stuck with me, and it's how I'd like to be living my life, which is that often, admitting when you were wrong can seen as a weakness, when in reality it's an incredible strength. I was wrong with my initial gut reaction over this, and Dan was wrong for what he said, and I think all people want is to hear him say that.

I felt a little nervous writing this post because I don't want to be speaking over anyone, or speaking for anyone, (and if you're a POC and want to elaborate please go ahead), but it felt wrong not saying anything because of how much Dan and Phil mean to me. I don't exactly see myself a part of the "phandom", and I only post about them when they upload, but they are very meaningful artists to me. I want other people to keep discovering Dan and Phil and enjoying their art, but for that to happen we need to be candid about where they've fallen short.

[tornrose24]

Rewatching The Ghost and Molly McGee from the start makes me appreciate Scratch’s character development because wow was it a big one. There’s a huge difference between him at the start vs the ending. And it adds more to his story when you realize it.

It’s not just that Scratch’s situation barely changed upon becoming a ghost. He was becoming an even worse person as time passed–sure, it was his job to scare people and create misery, but there are moments where he makes it clear that he enjoys seeing people suffer. A part of it could have been because he was so miserable in his human life that he was taking delight in seeing others suffer.

He had no problem seeing Molly suffer, especially if it meant she would leave and thus would break the curse. Heck, even if the person was innocent, he still enjoyed it watching them get hurt physically or mentally. If Molly hadn’t shown up, how much worse could he have become? What if that first day of school turned out differently, or he didn’t realize that he was subjecting her to the exact same mistreatment from others that he gets from his peers?

And then there’s the other side of the coin–Todd Mortenson. These first few episodes hit differently now that I know the truth.

He is almost always by himself, and though he attends events like the softball game or the unveiling of the statue, he does blend in with everyone else and it’s only his suspiciously similar features that kept our eyes on him. No one in town seems to know him or comment on his behavior. The one person still in Brighton who grew up with Todd–and would have noticed that something was off about Todd’s behavior–holds a petty decades-long grudge and actively discludes him from additional gatherings.

And to Molly, Todd really was just a random citizen at the time and for quite awhile. Her only actual interaction with Todd in the first eight episodes was trying to get donation money and then slapping a flyer on his face without considering how rude that was. There’s no telling if Todd remembered THAT, but he definitely saw her during the monument unveiling, and later the Internship episode, (which is a crucial interaction). 

Todd is truly the butt of the jokes when the show does bother to acknowledge him. When we get to the reveal that he was suffering from severe depression and anxiety, it makes these moments come off as harsh. 

[archangeldyke-all]

pls more about bodyguard!sev !!! them going public !!! the public loving them !! the wedding !!!!! help !!!

help is on the way babe <3

men and minors dni

funnily enough, your fans were the first people to suspect that something was happening between you and sevika-- only they suspected it months before you OR sevika even realized you had feelings for each other.

once you publicly announce your relationship, your fanbase goes crazy, absolutely ecstatic that you two managed to get your shit together.

sometimes, you and sevika will scroll through your #shipname on social media, watching corny edits of the two of you interacting. it always makes you both a little sappy and weepy-- you guys really are a cute couple-- even when you didn't realize you were a couple yet.

sevika keeps her position as your personal guard, but you add an extra personal guard to work with her on her shifts, to cover her watch when she's distracted by admiring you, or take over as first when you ask her to attend an event as your date.

of course, the media loves your relationship. sevika's comfortable with the cameras when she's working, when she's not the star of the show, but she absolutely hates the idea of all eyes being on her.

so you do one joint interview on night time television to address your relationship, and that's it.

sevika grips your hand the entire time, shaking in her boots. you answer most of the questions for her, and she spends the interview lovingly watching you effortlessly charm the crowd.

there is one question she takes though.

"when did you know you were in love with one another?" the old woman behind the talk show desk asks. sevika perks up with a smile on her lips and speaks without hesitation.

"first time i saw her sick." the audience laughs, but you don't-- you've never heard this before. "i'm serious. i knew i liked her for a while, but i thought it was just because she was always dolled up and on her best behavior when i was around. it's her job to be likeable-- i thought she was just good at her job. and she is, don't get me wrong. but the moment i knew, we were staying in thailand and she'd gotten horrible food poisoning. i remember coming to her hotel room to check on her. she answered in her pajamas, barf dried on her mouth, her eyes crusty from the nap she was taking-- she looked horrible. and when i saw her, i still felt that exact same relief and excitement i always did. and i felt it the rest of the night, too. even when she threw up on me." the audience 'awwww's. sevika smiles.

you promised her you wouldn't do too much pda in public-- it makes her uncomfortable to have so many people watching. but when you hear this, you just have to lean over and press a firm kiss to her lips. she doesn't seem to mind. the crowd goes wild.

your manager insists you have a big wedding. it's not sevika's thing, and it's not yours either. but you're a star, and sevika's the love of your life-- the people want a wedding.

so you plan something big. something wild and extravagant, with hundreds of paparazzi out front of the venue, and the most prestigious of your collages in attendance. your cake is taller than sevika, your dress is more a sculpture than a dress. it's all a lot. neither of you want it.

so the week before your wedding, you take sevika on a little getaway. you pack her favorite black suit, and your favorite white dress, and you drive her out to a small little retirement town where no one recognizes you.

you elope.

you marry in a tiny courthouse in the middle of nowhere, your witness being a grumpy old man who'd come to city hall to pay a parking ticket.

you both cry when you exchange ring pops (your real rings in your manager's possession until the wedding) and your kiss gets so nasty that your witness nearly has a stroke.

you spend the rest of the week in 'honeymoon' bliss-- fucking in the tiny hotel room you rented out, only leaving to hit up a greasy diner and nourish yourselves before returning to your love nest.

by the time your real wedding comes, you and sevika are both so fucked out and drunk off love for one another that you don't even notice all the fuss surrounding you.

it's just sevika, looking gorgeous as she stares at you on the altar. that's all you see that day. just. sevika sevika sevika.

the media notices. there's an article published about how there's only a handful of photos from your wedding and the following reception where you and sevika aren't lovingly gazing at each other, like you're the only two people in the whole world.

there's no photos from your real honeymoon... but there is a small gossip article where one of the housekeepers who was working in the hotel you both stayed in claims that you and sevika were, 'goin' at it like fuckin' rabbits.'

your manager tries to get it taken down, but you don't really mind... it's not like the kid was lying...

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Fever. Dream.

Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett Rated: G - romance, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending Word count: 10.1k (sorry!)

Summary: A twist on An Offer from a Gentleman where it's Sophie who falls ill on the escape from Cavender and in her fever, confesses things to Benedict.

Author's Note: This is an anon request fill (my first!). I loved the idea of reversing roles in the fever scene, leading to caretaker Benedict and an important reveal. Thank you Nonny, I hope you enjoy this! 💙

Sophie’s mind was blank to everything except one imperative: run. Despite how her joints ached and her lungs burned, she had to get off Cavender grounds. It was her only chance to escape prison, transportation, and the brutality that would no doubt be exacted before she was handed to the authorities.

Her feet didn’t fail her, propelling her to the road until the lights and noise of Cavender House were barely perceptible through the trees. As the roar began to fade from her ears she had to pause, wracked by a new bout of coughs. It was going to be a long walk to the nearest village but it was her only choice. In the cool night air under moonlight diffused by gathering clouds, she set off.

As she walked slowly with waning strength a sense of dread crept over her. She had attacked a gentleman. For a penniless maid such as herself it was an offense worthy of imprisonment on the other side of the world. But she had simply refused to fall prey to Phillip Cavender. With his parents away he had invited the most vile assortment of noblemen to fill the house with drink and smoke, shouts and chaos. She would have left as soon as his parents did, knowing how vulnerable she would be to his unwanted advances without Lady Cavender on the premises. But the cold she was combatting had settled into her bones leaving her weak and bleary. With no locks on the doors of the servants’ quarters, she had angled a chair in front of hers and sat upon her bed, praying that Phillip would find distraction with one of the many hired ladies in attendance. 

Her prayers were not answered. Phillip had come banging into her room, easily shoving the chair aside, and began pawing at her. She had tried to reason with him, tried to beg him to leave her alone, but his slippery smile only grew wider as she struggled. Then some primal corner of her mind snapped to attention and took control of her body, making everything both crystal clear and numbingly distant at the same time. She knew, definitively, that she was going to get out of that situation no matter what it took. No matter what behavior she had to exhibit and to whom. Her knee moved before she commanded it to, driving swiftly up between Cavender’s legs.

She saw his eyes widen with pain for a split second before he doubled over, wheezing. When he tried to lunge for her again, her arm flew on its own, planting her fist into the side of his jaw. Cavender hit the floor with a thud, groaning as he began to roll across the boards. After the initial shock of her own actions, Sophie flew into a panic, stepping over the crumpled man to throw her few belongings into a bag and then tear away out into the night.  

