#I was so stoked to finish some chapters too

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

Life update. Laptop has decided to go on strike (have a BIOS error I think). if I disappear it’s bc I’m waiting for my laptop to return from the war sdggdjdhd

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Espansivo

Chapter Twenty four

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Sam, Tiny, Sera Siege, Charlie, Donna, Jody, Patience, Nancy Fitzgerald, Andy Gallagher, Lee/Pam, Gibson child OMC, Annie/Bobby, Kevin

Word Count: 2308

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, hope

A/N: Dean gets to do the thing he loves to do. The brothers have a moment. The band gets ready to rock.

Series Masterlist

Dean rolled over in bed and smiled to himself. Tonight, he’d be on stage, starting the tour at home with back-to-back nights at the Forum. They were due in for set up and soundcheck by three, but he and Sam usually got there earlier. Plus, he wanted to check in on Jody and Donna. He hadn’t got the chance to talk to them since the conference call with their band, manager and Crowley and Bobby. 

Sheriffs, Psychics and Secretaries was their opener for the whole stretch, giving them a softer, sultrier intro than most of their fans expected. But Dean liked to play favorites, and once he found out they were free, he made it happen. Bobby helped, having worked with Jody when she was barely out of high school and starting out as a background singer.

The four piece all women band would definitely boost their Canadian ticket sales and Dean hoped to collaborate a bit further down the schedule.

He should have gotten up, but instead he just unplugged his phone and checked his messages. The band was pumped, Pam texted at seven with a pic of Gibson in one of the latest shirts from merch, which Dean hadn’t even seen yet. Then there was Kevin, who sometime after midnight asked how often they’d be able to do laundry, packing at the last minute like a true rookie.

Luckily, Pam had answered without too much sarcasm, so Dean didn’t feel bad for missing it. He sent a ‘get pumped’ gif and finally crawled out of bed.

As much as he loved touring, there was one thing that hotel rooms couldn’t compete with and that was his own custom-made shower. So Dean took his time, luxuriating beneath the hot water and amazing pressure. If he rubbed one out to take the edge off before a long day, that was his business.

And if the image of you on your knees in said shower was what pushed him over, he’d never admit it.

He got dressed and found the lukewarm pot of coffee Sam left for him in the empty kitchen. Dean sipped his coffee and strolled around the house, saying a silent ‘see ya later’. Their luggage and instruments littered the foyer, waiting for Tiny to pick them up and store what they didn’t need on the bus until they left Sunday night.

He finished his coffee on the pool deck, making sure the hot tub lid was on tight and everything else was put away. He knew their people would take care of anything he missed, but it helped him feel prepared to go through the motions. He’d never forgiven himself for not cleaning out the fridge before their first tour and ended up having to buy a whole new one.

Sam showed up with food and an extra set of toiletries and chargers for them both. Another thing they learned the hard way along the way. Always keep a set of clean underwear and a spare shirt, toothbrush, and deodorant in a backpack, just in case. And they didn’t even fly.

“Thanks, man,” Dean held up his pharmacy bag in gratitude, set it on the counter where he wouldn’t miss it and put his mug in the dishwasher.

Sam settled onto one of the stools, unwrapped his sandwich, and asked before he took a bite, “you ready?”

“Are you kidding?! I’m fucking stoked.” Dean shoved some chips into his mouth and waited as Sam finished chewing.

“No, I know, just checking in. It’s a long tour— longest we’ve ever done.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean looked down at his food and sighed. “Is it weird that the length doesn’t scare me? It almost feels right, like the longer we go, the more we prove them wrong?”

“The proverbial them? Yeah, I get it. It’s a marathon and they’re used to a sprint.”

“Exactly.” Dean bit into his own sandwich, the mayo pooled at the corners of his mouth and he savored the mix of flavors and textures. Damn, Sam still got him what he liked, even if it’d kill him someday.

“And Missouri is good with video-conferencing?”

Dean nodded and swallowed, wiping off the mess on his face. “Yeah, honestly we barely meet in person anymore anyway. She knows we’ll be on the road.”

“Okay, cool.”

Dean watched Sam’s mouth pinch as he thought of other things he should ask Dean. And things he didn’t want to bring up but probably should.

“It’s okay, let me have it. What else has got you so constipated?”

Sam looked pained at the accusation, but he huffed and got over it. “Look, I just need to know you’ve got a backup plan— plans even. If something sets you off, things you can do to keep it together or work through it or whatever.”

“Bobby asked you to check on me, didn’t he?”

Sam glared. “Can you blame him?”

Dean tossed his napkin on the counter and rocked back on his heels. “No, I guess not.”

“Trouble too— wanted to make sure you weren’t too distracted with the Bela stuff to tour.”

“She said that?”

“In not so many words.”

Dean chewed on that for a second. “Huh.”

Maybe you weren’t so unaffected after all. 

“I’m good, man. I’ve got the tools okay? Breathing, meditation or mindfulness or whatever it’s called these days, but also I can hit the gym if it’s too much or even call Missouri if it’s an emergency. I know what to do. And besides, it’s not like I’m used to living in the rage high these days— you know? I’m not that guy anymore.”

Sam looked Dean in the eye, his puppy dog eyes were intense but forgiving. “I know you’re not— I’m proud of you by the way. That guy last tour would have cussed me out for even asking.”

“Or broke your nose,” Dean agreed.

“If you could even reach it,” Sam teased.

Dean rolled his eyes and dug back into his lunch.

Dean pulled his guitars out of the back of the black Yukon Tiny had picked them up in. His sunglasses and cap on tight as he kept his head on a swivel in the underground parking ramp, knowing there’d be photographers all over the place as soon as they could weasel their way in. Once Sam had a bass on his back, his own acoustic in one hand and another bass in the other they headed inside, with Tiny and Co’s escort and curt nods toward the venue staff.

They were greeted by a very flustered event coordinator named Sera who wasn’t expecting them for another hour.

“Not a problem, we’ll stay out of your hair. Can’t do much until Charlie is ready for sound check anyway.”

“The redhead?” She squirmed, clearly annoyed. “She’s already here, too. Look— just don’t break anything. Your publicist is sorting through badges down the hall, please just have your security team meet with Mike, our security head before anybody starts moving freely beyond this level— or the stretch of dressing rooms.”

Dean and Sam shared a look, they never expected special treatment, but as the headliners they had come to expect a little more, not reverence, but respect at least.

“Whatever you say lady,” Dean agreed and picked his instruments back up so as not to seem like he’s getting too comfortable.

She motioned for her assistant to follow them as she stormed down the hall the opposite direction they’d arrived from.

“We asked the opening band to stay on their bus until we could vouch for them, but now that you’re here— we can do that. Where’s your manager anyhow? I thought I had sent him all of this already?”

“He’s with the road crew, Bobby likes to work his way in. So, let me get this straight, you haven’t let anyone besides our head tech and publicist in yet today?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been charmed too many times by an accent Mr. Winchester— they’ll get their passes and everyone can do their jobs.”

He did not envy whatever bullshit spiel she’d given Benny.

She gestured for Sam and Dean to lead the way into a small cul-du-sac of offices in which they instantly spotted you in the middle one, untangling lanyards with a stack of plastic ids stacked in multiple piles all strewn across a usurped desk.

“Oh thank god!” You practically growled. “Here.”

Dean set down his guitars and took his pass and handed Sam his, who was shuffling awkwardly inside the small space. 

“You seen Bobby?” Sam asked you.

You rolled your eyes. “No, but he hasn't stopped calling me to figure this out. So I’m going to go start handing these out, please go find Victor so the girls can get situated. I feel like they got the unwelcome wagon this morning— after hauling ass down from Vancouver, too”

“On it,” Dean agreed. “Just gotta drop off our gear and we’ll go find ‘em.”

The venue’s staff all seemed to have other places to look than at the very urgent glares from you and the brothers.

“I’m sorry, I’m just used to a lot more layers to an organization than however it is you’re set up,” Sera snipped, sidestepping behind her desk that you had clearly pushed back to make room for sorting.

“Yeah, we don’t hand off stuff to underpaid lackeys, this band is a family business,” Dean snapped back.

“Clearly,” she said unamused, eying the space between Dean and you suspiciously. 

It was then that he realized you were both wearing ratty Zeppelin shirts and he exhaled. He turned to Sam and tipped his head back toward the hall, Sam nodded in agreement and then Dean leaned in to whisper to you, “good luck.”

You grunted in your throat, but faux smiled at him at the same time, basically saying ‘you’re lucky I love my job.’

If Dean could muster up some bravery and more self esteem, that smile could have been saying ‘you’re lucky I love you.’

“You got this,” he insisted and turned to once again haul his gear back down the dark concrete hall.

SPS, as Jody and Donna’s band was dubbed for ease, all practically tackled Dean after he knocked on the door to their tour bus and brought them their golden tickets.

“Dean-o, it’s so good to see ya,” Donna beamed, stealing his hat and turning it backward in order to plant a wet one on his cheek.”

He chuckled, “you too, D-train. Alright, ladies, let’s get you unloaded. Sam’s outside, too, so put him to work.”

He hugged Jody next and then shook Nancy’s hand, since she was more reserved with her physical affection than the others. And lastly there was Patience, who mimed slugging him on the shoulder before giving him a side-armed hug. 

“Thanks for putting our name in the ring, can’t tell you what this means to us, Dean.”

“Nah, come on. Besides, you guys earned it. Let’s get you ready to kill tonight, alright?”

Her big brown eyes sparkled and Dean suddenly realized he was ushering in a new generation of musicians. Between her, Nancy and Kevin, this was the youngest troupe they’d worked with since the rest of them were that age.

“It’s going to be amazing.”

Something in Dean knew she was right.

Pamela reassembled her kit herself after absolutely admonishing the rookie roadies who had dared to start without her. Annie had Gibson in the wings as Phantom Traveler took the stage. Their mics were a nightmare to sort out, but Charlie was good at what she did so she got everything in line and prepped before they got too far behind. She’d also helped SPS and the in-house tech team so they could maximize the space. It was a helluva venue to start off in, but Dean wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Opening night’s setlist had been locked since the second rehearsal, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t expand it if they were so inclined. Encores might have become expected, but the number of songs could always vary.

So Dean had them go over a few untouched oldies, things he wanted dusted off, just in case.

The energy between the band was unmatched. Easy smiles and intuitive rifts flowed forth the longer they played. Sure, they were nervous, Dean and Kevin probably the most. But it wasn’t fear, it was anticipation.

Dean soared with each note. It had been so long since he’d felt this alive. And after the past few years and the places he’d been, the things he’d put them all through, especially after losing Cas’, it finally felt like he had pulled himself out of the abyss. His band beside him, Dean was ready for the tour, but also whatever came after. 

As they were moving things to the wings for SPS to take the stage in a mere two hours and six minutes, Dean heard your laugh over the chaos. Looking around, he spotted you and Andy, the band’s go to photographer getting candid shots of the crew and band. It was like night and day, seeing you relaxed and excited now, compared to how frustrated and embarrassed you had been earlier in Sera’s office.

Dean knew he was in trouble this tour, having you so close, so present, and for so long was going to kill him slowly. Or his resolve at least. He’d taken on the Bela deal to get back in everyone’s good graces. And he’d even had some fun. 

But she wasn’t you.

Sam knew it and he was pretty sure Bobby and Annie knew it too.

Maybe if tonight went well, maybe it’d be enough.

Maybe he could be free from the tabloids and Twitter feeds and be allowed to make his own decisions again.

Maybe it was time for more.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

@brightlilith

@coldhearted93

@djs8891

Chapter 25: Vivace

[lexluvswriting]

ꔫ L'autunno.

ꔫ Ch: 4 [last page] [next page]

-> Pairing: Eris x ballet dancer!fem!reader.

-> (CW): x fem!reader (she/her), slow-burn, rivals to lovers, tinkle of angst on occasion, fluff, non-specified identity Summer Court!reader, no specific time in storyline except it's after Amarantha. things get get cheeky... teehee.

-> (TW): Allusions to domestic violence/abuse (L.O.A + Beron), eris has trauma flashbacks, sexual tension? maybe? someone read it and tell me pls. eris practically pining for reader but simultaneously pissing her off, reader x eris finally kiss, raahh!!

W/C: 3.5k

╰┈➤ Lex's note: UHM... guys... please ignore that i last posted in April or something... double degrees are not for the weak 😔✊OOH! ALSO: you two share a kiss- :O -and reader likes it >:D did I pull an all-nighter for this chapter, AND almost finish up to chapter six in one night? ... yes. do i also have an important exam in 5 hours? ... also yes. i couldn't help myself- I missed writing, okay?! anyway, pls pls pls, don't be afraid to comment & let me know what you liked, disliked or loved!!

You had both sat on the ledge of the ampitheatre, taking in the peaceful quiet, enjoying the nature that surrounded you both before you huffed softly at how ‘casual’ the setting was. A pretty patterned rug was laid out to be sat on, with porcelain cups, dishes, and all sorts of rich, fancy-fae delicacies: tea cakes of different shapes, flavours and colours; neatly cut sandwiches with different pastes, spices and fillings.

“Where’s your little throne?”

You nodded, not waiting for him before picking a sandwich to take a bite of- your stomach fluttering when you didn’t taste poison, but rather a delightful taste combination. He grinned slyly and clicked his tongue, feigning disappointment as he poured you and himself tea that smelt like bergamot and honey.

“Would have been too big for my servants to winnow, I’m afraid.”

His tone was airy and snobbish- as if he had read your mind, thus playing along to the tune of your harsh assumptions- so you rolled your eyes, food pushed into the side of your mouth to mumble out, “Figured you would have used some of them as footstools and makeshift seats instead.”

Eris huffed, before thinking over the weight of your snark which drew a chuckle that dissolved into a soft laugh of disbelief. You ignored the way the sound made your insides flutter- or perhaps that was just organ failure. He looked at you incredulously, shaking his auburn covered head as he filled your plate, then his.

“Is that what you truly think of me?”

You continued to chew, your face expressive enough to fill the silence, which made him chuckle more.

“I certainly have underestimated you, little swan,” You grumbled at the ‘feigned’ endearment, but it didn’t deter him, “You are not merely a pretty face at all. You also possess a delightful, deadly fire. Now, whether it makes you stupidly brave, or bravely stupid, I’m not sure. Even worse, I’m not sure if that intrigues me, or irritates me.” He hummed, and it seemed to stoke ‘said fire’ within you- your own pride being stroked, so you gave him a bemused half-smirk,

“Why not both?”

He raised an eyebrow at your rather coy tone, and you almost thought you liked that ‘slightly startled, slightly intrigued’ look he wore, before you remembered what he was- who he was- and looked away disinterestedly. But you knew him; or at least, knew he was trained in the arts of charming females as if it was as easy as breathing. Something in your gut told you he liked those that played ‘hard-to-get’ and the feelings that festered and stewed made you confused. Again, as if he was reading your mind, he answered accordingly:

“Almost sounds like you’re flirting with me, darling.” His serve. So the match starts.

A scoff, accompanied by a simple shake of your head. “Spare me. Just how exactly have you made it this far in life, lordling?” A simple hit back into his court.

“Is that admiration I hear?” A lazy return.

“You wish it was.” Shaking your head as you sipped the sweet, citrusy tea he poured. A back-hand swing with a bit of force.

“I do, actually. If it means you’ll stop being so shrewd.” Parried back wonderfully, much to your dismay.

“Is this how you usually find ladies to court? By acting like an arse.” You ask flatly, and he pauses. Victory.

You smirk, glancing down at the tea cup, before the silence goes on for too long. Your lips tug into a frown, but you don’t look up. Is he angry? Something tugs at your stomach, then your chest, and you finally look back up at him, only to catch him staring at you with an expression you didn’t recognise. You straightened- almost angry at yourself for feeling nervous. But you didn’t know him. Didn’t know his moods, his temperaments. Didn’t know what he did in his spare time.

The lordling seemed to sense your fidgeting and looked away; out towards the view of the sprawling Autumn colours that dotted the trees on the horizon.

“... So… what brought you to the Autumn Court?”

You blinked up at him, raising an eyebrow, before remembering you had told him you weren’t from here.

“Apparently, as a baby, I was dropped off at an orphanage near the place I live now, with some sort of Summer Court emblem and a scarf. However, I’ve got no ties, no leads to any family that I know of, and I haven’t sought them out either.” He watched you as you spoke, and before you could comment or add more, he beat you to it.

“How miserable.”

You flinched before stilling, blinking repeatedly at him. How… miserable?

Disbelief contorted your face as you looked at him like he had grown three heads. Did he just-?

Eris simply watched you, tilting his head slightly, his russet eyes meeting yours in a stare that wasn’t hostile; rather, it was him trying to figure you out like some sort of puzzle. However, his random response had caught you off guard, making you chuckle softly, before you covered your mouth quickly, only to hold your head in your hands as you began to genuinely laugh.

“Have I misspoke?”

