#I'm really fond of this design.... I had them in my head for weeks before

[chubsonthemoon]

Last Binderary book is DONE!!!! This is the incredible Maybe sprout wings, by @moorishflower.

This post is going to be a doozy, so gonna just skip straight to the cut!

INTERIOR

INTRODUCTION

I really wanted to model this bind after my own copy of the Odyssey, (which is all highlighted and bookmarked and annotated to hell from my Great Text courses in undergrad ehe, so this bind was such a fun trip down memory lane!). But beyond just the cover/general aesthetic, I also wanted to give the book a similar feel to these kinds of editions of classics--there's usually an introduction, translation notes, and other supplementary materials, right? Like, a physical manifestation of the work of many, many people, all having conversations with one another across time and space.

So that's what I did! I wrote a short introduction (I will also probably post it to my AO3/my blog as well, in the name of preservation etc. etc.) and began reaching out to folks in the fandom who I knew had created art and meta for the fic. The result? 18k words of analysis, comments, and meta, and nearly twenty pages of art!

And this is what I love most about this bind, I think! This book is the work of several people--truly a collaborative work by the fandom--all of whom I will now be shamelessly calling out below :D

CHAPTER HEADER ART

First and foremost, this book would not be what it is without the gorgeous header art by @fancy-rock-dove! Thank you so much Dove for letting include your work, and for being so supportive and kind these past few weeks about this bind <3 You in particular have contributed so much to this book (which I will be getting more into in the next section ehe), and I'm so psyched I get to hold your art and words, too!

NOTES ON THE TEXT

This section was divided into four parts: Asks and Answers, Meta, Selected Comments, and Chapter Heading Art: Process

For Asks and Answers, I trawled Heather's blog for meta she had written in response to questions and other meta about the fic. Asks came from @fancy-rock-dove, @quillingwords, @kulapti, and myself! (I THINK I got all of them--tumblr's search function is finnicky even on its best days, so so sorry if I missed something T_T) I first got hooked into reading this fic because of one of these asks, so I'm very fond of this section in particular :D

For Meta, I included two wonderful essays written by @pastrypuppy (also known as @kulapti) about Hob as an author figure and the Disrupted Fisher King narrative in MSW. Her analyses were so fascinating and I just had to include them in the book! (And thank you as well for your permission, friend!) (also hello fellow Renegade comrade 🫡)

For Selected Comments, I owe everything to (once again :3) @fancy-rock-dove, whose insights are the epitome of transformative fandom at work. I'd look for their comments after I read every chapter to see what their takes were on this or that element of the story, and every single time I would go "!!!!! I didn't even realize!!!" or "OOOOOOOH I hadn't thought of that!!" It was like being in a lecture hall and always whipping your head around when one of your classmates raised their hand, because you knew they were going to say something fascinating that you hadn't considered before.

Aside from one of my own comments, Dove's comments make up the entirety of this section (for which I owe you my life--your long-form responses to fics are a gift to this world) but GOSH was it also so much fun going through the comments section while typesetting and seeing all the keyboard smashing, yelling, and crying from the other commenters. Communal nature of storytelling and ongoing meaning-making of fanfiction, babey!

And finally for Chapter Heading Art: Process: once again Dove coming in clutch with some wonderful insights into the design of each of the chapter heading art pieces! This kind of stuff is honestly my favorite: meta about art for a fic which is, in turn, a transformation of an existing story (not even to mention that The Sandman is its own kind of fanfiction of existing mythologies and histories)--I just!! Think it's all really, really neat :'D (for more coherent/polished thoughts on this pls see my introduction asjdfkls)

ART

The art gallery!!! A million thanks to @fishfingersandscarves, @honeyseller, @jazzpsych, @doctor-rainbowfoxey, and (HI AGAIN DOVE) @fancy-rock-dove for granting me permission to include all of your beautiful pieces!

As usual for artworks in my binds, I printed each piece out on specialty photo paper to really make the colors pop, then sewed each page separately to the text block! Behold, everyone's beautiful beautiful pieces!

The art gallery also satisfies the certain "oooh shiny" part of my brain that always activates when I see pictures in a book, so am also very fond of this section :3

CONSTRUCTION

And now on to the nitty gritty stuff! I used the German Bradel binding technique again, my second time using it. Even though it's more complicated than the case bind, I really love how it gives you the full board space for the cover designs (~it's free real estate~). Keep it a secret but I kiiiiiiind of made a small goof in the last few steps (I did the turn-ins a step too early and so had to paste an extra sheet of cardstock to secure the spine to the boards, whoopsie), but it's a pretty small difference, aesthetically speaking, so it wasn't the end of the world XD

Edges are once again fake gilded, but this time I tried something new with the colors! I did two layers of acrylic paint--one watered down shade of red for the base, then one metallic gold on top of that. I really like the red/gold effect! I'll have to keep experimenting with this kind of layering:

ALSO. Y'ALL! I think I'm finally getting the hang of endbands!!! Many thanks to the folks at Renegade who hosted all the endband workshops last month--I'm still working through them, but even the few sessions I've seen have been TREMENDOUSLY helpful. I learned that tension is Very Important, as well as thread thickness, so I tried doubling my thread and keeping a Very Close Eye on how I was holding the threads while doing the beads. And behold! I still have a ways to go (and one day I would LOVE to do the fancier designs), but I'm v happy with the progress I've made so far!

And finally the covers!! ARCHIVAL MOD PODGE MY BELOVED. I printed on the same matte presentation paper that I used for the art, then did several coats of archival matte mod podge + a pass of gloss mod podge over the title strip to make it ~shiny~. Then once those had dried and I'd adhered them to the boards, I sprayed two layers of matte clear acrylic sealer (also mod podge!) to finish it off. I had some issues with the paper tearing when I handled it before it was fully dry, but luckily the blemishes were small enough that it was easy to do spot corrections with my black acrylic paint. And now I know to be more patient next time LOL

(some non-photoshoot shots that show the shine a little better!)

FINAL THOUGHTS

I had a lot of thoughts while I was binding this book--about Sandman fandom, about Dreamling fandom, about the Odyssey, about storytelling, about fanbinding, about Binderary, about Renegade, about my friends--but really what came to mind the most was gratitude!

Simply put, I'm so grateful to everyone I've met both in this fandom and throughout the years I've been active online--this is SO fun, y'all. It's so much fun to love stories together--to talk about them, to write them, and of course to bind them! I hope I've adequately conveyed that gratitude.

But of course, this book would not exist without the wonderful words of @moorishflower. Heather, thank you so, SO much for sharing your stories, thoughts, and time with us--it is always a happier, better day when I get an email notif from you and when I see you on my dash. I love your work so much, and I'm so happy I finally get to put it on my shelf! So thank you so much again, for everything <3

and OKAY THAT'S IT FROM ME FOLKS!!!!! Binderary 2023 is officially a wrap! I had SUCH a blast--will probably write up a reflection post on it uhhhh after I take a very long nap ajslkdfjslk _(:3」∠)_

all my love! <3

[reverie-starlight]

I need to get some blood work done and I hate the experience so much, so to make me feel better, here’s some kuroo fluff. I don’t wanna hear anything about how soft this is. I don’t respond well to tough love or logic at all when I'm anxious, I need the softness.

gn!reader, no physical description. tw: blood, needles, hospital/drs office setting. slight anxiety/panic. very fluffy, maybe a little bit TOO fluffy tbh. extremely self indulgent, but what else is new on this blog? lowercase intentional. @emmyrosee I recycled a couple ideas from that one kuroo ask I sent you a while back, I hope that's okay :')

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

“I can take the day off of work, I don’t mind.”

you sighed into your mug, one that the man sitting on the other side of the table had gifted you. it was halloween themed, and (very ironically, considering your current situation) had vampire fang designs all over it, many with blood dripping from them.