Now she trudged, trying to ignore how poorly she felt as she pushed onward toward the village of Rosemeade where she knew she could find an affordable bed for one night. What would happen to her after that was unclear. She certainly could not work in another household of the ton, lest word spread to find her. Maybe, she hoped, Cavender had drunk enough that he would not remember what had happened but she could not rely on that. Perhaps he would be too embarrassed to tell anyone. Then she may be able to work quietly in a home far away. But she could never be sure that Cavender would not visit that household someday and find her. No, as long as she stayed among the gentry she would always be at risk. There was nothing for it, she would need to change her occupation. She could find work in a city somewhere doing…something. 

As she began to contemplate the many dangerous and demeaning ways poor women might make money in a city, Sophie heard the fall of hooves approaching behind her. Her stomach sank. It could be Cavender or someone he sent after her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw a single rider on a white horse moving at no great speed. The Cavenders did not own any white horses but nevertheless, she began to dart off toward the trees. She knew the rider had already seen her and how futile a chase would be but it was her only fleeting chance at freedom.

“Hello there?” The rider called out, his voice gentle, somehow familiar.

She paused. He certainly did not seem to be chasing her. Something within was telling her not to run. Where did she know that voice from? But she was not about to have a roadside chat with a stranger in the middle of the night. She needed to get to the village. She continued to walk along the side of the road, eyes forward, her steps purposeful but not frantic.

Naturally, the rider caught up with her in short order and slowed his horse to match her pace. “Good evening, Miss.”

He sounded polite enough but it didn’t stop Sophie from feeling a stab of annoyance. She was going to have to converse with this person, delaying her arrival to safety. Exhausted and unable to hide a grimace, she turned to look up at him. For a moment she could only see his silhouette, a tall shadow, with unruly hair and a high collar. Then her eyes adjusted and his features emerged in the moonlight. Dear God, it was Benedict Bridgerton.

She froze, every sound and every feeling melting away until all she could see was him. She didn’t even breathe as she stared. She had been fleeing for her life, running from torment, facing a hopeless future, and then suddenly Benedict Bridgerton appeared on a white horse like a knight in a fairy story. She wondered if she had fallen in the road and dashed her head on a rock because why else would she be seeing him unless she was hallucinating or in heaven?

Holding her breath for such a long moment had its consequences and she began to convulse and cough loudly, finally breaking eye contact as she bent over, fighting to catch her breath.

“Are you alright?” his voice was concerned as he stopped his horse and dismounted. Sophie dragged in a steadying breath. All she could think was that those were the exact words he had last said to her before she ran out of the masquerade so many years ago. She had heard them, echoing over and over in her dreams. Of course she recognized his voice. Straightening and swallowing to soothe her raw throat she nodded, looking him squarely in the eye, waiting for him to recognize her. 

“It’s a bit unusual for a woman to be walking the road alone so late at night. Do you work at Cavender House?” He held the reins in his hand, looking her up and down.

She continued to wait silently, jutting her chin so that he might see her better. Surely he would be able to tell. Maybe it was too dark for him to see her properly.

“Miss?” his face was growing increasingly concerned.

She wasn’t sure if she knew how to form words anymore, but found herself replying, “Not anymore.”

“Oh,” Benedict frowned. This night was not turning out at all how he had anticipated. Cavender’s party was not exactly the bacchanalia he had been promised. Benedict had always found him to be a weaselly sort of fellow, but he had grown so bored with the stuffy events of the London season that he would have accepted any invitation that got him out of the city. Rather than finding distraction in the amusements on offer, he had been repulsed by the callow attendees, their slovenly overindulgences and blatant disregard for the women hired to entertain. He had seen his own share of raucous parties to be sure, but there was still such a thing as taste in how one enjoyed themselves and what he had discovered was that Cavender and his friends were lacking in it.

He had managed to extricate himself, tired and wanting nothing more than to throw himself into a bath at his nearby cottage. But now there was a strange young woman in the road and he was not one to ignore a soul in distress. The nearest village was at least two miles away and she was alone, carrying nothing but a small bag which, he guessed, was everything she owned if she had just left the employment of the house. From what he could see of her in the moonlight she was lovely, with a short crop of hair and large, luminous eyes. He had the oddest sensation that they may have met before, though he didn’t know how that was possible. Perhaps she had worked in a household he had visited.

“Something drove you out of the house in a hurry.” He was doing his best to seem trustworthy.

Sophie continued to stare, unwilling to believe that he didn’t recognize her even now that they were standing so close. 

Benedict was running out of ideas to get her to speak so instinctively, he reverted to humor. “I’ve just come from there myself. Between you and I, it was turning my stomach to be around that bunch of louts. Plenty of drink, plenty of frivolity, but certainly no sense of taste.”

“No,” Sophie rasped, beginning to understand how he came to be there. It had indeed been a tasteless party, led by a tasteless host. She was reassured that Benedict wasn’t of the same ilk as Cavender, given his poor opinion of it. For the past two years the memory of him had been the only thing giving her the motivation to press on through the toil of each day, the dream of him and the fantasy life they may have shared together if she had been born legitimate. If it had turned out that he was no better than Cavender, she would have nothing left in her miserable little life. Not even the memory of the masquerade to treasure. But here he was, miraculously comforting her by the roadside, an avenue to safety. 

She opened up to him, surprised at her own words. “I was treated roughly so decided to leave.” Not the whole truth, but enough to explain why she was walking through the night.

Benedict’s brow furrowed with concern and he nodded. “May I ask your name?”

Her name. The name he had begged her for at the masquerade. Now she would tell him for the first time. “Sophie Beckett,” she croaked.

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Beckett. Are you headed to the village?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “To the Wayside Inn.”

“Would you permit me to take you there?” He chose his words carefully. He didn’t know what this woman had endured at Cavender’s but if it was enough to send her hiking out into the road at night it must have been awful. Being approached by another man was likely the last thing she wanted but if she trusted him, he’d rather it be him escorting her than God knows who else. If she declined, he would leave her be.

“Yes.” She agreed so readily it surprised him. 

“Excellent,” he smiled. “I will drop you there and continue on.” His cottage was in fact a mile closer than the village but he didn’t mind. He would rest easier knowing she was safe. He held out his hand. She did not take it. She just continued to stare at him curiously, her head cocked to the side. “Are you certain you’re all right?” he asked.

And that’s when Sophie realized. When they first met her face had been covered by a mask. Her hair had been longer and powdered to a lighter shade, lovely tresses that she had since sold to a wigmaker. She had grown scrawny in the intervening years of hard servitude. It was two entire years ago and they had only spoken for an hour or so, outside in the dark of the Bridgerton House garden. She understood now. He didn’t recognize her. How could he? She was not the same woman he had met on that magical night. 

She finally took his hand, her thoughts racing. Should she reveal herself? Would he believe her? As she followed him silently he led her to the horse and patted the beast gently. “This is Danae. Not as comfortable as a carriage I’m afraid, but certainly faster than walking.” He grinned, his lopsided smile crinkling his eyes and she felt her legs falter. 

As her mind whirred Sophie moved automatically, lifting herself onto Danae and perching sideways behind the saddle. Benedict looked up at her, the cheeky grin still playing on his lips. “Where are my manners? I’m Mr. Benedict Bridgerton by the way.”

She almost said “I know,” but caught herself. Her voice cracked as she feigned ignorance. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

He glanced down at her legs. “If it would be easier, you can sit astride. No need to stand on ceremony with me.”

Benedict was on his most gentlemanly behavior. It was only right that he escort this quiet, poor young woman away from the fiend Cavender’s house and to a place of safety. It was also ridiculous to force her to ride sidesaddle. Firstly, she was not even properly in a saddle, and secondly, it was a most awkward feat that he had never understood how women managed. He genuinely wanted her to be secure and comfortable while they rode. But he also couldn’t help finding something alluring in the way she lifted her leg and swung it around to sit astride. 

Sophie caught a flicker of something devilish in his eyes as she repositioned herself on Danae. It forced a smirk across her own face even as the debate raged within her on whether to tell him that they had met before.

Benedict mounted into the saddle and took the reins. He was an inch away from her now, his broad back and dark hair filling her vision. She could see the fine velvet texture of his coat, the glint of the moonlight off the waves of his hair, and she could smell his cologne - sandalwood, fresh parchment, a walk in a green forest. She closed her eyes, breathing him in, her every sense engulfed by the man in front of her. Was this a dream? Was it a nightmare?

“Hold on,” he said over his shoulder. Sophie’s eyes flew open. Oh God, she hadn’t thought about this when she agreed to ride with him. She would have to hold onto him, to wrap her arms around him and press their bodies together. She didn’t know if she would be able to bear it but there certainly wasn’t any way to avoid it now. With great trepidation, she settled her bag securely in her lap then lightly rested a hand on either side of his torso.

