#I will end up sending one I think but ye I nearly forgot about it tbh

[decembermoonskz]

.

[hon3y-y]

your choso has rewired my brain...literally cant stop thinking about popular reader who has a new bf every week x virgin nerd choso who despite his inexperience has every intention to leave you dumb on the end of his cock. He even lets you slap his books down and talk shit about him with your little girlfriends in public, but behind closed doors you're the one crying and begging him hdjsjs definition of 'send her back to her bf w my handprint on her ass' aaaaa and if its a love story, it turns out chosos had the fattest crush on her bc he knows shes actually a sweetie at heart but loves her toxic side too and gives her the best dick until she stops playing around like THE REVERSAL 😭 he would be so sweet in his own way and so loyal and a fucking dog to her lowkey but covers it up with mean words and pussy slaps 🥺

Nerd!choso has a special place in my pants heart😵‍💫

Cw; nastyy smut, filming, infidelity(👀), choso is a little pervy but that’s why we love him🫶, talks of bodily fluids, reader is a lil mean

Enjoy<3

After the first time you fucked, he was extremely a little mad about you dating someone the next day (especially since it was his first time and you knew that) but quickly forgot about it once he had his head between your legs later that night, your mouth babbling nonsense when he sucked a little too hard.

He would purposefully leave hickies on your chest and thighs, smiling cheekily as he watched your shakey legs try to dress yourself. “Don’t look at me that way," you mumbled, your usual attitude gone and replaced with shyness under his intense gaze. Yeah, he didn’t have to worry.

Choso let's you get away with everything. the laughing, the pushing, and the taunts about how “small” he probably is from your friends (to which he nearly smirks when you stiffen slightly). He goes along with all of it and even watches you tongue-fuck your stupid boyfriend, who’s likely one hard hit to the head away from permanent brain damage. But he can’t stay mad; you look so cute trying to be tough. Eyebrows furrowed and a little hiss in your tone, knowing that the moment everyone disappears, you’re nothing but a sobbing mess, begging for him to touch you.

You’re in his room later, bent into a mating press, gasping for air as his cock clumsily batters your g-spot. “Yes—fuck, cho! "Your skin feels so hot, and your mind is so numb. Choso is nearly just as loud, already cumming two times, but watching you made it impossible to pull out. A sticky mess of both your fluids caused gooey strings to form whenever he moved away, the erotic sight making him pull out and reach for his phone. “W-what are you—"

You tried to sit up when the light of a camera flashed in your eyes, making you gasp before he tilted it down, focusing on your pussy. “Look at how wet she is.” He reaches out to touch, making your hips jerk in sensitivity. He plays with your wetness, making your cheeks hot, showing off the substance to the camera before placing his finger on your hole to tap at the new cream that seeped out.

You went to pull your legs closed. "E-enough, Choso." You sent him a glare, making him laugh before leaning down to kiss your cunt. He pointed the camera up to catch your shocked face, and you glanced at it again. “Why are you filming this? I never said—"

You squeal as he nips your clit, immediately shutting up but sending him a harsh glare. He kisses your thigh at your compliance. “Do you really not want me to?” He stared up at you, putting little pecks on your bud, making your breath hitch. You shook your head, ‘no’, “fuck, I don’t care, just make me cum,” you whine, pushing his head down. You jolt up, your eyes widening, when you feel the stinging slap on your pussy.

You’re about to speak when he does it again and again, each hit harder than the previous one, a yelp of surprise escaping you as he forces the light in your eyes again, making you squint. “You’re such a slut, it’s almost pathetic." His harsh words make you pout, mumbling about how mean he is. “I’m mean? Tell the camera why you came here.” You bite your lip, looking away, causing him to grab your chin and force you to look. “I’m not asking.”

It feels humiliating: “He couldn’t make me cum.” Your voice is quiet, but you could practically feel the cocky smile on Choso's face. “Who’s he?” You want to die, shaking your head. He rolled his eyes, tapping on your cheek to signal you to talk. With a sigh, you repeat yourself, “My boyfriend couldn’t make me cum.” Choso mockingly coos behind the camera, his thumb going to rub your swollen bud. “And how many times have you cum since getting here?”

He pans the camera back and forth between your needy pussy and pretty face, your sweaty skin glistening under the intense lighting making his cock impossibly harder. You look so delicate, just helplessly taking the pleasure he gives you because your body needs him so bad. Tears gather in your waterline whenever he applies more pressure, eyes zeroing in on the slick that starts to drip down your ass.

You can’t answer, your jaw hanging open when he quickened his pace. Your chest is heaving as you chanted out ‘please!’ hips thrusting up to meet him until you quickly cum with a shutter, choso slowing but not stopping as you relax again. You look up to the camera with a tired smile, holding up your hands to signal four, your eyes could barely remain open, head flopping back into the pillow. your eyes are getting heavy, nearly having you succumb to sleep when you feel his tip align with your cunt. “Flip over, slut.”

He forces you to film yourself as he pounds into you from behind, crying when he leans down to tug at your sore nipples. He forces your back to arch more, pathetically taking his cock into your swollen pussy. If you drop the camera, he’ll wait until you pick it up again. Or, he’ll snatch it from your hand to catch you desperately rutting against him, begging him to let you cum and “fuck you right." He does just that, leaving you with a fried brain and a puddle of your own drool, tears, and juices from how intensely he made you squirt.

Honestly, he’s so horny and has so much stamina he’ll just keep going until he’s shooting blanks, making sure to point the camera at the cum that leaks out of your puffy cunt, spreading your lips so it can closely get your gaping hole. Of course, after he’s had his fun, he’ll gently take care of you. You’re practically sleeping already, barely being able to speak as he nods along to your near incoherent praise, “S'good t’me. Luv you so much."He smiles, a giddy feeling in his tummy, as he holds a water bottle to your lips, which you gulp down quickly, not realizing how dehydrated you really were. He tucks you in, cuddling as you grip onto him tightly.

It’s not long after that you stop seeing the guy you were with, or any for that matter (at least, according to your friends' knowledge). When they ask what happened, you just shrug, making up some excuse, trying not to stutter as the vibrations in your panties speed up. Choso watches closely, smiling happily as you try to discreetly roll your hips<3

A/n: I need him so bad it’s getting to me. Also, send request bc writers block is a btch. Mwah💋

[foulphantomllama]

My Secret Desire | AESPA Winter x Male Reader

I decided to post the new chapter today because I was supposed to post something else today. But as you can guess, I did not liked it enough to post it. So enjoy the new chapter!

4. The Package

She send me a pair of her underwear. With a little note on them saying “Make good use of them until i come back and get them.” And she drew a little emoji winking at the end.

But she wasn’t coming over. Neither to school nor my house. She was barely texting me. And when she does, she only makes me horny and disappear completely. I asked about her to one of her friends but they were in it too. I all got for a response was to wait. So I waited. After nearly a week and a half later, my door was knocking. It was her. I looked at the peekhole. I opened the door. She went straight in. Saying nothing. She took off her shoes and jumped to my bed. Getting ready to take a nap. I closed the door and started watching her. After a moment of silence I wanted to check on her. She was sleeping. She literally was gone for nearly two weeks and now she is back sleeping in my room.

But no. This was my time to act. I couldn’t just let her win every time. I sit beside her and woke her up. “What?” she asked me. Her attitude was making me angry. This attitude of her was the main reason I hate her as much as I love her. “What do you mean “What?”!” “You come into my house, crying. You’re not saying a single word. We fuck, you disappear for nearly two weeks. Than you sending me your panties. And after a few days later you appear on my doorstep and pretending none of this happened?” She looked at me. Holding her laugh. “Yes.” She said. Then burst into laughing.

I hold her arms. I mean, I hold them pretty tight. Her laugh was disappearing quickly. She realized that I’m really angry now. But she was not holding back either. “Come on big boy, what do you have in mind?”

I knew her intention. She wants sex again. But no. She needs to know that she does not always get what she wants from me. We fuck when I want to fuck. She grabbed my cock. But my cock was not hard this time. Because I was furious. “Come on, stop resisting. I know you want me.” She was thigtening her grab as she talks to me. I pushed her to the bed. “Okay, now we’re talking.” She said. But the following event was not someting that she would expect. I dressed up, took the keys and locked her inside my apartment. She has no other option to wait for me. My apartment was pretty high up so she couldn’t use the balcony to run away. But also, I had zero worries that she wants to escape. I was confident that she will wait for me. No matter how long I took to come back to my apartment.

I grabbed some ramen from my favourite store. It was just around the corner of my apartment. Then I rented a film from one of the stores that is not far from my apartment. Then I go to my apartment. Opened the door. There she was. Sitting on the toilet without closing the toilets door. “You should at least close the door.” I said to her. She rolled her eyes and answered. “You should be grateful that I did not pissed on to your carpet. You dick.” She was acting just like I imagined she would. “I am hungry. You did get something to eat, right?” I showed her the ramen I bought. “You’re the best boyfriend in the world.” Then she added. “Probably.” I asked her while I put the ramens on the kitchen counter. “What do you mean boyfriend?” She got up and came towards me. “Duh, dude you fucked me and cum into my throat. And I fucking swallowed it. What do you think we are? Study buddies?”

“So, you loved me from the beggining.” I asked. “Both.” She answered. “I fucking love you so much and I hate you so fucking much.” She also said. I can take that. “I love you because you’re the most precious person ever. I hate you because you’re too precious to be real. That you will gone to your own country an forgot about me.”

Her words hurt me a lot. But not in a bad way. I was hurt because I did not see it before. She was never bullying me. She just wanted my attention. Because she was thinking that I will leave her because she was not clever enough. What a bad way to think about yourself. And this was the exact reason I hated her to my guts. She was so hard to get along with. She was meaning the world to me. Yet, whenever I tried to show her this, she accused me by being delusional. Saying she is not enough for me or so. I may be too harsh to say I hated her just for this, trust me this kind of toxicity can kill. But my love for her was always getting the spotlight. It was the same for her too.

“I am so sorry If I ever hurt you with my words. I was never a bully. I just wanted your attention. And you weren’t giving me.” She hit me with your little fist as she talks. I hugged her. “No, I won’t be going anywhere. Not now at least.” She showed me her middle finger. And then she realized the film I rented. She took the dvd and started inspecting it. “I heard that this one is so shit.” She said. “It is pure shit.” I answered. Her response was hilarious, and expected. “Then why the fuck you rented this?” It turns out that this was just the way she communicates. Not exactly helping her with the social life but, kind of makes her hot and cute. Or I was just obsessed with her.

I prepared the ramen and we started eating. “Put the film on.” She said. I put the film on. In under ten minutes our meals were finished. She paused the film and said “Okay let’s agree on something.” I said go on. “If i get bored in the next ten minutes, we fuck. If I don’t we don’t fuck.” I was confused a little. “Why do I get punished for choosing I film that you probably like?” I asked. “Haha. That is how I work, honey.”

She watched that entire film. I can realize that she wasn’t really liked it. But she did it because she wanted to annoy me. But I wanted her. So I started to kiss her neck. “No hickeys.” She said. “My mother will fucking kill me.” Of course I was going to give her a hickey. “If you’re going to give me a hickey just do it on a place my mother wouldn’t be able to see.” She said. I took of her tshirt. I left a hickey on her left shoulder. “Your mother wouldn’t see that, I think.” I said. She mimics me. Then laughs. “You ruined the ending.” She said. “Come on! It was already shit how I could possibly ruined the ending.” I answered. She nodded.

“I’m just going to give you a blowjob, and get the hell out of here. I’m already late. I was gone to buy some rice. My mother still waiting me to bring rice.” She said. “I have an unopened package of rice. You can take it on your way out.” She gave me a thumbs up. Then took off my pyjamas. She was on her knees. She licked my cock over my underwear. Then she took of my underwear. Took my cock inside her mouth. Her mouth was so warm. And I already knew that she is very skilled when it comes to sucking cock. But she was too shy to make eye contact. I did not pushed her to her limits just yet. I just let her give me head peacefully, in her own terms. “Are you going to swallow it again?” I asked. She took it off from her mouth to answer me. “Well, i want to but you bought me a gigantic ramen. I don’t want to throw up the first meal you bought me.” She started sucking it again. I asked her to look into my eyes. She started to look up. She was looking so good with my cock in her mouth. I mean, she was probably the cutest girl I’ve ever seen. And she was my girlfriend.