“I appreciate that, but I would never ask you to.”

kuroo slightly frowned. “you don’t have to ask me, baby, I’m offering.”

he watched as your own brow furrowed, resisting the urge to lean over and smooth it out with his thumb. he tried again. “I know how much you hate blood work. I don’t want you to have to deal with it alone.”

a feeling of guilt started bubbling in your stomach. “tetsu, that’s exactly it, though. I don’t like it, but I’m old enough now to be able to do it alone…” you paused and shook your head before editing your sentence. “I should be able to do it alone by now without spiraling.”

he sighed and gave you a sympathetic look. “baby, there’s no expiration date on fear, or a set age that you’re supposed to get over something by,” he took your hand and rubbed his thumb over it. “you’re scared, and that’s okay. as your fiancé, I’m not going to let you suffer through that alone.”

you took your bottom lip in between your teeth and mulled it over. he tried to hide a fond smile as he watched the wheels in your pretty head turn.

truthfully, he already booked that day off work. you didn’t know yet, but as soon as you had told him the date of your appointment, he had reserved that as a personal day on his schedule.

he’d never call you predictable, but when it came to things relating to your fears, he knew you needed some emotional support- whether you voiced it or not.

finally you looked up at him again with a hesitant, slightly guilty expression. “you really don’t mind taking time off work for this?”

he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles. “for you, my love? never.”

and a week later, on the day of your appointment, he did everything he could to prove it to you further.

your appointment wasn’t until noon, so he made sure to spend the entire morning pampering you, distracting you enough so that you didn’t even have time to let the anxiety build up.

any time he noticed a faraway look in your eyes, he’d lean over and kiss your face until you laughed, really making sure to exaggerate the noises to embarrass you a bit.

and you recognized his efforts to keep you in good spirits, trying to meet him halfway. usually when you had a big nerve wracking event approaching, you were used to isolating yourself and trying to calm down alone. pushing through and wishing you could stay in control of your anxieties long enough to get through it and beating yourself up when you couldn’t.

however, since meeting kuroo, you didn’t have to do that anymore. when you first got together, you rejected any help he tried to give you. but once he realized that you just weren’t used to people giving you the emotional support you needed… that you were used to the opposite- being shamed for those feelings, he was able to navigate things better.

and along the way you realized that letting someone in was much healthier for you. so in an effort to keep that up, you let him take the wheel, figuratively and literally.

on the way to the doctor’s office, he played music and purposefully sang along badly, all in an attempt to make your life a little easier.

and it worked, because your brain had completely rejected any thoughts of worrying about the bloodwork.

until you had to sit in the waiting room, that is.

he could feel the anxiety rolling off of you as you waited to be called, and despite everything, he couldn’t help but feel a bit useless. all he ever wanted to do for you at any given time was make sure that you were happy and stress-free. he felt his heart break a bit as he watched you try to keep a composed demeanor.

so he pressed gentle kisses to your temple and let you play with his fingers. he even clogged up his storage and downloaded a ton of games for you to play if you asked (he knew how fast games drained your phone’s battery, so he gladly sacrificed his).

but he could tell from your crumbling expression and bouncing leg that the nervous butterflies in your stomach were turning into something much bigger.

he noticed a nurse walking down the hall towards the waiting room and quickly whispered something in your ear.

you looked up at him with wide eyes, surprised at his words, which pulled a shocked laugh out of your mouth. “tetsu!” you whisper-yelled at him, not wanting to disrupt the other patients.

he just gave you a charmingly boyish grin in response, squeezing your hand when the nurse called your name.

she lead you both into a small room, and you started shaking a bit.

“please take your sweater off or roll up your sleeve.”

you did what she asked and kuroo settled beside you on the opposite side of the nurse, tracing the palm of your hand.

“oh my- you’re shaking! are you alright?” asked the nurse and you felt hot embarrassment shoot through your body on top of the anxiety.

“um, yeah, I’m okay,” you said quietly, obviously nervous. she seemed to understand and thankfully didn’t make a big deal about it, rather making conversation about other things as she cleaned your arm.

“is this your fiancé? I love your rings, and it’s so sweet that he came with you today… I wish my girlfriend was able to come with me to my appointments.”

you smiled politely at her, and tried not to watch too intently as she got her equipment ready. you didn’t notice the look she gave kuroo, or the nod he returned to her, understanding her secret message. distract them.

that was his plan all along- even if the nurse hadn’t told him to, he would have done everything in his power to get you to focus on him instead of the test.

once he felt you squeeze his hand out of fear and noticed the tears forming in your eyes as the nurse was talking to you about finding a vein, he gently cupped your cheek and prompted your face away.

“hi, pretty, just look at me okay?”

your lower lip wobbled as you nodded, wincing and screwing your eyes shut as you felt the nurse feeling your arm. “make a fist for me, please.”

your hand cooperated and you let out a small noise of discomfort as she got to work.

kuroo stroked your cheek comfortingly and smiled at you when you opened your eyes again. “have I told you that you look absolutely stunning today, baby? just jaw-dropping. incredibly gorgeous. so blinded by your beauty that I should actually be wearing sunglasses right now.”

if it were under any other circumstance, you would have scolded him for flirting with you in front of someone else so unabashedly, but in that moment you were honestly thankful for it. so you shook your head a little.

he gasped. “I haven’t? how awful of me, I’ll make sure to fix that right away.”

and so as the nurse continued to draw blood, with a small smile on her face as she listened to the near one sided conversation, your boyfriend made it his mission to throw every compliment under the sun at you.

"going back to our conversation last night, reason number three hundred and twenty six why I love you: you're so sweet, even if you're not trying to be. you're just a good person through and through, babe."

though it was mildly embarrassing to need a distraction of this intensity, listening to him talk was definitely having the desired effect on you. your eyes were still a bit teary, and your heart was beating fast, but the expression on your face told him that you weren't as focused on the test anymore.

the soft look in his eyes as he tried everything he could to help you was captivating.

he leaned over to give you a quick kiss on the cheek and you huffed in disapproval. he laughed. "don't get shy now, there's still six hundred and seventy four reasons left to get through. I can space them out if you need me to, though. wouldn't want to send your heart into overdrive or anything. I can feel your pulse, don't even try to deny it!"

you were about to respond with what was no doubt going to be an attempt at a snarky comeback, but then the nurse pulled the needle out and pressed a cotton ball over the puncture site. "you're all done! great job."

you blinked at the nurse in surprise and she just smiled in amusement before placing a band-aid on your arm and walking out of the room with the vial of blood.

as soon as she was gone, kuroo tilted your chin up to look at him again. he gave you a big, wide grin and you weren't sure if the lightheaded, dizziness you were experiencing was because of blood loss or affection for your fiancé.

and once you finally made it out of the doctor's office, back into the car, he immediately leaned over the console and pressed yet another flurry of kisses all over your face and neck.

you giggled at him and tried to shove his face away, but he didn't let you, and instead grabbed your hands in his. he slowed down just enough to leave a few lingering kisses on your lips, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles.

once he was done, he smiled fondly and stared into your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. his expression was as soft as his voice. "I'm so proud of you, baby, that went so well."

you smiled at him in return. "thank you, tetsu, you really helped me today... I'm glad you came with me."

he shook his head. "I told you, it's no problem at all. I'm happy I was able to make things a bit easier for you. Now..." he straightened up in the driver's seat and started the car, but not before giving you one last kiss. "let's get some food in you, and maybe a bit of orange juice, too. I read it's good after getting blood work done."

you nodded and stole one of his hands away from the wheel to hold in your lap. you placed your cheek against his now extended arm and sighed contently.

thinking about the day and how hard he tried to keep you happy and safe... how he did his absolute best to take care of you throughout your panic... there was never a time you couldn't feel the soft, gentle love radiating off of kuroo tetsurou. everything he did was with good intentions, all for you.

after a few minutes of comfortable silence, he felt a pair of eyes on him. at the next red light, he glanced down to see you craning your neck and staring at him with an unreadable expression.

he sent you a sly grin once he deciphered it. "...and maybe tonight, if you're feeling up for it, we can do what I mentioned in the waiting room."

you were one hundred percent certain that the dizziness from earlier wasn't from blood loss now.

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

I'm not so sure how I feel abt his characterization or dialogue in this one :/

kuroo usually comes easy for me (...that's what she said) (I'm so sorry, I'll leave) but idk, the writing feels a bit off with this one, so I might do some major edits over time... I don't hate it enough to not post though, so I hope you enjoyed!!!!

[imightgetbetter]

The Met Gala

hiiiiiiiii. welcome to rory and matty's universe. i'm actually really obsessed with their dynamic and their story and this is just kind of a taste of what they're like together (a publicity nightmare) and how they interact but also how much they love each other. we'll start getting into it closer to the summer (i'm going to start writing the whole story this month!!!!) and i'm really excited to know what you think. please be nice! if you don't like it, that's fine! i will still be writing love it if we made it, so if you like reader insert, you have that too. i am very excited for this, though. i love rory. she's so cool. i hope you enjoy. as always, leave your feedback and tell me what you think!!! love you all!!!!