You laughed more at his polite yet confused tone, shaking your head as you tried to control yourself, only to laugh more, which spurred a few chuckles from the male sitting across from you.

“Hold on- I only meant it in the sense that-”

“No, no!” You forced out as you gasped for air, trying to reign in your amusement as you watched him watch you again, with him seeming oddly… content with how you laughed at him.

“I… I get it. Honestly, Eris- Sorry… ‘Lord’ Eris-” He rolled his eyes, waving a hand as you continued,

“How in the Cauldron did you make it this far in life?” You chuckled again, while he flashed a strangely sweet, cheeky smile. It was almost endearing. Almost.

“Would you believe me if I said ‘through uncanny wit and dazzling charm?’” His dryness made you snicker, before a small smile grew on your face. He hummed as you did so, looking down at his hand while you caught yourself staring again; both of you sitting in the silence as you briefly self-reflected. Why was he being funny? Why could he make you laugh simply… simply by being himself?Why was it so easy to get lost in staring at him? You continued to watch him- not knowing how intensely your eyes twinkled, nor the way it made his blood heat in a way that surprised him. Yet, he caught you, finally.

“[Y/N] darling, if you keep staring at me like that, it might put ideas in my head.” He mused, and you jerked your head away instantly, hearing him snicker as you rolled your eyes.

“Why won’t you let yourself enjoy today, little swan?” He teased, but your response wasn’t as light.

“If I do, it will mean that I am as easy, and as useless as all the others that you manage to bewitch. I simply won’t let that happen.” You replied hollowly, a small part of you not even believing your own answer. Eris sucked his tooth, watching you with a nod as if you had said something truly confounding, before he clicked his tongue and stood up.

“Alright. Let’s walk.” Eris nodded at you, before offering a hand with a sly smile, waiting for you to move. You blinked up at him, raising an eyebrow before deciding to take his hand- unlike the carriage, where he practically lifted you like it was nothing- pulling yourself up.

What the hell would a walk do?

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

“Tell me honestly, swan. Why do you dislike me- not my family- but me, so heavily?” Eris encouraged the dancer to speak freely as you both walked down the hill. He noticed the way your eyes avoided his, instead mapping out all the different shades of brown, orange and red leaves. He watched you shrug, and internally pulled at his hair. What had you so reserved?

He wanted to say something- taunt you, tease you, even trick you into speaking- but when you hesitated, looking at the ground for an answer that wouldn’t be so easily given, he shut up immediately. It was only when you tried to avoid the question that something triggered within him to reach for and grab your arm; grabbing gently, merely to pull you back to where he had stopped walking.

“Hey-” You had snapped, baring your teeth before pulling your arm away, the action making his heart race as you did so. How wonderful- when your eyes gleamed the way they did. Did you even know how beautiful you looked? When you looked at him like you wanted to throttle him? Or, what about when you had laughed so freely before, and his brain had completely blanked?

Eris sighed wistfully, determined to crack the nut that was your eccentric, explosive enigma of a mind. 

“When you do things like that- acting like you just have some claim on me- I don’t like it.So when you do it often, or other things I don’t like, it makes it easier to dislike you.” You spoke succinctly, and he couldn’t argue with that. At least you answered him. Yet Eris watched you anyway, hoping you’d continue. When he stayed silent, he realised his staring made you nervous as you wiped your hands on your dress, delicate hands grabbing at the fabric to fidget as you pushed yourself to answer his initial question.

He willed his expression to be neutral as you began to speak- the words spilling from your lip like a fast flowing river. But his restraint was in vain- before he knew it, he was absolutely entranced by your thoughts and ideas. The way you spoke about your studies- the passion, the assertiveness you carried as you listed the criticisms your ‘surrogate mother Ordelia’ had helped you draft in an assignment; an ‘unsent response’ to his father’s unfair increase of land tax, and the random raids or ‘removals’ that always seemed to happen towards the end of the day, targeting certain fae of non-native identities. He had to remind himself to meet with this fae. She sounded like quite the female.

You had told Eris about the families that were getting displaced- how people were terrified to leave their homes because of these new restrictions- and his brain spun like a spinning top. You dared compare Beron’s treatment to the tyrant of a female that had held Prythian hostage for almost fifty years prior, and his nostrils flared, but he stayed silent. Did you realise what you were saying? How brave, how brilliant- how possibly stupid it was? Being so bold saying these ideas so freely? He almost felt liberated from the confines of his own mind- where, for too long, he had been too afraid to dare bring light to these thoughts of his own.

Eris didn’t dare stop you, so you continued, even scolding Eris himself on his ‘petty blackmail’ of your ballet instructor- he decided there and then that he wanted you to criticise and chastise him like that all the time- advocating for the old studio, and the children who used it to escape poverty in their own villages, in their own homes. Unbeknownst to you, the heir seemed to fall more and more in love with every word you said. He figured it would probably be his demise if he were to compliment you on your ideas- you seemed to treat anything he said as a callous taunt, or cruel mockery. But the heir couldn’t help himself as he exhaled softly.

“Brilliant.”

He nodded, watching you intensely, before shaking his head with a scoff, looking away.

“Ballerinas are doing politics now,” And you’re somehow doing them in the way he had always dreamed of, “What a world we live in.” He would have happily sung your praises from the treetops. He was prepared to present your ideas- your works to his father and call him out on his tirade. So why was it that, when he looked back at you, you looked up at him with a mixture of hurt and disappointment?

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

“You weren’t listening to a single word, were you?” The disappointment in your voice was almost laughable. You felt bitterness coat your tongue like film as you observed the heir. There it was. That feigned incredulity, the false intrigue and interest. In his eyes, like so many other males, all you’d ever be recognised as was just a pretty little ballerina. A pretty female, with pretty eyes, hips for child-rearing, and a figure that was easy on the eyes.

“[Y/N]... You- you have just recited every single measure I have ever wanted to implement.” He had stopped walking to watch your disappointment manifest, and he shook his head again, reaching for you before hesitating as you whipped back to glare at him. Well… at least he listened to one thing.

“I don’t need your pity, lordling.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say!”

“Oh, boohoo!” You snapped, glaring up at the heir, “I know what you see in me- what your ‘expectations’ are. You want me to sit still and be pretty while I have to be subjected to this- this stupid ball with all these rich, ignorant nobles who-”

“Who couldn’t give a damn about the people who starve right outside their doors, right?” He finished your sentence- he cut you off, and you paused.

“Are you mocking me?”

“No, [Y/N]. I know what you’re thinking. I’ve thought the exact same- down to the letter, every damned day.” He grabbed you, and your eyes narrowed, ready to warn him off you when he interjected again.

“Just- listen.” He snapped, and your mouth shut, even as you glared daggers up at him, “Do you know how exhausting it is, having to carry the burdens of that bastard?” Your eyes widened.

Was this real? Where the Hell had this come from? You opened your mouth, but he put his hand over it,

“Just wait before you spit in my face, stubborn thing.” He hissed, before continuing,

“We are… The Vanserra family… it is not glorious, and- and luxurious, and absolutely ignorant.” He was hardly fluent, hesitating and restarting the sentence. It felt wrong, unnerving. This was not the pompous, cocky, ‘typical’ arrogant noble who had half of the Autumn Court’s female population vying for him. This wasn’t the smug, dominant asshole who had watched you dance, and snidely spoke to you in the hallway of your ballet studio.

No.

This was the male- the son- who had snarled at you in the carriage when you tried to slander the Lady of the Autumn Court. There- you saw it again- that vulnerability, that hollowness that hid behind his eyes every time he stood next to his father; whether it was during royal festivals or important ceremonies. The oldest Vanserra son had gone- gotten trapped in a memory; somewhere dark, somewhere hostile and hurtful. So you decided there and then, regardless of the dislike you held for him, that you’d  hold him and wait.

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

Sounds of fists landing hits, a cacophony of muffled crashing and banging came from behind the closed door that Eris waited at tearfully- willing his child self to march in there and defend his mother, only to be completely stuck; paralysed by fear.

Warmth came from somewhere, somewhere distant, and there was the dull echo of a voice that made his chest tighten.

--- ⋆⁺₊✧˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☾⋆⁺₊✧⋆ ---

You watched him grow distant, his eyes losing their usual gleam- not that you cared to notice, as you’d easily deny. Something made your hands move on their own, pulling his hand off your mouth so you could grab them in yours, watching him with emotions that made your stomach knot and shrivel.

“Eris?”

You called again, and he jerked- the abrupt movement making you flinch while the heir exhaled shakily. As he looked back down at you, he saw the way you held his hands, initiating contact. When he moved, you followed his gaze, unsure why you were still holding onto him. You did that, all of your own accord. You did it, yet you weren’t sure why.

Eris swallowed thickly- you even watched the way his throat bobbed, before his hands slowly, shakily cupped your face. Your eyes never left him; you didn’t move to push him away either. What had he seen? Where had he gone?

“[Y/N] [L/N].” Your heart jerked as he murmured your name- the timbre of his voice low, soul-wrenching as his russet irises bore into yours.

“I want you to meet my father. I want-... I want you to meet him, and tell him exactly what you told me.”

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head,

“No- Not on your life-”

“Please.”

Again, his lips had come close to yours, like they had in the carriage, and you felt yourself go deathly still.

“Eris?”

“Please, [Y/N].”

“Eris-”

“You’re brilliant.” The male breathed, his eyes scanning you quickly, almost anxiously, like he was afraid your attention would shift away from him. You were brilliant? He thought… he thought you were brilliant. You swallowed, eyes fluttering as you looked up at him, stare never breaking. Looking into his eyes, being so close, it felt like you were staring down at a body of water at the bottom of a cliff. Was it shallow? Were there hidden rocks- jagged, hungry for bones to shatter? Was this what leaps of faith were?

“You don’t… you don’t care.” You shook your head stubbornly, resisting the pull.

“You- You are the most brilliant fae I know-” His serve, again.

“You’ve barely known me!” A hard knockback from yourself; the ball was in his court.

“I’ve never known anyone with a mind like yours, [Y/N].” A powerful hit back into your court.

“No.” You barely hit it back in his court, so close to crumbling.

“[Y/N]-” He fumbled.

“I’m not going to make a fool of myself in front of your father, Eris. What power do I hold?” A harsh serve to start the match.

“The knowledge you carry- the way you see the world- the way you solve problems that noblemen in my father’s court have been stuck on for years-” Your eyes widened at his words- you fumbled the hit.

“Eris- No- No! It is not my responsibility to fix your father’s inadequacies!” You snapped, pushing away gently as you looked away, your mind racing. You needed to go. Your heart- your stomach- Hell, you were even feeling the slightest bit aroused! You needed to go- needed to get away to think-

His hands grabbed you again, cupping your face and tilting your head up ever-so-gently, as if he thought you were made of porcelain.

“[Y/N].” Your mind blanked when you heard the way he pleaded- pleaded!

Well… if he said your name like that…

“Eris-” Your hands reached up to his- whether to hold, or to push away, you weren’t sure yet. The Vanserra male barely gave you a chance to decide before he sealed the gap between your lips, his eyes shutting while yours widened in shock, before promptly shutting them tight. 

He was kissing you. Eris Vanserra was kissing you. He thought you were brilliant, he thought you were 

The kiss was… It was…

You didn’t even know. It certainly felt like he was holding back- like he was trying to be a gentleman, and a small part of you appreciated the attempt as you moved your lips against his ever-so-slightly. His tongue didn’t swipe for your lip hungrily; his teeth didn’t tug at your bottom lip; nor did his hands move from where they held your face. Your body felt like it was on fire- a primal, lonely part of your brain urging him to lead, to do something. But he pulled away after the ‘virginal’ kiss, breathing heavily, as if it pained him to pull away- to hold himself back.

You stared up at him dumbly, eyes glittering in the autumn sun as you both stared at each other in something of shock and awe. Why did it feel like your heart was caving in when he kissed you? Why did it feel like the stars had aligned when he pressed his lips against yours so gently- so out of character for him?

“What was that?” You muttered, still shell-shocked, while he turned away, almost as if he was unwell. He shook his head- ignoring your question.

“Eris?” You urged, pulling on his arm impatiently before he turned back to face you, his voice a low murmur.

“[Y/N]... I want you to meet my father.”

╰┈➤ Lex's note 2: OH GOD. okay. OKAY, I DID IT. i did it! it's done! i have posted a chapter again!! (hopefully) i can get back to my usual posting schedule!! i have 3 more exams: 12/06, 13/06 & 15/06 so i will be a lil preoccupied for at least ten days <3 again, TYSM FOR READING IF YOU MADE IT THIS FAR!! <3 <3 also!! the two Loki requests are also currently being drafted as we speak!! thanks for waiting so long everyone!!

[geraltofriviacollection]

Chapter Eight

Paring: Geralt x Reader

Summary: Reader is thrown into the Witcher’s world. Will she survive? 

A/N: sorry that I haven’t posted anything in a while. I got a promotion at work and things have been crazy. Please enjoy this next chapter. I have not edited or proofread. Please do not repost, translate or copy my work without permission. Please leave comments! ❤️

The journey to The Temple of Melitele is a tense one. All of us are on edge for different reasons. Ciri because we wouldn’t let her kill herself. Geralt because he thinks Ciri is always hurling herself to deaths door and myself for well all of that and what’s coming next in this fucked story. The panic of what’s going to happen to Ciri comes crashing against me in waves. I know they are both picking up on my strange behavior.

Our first night away from the Witchers keep is oddly quiet. Once we have finished eating Ciri immediately settles into sleep. Something that I find out of character for her. Normally she is a chatter box full of questions, asking Geralt and I for stories. I walk over to the other side of the fire where Ciri has tucked herself into her palette.

“Are you alright? You’ve been rather quiet today.” I ask her softly as sit looking down at her young face.

“I’m fine.” She says not meeting my eyes. I narrowed my eyes at her before replying.

“Is this still about us not letting you become a Witcher?”

“No, This is about me not being able to make my own choices.” She explains finally looking at me.

“Ciri, I know why you want to sacrifice yourself so badly, but even after you will still have the guilt you feel at surviving what others did not. We want you to make your own choices. We also want you to make those choices for the right reasons.” I gently stoke back a loose piece of her hair before pressing a light kiss to her forehead. “Get some sleep.” I tell her before leaving her.

I walk back over to my spot on the other side of the fire. I stare at the flames so deeply I don’t notice geralt's return until he places a few larger sized logs he found on the fire. He comes and sits next to me while we both watch the warmth dancing in front of us.

“Is something going to happen?” Geralt ask breaking the silence. I look at him with shock and a questioning look. “I can tell now. You start behaving differently before.” He admits.

I feel that light ache as if warning me from saying too much. “Things have changed in ways that I didn’t expect and knowing but not knowing always sets me on edge.” I sigh, placing my head in my hands, rubbing my eyes with my palms. Geralt pulls my hand away from my face and I find myself staring into golden eyes that reminds me of the sun itself. He looks at me gently stroking the back of my hand with his thumb.

“ Most would have ran off by now but you are still here. Stop overthinking and underestimating your ability to handle whatever may come. You can’t let fear consume you. Ciri needs you….I need you.” He admits. His words bring heat to my cheeks.

The softness of how he looks at me makes my heart begin to pound in a new way. I swallow as my throat feels dry in the intimacy of this moment. My tongue darts out to wet my lips and his eyes dart down to catch the movement.

I take his advice and bring my lips to his before I can overthink it. My eyes close as I move my lips against his, it takes a second to realize he’s not kissing me back. As I start to pull away he places a on the back of my neck as his thumb strokes my lower jaw and he kisses me back. The kiss is full of emotion that I can’t place. His tongue darts out and licks the seam of my lips. I squeak in surprise. I feel him as he pulls away. His thumb lightly strokes over my swollen bottom lip. I open my eyes to see a strange expression on his face.

“What is it?” I ask, pulling his hand from my face.

“I may not be able to give you what you want.” He says looking down at our entwined hands. He stands and starts to pull away from me. The reasonable part knows I should let this go and never speak of this again especially because of what’s yet to come. I start to let him go but a voice whispers “He might not choose her.”

I grab him tighter, stopping him from pulling away from me. “I want you to give me what you can and I will do the same for you. Only what we can.” I emphasized,looking up at him. He pauses for what feels like a dozen beats of my heart. Then he turns back to me and looks back down at my hands before meeting my eyes.

“Only what we can.” He agrees before sitting back down next to me. Geralt grabs my hand again and we simply sit there staring into the fire.

The next day I’m consumed with the thoughts of Geralt's lips on mine and the ‘only what we can’ agreement will mean when we get to the temple. Even after Geralt's encouragement not to worry I can’t help but have some anxiety of what’s coming. The day has passed by with my being stuck in my own head. I have to force myself to tune in to the beginnings of an argument between the two of them.

“…..We were safe.” Ciri says. This is the first time I have head her speak since we left Kaer Morhen.

“The trial of grasses isn’t safe.” Geralt replies. I sigh already knowing where this conversation is going. It’s enough to make me want to throw myself off Roach just to not have to hear this argument again.