“I’m going to swallow it.” She said. “Do not pull it out when you’re about to cum.” I pulled my cock out. “What makes you change your mind.” I asked her. “You forgot to buy me beverage. Can I please finish it and go???” “Okay, okay sorry.” I answered. “All yours.” She got faster and faster. Then I came into her mouth. First she showed me her mouth full of my cum. Then she swallowed it and showed me her empty mouth. I pull her closer to me and kissed her lips. “You just kissed your own cum.” She laughed. “But off your mouth.” I answered. “But it makes you gay.” She answered. I looked at her face laughing. “Okay, I’m going. Give me the rice.” I give her the rice I bought the other day. “Hey, mom! I just blowed my boyfriend and he give me a packet of rice.” She was laughing out loud while saying that. “At least you keep the money.” I said.  “You’re so very right sir. Goodbye.” She saluted me and went out the door. I followed her. “No kiss goodbye?” She came closer, I was taller than her. She signalizes me to bow down. I did. She put her middle finger into my mouth. “Here’s your kiss.”

God I love her.

[peachesofteal]

Follow up to this? 18+ MDNI / mild dark and twisty themes / spanking, dom/sub dynamics

You’re uncomfortable.

Seven bright, blazing screens of monitors sit in front of you, information filtering through your brain at the speed of light. This set up is so fast, so much faster than your agency’s at home, it’s processing capability nearly makes your head spin.

It’s a dream come true, but all you can think about is the memory of Sergeant MacTavish’s punishment from yesterday morning, and the raw, stinging skin of your ass.

“Keep em right here.” His gloved hand strokes over your knuckles, where they’re hanging on for dear life, gripping too tight against the edge of the desk. Your cheek is pressed against the cold finish of the wood, eyes clenched shut, entire body shuddering in disbelief. You’re still confused, stunned even, not sure how you ended up belly down, bent at the waist in front a member of the ONE FORTY ONE. “Dinnae move them. If ye do, we’ll have to add more.” Something is burning inside of you, an unbelievable, unbearable fire, threatening to spill over and burn you alive. Dark, awful thoughts rise to the surface. They whisper terrible things to you, try to pull you away with them. “Do ye understand?” He prompts.

“Okay.” You whisper, eyes clenched shut. He’s going to spank you. Sergeant MacTavish is about to spank you, like a child. Like you’re in trouble.

“Ye forgot something.” He chides, and you blow out a breath.

“S-sir.”

“That’s it. Good job.” A zipper echoes, and you fight the urge to turn your head and look. “Ye’re goin’ count. One for every minute late.”

“Yes sir.” Something flat, like a plank, pressed against the plush of your ass, and jolt with a whimper.

“Ready?” He asks and you nod. “This will make ye feel better darling, trust me.” He murmurs, pitch dipping into some deeper, darker. Something formidable.

The next thing you feel is the harsh, sharp swing of whatever he’s using against your skin, over your pants. It stings, hot fire spreading across your cheeks before it fades out, and you take a deep breath.

“One.”

“Hello? Earth to Cypher?” Your nickname. You blink. Your coworker is staring at you, and you shake the stupor off.

“What?” Shit. How long were you out? Did you space? Or were you-

“I asked if you had figured out that embedded code yet, on the geofencing.”

“Oh. Yeah.” She gives you a thumbs up, and you promise to send her the file, already drifting back to your muscle memories.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Imagine: being in a long distance relationship with deacon and you surprise him at home. He doesn’t know it and is still at the HQ. Hondo knows about your surprise and sends him home with a knowing smile after the shift. When Deacon comes home he finds you sleeping in his bed

Oh my gosh, this is adorable. I'm not totally sure if you wanted a fic or not, but I wrote one! I hope you like it and please let me know what you think!

Warnings: fluff!

Word Count: 1.3k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Long Distance to the Future

Since you left Los Angeles to take a new job across the country, you’ve stayed committed to Deacon and he to you. The job is supposed to be temporary, only it is indefinitely temporary. It’s been nearly three years since you started dating Deacon, but it will be your first anniversary away from him. It would be a lie to say long distance is easy, but it’s worth it. You haven’t used a single vacation day since you started, so you’re checking the price of flights to LAX, hoping you can afford to surprise Deacon for your anniversary. The first few months of long-distance were surprisingly easy since you were getting settled and forming a new routine, but now that things are settled, you miss Deacon more than anything. The screen finally loads, and you cheer in your quiet bedroom when the low price appears. You quickly book your ticket, prepared to see Deacon in person again. You text Hondo and ask him to call when he has time, hoping to get his help in the surprise.

Your phone rings less than a minute later, and you answer before the second ring. “Hello?” you greet, expecting Hondo.

“I have big news!” your boss cheers. “You got the promotion; if you want it, its yours!”

“Are you serious?” you ask, experiencing the second miracle in less than ten minutes. “This is such an honour, I don’t know what to say.”

“Think it over for a day or two then let me know, okay? Congratulations, you deserve it!”

“Thank you! I- can I sign the contract while I’m on my trip?”

“Oh, I forgot you’re off this week. Yes, we can do it online or we can just get a written acceptance and handle the paperwork when you get back. I’ll let you get back to your vacation, but I couldn’t wait to tell you. Have a great time and talk soon.”

The call ends, and you lay back on your bed, kicking your feet up in excitement. Your phone rings again, and you see Hondo’s name, smiling as the pieces of your plan begin falling into place.

✯✯✯✯✯

The landing in LA is a little bumpy, but nothing can take the smile off your face. You practically skip through the airport, energized by your countdowns until you are back in the same time zone, state, county, and now, city as your boyfriend. Hondo is leaning against his car, smiling, when you walk out.

“Thank you so much,” you tell him, hugging him before he takes your bag to put in the trunk.

“I should be thanking you. He misses you,” Hondo replies as he opens your door.

“I missed him, too.”

“When do you leave?”

You let the question hang, waiting until Hondo is in the driver’s seat with the door closed to answer, “About that.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Hondo drops you off at Deacon’s house, giving you his spare key to get inside before Deacon returns from work. Waving at Hondo, you go inside and lock the door behind you. You leave all of the lights off and hide your shoes and bags in Deacon’s closet so there is no evidence of you visible when he walks in. Checking your watch, you see that Deacon should be home in about an hour, so you order his favorite food for dinner and wait in the kitchen, away from the windows (in case he gets home early), for the delivery. Once the food is dropped off, you hide the containers in the microwave and throw away the bag before walking to Deacon’s bedroom to wait. The adrenaline is wearing off, and you’re getting tired, even though you know Deacon should be home soon. Sitting on the edge of his bed, you wipe your eyes before realizing how tired you are. You yawn once and fail to find the motivation to get back up.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Alright, Deac, head out and get some rest,” Hondo says. “The rest of us got behind on our paperwork.”

“Okay,” Deacon says, his brows furrowed as he walks by. “Have a good night, guys. Don’t work too hard.”

He walks out to his car, a little suspicious as to why Hondo seemed so eager to send him home, but he’s tired and misses you, so he’s okay with a quiet night at his house.

Parking in his driveway, Deacon sighs before exiting the car and going inside. He puts his backpack in the front closet and then walks toward his bedroom, ignoring the kitchen and planning to order food later. When he walks into his bedroom, he freezes, part of his mind telling him to get a weapon while the other works on recognizing who is sleeping on his bed.

He whispers your name and smiles when you move your arm, exposing your face. He sits on the edge of the bed beside you and lays a hand on your back, leaning down to kiss your temple. You stir slightly under his touch, unconsciously moving closer to him.

Running his fingers over your hairline and down your jawline, Deacon keeps his attention on you, questions to ask when you wake up flooding his mind.

You stir again and crack your eyes open. When you see Deacon, you sit up slightly and blink before asking, “Deacon?”

He nods, slipping his arm around your waist to help you sit up. You lean against him and look up into his eyes. You missed his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, I was trying to surprise you and didn’t realize how tired I was, I guess,” you apologize, pinching Deacon's shirt collar between your fingers.

He takes your chin between his forefinger and thumb, looking into your eyes as he speaks. “Don’t apologize. I’m so happy to see you. Why am I seeing you?”

You laugh at his question, leaning against him as he twists you so your legs are draped across his lap as he leans against his headboard.

“I had a bunch of vacation days built up and.. I really wanted to see you. I missed you so much and our anniversary is coming up,” you explain.

“I didn’t want to be alone,” you and Deacon say together.

“Well, it’s an excellent surprise. You didn’t leave any evidence you were here. Although, how did you get in?”

“Hondo let me use his key.”

“Hondo. Of course. That’s why he wanted me to go straight home. Are you hungry?”

“I ordered food. It’s hidden in your kitchen,” you reply.

“You’re amazing.”

“I know. You’re pretty amazing, too.”

“This was an excellent surprise. Thank you,” Deacon says as he pulls you to your feet.

“There is one more thing,” you say, squeezing his hand.

“Okay,” Deacon says slowly.

“I got a promotion.”

Deacon’s eyes widen as he picks you up, twirling you around. You laugh, holding onto his shoulders. Your hands stay on his shoulders as he sets you back down.

“That’s amazing! Congratulations, you deserve it!”

“That’s not the good part.”

“What’s the good part? That seems pretty good.”

You lean up, close enough to kiss him, as you say, “It’s in Los Angeles.”

Deacon closes the small gap, kissing you like you’re his source of life. When you finally pull back, breathless and feeling whole with Deacon in your arms, you know you made the right decision to come home and take the job.

“Did you forget about the food?” you ask, laughing as Deacon kisses your cheek.

“We can reheat that. I had food earlier, I haven’t seen you in,” he looks at his watch to say, “11 months, 2 weeks, and 14 hours.”

“No minutes?” you ask.

“Just this one,” he replies, pulling you in just to push you backward onto the bed where he found you.

You laugh and cup his face in your hands. “I love you, Deacon Kay.”

“I love you,” Deacon says, his eyes glancing toward the top drawer of his nightstand, where a black velvet box is hidden. Future Mrs. Kay, he adds to himself.

[cosmicdream222]

Some of my manifestations from last week (with photos)

Surprise gifts

My bestie A and I regularly update each other with about our daily plan for affirming etc to keep each other accountable. I said I was manifesting VIP treatment, put on some subs and affirmed while I was making breakfast (yes I’m not a morning person and make breakfast at nearly noon 😭)

Not even a half hour later, I received a surprise delivery from Amazon:

My friend L, who lives out of state, sent me food and new bowls for the stray cats I feed, and treats for my cats (Stella & Panini are my cats’ names 😹)

VIP treatment

That evening I worked a brand ambassador gig that I booked only a couple days before. I’ve been avoiding working as much as possible lately lol but this one was nearby and paid well. It happened to be a giveaway event partnering with a local radio station and ended up being fun. One of the radio DJs was there, and me as the sponsor brand representative was given the same level of VIP treatment as the radio DJ! There was an event coordinator who basically did all the work and I just got to stand around looking pretty and getting paid for it. 😭

Gift card

After work I got home and found another package from my friend L with a gift card for me 💕

More cat food

A few days later, my neighbor left a huge box of cat food at my door. My cats are getting more spoiled than me 😂

An air fryer

This one is cool because I specifically wanted to manifest this. I had heard about air fryers for a while now and it seemed like something I would use, but I didn’t really feel the need to buy one. A couple weeks ago I was at Trader Joe’s with my mom and the cashier was saying how much he loooved his air fryer and telling me all the things I could make with it. I decided that moment I would just manifest one eventually, and forgot about it.