Under the lights of the hotel vanity, Rory’s eyes are glittering in a metallic golden shine, a complimentary look to the flecks of gold that are embedded and sewn into the sheer overlay that adorns her body, her skin a shade darker after her most recent visit to an island meant to be home away from the gloomy city she lives in, a place to write her next album that Dirty Hit and Jamie were most patiently (rather impatiently, she would argue) awaiting. On her six-week stint in Capri, Rory received a call from none other than Anna Wintour herself, inviting her to the Met Gala for her very first major appearance on a star-studded carpet. Rory never quite liked the idea of The Met; The Grammys, The Brits, The Arias, even, have all seen Rory in her very best, but there was something about celebrities celebrating awful people in designer gowns that rubbed her the wrong way.

Her attitude towards being a celebrity was similar to that of Matty’s, something the two of them bonded over many times, something they shared in their experience being a couple under a microscope of sorts. Her attitude towards this event, and many others, usually leads to a polite decline and nothing more of it but knowing that this call had been approved through her manager first, and therefore was more of a ‘you’re going to do this’ rather than a ‘would you like to do this’ question, her reply was nothing short of a, “I would be delighted! Thank you so much for the invitation. May I bring a guest?”

And that brings everyone to this very moment, where Rory and Matty are dragging themselves kicking and screaming to The Met Gala.

“Do you think if I just ignore every interviewer on the carpet, I won’t have to say anything to anyone?” Rory shouts to Matty from the stool in front of the only window in the hotel room.

“Can you sit still for five seconds?” Kiara grumbles, rolling her eyes as Rory squints her eyes and purposefully moves her head. “You’re so difficult, you know that?”

“You’ve been telling me for ages,” she smiles, pursing her lips and sitting upright, letting her add the finishing touches to the makeup without any further issues. Matty and Jamie are talking in the bathroom, something about behaving and keeping his mouth shut, letting her do all the talking. Rory knows Matty isn’t going to abide by that very well. He’s never been one to keep his opinions to himself. It’s one of the things that she’s most fond of. “Love, how much longer do we have?”

“You’ve got,” Matty shouts back, checking his phone and stepping out into the hallway, his eyes immediately softening at the sight of her, “you’ve got about fifteen minutes, darling. You look stunning. Holy shit. You’ve outdone yourself, Keeks.”

“All in a day’s work,” Kiara smiles, kissing his cheek and setting all of the tools in her kit that’s splayed across the table in the corner. “It’s time for you to get dressed. You have to be downstairs in twelve minutes. Matty is, for once in your career, ready before you, which is actually kind of sad.”

“Hey! I didn’t want to be responsible for anyone getting held up. Jamie will have my head if we’re late for the shuttle over. Not to mention, I need a drink. Quickly.”

“How considerate of you, Matthew.” Rory takes Matty’s outstretched hands and stands from the wooden stool, her tightly curled hair falling over her shoulders. “Out you two, I’m going to get dressed and then we can head downstairs.”

“I see you naked all the time, I should be allowed to stay.”

“Out!” Rory says sternly, pointing towards the door and giving an encouraging nod to her boyfriend whose eyebrows are quirked on his forehead and his mouth is turned down, less than impressed with the demand. “Matty, seriously.”

Matty rolls his eyes, “Fine.” Grabbing his phone and a room key, he and Jamie step outside, the neatly pressed navy-blue suit and textured tie sitting perfectly around his neck, the pearls adhered to the collar of the suit jacket making for the perfect accessory. His hair is neatly combed, and the single grey strand is falling in his face, a detail that Rory will fawn over when they’re alone.

Rory and Kiara tape her chest accordingly, the baby blue textured and tweed suit buttoned seamlessly at the center of her abdomen, the pants sitting at her waist, hugging her sides in the perfect manner. Mattias June, an up-and-coming fashion student from the institute in London, knew exactly what she would want, what would look best on her, and the execution was exactly what they had hoped for. Rory and Matty were on theme without praising or recreating looks, which was what they aspired for and spoke about.

The last thing that Rory wanted was for her attendance to be misconstrued for ignorance.

Grabbing her sunglasses and the designed handbag, Rory stepped out of the hotel room and locked eyes with Matty, a smile spreading across his face at the sight of her. He simply would never get used to it, knowing that she was all his. Many years of secret pining led him to this, a luxury of living.

“Do not make a scene, you two,” Jamie warns as they walk through the hallways and head downstairs, the crowd outside the hotel already beginning to scream and shout with the murmurs of their names being said for the paparazzi outside. “Courteous and professional. Please.”

“I always am, Jamie.”

“I’m not worried about you, Aurora.”

Rory laughs and takes a deep breath, moments like this will never not be surreal. Matty and Jamie talk for a moment longer, but she’s in her head, preparing herself for the interviews that she doesn’t want to give and the answers she’ll have to. Despite her feelings about this, Rory recognizes the privilege and the honor it is to be here, to be able to go, to give someone’s fashion a chance to shine on the carpet. Rory would remember this for a lifetime, a moment that her art is so widely recognized that she’s walking amongst celebrities she’s watched and listened to for years on the same carpet. A one of a kind ‘I Made It’ moment to last forever.

One moment to last forever, mainly because Rory knows that she will never do this again.

“Are you ready, love?” Matty wonders, grabbing her hand and nodding towards the sea of people waiting outside for their debut.

“I’m neither drunk nor high enough for this,” Rory says honestly, shoving the sunglasses into her hair and tilting her head down ever so slightly to whisper into his ear, “I need six shots to make it through this carpet with all these fake pretentious celebrities.”

Matty laughs, “I will get you a shot as soon as we make it off the carpet.”

“Promise?”

“On my life.”

Rory accepts this compromise with a nod of her head, lacing their hands together and waving at Jamie (as he will be taking a separate car to the venue) and taking the first steps towards the walkway. Overwhelming amounts of flashing lights accompany their walk outside the hotel, screaming of their names as they walk to the bus and Matty lends out his hand to assist her inside (walking in heels is not her strong suit), the flashing subsiding when the door is shut behind them. Matty, Rory and the others inside the van make small talk, Rory holding the handbag facing her body to ensure that no one could directly read it right away. Mattias and Rory created what she felt would be a statement to make with this year’s theme, a statement that would surely keep her out of talks for returning events, but she didn’t really mind, as long as what she had to say was said.

Outside The Met, thousands of people are crowded around to see who’s outside, who’s wearing what, and who might come about. All Rory can think about is making it through the interviews, getting through the awkward part of the night and getting to the party, where she can sing and drink and talk with her favorite company. Matty holds out his hand for her when they step out of the van, making sure that she’s stable on her feet before they begin making their way towards the carpet. Calling cards are shouting out their names announcing their arrival, and the number of cameras that are flashing are enough to blind a person, Rory’s sure of it.

“I am too sober for this, right now,” Matty says through a tight-lipped smile, his hand wrapped around Rory’s waist, holding her close to him. He kisses her forehead, smiling at her as she agrees with him.

“Me too.”

Matty is tugged away for photos of himself, and Rory is whisked away to interviews with Vogue and Rolling Stone before she could properly prepare herself. Jamie opted Matty out of interviews – to save everyone the trouble – and Rory knew that she should be professional and diplomatic, but all she really wanted was to be honest.

“Hello! How are you? You look absolutely stunning,” the interviewer says warmly, and Rory can immediately feel the professionalism leave her body. “I love the handbag.”

“Thank you! Mattias June, who designed this whole look, he and I thought it would be a perfect touch,” Rory smiles, the sunglasses perched on her nose, only giving the slightest peak at the glittering makeup underneath. “I don’t really think we should be celebrating and honoring such horrible people, but what do I know? I’m not really a fashion trendsetter myself, you know? I’m doing this all for the plot. All for a good story.” Rory gestures down to the handbag held in front of her, the stitching on the side reading: STOP HONORING BAD PEOPLE.