“Not Listening again.”

“You want to kill yourself trying to become a mutant so if you survive you can killl yourself trying to get revenge. Which part did I miss?” Geralt dully remarks. Ciri opens her mouth to reply, I cut her off.

“We are not starting this all over again. I feel like I can literally say what is coming next from each of you. You both make good points. I mean for goodness sakes both of you…”

Geralt pauses Roach and looks up at the trees. A small tingle runs down my spine. As the air becomes still. We continue forward reaching the lake.

“This is the shallowest part of the river. I’ll check that it’s safe to cross.”

“What do you mean safe?” Ciri ask

“I’ll try and draw it out first.” He says look out to the water.

“Draw what out?” Ciri frowns. If he could just give a little more detail on the front end I swear we could save hours worth of this.

“It’s some type of chernobog.” Geralt answers.

“I don’t know what that is.”Ciri Replies.

“I’m sure whatever the hell it is, it's not good.” I mutter under my breath. Geralt tells us to say where we are and he walks into the water. He’s only thigh deep when a monster with wings appears out of the sky. Ciri calls Geralt back as the beast nears. My heart starts pumping harder.

Geralt pushes the monster back with an invisible blow. It recovers before flying back, geralt tries to hit the beast again but only catches the foot. The thing screeches and makes a dive toward us. Geralt shouts for us to get down. I push ciri from the horse. She tumbles to the ground. I push off just as something catches the back of my right shoulder. I cry out as I finally hit the ground. Geralt shouts for us to run.

Ciri and I get up and run for cover as Geralt looks around for the monster. After a few moments Geralt motions us out from where we’re hiding. Ciri runs to roach , seeing her on the ground. The deep cuts on the end of her body from the monster. Ciri and Geralt both lean down to comfort her. I look away, tears forming in my eyes.

“Is there anything we can do?” Ciri ask. Geralt pulls a small knife. Ciri walks to me and places her head on my shoulder. I hear the sound of roach’s last breaths. I hum to ciri to cover over the sound of the knife cutting into Roach. Geralt stands, I pull gently away turning from Ciri and place a hand on Geralt's arm. He brings his large hand to cover mine.

“I think we might have a problem.” Ciri calls out a bit frantically.

“What is it?” I ask turning back to her. I grab her face turning it from side to side. Pull away and look over her. “Are you hurt?” I ask still inspecting her. She steps back from my hands and look behind me with wide eyes. I turn to Geralt. “What on earth is wrong?” I almost shout panic is rising in my throat.

“You’re injured.” He says walking up and turning me around.

“I don’t feel anything” I tell him to try to pull away.

“That’s either shock or adrenaline.” He places his hand on my right shoulder and I jolt away from him. The pain slams into me at his touch. “I think you got caught by the claws jumping from Roach.” He explains. I twitch in pain.

“Stand still.” He almost growls.

“Well now I can feel it and it hurts.” I say still squirming. He holds a firm hand on my neck and shoulder to stop me from moving as he places a bandage on it. “That will have to do for right now to slow down the bleeding.” He says tying the last knot I wince a bit. The monster screeches coming back for a second go around.

“It’s time.” Geralt says walking over to ciri. “Are you ready for this?” He asks, looking at her. Ciri nods her head saying yes and Geralt gives her instruction to go up on top of the rock. She looks at me and I nod encouragingly. She heads that way and Geralt turns back to me, pulling a small bottle from his pouch drinking the contents. The black webs form around his face and when his eyes open blackness. Has covered the golden hue I have found myself so fond of. “Stay here.” He says before stalking forward into the forest.

The beast spots Ciri from the rock and aims right for her diving down. I feel the warmth come and my skin begins to glow as the beast gets closer. I have a ball of light aimed and ready when Geralt appears from nowhere and slices through the best causing it to fall crashing to the ground. The forest shakes as the huge body lands.

We continue on our journey and my back stings in pain from the rake of the bog monster's claws. I’ve definitely slowed down the pace of the entire group. The Temple of Melitele finally comes into sight after hours of walking. I stumble as we pause to look. Geralt shoots me a look before walking over to me and placing a hand on my head then grunting. He turns me around my back facing him and I stand there looking at Ciri.

“You’re losing too much blood.” He says pulling the quickly made bandage away.

“Will she be alright?” Ciri calls out looking past me to Geralt as I hear something tear behind me and something presses against my wound. I grit my teeth at the feeling.

“I'll be fine. I’m sure the temple has talented healers that will fix me right up.” I reassure her. She comes and holds my hand in comfort. Geralt puts more pressure on my wounds I grunt. He holds it there for a minute until he begins tying things back in place. Once he finishes he moves in front of me and just stares.

“Can you make it the rest of the way?” He finally asked me. I nod my head, I start walking to prove how fine I am. Something happens behind me and I hear their footsteps join mine. A short time later Geralt scoops me into his arms.

“You can put me down. I’m fine.” I tell him quietly glancing over a Ciri who is strangely interested in the sky without clouds. I look back up at Geralt who just grunts and rolls his eyes.

“You’re slowing us down and I would like to reach the temple before night falls.” He says looking dead ahead. I start to open my mouth but he cuts me off. “This is me giving you what I can.” He leans down and whispers. My mouth closes and I settle back in his arms with pink cheeks.

@freegardenbanananeck @kas0417 @lillianacristina @mxtokko @wonderlandfandomkingdom @lovemesomuchhh @novaacanee

[kinaesthetiqueer]

The First Bite

At long, long, long last, here we are! The climax of her pulse in my throat's first arc! ID in alt text, as always. bonus behind the scenes and screaming under the cut.

some alt versions:

Y'ALL MIND IF I JUST SCREAM BECAUSE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

this is the point at which i knew i was doomed. this is the fucking scene that did me in. this is the one that made me go: ah fuck lads, it's goin in the wip folder

"because i think it would be funny" GIRL (GENDER NEUTRAL) IT'S TOO LATE YOU'RE DOOMED BY THE SIREN CALL OF THE AU

a day later i said "the brainworms are strong with this one. outline is 4k and ten chapters and counting"

four days later i started drawing this scene. pretty much immediately got side tracked by school though.

(the 10 hours was mostly the background, because i had forgotten foreshortening and perspective and had to relearn) but the first time i was off both work and school? slammed down caffeine and finished it.

anyways i've had this drawing done since late november of 2023, so i need you to understand how UNWELL i've been furiously writing to get to this point and i am SO fucking stoked. i've neither drawn nor written this much in years and i am having SO much fun. sjfdnsfjknsfj

thank you for enjoying this timeline of my descent into ssvau madness. :D see you in ch 21!

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 19 of ? | masterpost

word count: 3165 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

James, upon spotting us, shot up too, his long blond hair cascading over his shoulders. He was decked out for the gig, sporting his classic Venom t-shirt, leather jacket, and a bullet belt. A grin naturally spread across my face at the sight of him. Any disagreements and reservations I'd had over the past few months vanished in an instant. I couldn't help it; seeing him was like coming back home.

✦ summary: Nore finally reconnects with James, Cliff, and Lars on a chaotic but happy night in San Francisco.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, violence, drinking, harassment, blood

✧ when everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am ✧

I rolled up at Leanne's place on Saturday afternoon. The gig wasn't happening until way later, and the guys were neck-deep in pre-show preparations, so our meetup had to wait till nightfall. In the meantime, I had some catching up to do with my friend.

As soon as she spotted me, Leanne let out this excited little scream and bear-hugged me before I could even get off my motorcycle.

"Damn, Nore! It's been a hot minute! Look at you, girl! You look awesome!" She was talking a mile a minute, so hyped it cracked me up.

"Easy, easy! You're gonna flatten me like this."

"Easy? It's been forever since we kicked it. Can't believe you ran off with Dave and left me hanging."

"I did not!" I playfully nudged her arm, and we both laughed.

“So, you excited for tonight?” she asked as we strolled into her house. I dumped my backpack on the couch and plopped down to unlace my combat boots.

“A bit, yeah,” I replied, and she shot me an incredulous look. I let out a soft chuckle. “Okay, maybe more than a bit. Just not sure how it'll feel seeing everyone after so long.” 

“Don't sweat it, they'll be stoked to have you back.” 

“What about you? Seen Cliff yet?” 

“Nah, not yet.” She sighed. “They went straight to The Stone. Hey, had lunch yet?”

We had lunch together, then spent the rest of the afternoon catching up on news, half-watching some random flick Leanne had snagged from the video store, and munching on popcorn. As the sun dipped below the horizon, we changed into our outfits. Leanne gave me a hand with my makeup, lending me her crimson lipstick and midnight black eyeshadow. Even though I enjoyed putting on makeup sometimes, I was terrible at it; Leanne, on the other hand, was really good, her hands handling the brushes with the finesse of an artist, finishing me up in no time.

Once we were all set, we strolled over to The Stone. I couldn't believe the size of the crowd lining up outside the venue. Leanne grabbed my hand and led me to the back, where we exchanged nods with the security folks before slipping into the backstage area. A burly security guard guided us straight to the dressing room. He swung the door open, revealing James, busy tuning his guitar with a curly-haired guy. Lars sprang to his feet as we walked in, grinning when he saw us.

"Hey, look who's here!" he exclaimed, all smiles as he welcomed us.

James, upon spotting us, shot up too, his long blond hair cascading over his shoulders. He was decked out for the gig, sporting his classic Venom t-shirt, leather jacket, and a bullet belt. A grin naturally spread across my face at the sight of him. Any disagreements and reservations I'd had over the past few months vanished in an instant. I couldn't help it; seeing him was like coming back home.

"Hey," he said in a hushed tone, but before he could say much more, the dressing room door swung open once more, and in walked Cliff.

"Cliff!" Leanne cheered and darted over for a hug. He laughed, scooping her up and twirling her before planting a kiss on her lips. They exchanged soft words, and I couldn't help but grin at their reunion. James ambled my way.

"Hey, Jam... Oh!" I blurted out, blushing, when he pulled me into a tight hug.

"You chopped your hair," he observed, his voice hushed, lips brushing against my ear as he held me close. I gazed up, meeting his familiar blue eyes, and he flashed a warm smile. "I missed you."

"Missed you too," I whispered, unsure of how to react, feeling my cheeks warming up.

"Nore, you haven't met Kirk yet!" Lars interjected, excitedly. James promptly stepped back as Lars grabbed my hand. "Come on, I'll do the honors. Hey, Kirk!" he beckoned me over to where the other guy stood, and that's when it dawned on me – he was Dave's replacement. With his curly hair and friendly brown eyes, he had an endearing, shy smile when he spotted me. "Kirk, this is Nore, she's Cliff's cousin," Lars introduced me. "Nore, meet Kirk, our new guitarist."

"Hey," Kirk greeted.

"Hi," I smiled.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see Cliff.

"Hey, we better get going. The show starts in ten minutes. You guys can hang out by the side of the stage," he said, smiling at me.

"Right," Lars got up, all pumped, and grabbed his drumsticks. "We're all set, right? I just need a beer first."

James grabbed a beer and popped it open, handing it to Lars, who downed it in one gulp. He raised his eyebrows at the sight, and I laughed.

James, Lars, Kirk, and Lea exited the room, but Cliff stayed behind. He took hold of a strand of my hair.

"Good to see you again, Nore," he murmured, then pulled me into a hug. I smiled, burying my face in his chest. It was so great to be back there, despite everything.

"I missed you, Cliff," I replied softly.

The gig didn't take long to kick off. As soon as the guys hit the stage, I spotted the whole crowd, all settled in and hyped up. I grabbed a beer and found a spot next to Leanne right at the edge of the tiny stage as they kicked off the show. A grin spread across my face, the excitement bubbling up as the music filled the air. Man, it felt great to be back. All the crap from the past few months just vanished in that moment; right there, I felt alive.

"We're back, San Francisco!" James hollered, grinning from ear to ear after their first song. He shot me a look from the corner of his eye, a playful smile dancing on his lips before he added, "We missed you. We're gonna tear it up tonight, yeah?"

I was kinda surprised by how much more confident he was up there on stage, how they all seemed to be in sync. I remembered a shy James, struggling to talk to the audience, but the guy I was watching now was just brimming with energy and confidence. It was hard to take my eyes off him.

Once the gig was over and we'd packed up the gear, we decided to hit a bar for some drinks. The night was beautiful, and we were all in high spirits, not ready to call it quits just yet. We ended up at this joint near The Stone, snagged a table, and I wound up sitting between Leanne and James. We were all having a good laugh while Lars attempted to explain some Danish joke to Kirk and Cliff, who were cracking up at his explanation.

“I gotta hit the restroom," I chuckled, getting up. It hit me that I was a bit more buzzed than I thought; I almost stumbled over my own two feet, but James caught my arm before I took a tumble. 

"You alright? Need some backup?" he asked, his expression a mix of concern and amusement. 

"Nah, I'm good."

After my pit stop in the restroom, I splashed some water on my face, attempting to sober up a bit. I was heading back to our table when out of nowhere, a tall, strong man grabbed my arm.

"Hey there, gorgeous. Weren't you at the show earlier today?" he slurred, clearly more hammered than I was, and that was saying something. I had no idea who this guy was, and I had no interest in finding out. I tried to shake my arm free, but he had an iron grip. 

"Back off, man." 

"Are you dating one of those guys? I bet not. You must be some groupie. Why don't you come with me..." 

"Hey!" somebody shouted. I let out a startled yelp as James, appearing out of thin air it seemed, forcefully shoved the guy, forcing him to release my arm. "Find someone your own size, moron."

"James!" I yelled, taken aback, as the guy swiftly turned, snatching up a nearby beer bottle and smashing it over James' head. James staggered, his blue eyes flashing with anger and shock. I acted on instinct; with him releasing my arm, I balled my hand into a fist and aimed a punch right at his nose. "Ow!" I exclaimed, surprised that my hand hurt more than his face did. He stared at me, clearly stunned. But that split second of distraction was all James needed. He quickly recovered, clenched his fist, and delivered a punch of his own to the guy's face, sending him stumbling backward, almost on the verge of falling.

James grabbed him by the collar, his jaw set and blood trickling from the cuts on his forehead caused by the glass. I'd witnessed my fair share of fights, especially back when Dave was in the band – they were almost routine, often among the boys themselves. But I'd never seen James being so aggressive before. Now, though, he seemed genuinely furious.

"You better scram," James growled, his voice low and menacing. The guy raised his hands in surrender, avoiding eye contact, and promptly bolted when James released him. James kept an eye on him as he walked away, his brow furrowed.

"Hey, are you guys all right?" I heard a concerned voice, and when I looked up, I saw Cliff, his face filled with genuine worry, sizing up the situation. He wasn't alone in his concern; half the bar seemed to be watching us, including Kirk, Lars, and Leanne.

"It's all good," James grunted, still looking pissed. "This creep was giving Nore a hard time, but I sorted it out."

"Dude, you're bleeding," Cliff remarked, and James arched an eyebrow, touching his forehead and only just then seeming to notice the blood. Cliff turned to me, noticing my slightly dazed look, while my hand, the one I'd used to punch the guy, was throbbing with pain. "You guys look pretty roughed up. Maybe you should head back. Leanne's got a first aid kit at her place, I can come along if you want."

"I'm good," James grumbled, then turned to me. "Nore, you all right?"

"Yeah, I think so," I muttered, slowly. "But Cliff's got a point, James. You're bleeding; we should clean that up."

"It's not a big deal."

"I think we should head home," I said, a bit more assertive. "I won't let you stay with your head cracked open on my account."

He shrugged, but I could swear I spotted a little grin on his lips.

"Fine, fine."

"I'll grab Leanne's keys," Cliff chimed in, stepping off and returning quickly with her house keys. "We'll square the tab and take Lars and Kirk home, then we'll follow you guys home too. Cool?" He shot me a concerned look. "Take care, both of you."

The walk to Leanne's house was dead quiet. James, still looking pissed off, and me, getting more sober and concerned about him by the minute. His wounds seemed to have stopped bleeding, but he still had dried blood staining his hair and on his forehead. I just wanted to reach home fast to check how messed up he really was, and I was feeling pretty crappy about him getting hurt on my account.

"Fucking idiot," James grumbled, still wearing an annoyed expression. "That guy was a total jerk. Can’t believe he tried to fucking mess with you."

"James, it's alright. Seriously, I’m okay," I replied, stopping on the sidewalk as we waited for the traffic light to change.

"I should've punched him a few more times. If Dave were here, bet he'd have sent him straight to the ER," he grumbled, and I gave him a surprised look.

"You miss him," I realized. James snorted, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

"It's just... we were something else," he said softly as we kept walking. "Not just in the band. And now... everything's different. Gone."

I smiled slightly, a sad smile that conveyed everything I couldn't say; that I understood perfectly how he was feeling. I missed everything from the time when we all lived together – a whirlwind that swept through my life and changed it forever.