So the other day my mom comes to pick me up for a family lunch and she has a huge box in her hands - an air fryer?? She says jokingly “happy birthday” - my birthday isn’t for another 4 months! She said she just felt like I needed one 🤷🏻‍♀️

It’s so cute and I’ve already used it a couple times 💕

Attention from sp

Soo I have this crush-type guy we’ll call D. He’s one of my best friends and we’ve talked nearly every day for 3 years. I can talk to him about anything, including all things supernatural and shifting. We have admitted to having feelings for each other, and even had “online boyfriend” vibes for a while, but we live in different states, and he didn’t want to do long distance. I was sad and anxious about it for a while, but since I found out about loa and shifting, I realized none of it mattered and I could just shift to a reality where we’re together already 😂

Anyway I had become detached and stopped really thinking about him in a romantic way for a while. However, I realized since I basically didn’t care and wasn’t thinking about him, he was becoming distant in response. We hadn’t been really flirty or romantic in a few months, and I hadn’t even talked to him in a week, which was unusual. Although I wasn’t anxious about it or anything, I was still missing talking to one of my best friends. So I just started assuming he would go back to blowing up my phone all day, and I sent him some mental telepathy messages about what I wanted.

Monday morning he messaged me apologizing for being distant. He had been traveling for spring vacation and took a break from his phone. He then basically spent the whole week trying to make up for it, being super attentive, listening to my long ramblings about my void and shifting progress, sending me selfies every day, being more sweet and romantic than he had been in months, and kept telling me how pretty I was 🥰

Losing a follower LOL

This is just a funny one to round out my list. I hadn’t been on tumblr in a bit, and when I went to check my asks, I saw I had 556 followers. I thought “darn I missed the angel number, haha maybe someone will unfollow me so I can get the screenshot.” Not 5 min later when I went to look again, it had happened, and I got the screenshot 😂

(Up to 558 now thank you all 💕)

[spinchip]

They send Cole in to talk to him because Jay’s never had a serious relationship other than Nya (and they're still together,) kai’s only ever had flings, and Lloyd was as knowledgeable on break-ups as a wet pile of leaves. Cole is the resident expert on heart break, being as he’s had 2 long(ish) lasting relationships that had both come to a tragic end- albeit, even he wasn’t quite experienced with this level of heartache. His ex boyfriends were from highschool, and nothing ever mattered in highschool. Especially not since he’d become a ninja. Who cared if Joaquin cheated on him with Lexi? He saved ninjago from countless evils. Joaquin was probably regretting it now!

Kai nudges him and exaggerates his eyebrows silently, motioning towards the kitchen door. Okay, so Cole was stalling. Just a bit. He was a little afraid he’d be out of his depth on this-scratch that, he was certain of it. Maybe if it were Jay or Karloff, he could manage- but Zanes emotions ran wide and deep and it was so incredibly hard to navigate those waters. Alas, he was specially chosen for this mission. He had to try.

He cautiously creaks open the kitchen door and finds Zane… chopping vegetables. For some reason, he’d convinced himself he’d find him curled up on the counters crying his eyes out. Yes, Zane was a very emotional person- but Cole forgot how deeply Zane hid that part of himself away. He can’t rely on the obvious for this. He’s gotta go into ninja mode, really do some nitpicking recon.

One sleeve of his sweater is rolled up, the other has rolled down and hangs dangerously close to getting tomato juice on it. Oh man. He’s really upset. Zane was meticulous about cleanliness, especially in the kitchen. His mind is somewhere else.

“Hello Cole.” He offers the master of Earth a smile, “If you have come to ask about dinner, it will be ready in an hour or so. I will call you when it is time to eat.”

Oh, clever clever. Polite as a peach but a not-so-subtle dismissal tacked on at the end, which means there’s no way for Cole to redirect the conversation gently. Zanes is banking on him losing the nerve to confront him. Well, Coles is no coward (And the others would just make him try again later. Better to rip the bandaid off now, right?)

“I actually wanted to talk to you.” He starts, swallowing thickly, “About how you're feeling.”

Zanes hands still just for a moment over the next tomato before he soldiers on, “I am fine.”

Cole frowns, “Zane… I’ve been through it too. It sucks… it’s okay that you’re not fine.” He tries softly.

Zane places the knife down, picking up the cutting board and setting the tomato aside, “I understand your concern, but I am fine. My romantic relationship with Pixal has ended, but we will remain friends and that is agreeable with both of us.”

There’s a pause as Cole tries to think of what to say, “You’re really… just okay with that?" At this point, an upset Zane would have gotten that kicked-puppy expression and opened up a bit more. Maybe started wringing his hands together, or shut down completely. Was he really fine? Zane? "You two have been together for what, four and a half years?”

“Five years, three months, and 12 days.” Zane corrects gently as he wipes down the counter.

“And it’s... over? Why did she end it?”

Zane gives him a quizzical look, “Cole, I was the one who terminated our relationship.”

That shocks Cole so badly he actually has to grab the counter for support. his feet nearly slide out underneath him, and he struggles to regain his bearings, “What!?” He gapes, “But- you were like so in love with her!”

Zane cringes and he can’t quite hide it, “I certainly believe I was, yes.”

“Well, what happened? What changed?” He forgets he’s supposed to be helping Zane with his heartbreak, curiosity leaping forward.

“I do not wish to discuss that.” he murmurs, pulling out a large pot and setting it on the stove.

“Ah, yeah. Sorry.” He scratches the back of his head, “It just feels so sudden. I didn’t even know you were feeling this way…”

Zane shrugs uncomfortably, “I did not want to say anything until I was certain of my choice. I thought about it for a long time before I approached her.”

Cole catches that and connects the dots faster than he thinks Zane expects him to, “A long time?… since the Never Realm?” He ventures carefully.

Just like that, Zane's face closes off completely. He stiffly continues to make chili, but does not acknowledge Cole's presence. He doesn’t comment on what he said, and pretends like he never heard it.

Cole decides to speak again, “Y’know what happened in the Never Realm…” he lowers his voice, pitching it low enough so no one could even consider eavesdropping. Something just for Zane, “No one blames you. It wasn’t your fault… We don’t love you any less because of what happened. I know it can be scary to wonder what we think of you, but my opinion of you hasn’t changed. I’m sure Pixals hasn’t either, so you don't need to run away. We still see you the same.” He says genuinely, reaching out and patting Zane's shoulder.

Zane exhales and the air in front of him swirls with snowflakes. He brushes Coles hand off but not unkindly, “You do not understand. I spent sixty years in the Never Realm.” it’s not a surprise but Cole still winces, “She still sees me the same, but I have lived a lifetime without her, a life completely different from this. I am the one who does not see her like I once did. I am not the man I was, and I feel nothing…” He shakes his head and re-words his sentence to be kinder, “I no longer feel romantic love for her.”

“Oh.” Coles not sure what to do with that.

“Thank you for your concern, Cole, but I truly am alright. I have had decades to distance myself from that pain.” Zane assures him with a smile. “Now please, allow me to return to our dinner.” He motions to the pot, and Cole takes the dismissal this time.

When he’s nearly out the door he hesitates, peeking his head back in. Zane has gone back to cooking, one sleeve rolled and the other slipping down. Maybe that’s just who he was now.

“I have one more question.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know if I want to know the answer.” he admits, tapping an anxious finger along the door frame.

“Then do not ask it.” Zane says. His voice is light but there’s a firmness there. He offers the advice with a push.

Cole accepts it and lets the door swing shut behind him.

On the tip of his tongue is do you still see us the same?

How do you see all of us, now?

[nc-vb]

𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞

Happy Birthday, Kaveh! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ I'm only two hours late in my timezone, sue me!!! just something quick & small for the loml.

pairing -> kaveh x gn!reader

warnings -> none, minor stressors/triggers.

notes -> extremely self-ship coded. totally never had any of this happen to myself; certainly not.

wc -> 2k

Procrastination. Exhaustion. Forgetfulness. Then, last minute responsibilities.

You didn’t mean to leave things to the last minute. Usually, it isn’t so bad that you would leave such a thing to the day before. Thesis writing, yes— guilty as charged; your closest friends and family have watched you scramble and panic to complete and submit your assignments before their due date, have watched you fly out of the library or out the doors of your house with a thick package in hand containing some kind of assignment. Even putting off doctor’s appointments out of sheer laziness for having to get yourself there became a habit— when was the last time you’d gone for a check-up, anyhow?

But this is different, this time. This, you think, is unforgivable. If it had been anything to do with your own birthday where you’d forgotten something, you wouldn’t have paid much mind nor care much about it. But it’s not. It’s Kaveh’s.

This simple, nearly-overlooked fact is why if anyone decides to walk through your front door, they’d find only chaos within your modest home. Your first attempt at baking a vanilla-flavoured cake from scratch had ended in utter failure, having turned the temperature of your oven one hundred degrees higher than you’d meant to, while the second became due to having slipped on a drop of cake batter and sending the newly-filled cake pan flying through your kitchen and into the brand new diamond-shaped crystal vials you’d purchased to put various types of home-brewed essential oils into. Suffice to say, the strength of your throw meant there were no survivors. Oh… The flowers left out to dry outside had been forgotten about in the meanwhile, and it’d taken only a short sun shower for your plans to make potpourri with them to become completely scrapped.

Broom in hand, you mindlessly sweep up shards of glass from the broken vials into a pile in the middle of the floor.

Anything that could have possibly gone wrong, went wrong. After all the time that it took to find all of the ingredients, all of the flowers for the potpourri and the oils, and all in the nick of time to bring over to Lambad’s for Kaveh’s surprise party— what can you even tell him? Knowing Kaveh, he’d still try to placate you and calm you down when you finally tried to explain the situation to him, that the only reason your efforts ran out had been because you forgot it was his birthday.

Your movements are quick to end the longer you find yourself stewing on things. Because everything really should have been foolproof once you had a plan in place: Cyno and Tighnari would swing by to collect the cake and your gifts and bring them along to the tavern, and when Kaveh was due to arrive a half an hour later under the ruse of you taking him out for a simple dinner, he’d arrive there, pleasantly surprised by the faces of his friends and by the cake you’d painstakingly made. It would be an entertaining night of food and drink and friends, and by the end of it, Kaveh and yourself would return to your own home rather than Alhaitham’s, an arrangement neither of them minded to have arranged.

At least the cake will have made it, you say, glancing to the dome-covered thing resting on your counter. Covered in berries of various types and split through the middle and filled with a vanilla custard, it awaits the arrival of your General Mahamatra and Forest Watcher friends. And when they finally do, surprised is barely the correct word to describe their expressions.

“… under… normal circumstances, I would’ve thought up a joke to try and cheer you up,” Cyno admits quietly, his one visible amber eye flitting about the entirety of your kitchen. “I don’t think this is one of them.”

Tighnari sighs almost exasperatedly at him. “Well, I’m glad to hear you at least know how to tell the difference.”

“Sorry for the mess,” you say from your place at your dining table, a hand still raised in greeting from when they first walked in. “It’s all yours, the cake.” You gesture to the damned thing sitting a few feet away from you. “Thanks for coming to get it.”

“Sure, ______,” Tighnari says. You watch him carefully tiptoe around the piles of glass and batter splotches in order to reach, and just as cautiously lift it from the counter to secure it in his arms.

“Are you sure you don’t want any help cleaning up?” Cyno asks.

“If these were normal circumstances, I might’ve said “yes” to your first offer,” you start to explain, “but since they aren’t, and given the fact that I’m probably going to start crying the second you both turn around to leave, no. I’m sure I don’t want help.”

The two exchange a look with the other, their mouths curved down into frowns.

“After I’m done throwing myself my own party of a most piteous kind, we’ll meet you for Kaveh’s.”

“All right, then,” Tighnari says. “Deep breaths, okay? You're alright.”

“Y-Yeah.” And just as you’d predicted, the second they leave, salty liquid is quick to gather along your waterline and completely spill over and down your cheeks. “Damn it.”

Just once, could something go right? If not for you, then for the things you do for others? You’d swear you’d been either cursed in another life or just saddled with an unfair amount of negative karma in this one, and would give anything for just a smooth ride of a day.