Matty walks towards Rory, smiling brightly as she continues talking to the interview about what it means to be invited and how wonderful it is to be with the company of her friends at such a prestigious event. By the look on her face, Matty is sure that Rory said something that will get her in trouble tomorrow, but it’s something he admires about her, she’s never been short of determined to speak her mind. Rory steps off the platform and grabs Matty’s hand immediately, squeezing him as their fingers lace together and nodding towards the entrance of the building.

“Are you ready to get absolutely trashed with me? That’s the only way I’ll suffer through this intolerable event.”

“I thought you’d never ask, my darling.”

[acquariusgb]

Billary fic drabble advent calendar: Day 13

Day 13: Cozy (snuggling/cuddling)

Hillary was standing on the Truman balcony looking out to the horizon. It was a clear night and the stars were shining above the Washington monument which was looking majestic in the Washington skyline. 

“It really is a beautiful view, isn't it?”

She slightly jumped at the sound of his voice. She hadn't heard him come out. She kept looking ahead and she tightened her arms around her. 

“What are you doing out here all alone in the cold?” She then felt him wrapped his arms around her. She closed her eyes as.she leaned back against his chest and savored the warmth he brought. 

“Just reminiscing.”

Bill hummed and laid his chin on the top of her head. “I’ll miss it too.” He whispered. “It’s been a great run until it lasted.” 

In a couple of weeks George W. Bush would be sworn in as President and Bill and Hillary will have to leave the White House and start their new post-presidential life. Those eight years brought them joy and pain, they had their ups and downs, but no one will take away their place in history or their memories.

Hillary shivered when a gust of cold wind suddenly hit her. Bill held her even tighter. 

“Why don’t we go inside?” He kissed the top of her head and guided her in their bedroom.

Hillary saw that a fire was burning in the fireplace and immediately on the sofa. She patted the seat inviting her husband to join her. Bill didn’t have to be told twice, he sat on the sofa and Hillary curled up against him. He put an arm and she laid her head on his chest.

“This is nice.” He muttered against her hair.

She sighed and kissed the top of his chest. “It is.” She looked around. “Remember when we got here and there was that horrible wallpaper with Chinese birds.”

He chuckled. “I remember. Can’t say that we and the Reagans had the same taste in decor.” For Bill, that wallpaper really reminded him of an Alfred Hitchcock movie.

“Yeah. I wouldn’t mind having this wallpaper in our new bedroom.”

He agreed. They chose it together and he really grew fond of it. “And the mattress…” he added. “I wonder if we can take the mattress with us.”

She chuckled.

“You know? Even if we can be sad about this chapter of our lives ending, I'm really looking forward to our next one.”

She smiled at him. “Me too.”

“Senator Clinton.” he teased her again with her new designation.

She rolled her eyes.

He nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck. “Want to snuggle a bit more and make out with the President?” He said in his husky voice.

“Oh my… what will the Republicans say?” she said playfully. 

“Oh, I won't tell if you don't.” He caressed her back before kissing her.

[datastate]

9, 19 (even tho I know already ehe) aaaand 32 :3

9: do you have a "type"? if so, what is it?

i have felt romantic attraction three (3) times in my entire life, so i fear there isn't yet enough data for this to be conclusive... but i will say! i've never fallen for a blonde person, fiction or otherwise. which is more than my good sibling kid of streets fame can say <3

for a more serious response though, my standards are depressingly low & i feel it's a bit amusing that so few people have really been considered in my mind as actual candidates for a romantic relationship - even before i develop romantic attraction, i've sometimes tried to decide if it's worth pursuing based on a few different factors... though i'm shy to put the details of that here. romance has never been a very important part of my life, but in terms of wanting a long-lasting relationship, it is the most viable option for most who do experience romantic attraction more often than i, and i'd want to be prepared if the question does come.

& for all the jokes, aesthetic attraction plays a very little part in whether or not i'd want someone as my partner. many people pursue me based solely on appearances, and it's certainly made clear to me how shallow it feels to have that as a significant point of interest.

19: describe your fashion sense. do you "dress gayly"?

HOW RUDE...!! ...i may dress gayly, but that is BESIDES THE POINT!!

aheem. in any case. my wardrobe is primarily filled with reds, blacks, and dark purple/blue hues. i typically prefer clothing with a more formal feel to them, often long-sleeved, and i rarely go without wearing my gloves! i do have a few short-sleeved shirts which have fanciful designs on them or where the sleeve hangs nicely... i need to get a new vest, though. and i'd love to buy more skirts (or loose pants that hang like skirts)

in the past, i used to wear much simpler styles. jeans with a leather jacket, hoodie, or a flannel. i still have my first girlfriend's flannel in my closet bwehehe... it's been there for years.

but of course...! when i'm at home, i typically opt for what is the most comfortable, so i end up reusing the same few outfits if i know i'm not heading out that day :P it's usually simple formal black pants & whatever soft shirt i have around.

as many of my friends have claimed... i dress & speak as though i'm... "a victorian dandy" ... devastating.

32: tell a funny story about something really gay you've done.

haggardly lights my cigarette... 🚬

you've already heard the story of my first gf and i taking literal weeks to kiss each other on the mouth, during which we'd meet after school every day in a secluded spot between school walls, just in front of the student council room... so i shall choose another!

when i was a young dyke, see, there was this lovely girl (soon to discover. they're not a girl. but that's unrelated) i'd met during summer courses (to get academic credits early) and quickly grew fond of. we had a bit of a thing going on here, and they eventually invited me to the "anime club" (& book club + the origami club that they started up. but that's unimportant right now) since i stayed after school anyhow in the library to finish work/etc. and they wished to spend more time with me.

when i went to the anime club, it was primarily their friend group. i was extremely nervous of being the only one who didn't know them, especially as i'd transferred late to the school; but they quickly warmed up to me, and throughout the year, we all came to realize we were gay or trans in some manner.

one person's realization was. through her crush on me, which i somehow didn't realize i was the cause of when i saw her instagram & announcement she was bisexual & her sudden uptick in calling me "honey."

the time it actually registered for me that "oh! this is not just a joke about everyone in this club being gay girls!" was when we finished the final episode of death note. after discussing it, she said that she loved my words & picked me up, twirled me around, and carried me out of the classroom "bridal style" -- my friend stole some flowers from one of the planters to put in our hair when she finally set me down in the courtyard. i was so embarrassed, but it was very fun <3

anyway. dn is gay but not for the reason people think. it's because i permanently associate it with one of the most flustering moments of my entire life, during which i accidentally put my face in her tits multiple times 👍

[a-mag-a-day]

MAG 41 - apple cutting

So Prentiss happened 29th July, now it's the 2nd September, 5 weeks.

Martin giving Jon the ashes of Prentiss, so cute… Well, um, the thought counts!

"and the archive looks remarkably like it was never attacked at all. Unlike me." / "I’m told it’s unlikely the scars will ever truly fade" - The first of many more scars :´(

"but I don’t think the boredom was good for me." - I like the consistency of this. Jon doesn't like boredom. He didn't like it as a kid, he didn't like that about Bournemouth at all and he still doesn't like it.

"Martin wouldn’t hear of it. Almost threw me out of the archive. Is he hiding something? Heh. No, of course not. He’s probably just legitimately concerned for my health." - He says this with such fondness in his voice that I find it hard to believe sometimes, that JonMartin was NOT planned from the start. (I know, Martin's crush was planned from the start, but not them actually getting together.)

"It’s been a couple of weeks now. From before I was officially back. If you listen to this, Martin, I am sorry. I’ve gone behind your back to explore the tunnels on… several occasions." - see above.

"Then I came to the trapdoor. If Sasha hadn’t thought to clearly mark it with hazard tape, I’m not sure I would ever have found it again, but there it was. It took several minutes of fumbling before I was able to figure out how to lift the concealed handle and expose the lock" - So what do you think the trapdoor looks like? Does it just do a very good job at blending in with the other floorboards? It is in Jon's office, right? The Head Archivist office. Why? Was it already there when Gertrude got the job? Did she have the choice to make this room her office? Or did she somehow make the entrance to the tunnels herself, so she'd have a quick way to escape the Watcher's gaze? Leitner probably could have used the Seven Lamps of Architecture to get an entrance exactly to her office. Or maybe she had other ways, she and Dekkar really liked concrete, maybe they knew a few people in construction xD

"Have you ever left a crowded room, and literally felt the silence as you walked out into the night? It was something like that, a sudden, quiet absence." - Like when you feel being watched for hours on end and suddenly that weight is taken off your shoulders?