We finally made it to Leanne's place. I swung the door open, and James trailed into the kitchen. He plopped down at the table, and I grabbed a glass, filling it with water and handing it over.

"Drink up," I commanded, standing beside him as he obediently took sips. I watched him, still a little tipsy myself, absentmindedly running my fingers through his blond locks. "I'll fetch the first aid kit. You just chill here. And, for heaven's sake, try not to bleed all over the place."

"I keep telling you I'm alright," he grumbled, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

"You've got a forehead full of blood. You planning on making modern art with it?" I quipped. He chuckled. "I'll be back in a sec."

When I returned to the kitchen, he'd ditched his jacket, shoes, and belt in a messy heap on the floor, raiding Leanne's fridge for something. It was a different side of him, almost smaller, less like the stage presence he was learning to master, more like the boy who'd always been my friend. I leaned against the door frame, a faint smile tugging at my lips.

"I told you to wait quietly, didn't I?" I teased, raising an eyebrow. "You're gonna start bleeding all over again like this."

"It's not that bad," he said, shutting the fridge while munching on something. He plopped back into the chair beside the table, grinning when he noticed the disapproval in my gaze. His hand rested on my hip, the rough palm brushing against the skin beneath my shirt, drawing me in gently. "Sorry," he apologized, softly, a small smile playing on his lips.

"How can you smile when your forehead's split like that?" I muttered. We were close, closer than we'd ever be if we were sober, but the amount of beer I'd downed made me care a whole lot less about that.

"I told you it's not that bad," he responded but winced when I started dabbing the cuts with a piece of cotton. He had a point, though; the cuts weren't too deep, except for one near his hairline.

"This one's a bit gnarly. It might leave a scar."

"That's metal," he smirked.

"Oh, please," I gently pressed the cotton against the wound, and he winced. "My bad."

"It's alright," he said, giving my hip a light squeeze to reassure me. I applied a band-aid to the larger cut and stepped back a bit, gazing into his blue eyes.

"Please, never pull a stunt like that again."

"How about a little gratitude?" he raised an eyebrow, sporting a laid-back smile. I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

"Thanks. But seriously, please don’t ever hurt yourself for me again. Promise."

"If I do, will you be my nurse again?" he chuckled softly, holding my hand in his. My knuckles were still a bit sore, and upon closer inspection, I noticed they were a bit swollen. He tenderly massaged them. " I had no idea you knew how to throw a punch like that.”

"Dave taught me," I revealed, and he burst into hearty laughter.

"Yeah, sounds like him alright." He gazed into my eyes, our matching shades of blue meeting. "I missed you, Nore."

“I missed you too,” I admitted, our eyes locked in a moment of uncertainty about what to say next. Maybe there wasn't much to say in this moment, but the warmth of his hand in mine and how close we were brought back memories of that night months ago when he called me, his voice filled with pain, longing, and desire. I knew I couldn't ignore it any longer; I needed to address this. “James…”

I jumped when the door swung open, and James quickly released my hand. I shifted my gaze away from him as Cliff and Leanne entered the kitchen.

“You guys alright?” Lea inquired as she stepped into the kitchen, her expression one of relief as she looked at James and saw that his injuries were relatively minor. “Oh, good, it wasn't too bad. I thought you'd need stitches when I saw that guy smashing the bottle on your head.”

"I’m alright. Thanks to Nore," he flashed me a smile, and I couldn't help blushing. Lea glanced between James and me, clearly intrigued. Before she could pry, Cliff piped up, lighting a joint.

"Hey, I'm not feeling the bedtime vibe just yet. How 'bout we order some pizza and blaze a bit?"

"I'm all in," James chimed in, enthusiasm in his voice as he got to his feet. "Oh, right! We haven't dished out Nore's presents yet."

"Presents?" I raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious.

"Your birthday happened while we were on the road, didn't it?" Cliff asked with a grin. "I'll grab 'em from the car. Hold tight."

He came back shortly with two packages, which he handed to me.

"The big one is mine, open it first. The other one is from all of us," Cliff said, and I chuckled, excited. I tore open the first package and smiled when I revealed a studded leather jacket, so new it almost shimmered.

"Damn, Cliff! I love it," I smiled, and he smiled back, genuinely pleased with my reaction. I picked up the other package, a square one that was definitely a vinyl record, and looked up to find Cliff and James' expectant gazes. "Is this what I think it is?" I asked.

"Open it up," James smiled, and I quickly did.

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed, excited, when I opened the package and saw the brand new vinyl record. On the cover, the shadow of a hand over a hammer thrown into a puddle of blood perfectly reflected the album's name: Kill 'em All. The album was there, ready, brand new. I couldn't wait to listen to it. "Oh, guys, this is so fucking cool!" I exclaimed, and James laughed. "Thank you, really."

"Couldn't make it for your birthday, but I'm damn glad we're all back together," Cliff said, a slight grin on his face. I couldn't help but grin back because, despite the earlier mess, that night had been one of the best in a long while.

After that show, I knew I couldn't keep my distance from them any longer, no matter what. It had been pretty foolish of me to even try, because truth be told, I didn't wanna be away from friends who made me feel so happy. I realized their presence and friendship in my life meant more than I'd ever thought. 

That it had changed me, more than I ever knew. 

And I was happy.

[vaya-writes]

Serving the Serpent - 8

Briar owes Lord Isen her life. She works off her debt by serving in his castle. Dealing with the rapidly changing circumstances of her life, she’s not used to anyone paying her much attention. It’s hard when Isen seems set on interacting with her. 

Cis female human with selective mutism x male naga (slow burn, co-workers to lovers, power imbalances, eventual smut). 3200 words. Content warnings for this chapter include allusions to Briar’s cult-like upbringing, brief discussion of grief, some explicit details about Isen's shitty childhood and emotional abuse from his father, discussion of burnout and burnout related illness. Divider from firefly-graphics

The preparation before Briar and Isen tour the Ophidian Lowlands. The pair have some important discussions about work/life balance.

Previous - Masterlist

Isen puts Briar in charge of packing for his trip. Without another servant around giving her explicit instructions, it’s her first independent task as Isen’s aide. There’s not much she can do to mess it up, but she still checks and double checks each of the times on her list. And then sets aside the assembled items for Isen’s approval. It’s not a large task – she's only in charge of organising his clothes and toiletries.  

Surveying the assortment on the table, it occurs to her that she doesn’t know what she’s expected to bring. She clears her throat to get Isen’s attention. 

He’s nose deep in a ledger Dinah had delivered, some business proposal or another. He hums his acknowledgement, eyes flitting up for a second. 

‘What do I pack for myself?’ 

He looks back to his book with a shrug. “A change of clothes. Your coin.” He looks sharply at her, for emphasis. “Wet weather wear.” 

She gestures to her uniform. ‘Is this okay?’ 

He looks her up and down. “You still wear the servant’s garb?” 

She raises her brow. ‘Am I not a servant?’ (Worker. Work person.) 

“No, actually. As my assistant, your station is significantly higher. I’ll put in a request with Lockwood to find you a more appropriate uniform. It’s not necessary that you wear it, but until you have your own clothes-” he trails off. “Sorry I hadn’t done so sooner. I hadn’t paid much attention to your state of dress.” 

It doesn’t bother her. Still, she gives him a stiff little bow. ‘Thank you.’ 

With her task complete, Briar finishes her tidying for the night. Their dinner trays are removed, the fire is stoked, and the bed is turned down. Afterwards, she lingers by the desk. 

‘Is there anything else for me, tonight?’  

It’d be typical for Isen to give her some paperwork to proofread. Instead, he gives her a frown. 

She can’t help but tense, wondering what she’d done wrong. 

“Nothing that needs doing.” 

The way he stares tells her there’s something more.  

He takes a moment to voice his thoughts. “Have you made any friends yet, Legs?” 

She blinks. Straightens. ‘Friends?’ 

His intensity softens, and he gives her an almost bemused smile. “You know. People you spend time with. People you like.” 

Briar considers. It’s not the right answer, but it’s her only answer. ‘I spend time with you. And with Lockwood.’ (Lock, Wood) 

His smile becomes more strained. “What about outside of work?” 

The almost pitying expression makes her bristle. ‘I don’t need friends. I’ve never needed them.’ 

There’s a silence, and Briar wonders if she’d been too sharp with him.  

“What about hobbies. Do you have any of those?” 

Briar tries not to pull a face. She doesn’t understand the question, but can’t help but feel like she’s being judged. ‘What is... what is that?’ 

“A hobby?” 

Nod. 

“Something you do for fun? Or because you otherwise enjoy it?” His smile has faded. 

She tries not to fidget under his intense stare. ‘I... practice my lessons? I enjoy... my food. And my bed.’ (Bed. Place of sleep.) 

Isen is pulling a face like he’s sucked on a lemon and is trying very hard not to show it. “Okay. Is that all?” 

Briar gives him a weak smile.  

There’s another silence before Isen lets out a breath, and his smile disappears entirely. ‘Briar,’ he signs for emphasis, before speaking the rest of his concern. “I don’t suppose anyone has ever spoken to you about your work/life balance?” 

She shakes her head. It’s starting to look more and more like she is in trouble. ‘I don’t know what that is.’ 

Isen winces. “Yeah, I figured. Look, if you ever want to take some time off, you can. You just need to go to Lockwood and organise it. He’ll make sure you still get paid. He’s also who you talk to if you need a sick day.” 

His words sound familiar. It reminds her of something the dark elf himself had said on her first day here. She hadn’t quite believed him. Hadn’t paid attention to his words. At the time she’d been more focused on the change in her situation; her newly acquired debt.  

Still, the seriousness of Isen’s tone makes her blanch. She can’t help but feel defensive. ‘I don’t need to take time off.’ 

Isen reaches across the table. He catches her by the hand, and she’s so surprised that she lets him hold it. 

“But don’t you want to?” 

She pulls back, shaking her head. ‘We didn’t do that at New Haven.’ 

He leans forward, intense again. “Yes. But didn’t you want to?” 

Helplessly, Briar shakes her head, dropping her eyes. 

“Really. You can’t think of a single time where you wanted to stay in bed. When you didn’t want to cook or clean, or do things for everyone else. When you just wanted to be alone for the day.” 

There’s a shadow creeping up in her mind. A memory of grief, of pain. She’s swift to shut it down, to scowl at Isen. ‘I don’t want to talk about this anymore.’ 

He pauses. Straightens. She hadn’t noticed how close he’d been leaning. “Okay. I just... okay.” 

The silence now is less intense. More awkward.  

Isen gestures to his shelf. “I don’t have anything else for you to do tonight. But you’re welcome look at my books. Help yourself to my collection. There’re a few shelves in the third-floor lounge, too.” 

Briar wants to turn him down immediately. But she makes herself be polite. Forces a smile, and shakes her head. ‘I’m tired. I think I’ll sleep.’ 

His expression is gentle once more. “Alright. But the offer still holds. Any time, Legs. Have a browse. Maybe you’ll find something you like.”  

--- 

Briar is tight with tension the next day. She trusts that Isen won’t push most of her boundaries. That if she draws a line in the sand, he’ll be respectful about it. Still, she can’t help but wait for some form of retribution. Some punishment for refusing to talk to him. An expression of displeasure that she’d left early. 

It doesn’t help that he’s distracted. Contemplative, even, when he looks at her from time to time. He smiles and thanks her for her work, but doesn’t ask to dine together. He doesn’t prod for conversation, or make any of his usual jokes.  

She’s torn between relief and anxiety. Enough so that Lockwood cuts her lesson short. She’s unfocused. Making needless mistakes. He dismisses her, tells her to clear her head. 

She doesn’t. She takes up her lessons in her room instead, until it’s time to tend to Isen once more. She serves his dinner, and this time he invites Briar to dine with him. The meal is uncharacteristically silent, until Isen sits back, finished eating, to examine Briar. 

The food suddenly tastes like ash, and she has to fight not to fidget. 

Finally, she works up the nerve to look him in the eye. ‘Yes?’ 

Isen looks away. Works his jaw while he resolves to speak. 

“My father had high expectations of me, when I was a child.” 

She can’t help but straighten. 

“Starlen was... a hands-on learner. He wasn’t the academic type, so he was pushed into soldiering. Kylet was... well Kylet was Kylet. But Zyla and I were... talented, I guess you could say. Bright. Skilled. Enough so that my father decided he had to hone our abilities. 

“We were tutored every day. By the time I was six, I could recite world history, play three instruments, speak five languages. By the time I was twelve, I was observing council meetings, doing assignments on trade and commerce, intimately familiar with Isle law. 

“I worked until I was sick. And then I kept working. In an unending effort to impress my father, to outdo my sister, to do my duty as a Kovit...” Isen swallows. “She might be my biggest rival, but she also saved me. Zyla got me out. Persuaded father into sending me away. Into giving me a territory to rule. 

“I... I probably spent a year in bed. I don’t like to think about it. To talk about it. But suffice to say, I’m very familiar with the effects of burnout. I know what it’s like to be raised... like that. To be told that you aren’t allowed to take a break, you don’t need it, don’t deserve it, that wanting it is a luxury you can’t afford-” he cuts off. Takes a breath and lets it out slowly. 

“I want to apologise for lecturing you about your work/life balance. When you’re brought up in an environment like that... I can empathise, that you might be dissuaded by the thought of taking time for yourself.” 

He peters into silence. His face is drawn, almost pained. 

Briar shifts, uncomfortable. Even she can recognise that Isen had just shared something incredibly personal. How is she meant to react to that? 

Staring down at her dinner, she lets out a long sigh. She supposes there is only one thing she can do. 

‘I wanted to stay in bed.’ 

Isen refocuses, watching her carefully. 

‘The day my Aunt died. I wanted- I wanted to be alone.’ 

She hasn’t taught Isen the word for death, but he understands. “I’m sorry for your loss.” 

She shrugs. Nods. Stands and collects his tray. She doesn’t want to talk about it. Will probably never want to. But it’s all she has to give, really. Those pieces of herself that she’d never shared. If Isen can share his truth with her, she figures she can do the same back. If only the once. 

---

She’s worried that things will change. That there’ll be a sombre air over their meetings, or that she’d be expected to share more. But Isen is back to his usual self the next morning. In fact he’s giddy with excitement, already awake and dressed when Briar arrives. 

“Guess what Lockwood delivered this morning.” 

She turns away before he can see her nose crinkle. It’s too early for games.  

‘Paperwork.’ 

Isen grimaces. “Okay, yes, but guess what else.” 

She focuses instead on making his bed, quirking her brow in question. 

He rolls his eyes. “Fine, be a buzzkill. Your clothes are here.” 

Her attention does catch at that. 

‘So soon?’ 

Isen lets out a noncommittal hum, suddenly very interested in the package on his desk. 

Taking the hint, she approaches. He pushes the bundle towards her, twirling a strand of his hair while she unties it. She’d scoff if he weren’t her superior– she doesn’t know if she’s seen him look nervous before. 

Before she unfolds the fabric, he sticks his hand over it. “Okay, well, this is what Lockwood could get on short notice. He had two days to come up with this. That’s no time to get something imported or made. I apologise in advance for the quality. I just wanted to make sure you had something to wear on our tour. Yes?” 

Briar looks at Isen, brow raised again. ‘Yes.’ 

Looking unconvinced of himself, Isen withdraws his hand. Gestures that she continue.  

Briar stares at Isen as she does, for once enjoying the way he squirms. She barely glances at the outfit she unfolds, overtly enjoying his embarrassment.  

“Stop,” he turns his face away. “You’re not funny.” 

‘That doesn’t stop you,’ she says. 

He doesn’t react to her jab, but she still stiffens. Looks down sharply, eyes wide, in realisation that she’d just insulted her boss aloud. 

There’s a long silence. Eventually Isen breaks it, sounding almost breathless. “Don’t keep me in suspense. What do you think?” 

She blinks. He hadn’t even registered her retort. Was focused instead on the outfit she’d been staring unseeing at. 

She grasps the shirt by the shoulders, holding it up to the light. It’s a collared button up, starched and stiff, but neat. Beneath it sits a pair of trousers, which Briar regards with suspicion. She picks up the trousers, testing the stiff fabric, lifting them to check their length. 

Isen is staring, an air of forced neutrality belaying his anxiety. He raises his brow when Briar meets his gaze.  

‘I’ve never worn trousers before.’ (Trousers. Legs. This.) 

He blinks. “Never?” 

She shakes her head. 

He frowns. “If the clothes aren’t suitable, we can find something else.” 

Briar eyes the outfit wearily. The Pilgrims had a thing about modesty, and revealing the shape of one’s legs would definitely be toing the line. While Briar personally doesn’t see an issue with pants, the idea of wearing them still makes her uncomfortable.  

Isen takes her silence for disapproval, “I’ll let Lockwood know immediately. We should still have time to get you something else-” 

She shakes her head. ‘Wait.’ 

He does. 

She takes another minute to process. Struggles to identify the source of that discomfort.  

And then, ‘I’m allowed to wear these?’ 