“Deep breaths,” you repeat to yourself, voice thick from your tears, using the broom to sweep up the piles into a dust pan. “Deep breaths, deep breathing, c’mon…”

You manage to tidy up with kitchen with less than a minute to spare; in wiping down the last of the mess off the counter, your front door clicks open, swinging creakily on one of the three hinges and revealing the man of the hour.

“Ah, ______! I’m back.” Per his typically routine, Kaveh rests Mehrak on the miniature settee sitting by the door, hangs your house key on the hook above it, and slides off his flats before moving quickly over to you. Before you can even lift your arms all the way, your movements still delayed, Kaveh wraps his around yours, pulling you tight into his warm chest and placing a lengthy kiss against the crown of your head. “I missed you.”

“Welcome home,” you say, voice muffled by his scarf. “Missed you, too.”

For a moment, he hums, before forcing you away from him to examine you.

“What’s wrong?” he insists. Slowly, you shake your head.

“It isn’t anything special… Just that the things I wanted to get done today didn’t… exactly get done.”

“Oh.” By the look on his face, you can tell he’s trying to stifle his relief. “Were they important things?”

“… yes. I’ll try again tomorrow, but I’m just… still a little overwhelmed by it to go into detail right now.” You sigh heavily, only to collapse back against him. “I really missed you so much.”

Softly, Kaveh chuckles, and gently squeezes you to him. “Thank you. Whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here. Okay?” You nod.

“… it’ll definitely have to wait until later, though. Don’t want to ruin the party’s mood before we get ther—” you instantly seize on the spot, sleep-heavy eyes quick to widen at your blunder.

Sensing you having gone stiff within his hold, Kaveh pulls back and smiles bashfully at you.

“D-Don’t panic!” he says. “I’ve known about it for a little while now. Ah, w-well… sometimes, you talk in your sleep.”

“Ah. Oh.” Damn it. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, either.” He plants another kiss against your forehead. “Surprise party or a regular one— I’m happy, regardless. Besides! I’m a good enough actor.”

You scoff playfully at him. “I’m glad I’m here to be able to tell you that you’re really not— everyone’ll know, instantly.”

He huffs. “You don’t believe me, huh?”

“Alhaitham will know instantly,” you decidedly correct. Kaveh purses his lips.

“… okay, fine. Alhaitham will know.” His next breath is harsh. “He’s really coming, too, huh?”

“Now that’s how you should act when you walk in,” you muse. “You’re really that surprised by this?”

“Well… it’s just… it’s Alhaitham.”

“And?”

“A-And—””The two of you were once good friends,” you say, interrupting his lame attempt at reasoning with you. “Just because he’s always short with you or sarcastic, it’s not for a lack of caring. You two being polar opposites isn’t a bad thing. Hm…” An unnameable expression rises onto your face. “If not for me in the picture, I’d have bet you two would eventually start dat—”

“Argh, this again?” You giggle into the hand he’d lifted to cover your mouth. “Anyway… I suppose we should be going soon, or he’ll have another reason to get sarcastic.” Placing a kiss upon his palm and successfully flustering him, you grin.

“Can’t have the birthday boy late for his own birthday, right?”

“Right.” Hand in yours, he leads the way back to the front door, only to pause and look to the kitchen wall. Your eyes widen at the batter splatter you’d missed. “Uh…”

“L-Later, okay?”

As foretold, Kaveh’s acting is below average, but as you both agreed, only Alhaitham is the only one to notice. Arms folded over his chest and legs crossed in his seat, he sends a raised eyebrow and a flat expression in your direction.

To your relief, everyone who had responded to your invitations sent out a month ago had been able to make it.

Cyno and Tighnari and Collei had easily been definite “yes’s”, their answers sent back the very next day.

Alhaitham, you didn’t have to question, despite his response of “if my schedule isn’t full, I’ll make an appearance”.

Dehya and Candace had been a long shot. With Dehya and her commissions, she’d been a little difficult to track down, but eventually, you’d managed to pin her at a desert Eremite outpost during a reprieve. Candace, you knew might’ve been the only flat-out “no” due to her duties at Aaru Village, and had even said she may not be able to send a proper response in time.

Nilou decidedly tracked you down to give you an in-person response, and even tell you she’d work on a dance just for Kaveh.

The Traveler and Paimon, who were only bondable thanks to their connection with the Adventurer’s Guild, managed to find you on the streets of Sumeru at the tail-end of their own commission to tell you they’d be sure to make it.

But certainly, the most surprising appearance goes to the Vahumana representative— Hat Guy. Quite obviously, his name had been a moniker, but even still, you can’t help but to laugh every time you have to say it. Okay, maybe he noticed Kaveh’s poor acting, too. He looks young, but still as though nothing could escape such watchful eyes.

After the day you’d had, yes; it really is such a relief. Even the cake made it in one piece! you happily realize, spotting it over Collei’s shoulder.

You drag your eyes away from the scene and focus them specifically onto Kaveh. He’s glowing. You’d argue that he always does, even on his darkest days. Golden and ruby red— he’s truly dazzling, so much so that you find yourself squinting.

“______?” he calls, and perhaps not too non-suddenly. “Are you alright?”

“I get to spend the birthday of the man I love with them,” you answer proudly, returning the few gentle squeezes he gives your hand with a tug of your own. The skin at the corner of his eyes crinkle when he grins. “I'm great. Happy Birthday, Kaveh.”

@c-a-v-a-l-r-y @leis-stuff @auraee @rvisn @plinkuro @vcvoxu @minty-vxnilla @ChaoticHearts-19 @stygianoir @imeanwatever @N-akaharachuuya @katelynwithpaint @sadflightlessbirds @sunnyf4lls @mydickisbigger @endlessmari @chocogi @hunterluv @kwelibeeery @okadahimiko @junephantom @kom4ya @barbatosfavouritenun @amilium @whorerificstuff @swivy123

© nc-vb/niicevibe 2022-2023 please don’t repost! reblogs & comments are always appreciated.

[silly-guy-123]

Mostly platonic but with a hint of romance if you squint

Anyway.

Badsansuary Day 4 - Compliments

Horror x Reader

(Also the rest of the Bad Sanses are here but they aren't the main focus)

“you look nice today,” Horror said.

The end.

JUST KIDDING!!!

It was surprisingly hot outside today, considering that it was winter. You weren't a fan of the heat when it went on for too long, but today you welcomed the change from freezing cold to somewhat warm.

You might even be able to go outside today without feeling like you're going to get frostbite.

But alas, you had nobody to spend the day with…

Actually. You did.

You almost forgot that you had friends, which was embarrassing.

Anyway, you got dressed in clothing appropriate for the weather. And you made sure to bring a jacket, just in case it got cold again.

One could never be too prepared.

Then you went outside, sending your friends a quick text that practically demanded they show up. But it was worded politely. You were so amazing at making things sound polite when you needed to.

Anyway. You had plans today.

A picnic!

You had been tracking the weather for several days in order to hopefully find a day warm enough for it.

You had prepared a bunch of snacks the day before.

So you were really hoping that your friends would show up.

You just had to wait.

Eventually your waiting payed off, because you could see the cracked skull of your best friend, Horror, along with your other skeleton friends, Dust, Killer, and Nightmare.

Yeah. All of your friends were skeletons. So what? They were better than everyone else. Even if they were a bunch of murderous hobos.

You had the picnic set up already. So there wasn't really a rush. You decided to have a bit of a conversation first.

“Can you believe how warm it is today?” You asked.

Nightmare just frowned. “Yes. I am, quite literally, seeing it with my own eyes.

“No need to be such a buzzkill!” You teased playfully, turning to the rest of the group. You opened your mouth to speak, but Dust interrupted you.

“don’t even start. we came here for a picnic, not a one hour rambling session,” he said grumpily, but there was a smile on his face.

Killer put his elbow on Dust's shoulder, leaning on him. “Awww, come on, you know, I think listening to them talk about the types of plants and their differences is fun. Why don't they tell us about it, hmm?”

“noooo!!” Dust said, pretending to be mortally wounded.

Horror just chuckled, “thanks for this, muffin. we all needed a break. you're the best.”

You tried to laugh it off, not used to being complimented so highly. “Haha! Anyway, let's eat, I guess.”

And so you all sat down for a picnic, and began to eat. Once the meal was finished, everyone appeared to be content.

“you made that? wow, thought ya bought it from a store or somethin’, ‘s really good.” Horror grabbed a second helping.

There was a chorus of agreement from everyone else except Nightmare, who preferred to just watch.

“Thank you everyone,” You said, trying to hide your embarrassment. You just liked to cook. You didn't need to be complimented for it.

Nightmare looked at his watch. “Oh. It's nearly 6pm. The sun will be going down soon.” He looked at you. “Hate to cut this short, but we must be going now.”

You understood. You just nodded, and went to pick everything up. Horror decided to help you, and you both went inside to put everything away.

“i meant what i said, muffin,” Horror said, “you really are the best.”

You began to blush, and decided to kick him out.

“Okayyyyyy, time to stop the unnecessary praise for something so simple! Bye bye!!! Stay safe everyone!!”

You said this after shoving Horror out of the house (you weren't actually shoving him, he only left because you seemed insistant) and waving at everyone before they left.

What a good day.

____________________

Horror belongs to Sour Apple Studios,

Dust belongs to Ask Dusttale

Killer belongs to Rahafwabas (I hope I didn't spell that wrong 😭)

Nightmare belongs to Jokublog

[donkeytonk]

La Robe Verte

Inspired by the traditional folk song “La Robe Verte” as well as the song “Les Amants du Saint Laurent,” this story is set in Ville de Québec in the early days of British military occupation of Nouvelle France (Canada) during the Seven Years War (1756-1763). It's not necessary to know the songs at all, but lyrics for the two songs can be read here. (Also, I almost forgot I had written an alternate story about Les Amants several years ago which is here.)

 ---

“Louise, are you sure you want to go through with this?” Margot asked, clasping her friend’s hands in her own. “It’s not safe! Is it?”

“No, it’s not safe, but it’s a matter of life and death! He’s in far more danger than I will be, and I can’t just let him – I can’t let them – ”  She could not even say the words, and she had to pause and wipe her eyes. “It’s not fair! It’s not fair and it’s not right.”

Margot returned to the little seat with a clean handkerchief for her. “I know.”

“It’s not even what the judge said, the French judge originally. He was going to send him to the galleys. And then he changed it to a fine. It was a huge fine, but he could have paid it from his share of the family business, and he would have except for his wretched brother making a fuss, and I’m certain it’s just because Pierre-Joseph converted. But now the English judge! He has it all wrong!”

“I know.”

“And he didn’t abduct me, we were going away together to be married!”

“I know, I know.” Margot had heard all of this many times before, but she nodded sympathetically.

“And he didn’t even touch me, not in any improper way. He’s far too sweet and shy. Did I ever tell you about our first kiss?”

 “Yes, about a hundred times,” Margot laughed lightly. “He was too shy and you had to ask him for a kiss, and then you ended up kissing him first.”

Some of Louise’s anger faded, and she smiled at the memory. Then Margot continued, cautiously, “And didn’t a midwife even…?”

“No! I told my parents I was willing to let a midwife examine me if that’s what it would take to free him, but they wouldn’t let me. Not even after the English judge took over.” She stopped as she realized she was twisting the handkerchief into a knot, and she paused to smooth it out again. “But I’ve been thinking, maybe they would have let us be married if – you know. Maybe this time, if anything happens, I’ll tell them that I’m pregnant.”

“Louise! You’d lie about that? To your parents, and in court? And even to a midwife?”

“Maybe it wouldn’t have to be a lie.”

“Louise!” Margot was scandalized but intrigued at the same time.

“Well, we’re going to be married anyway! And how can it be a sin if it saves a life? I will do anything I can to hold onto him. We promised each other we’d be together until death.” A shadow passed over her face as she thought of the full implications of that promise. Hopefully death would be far, far in the future, but to make sure of that, there were preparations that she must do now. “Well, I think I’d better go now.”

“Right, I’ll get Simon to saddle the horse for you.”

“Simon’s here now?”