She could hear him chuckle under his breath. “Tighter than that or else you’ll fall off, Miss Beckett.” Gently, he pulled her hands across his chest. Her palms rested against the buttons of his coat and she trembled as she realized she could feel him breathing. 

“There we are,” she could hear the smile in his voice. Then he signaled to Danae, tapped her with the stirrups and they set off in a gentle, steady trot. 

They encountered no one else on the road and the night was silent save for the trills of evening insects. This was nothing like the masquerade where they had so much to say to one another. But Sophie reminded herself that this was different. She was a maid and he was a gentleman of the ton. They shouldn’t have anything in common now.

She couldn’t spare too much energy on the debate raging within her because a coughing fit was pressing against her ribs just as insistently. She allowed one small, rasping cough and tried clearing her throat to fight it down. Benedict tilted his head back toward her.

“Is that bag all that you have?” 

“Yes,” she admitted. “This is everything.” But speaking released another hacking cough and she turned away, desperate to maintain her composure though she was starting to feel woozy.

“Are you unwell, Miss?” Benedict asked. 

“I’m fine,” she gasped, certain that she sounded unconvincing. It was getting harder and harder to mask how ill she truly felt. She was growing more weary with each passing minute and had to focus to stay upright with the canter of the horse. 

Benedict flicked the reins, his eyes ahead but his mind focused entirely on the woman behind him. What a strange night. As eager as he was to return to his home, he also felt singularly invested in seeing Miss Beckett safely delivered to the inn. While rare enough to have a stranger riding on Danae, with her arms wrapped around him he felt the oddest tingling sensation across his skin where she was touching him. The heat of her against his back nearly made him shudder. There was something about her he couldn’t place. He stole a glance over his shoulder. There was something familiar about the curve of her cheek as well…

“Have we met?” he blurted out.

“No,” she choked, her answer instinctual as a spike of fear shot through her. “I don’t believe so.” But she admonished herself as soon as the words left her lips. Didn’t she want him to recognize her? Wasn’t she hoping he would come to his senses, leap off the horse, gather her in his arms and declare his love? Didn’t she want him to carry her off to the life of her dreams?

But that was precisely the problem. They were just dreams. In her dreams she knew Benedict Bridgerton. In her dreams he loved her. Loved her enough to marry her despite the circumstances of her birth and the chasm of a class divide that existed between them. These were dreams and nothing more. In reality she barely knew this man. He had flirted with her at a masquerade when he believed she was a debutante. They had shared a kiss, one that had stopped her heart with all of its passion, but perhaps he had kissed many ladies at many balls. Just because it had been special for her did not mean it was special for him. Perhaps it was so insignificant that he never again thought of the lady in silver. If she revealed herself to him now, there was a fair chance he would feel honor bound to return her to Cavender House, or perhaps to Araminta. Either way she would end up in prison for theft or attack. Quite the opposite of a dream come true. 

It was best if he did not recognize her. She didn’t know if she could survive his rejection or retribution. She would be grateful for this second meeting that they had, though she railed against fate that it felt like a bittersweet joke being played upon her. She would enjoy the sight and feel and smell of him, the sound of his voice, for these brief moments, rounding off the dreams she had carried with her for years, then allow him to leave her at the inn and once again exit her life. It was heartbreakingly painful but she knew it was for the best.

As if the sky acknowledged her sorrow, she suddenly felt the plop of fat raindrops spattering her shoulders. 

“It’s raining,” she observed, immediately scolding herself for sounding obtuse.

“Of course it is,” he said wryly. “Because we are out in the open. If we were in a carriage there wouldn’t be a could in the sky.”

“How close are we to the village?”

“Just under an hour,” he frowned. “Though the rain may slow us down.”

Sophie was just about to announce that she could tolerate getting wet when the heavens opened up in earnest with a crack of thunder. Within minutes both of them were soaked through, pummeled by rain that obscured the road and turned it muddy.

“I have a cottage up ahead,” Benedict called back to her. “It’s closer than the village. We can shelter there with my housekeepers.” 

“Alright,” Sophie didn’t know if he could hear her over the deluge or even cared to wait for a reply because he had already kicked Danae to set off at a faster pace, driving her forward into the blinding storm and making for a small turnoff.

Sophie tightened her arms around him to hold on. She wasn't sure which part of her was tied into worse knots, her body, which was heating up as her throat began to ache, or her mind which continued to wrestle with this entire situation. Now she was being taken to Benedict’s home. Would he recognize her in better lighting? Would she slip up in their conversation and reveal herself? What would his housekeepers think of her? How quickly could she leave and continue on to the inn?

As her mind filled with questions, she was gripped by a new wave of coughs. Deep, rumbling ones that felt like they were borne out of a furnace in her lungs and were cutting her throat with razors. Benedict felt a pang of concern as he realized her pale hands were shivering against his chest. He winced as she convulsed against his back, her every cough reverberating into him. 

“You don’t sound well.” He shouted over the wind.

“I…” Sophie gasped. “I have a cold. But I am alright.” Her voice faltered again as more hacking overtook her.

“We’re almost there,” he assured her. “Hold on tight.” Then he kicked Danae again, snapped the reins and she broke into a full gallop, splashing through the puddles of the country lanes as they wound through hedges and over a small bridge.

Sophie clung to Benedict, nestling her head against his back both to keep the rain out of her eyes and because she was losing the strength to stay upright. Her throat was torn raw, her chest wracked, and she could feel the portentous chills of fever starting up her spine. She told herself to keep a clear head at least until they reached the cottage. Then she would no doubt become a burden as she asked to rest until she was well again. She hoped his housekeepers would be kind and accommodate her, and she hoped her illness would not delay her in their company too long. She closed her eyes, cognizant only of the rocking of Benedict’s body in time with the horse’s strides. Even in the tumult of the storm he felt so solid, so safe.

Sophie was wheezing by the time they slowed and she opened her eyes to find they were sheltered under a small stable attached to a building. Everything was cast in shadow with no lanterns or candles lit anywhere. She moved to pull away from Benedict but found her arms stiff with cold. Her every bone ached, her skin was on fire, and her clothes were so heavy with rain that she felt she couldn’t rise.

Deftly, Benedict pried her arms open and hopped to the ground then looked back at her, extending his hands. “Allow me.”

Sophie appreciated his concern but did not want to burden him nor humiliate herself any further. She opened her mouth to decline his assistance but another round of coughs bent her double over the saddle and next she knew, he had wrapped his arms around her, slid her off Danae and was carrying her toward a side door. If she had been in any other state, Sophie knew her heart would be fluttering uncontrollably with this turn of events, but now it just fluttered because she was trying to regain her breath.

All was dark inside the house as Benedict kicked loudly on the door. He called out. “Mr. Crabtree? Mrs. Crabtree? Hello?” But it was obvious no one was on the premises. 

“Dammit,” Benedict cursed under his breath. “They must be away for the night at their daughter’s. Serves me right for not telling them I was coming. Miss Beckett…”

Sophie met his eyes, now so close to her own, and they only contributed to her breathlessness.

“Would you wait here a moment?” He gently set her upon her feet. She could stand just fine despite the weight of exhaustion threatening to pull her down to the earth. She clutched her small bag of belongings, realizing it was as sopping wet as she was.

“Of course,” She rasped, her voice raw.

With a quick nod Benedict dashed out of the stable and back into the rain, darting around a corner of the house. This night had grown so strange Sophie didn’t know what to question anymore. Whether it was serendipity or misfortune that Benedict found her in the road, that a storm had driven them to seek shelter, that his home was nearby, and that they found themselves alone together. If she had been a proper lady such a situation would have been scandalous. But for a gentleman to be alone with a maid in his home? She doubted anyone would bat an eye. Assuming they could get inside, she vowed to keep to herself. She would light the fires, rest in the servants quarters and be on her way in the morning. She hoped the Crabtrees would have returned by then. She hated leaving Benedict alone but knew that she couldn’t trust herself in his presence any longer than absolutely necessary. Not because he would do anything, but because she would fall even more desperately in love.

Benedict reappeared, jogging to her side as the rain continued to pummel him in sheets. Once under the stable roof he tossed his head, sending water flying from the dark waves of his hair and leaving it charmingly tousled. Sophie despised him a bit for looking so attractive even when he appeared half-drowned. With a crooked grin he held up the brass key he had retrieved from somewhere and successfully unlocked the door to lead her inside.

Before Benedict even lit a candle Sophie could tell this was not a cottage. Despite how he had made it sound, this was not the thatched roof country home she had envisioned. This was a manor house with six bedrooms at least. With marble floors and gleaming wood everywhere, this would only be called a cottage by the wealthiest of people who didn’t know the common meaning of the word. 