“You’re allowed to,” he deciphers, before, “Oh. Yes. You’re allowed to wear them.” 

She nods. Cautious, but open. ‘I won’t get in trouble?’ 

Understanding lights in Isen’s eyes. But he doesn’t comment on the revelation. Instead, he gives Briar a soft smile. “No. You won’t get in trouble.” 

She can’t help but frown. “Do you promise?” (Promise. Agree. Ensure.) 

“Yes. I promise.” 

Briar lets out a sigh. Pulls the clothes closer to her. Despite Isen’s assurances, she’s still not sold. ‘Will people stare?’ 

He keeps his soothing tone. “If they stare, it won’t be because of your pants. It will be because you’re human. Or because you’re with me. Okay?” 

She dithers some more. There’s not much left to consider, if she’s being honest. She just needs time to persuade herself to accept them. To become more used to the idea.  

She nods. ‘Okay.’ 

His face splits into a wider smile. “Yes?” 

She rolls her eyes at his enthusiasm. ‘Yes.’ 

"Excellent,” Isen leans back. “We’ve placed an order with the tailor to make you more uniforms. They won’t arrive for another week or so, but I’m looking forward to showing you the different styles we’re having made.” 

She looks over the outfit again. Isen had made it seem like any outfit procured on short notice would be terrible. Perhaps they aren't very stylish. And the fabric will be dry and scratchy against her skin; heavy even. But they’re still undoubtedly the nicest clothes Briar has owned. The cloth is tightly spun. The fabric is sturdy. The colouring is even. They look nice. Professional. She wonders if that’s why they’d been chosen for her. 

“Now that that’s done with, Arol is coming by soon. He wants to discuss the route we’re taking.” His demeanour shifts, “Even if it’s the same one we take every year...” He brightens after a second. “Do you have a moment?” 

She hadn’t served breakfast yet, but if Isen wants to delay, it’s within his right. She shrugs in reply. 

He gestures her closer to the desk, circling it to stand next to her, spinning some parchment around for her to see. “Has Lockwood taught you to read a map yet?” 

Briar shakes her head, shifting away minutely.  

Isen gives her a smile. “The larger labels on the map tend to represent larger things. Like this one,” he points to the header. “It’s not over any piece of the map, so you can assume it’s the name of the whole area.” 

Briar squints at the title, sounding out the letters silently, before widening her eyes. ‘Ophidian Lowlands?’ (snake and lizard, low land, here?) 

He nods. “Sure is. And dots tend to represent settlements.” 

There are five on the map. One is larger than the rest. Once again Briar takes her time sounding out the word. She smiles at the revelation. ‘Riversreach.’ (River, reach, here) 

“Yes. Well done. Do you understand the rest of what you’re looking at?” 

Briar eyes the swirls and lines of ink doubtfully. She shakes her head. 

Isen gives her a patient smile. He points to a star in one corner of the map. “This is a compass. It tells us which way is north.” 

It takes her a moment before she nods her understanding. There weren’t many compasses in New Haven. People never travelled far. But knowing cardinal direction had also taught her which way to expect the sun to rise and set. 

“And this,” he moves close, brushing her arm as he reaches across her to point at the other corner of the map, “is not part of the landscape either.” 

She stiffens at his proximity. Has to resist the urge to shuffle away. 

“It’s called a key. Or a legend. Not all maps have them, but they explain what the other symbols on the map mean.” He stops reaching across, the offending arm instead coming to rest lightly against her back. 

She has to fight to pay attention, his words fading into the background as she fixates on his touch, frozen and unsure how she is supposed to respond. 

“Usually, they tell the difference between roads, boarders, water ways, and so on, but we don’t have many of those in the Lowlands. This one focuses on terrain.” 

Briar stares blankly, expecting the touch to become harder, or creep along her skin. But his hand stays gently at her back. 

“- marsh, forest, cliffs, river,” 

Nothing happens. He doesn't try to flirt or do anything inappropriate. Perhaps not to his standards anyway.  

Briar swallows, refocusing her attention on the map, trying to process his words. Key. Terrain. Hands. 

She scowls at herself, trying not to let her thoughts wander. She doesn’t even notice how flushed she’s becoming. 

Finally, Isen straightens, his touch leaving her as he falls into silence. “And there you have it. Any questions?” 

Briar stares at the map, long and hard, rushing to process what’s in front of her, to come up with any potential questions.  

The only one that does come to her is not very useful. It’s probably inappropriate to ask her boss ‘Hey, what the fuck was that?’ 

She shakes her head. 

Isen smiles and moves back around to his side of the desk. “Excellent. Shall I show you our planned route for the tour?” 

She’s grateful for the space, if a little surprised at the sudden cold that comes with the distance.  

Briar forces her attention towards the path that Isen traces across the map, his fingers stopping at the other settlements. He’s gentle, taking care not to mark the map. She wonders how it’d feel if he traced the same patterns across her back. Or over her hand. 

She scowls, wondering if there’s something wrong with her. She’d never had the desire to be touched before. Why on earth was she experiencing it now? 

“Are you okay? Am I going too fast?” 

Yes! she thinks, before realising he’s talking about the map again.  

She glances up at Isen, trying to keep the guilt from her features. ‘Sorry. I was distracted.’ 

He smiles. “It’s okay. We can go over it again.” 

‘Thank you.’ She takes a breath, grateful for his patience. ‘You said we’ll go North?’ 

Isen turns his attention back to the map. “That’s right. We’ll need to leave early enough to catch the tide-” 

She absorbs more of the information this time. Even if she still finds herself distracted. 

Next

[iheartgod175]

Some MORE Thoughts…

—I’ve actually had the hankering to do some art again after like a month, haha ^^ Taking a month hiatus from creating to refill my creative well has done me some wonders, because now I feel a lot more inspired and ready to write and draw!

—An idea that I’ve had for the last couple of days was including Dragon Tales into SRBA. My childhood lives! I love how at this point, the remastered SRBA is kinda becoming the MCU, lol—after all, I kinda have it set that the Super Readers would meet WordGirl and the characters from Santiago of the Seas, so why the heck not XD That means I’m gonna have to go back and fix the timeline again to include this.

—And in case anybody was wondering what other shows would be featured in this AU, it’s currently Santiago of the Seas, WordGirl, Dragon Tales and (possibly) Arthur. The later I put in brackets because I’m not sure how it’d work yet ^^;

—I am still working on that KonoSuba/Star Fox story, but most of it is just brainstorming fifty million ideas. I do have some cool ideas for a potential sequel starring either Slippy or Beltino. Why? Well, I wanted to challenge myself writing a character that I eventually grew to appreciate—as I wrote in the original post, Fox and Falco would fit in with KonoSuba perfectly, but it’s too obvious a choice. Putting in a happy-go-lucky mechanic with no sense of flying in a world like KonoSuba’s would be hilarious—or a mild-mannered scientist like Beltino. All I know is that either one of them would end up in Kazuma’s party, and Slippy and Aqua would butt heads because of her hatred for toads, LOL.

—2024 is not being kind to Love Livers thus far. I still think the whole “Love Live disappears but Revue Starlight is eternal” meme compilation is hilarious, though. Power creep and insane rates will not stop this game, I swear. Oh, and speaking of Revue Starlight, it’s been loving me again?? I’ve had better luck getting the 5-stars recently than I have had getting the birthday cards the last few years?! Which is good news for me, because my Wind, Moon and Space teams SUCK and I needed some better cards in order to prep for both Star Arena matches and future Trophy Roads.

—Kinda hopped back onto my Multo/Zeeter mood again, so I’ve been working on Love Language in between working on that StarFox/KonoSuba idea. I’m trying out a new writing routine, and hopefully, I can finish the first chapter sometime this year!

—Speaking of them, I was rereading my notes for that Revue Starlight inspired AU and I need to write out a post yelling about that. I literally have like six to seven pages of notes!

—Started Atelier Resleriana and it’s kinda cute! I’ve heard of the Atelier series, but never got a chance to play any of the games. But I’m liking it so far.

—Racing to get to the next few chapters of HI3rd. I’m kinda stoked for Part 2!

—And since I also got hit with the mood for it a few days ago, I’m going to be doing some in-depth notes about the Cerulean Avenger story, namely regarding the characters and what all to expect. The reason for that? It relates to the art I’m going to drop after making this post! 😁

[smilesrobotlover]

Sorry about the lonely hours. Don’t worry, I get that too. But I’m here to help kick its butt and tell you that I’m always here for chats :D

So how’s creating going?

Thanks for comin!

Creating is going pretty good? I finished the 5th chapter for love at twilight, but idk how I feel about it. The writing seems pretty clunky and boring but I struggled to read it anyways so I guess I’ll see on the 11th. There’s a good chance that I’ve read it so many times that it’s boring so, we’ll see! I’m excited to continue on with this story tho!! We’re getting to some good stuff :)))

Started working on the curse of demise which I’m stoked about! Introducing a character that I’ve been DYING to introduce! But ye! It’ll just take a while. Lbl is also taking a while, comics are a lot of work unfortunately.

Strangers across eras has been fun! I haven’t been writing it but the drawings I did today was a lot of fun! I kinda want this story to just be random adventures here in there. Yeah there’s an overarching plot but they’re all just kinda vibing! Idk, it’ll be fun. But I love this au so much the dads are my beloved

[bromcommie]

Hello & Happy Monday!

So...for the WIP tag game...I know I'm supposed to pick the one (1! ONE!) that I find most intriguing, but this is like a whole buffet of intrigue, so maybe I can have two? 👀 1) НОЧНОЙ РАЗГОВОР (FIGURE OUT) <- ngl, the 'figure out' cracked me up. Also, late night conversations? Yes, please!

2) what's a nice nutcase like you doing in a place like astoria 1203 <- this just sounds fun...and possibly like the title could be deliberately misleading

Thank you! <3

Hello helloo, happy Monday to you too! (but also Tuesday now I guess. It's a 2-for-1!)

Thank you for the ask, and thank you for indulging me with two (2! it's gonna be so long!) <3

НОЧНОЙ РАЗГОВОР (FIGURE OUT!!!) - Ooof, this fucking guy. I'm glad my stern instructions to myself in the title there were funny, because I do indeed need to FIGURE this one OUT and it's bugging me. It's essentially another chapter that's a part of a larger work (not naming names not pointing fingers but it's. The Work I'm Having Trouble Updating) and it was written a looong while back, which is why it's now a standalone file. I love the premise but I kinda want to tear it down and rebuild it entirely, mostly because I'm still deciding on whether I like the way I wrote the backstory for it. So. It's fun! It's challenging! It's giving me a migraine! The title's from this song about a tired traveler trying to find his way in the night. It's three conversations (Steve+Nat, Nat+Bucky and Bucky+Steve - although they barely talk at all) that happen in the night after a very not lucid, injured Don't-Call-Me-Bucky who's recently remembered the Red Room and also had a pretty rattling encounter with the code words seeks Natasha out in Europe for [redacted] something as a last resort, but instead accidentally walks straight into Steve who he's been staying away from like the Devil Himself since CATWS. And then basically bleeds all over him. (I am not immune to the wound care trope! However, this is unfortunately not that.) A lot of ugly feelings and defense mechanisms are brought up, some painful memories re: the war and the Red Room are brought up, and nobody's having a good time or really knows how to process jack shit. They all communicate/perceive love&protection in wildly different ways, and while all three dynamics end on some kind of natural conclusion it's still a lot of unfinished, unspoken business and just kind of sad. Hurt no comfort that's necessary for there to be the promise of comfort in the future, if you will. Tbh, I really want to finish/reincorporate this one. But it's just so *screams into paper bag*. Anyway. Snippet:

When Steve wakes up the next morning Bucky’s gone, like he knew he would be. Like a hurricane passing through, the foreknowledge doesn’t make the aftermath any easier. And then what? his own voice from so long ago echoes in his head as he waits for the water for Natasha’s tea to boil in the sunny little kitchenette of the motel’s lobby. 16 hours later, he’s watching the blinding stripe of the sun setting over the East River before the plane maneuvers onto the landing strip at JFK. The hell else? Then we march on, ace. We go home.

2. what's a nice nutcase like you doing in a place like astoria 1203 - oh good, thank god! So this one is a bit more fun, but it's only got a few disjointed half-scenes so far. The title is actually one of the most literal ones on the list - the fic does take place in Astoria, Queens, and it does involves a certain "nutcase". Several, even. They really don't get along, and then they almost do.

(Blame my recent rewatch of the Netflix shows for this one. Man. What a golden age that was.)

Excerpt under the cut:

It was easy to clock the combat training before, sure, but up close this guy’s… Keyed up. Wild-eyed, a little, and not in the twitchy way of the three idiots piled up outside by the ruined water hydrant, not just sheer adrenaline stoked by fear and booze and coke. More dialed-in, purposefully ruthless. Hungry. Getting up with an expression like an enraged bull in spite of the beating he just took. Nutcase, Barnes thinks bleakly. Not that he’s in any position to judge — glass houses, all that, but — “What’re you,” he croaks, “some kind of psycho?” “Says the guy who just mowed down six guys without blinking." The man spits, grimacing at the blood that lands on the stark white of the rooftop like it personally offends him. If he notices the similar spray across his busted face, his clothes, his military-short hair, he doesn't seem to give a damn. "Nice going, by the way— my man got away." "And my man's bleeding out on a fucking pool table downstairs," he grits out. He doesn't have time for this. This whole night has been one giant exercise in unpredictability, and the police sirens echoing off in the distance are problem enough without him having to duke it out over and over with some local homicidal moron who might or might not be HYDRA. "You wanna tell me what that's about?" The man levels an irritated look back at him and then shrugs, dismissive. "I don't play with my food." "Your food had intel I've been hunting for two weeks." "Tough shit. Maybe if you hadn't screwed up your goddamn trig—" His lip curls of its own volition, affronted despite himself. What an appropriate time for his ego to announce it's back from the dead and in the mix. How fun. “The hell I did. I don’t miss.” "Is that right? There's some real screwed up drywall down there that says otherwise." His voice picks up an edge of something dangerous, aiming for threatening and landing on feral as he takes a step closer, and Jesus, can he stay down already? "Unless you did it on purpose to let him know I'm coming because you work for the bastard, in which case lemme tell you, you and me have a whole different problem." "I don't work for anybody," he says, probably with more intensity than strictly necessary. "He was a civillian. I don't kill civillians." The words curl acerbic on his tongue. He doesn't. He doesn't. That, of all things, makes the man laugh, a bitter little thing that sounds like it clawed its way out of his throat, and only barely. Who the fuck is this guy. "Oh Jesus Christ, not this bullshit again— how many of you assholes are running around this place, huh?" he says, gesturing a little wildly at him. "You got a fancy catsuit under that hobo getup, too?" It's Barnes' turn to look at him like he's a few marbles short, which judging by all evidence he very well might be. The guy snorts at his confusion, shaking his head. "If you consider that criminal piece of dog shit a civilian, you’re way more out of your depth than I thought, kid.”

but also:

“Self-righteous, God's sacrificial lamb type-of-shit," he mumbles around the mouthful with distaste, staring off across the bridge. "Got himself a stupid fucking title and everything, if you can believe that. Major pain in my ass.” Barnes hums, considering, before taking a cautious bite of his own sandwich. The thick pile of fatty meat and melted cheese breaks apart in his mouth easy with a sudden, almost overwhelming explosion of flavours, his empty stomach singing praises despite the ache in his bruised jaw as he chews. He never thought he’d say this, but god bless Queens. “Catholic?” Castle grunts an affirmative. “Yeah, I have some experience with that.”

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

heyyyyy looking for sp fanfics to read (and waiting for ao3 to return from war) do you have any good au fic recs rn? you seem to be the unofficial monarch of South Park fanfic rn, you’re in every comment section it’s beautiful–

(can be finished or still being uploaded, I kinda love the anticipation of chapters being posted like weekly, thanks!!!!!)

Ayyyy stoked to rec some more fics!!! I got some with various ships, various AU’s, mostly unfinished ones that I’m personally eagerly awaiting updates on to be completely feral in the comments!!! Hopefully you’re down w some my dude!

The Multiversal Virus by BrandonTiems bruhhh so yes there are quite a few TFBW/TSOT crossover stories and there is a REASON this is one of the most popular ones!!! Pretty regularly updated too and soooo easy to get sucked into!