"I didn’t even have the excuse of the corridors all looking the same, as they varied significantly in height and construction." / "This place, it felt more organic in its unpredictability, as though it had been intended to be used, to be travelled, but had gotten twisted somehow." / "I found spaces that seemed intended as rooms, but without doors. Elsewhere, there were doors that seemed simply attached to the walls." - Like they have been shuffled around?

"I found myself wondering whether that was where Martin had found her." - Thinking quite a lot about Martin there, eh?

"Inside the circle, the stone was… wrong somehow. Solid, but oddly wavy, like chocolate that’s melted and then rehardened." - So even though the ritual never could have succeeded, it did at least something to their reality.

"I had done what research I could on Millbank. First proposed and designed in 1799 by Jeremy Bentham, a philosopher who wished to test his theories of the panopticon prison, where cells would be arranged in a circle around a single, central, guard tower, so all cells were observable at once." - First time Panopticon name drop! That is something which to this day I find one of the most remarkable uses of… basically anything that exists… for this story. I didn't even know what a panopticon was before that! And it fits so well with Beholding.

"That was when I heard the noises again. They could have been footsteps, I suppose, but if so they were soft, quiet. Was someone running around those tunnels barefoot?" - … I will send you the post in a separate ask^^ You know what I'm talking about, right?

"I am not a brave man. I believe I am starting to come to terms with that fact, but I am, in certain circumstances, a very stubborn one." - No don't say that, you are so very brave! T.T

"Only an empty wine bottle, the label all but rotted away, but the year was still legible as 2003. The passages here were more pronounced in their difference than the ones further up, some being so irregular and seamless as to almost seem organic, while others were almost unnervingly square and regular, with sharp angles and precisely laid bricks." - Okay hear me out, Jurgen Leitner home makeover show! Does it spark fear?

"I turned back, and immediately noticed that the wall opposite me was closer than it had been before. I took a step back in shock, and my feet hit the wall behind me. The passage was getting narrower, though I could not see any movement." - Effect of the Seven Lamps of Architecture

"I heard a single word, clear as day: “Leave.”" - Leitner returning from his nightly visit to the loo finding the stupid new Archivist standing in the middle of his bedroom…

At this point I don't know which of the two I find funnier, Jon or Leitner xD

Jon spending hours and hours of his time exploring the tunnels, preparing for the excursion, making a 20 minutes statement only then to go "Supplemental. I don’t care about the tunnels, or the secrets they might hide." You're lying to yourself and you know it!

"If you’re hearing this, I assume you’re my replacement, following my death or disappearance" - crying

"Trust can get you killed." - crying even more

Okay, so I was veeeery happy about the fact that this season would contain more story about the archival team aka the supplemental parts! The statements of course were cool, but they felt very distant to the story. They weren't directly endangering our characters here, or only on rare occasions and then it led to the story being focused of the archival team.

Jurgen Leitner being the sneaky mystery in the tunnels puts everything terrifying Jon is experiencing in such funny context I bet anything that Jon later on thought back to these scary memories and either face palmed or choked from laughter

[jezmmart]

Chamomile Comic Trivia #28

#146 - Really

This story arc was vaguely inspired by my job experience. I am A manager but not THE manager at my reluctant retail day job, but there's always something stupid happening and I've had to run the place for anywhere between a week to a month or two so many times over the years, so I had a few experiences to draw jokes out of.

#147 - My

Having said that, I feel no ownership or pride of authority, so this one is just fun with characters. In my head, the place that the customer goes to for buying something is just "the till" so I remember it took me a while to come up with, of all things, the words "service counter" - something for Layla to refer to that area by that didn't sound completely unnatural in dialogue.

#148 - Follow

Now this one IS very much based on my own experience going to management meetings and training days. Fleeting moments of inspiration in how to improve things and community with fellow management - followed by immediately getting slammed back down to earth by how hard the ideas would be to implement due to constantly stingy hours and how it's all just about making money in the end.

I remember once pointing out a hypocrisy in a company process during a training meeting. The trainer conceded to my point making sense then came to the conclusion of... "do it like we said anyway". Cool.

The fact that Layla is making notes and paying attention while veteran managers to her left and right doze off was also true to my experience, lmao.

#149 - Help

Very important lore drop here - the addition of the cute little staff only spiral staircase upstairs in the corner of the shop, which was a memorably fun thing to decide "I really want this in Cammie's shop, I'm always fascinated by them when I see them in a shop and ever since I was little always very upset I can't go up and down them" and then realise "right now I have to figure out how to draw that!!". I've checked the blurry backgrounds for the two comics where this corner of the shop was visible before and there wasn't any sign of it, so this is a very light retcon (those blurry backgrounds were very vague anyway though). A rare case of it being more sensible to draw the background in full since it was getting used for all 4 panels, so enjoy some uncensored spiral staircase:

I remember coming up with this joke when a Uni friend was visiting and we were just sort of riffing off each other with work related jokes or something, so this comic takes me back to fond memories of said visit generally!

If you look carefully you can see Layla has already performed her management teleportation spell in panel 3, behind the thief's open jacket.

#150 - Stop

The big 150! Well, it feels like a special number at this stage (250 also feels special, and then after that the 50s don't so much anymore for whatever reason). Either way I decided to do a quadruple lengther!

I haven't always followed this rule but I decided at this time at least, for extra-length comics, I still wanted each "page" to at least vaguely stand-up as a standalone comic too. In that context, the main purpose of going extra length is to keep the pace on a scene which I don't want dragging out across a whole month.

The spot Cammie runs by in this panel is the same one from comic #56, Cammie's footprints permanently a part of this street's history now. I know for sure these two extras in the foreground will show up in a few future comics when I couldn't be bothered to design new ones too.

The "helping the old ladies across the street" part of this chase is one of my favourite comedy scenes I've come up with over the years, I don't remember at all where it came from, I just enjoy it as a reader now, haha! I'm particularly proud his look back and Cammie's responding glare.

On the flipside I wish I could have come up with something a bit more meaningful than just "there is a dead end" to finish the chase but it's not really super important, the seagull joke is the point.

And now for something that hasn't come up in a Trivia post before - significant unused content!

For a short time I was thinking about following the above with a new arc dealing with an actual fallout from the shoplifting incident, with two comics scripted out. It's been years and I've never used or repurposed these so I think it's safe to share them. I reserve the right to still use a variance of these one day if it really feels right for another story though, not everyone reads these trivia posts, haha!

I'll let the scripts speak for themselves first.

Unused #151:

Unused #152:

From here the idea was that Bri and Cammie would have had a falling out for a little while (maybe a couple months worth of comics I was thinking) due to Bri, her dearest and most understanding friend, outright calling her stupid in the heat of her deep concern, sort of an expansion of the little moment where Vi genuinely hurt Cammie's feelings by referring to her "rampant idiocy" back in #59 / #62.

But as the deadline to begin work on the #151 approched I just wasn't coming up with anything I liked to follow that thread through, so in the end it didn't happen and we got... *flips page* a comic about Cammie putting a bucket on her head instead! Good stuff.

I still think canonically, Bri wouldn't have approved of Cammie's chase, but in this case she kept her frustrations to herself!

[Trivia Archive | Browse from most recent]

[dragonmasterhiccup]

She instantly tried to defend herself. “Now wait, hold on there— just because I said that a very select few of them were ‘kind of cool,’ doesn’t mean that I think all of them are. Probably like, eighty percent of them are beyond boring,” she retorted, rolling her eyes.

Her expression beamed, smile only growing wider. “That soon? That- that’s great, yeah! We can totally start then!” She was honestly just surprised he even had an ounce of open time at all this week; you’d think since his literal wedding was right around the corner, he’d be a lot busier than usual [if that was even possible].

Danny looked over at them when they landed next to her, her hands leaving Twilight. Twilight chittered, nuzzled Danny once more, and returned over by Valka. “What took you guys so long? Geez, felt like I was waiting for years,” she said, her voice laced with playful sarcasm.

Looking at Hiccup, she gestured towards his lack of prosthetic. “So like… you can just stand like that? No problem? Or do you- do you need a hand…?” she quickly offered.