Spying a small door near the stairs, Sophie assumed it led to the servants’ level. “Thank you, sir.” She couldn’t stop herself from shivering as she spoke. “I will light the fires and then find myself a bed downstairs.”

“You’ll do no such thing.” Benedict moved to her side with a candle in hand. She could see his face clearly for the first time. She held her breath seeing how simultaneously similar but still how different he looked from the vision in her dreams. On the night of the masquerade he had been wearing a mask, the same as her, and she had only seen his full face for one fleeting moment after the gong had sounded and before she had run away. She had had to construct his face in her mind from that single image and often found it easier to remember him in the mask. But here he was in the flesh. His mouth was the same as her memory, his eyes the same bright hue but their shade something ephemeral, ever changing. They were always a different color in each dream and even now she wasn’t sure how she would describe them. But they were gentle and delightfully creased at the corners. Seeing all his features together, they were greater than the sum of their parts. He looked older now, slightly more world-weary and like he smiled less often. His hair too was shorter, lending him an air of increased responsibility, making him look less wild and boyish.

“Come with me,” he ordered and began walking up the curving staircase, making sure she stayed close behind. He led her into a bedroom richly decorated with a four-poster bed, upholstered armchairs and a tiled fireplace. She assumed it must be his bedroom.

“This is a guest room,” he explained, as if reading her mind and quashing her presumption. “And it is yours for the night.”

With comic timing, Sophie doubled over with a new bout of coughs. She was indeed overwhelmed by the generosity of his offer. She hadn’t slept in a room so luxurious since she was very small and newly welcomed into her father’s home. These days she only had the privilege to observe such places as she cleaned them. Benedict gently took her bag and set it on a chair. Then he moved about, eyeing her with concern as he lit more candles in sconces on the walls and holders by the bedside. 

Sophie tugged at the knot of her cloak, hoping that losing the weight of it would grant her some relief. “Here,” Benedict stood behind her and pulled the garment from her shoulders, hanging it on a hook nearby. “Now, you’re soaked through. You’ll have to make do with my clothes, I’m afraid. I don’t keep any spare frocks around my bachelor lodgings.”

Sophie’s mind started to reel. She had a nightdress in her bag but knew it would be wet. “That’s quite alright, you don’t need to…” But before she could protest or formulate any kind of plan, Benedict had stepped out then reappeared with a set of folded clothing; a ruffled white shirt and a pair of linen trousers. He set them on the bed then crouched at the fireplace, plucking a nearby candle and holding it toward the wood already stacked within.

“I’ll get the fire going too.” He stayed focused on the task at hand, not turning as he spoke. “You need to warm up. Go on and change.”

A shiver ran down her spine but not from her illness. She was rooted in place. “Sir, this is most improper.” Her voice was a pathetic croak even to her own ears.

Even without seeing his face she could detect his smirk. “Would you prefer I leave you in the cold and dark for the sake of propriety?” He challenged playfully. “You can trust me to keep my back turned, Miss. You need to get out of those clothes before you catch pneumonia.”

“I could say the same for you.” She volleyed back.

His head turned just far enough that she saw him arch a brow. “Do you want me to take mine off now too?”

Mortified, Sophie gaped like a fish then scurried into a far corner. She could hear him chuckle but true to his word, his eyes stayed focused on the spreading embers in front of him. She didn’t have the energy to protest further. She knew he was right, though he had a cheeky way of expressing his concern. She really was desperate to get out of the heavy layers of freezing fabric. Quick as she could, she started to peel them off: shoes, stocking, dress, chemise. She jumped into the pair of trousers he had provided, their outrageous length pooling around her ankles. All that was left were her stays. She had to sit on the bed to prevent the trousers from falling as she tried to loosen the laces. Not only were her fingers rigid with cold and slippery with rain but reaching back pushed her lungs into an uncomfortable position and she fell helplessly into another series of rasping, gagging coughs.

Benedict’s ears perked but he stayed where he was. “Is it safe to turn?”

Sophie continued to fiddle helplessly with her knots. “I can’t…” she gasped. “I can’t untie my stays.”

After a pause, he asked softly. “Would you like assistance?”

Sophie froze, her heart pounding as she looked over to him. The fire was now taking off in the grate as Benedict crouched in front of it. Why had she said anything? What else did she expect him to do than offer to help her? Was it that she had reached the end of her tether and just wanted to sleep in warmth and comfort as soon as possible? Or did some deeper, more devious part of herself want him to undress her?

“Yes.” She breathed, her body reacting before her mind could reason with it.

Slowly, Benedict got to his feet. Still facing away, he stripped off his jacket and dropped it on a chair by the fire where it started to drip onto the floor. Sophie was transfixed, shamelessly cataloging how the muscles moved in his back and arms. He wore a beautiful blue waistcoat, navy with a delicate gold brocade and a blue silk cravat. His shirt was so wet as to be transparent and it clung to the contours of his arms. That dangerous little whisper within her was hoping to watch him remove more but he only rolled up his sleeves then walked over to her, gesturing for her to stand and turn around in front of him.

She thought she saw something spark in his eyes when he beheld her in nothing but her stays and his trousers, clutching them bunched at her waist, but it could have been a reflection from the fire. The room was growing warmer but she didn’t know if it was the flames or the rush of her own blood as she stood before him trembling. She closed her eyes as he silently went to work pulling at her laces. He was gentle, his long dexterous finger making quick work of the bindings and pulling them wide as the garment loosened around her ribs.

“God, no wonder you can’t breathe.” He mumbled. 

Sophie bit her lip, ashamed to admit to herself that she hoped to feel his touch, for his fingers to brush across her arms or the palms of his large hands to press against the skin of her back, soothing her, holding her, tempting her to…something.

“Alright now?”

His voice snapped her out of her fantasy and her eyes flew open. He hadn’t touched her, only performed the task as requested. “Yes, thank you.” She rasped, holding her stays to her chest and shooting a glance over her shoulder. He had turned away again and was facing the door. In a moment she wriggled out of her undergarment and slipped his billowy ruffled shirt over her head. She felt like a child, swimming in adult’s clothes for play.

“Tell me what you need.” He urged.

Another tickle in her throat made Sophie swallow. “Only…only water.”

“Of course.” Without a look back Benedict stepped into the hall, closed the door and was gone.

Sophie climbed into the bed and it positively enveloped her. A plush mattress, thick feather pillows and piles of soft blankets, it felt like absolute heaven. She couldn’t remember sleeping in such comfort and her weakened body went limp, grateful to be cradled so perfectly. Exhaustion would claim her soon. It was too much work to puzzle through everything that had transpired or what she should do next. All she wanted to do now was sleep. With a clearer head, she could piece things together in the morning. Abandoning her confusion, she allowed herself to accept it all as something like a dream. The handsome man she loved rescuing her on horseback, carrying her to his door, seeing tracts of her skin that should have been reserved for a husband alone. Fate’s bittersweet joke was more insidious than she had suspected, but a part of her was still grateful for it.

Benedict returned a few minutes later. Knocking softly, he entered the room carrying a small tray. He had also changed, wearing the same ensemble he had lent to her. With tousled, towel-dried hair and his shirt unbuttoned low he looked like sin. Sophie instinctively pulled the covers up to her chin.

“Comfortable?” Benedict grinned at her, placing the tray on the bedside table. A pitcher, a glass and a suspicious amber bottle.

“Sir, you are far too generous.” Sophie found that her voice was nearly spent. She sounded horrid, which was an accurate reflection of how she felt. “Really, I will be fine. I will…find some way to repay you.”

Benedict waved away her sentiment, kneeling to her level. “You can repay me by getting well. Do not worry about owing me anything. This is for my benefit as much as yours. I could not in good conscience leave you on the side of the road any more than I can allow you to perish under my roof. I’ll send for the doctor first thing tomorrow.”

Sophie vaguely thought of objecting, not wanting to involve more parties in this strange scenario but she was too distracted by Benedict uncorking the bottle. “In the meantime,” he continued, “brandy has always had a medicinal effect for me. In small doses of course.” He cracked a lopsided smile as he poured a splash into the glass and handed it to her. Sophie sat up, weakly returning his smile as her fingers wrapped around his to accept it. Benedict didn’t remove his hand but helped guide her gently as she drank down the spirit. Her fingers tingled where they met his. He did the same with a glass of water next. She was so worn through that she was grateful for his help and for the fleeting chance to feel his skin.

With heavy eyelids she sank back into the pillows, barely able to mumble her thanks.

“Try to get some sleep.” Benedict said softly. She nodded, feeling herself drifting into a comforting darkness. The last thought she registered was that Benedict didn’t leave, but was pulling a chair over to the bedside and watching her intently.