Passing Through The Infinite by Jwink85 ok the first chapter dropped only a few days ago and there’s already 3 chaps!!! The characters are so awesome so far, the plot sucks you in dude, we got SUPERHERO ACTION and the gangs all here, the goth kids in chapter three!!! I’m here for it so hard man the dialogue is so great y’all know i fuck w some jwink

Everything I Thought I Could Never Have by Ultramarine_Skai aight so I’m not usually super down with omegaverse but I’m loving this story! We got rockstar Stan too so hellll yeah

The Good Park by mysticmarnie GUYS OK if you watched the good place, it’s THAT but make it South Park!!!!! The casting is phenomenal on ALL PARTS and another with frequent updates; it doesn’t feel like just a name change rip off of the good place show, it actually feels like a well thought out adaptation hell yeah brother

Heathens by Kenzie2898 yallllll holy shit it finished recently and THIS STORY ATE I actually got sucked in so hard and it’s SUCH a the gangs all here fic the pairings are so kickass we got style creek bunny gregstophe dip, fair warning there’s some DARK subject matter but it’s INCREDIBLE and the mystery and crime solving and I am ACTUALLY in love with Stan in it and the whole whole Kenny of it all is phenomenal too, there’s this WILD plot twist with Tweek’s whole thing, the depravity of Cartman in it is just BRUH and Kyle oh my lorddddd

Don’t Mind The Bruises by OrcaTimes YOU KNOW I LOVE ORCAS STORIES AND THIS ONE!!! Kyle centric, juvenile detention au, it’s HEARTBREAKING so far but seeing Kyle warm up to the others is so great and his whole history and inner turmoil is so well handled!!!

Tomorrow Comes Today by tweakystevie YALL WANT A RED DEAD ESQUE AU?!? This shit EATS OK?!? Stan’s gang and Craig’s gang rivalry, the BATTLE CLOSE TO THE END!!! The teamup!!! I’m so excited to see where the rest goes it’s so incredible!

Un Pietenza Per Due, Blackout, Machiavellian Breach, all by courtanie! I know how much I rec a lot from the same authors but mannnnnn these three in particular are some of her ongoing ones that I’m OBSESSED WITH bruhhhhh

That’s what I got right now! Let me know if any of these tickle your fancy and do not be surprised if you see insane pce comments lmfao

[catgirlneomatrix]

WIP Game!

Thank you @sugarberryandtea for tagging me in this!

WIP challenge

Go to your current work(s) in progress and share the following.

Time to look at my single long Google doc of half-finished Danger Days fics I wrote months ago (I’m never gonna finish them)

The first line of the work

OC Fic

She was cramped in the corner of the backseat of a car going way too fast through the desert, gear on her lap. The crew in the car were loudly singing along to some Mad Gear song blaring through the radio.

Summer Camp AU

It was the morning of the first day of session 7 of Camp Killjoy, the finest sleep-away summer camp in all the zones, and The fab four were sitting around a table, planning. Party Poison, the UL (or Unit Leader for those of you who have not worked at a Girl Scout camp) was looking at the binder for Apocalypse Adventurers, an apocalypse survival-themed program for middle schoolers. This was the first week The Fab Four got to work together as a group since week one, and they were all stoked.

The last line you wrote

OC Fic

She’d been staying in the diner for a couple of days now.

Summer Camp AU

 “And when your actions lead to a fistfight between 11-year-olds, I will not be the one writing up that incident report.” said Jet

A line for a chapter/part you haven’t written yet.

OC Fic

I haven’t thought that far plot-wise (Why I stopped writing it)

Summer Camp Au

They slowly realize they've just growled a child.  They begin apologizing profusely, but their fellow counselors don’t let them forget it.

Tag at least 3 people whose work you want to see, and if you make a separate post for it, please link back to the original.

I would like to see @princessg3rard, @mothwithpronouns, and I can't think of a third so if you wanna participate then pretend this is u

[faegoddessog]

 Seventy Two Hours of Bliss Ch.25/41

Chapter 25: Be Brave

Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, voyeurism, unprotected PIV (Play safe ya'll!), fingering, cunnilingus, tub play

Series Masterlist

Series Summary:

You are neighbors with Austin Butler on the Gold Coast of Australia just prior to shooting Elvis. You become just friends because he is taken. However, after he is single again, you both find out just how attracted you are to one another and things get unrelentingly hot.

SERIES WARNING: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only,  here there be lemons.

Authors Notes: I started writing this while remodeling my kitchen, so that informed the slightly quirky narrative. It starts slow, but once it heats up, it is on fire. I have tried to pull facts from RL as much as I could, but obviously there are some assumptions and flat out dreamy wishes  involved here. 

Chapter 25: Be Brave

It’s been a week since Elvis fucked you senseless. The countertop guys came and installed the granite countertops today. The flirty guy showed up, ‘to make sure everything went smoothly’. He asked you out on a date. You told him you were seeing someone. He backed down, but told you to look him up if it all went tits up.

You finished installing the sink today. Damn you are almost done with this kitchen! Appliances should be delivered this week too! You need a day off though, you’ve been working non-stop. You are hoping you can catch Austin soon. He has still been haunting you in the middle of the night, in the best possible way. You text him.

Me: Hey, when is your next day off? I have an idea!

You go to put your phone away, not expecting to hear from him anytime soon. Then your phone dings.

Austin: Day after tomorrow. What’s up?

Me: Do you want to go develop your film? You send a link to the Maud Street Photo gallery and Dark Room in Brisbane.

Austin: Yes please.

Me: I’ll book the darkroom.

Austin: You are a goddess.

Me: That is correct.

You book the space, and text him details. You get a thumbs up from him. Then nothing.

The next day at about 1PM, you are on your knees, installing the final trim around the living room when you hear the door open.

“Oh good! You are home!” Austin exclaims.

You stand up, brushing the dirt off your work pants and hug him tightly.

“Hi love! Oh no, you caught me in my actual work clothes,” you jest.

“Yeah but those knee pads though,” he kisses his fingertips and gestures towards the sky.

“They could come in handy,” you wag your eyebrows suggestively and laugh. “To what do I owe the honor of your presence so early in the afternoon?”

“Well,” he puts his arms around your waist, swaying side to side, ”I am off for the next two days, so go pack a bag, I’m taking you on a weekend getaway.”

“You are?!” you say excitedly, “Sweet! Where are we going?”

“Brisbane, I already set it all up, bring a nice dress. Wait, nevermind, I owe you one anyway. Can you be ready in like a ½ hour? You are driving by the way!” Austin is clearly stoked, thoughts tumbling out of his mouth as he backs towards the door, “I gotta go pack too, I’ll be back in 30 min!”

He shuts the door and you are standing there, then it hits you. He’s never taken you out on a date, let alone for a weekend. In public. Natural Bridge doesn’t count, you didn't’ encounter enough people for it to count.

“Ok,” you say to yourself, unstrapping the pads from your knees, “I guess we are doing this.”

It takes you 10 minutes to pack a bag, 10 in the shower and 5 to put on your long dress, Chacos and throw some mascara on. You are hastily tidying up your scraps from the day when Austin pops in the door.

“Ready?” he grabs your bag.

“I am, but…” you hesitate, unsure what exactly to ask, “what am I supposed to do in public? Do we need to walk separately, or something? I just don’t know what to expect and I’m all of a sudden nervous.” You hadn’t realized it until this moment just how green you are to all of this.

“Oh hunny,” he sets down the bags and enfold you in his arms, ”you don’t have to do anything differently. Just be yourself. I doubt anyone will even recognize me. If they do, well, most people are really nice. I love you and I honestly don’t care if the world sees us, as long as you are OK with that.”

“I want to say I’m OK with it, but I’m also not sure that I have any idea what that would mean,” you say honestly.

“Fuck, I’m sorry I didn’t think about this, I was just excited to get away with you. We don't have to go if you don’t want to,” he says, trying not to sound disappointed.

“Hold up, I didn’t say I didn't want to go. I just need you to remember that I’m just a civilian here in your celebrity world. I really don’t give a fuck about what people might say about me or what they see. I just don’t want to mess with your reputation or image or whatever. Cuz I love you too.”

“Awww, Kitten, thank you.” he hugs you close, ”It will all be just fine. I haven’t seen any paparazzi around here lately anyway. The way I see it, it’s none of their business. If something happens, just follow my lead. They don’t get to control us.”

You take a big breath, “Alright, fuck it, let’s go have a great weekend.”

You manage to sneak Austin out like last time, although no one was there to see anyway, which goes a long way to soothe your fears. You just don’t want to end up not being able to go to the grocery store. You remind yourself that you aren’t dating a member of the royal family, so chill out.

The one and a half hour drive is easy in the afternoon. You spontaneously stop at a little hole in the wall place called Yatala Pie Shop. Mostly because, mmmm pie. They make homemade delicious gourmet pot pies and pastries. You share a chicken mushroom pie, a sausage roll and a caramel tart. You are feeling much more relaxed. You are just two normal, admittedly pretty, people out driving.

Austin has a roll of film to finish, so he periodically snaps a photo of you. Driving, eating, laughing.

You pull up to the swanky Emporium Hotel.

“Shit Austin, I don’t know if I’m this fancy… I’m not sure I’m gonna fit in,” you look at him slightly concerned.

“I get it, but Kitten, the key is to simply act like you do,” He winks as he gets out of the car. You nod to yourself as the valet opens your door and you hand your keys to her.

A bellhop grabs the bags. Austin is right there beside you, hand on your waist, sweeping you confidently into the lobby. A fantastic white sweeping staircase dominates the three story atrium in front of a wall of glass. A huge red sculptural wall abuts the lush living wall that provides the backdrop for the front desk.

Austin leads you up with a little of that Elvis swagger in his gait. It’s sexy as hell. He checks in under a pseudonym. Everyone immediately is treating you both with that deference you thought reserved for rich people. Maybe they know who he is?

Taking Austin’s advice, you just act like someone with money. ‘These old things? Yes, these are exclusive Chacos only for sexy people. This dress, yes it IS vintage, sustainability is so posh,’ you think to yourself, trying to act bored, as though you have seen all this before, even though you are ‘wowing’ on the inside.

“Ah, yes sir, and your tickets will be waiting at will-call tomorrow,” says the concierge with a smile.

Austin also asks for information on where the best shopping is. The concierge recommends a couple places and offers to call ahead for an appointment and an uber whenever you are ready.

The bellhop has your bags on a cart and takes you to your room. You get in the elevator and go up, up, up. He makes small talk, asking if you’d ever been here before and where you were planning on dinner. He recommends the hotel restaurant as well as a couple others near. The bell dings at the top floor and the elevator opens to a beautiful foyer.

“Welcome to the Exquisite Suite Sir,” the bellhop says as he makes a show of opening an elaborate set of double doors, flanked by Carrera Marble columns. You quickly realize why they were treating you and Austin that way. It’s not that they know who he is. It’s that he booked the best suite in the hotel

It is gorgeous. Floor to ceiling windows, balcony, a huge bed, well placed mirror walls, marble bathroom, a huge tub overlooking the city, a walk-in closet and a full on bar with chilled champagne in a bucket and chocolate dipped strawberries. The bellhop opens the champagne and pours two glasses.

Austin tips the bellhop and closes the door as you pull open the balcony doors and go stand at the clear railing, looking out at the amazing city view.

“Holy crap babe, this is splashy,” you tell him as he brings over the glasses and the strawberries, offering you one. You guys clink, drink and take a bite out of the strawberries. The chocolate, berry and champagne flavors mix in your mouth. It's decadent!

“I figure we have both been working hard and we deserve it.” He wraps his arm around you, kissing your neck.

“Well, what all do you have planned to do?” you ask.

“Apart from you?” he drains his glass and sets it down on the little table and pulls your shoulder strap down, kissing your skin.

“I hoped I would be on the list, yes” you smile, leaning your head to the side so he can kiss up your neck.

“Well,” *kiss* “ I want to take you to get a new dress for tomorrow night,” *kiss* “We have the darkroom tomorrow at one,” *kiss* “And theater tickets at 7,” *kiss* “Anything else is gravy.”*kiss* “We can do that wheel thing," he points out the window to what looks like a Ferris wheel, “ we can walk the gardens, do a museum, find a club, … whatever you want hun.” *kiss*

“Damn, I don’t know what I want to do first,” you say, “ strike that, yes I do.” You set down your champagne, turn around and hands to Austin’s face, press your lips to his. “Thank you Austin,” you whisper against his gorgeous, full lips.

He looks deep into your eyes and says with a straight face, “my pleasure.”

You fucking crack up. He does too.

“Ahhh,” he says on the tail end of his laughter, “no really, I’m so grateful you were willing to come with me.” He leans in and kisses you slowly, deeply.

Your hands are on his neck, playing in his hair. God you love kissing him. The breeze kicks up and your dress billows. Austin's hands land on your naked cheeks.

“Wait a minute, have you been bare under this all afternoon?” he asks, gliding his hands to see if you have on a thong or something.

“Yes,“ you shrug, ”I wanted to be ready, y’know, if we had a chance for a little quickie in the wild.” Your hand migrates to his covered crotch. You feel a growing bulge.

“Did you now,” he says, “Well I can’t decide if that’s naughty or nice.”

“Why not both?” You unzip his fly and pull out his half hard cock. You step back, turn around leaning forward on the railing and step your legs apart. You look over your shoulder at him, then lift up the back of your dress, revealing your naked bum.

“Oh hoh hoh, Kitten,” his hands are on you, one on your ass and one cupping your breast, his mouth kissing, sucking biting your neck. His growing cock rubbing on your bare cheek. His shorts and undies fall to the ground.

His hand slips down your front, between your legs, feeling your soft lips. He presses on either side, making your moist inner lips push out. He milks your lips, going wide and pressing deep, then pushing them together while he pulls away. It makes you suck in breath and breathe out shakily.

“How ready for me are you?” he asks, easily sliding a finger between your lips. ”Oh my, quite.”

He pulls away his finger glistening with moisture and brings it to his mouth. You watch him suck your juices off his finger from the corner of your eye. Twisting, you reach up and pull him down to your mouth. Your tongue flicking on his lip, tasting the slightly salty remnants of you there.

Both of his hands reach down to pull your cheeks apart. His now hard cock slides between your legs, along the line of wetness he created when he pinched your lips. His velvety soft tip feels exquisite along your smooth labia. Luckily you had just got waxed a couple days ago.

You seep more. He slides more. You moan softly. He quietly groans in the back of his throat. He slides his arms under yours, fingers playing with your stiffening nipples.

“Do you want me fuck you Kitten?” he growls in your ear, “out here in broad daylight, with your dress still on?”

“Oh gods yes,” you moan quietly.

You tip your hips just enough to slide him into you on the next thrust. From behind he feels even bigger than usual and the angle hits you just right inside.

Buried deep in you, he laughs low and grips tight to your shoulders from the front. His hips rock back, pulling his cock almost out of you, then thrusts forward, sheathing himself in you again. He hits that spot in you again, making you moan.

Suddenly you hear voices. You both freeze, trying to figure out where it’s coming from. It sounds like from below. You peek over and see a couple on the slightly larger balcony below you. You motion for Austin to look.

You both peer over, him still inside you. The couple start kissing, after a minute, she drops to her knees as he undoes his fly. Her head bobs forward and backward as she starts sucking his cock. It’s fucking hot. You are mesmerized.

“Do you want to go inside?” Austin whispers quietly in your ear.

You shake your head, no.

“Can you be quiet?” he whispers in your ear, you can hear the smile in his voice.

You just nod.

Slowly, he starts moving in you. Both of you are watching over the balcony.

The man has taken off his shirt, his pants puddled around his ankles. He is moderately muscular. She has added her hand to the stroking of him. He is moaning audibly, hands laced on the back of his neck. You hear “That’s it mama, take it deep, daddy likes your mouth on his cock.” She keeps sucking him, making choking sounds.

You swallow a moan, pressing your lips together.

He stands her up, spit has soaked the front of her blouse. He pulls it off and kneads her big natural breasts. She undoes the bra and he leans down to take her nipples in his mouth. She is beautifully curvy, with long brown hair that falls down her back as he leans her head back, eyes closed, moaning.

Austin’s thrusts become faster.

He is wiggling off her pants. She sits in the balcony chair, her legs over the arms.

“Yeah, you get down there and fuckin’ eat that muff,” she says.

He kneels in front of her and dives into her pussy. She is moaning loudly. “Yeah, get it daddy, tongue-fuck that fuck hole. YES!”

It is so hot watching them fuck with Austin inside you. He starts breathing a little harder in your ear.

You can hear her yelling, “I’m ‘bout to cum daddy, yes, finger me, yes, yes YES!”

You look back down and she has a hold of his hair, grinding her pussy into his face.

“Look at her cumming on his face,” Austin whispers to you, fucking you harder now. Your fingers are rubbing around your clit, you hadn't even realized you were touching yourself.

The man is rising up from his knees, stroking his cock. “Daddy’s gonna fuck that sweet cunt now. You ready for me?”

You feel heat rising from your core

“Oh daddy, give me that big cock.” He does have a big cock, you notice. She is bouncing, slapping her pussy with light smacks as he leans over her. “You are so fucking hot baby,” he guides himself into her and starts fucking her hard, planking on the chair.

You are getting close. Your free hand is clutched in Austin’s hair behind you.

“Watch how he makes her tits bounce,” his low voice quiet in your ear. Austin starts fucking you in earnest, as you flicker across your clit with your fingertips.

“Fucking take it mama, take my cock like a champ. Oh fuck, I’m gonna paint your pussy like a Pollak,” you hear him say.