Nodding, she made her way closer to the edge, looking down at the lagoon below them. Her voice was slightly elevated when she spoke, due to her close proximity to the loudness of the waterfall. “I think if no one cracks their skulls open on the way down, we’re good? Eh, probably.” She shrugged.

“Okay, I’m getting cold as f***, so I wanna get back in. Count of three, ready? One… two… three!” And with that, she jumped as far out as she could into the lagoon. Though unlike Astrid, who did a perfect dive, she just kind of… jumped, meaning that her landing was one again, pretty sloppy.

Hiccup grinned right back. "Great, it's a plan, then. We'll work in the forge on the metal components, but I have the tools for the leather working in my hut, so we can do that there. The leather will probably be the last step, though. The first will be to take some measurements, make sure it fits you comfortably."

Astrid turned to Danny. "Hiccup told me about your design, and I think I'd like one of those for myself, if you don't mind. I'm always looking for new ways to have the upper hand in combat."

The couple chuckled lightly. "Hey, we weren't that slow!" Hiccup wrapped an arm around Astrid as she helped him balance more steadily.

He shook his head. "No, I'm alright, thanks! I can get around somewhat without it, but not too well. I should be fine to jump off the edge, though." He smiled reassuringly, but had a glint of mischief.

"Not cracking our skulls is preferred, I actually am pretty fond of mine being intact, aren't you?" Hiccup grinned at Astrid as he spoke, and she laughed.

"Yes, Hiccup, I have to agree!"

They nodded, situating themselves on the edge of the cliff next to Danny. Hiccup unwrapped his arm from around Astrid, not wanting to mess up her jump.

On three, they jumped, Astrid doing another perfect dive. Hiccup tried to do the same as before, keeping his legs straight and arms pinned to his sides, but the trajectory was slightly off.

He landed in the water with a loud fwap! and resurfaced shortly. Thankfully, it didn't hurt much.

Astrid resurfaced as well, not far from Hiccup.

"We really need to come here more, Hiccup." A day off was long overdue for him, but Astrid didn't get many either.

[officerjennie]

the softest of treasures

CW: blowjob, semi-public sex, teasing, hair pulling

Summary: Geralt lets his fantasies win in the karaoke room

Taglist: at the bottom - let me know if you want on/off it

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8 || Story Masterlist

This was already posted on AO3, but it wasn't linked in this fic's masterlist so I'm just assuming I never posted it here. If I did, oops?

It was a foolish thing to hope, but the feeling was caught in Geralt’s throat.

Dating apps had been the bane of his existence ever since Lambert had forced him to download one. The fact that there was more than one out there just made him think too much on how outdated he was when it came to technology (something Lambert loved to tease him about, much to Geralt’s dismay), and figuring out how to use the one and only dating app he’d been forced to create an account on had been a waste of time. 

He hated it. Trying to write out thoughtful paragraphs about himself and his interests, posing for ‘sexy’ photos to slap up there, judging his ‘potential matches’ by their looks, age, gender and a quick sentence or two and then immediately swiping for yes or no.

It made him itch. He didn’t even want to be on the damn app, and now ‘local singles’ were judging him and thinking about sex with him. 

But now it wasn’t even the fucking app that was the issue.

Apparently , Lambert hadn’t been the only one plotting behind his back, and Eskel had happened to have a friend who was single. Jaskier, who Geralt had met a few times and had always felt tongue tied around - he wasn’t even sure he’d ever actually introduced himself, as a matter of fact, and the first message Jaskier had sent him just made him extra sure of that.

Jaskier had texted him. Out of the blue, with only a two minute head’s up from Eskel that read, and Geralt had memorized and could easily quote it, “Don’t freak out. Gave my friend your number. Don’t run this one off.”

That had been a week ago, and now Geralt was staring at the phone in his hand. Staring at the words he’d typed out while still in his sleeping pants, ones that were dotted with holes and faded out, no shirt on despite the fact that it was cold in his apartment.

His hands wanted to shake, and he wanted to send the message. Jaskier had sent a laughing emoji half an hour before - several, actually. He had a habit of sending strings of them - and he’d been laughing at Geralt’s dry humor again. They hadn’t exactly been talking nonstop the past week, but it was damn close to it. Good morning and goodnight texts, a few pictures here and there. Jaskier was fond of selfies with silly faces and Geralt hadn’t been complaining one bit over it.

But they’d hit it off so well. They got along so well . And Geralt hated to hope, but it had been over a year since his last relationship had fallen apart.

It was just a coffee date. Just a suggestion, Jaskier could even consider it a friend date . Geralt dropped his hand to his lap, holding his phone loosely while he stared up at the ceiling, searching the paint designs for answers. Could he really try again? Did he really have any sort of chance with him at all ?

He wasn’t...very good for anyone. Couldn’t ever give someone all they deserved. But fuck , he wanted, and Jaskier had such a brilliant smile and cute freckles dotting his nose. Geralt wanted to kiss them, and hold his hand, and wanted to watch crappy horror movies while cuddling up and pretending like the candles on his coffee table were a roaring fire that kept them warm.

With a deep breath, he picked his head up and peeked down at his phone. And then before he could stop himself, he quickly pressed send, tossing his phone aside and escaping off to the kitchen to ignore it - while straining his ears anyway for any sign that Jaskier had read it and responded.

Making coffee was just an excuse to keep his hands busy. And it was already past ten, so he had to do decaf if he wanted any chance of sleeping that night - so why the fuck had he suggested a lunch date at a coffee shop again? Geralt swore under his breath, tapping his fingers on the counter while waiting for the coffee to brew, not sure if he could stand being in the same apartment as his phone and also hardly able to stop himself from running over to check it.

He was a desperate idiot. He was just a man with a stupid crush. Also he was hungry, and his stupid feelings had gotten in the way of remembering to eat breakfast that morning.

By the time his coffee was done and he had a bagel with plain cream cheese on it, he was certain he’d fucked everything up and lost the only new friend he’d gained in the past five years. Still, he made a beeline for his phone, biting the bagel and holding it in his mouth while he unlocked the screen.

Jaskier had already sent him a message. Several, in fact. The first just several exclamation marks, the next an excited “yes yes YES!”, and then a few of him spewing about how much he loved the pastries there. Geralt’s heart was already beating fast, a smile trying to form at how excited Jaskier would get over the smallest of things, and then he reached the last message and he had to look away from his phone.

“So it’s a date then?”

Jaskier had ended the message with that emoji with the big, watery eyes. The one that reminded Geralt of a puppy. Made him imagine Jaskier was pouting cutely at his phone, trying to get what he wanted, and seeing it there made his palms sweat.

All Geralt could manage was a short “yes” back, and then watch as another string of emojis popped up. 

He wasn’t sure why he was setting himself up to fall. Geralt tugged the blanket off of the back of his sofa and wrapped himself up in it, falling over to his side, watching as Jaskier went off on another tangent of texts he could barely follow the string of thought for. 

It was going to hurt when Jaskier decided he wasn’t good enough for him, but Geralt couldn’t help it. He let his hopes soar.

-

Setting the date for the following weekend had been a mistake. Geralt had likely experienced levels of grief that professionals hadn’t even discovered yet, mourning his idiocy and future regrets and pain. Thinking himself into at least one full breakdown, and then half of one when he’d barely pulled himself together in the drive through while ordering some shitty coffee one morning. Work had been one disaster after another, and he was surprised no one had found him and told him off for suddenly not being so far ahead on his paperwork.

He was still waiting for someone to do just that. Lost in his thoughts and fears, lost in the jokes and tangents that Jaskier was still sending him. A jittery mess at his desk, unable to keep his leg still, forgetting lunch twice and having to grab some fast food that left his chest burning for the rest of the evening.

Thursday and Friday went, and by the time he was home he was an absolute wreck. Considered over and over just canceling in advance, telling Jaskier something had come up and he had to change plans. But then his phone would chime, and he’d get caught up in Jaskier’s messages, and the fear would give way just enough to hope that he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

That didn’t mean he managed to sleep much that night. Tossed and turned even more than usual, until his blanket was on the floor, his leg hanging off the side of his bed while he stared blankly up at the ceiling. Not even listening to his meditation audio helped, the voice droning on in his ears. Usually it helped calm him, and it at least gave him a distraction from his spiraling thoughts and the wet tracks that had trailed down his cheeks. 

But Saturday came, and he didn’t want to get out of bed.