—

Heat. That is what lifted Sophie out of her calm slumber. Sweltering heat burning through her very skin. Eyes closed, she didn’t know where she was but she knew that she felt smothered. She tossed, attempting to kick aside her covers but only seemed to entangle herself further. Every bone issued a pang of protest as she moved, stoking the fire that seemed to have replaced her blood. Her head throbbed. She groaned and gasped, fighting to find air that didn’t feel stifling.

As she started to thrash she was dimly aware of something on her forehead, pressing on her one moment and removed the next.

“Oh God, you’re burning up,” a voice murmured beside her. Whoever it was, she wanted to answer in the affirmative and ask them to help free her. But she hadn’t found her breath and didn’t know up from down.

“Here.” The voice spoke again and then something cool was laid across her forehead. A rush of relief stilled her movements. She was still burning, her whole body pulsing with waves of heat, but now she had a focal point, something to orient and distract her from her discomfort. The coolness moved, smearing down the side of her face and onto her neck, being pressed into her skin. “Does that feel better?”

It did indeed. It calmed her enough that she was able to drag her eyes open. Everything she saw swam just out of focus. She was in some kind of ornate room but had no idea how she had gotten there. She wouldn’t be lying in such a nice room at Cavender House. Maybe she was in Penwood Park? She turned to see who was beside her. Perhaps that would help solve the mystery. 

Her eyes did manage to focus on the figure kneeling at her bedside and her breath hitched. It was him. Him. The man she had met one beautiful night and who now lived entirely in her dreams. It all made sense now. This was a dream. Benedict Bridgerton was with her, as vivid as he had ever looked, dark hair tousled, soft lips parted, bright eyes meeting hers. She was grateful to her mind for painting such a lovely tableau to live in, even for just a moment. It was Benedict who was dragging a cloth across her skin, giving her relief. Of course he would be her savior in her dreams. 

She smiled faintly and closed her own hand over his where it rested at her neck. “Thank you, Benedict.” She could only manage a whisper.

He grinned back in return, the grin that made her lose all sense. One of the reasons she would always recognize him without a mask. “No thanks necessary.”

This may have been a dream, but if it was one where she could converse with him, she wanted to tell him the things she could never say to the real Benedict. She wanted him to know how much their evening had meant to her. “You were so kind to me.”

He moved the cloth back up to her forehead, dabbing lightly. “Any gentleman would do the same.”

“No,” Sophie pouted. “They all stayed in the ballroom.” It was only Benedict who had followed her out into the garden of Bridgerton House and struck up a conversation during the masquerade. Even though every bachelor of the ton had stared at her agog when she arrived, she hadn’t given any of them the opportunity to request a dance. Too anxious with the dawning realization that her dancing skills were inadequate, she had swiped two flutes of champagne and ducked out into the garden. She hoped the bubbles would instill her with courage and she had been clumsily mimicking the dancers she could see through the windows, attempting in vain to teach herself the quadrille when Benedict stumbled upon her and her world was turned on its axis.

Dream Benedict’s brow furrowed and he placed the cloth on the table beside him. He leaned in closer. “What was that?”

“You found me outside.” She stated plainly. Surely he remembered.

“Yes, on the road.” Tentatively, he took one of her hands and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“In the garden.” She insisted. He had taken her second glass of champagne. He had revealed his own disdain for dancing and they had laughed together.

Dream Benedict seemed at a loss. “I’m not sure what you’re…”

“It was Handel,” Sophie sighed, hearing the music again in her mind. The soft melody that had spurred them both to stop snickering and give it a try. That memory was growing more vivid now, calling her back as it had so many times before. “The moonlight. Thank you for teaching me to dance.”

Benedict’s skin suddenly went ashen and he dropped her hand. His eyes began to dart frantically over her face but the rest of him was paralyzed. “You… No, you…”

Sophie was already stepping back into the garden, her mind too distant to register anything more than that his sweet face was beside her. She brought a hand to his cheek, willing him to recall everything they had shared and to understand her gratitude. 

She smiled, eyes glassy. “It was all I wanted. One night. Happy. Like a dream…”

Benedict watched in shock as her voice faded and her eyes fluttered closed again, her hand falling limply back onto the bed. He was nearly convinced his heart had stopped until he felt it pounding again at full force, pushing him back on his haunches as he all but collapsed on the floor. He felt sick. He felt blind. He felt insane. Was he feverish too? Was this all some hallucination? Was this strange woman some faerie or witch that had ensnared him in a spell to taunt him with what he wanted most in the world? It was impossible that finding his lady in silver, the quest that had seemed so hopeless it had been calcifying his heart for two years, could be so easily concluded. That he could happen upon her on a country roadside at precisely the right moment. 

But Sophie was a maid, not the glamorous woman of the ton that had captured his affection. And yet she knew all the details of the masquerade. Details no one else could know. None of it made sense. Until he remembered the numbness. The telltale sensation that started in his limbs and spread into his torso, infusing him with an acute awareness that something significant was about to occur. It had happened only twice before. The first time was moments before his father had died and the second time was on the night of the masquerade - a certainty that he had to go out to the garden, and that was when he had found her. 

That tingling sensation had hit him again earlier this evening just after mounting Danae to escape from Cavender’s. It had frozen him in the saddle for a moment but he chose to ignore it. Maybe he was lightheaded from the smoky air indoors or his jump onto the horse. Maybe he was falling ill. Or maybe his wiring was well and truly ruined after two years of trying to soothe his heartache with too many liquors, teas and herbs. He hadn’t thought there was any chance something fateful could happen on his ride home down a country lane. But it had. 

Was it possible that it was the most fateful night of his life? 

He was broken out of his thoughts by Sophie shifting again under the covers. She was mumbling, writhing with her eyes closed as the feverish heat continued to pour off of her. He moved back to her side and scrutinized her face, his heart racing faster as details began to fall into place. Her hair was different than his lady in silver and she was thinner, but the shape of her face was the same. Her lips were the same. The gamine little point on the end of her chin was the same. He panted, desperate to see the color of her eyes but knew that it would have to wait.

Her breath was growing shorter and her teeth were beginning to chatter. He held her by the arms, sending out a silent prayer that she could fight her way through until morning. He would do anything to make sure she awoke. He would not be reunited with the love of his life for a few cruel minutes only to have her snatched away again.

—

Turning away from Benedict in the ornate bedroom, Sophie stepped forward into the garden at Bridgerton House. There was Benedict again, this time back in his tails and blue demi mask with his tireless smile, reaching out until she slipped her silver-gloved hand into his. The air was soft with moonlight and fragrant with wisteria. He wrapped his arms around her.

“You’re trembling.” When he spoke Sophie could hear an echo, a second voice repeating him somewhere distantly. She had trembled in his arms that night, wracked with nerves and excitement.

Benedict guided her hands, one onto his shoulder and the other into his outstretched grasp. She felt his fingers wrap around hers and hold tightly, the sensation so realistic she could feel the heat of his palm.

“Hold onto me. That’s it.” Again two voices spoke in stereo.

Sophie gripped his hand and was confused. Her bodice feeling a bit too tight and her skin a bit too hot. But she had been in this dream so many countless times before, she knew she was safe. 

Benedict smiled down at her and she realized for the first time what color his eyes were. They were the color of their love story. They were blue - his family color and his favorite hue. They were green - to match her own and her favorite hue. They were grey - shimmering like the moonlight under which they had met. They were a kaleidoscope of everything she treasured. 

“I’ve got you.” He assured her, his voice echoing somewhere far away. And then they began to dance. This was her favorite moment. All she had to do was give herself over and let him lead her, spinning her through the steps as music drifted out of the house nearby. She could lose herself in his arms and find happiness, however fleeting. If this was all she could have of Benedict Bridgerton anymore, it was enough. Not enough to stem her yearning but enough to make her feel that her life had at least one mote of joy within it. 

As she swayed she gazed up at him. The most handsome man she had ever met. The man who made her believe in love at first sight. The man that she both celebrated and regretted meeting every day. The memory of him filled her with so much delight and torment equally. She could never decide which was less painful: to have known him and lost him, or to never have known him at all. 

He held her tight and spoke again, but this time his lips did not move. It was only the disembodied voice, sounding as if it were right by her ear. It was pleading, desperate.

“Do not leave me. Not again.”

Bewildered, Sophie declared in her heart that she would never leave. Then as Benedict spun her under his arm the moonlight grew brighter, refracting off the embellishments of her dress until she was swirling in a silver cloud. Everything became gauzy and faded into light.

—

The next sound Sophie heard was birdsong. A gentle backdrop to the cozy, nestled feeling she had upon waking. She blinked her eyes open to find herself in the bedroom of the cottage, the memory of the prior evening catching up to her. She had been exhausted with her cold and had fallen asleep. Now, happily, the sun was shining through the bedroom window. Her muscles were still sore as she sat up and her throat felt as if it had been slashed and burned, but she was clear headed. 