You hear squelching noises, you aren’t sure if they are yours or hers.

Your chin tilted up to the sky, eyes fluttering, you are so close.

“No baby, “ he gently tilts your head down, “watch them cum,” he whispers.

You open your mouth in a silent O just as you hear her screaming “OOOOOHHHHH FUUUUUUCK YEAHHH!!” He pulls out of her and jizzes all over her tits and belly.

Your orgasm mushrooms from your clit and g-spot and ruptures into your chest. Screaming silently, your whole body shakes. Austin is gripping you tightly, trying to hold you up as he slams into you, then leans back and thrusts deep, shaking as he silently pumps his cum into you.

“Fuck mama,” the man says, “ that was good, my little exhibitionist.”

“Yeah, I would love it if someone was actually watching us.” She says as they go inside.

“Should we tell them?” you ask Austin as he is pulling out of you, cum dripping down your leg.

“UM no,” he says firmly, “remember, shy.”

“Oh yeah, sorry, I forget that about you.” You kiss him.

“Let’s clean up and go get you a dress. Although you may want to wear some underthings.” He smiles at you and playfully slaps your ass. ….

You guys uber to a fancy French boutique suggested by the concierge, who made an appointment for you. It’s one of those places that they give you drinks and bring clothes for you to try on.

Austin sits down on the viewing couch with his bourbon. The lady running the shop is painfully thin, even for a French lady. She brings a handful of evening dresses. You tried on a couple, but none of them fit right and they made Austin frown and shake his head.

The lady is unzipping the dress for you in the dressing room. She makes a rude comment under her breath in French about how your muscles were too big for her evening wear, but smiles at you in the mirror.

You turn around, mouth open “Excusez-moi?” you say quietly, “oui, je parle francais,“ then louder and in English, “ My body is kick ass and strong. I’m not gonna let you or anyone else body shame me, especially in a language they don’t think I know. Plus that fucking HOT man out there loves this body.”

You grab your sundress off the satin hanger and shoes from the floor. Confidently you walk out of the dressing room in your bra and panties.

“Et peut-être manger quelque chose, dame grincheuse,” you say to her. She just stands there, mouth open in shock.

You stand in front of Austin, and step into your dress. He is frowning, not at your lack of dress, but at what he heard you say in the dressing room.

“Will you please zip me up babe.” You say calmly, although you are fuming inside.

“Of course Kitten,” he throws his drink back, and stands up and zips up your back. “We will go spend our money somewhere else," he says calmly.

You walk out the door, completely ignoring the shop lady as she stutters out half hearted apologies in French.

Down the street, he stops you and hugs you tight. “I’m sorry love, are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m ok, I just didn’t expect that, especially in this day and age," you blow out a big breath.

“What did she say?” he asks.

“That I was too big and muscle-y for her dresses but in French with a smile on her face, assuming I wouldn’t know what she was saying.” You say exasperated.

“What did you say to her before we left?”

“I told her to eat something, then called her a cranky lady,” he stares at you, you stare at him. You let out a puff of laughter and you both start laughing.

“You are right though,” he gathers you to him, “I do love your body.”

You try another shop, the man running it was amazing. He knew exactly what you needed and within a ½ hour you had a dress that made Austin’s eyes light up. It was deep sparkly blue, off the shoulder and curve hugging with a thigh slit that showed off your sexy leg. It fit you like a glove.

You told Austin he really didn’t have to pay for it.

“Oh no, I insist.” then in a lower voice, “so if I ruin it later, I won’t feel bad about it.”

He hands his credit card to the man, who pretends not to hear, but winks at you as he runs the card. Austin has the dress sent to the hotel. You decided not to look at the price tag, you didn’t want to know. You thanked him profusely.

“Oh you will thank me just fine later,” he says with a wink.

As you walk down the street you see a big sign that says CLUB X. You are intrigued. You walk right in and find a sex toy store. You are giddy! You love these places!

“I’ve never been brave enough to go to a place like this,” he whispers in your ear.

“Oh babe, these places are fun! People aren’t embarrassed about sex and you can ask all the questions.” You are like a kid in a candy store.

You two wander around together at first, then you separate and end up at the other side of the store.

“Can I help you find anything?” you hear the clerk ask him.

“Yes,” says Austin, ”um, I am wondering about these,” he indicates the display in front of him.

The clerk talks to him as you check out rainbow butt plugs and new clit suction toys. You decide to buy a fully submersible vibe, thinking of the huge tub in the hotel room. The clerk talks you into some water play lube and some toy cleaner, which you needed anyway.

“Just don’t use the silicone waterplay lube directly on the silicone toy, do you need some regular lube for it?” they ask, putting your purchases into a black paper bag.

“I definitely do not,” you look over your shoulder at Austin, who is walking towards you. “He keeps me wet enough pretty much all the time. Now if you have an electrolyte drink for sex….”

You both crack up as Austin comes up behind you and puts his arm around your waist. “Oh, wow, yes I can see why, lucky girl.” the clerk says to you quietly.

“You ready to go? I’m hungry,” he says.

“You two enjoy your purchases!” they say, knowingly, as you walk out hand in hand.

“Did you get something babe” you ask.

Austin just winks at you and walks on in search of food. You shake your head and hurry after him. Boys.

You come across an Argentinian grill called La Bocca Bar and decide to have dinner there. You head to the bathroom as you are waiting for a table.

As you step out the bathroom door, you notice a man do a double take and ask Austin if he is, well, himself. He shyly affirms. You keep back and let him do his thing. You are amazed at how kind he is, taking a picture with the guy and chatting. Shaking his hand as he departs.

Once you are seated and have a drink order in, he says, “See, that wasn’t so bad, He was a really nice guy, recognized me from Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. He’s a Quinten Tarantino fan too.”

You sneakily pay for dinner, you couldn't let Austin pay for EVERYTHING. He gives you a squinty-eyed, pursed-lip look and shakes his head. You just smile big and cute.

Walking hand in hand, you wander through the city’s botanical gardens as the sun sets. The gardens are gorgeous. He is gorgeous. You are fucking gorgeous too! As it gets darker, he pulls you into a dark little alcove behind a tree and plants a long deep kiss on you. His hand slipping down between your legs.

“Oh Kitten, if I were braver I would lift this dress right here and slip inside you,” he whispers into your ear.

“Fuck, be brave baby,” you whisper back, bunching up the fabric in your fist. His fingers, expecting to find the soft material of your panties, finds only your bare skin.

“Oh hohoh,” he breathes out with a curled lip, “you are so dirty, I love it.” He pushes his fingers inside you, “how are you always so damn wet.”

“You.” Your hands are wrapped around his neck, pressing your body close to his to hide this devious act from any wayward eyes.

He captures your mouth with his. Your hips rocking back and forth on his fingers, the knuckle of his thumb sparking against your clit..

“Fuck that feels good baby” you whisper in his ear. “Don’t stop.”

“You gotta be quiet again.” He lets you continue to fuck yourself on his fingers, kissing your mouth.

You can feel the sparks start to catch fire. Your breath comes short and sharp through your nose. His kiss fanning the flames. He pulls his fingers out and just starts flicking your clit with his fingers. It’s just enough to set you off, flames dancing across your nub and into your core. You quietly moan, muted by his mouth. Your hands grip his arms tight, fingers digging into his flesh. Your stomach tightens and shivers run up and down your spine.

He pulls away, both hand and mouth. Your dress drops, hiding your wet thighs. You lean your head on his chest. Recovering your breath.

You hear the crunching of feet on the pathway. You both freeze until the crunching fades. He lets out the breath he was holding.

“Fuck, that was close’ he says.

“Yeah, but thanks for being brave baby.” You lean up and lightly kiss his lips.

“Lets go back to the hotel,” he suggests.

“Yes please, I need a bath,” you declare, remembering your new toy.

“Yes you do, dirty girl” he says low, “and I need more of you.”

You decide to walk back to the hotel across the Good Will Bridge and along the river front walk. He buys ice cream from a street vendor. It is a perfect night.

Back in the room, Austin draws a hot bath. You put your hair up and sink into the freestanding, oversized oval tub. He turns off the lights and slides in behind you, the water rising to cover your tits. You watch the city lights creating contrasting highlights and shadows across your bodies. You cuddle in the hot water as he runs his fingers over your skin.

Once again, it strikes you how blissful this moment is: the feel of him behind you, the lines he is tracing on your arm and shoulder, the eddies of his breath on your neck; the warm water cocooning you both.

Fucking paradise.

You take in an enormous breath, burrow into him, and exhale the most rapturous sigh.

He hugs you tight to him, kissing your temple.

Bliss.

After a few minutes his deep voice rumbles in your ear, “Would you be willing to play a little game with me tomorrow?”

“What are you thinking?” you nuzzle your ear against his lips.

“Well, I am wondering if you’ll let me edge you all day,” he is cupping your breasts in the water.

Immediately you are intrigued, “Oh?”

“Y'know, play with you, get you all hot and bothered but not let you cum. At least not until I say so. I’m curious how you will respond to that,” his hand migrates to your labia, stroking you lightly under the water.

“Well, my demon may eat you alive… but I am game to try.”

“Your demon?” he asks.

“Oh, you have met her,” you smile, “remember that morning when you made me cum and cum and cum?”

Austin nods his head, “Mmm hmm, that was fun .”

“Well, right after I was squatting on your cock and came on your face,“ Austin growls appreciatively behind you pressing his palm into your vulva, “when you told me I needed to be tamed and knocked me down on the bed and I still demanded that you fuck me?”

“Oh yes,” he remembers, “ you had this wild look like I was prey or something.”

“Yeah,” you say a little self-consciously, “ you were. Prey. That was my sex demon. She can get out of hand sometimes. I usually keep her on a short leash, although you tend to bring her out.”

“I seemed to be able to handle her then, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he seems confident, ”and if it comes to that, I will just tie her down on my own short leash.“ He rubs his hand back and forth.

“Oh my, “ the idea and pressure start another warm fire behind your clit. “Ok, on one condition.”

“What’s that Kitten,” he rubs a thumb across your nipple.

“That we don’t start until tomorrow morning,” you sit up, reach behind the tub and grab your new vibrator, “cuz I gotta play in this tub!”

“Alright,” he says, pulling you around for a kiss to seal the deal.

His lips are unfathomably soft, the tip of his tongue tickling your bottom lip. You melt into his chest, momentarily forgetting about the vibrator in your hand. Your lips open, pressing together, creating a seal to one another, tongues rolling across one another before pulling back with slight suction forming into two mouths once again with the tiniest of ingressive clicks.

“God I love kissing you,” you say looking into his eyes, “please don’t ever stop kissing me.”

“As long as it’s within my power Kitten,” he agrees, “That’s one of the first things I loved about you, that first night when you kissed me back. I knew that any woman who could kiss like that…” he shakes his head in memory, “well I knew we would fit well together.”

You acknowledge with a soft “yeah” and nod, kissing him again, longer this time. While kissing you, he takes the vibrator from your hand, and starts rubbing it against your pussy lips under the water. It’s off, but the soft silicone covering and the friction feels good.

Your kiss becomes more passionate, leveraging against the side of the tub with your foot to twist and reach up farther to him.

You can feel his hardening cock trapped in an awkward position between your bodies. You lift away from him a little, allowing space for him to rise behind you. You nestle back down against him, reaching for the vibrator with him. You turn it on to the lowest setting and help him press it to your pubis.

The fingers on his other hand drift down to your opening. There is something about the warm water and the vibrations that just hits different, while his fingers swirling in little circle motions just inside you make it all the more.

Guiding the vibe side to side, you snuggle the end down between your labia up against your clit. A moan slips from your lips as your head falls back against Austin’s shoulder as a spike of pleasure arcs up from the vibe.

Your thumb clicks the vibe up a level. Your hips shimmy against the vibrator and his fingers.

“Oh yeah.” he breathes into your ear, pushing his cock against your shaking body. His fingers start moving faster.

Another spike of pleasure shoots through you, then another. Your pussy clenches and you jolt forward, curling around your core.

“Ohhohohoh” you moan, not exactly an orgasm, but close.

Austin extracts his hand from your crotch and lifts your hips. You grab the edge of the tub, dropping the vibe to stand up. You reach for the water play lube and decide to make a show of it, stand up in the tub and bend over really far, Austin’s hands automatically go to your cheeks, spreading them apart so he can see.

“You have the most beautiful pussy, Kitten,” he says.

Before you can put lube on it, Austin’s tongue is slurping at the water dripping from your labia, reaching forward, teasing your clit.

“God I love licking you,” he says, lips against your labia and mimicking you from earlier, “please don’t ever stop letting me eat your pussy.”

“As long as it is in my power, Mon Roi.” You mimic back.

He pulls your hips towards him and delves into you, licking and sucking. He. Is. So. Talented. You mentally thank any and all previous lovers who taught him and/or provided opportunity for practice. Your ass shakes on his tongue.

He pulls away, rubbing your saliva soaked lips and utters the best five words of the day: “I want to fuck you.”

You spread some of the waterplay lube onto just your opening, in case you want to play with the toy more on your clit.

“Can you get your cock out of the water?” He pushes his hips up and since the water is lower for you not being in it, you can slather his cock in the silicone based lube. You put your feet on the outside of his legs and flip your legs underneath you, pushing your ass back towards him on your knees.

“Oh yeah Kitten, slide down on me, “ he holds his cock as he guides you down, “oh my god that feels good.”

On your knees, facing away from him, you are impaled on his cock. His hands are pushing and pulling on your hips as much as you are bobbing back and forth on him. The lube is a game changer and doesn’t wash away. Water begins to splash back and forth in the tub.

After a few minutes, you decide you feel too detached from him. You rise off him and turn around in the tub.

Lowering down onto his cock again, you take his face in your hands and hungrily kiss him. Squatting on your feet this time, you glide up and down the length of him, taking him deep.

Fuck, it feels phenomenal be kissing him and to have him so deep inside you, to be so joined, connected together as one being in the watery chrysalis that is this tub. The beast with two backs, moving together in the ancient rhythm. Water sloshes up and over the thick side of the cauldron. Whatever magic you are making, it is intense.

He pulls away from your mouth, breathing heavily, forehead to yours, hands on your face. Your hips stop moving on him.

“My god Kitten, I feel so good when I’m with you,” he says, “not just fucking, but anytime I am with you. ”

“I’m so damn lucky to get to be with you baby, you are….. beyond words, “ you say, leaning in to kiss him hard. His ass flexes and thrusts into you. Your hips start up again.

Suddenly the water is rippling as Austin turns on the wand and pushes it towards your clit. You break away from kissing him and lean back to give him space. One hand around your waist, the other holding the vibe hard to your pussy, he kicks it up one, two levels.

“Oh fuck yes,” you moan out, head back.

“Keep going Kitten,” he commands. ”I want to watch you go to pieces on my cock.”

His words fan your flames. You are riding him like a galloping stallion, hard and fast, holding to the side of the tub. His hand keeps the vibe tight against you. Water is splashing everywhere.

Deep below and behind your belly the quickening rises. Your eyes roll back in your head, your mouth is open, the tip of your tongue flipping back and forth. Suddenly Austin’s wet finger is in your mouth. You suck it, rubbing your tongue vigorously along its length. Your strokes become short and sharp but he is still deep inside you.

“Do it baby, do it,” he says through clenched teeth. He clicks the vibrator up one more level.

The rising erupts over you like lava from your belly. Steam escapes in a full on scream around this finger as you cum. Your back is alternately arching and rounding on his cock. Water swirls, turbulent, around you both.

You are breathing heavily through your nose, humped over him, still sucking his finger.

“I need you out of this tub,” his voice is low and weighty.

You rise off him and he slips out from under you. You collapse into the tub. Getting out, he almost slips on the wet floor. He throws the towel down and turns to help you out. His cock dripping with water and lube in front of you. You look up, it’s gorgeous. Maybe it's the demon in you, but god you love his cock.

He hauls you up onto your feet and helps you get out, reaching down to grab the vibe. He walks you slowly, carefully backwards off the hard, wet floor, wrapping your wet hair around his loose fist.

“Oh Kitten, you got me so fired up,” he is looking you dead in the eye, lust painted all over his face, “making me finger you in public, sloshing up and down on my cock in the tub, the taste of your pussy on my lips.”

Once you hit the carpet, his hand tightens, pulling your head back. Your pussy drenches again.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard,” his lips against your exposed neck, “and when you cum again, cuz you will, I’m not gonna stop, no matter how much you beg me to.”

You shudder in delight at the thought, your demon glinting in your eye. Fuck, you want him. Now.

He pushes you down on the foot of the bed, Your wet hair splays out behind you. The cool night air from the open balcony door turns your skin into gooseflesh.

“Come get me baby, make me beg,” your demon coaxes him on.

Then he is on you with a growl, hands again in your hair. His delicious mouth is on yours, his tongue flicking and playing with yours as he finds his way inside you again.