He did though. When his phone buzzed next to his pillow, Geralt was fumbling for it before he even processed it. It would be Jaskier, who else would be texting him this early? Work and his family were the only ones who messaged him otherwise anyway, and Eskel and Lambert would have little need of him.

It was, of course, Jaskier. A long, drawn out good morning message, with far more Os than necessary. Geralt sighed back into his pillow with a smile touching his lips, considering how he might reply. Usually he just sent back ‘morning’ but, well...today was special, wasn’t it?

That made a bit of the horror creep back into his chest - what if he ruined it ? Ruined it before it even started? But, then...wouldn’t it be easier on the both of them if he did? That thought made him clutch his phone a bit tighter, staring blankly at the screen that had dimmed. Better to cut it off before it hurt them, before Jaskier learned how much of a disappointment he was. How he could never make him happy, give him what he wanted, what he deserved.

Maybe he really should call it off.

The tears were back, and Geralt hated them. Dropped his phone just to press the palms of his hand against his eyes, hoping to push them back and all of the pain with them.

Better to just get it over with. And he picked his phone back up to do just that, trying and failing to unlock the screen twice before he managed to bring up their conversation. 

Jaskier had already sent another message though. A picture, because of course it was, he was obsessed with selfies and posing. But this one felt different. More personal than the rest.

He wasn’t wearing some fancy outfit, out in the sunlight laughing or giving the camera a dashing grin. Wasn’t posing with his coffee or showing off the dessert he’d gotten at a nice cafe. He was rather mussed up. Still in bed, shirtless (though Geralt could only tell that because his shoulders were peeking out from beneath the blanket). Chin on his pillow as he stared up at his phone, face still scrunched up and sleepy. He’d just rolled over and taken a picture, not even fully awake, not dressed up like he so loved to be.

Not able to stop his treacherous thumbs, Geralt typed out ‘you’re cute’ before he could stop himself. It was sent and Geralt just stared at his phone again, staring at the lame words he’d sent the only person who had shown him so much as a modecrum of interest in what felt like a lifetime.

Jaskier was typing back almost as soon as he’d sent it, excitement evident by all of the extra exclamation marks he slapped at the end of his sentences. And any hope of cutting it off before it even started was out the window, because just like that he’d hooked himself into Geralt far too deep.

He had a couple of hours to be an absolute mess before he met up with Jaskier. Which meant a couple of hours to sit around and do nothing but text him and try to not panic. It was easier as long as Jaskier wasn’t busy, which conveniently he had nothing to do until their date. Nothing but to get ready, which he was apparently being rather finicky over - even moreso than usual. 

It was probably lame, but Geralt just picked one of his work outfits. A button-up, the sleeves rolled up to his elbow, though he skipped the slacks for a pair of jeans. That and with his hair tied back, he was as ready as he’d ever be.

The coffee shop was relatively close to where he lived. Close enough that Geralt decided to walk there instead of drive, to get him out of his apartment, give him plenty of time to regret his choices and also feel overwhelmed by the prospect of finally meeting him. As if he hadn’t met him before, like he hadn’t seen him plenty and heard him laugh from across the room.

Back then, he’d thought nothing of him. Hadn’t realized how easy their conversations would be, how each smile would make Geralt’s heart flutter stupidly in his chest. But here he was, walking to their first date, second and third guessing himself while knowing full well he couldn’t bring himself to stop and turn back now.

He was early by a half hour, but Jaskier had beaten him there. All Geralt could do was stand right in front of the door for a moment, panicked, because Jaskier was laughing. Head thrown back, his hair a purposeful mess that begged for fingers to run through it, a dimple on one of his cheeks as he spoke to the waiter that was taking his order. Everything about him was so alive , so bright despite the dreary sky and dullness of the afternoon, and Geralt wanted to tuck tail and run the other way because he’d just ruin everything.

But Jaskier caught sight of him, and the way his face lit up made Geralt’s chest ache . He practically bounced in his seat as he waved at him, and Geralt was weak, couldn’t help but be drawn right over to him.

“Hi.” Jaskier breathed the single, simple word as Geralt reached their table, fidgeting with one of the many rings he kept on his fingers. 

“Hi,” Geralt managed right back, standing there for a few moments, lost in how blue Jaskier’s eyes were. Pictures didn’t do their color justice, and Geralt had seen plenty of pictures of them. His photo gallery was filling up with the endless selfies Jaskier kept sending him, and a few scattered ones of himself that Jaskier had weaseled right back out of him.

Fuck. He was standing there blankly like an idiot. Geralt remembered how to move and slid into the seat across from him, far too late to seem casual. But Jaskier didn’t say anything of it, just continued to play with his rings, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips before a small laugh escaped him.

“You know, I thought through at least, at least , five different conversations with you? Kept thinking about what we might talk about when we finally did this and met up in person. And yet- yet here you are, and suddenly I’ve forgotten everything we’ve ever talked about.” Jaskier laughed again, pink spreading across his cheeks, and the way he looked at Geralt through his eyelashes was almost shy.

Geralt responded before he could even think through his words. “Never thought I’d see the day where you’d be speechless.” And just like that, he regretted even getting up that morning, because Jaskier was suddenly sputtering.

“Wha- well I- rude .” Jaskier made a few more starts of words and noises, blinking and gesturing with his wrist. “I’ll- I’ll have you know there’s plenty of times I don’t have anything to say. Plenty! Words are hard.”

He really wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so all he did was just look at Jaskier, propping his chin up in the palm of his hand and watching as he started to sputter some more. And then Jaskier’s nose was wrinkling adorably, and he nudged Geralt’s leg with his foot, biting back another grin that threatened to spread on his lips. 

“ Rude .” Jaskier flipped open the menu he’d had in front of him, “It’s really not my fault you’re so easy to talk to. If you didn’t want me rambling on, then you shouldn’t have been such a good listener. Your fault, you brought this on yourself.”

“Noted,” Geralt said, reaching for his own menu while Jaskier made yet another adorable, faux offended noise. 

The rest of the date went by in quips and laughter and easy banter. In some ways it was even easier than their messages, with Jaskier right there, with all of his expressions and never ending words. Geralt thought it was no wonder he used so many faces while texting, because Jaskier could go through the full range of emotions in one single sentence. Every single feeling right there at the end of his sleeve, open and so bright. 

It made it easy for Geralt to understand him. He’d always had a bit of difficulty with other’s emotions, figuring out what they needed from him, what they wanted him to just get without saying it flat out. But Jaskier felt so openly, and talked enough for the both of them, not forcing Geralt to say more than he felt like and doing his best to not talk over him either.

Still, it was a bit exhausting, something Geralt felt a bit guilty over thinking. By the end of their date he wanted nothing more than to curl up on his sofa with his headphones in, playing nothing, and just lay in silence for a while. Just to have a bit of peace and quiet after listening to so many words one right after the other - especially since he’d felt obligated to listen to each and every one of them.

“I had a really good time,” Jaskier said to him as they left the cafe together, a soft smile still on his lips, his eyes still crinkled at the edges from all the laughter. Geralt nodded and meant it, because he had too. “We can do it again? I mean, if you want - not specifically this again, just, you know. Date? Go out? See a movie, or have dinner, or stay in and eat shitty pizza until we regret ever ordering it?”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

How was Jaskier’s smile still so brilliant after he’d seen it their whole date? It was, though, and Geralt couldn’t help but think he’d love to see it every day. Would love to be the one to make him smile like that, and couldn’t believe he had been .

Jaskier hesitated over something, shifting his weight, and then he reached out and touched Geralt’s face and stole his breath away. His fingers were so light on his cheek, barely there, and they lingered but for a moment before they slipped away again.

“See you,” Jaskier said quietly, and then he added with a soft laugh, “I’ll text you when I’m home?”

And despite having spent two hours doing nothing but talking to him, Geralt couldn’t wait to hear from him again.

Maybe it was foolish to get his hopes up. Maybe it would hurt more this way. But fuck, Geralt’s heart couldn’t stop its fast pace even after he was home, after he was laying and staring up at the ceiling of his living room with his headphones in just so he could hear nothing but quiet .

It was stupid, foolish, inevitably painful. But Geralt wanted to try even if he’d ruin things eventually, and there wasn’t a person he wanted to try more with than the man who already had his phone buzzing away in his pocket.