Margot smiled shyly. “Simon is nearly always here. And he’s fond of Pierre-Joseph too so he’s glad to help. Or, at least glad to do anything I tell him to do. You don’t need a sidesaddle? Oh right, of course not. You can take Silène, the gray; he’s a good steady boy and the most recognizable. Oh, I almost forgot! Here, Simon brought you some clothes too. What are you going to wear?”

“My green gown.”

“Good, and here’s my hood too. Or the cloak? Yes, I think the brown cloak will be better. And you’ll go to Trois-Rivières, to Simon’s cousin?”

“Yes, the one who married a protestant too. They won’t think to look for us there. I hope they won’t.”

“Good. And Simon will be waiting at the Porte Saint-Jean to change horses tonight.”

“And what about you? Will you be all right, Margot? The Gagnon name is so prestigious, and your father…”

“Don’t worry about my father. I’ll deny everything, and so he’ll deny it too. I’ll be sure to spend the whole day at home so he’ll have to deny it, though I wish I could be with you.”

“And you’re sure you don’t mind? You could get in trouble if they found out you were lying.”

Margot shook her head. “I can’t let you take all the risk yourself, can I? Not when I can help. Like you said, if it saves a life, I will do it. For you.”

Louise embraced her friend heartily and clasped her in her arms. “Thank you, my dear, dearest friend in the world. I’ll write to you as soon as I can.”

---

With trepidation, Louise knocked on the door of the judge’s house and was shown in by an English servant. It was the first time she had actually had to converse with one of the English, and the fool was incomprehensible. She assumed that he was asking her what she wanted, so she said simply “The judge?” hoping that he would at least know what that meant. The man muttered something and gestured for her to follow him. There was a narrow hallway with a few other people who she assumed were also there to speak with the judge, but it did not take long before a man opened a door to summon her.

The preoccupied man whom she presumed to be the judge was seated at a desk covered with papers and books. He was wearing an elegant coat, but she could not tell if it was a military uniform. He grumbled a question in English before looking up and realizing that she was a French woman. He switched to passable but irritated French. “What do you want, mademoiselle?”

“Oh, good Monsieur Judge, I wanted to get your permission to speak with my master in prison. I’m a servant of the Rouffio family, and they sent me to speak to my poor young master Rouffio – “

“Yes, yes, all right,” he snapped, much to her surprise. He spoke sharply to his English clerk who looked equally busy across the room, but he lost patience found a fresh piece of paper to write the note himself. “You want to see a prisoner named Rouffio, yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

He signed the note and handed it to her. “There, take that to the prison guard. Good day.”

“Oh thank you, sir! Good day.”

Louise clutched the note in triumph, trying to hide her look of delight, but the judge was already busily harrying his clerk over a ledger. Once she was back in the street she examined it, but it was written in English and his handwriting made it even more indecipherable. She saw the name Rouffio, however, and she thought she could read the words “servant” and “master.” She could not believe how simple that had been! She could have visited him sooner and her parents would never have known.

---

At the prison she had much the same ease, though the guard outside was a soldier who barely spoke French at all. She asked him to help with her horse, and he pretended not to understand her meaning. He was able to read the note, however, and he brought her inside to speak to another guard, a Canadien like herself who had some English.

“So, Bower here says you’re a servant come to see Rouffio?”

“That’s right.”

“And what’s in there, then?” he asked, prodding the basket on her arm.

“It’s some fresh clothing for my poor young master,” she said, wiping her eyes with her apron. “And there’s a few bottles of brandy. One for you, good sir, if you’ll show me the way!”

His somber face became a smile as she handed him a bottle. “Ah, well! Right this way, mamzelle! Don’t you touch my brandy, Bower. On second thought, better take it with me.” He escorted her and his bottle through the prison up to one of the upper levels. Thankfully he was not a talkative or curious man, and she spent most of their ascent following behind and pretending to cry. Finally, he unlocked a door and called out “Rouffio!”

It was a large, dim, crowded room with most of the occupants on the opposite side where there was rosy violet light slanting in from a few small barred windows. Even with his back to them silhouetted against that sunset light, she recognized Pierre-Joseph immediately. But when he turn towards them at the call of his name, her heart was stung by the look on his face; it was a pitiable mixture of hope and fear at the same time.

 “Oh, my poor young master Rouffio!” she cried, rushing to grasp his hands before he could speak. “It’s me, your servant Lucie, remember? Your brothers sent me to beg you one last time to talk to the prie- the preacher. The pastor at the church.” He stared at her in bewildered and speechless delight. Then the jailer, satisfied with his duty, closed the door to wait outside with the bottle of brandy for company.

“Louise!” Pierre-Joseph finally exclaimed in a whisper. “My dear beautiful Louise! What are you doing?”

Still speaking loudly, she added “And I brought some brandy for you and all your friends to share.” An appreciative murmur rose from the other prisoners in the room, and she handed two bottles to the nearest men. The remaining bottle she gave to Pierre-Joseph. “Is there anywhere we can be private?”

He was still staring at her in joy and disbelief, but he quickly steered her to a cell. During the day they were allowed to move about freely in the open room, but this was the cell where he was locked in at night. It was quite dim even with the door open, but he was fumbling to light his precious stub of a candle.

“No, no, leave it.” The darkness would be better. She put her hand on his to stop him, and he pulled it up to his lips. Then he was embracing her, kissing her face all over, and after returning one kiss she had to force herself to pull back, laughing. “I’m supposed to be your servant, Monsieur Rouffio. What will they think?”

He laughed too, though he did not let go of her hand. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe that you’re actually here. I didn’t think I’d get to see you again, or get to say goodbye.”

“It’s not goodbye.” Her tone was now deadly earnest, and he stared at her in eager curiosity, studying her face in the dim light. She picked up the bottle from the floor where he had set it. “Will they give us privacy for a while? Can you ask them?”

He nodded and took the bottle out to the open room where the other prisoners were sharing their brandy. There were a few appreciative cheers of “Rouffio!” as he delivered the fresh bottle to one of the men and he whispered in his ear. The man nodded. After a first swig, the man passed the bottle and started a song which the others quickly joined in singing.

Louise meanwhile unpacked the rest of the contents of her basket and laid them on the narrow wooden cot, as well as her cloak and white linen cap.

“They’ll be busy for a while, I think,” Pierre-Joseph announced as he returned. “What’s all this about? What are these clothes?”

“They’re for me, and some are for you. Take off your jacket and your waistcoat. We’re going to swap.” She had already unpinned her apron and was removing her green gown.

He gaped at her in amazement. Louise, his beloved Louise, was here in the prison on his last night on earth, undressing right in front of him.

“Stop staring, Pierre-Joseph! Take off your things! You can keep your shirt and breeches.”

He obeyed, casting an anxious eye at the door, but he still did not understand. She was clearly not here for a moment of intimacy before his execution. “Why though? What do you mean we’re going to swap?”

She threw her gown on the bed. She was marvelously beautiful just now, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight. She was still wearing her stays, chemise and petticoat, but he was transfixed.

“Waistcoat! Off!” she reminded him. “We’re going to swap so you can leave dressed as me.”

That certainly broke his reverie. “What? But what about you?”

“I’ll stay here dressed as you.”

“No! No, Louise, you can’t stay here! They’ll never believe that you’re me.”

 “Exactly! When the time comes, they’ll see that I’m not you, and you’ll be long gone by then, and they’ll have to release me.”

“Or they might just decide to hang you instead!”

She shook her head. “No, out in public for everyone to see? They wouldn’t do that. They wouldn’t dare!”

“You don’t know that! They’re English. There’s no telling what they might do.”

She understood his doubt but her resolve was firm. “It’s worth the risk so you can live and we can be together. Don’t you agree? You would do the same for me, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course!”

“Then let me do my part. Please, will you do yours?”

He took a deep breath and then nodded. “All right. Yes. I will.”

By now she was removing her other petticoat, and he was astounded to see that she was wearing a boy’s breeches underneath. For a moment the sight drove all other thoughts from his mind.

“Where did you get those?”

“Simon’s little brother.”

“Simon Boulanger? Why is he helping?”

Louise laughed as she fitted herself into petit Boulanger’s shirt. “Because he’s in love with Margot and will do anything to please her. He’s going to meet you at Porte Saint-Jean. I left a horse for you outside, a gray horse to the left of the building, so you can ride there to meet him. Now, petticoat first, this goes over your head, ties around the waist. Can you do up the ties? I need to loosen these laces.”

He moved obediently and allowed her to guide his arms. Even as he dressed, he continued his protest. “I hate the idea of you being here even for one night, with all these men around. Some of them are dangerous, Louise! And if they find out you’re a woman…”

“Well I hate the idea of you being hanged tomorrow,” she countered.

He choked out a rueful laugh. “So do I. I don’t want to die, not when I could be so happy. I want to live, with you. I don’t want to leave you.”

She offered him the sweetest smile and squeezed his hand. “Leave me for just one night, and afterwards we’ll never part again. But tonight I can stay in the cell and I’ll be safe. Don’t they shut you all in your cells at night? I asked a laundress whose husband was here. And also I brought a knife.”

He stared at her once again in astonished admiration. What a woman! She had planned for everything, and she was magnificently charming in her boy’s clothes and his waistcoat which made it difficult to think of arguments.

“Stop staring and put on the other petticoat, hurry.”

“They’ll never believe I’m you,” he mumbled through the layers of fabric as he pulled them over his head.

“They will if you don’t speak. Just pretend to cry and maybe no one will talk to you. Wipe your eyes on your apron, and cover your head with the hood of the cloak, and no one will see your face.”

“And you, don’t you speak to anyone either. Pretend to be sleeping for as long as you can. If you need help, go to that man I gave the brandy to. Did you see him? His name’s Michaut; the others will listen to him. The best guard is one named Roussel, big man with a big white mustache. He said he’d be here tomorrow for the… execution.”

“Roussel, Michaut,” she repeated, nodding. “All right, let’s see if this will fit you now I’ve loosened it.” She helped him into the gown, pinned it in place at the front (with many apologies for pricking his skin) and adjusted the laces at the back. “Your shirt neck, can you tuck it down? I didn’t think about your sleeves either. Well, it can’t be helped. Probably none of the men will notice, and it will be dark soon anyway. Neckerchief, you can tuck that in, now the apron. Sit down and I’ll put on the cap.”

He sat on the edge of the bed while she placed the cap on his head, adjusting the lappets to hide his face. The closeness was more than Pierre-Joseph could bear. He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her down onto his lap.

“Stop,” she scolded him. “We don’t have time.” But she took a moment to caress his face and kiss him. “We have to hurry, love. Show me how to do these leggings. Don’t stare, show me! You’ll have time to admire my legs later.”

With the leggings in place, she donned his coat and finished with her hair tucked under a woolen cap. Pierre-Joseph tied her cloak around his neck and pulled the hood up onto his head. And then they stood back to look at each other and make final adjustments.

“Well I think you’ll do, though you’re not the most beautiful woman,” Louise sighed, examining her handiwork in the dim light.

“You are.” Pierre-Joseph gazed at her in utter love and admiration. “And you’re far too beautiful for this place. You’re the most beautiful and the bravest woman – the bravest person that I’ve ever known.”

And then they were embracing again until the guard called for her. “Mamzelle, time for all visitors to be out.”

“I’m coming!” she called back, and continued speaking in a loud and weepy voice. “Goodbye, my young Master Rouffio. God have mercy on you.” She kissed Pierre-Joseph’s cheek and whispered, “God bless you. Until tomorrow!”

“Until tomorrow. I love you!” he whispered fervently, squeezed her hand, and then he was gone.

---

The night stretched on interminably in Louise’s extremely dark cell, but her every moment inside the prison meant that Pierre-Joseph was safely out of it. She thought that she would never manage to fall asleep in the cold cell with its painfully thin straw mattress on a hard wooden cot, but she was startled awake in the morning by the clanging of keys on metal bars.

“All right, Rouffio, it’s morning.” A large jailer with an impressive white mustache opened the door. “Brought you some fine white bread that Madame Roussel made, special for you since it’s your last breakfast.”