Your swollen pussy and clit are so sensitive already that you almost cum when he thrusts inside you. You know you are in for it now.

He’s nothing if not honorable and true to his word, starts slamming into you, but with a slow rhythm.

Gripping your hair tight, he stops after each thrust, savoring your moan and your body arching, before slamming in again.

Thrust- Arch- Moan- Pull.

Thrust- Arch- Moan- Pull.

Thrust- Arch- Moan- Pull.

Each stroke is deep and hard.

Each one just a little faster than the last.

Soon he is driving in and out of you with no pause, holding you down by your hair.

You are on the brink of cumming again when he sits back onto his heels and pulls your hips on to his lap. He thrusts the vibe into your hand. You click the button several times and shove it onto your clit. He pushes himself into you and holding on to your hips he continues, dauntless in his quest of ravishing your pussy.

You can feel the heat in your face, rising red. The pulsations on your pussy expand deep into you then explode into particles of pleasure that liquefy in your veins, every cell alight.

Austin keeps fucking you.

You are thrashing on his cock now, handfuls of sheets bunched in your fists.

And he keeps going.

Wordless screams roll from you in time to his thrusts.

He keeps going.

Tears stream out your eyes as your screams turn to sobs of “I can't, no, no, no”.

“Yes yes yes!” he snarls, and he keeps going.

It’s too much, you are flooding him, flooding yourself.

He keeps going.

You are swept away, lost in the erotic pain and pleasure that is the torrent of his pounding dick.

Suddenly, he falls forward on top of you, roaring into your shoulder, thrusting hard, harder, harder into you. You rattle your own teeth with the strength of your shaking under him, clenching down so hard onto his cock.

He lets out a string of profanity, as your pussy milks the cum out of him as you clench and unclench. He is laying on you exhausted, shivering and moaning.

[floralcyanide]

The Extra || Austin Butler x OC

Chapter Twelve

Pairing: Austin Butler x OC

Warnings: mentions of purposeful emotional harm, crying, sad Austin ):, descriptions of anxiety, mentions of innuendo but if you blink you'll miss it, nothing too crazy.

Word Count: 2142

>> it's been a long time, baby! it's been a long time. but chapter twelve is now here, my beloveds. I'm sorry I've been so busy. every occurrence that I have free time, I'm either doing classwork, trying not to scream, having to do super fun adult stuff like grocery shop, or I'm resting. please enjoy this chapter even though it's fairly drab imo!!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Add yourself to the taglist HERE

September 2020

I’m clutching a coffee in my hand and trying to ignore my incessant trembling. The caffeine and lack of food this morning are stoking the nerve-wracking anxiety I feel. Today is the first day back on set for everyone and my first day playing Priscilla. Every time I try to recall my lines, my mind goes blank. Being an actress instead of an extra is new to me and has me so worked up that I’m worried about lines I don’t have to recite yet. Hopefully, I’ll settle into my role enough to remember my lines when I do need them later. One awkward thing, though, is that I’ll be sitting next to Luke for the duration of the scene, and knowing that he kind of likes me makes me feel even more nervous. I shouldn’t care because I’m with Austin, obviously. Still, the nagging feeling of someone always thinking about me in a non-platonic way makes me self-critical. So that just adds to the pile of nerves today.

My stylist pauses every now and then to let me wiggle in my seat. She's in the process of preparing my hair for the wig I have to wear, and I cannot sit still for the life of me. The coffee, anxiety, and restless energy are all teaming up to make me an annoyance to my stylist. Styling me takes the longest for this scene, even after Austin, who has to wear prosthetics and extra hair. My eyeliner in this particular scene in the movie is very intricate. I’m busy burning my eyes into my coffee cup when someone walks up to me, and it’s no other than Austin.

“What do you think?” Austin says, turning in a circle to let me have a 360 view of his leather jumpsuit.

Seeing him with the full get-up- the hair, the sideburns, and the tan- is much more surreal than seeing him in just the outfit at rehearsals. He has become Elvis. Even more so than when filming initially began.

“You look uncanny,” I giggle as the stylist gently places the wig on my head.

“And you look beautiful,” Austin smiles, and a wave of calm suddenly comes over me. 

The nerves are still there, but they aren’t as erratic. Having Austin around is enough to make me feel better. Maybe I can do this after all. With him here, everything is a little easier. He eventually wanders over to someone else to strike up a conversation with. All that has to be done for my outfit now is the makeup, and I’ll be ready to film. The ‘68 Comeback Special is being shot today, so I’ll be hanging with everyone but Olivia from our group. I still feel like I’ve betrayed Olivia somehow, but I don’t let it bother me too much. I have big shoes to fill, and I have to keep my head straight on my shoulders. Olivia has often reassured me that it’s okay that I have her role, and that it was meant for me to play Priscilla instead. I hope she’s right. I guess we’re about to see.

After wiggling around in my seat a few more times and precise eyeliner being applied to my eyelids, I’m finally done with makeup and ready to head to the set. My stylist gives me one last look over, picking at my outfit and wig and eyeballing my makeup like a hawk. She gives me the go-ahead, and I take a deep breath before heading to where I need to be on the Comeback Special’s set. I spotted Dacre getting his makeup touched up after finishing some of his filming this morning. After the beginning of the Comeback Special is filmed, Dacre has more scenes to run. I make a beeline to him because I won’t see him for a day or so if I don’t talk to him now. I hadn’t seen Dacre in person since before we stopped filming. 

“Hey, stranger,” I say as I approach him, and he has to do a double-take when he looks at me.

“I almost didn’t recognize you, Roman. You look just like Priscilla,” Dacre says, a comforting smile upon his face. He knows how nervous I am about all of this.

“I’d sure hope so,” I chuckle, “My stylist spent a while on this look.”

“You look great. You’ll do great. Don’t sweat it,” Dacre says, probably noticing that I’m shaking like a leaf.

Baz arrives on set before I can respond, beckoning everyone to get ready for positions to be called. Austin walks up to me and kisses my cheek in front of everyone, and a blush crawls up my neck from people staring. Only a few people know we’re dating, but I’m guessing a lot more people get the memo now with the PDA. Everyone begins to take their positions, and I follow along, going to where I’m supposed to stand and wait for Austin to walk out of the corridor. All of the extras have claimed their assigned spots in the audience, and it’s still appalling to me that if I weren’t playing Priscilla now, I’d likely be the girl in the blonde wig at the edge of the stage. I glance around the large number of extras and notice Tyler chatting with the guy next to him. He just so happens to catch my gaze, and I wave excitedly. A large grin breaks out on his face as he waves back before giving me a thumbs up. I’ve missed having him as a neighbor and a fellow extra. The last time I saw him was when he brought the last of my belongings to Austin’s condo months ago.

“Action!” Baz calls suddenly, and I collect myself.

Luke is a few feet away from me in his position, and I try not to look over at him. I still feel a little awkward in his presence, but I’m sure I’ll get over it. He’s fun to be around, and I’d hate to let my weird emotions ruin our friendship.

Austin begins to walk towards the tiny stage, and when he reaches me, we both lean in for a kiss. Luke then guides me over to where we’re supposed to sit behind the prop cameras. Austin saunters onto the stage, and it isn’t precisely how Baz wants it, so we start the scene over. I’m definitely not complaining that Austin and I have to share a little kiss a few more times. After two more takes, Austin gets the saunter down perfectly and starts his performance without a hitch. It goes smoothly, and we wrap up the first part of the scene. The next part is when I have to smile and look proud of Elvis, which won’t be difficult to look that way since I’m insanely proud of Austin right now. He’s doing so well, and this is only the first scene. The cameras focus on me, and I smile at Austin while shaking my head at him, clapping along to the music. Luke is next to me doing the same thing, his character acting proud of his best friend.

Filming goes pretty well for the rest of the day, so I head back to the condo alone since Austin has some stuff to work on until later. I’m rarely alone without Austin- we’ve been together for months almost at all times. The condo feels too still and quiet without him here. If we aren’t talking, there’s either an Elvis movie on the screen, an Elvis documentary playing, or a recorded Elvis concert is being studied. I walk to the bathroom immediately to take my makeup off. The eyeliner is beginning to make my eyes sting. When I’m finished, I curl up on the couch with Priscilla’s book. I’ve already read it twice, but I notice something I didn’t before every time I read it. Studying the book is helping me get into character more. It’s still so crazy to me that I was able to video chat with Priscilla herself. Not meeting in person was a bummer, but being able to talk to her at all was an amazing thing. 

Around 10 at night, Austin finally comes home. When he walks into the dimly lit bedroom, his eyes are red, and the eyeliner he’s wearing from the set is smeared. His face is a tad swollen, and his gaze never leaves the floor as he prepares for bed. 

“Are you okay, Aus?” I ask, looking up from my phone after pondering whether something was wrong.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, pulling PJs from the dresser before removing his shirt.

“You don’t look fine,” I press further with concern.

“Baz is just,” Austin trails off, hesitant to elaborate further, but he does anyway, “Trying something new with the method acting.”

“What did he do to make you so upset?” I furrow my eyebrows, putting my phone on the bed next to me to give him my full attention.

Austin undresses without responding, and I wait patiently for him to say something as he redresses into something more comfortable. He climbs into bed next to me, sighing as he runs his fingers through his black hair.

“The crew and Baz are just really hard on me so I can get into character better. I’m just upset over nothing,” Austin says.

“It can’t be nothing if it genuinely upset you,” I lean over and put a hand on his chest comfortingly, “Whatever they said or did, don’t overwork, overthink, or stress yourself for this role. You’ve already done enough. You’re doing enough.”

“According to them, I’m not. Baz told them to say belittling things to me and put me down so I know how Elvis was feeling to truly channel that emotion,” Austin frowns, stroking my hair absentmindedly.

“I love Baz, but sometimes he doesn’t know his limits. I’m sorry you have to do that,” I say, looking up at Austin, “Just remember you’re a great person and a talented actor. You don’t need to be bullied to be good at being Elvis.”

Without a word, Austin kisses my head before moving down into the bed to get ready to sleep. I roll over and turn off the light before wrapping my arms around Austin. I tuck my head into his neck and hold him tightly. This already challenging role has just gotten more difficult for him. But I know he can get through it.

In the weeks following, Austin would come home utterly exhausted. Thankfully he had a break in filming the earlier parts of Elvis’ life, so the belittling stopped for a while. Today he will be doing the funeral scene, which is painful in all aspects. Austin lost his mother just like Elvis and was also the same age as Elvis when his mother died. It is hard to channel those mutual emotions when in character, but Austin knows how to handle it. I don’t have any scenes to do today, and neither does Dacre. So, both of us are standing to the side and watching as they prepare the set. Tom has powder applied to his face while Austin is stewing and making himself emotional. One thing about being an actor is that you have to know how to cry on demand. However, for this scene, it wouldn’t be hard to. It’s probably borderline torturous for Austin. Baz calls for positions, and everyone takes their place. Austin is sitting on the floor, clutching onto one of the dresses as he stares blankly at the floor as tears stream down his face, waiting for Baz’s word.

“Action!”

Immediately, Austin begins to sob, and it’s a little unnerving to watch. His tears and raw emotion are so obviously genuine. But it’s not genuine enough. There are several takes, and as each one is attempted and failed, I can tell it’s taking a toll on him. Dacre shifts uncomfortably next to me as Austin’s face becomes redder or puffier.

“I hope he’s okay,” Dacre whispers.

I sigh, “The things he does for this role worry me sometimes.”

Finally, Baz is content with the footage he’s gotten, and Austin is able to get up off the floor and gather himself. He quickly makes his way to the dressing room, and I follow him, leaving Dacre behind. When I enter the room, Austin is sitting in the vanity chair with his face in his hands, taking deep breaths. I shut the door and hurry over to him.

“You did so good, baby. I know you’re probably tired after that, and I’m sorry,” I say, pulling his head into my chest.

“I’m okay. It’s over for now,” Austin says weakly, wiping tears off his face.

“Yeah,” I sigh, knowing more struggle and pain was to come for being Elvis, “It’s over for now.”

taglist: @cozacorner @onxlymnsn @anangelwhodidntfall @butlersluvbot @jolovesfandoms @austinbutler17 @slutforblueeyes @misspygmypie @mamaspresley @mirandastuckinthe80s @bobbykennedyfan @sodonebruh @lizzymizzy-blogg @defnotreadingfanfics12 @izzvoid @homebodybirkin2003 @thatonemoviefan @sarachacha @kittenlittle24 @tubble-wubble @kaycinema @annamarie16 @adoreyouusugar @csmt-m @apparently-sunshine-deactivated @amiets2 @emchickynuggies @mrs-butler @mesbouquins @ari-nicole @xmusse @austin-butlers-gf @feral4austinbutler @inlovewithchrisevans @shynovelist @mommy-maia @jessieeisenburg @karamelcoveredolicity @thtguyovrthere @starry-night-20 @coldonexx @hangmanswhorey @shelbysbitchh @mavericksicybabe @bobthefishiesworld @myguiltypleasures21  @HeraY @rainydayz101 @finelineskies  @thella @popeheywardssecretgf @Venxfinn3 @westwoodcoast @tpwk-hailee @urmom787878 @inthegardensofourminds

[the-blind-assassin-12]

WIP Wednesday : Spooky Edition 👻

Happy Wednesday, friends! I hope everyone’s week has been good to them so far! Since it’s officially Spooky Season, I decided to share some hints at what’s to come this month and what I’m working on. Please feel free to ask about any of these or anything at all!

Under the cut in case you want to be surprised!

First thing’s first: I have two more requests to finish for my 1200 follower event, and because they’ve already taken me too long, I’ve decided to double them to 2400 words apiece - starting tomorrow with Din. (The other will be Javi P. and I’m hoping he’ll make an appearance this weekend.)

Secondly: It’s not a zombie story, but I’m thinking about bringing a very old fic back from the dead this month. One of my writing goals for this year was to finish 3 series… so I figured my oldest wip to date would be a good place to start.

And plus also: I’ve spent the last few months brainstorming a ghost story that I’m STOKED about sharing. Right now I’m planning for it to be 3-4 parts, but we shall see what happens there. Who is the star of this one? None other than the sweetest man to ever work in law enforcement: Marcus Pike. Here’s the header image I’m working with for that one. (Note: the woman pictured is NOT reader. That’s an OC. This WILL be a reader insert, though.)

BONUS: @something-tofightfor & I are hoping to have another chapter of Aphelion to share very soon! And we’re both VERY pumped about it!

If by some small miracle I get to all those things this month, I may also spend some time in Jackson & on Mandalore. (I mean, there’s a full moon this month, and we all know the moon does things to the tides.)

If there’s anything here that you’re curious about, or anything at all you’d like to know, ask away!

[blazingstaro]

DotS + Life May Update

It's been a while since I've made one of these! Sorry about that!

The past few months have certainly been long ones. I'm starting to fully settle into my new job, and even as I'm reaching 3 months of employment, I'm still loving it! There's a lot for me to learn still, and it's a bit overwhelming, but I'm doing my best each day. It's nice to finally have stable income!

Personally, I'm doing well and having a lot of fun with friends new and old. It's been really nice reconnecting with old pals 🥺💖

I also feel ready to try for my driver's license soon, which is a huge step for me considering I've been too traumatized to drive for a decade. This is an enormous life change, but I'm ready for it. Finally ready!

In terms of DotS/DotS:MMM, most production has been at a full stop since starting this job. I've mostly been cooking up some worldbuilding lore in the meanwhile

Good news is that now that I'm starting to settle into this new life change, my fires for DotS are getting stoked again! Meaning I'm slowly getting back to work on things fully!

Currently I'm finishing up a bunch of character design revamps, most notably Twyla's. She's got the biggest changes of all due to some background changes I've mentioned recently. I'm changing up her colors a bit, adding some, removing some, changing up her hair a bit— the whole works! A proper redesign! Key aspects of her design remain of course, such as her wings, her purple hue, and striking green eyes 💜

Regarding DotS:MMM, I need some more time to cook on that one. A lot of things are still changing in the main story of DotS, and that's what sorta ultimately uprooted half of what I had written in MMM— that on top of how utterly long it was originally. And a certain character wedging themselves in 🤣

I'm half tempted to rewrite the script from the ground up following this first chapter since salvaging most of what I've made here has proven difficult. Honestly I might just go forward with that

There's one piece of dialogue in an existing page that I'm gonna go back and change. It's a reference to DotS' old story and has become a terrible loose end to try and tie up. My attempts so far have been real messy and kinda take away from the plot of DotS:MMM (plus it no longer has relevance in the main series), so I'm just going to take the easier option and edit that one thing out. I tried to salvage it, but it's an unnecessary subplot, a big nothing burger, and a hassle for me to deal with

Feel free to have a fun little hunt to figure out which page it is!

That's all for now! Things are moving along and stuff is getting worked on finally! It really sucks starting from no momentum, but I'm rebuilding it yet again 👍 Rebuilding just as I am the world of DotS!