“Good morning.” Benedict’s deep voice made her snap to face him. He was sitting in a chair at her bedside, scrutinizing her in an odd fashion. It didn’t appear that he had slept at all.

“Sir.” Sophie nodded at him, finding that her voice was a pitiful rasp.

He leaned forward and studied her face so intently that it made her self conscious. Was he that concerned for her wellbeing? Had her sickness done something dreadful to her skin? With a sharp breath he finally sat back, his brow stern.

“How are you feeling? Your fever broke a few hours ago.”

Sophie didn’t quite recall having a fever, though she had felt one was likely to start. Thankfully she had slept it off. She drank from the water glass beside her. “My throat is worse for the wear but I will be fine.” She offered him a small smile. “Thank you again for…”

“Who are you?” He cut her off, something suddenly harsh in his tone.

She stared at him, confused. “Sir?”

“Did you give me your true name?”

Sophie couldn’t fathom what was happening. “Yes. Why do you ask that?”

“Because you kept so much else from me, I had to know if your name was a lie too.” His words were clipped, his nostrils beginning to flare.

Oh God, did he know? How could he?

“Sir, I…”

“It’s you.” His voice was tight, his eyes fiery. “From the masquerade.”

Sophie felt her stomach plummet to her feet. Her mind wiped blank. 

“I didn’t recognize you, so changed and in the dark. But I see it now. Your eyes in the daylight. I have not forgotten your eyes.”

As he glowered at her, Sophie stuttered. Her mouth moved but no words would come out. She had wanted him to recognize her, so why did it feel so terrifying? Why was he so angry?

Benedict continued. “You were delirious. You confessed it in your fever. You thanked me for teaching you to dance.”

Betrayed by her own fever addled brain. Everything inside her sank. Maybe if she hadn’t been such a dreamy romantic this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe if she had learned to school her emotions and not cling to the memory of him so desperately, she wouldn’t have gone talking about it when she was half mad. Embarrassed and ashamed, she managed to babble, “I didn’t…I’m sorry…”

Benedict learned forward again, his brow knotted with confusion. “Where have you been all this time? How are you a servant?”

Sophie’s stomach did another flip as her previous fears flared. If he learned the truth he might cast her out. He may send her back to her stepmother or her rancid employers and both of them would see her rot in a jail cell or a foreign land for the rest of her days. She had to be tactful but couldn’t bring herself to lie to him when she saw the pain in his eyes. “I’ve always been a servant. My life is…complicated. I had no right to be at the masquerade. I snuck in.” She hung her head in apology.

“Why?”

Clearly her explanation wasn’t enough. Over the past two years she had often asked herself the same question. Why had she snuck into the ball? Why had it felt so imperative to her at the time? She had risked so much for something that seemed so frivolous. Except she knew the answer if she was honest with herself. It had been worth it. It had been the happiest night of her life even if it was the cause of so much subsequent pain. With her identity now discovered, she had nothing left to lose by telling him the truth.

“Have you ever chased after a dream? Allowed yourself to imagine, even for a short while, that you were more than what your birth made you?” He shifted at that, something softening in his gaze. They had spoken at the masquerade about how they each hoped for more in their lives; some way to distinguish themselves that was entirely of their own doing. She hoped he understood. “I only wanted to see it,” she sighed. “To dance and laugh. I didn’t expect any of this would happen. I didn’t expect to meet you, or to feel…”

“What did you feel?” Benedict pressed forward, searching her eyes.

She couldn’t bring herself to say it. Love was a bridge too far. So she gave him her assessment of her feelings rather than the raw feelings themselves. “Foolish.”

He frowned, leaning back. “Is that why you ran away?”

She tugged at her fingers. “If you had realized I was an imposter you would have turned me away, or reported me. Or someone from my house would have recognized me. I had to leave.”

“You fled London entirely!” His voice raised, looking incredulous.

Sophie stared at him. “How do you know that?”

“I searched for you. For six bloody months!”

“You searched for me?” Sophie went numb. There was no way she had meant that much to him. She was a servant easily enamored by a handsome, wealthy gentleman. But he had his pick of young ladies. She could not have left such an impression on him over the course of one evening. “I…I had to. I was found out anyway and I was punished. I had to leave, I had nowhere to go.”

“You had me!” Benedict jabbed his fingers into his chest, sounding frantic. “I would have looked after you.”

Sophie couldn’t help but scoff. “No you wouldn’t…”

“I fell in love with you, Sophie!” The silence that followed his shouted declaration was deafening. They stared at one another, breathing heavily. Benedict with exasperation and Sophie with disbelief. He couldn’t be in earnest. Either she was still delirious or he was mad. A man like him did not fall in love with a woman like her, or at least would not want to pursue her after learning who she truly was. She was a servant but not a fool. 

Fighting against the choking feeling in her throat, she spoke slowly. “You didn’t fall in love with me, sir.”

“Stop calling me sir.” He growled.

She appealed to his reason. “You don’t even know me, Benedict. We are from two different worlds. There could never be anything real between us.” Her heart clenched as she laid it out plainly, tears beginning to prick her eyes. “It was best for both of us that I left you alone.”

Benedict stared at her, eyes aflame, his jaw jutting around as if he were chewing his own tongue. Then he suddenly stood, turned on his heel and marched out the door.

This was the end. Sophie let the tears roll down her cheeks as she planned her next steps. Her limbs were still heavy but she would have to get up and dress quickly. She hoped her clothes were dry but even if they weren’t, she needed to leave. She could walk to the village from here. She could make it down the stairs without him seeing her. She needed to leave before he tossed her out or contacted the police. She should never have agreed to get on his horse. This was the heartbreaking but predictable conclusion to her dreams. This was the ironclad confirmation that she must stop reaching for things beyond her station.

Before she could muster the strength to swing her legs to the floor, Benedict reappeared in the doorway. He carried a stack of papers, uneven, varying in size and texture. He held them gingerly in both hands like priceless artifacts. As he walked toward her Sophie shrank back, wondering what on earth he was doing.

Benedict looked her in the eyes, an unreadable expression on his face, something like reluctance and yearning simultaneously. He reached the bedside and slowly started to spread the pages out before her, separating them to lay across her lap and the whole of the mattress so she could see each one. She gasped. 

It was her. 

They were all pictures of her. 

Dozens of them. Charcoal sketches of a faceless woman in a cascading ball gown. Renderings of a face hidden by a mask with dark lips and starry earrings. A study of gloved hands, another of the curls of her coiffure. Oil paintings of a woman facing away in a dark garden. Watercolors of swirling blues and silver, some painted by his own fingers, abstract and without imagery but she knew what they signified. She held her breath and touched them in awe, her hands shaking. Tears streaming uncontrollably, she looked up at him, speechless.

“I have thought of nothing but you for two years,” Benedict’s voice was unsteady with emotion. “I couldn’t let myself forget you even though I didn’t know your face. You are all I can see. You are in every line I draw, every sky I paint. You are all that inspires and delights me. Don’t tell me that isn’t real, and don’t tell me you spared me any suffering by leaving.”

Swallowing hard, he knelt on one knee and took her hand in both of his own. “In my life, I have endeavored to be guided by one thing,” he paused, looking into her eyes. “My heart. And it is telling me that finding you again is not a coincidence. It is crying out for you. I know the circumstances are not perfect. I know our match would not be traditional.” He nearly spat the word. “But I have never put much stock in tradition or society. I must do what my heart bids me to, above all else. Let me show you the love and comfort that you deserve. We can find a way. Please do not condemn me to live the rest of my life as a broken man. Please, Sophie.”

Sophie’s mind was spinning. She didn’t know if there was air in the room because she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t know if she was lying or standing because she was floating. Her pulse was pounding so hard that her hand throbbed between his. In one moment everything she had ever wanted was placed before her for the taking. The love of Benedict Bridgerton. A life with him. A future. Something full of joy. It was too perfect, too unreal. Could it be this simple?

“This is real?” She asked him, her eyes dancing with a hopeful light. “I’m not still dreaming?”

Benedict grinned. “It is real. I love you Sophie, and I am begging you to stay.”

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp

[red-hibiscus]

BL characters I relate to most as a mentally ill gay trans man

Daisy from SCOY

Surprising no one, I, a trans person, relate to Daisy. They're outgoing and seemingly don't care about how people view them. They know they're visibly queer and they normally don't mind it (from what I see). But at the end of the day, society does affect them. They're hesitant to believe Touch genuinely cares and is attracted to them despite Touch being an absolute green flag who is very direct with his flirting. Even after, Daisy was worried about people would view their relationship with Touch and tried to become Day, a more masculine version of themself. Impossible of course and they broke down emotionally exhausted. I feel that so much because I also don't believe it when people, especially cis gay men, are attracted to me. I've caught myself trying to change my behavior to be more masculine (as I'm a bit on the nonbinary side of things). It's bad, but I know how Daisy feels.