She scrambled to feel that her cap was still on her head, her hair tucked away, and her shirt and waistcoat still closed at the neck. He was already leaving as she sat up on the edge of the bed. “Roussel?”

“Hmm?”

“What time –” She coughed and deepened her voice, pretending to have a rasping sore throat. “What time is it?”

“It’s just gone seven o’clock. You’ve got an hour, my lad. Sure you don’t want a priest?”

She shook her head. Poor Pierre-Joseph. He may have converted in order to marry her, but he did not understand last rites yet. She briefly wondered if she might be safer with a priest present, but she did not think she could carry out a deceit in front of one.

The jailer was leaving when she called for him again. “Roussel?”

“Eh?”

“I need to speak to the judge.”

Roussel’s mustache twitched in a sympathetic grimace. “You’ll see him at the scaffold, lad. He’s not going to listen to last minute pleading. Ah, here’s my good wife.”

A woman! Even better than a priest! Louise stood as the jailer’s wife squeezed past him at the door and came into the cell with a bowl and pitcher. “Poor Monsieur Rouffio, you get yourself washed while the water’s warm.” She set them down and then started with a squeak when Louise grabbed her by the hand.

Roussel rumbled angrily and strode into the cell to knock her hand away, but suddenly both he and his wife could see that this diminutive person standing at the back of the cell was not Pierre-Joseph Rouffio at all.

“Who are you?” the jailer demanded. “Marie, light that candle. Where’s Rouffio?”

“I don’t know. I need to speak to the judge,” Louise repeated, no longer bothering to disguise her voice. “And I think he would probably prefer to speak in private rather than out on the scaffold in public.”

The jailer’s wife held up the candle to peer at her face. “Saints preserve us, he’s just a young boy!” she said quietly.

Roussel stared hard at Louise and finally decided that she was right, the judge was needed here. Let it be a problem for the Englishman.

“I’ll go and send word for the judge,” he finally grumbled. “Come on, Marie.”

Louise once again grabbed the good woman’s hand. “Wait! Madame, will you stay with me? I don’t want to be alone.”

The other prisoners had already come out of their cells and were waiting to eat in the open room beyond the cell door. A few were calling for Rouffio to come out and join them for a last meal together. After exchanging glances with her husband, the woman nodded.

---

They did not have to wait long before Roussel returned with the judge and his clerk, and by that time Louise had convinced the jailer’s wife of her true sex. She had also washed her face and eaten Pierre-Joseph’s final breakfast. Still holding her hand, Mme. Roussel whispered in her husband’s ear as the other two men waited outside the cell. The clerk began setting up his writing slope at the long table where other prisoners were eating their bread, though many stopped to watch the proceedings with open curiosity. It was not often that a judge came to see a prisoner on the morning of his execution. The judge glanced at the two figures in the back of the cell and rounded on Roussel. “Well, what’s the problem, guard? And this woman, who is she?”

“That’s my wife, sir.” Roussel was at a loss for words, but that question at least he could answer.

“Well? Come out of there, Madame, and you Rouffio, come here.”

The woman began to obey but Louise pulled her back, remaining in the shadows at the back of the cell. “I’d rather not, sir,” she said quietly.

“You’d rather not?” the judge sputtered. “Ridiculous. The guard has said that you have something to tell me that’s extremely urgent. So if you want to speak before you’re hanged, come here, sit down, and tell me.”

The common room had become far too quiet at this point. The other men had stopped pretending to be busy with their food, and every ear was listening.

Louise took a deep breath. It was time. She spoke very quietly. “But sir, you would be wrong to hang a girl in boy’s clothing.”

The silence lasted only a second before the first shocked prisoners whispered the words to their neighbors, who passed it along to the next louder, then louder, until the crescendo broke like a crashing wave of men who were shouting and crowding to the door of the cell to see the spectacle for themselves. Barely ahead of them were the judge and Roussel who bellowed at them to step back, while the poor clerk still sat speechless at the table.

The judge managed to enter the cell and was barking orders in a mixture of English and French. “Guard, let my clerk come here – Gilchrist, get in here! – and shut this door. Is there a light? Gilchrist, strike a light. Can you write in here? I want all of this taken down. Now, prisoner. Prisonnière.” He held the candle up to her face. “If you’re a girl, tell me your name.”

She had been prepared for this. She could hardly admit that she was Louise Cadet, the girl that Pierre-Joseph Rouffio had been condemned for abducting. “My name is Marguerite. Marguerite Gagnon. Perhaps you know of my father, Monsieur Charles Gagnon.”

The judge stared at her in shock, as did Mme. Roussel who told him, “It’s true that she’s a girl, sir, that’s true. And ah, Charles Gagnon! He’s one of the richest men in the city, a very rich merchant with a fine house.”

“Yes I know,” the judge replied testily. Everyone knew the name Charles Gagnon. “So, Mademoiselle Gagnon, why are you here in prison dressed like a boy, and where is prisoner Rouffio?”

“I don’t know sir. I don’t know who that is. I was here last night serving soup with the Ursuline sisters for charity, and I became very dizzy and must have fainted. When I woke up, I was trapped in here and my gown had been stolen. Please, may I go home?”

He stared at her incredulously while the jailer’s wife fussed over her, and then he turned to make sure his clerk was writing it all down.

“Wait – Rouffio. Wasn’t that the name of the man that one woman wanted to speak to yesterday? I wrote her a note.” The judge spoke with the clerk for a moment, but it seemed that the man had no record of the interaction. He turned to Louise. “A woman came to see me asking to see Rouffio. Was that you, Mademoiselle?”

She widened her eyes in sweet innocence. “Oh no, sir. I was at home all day yesterday until supper. You can ask my father.”

Her tale was utterly preposterous but there was no point in detaining an innocent and wealthy girl in the men’s portion of the prison, and he knew where to find her if he needed her again. After a moment of conferring with his clerk, he turned back to her and said “Yes, very well. My carriage will take you home.”

That had not been part of the plan. “Oh, no sir, I’d rather walk,” Louise protested.

“Walk? No, not at all, you mustn’t walk about the streets in those clothes, and there’s already a crowd gathering for the – damn it, Gilchrist, run and tell the warden that Rouffio’s gone missing and there will be no hanging today. I’ll go up and speak to him in a few minutes. Madame, will you find my man and tell him to bring my carriage to the back. Guard, open the door, we’re coming out. Please, mademoiselle, put your coat on.” Still not satisfied with the coverage of her figure, he pulled the blanket from the bed to wrap around her like a cloak, then guided her out of the cell and through the room with his hands on her shoulders like she were a child. He was an imposing figure with his fine coat and stern face and wig, and Louise was glad to have him between herself and all the cheering, laughing and shouting men.

---

She managed to persuade the carriage driver to take her to the servants’ entrance at the back of the Gagnon home instead of the front door, and then she had her long walk back in the direction she had just come from. She wished that she could rush inside to see Margot, but she knew that her friend needed to remain above any suspicion.

She was tired and footsore when she at last reached the Place d'Armes, but she smiled to recognize Simon Boulanger, Margot’s admirer still waiting for her in the driver’s seat of a carriage with the curtains drawn closed. She expected it to be empty, and that he would bring her to the appointed meeting place past the city gates, but inside to welcome her was Pierre-Joseph, her own handsome beautiful Pierre-Joseph, freshly bathed, freshly shaved, and dressed in clean but suitably unremarkable gentleman’s clothes. She barely contained a shriek before she threw herself into his arms for a kiss. Simon took this sound as a signal, and the carriage began to move. After perhaps a thousand kisses, Pierre-Joseph leaned back to look at her in the morning light that was peeking through the curtains. He smiled at her and shook his head fondly.

“My dear little boy, my dear Mademoiselle, you are the most beautiful and wondrous woman in the world, but these clothes don’t suit you and they smell! I brought back your green robe. Shall I be your servant, my poor dear young master-mistress, and help you to dress for our wedding?”

[starfishlikestoread]

@mouseinamushroomhouse you asked me for a Simon Illyan playlist nearly a year ago, and I'm proud to report it is finally done! I hope you and anyone else who listens to it enjoys!! :)

(shoutout to @cookie-nom-nom for suggesting the song Time Machine and @trelldraws for the McCartney and National recs, as well as putting up with me randomly sending various songs and helping figure out which ones fit and didn't. More musings about the process & specifics under the cut!)

With this playlist I really focused on keeping the length down, since I wanted every song to count and ideally keep the whole thing around an hour in length. This resulted in a lot of songs that kind-of-but-not-really fit Simon having to get cut, which was painful but made the fanmix better in the end, and part of the reason why this whole thing took so long, hah. I did however save them all in a separate playlist, so if after listening to the main one y'all want to see what didn't make the cut, feel free to listen here (do know it's not in anything resembling order, though).

With that said, it was a conscious decision to devote 3 whole songs to the chip breakdown, because I feel like while objectively it didn't take up 18% of his life, subjectively in the moment I think it probably felt that way for him.

The first and last songs really serve as bookends to the playlist for me. With the first not even fully a song, rather a spoken word 3rd POV narrative about a robot and last one literally named 'Simon', it felt right thematically about how he sees himself. I'm not sure if we get any explicit musings about the chip from him in that light in canon, but Tej's line about his "super-humanity ... or super-inhumanity" stood out to me in that regard. Especially since it's all but said that he didn't have much of a say in getting it installed in the first place, did he ever feel like the robot people considered him to be? And how did that change?

At the same time, there's so much more to Simon than just his chip, and I hope that shows through the songs I picked as well (if you look at the dates added, you can see I only found 'Until It Kills' yesterday, and that finally completed the playlist for me). I wish I'd found a song that managed to convey him & Miles as a team specifically, but that proved surprisingly difficult as so many songs of that nature seem to be written with a direct parent-child relationship in mind. Still, I'll add it if I ever find it.

ALSO, so damn hard to find songs with spy-related lyrics, I've used so many different search terms and engines and still nearly every result is instrumental music or about a specific incident. I think I have enough in here that it works, and I'm sure those songs exist somewhere, but the internet in all its glory did not choose to reveal them to me (if you know any I'd love to have a listen, I probably won't be adding them to this playlist however as I really just want to be done with this mini-project asdfghjkl).

Edit: aa I forgot to say the one specific thing I wanted to, which is how the line "play dirty" in the song with the same name for me really links back to Galeni's line in Memory: "Damn but Illyan fights dirty when he fights" <3 that's my guy,,

And as said in the description of the playlist, first few songs are very much inspired by the fic Aral Vorkosigan's Dog by Philomytha (since it might as well be canon for me).

And finally, for fun, my top 5 favourite lines that just feel so Simon Illyan to me out of every song in the playlist:

"But no one ever tells you that forever feels like home / Sitting all alone inside your head" - Through Glass by Stone Sour "With the hands of time around my neck" - Hourglass by Motionless In White "Nano-electrodes pulse the thrum / One note to beat my heart, beat my heart, like a drum" - Yes I Know by The Pack a.d. "I testify if I die in my sleep" - Stay Frosty Royal Milk Tea by Fall Out Boy "Keep them safe inside your home / If it kills you" - Until It Kills by Midtown

If you've read this far, thank you, and do let me know what you think of the playlist and if there are any songs/lines that stood out to you, I'd love to know <3

[hournites]

I saw Hournite and immediately rushed to send in an ask! 😁 "Is this a date?" -Rhuben

Homemakers

Beth wiped silky cobweb film on her patchwork jeans. Mindful to not let her upbringing with wealthy parents and a spotless home cloud her judgment, she stepped away from the giant 80s curtains, continuing to meander through the fixer-upper. The wooden floorboards were swollen with old water damage and spreading apart by the front foyer, creaking beneath her tennis shoes. A stubborn stale smell lingered in the air, even after Rick opened windows to stop her sneezing.  

“I know it needs work.” Rick glanced around at the stains and barebones furniture, seeing his home through her eyes for the first time. “A lot of work.” 

“That doesn’t matter.” She turned around, full with so much gratitude. To her knowledge, Rick had never let anyone visit his house. When he casually suggested they stop by because he forgot his hourglass in his room, she nearly kicked her feet with giddy. She was happy just to be on his property for the first time, she didn’t expect him to give her a private tour. “I think this place is wonderful.” 

“It’s a shithole,” he corrected, shrugging a shoulder. “There was a pipe leak just last week. You don’t have to lie.” 

It wasn’t a lie. She wasn’t about to deny that it needed serious TLC. The rugs could use a good beating and every room she saw was practically begging for a deep clean. The only mirror was dirty and cracked in the bathroom. The couch could at minimum use a cover, but honestly needed to be replaced…Swiffer could do a commercial here for their mops. No dishwasher and a clothesline for his flannel to dry. At the same time, in all its depressing neglected glory, many trinkets belonging to Rick’s parents were left behind by Matt Harris, writing them off as worthless in value. It was humbling and reassuring to see the reminders of the house this once was. It brought Rick’s past alive. 

In fact, she was certain she could transform this into a rustic, positive and hospitable space Rick wouldn’t have to feel ashamed of. With some flowers in window planters and a few fruit trees for Grundy, they could even revive the farm and make it beautiful again. 

“Nonsense.” Sitting down on a soft duvet in the room they ended up in, she slipped her hands behind herself to curb the itch she had to fetch her goggles and measure dimensions. She flashed him a grin instead. “It just needs a trip to Ikea.”

“…Ikea?” he repeated, like it was a foreign word. 

Beth gave him an excited nod. “Mmhm!” 

Rick crossed his arms with a strange look on his face, leaning against the doorpost as she looked around, noticing a mismatching vibe she couldn’t quite place. She sniffed after another tickling sneeze, nose no longer quite so clogged with dust mite. An earthy scent greeted her at last. A hint of sandalwood and trees.

 “It smells so good here.” She settled in, crossing one leg underneath the other and pulled out her phone for Ikea’s web browser while ideas were still fresh. “Best spot so far.” 

“This is my room,” he told her, amused. “And that’s my bed, so you’re smelling me.” 

She gaped at him, ignoring the flush warming her cheeks. “Your room?” 

But there wasn’t a single personal item here on display! No books, snack wrappers, or any pictures…There was the bed and a chair, and, yes, admittedly now she did see his phone charger plugged into the outlet in the corner, but…she at least expected the hourglass to be somewhere noticeable. 

“What?” he teased. “Didn’t think my bed would be made?”

She stood up, sensitive to what was growing between them and unsure how to proceed. “I didn’t say that!” she protested hotly. 

“I know, B. I’m kidding.” 

His tone went soft. Like he loved to ruffle her feathers for the opportunity to gently set her at ease. 

Opening his door to her also opened a part of  himself that Beth always craved after. As guarded as he first was that she knew everything about where he came from, he’d quickly adapted and affirmed her presence much like the baby steps it took for Rick to invite her to sit shotgun in the Mustang. And now it was her unofficial official seat. 

“But why is it always you now,” Yolanda used to whine when Rick picked them up for school. Beth would shrug innocently, like she hadn’t been aware their dynamic was charged from the start. 

She wasn’t sure how long he’d ever had the peace they fostered in the Mustang, knowing this was the very place he’d used the car for to escape. It wasn’t lost on her that their friendship filled a lot of voids. Connection, solidarity, and, well, partnership. Which, at first, worked in the traditional sense on the team, but had now sailed into the uncharted gray area beyond intense friendship. She couldn’t help longing for more. And, she knew, she was the one that usually tested the boundary as the extrovert of the two, but it secretly thrilled her when it was Rick’s doing, which he was more often. 

It had only occurred to her that she’d never let Rick into her bedroom all the times he’d stayed over. Why was that? Her parents never set out any ground rules. And there she was, curling up in his private space–She could only dream what was running through his mind. Was there such a thing as too comfortable? How much was too much?

“And—” she continued to justify, even though Rick never asked. “I likely have your scent memorized because I’m familiar with your car. Or something.”

“Sure.” Rick lifted an eyebrow at her, and kept going. “Or, you just really like my aftershave.” Bending down, he pulled out a storage container from under his bed with a padlock and that had all his stuff. 

Beth glanced out the window at the field of dry grass, hoping he’d open it too when the room only grew warmer as more unwarranted thoughts of Rick shaving leisurely swirled around her head. 

Meanwhile, Rick latched onto the golden chain of the hourglass and slipped it round his neck. She decided she’d rather be embarrassed about finding such random things Rick does attractive than stay sad about the state of his living habits, clearly developed from living with his uncle. He deserved a teenage room, not a hotel safe. Now that thought drove her to wrap her arms around his middle. 

“Thanks for bringing me here.” 

Rick returned her hug hesitantly, genuinely confused. “Is this just an excuse to smell me?” 

“No,” she said with a roll of her eyes, a teeny tiny fib–she’d already buried her face into his shirt. But this was not the time for that, so she sacrificed the sandalwood for propriety and regretfully pulled away. “I know it matters, that’s all. You could’ve told me to wait in the car but you didn’t. So, thank you.” 

He nodded and Beth stepped back, folding her arms.“So, Ikea after training?” 

She watched him nervously rub his jaw and added, “We can set a budget. And you get veto power over anything we get.” She crossed her heart but in their business, didn’t think it prudent to hope to die. 

“Okay, but I veto.” 

Her hand is still over her chest. “You veto.” 

“It’s my budget not yours.” 

“Okay, but can I buy a few things?” 

“Define a few.” 

She held out a hand. “Ten things?” She saw his face twist and quickly adjusted. “Five things! Five things you really want!”

“One thing. Maybe. I’ll pay you back later. And, I’d need your advice anyway so don’t give me that look. And this is my house, not yours.” 

She saluted as he shepherded her out of his room with a hand on the small of her back.  “Message clear and understood.” 

-.-

“Is this a date?” She peered into a display box with a dozen different door knobs in one of the Ikea showrooms. Rick gave her a long sideways glance as he pushed a cart twice the length of Courtney’s staff. 

“What?” She laughed in his pointed silence. “People go on Ikea dates all the time! They browse interior decor, ask probing questions to get to know each other, share Pinterest ideas to share their dream house aesthetics, and find pieces that fit both styles. There’s a restaurant to eat Swedish meatballs for dinner…Not to mention the teamwork required afterwards for assembly.”

“You think building furniture together with wordless instructions is romantic?” 

“It can be with the right person! And a pair of very useful AI goggles. Or a guy with very convenient strength.” She picked up an eight dollar lampshade. “This one?”

He wrinkled his nose. “Does it come in black? And I thought you were very against using JSA stuff for non-JSA things.”

“Exceptions can be made–Are you sure you want black? That’s a depressing color.” 

“I’m sure.” 

She sighed, resigning to the unforgivable fact Rick was a monochromatic minimalist by default. She noted it down to collect in the maketplace. “So, is this a date?”  

The long cart came to a stop. Rick rested his elbow against the metal grate handle. “Believe it or not I do have standards. I’m not having a first date be a trip to Ikea because my house is so ugly it rendered you to tears.” 

She laughed again in disbelief, having so much fun. “I did not cry!” 

“You hugged me!” 

“Because you smelled really good, and I was in your room, which also smelled really good, and I was happy,” she explained, gesturing wildly. 

“You’re going to bump into that dresser,” Rick warned her, avoiding a backwards collision with the KOPPANG by tugging her close just in the nick of time. 

Greeted by sandalwood yet again, she whispered, “So a first date in your books would not include Ikea at all?”

“Not a first date. Not any date.”

“Noted.” She peered at him quickly, then glanced away to watch other families and couples shop, clasping her wrists behind her back as they walked along the long natural way. Rick strayed away to pick up a few things.

It was when she got lost going through the Turkish rug samples hanging from the ceiling that an arm wrapped around her and she got a kiss on her cheek felt all the way down to her toes. 

[thegeminisage]

i guess it star trek update time. last night we watched ds9's "armageddon game" and tng's "sub rosa."

armageddon game (ds9):

this one was so fun and evil. i LOVE when obrien and julian are besties and yes they fought once but they were besties in most of this

NIGHTMARE scenario for keiko. im glad they actually put her in this instead of it happening offscreen but im sad there was no reunion :(

keiko realizing the recording had been tampered with bc of the coffee thing and then finding out that wasnt true is actually lowkey terrifying. they came THIS CLOSE. what a twist ending

quark's toast was like...strangely sweet. good for him.

i cant believe DAX was gonna keep julians journals instead of sending them back to his parents?? i also cant believe julian kept a diary for years and then decided to hand all of his diaries to his crush lol like he is insane

julian foot fetish also. don't think i forgot. i didn't. what a loser <3

these aliens being so committed to peace they'll kill people is actually kind of funny. you missed the point by lightyears

i liked how serious sisko was in this episode. he was wearing his very very very serious face. he was not fucking around. i also liked that he believed keiko INSTANTLY. on tng picard would have offered 1000000 other reasons why keiko was out of her mind bc in fairness she does sound fucking nuts but sisko believed her right away and immediately started an investigation because he trusts his people and also by extension their spouses. ugh i love him SO MUCH sisko for PRESIDENT

sub rosa (tng):

wow. wow wow wow wow wow

where do i even. BEGIN. with sub rosa

so, i knew there was a sex ghost in this episode and i was sort of aware that the sex ghost fucked or wanted to fuck beverly. but i had NO IDEA what i was truly in for

firstly, let's get this out of the way, this is a FAMILY SEX GHOST. "all the howard women have green eyes" "nana was over 100 and had a lover!" can you IMAGINE having like a family vibrator. the same vibrator your grandma used. getting off to her erotic diary entries. getting off, i repeat, to your grandma's stories about your grandma HAVING SEX with the SAME SEX GHOST who is chatting you up. beverly is INSANE

deanna took all this with so much good sportsmanship. first of all, i'm so thrilled that they're the kind of girlfriends who can share their wet dreams with one another in GRAPHIC detail. secondly, her fucking face journeys when beverly was talking about this shit in ten forward I REPEAT IN PUBLIC SHE WAS LIKE YEAH I WAS GETTING OFF TO MY GRANDMA'S DIARY

picard SOOOO put off that beverly would leave his ass to fuck a 30yo with long hair. JUSTICE! who's skipping breakfast now bitch. run around on her one more time i fucjing dare you. you WILL respect the woman you impregnated with the affair baby

speaking of affair babies, when beverly was like yeah all my family members have green eyes except mom and me i was like......is SHE the affair baby? sadly, no. but i know she had one

beverly looked the most beautiful she's ever been by the way. real bodice ripper shit. picard you blew it so bad

speaking of bodice ripper, there is a version of this where it's very serious and an allegory for abuse and the sex was dubiously consensual etc etc etc. this has happened to deanna so many times and it was so icky because it was obviously a male fantasy which objectified her. fortunately i don't think anyone can be expected to take a story seriously when it involves your grandma's sex ghost so i was perfectly happy to have a good time

WHEN THEY EXHUJED THE BODY. BY SIMPLY BEAMING IT OUT OF THE GROUND.

nana who looked not even a little bit dead sitting up in her coffin bc she was possessed and zapping the daylights out of geordi and data. PLEASE.

also, sorry, i nearly forgot, but picard walking in on her while she was quite literally fucking the sex ghost. ohhhh i KNOW he was sick

OH YEAH AND. the gravestones saying vader and mcfly. set designers i love you forever

anyway, hands down the funniest and perhaps my favorite tng episode of all time. that was the first real laugh i've had in almost a week

TONIGHT: ds9's "whispers" and tng's "lower decks."

[the-lady-amphitrite]

Okay, tell me about As Long As You Love Me. Does it have anything to do with the Backstreet Boys song? Is Loki a Backstreet Boy? I need to know.

send me an ask with a WIP title and i'll talk about it!

okay so, fun fact, i don't know music pretty much At All so i had no idea that Backstreet Boys had a song with this title?? upon listening to it though i do actually know the song. i have not heard it in years though, but i'm screeching from how well it fits the story so it's been added to the playlist for this fic 😂

AS LONG AS YOU LOVE ME is actually not (directly) about Loki! it's another fic in Of Fire and Of Ice, but this one serves as a prequel to the whole series. here's the short working summary for the fic because i haven't cared to write down an actual summary for it yet.