Wang from 180 Degree Longtitude Passes Through Us

As a 26 year old trans gay immigrant in a country that doesn't want me, I have a shit ton of pent up anger that has been building up since I was a child. I've calmed down over the years, but I can still be stubborn and argumentative when it comes to politics and human rights. I'm also a linguistics major, thus an academic.

Wang is so much like myself and like a lot of people around me. Like me and Wang would be close friends irl I know it. We're young and stubborn. We're angry at the older conservative people around us, too much sometimes. So he lashes out. Many of his points are correct, but they're not hitting. Partially because the people he's talking to don't want to change, partially because he himself is stubborn. People like us yearn to be free, to be ourselves and to learn. Wang has a passion for the humanities like myself. Yet he knows society really only cares about STEM fields. I've compromised and am getting a master's in computational linguistics. Even though really I just wanna learn as much as I can about sociolinguistics.

Karl from Gaya Sa Pelikula

I haven't watched GSP in a hot minute, but I do remember feeling very seen.

So in the show Karl has his gay awakening, tries to internally and externally deny it, and eventually let himself be free to feel everything and be himself (at least in private).

Now I didn't have a gay awakening, but I guess you could say a trans awakening. In middle school I felt different, I suspected maybe some flavor of LGBT, but wasn't sure and I was too afraid to think about it too hard. Come high school I secretly wanted to join the LGBT club, but was afraid. Then I was essentially adopted into the LGBT club and dragged into the friend group during lunch because I was a loner like everyone else. At the time still "identified" as a cishet woman. As time went on people started to suspect. "Why are you in the club?", "why did you cut your hair", "why do you dress like that?", "your voice is low for a girl haha", etc. Much like Karl, I was not ready for any of that. I was still struggling to make sense of it all and come to terms with it myself. So I kept rejecting it and every time it hurt.

I kept rejecting it until I couldn't. Until someone I resonated with so much came out as trans and it clicked. My trans awakening was complete. I became able to be more myself, but only in private safe spaces. I wouldn't come out and live as a man until after high school and it was terrifying.

Adachi from Cherry Magic

I've only watched the jpn ver, but I'm sure that character remains the same.

I'm anxious and used to be quite shy. Now I'm just awkward. I'm really bad at seeing the good in myself cause I feel like I'm wandering around aimlessly in life. Not that impressive. So when people compliment me I think "haha they're just being nice" (refer back to me never believing people are actually attracted to me).

Adachi is the exact same. He has the same routine every day. Just going through the motions and not really thinking anything of himself. But then Kurosawa comes along and the ability to read minds. Adachi then realizes "wait, someone I respect so much actually loves me? And thinks I have a lot of good qualities? Makes me wanna cry." And me too Adachi. I'd be the same.

Jared from 7 Days Before Valentine

Jared, my precious baby, is described throughout the show as kind, but weird and different. We later learn that he has dyslexia, and honestly he seems to be somewhere on the autism spectrum. Even if he isn't, he has a behavioral difference people pick up on and then shun him for it.

I too was seen as kinda weird growing up. Maybe it was the autism, maybe it was the social anxiety. Probably both. And then of course there was the gnawing feeling that I was different than everyone else and it turns out it's because I'm trans.

So when Jared said that people didn't talk to him because he wasn't like other people it hit me so hard.

Myungha from Love For Love's Sake

The whole show is sad yet cathartic for me. Myungha is depressed yet spends his time comforting others. He has a hard time loving and receiving love. If you give him a fictional character who is very similar to him he will love them and see all the good, but he doesn't see it in himself. Relatable as hell.

I have an incredibly hard time being honest with my emotions and letting people love me and express attraction. Mostly in a romantic/sexual context. Dpdr is cockblocking me. So dating is hell, but I'm lonely and yearn to not be.

Probably if you put me in a situation like Myungha I'd also go "yep, that right there is my blorbo" and then not realize that all the things I like about the person and make me care about them are things I have.

Honorable mentions:

Both Akk and Ayan from The Eclipse

Nozue from Old Fashion Cupcake

Oh-Aew from I Told Sunset About You

Cher from A Boss and a Babe (I headcannon him as autistic)

Amber from DNA Says Love You

Uea from Bed Friend

Mitsuomi from Restart After Come Back Home

Jao from SCOY

Maybe I'll make another post for those later

[verdemoun]

does arthur ever absentmindedly go to tell dutch something then realise. oh.

also i can imagine lenny doing that when he was alive but sean was dead 😭

arthur's first time getting paid cash in hand for some small job or someone giving him $20 for helping them out with something small because he still very much enjoys helping people esp interesting characters. going home and asking where the contribution box is because half to the gang

the worst of it is unlearning outlaw behavior. he is hardwired to go to a bank and see how easy it would be to hit. there's one security guard who doesn't even have a gun and the nearest station is at least 40 minutes away with traffic dutch is going to be. oh.

chuckling to himself as he reads up on evelyn miller not even realising he only searched it because he was missing dutch. can't wait to tell -. oh.

life happening and wanting dutch to be there. to be that overconfident voice of near-reason. dutch was a constant through so much of his life (having and then losing isaac, only to have him back again but he's older and kind of a little shit, the on-and-off relationship with mary that is finally resolved) and now that's missing.

the ache when the others are feeling nostalgic and talking about their parents and fun times because his happy young memories are almost always with dutch. going to tell a story and then abruptly dismissing it with a 'nevermind'. feeling like he can't keep holding onto the good times because of what dutch became

also if that isn't canon i will whack somebody at r* you cannot tell me lenny didn't sit around camp waiting for something to do and see a book he was working on with sean (it's canon he did accept reading lessons eventually and it KILLS me) going to grab the book and then remembering sean isn't there anymore.

but also sean experiencing the exact same thing in timewarp. it's just him and bessie for weeks and he wants to show lenny so many things and then lenny's not there and then for a second it's cathartic knowing lenny will be there soon but then so much worse. how dreadful, he's going to get to see lenny soon because lenny is going to die in a shootout with pinkertons during a failed heist. almost wishing he just had to pretend to talk to lenny and show him things because that would mean lenny was okay back in 1899 but knowing he won't be.

[dreamsgazer]

OK SO mine isn't really a request because I have ideas but I can't write so they go nowhere and stay in my head because I'm incapable!!! anyway, I was thinking about a situation where reader and tangerine met on the train and they hit off right away like there's something special between them eheh, like they like each other but turns out that they're both on a mission and have the same goal - so they fight because reader steals the WHATEVER IT IS IDK that's in both their interest and manages to get off the train right under tangerine's nose when he was about to stop them, doing so in a fight reader rips tangerine's necklace, and basically breaks it and ultimately keeps it (and fixes it) . just in case. because they like him. genuinely. in fact she's very sorry for ruining the mission of the twins but it's a matter of life or death sooo rip AND they're also indirectly but maybe directly? the cause of the nasty scar tangerine now has on his neck because he risked his life because of this failed mission. and then I mean we all know what happens canonically but we Dont Care do we.... it's all a scar and a memory in the end.

ANYWAY they finally meet again when they're forced to team up by their handlers for another mission and like tangerine and lemon are mad mad because everyone was about to die on that train!! because of reader!!!! duh. also R feels very guilty because all that has happened / could've happened. and tangerine of course is angry because he was losing his life but also because he kinda was disappointed in their behavior and maybe in himself for trusting so easily a person.. anddd idk maybe there could be some angst because I love it and that's it THIS IS SO DUMB AND LONG I'm sorry I know I'll probably look to this request in a while and cringe so bad. but I'm just curious to see how you would continue it, like what do you think would happen, what are the first things they say to each other, how does it evolve things like that 🥰

of course, if you don't feel like writing anything that's totally fine and don't worry at all❤️❤️

p. s. : im sure ive taken the prompt where reader steals / ruins tangerine's mission from other fics as well so kudos to whoever came up with the idea :)

Dear Anon, first of all, thank you so much for your patience. I’m usually slow to answer, and with things being very busy at work I’m even slower. Please, do not cringe, it was awesome to read your ideas, and I was so happy you sent this message. Thank you so much ❤️ , and I hope you enjoy how this turned out!

A Darling Mess

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" you groan, letting your head hit the wall behind you. The golden necklace glints between your fingers.

You didn't mean to steal it. You really didn't. You didn't mean to run into the Twins and most certainly didn't mean to hook up with the moustached one in one of the bathrooms on that cursed train either.

More accurately, you shouldn't have wanted to hook up with him, but as soon as the two of you had crossed paths in one of the carriages, you knew it was going to happen. And when it happened it was quick and glorious and earth-shaking, and you hoped you were going to see him again. 

Then everything went to shit, you two fought for that damned suitcase - his hands apparently were really good for many different things - and you barely ran away from that train with all your limbs.

Your smartphone buzzes incessantly. It's your handler.

"Where are you?"