Take a journey to discover the truth behind the story of Laufey Borsdóttir’s abduction by Jǫtunheimr, and of a life cut short because of love.

i changed a bunch of stuff in Marvel's norse lore back to fit more closely with its mythology counterparts for this AU. this included changing Loki's parentage back to its mythology version, so Laufey is his mother and Fárbauti is his father.

while i was concepting OFAOI, i just kinda got stuck often on the bit of history right before the story takes place. it always felt important to me when i was doing the first couple of drafts for the series. ruminating and working out the details of it while working on the end of the series (because there's some pre-story history stuff that comes up in the final fic that's important but not really relevant until that point) kinda snowballed into writing this fic.

it's a story about a girl who falls in love. Laufey sees Fárbauti the first time they meet when Fárbauti and his father come to Asgard during Bor's reign, and she just... kind of knows without realising that he'll be important to her.

Laufey looks down into the eyes of the Frost Giant prince, and holds his steady red gaze. Her father and brothers have always called them red as blood, but she finds she doesn’t agree. They are red — a vibrant bright red, yes— but they remind her of the red you see at sunrise. The red that brings with it the promise of a new day. And with every new day there comes new chances. New opportunities. Hope. Laufey realises she likes the prince’s sunrise-red eyes much more than the blood-red she had been expecting.

it's also a story about Laufey choosing her own path, even when the people who love her tell her it's the wrong one. it's a story about betrayal from people she thought would never harm her just because they want to protect a legacy. it's a story about Laufey fighting for what she wants, not what everyone thinks she should.

ultimately though, it's a tragedy. from the get-go of writing this fic, i knew without a shadow of a doubt that Laufey would die in the end. i didn't really have a solid idea of how, or why, or when, but i knew that she would.

I NEARLY FORGOT ALSO BUT i was looking at the planning and reading the tags i wrote for it and. i literally wrote "Soulmates, but without any lore connection to the rest of the lore for this series" and if that's not the funniest but also most genuine way i was writing this fic. they're soulmates, but theyre not the magically bound soulmates of the AU. i'm laughing and i'm crying.

[roxyteal]

Is this a Just Billy Episode? Idk maybe (Long as Hell)

"I see. I lost track of time so badly that I nearly forgot to come in today."

"(Not bad? Not bad? Not bad...)"

"The next Brewster..."

"(Phyllis doesn't know what she's talking about. I'm clearly getting a perfect score. Also yes of course I am working on the loan please don't ask about it.)"

"Pain. Agony, even. I can hear him right now. 'git gud scrub'... Damn you, Viktor. Wait. I WILL JUST BUILD ANOTHER."

"I HAVE 44 I HAVE 44 I HAVE 44. IS THIS IT. THE FABLED. THE ONE AND ONLY..."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

"FINALLY AT LONG LAST I CAN- Wait. A what?"

"All that trouble. For this? For this. Please don't think of me as ungrateful, but..."

"I do not like it."

"I feel pitied."

"I finally get a bingo after our mayor's disastrous use of time travel (all for what? Toy Day? And he couldn't even send out the correct gifts? Sigh) but after having an 'almost bingo' in three (no, four) different ways what happens is that I am given a ski slope wallpaper and I'm not even into skiing nor do I care for the aesthetic very much so I ended up getting rid of it and I do not think I will be playing Bingo again ever it was one hundred percent not worth it and- Oh, thank you."

"Should... Should I be concerned?"

"This is how much I still owe Mr. Nook. I still wish I could just upgrade by myself, but there does not seem to be a way..."

[minalblood]

Ep 10... oh boy theres a lot to say with this one.

We begin with a nice twist. The woman needing help is Akrida and the victim is the other woman who's stopped to help. Since I've recently been reminded of it, this set up instantly made me think of Sam.meeting Cole for the 1st time, but in that the one flatlined actually needed help.

The Akrida committed to the acting I see.

God the actresses did such a good job raising the tension

LOVE seeing Millie do more handywork around. We dont have nearly enough of her getting into machinery

Mary and John hating being left to research is funny af to me.

Congrats Mary for getting into college and I like that John is actually happy for her, even ribbing her a bit. Love that dynamic actualy.

"Normal life will have to wait another day" thay cut deep fellas ngl. Mainly because i would argue its exactly what Sam and Dean told themselves to put off actually getting to do anything they wanted. And we have this exact sentiment echoed 5 min later by Carlos for why they need to break up with Anton (cant afford to with the fate of the world on their shoulders). The fact that both of these are accompanied by Dean's monologue about hunting and happy endings? Very very relevant to Dean and the life he led. But more importantly, the "how far will I go to get it" echoes back a few.more things amd makes it almost ominous. We'll come back to this when we meet Mr Sheffield (i dont remmeber the characters name rn, will use it later when they say it) since the dark meaning to Dean's words is highlighted by his story.

This might be the most clear indication of who Carlos was before the Winchesters, the version Samuel was mentioning when talking about them a few ep ago. The lone wolf version, the impulsive one, the not getting close to ppl one. Im very happy they've changed, i think they're happier like this.

Oh noooo, I forgot we have Roxy here 🥲 this'll hurt.

John and Mary see a tea set and alphabetized books out: now thats truly disturbing behaviour

John and Mary any other time: eh, thats normal

I live for the chaotic pair these 2 make together

Why tf does he still have the key if they threw him.out of the MOL? Then again, considering the many issues with the MOL, this is only a mildly annoying thing.

Ah yes, hunters are apes commentary, ffs what even started this bullshit feud between hunters and MOL?? It was there on Samuel's side too, and we even see Henry go with that particular opinion...

Sooo, either Jack was really the one experimenting on monsters or that actually was Hobbes' job, regardless we know what that turned into - not just the various bodyguards that our scooby gang has encoutered thus far, but the more insidious uses too like the monsters Cuthbert Sinclaire reprogramms or the manipulation of Mrs Butters or even Mary's own brainwashing. Safe to say all this send my mind to Naomi and how heaven has a very similar approach to keeping their angels in check. Fitting then that it's the Winchester side of the family that is MOL legacy with the Campbell side being the hunters family qho tends to go for a more straightforward will just eliminate the threat vibe (more hell aligned u could say). "A lobotomy makes most monsters subservient *wink*" he says and I cannot not be filled with revulsion on multiple layers. Including the actual issue with lobotomies generally and how their extended "use" was due to a fraud profitting off of people... yeaaaa all the red flags with Jack/Porter here. But also in general it goes back to the type of MOL we have in SPN, the exact kind that JAck/Porter is are the ones still alive, who have very little actual care of who they harm in their scientific pursuit.

Clear alarm bells sounding when askes about Henry, he has a very clear tell.

Hint hint nudge nudge about Jack/Porters lack of family

You know the thing that actually annoys me about people like Jack/Porter? The fact that if he'd applied his knowledge to actually get ppl depossessed he could've actually done something helpful, that would save ppl, but nope, instead he focused everything into his fixation and inability of letting go. To everyones detriment.

Well, Roxy's motel room reminds me of several times we've seen Dean in similar places... especially after the Mark got bad.

Roxy breaks my heart. Everytime.

And we have another instance of possession being portrayed as the violation it actually is. SPN had a few moments of showing this, most notably with Sam and Lucifer, but we've rarely had such an indepth showing of exactly how someone no longer possessed is coping. The only other ones I can remember clearly delving into are Jeffrey in s7 and Nick in s14, but in both those cases, Jeffrey and Nick were more akin toa depiction of Stockholm Syndrome or at the very least a dependence had been created having been possessed so long. Which is in itself a bit problematic a message to send tbh, but Roxy meanwhile is the opposite. Not only does she not want the Akrida back, she actively is trying to deny it ever having happened initially and she def doesnt want to be reminded of it.

Ironic that it's Carlos who says the forgetting isnt working for Roxy... considering

I also adore the parallel made between Jack/Porter and Lata in this episode? Like they both have that scientific curiosity that can become really dangerous (as seen with Jack) but unlike Jack, Lata actually wants to help people so she uses what she knows (just as much a type of brainwashing technique as Jack/Porters lobotomy fyi) to offer someone help. But! Lata asks for Roxy's consent and is upfront, where Jack/Porter is lying and manipulating and taking foe himself.

Mary's instant red flag reading of Jack/Porter for the win, but she should've listened to her instincts faster. She believes next to nothing of his words. I love her so much.

I love the round table Arkida scene... its so much fun to watch. Ironic that the Akrida call hunters pests... also yay Dean!

The fact that Jack/Porter is so so pissed off is his own downfall tbh. The bitter comments fucked up his facade.

Tonyyyyy yessss. Also Lata and Tony yaaay

I love how absolutely huge gossip queens both Lata and Carlos are.

I also love Carlos' little notepad during the scene with Roxy.

The description of her possession is way to visceral fuck I fogot how hard to watch this was. And how much it echoes to asault. Not even echoes tbh considering we have a clearer scene relating to sexual assault when Jack/Porter tries to have Dorothea possess Mary so thw comparison of possession to assault is very much there this episode.

Wonder if Jack Wilcox defected to the Brits in SPN? And began what would later be Lady Bevell's expertise? The fact that he even put on a British accent def is meant to remind us of Bevell and the Brits.

God Mary and John are obvious af that they suspect shit ... ffs kids!

Carlos continues to be the one that actually uncovers key info.

Aww, Carlos and Lata are so so kind and comforting with Roxy. I love them so much.

Im so proud of Roxy, but what I genuinely love about how the ep was written is that even if she'd have gone along with the erasing of her memory, it still would've been a valid way for her to move on. Like this it obviously works two fold in somewhat convincing Carlos they also should take a leap of faith that alls gonna be well with Anton, but its set up in such a way that regardless of Roxy's choice at the end, Roxy's own wellbeing was all that mattered however that looked. I can appreciate the nareative not ramming a specific interpretation down our throats.

Ah, yes, wartime decisions excusing the means... it nearly never actually applies tho, Jack. Tho I will say it's very satisfying having it be said to John who in SPN would use this exact rethoric for a while slew of shitty choices.

Now I wont get into the whole issue with the golem being used in this ep and specifically how they kill the golem - others have said far more better informed stuff on it (shoutout to @endofthebookpod fantastic episode discussion) and I do have a plethora of issues with it - what I do wanna say on the subject tho is that at leasr insofar as Jack is concerned it makes sense that he'd steal and use a golem for his own benefit (similar to how the nazi did in 8x13). The actual problem with this is how the writers chose to tackle dealing with the golem here. Because ultimately the golem is used as a weapon by Jack, just as all his lobotomised monsters were. But the ep chosing to not clarify a few things and deciding to burn the golem??? Not good fellas, not fucking good at all.

I do appreciate John's resilience in fighting the golem tho.

Like I said, the sexual assault parallel to possession is even more clear when discussion Mary's possession.

Gruesome death for Jack tho, I will say.

"Things we do for love"?!?! John Winchester I will murder you! If Mary doesnt do it first for u even suggesting that. I do apprwciate still seeing glimpses of SPN!John even now, 10 ep into it. Because for all that people can change, its very very hard to do so and its a slow process.

Thank you Mary for shutting it down immediately. High hopes that this low key promise they made here spells good things for their future. I do hope.

I also love that Lata explains why Roxy wanting to erase her traumatic memories isnt the same as Carlos avoiding dealing with his intimacy issues. But I also love that Carlos feels safe actually confiding in Lata, for all that they banter and shit talk they're each others person.

Perfect timing on the Tragic Haircut lady. Also yea, it def is a tragic haircut.

Noooo, Akrida!Kyle is here. Using Johns past against him is smart but also i need to read that file.

I will say, I never read Millie at the end as believing that John did anything like Ive seen in a couple of other places mentioned. I just saw it as her being a. Shocked about a dead body b. Shocked about John holding a dead body and c. The police being on her heels with john holding a dead body.

But that's all for today folks. Next up, ep 11. Slowly but surely making it through the show.