It's not like him to sound so distressed.

"Not sure about the exact position, it's an alley near Nagoya station. I think I need a lift."

He tells you about a derailed bullet train and how it seems a lot of people - assassins like you, but still... people - died. One of the Twins as well, according to the info he got. The moustached one. You feel a pang of pain in your chest, which is stupid because he was just a stranger you fucked on a train.

A year has passed. Tokyo has slowly just started to become a mission you will remember with regret for a long time when you find yourself pointing your weapon at Moustache Guy again. While he's doing the same. And his brother is aiming a gun at you as well.

Shit.

You are more surprised to see him most definitely alive than to have him threatening you.

“You owe me a great deal,” he hisses, low and dangerous “You fucked up our mission, stole my fucking necklace, and almost got me killed. Almost got my brother killed as well! Why shouldn’t I murder you on the spot?”

You frown “First of all, the necklace got caught in my jacket while you were using me as a human punching ball. Second,” you add, eyes only quickly flickering on the huge, angry scar on his neck “one of you is going to kill me for sure, but I can guarantee you I will take the other down with me.”

Anger blazes in his eyes and you push further, adrenaline pumping in your veins “Third, asshole, you and your brother here screwed up since the moment you decided to leave the suitcase and the boy you were supposed to escort unguarded! What utterly morons do that?”

A pause and then you decide to further test your luck “Last but not least, I’m sorry you two almost got killed. I can apologize for my part in that, even if it’s a small one. But I won’t accept you blaming me for the rest, Moustache Boy!”

His nostrils flare, and he glares at you. It’s unfair that he looks even more ravishing with that savagery seeping from him in hot waves. Also, you probably shouldn’t get distracted by that, since the danger of being shot is a very real one.

Lemon’s laughter is short, and he nods at you, interrupting the impasse “This one got quite a temper, uh? I kind of see the fascination with the... situation.”

Tangerine snarls an insult at him, but it carries no real venom. 

In the end, after some calls from your handler and his reminders to the Twins that they have to collaborate with you on this mission and an offer to triple the pay for all of your messed up trio, guns are put away, hands tentatively shaken, and scowls mostly kept under control. 

You know they still blame you for your part in the train debacle. Yet, true to their professional reputation, they carry through the mission. It’s a long one.

Living in such proximity inevitably leads to some kind of tepid intimacy. Lemon is the first one to soften up a bit. He starts to ask you if you want some coffee. He asks you about your favourite book, once he spots you reading it to fight your insomnia. He thanks you after you retrieve a USB pen that will help with the job. And one day he gives you a sticker of some train and tells you that despite everything you are not a Diesel. You are not sure what it means, and Tangerine indeed scoffs at the words, but after that things are a little less tense, between the three of you.

Tangerine slowly stops glaring at you and once he almost compliments your ability in combat, after you knock out a goon that was going to stab him. 

The progress is little but steady, and one night, for a hilarious twist of the events, the moon finds you two looking outside the same window, in the little apartment you have been given as a base.

“I’m sorry you got shot.”

He nods at your words, slightly sniffing and making his moustache move over his very kissable lips. 

“Thanks,” he hesitates before quickly murmuring his own apology about blaming you and only you “I think my ego got a tad hurt realizing you shagged me just because of a honeypot mission.”

“I didn’t,” it's the quiet murmur that gently interrupts his gruff confession. 

He scoffs “I very much think we did it in that bathroom, love.”

“Not that,” you roll your eyes at him “I meant it wasn’t a honeypot mission. I- I did not hook up with you because of work. I didn’t even know you and Lemon were the ones having that cursed briefcase, at the time.”

Tangerine just looks at you, and you look back at him “I have your necklace. It got a bit damaged, but I had a jeweller fix it. I know it’s stupid, but I thought-”

Your voice dies down a bit and you are not really shocked to feel his calloused hand gently cupping your face, making you look at him “What did you think?”

You swallow “I thought I was going to find out where Lemon put your grave and bring the necklace there.”

You feel a tear roll down your cheek, and then another, and another. He kisses them, one by one, his lips lingering on your soft skin, and you sob “I’m so stupidly glad you didn’t die.”

He chuckles against your lips “So am I, my darling.”

You kiss him and he kisses you back, and the morning after Lemon is not surprised to catch you coming out from Tangerine’s bedroom.

Sensing your hesitation, he winks at you “Glad it happened. Be good to him, ya?”.

And of course, you nod back, with all your heart.

[portmantaur]

I don’t think the pet eating narrative is funny at all esp bc of my probably somewhat individualized history of growing up in the racist midwest and vividly remembering how that exact, almost note for note, rhetoric was levied violently against asian immigrants in the area

but something I’ve been chewing on that makes me kind of sad and also a bit flummoxed is how that “story” (racist & xenophobic fabrication-cum-rumor) was only widely televised/spread basically like, the night before the debate, and some of the staff at abc saw that and IMMEDIATELY clocked that a man who used to be president of the United States would so absolutely take that bait and try to use it to serve his agenda that they were like “we need to have that fact-check ready to go”

that’s such a devastatingly sad state of affairs. they were right of course, and despite me personally being put off by the meme-ifying of it all, I -do- think that outside of the cultishly devoted voter set that guy has, it actually did damage to his general image (especially among the target demographic of the debate, which is frankly not me and not most of the people in my general circles) — AND it gave Harris the very relevant opportunity to laugh at him publicly which, whatever my or anyone else’s feelings on the matter, will ABSOLUTELY track well as a strategy with that same target demographic.

it just gives me kind of a headache to know that that behavior is so predictable in this person. like does anyone remember growing up with the bush jr elections and believing that we had hit rock bottom in terms of scraping the barrel of competency and education/intelligence for presidential candidates? there was so much meme-ification of bush’s misspeaking and lack of understanding on certain topics. like that “jib jab” or whatever animation that got hot for a minute during his re-election/2nd term. and I remember being a literal child in middle school believing that it couldn’t get worse than this, we couldn’t lower our standards for candidates any further without hitting bedrock.

& now at the ripe age of 32 I watched a man more or less proudly announce that he doesn’t know the difference between tariffs and taxes on live television, and also be correctly predicted to take the most unreliable and ignorant bait imaginable such that not even his opponent but the moderators had to have “so reports say that is entirely untrue” right there in the chamber because everyone and their mother knew when that racist story got published that a dude who was literally already president for four years would fully and gleefully take that bait — and then defend himself against the necessary fact check by saying, will full confidence, “well I saw it on television.”

& I have substantial issues with harris’ (sort of vague) platform and her refusal thus far to differentiate from the current administration on foreign policy specifically, AND her apparent insistence on running center in comparison to her congressional record to capture those (perceived) votes, and boy howdy did she say some really disappointing things —

but knowing that the debate is not really the stage for announcing new policy and also knowing me and like-minded people are not the target of the debate, AND seeing the performance of the opponent she’s up against im just.

im very tired man. everything happens so much.

[dykephan]

irt your recent post which homophobic jokes was dan making at phils expense :( ??? i remember there being weird tension but cant remember the specifics

sorry i would normally go find the clips and exact quotes but tbh that would be a sad deep dive and i don't feel like doing that 😭😭 but the ones i remember the most are the one where they play gay chicken and dan slaps his hand away and says "get the fuck off me weirdo, freaks like you should be arrested" (obviously it was a planned joke, but still uncomfortable to watch). the halloween quiz video where phil said something silly and dan says "wow... you need a girlfriend". dan used to pretend he didn't even like phil and that they never even talked outside of youtube videos, they would just go to their rooms (i actually do believe this was true for a period of time but we can't get into that right now fksjfks). then there's the stuff that's harder to pinpoint but you know it when you see it: like emphasizing how weird and not-manly phil is, it was a common joke but it didn't always hit right

also during the tons and tons of times he denied being in a relationship with phil, he would usually insult phil somehow. like when dan was insisting that the v/day video was a prank, he said something to the extent of "what kind of idiot would upload that to their youtube channel on private, phil knows better than to do something so stupid" which like. ouch :( the fact that they made it through that time and only got stronger is mind boggling

again i'm not trying to make him sound like an asshole, i relate to this behavior so much and that's why it's hard to see. when it was happening in 2012 it didn't feel as obvious that he was hurting, because most youtube duos were not real true best friends for life, they were just business partners who liked each other well enough. so i think a lot of us assumed that dan and phil were the same way - really close on camera but not so close irl. obviously it turned out to be the complete opposite but most of us didn't know that then. maybe we even thought they were queerbaiting (long before we knew what that word meant) because youtube shipping was huuuuuge at the time and a lot of straight youtubers played into it for views, because to them it was just another joke and they knew it didn't affect their real lives. i think dan tried to imitate that, but it fell flat for obvious reasons and most of the time it came across as mean and bitter. but i give him a lot more slack than i would if this had happened in our current youtube culture