--

@fontegagrilledcheese @damnbert @mothmanismyuncle @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @jaskierswolf @oldandkinky @blooodymoon  @kan0chan @silvermintnightprincess @flowercrown-bard @sharinalein @concussed-dragon @hayleynzlive @feral-jaskier @sweetiepieplum @stonedstargazer666 @deafeningnightcollection-things @luteandsword @kmuir1 @little-boats-on-a-lake @dani-dandelino @renewlucifer @rurousha

[perikiro]

werewolf adoptable made using @gatorstooth‘s base!! They’ve already been sold, but I wanted to post anyway because I’m happy with how this design turned out haha 🐺🌙💛

[incorrect-missionimpossible]

Uh I don't know if you're still taking prompts but I'm dying to read something where Ethan finds out Benji has tattoos (just likes Simon's) and Ethan is all ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡(ӦｖӦ｡) I even have some fanart in my blog or at Instagram @ biablioteca xoxo

hi!! thank you for the prompt :D this took me a while to answer, my apologies for that hhhhhhhh. the fanart is here if anyone wants to check it out, it's really good!!

without further ado, the fic, 1448 words long. enjoy!!

read on ao3!!

[---]

tattoos [that i didn't know you had]

“Hey,” Benji whispers. Ethan tilts his head towards Benji, acknowledging him. They’re curled up in the back of a van with Jane; Will’s driving and Ilsa’s sitting next to him. Jane is asleep on Ethan’s shoulder, the white bandages around her leg bright in the dim light of the van. They’re returning from a mission, a long, exhausting one and it required all of Ethan’s team, excluding Luther, who was on his honeymoon.

“I think I’ve been shot,” Benji tells Ethan quietly, and Ethan jerks up, all thoughts of sleep forgotten. Jane groans as he dislodges her.  

“What?” Ethan hisses. “Benji-”

Benji understands. “Bullet went through me. I’m bleeding quite a lot. Um, it was numb, but not anymore. I’ve got a cloth bunched up against it.”

Ethan knocks on the sliding door between the storage and driver’s seat. “Will,” he says loudly. Ilsa slides the door open and pokes her head through.

“What?”

“Benji’s been shot. Drive faster.”

Ilsa’s eyes widen; she’s clearly too tired to police her emotions. She nods and a moment later, the van moves faster with a screech.

---

Benji’s almost passed out by the time they reach the safe house. Ilsa helps her girlfriend limp inside the house, while Will rushes inside to get the first aid kit ready. Ethan half carries Benji, stumbling through the cold night air into the house as lights flicker on inside.

Jane’s collapsed on a chair, her face pale and sweaty. Her bandages need changing, and Ilsa notes Ethan’s glance at them before grabbing a pile of bandages and handing Jane a flask of whiskey she downs in a gulp.

Ethan winces as Benji moves away the bloody cloth he’d been clutching to his side, revealing his bloody flannel. It’s soaked through.

“How did it take you so long to tell me about this,” Ethan asks, concealing his anger.

Benji shrugs. “Jane was shot. Her wound was more lethal. Forgot about mine.”

“You forgot- how did you-” Ethan runs a hand through his hair, frustrated beyond measure. How did Benji just, forget about his fucking gunshot wound. Ethan wants to punch something.

Will enters the living room, carrying a tray with needles, thread, scissors and alcohol. “Remove your flannel,” he says testily. He looks harried, in a way Will rarely does.

Benji looks up at Ethan, and Ethan, helpless in the face of his eyes, removes the flannel gently. He blinks in surprise at what it reveals, Benji has tattoos.

Ethan stares at them as Will stitches Benji up, Benji’s hand crushing his. They twine around Benji’s left shoulder and the top of his arm, not going beyond where a shirt would. They’re designs Ethan can’t quite make out, but they’re gorgeous. There’s another on Benji’s collarbone, surrounding the delicate bone. It’s partially covered by Benji’s tank top, and Ethan shocks himself with how much he wants to see the rest of it, and any other tattoos Benji might be hiding.

“Done,” Will interrupts Ethan’s train of thought, and Benji lets go of Ethan’s hand, his head falling back, exposing the long line of his neck.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, and Ethan lets out a chuckle. “I’m never getting shot again.”

“I think that would be a bit difficult, with our line of work,” Will says, amused. He lets out a yawn, and so does Benji.

“Bed?” Ethan asks softly. Benji nods. Will takes his leave, heading up to the room he’s claimed as his own. Ilsa waves at them before picking up Jane, who’s too tired to protest, and climbing up the stairs.

Ethan presumes they’re heading to the second bedroom. He smiles at Ilsa and moves to the sofa, pulling it out and working on turning it to a bed. “I didn’t know you had tattoos,” he starts, keeping his voice as casual as he can.

Benji starts. “These little things?”

Ethan wouldn’t call them little, exactly, they cover Benji’s shoulder and collarbone, and there’s another one on Benji’s right arm. “Yeah.”

“I got them at Oxford,” Benji says, a light smile dancing on his face. “Stupid dare. Asked the artist to do them so they’d be covered by my t-shirts. Looks like he did his job pretty well, huh? The best spy in the IMF didn’t know I had tattoos.”

Ethan grins at Benji, enjoying the twinkle in his eyes. “Not my fault I’ve never seen you in anything but geeky shirts and flannels.”

“You just had to ask,” Benji says, careless as anything, before turning bright red. “I- not that I would just undress for anyone, I mean, like, it’s-”

Ethan pats Benji’s shoulder. “Benj,” he says warmly, and Benji stutters to a stop.

“Thanks,” Benji says, relaxing.

Ethan helps Benji up and into the bed, before sliding in next to him. “I think they’re cool,” he whispers.

A flush overtakes Benji’s face. “Thanks,” he replies, sounding pleased.

Ethan offers him a small smile, before leaning over to flick off the lights.

---

The second time Ethan sees Benji’s tattoos, they’re on a mission slash vacation in Costa Rica. Ethan’s team had been sent to track the movements of an American on the CIA’s Most Wanted list, but he’d left before they could catch him. The hotel they’d booked was for a week, and Ethan managed to coerce the IMF into allowing them to stay and make use of the money that went into the mission.

Jane and Ilsa had their own room, of course, and Will claimed a single for himself. Ethan and Benji had a double to themselves, with two queen sized beds.

“Heaven,” Benji groans, from his bed. He’s sprawled out on it, his shirt riding up a little, revealing a sliver of skin. Ethan swallows and looks away.

“I’m going to hit the beach,” he tells Benji, who makes some grunting noises, not moving from where he looks like he’s trying to bury himself in his bed.

Ethan chuckles and shakes his head, fond, before heading to the bathroom to change and gather his things. He leaves Benji, who’s curled up in a little ball on the bed, to his own devices, and thinks he deserves some sun and a good hour or two with his paperback.

---

Ethan’s about 40 pages into his book when he sees Benji. His eyes widen, and his mouth drops a little, because, well, wow.

Benji’s shirtless, and he’s built [which isn’t a shock, really; Ethan’s always been able to see the lines of his lean body under his tighter t-shirts], but it’s the tattoos that take his breath away.

They cover his entire torso and chest, curving around the muscles carefully. Ethan is pretty sure the tattoos are vines, and they look stunning in the sunlight, enhancing Benji’s build. Ethan is up and moving towards Benji without a second thought, and Benji grins at him.

“Hey,” he says, once Ethan is in earshot. Ethan doesn’t say anything, and Benji’s smile turns a little bemused. Ethan stops once he’s close enough to Benji that if he took one more step and leant forward a little-

Anyways.

His hands flutter around Benji’s skin, not touching, just, hovering. “Little?” Ethan breathes in disbelief.

Benji realizes Ethan’s looking at his tattoos. “Oh. Yeah. Those ones happened later. Took me about five sessions to get it done. Extraordinarily painful.”

Ethan exhales slowly. “Can I-” he moves his hands jerkily. He’s just understood how close to Benji he’s standing.

“Yeah,” Benji nods, studying Ethan with a small frown on his face.

Ethan touches the beginning of the first vine with a finger, and when Benji doesn’t say anything, he continues, tracing the path of the twining plant around Benji’s body. He’s careful, avoiding the scars and bruises. Ethan ends up on the design on his collarbone, and he looks up, into Benji’s eyes.

He can’t read them; he doesn’t know what Benji is going to do or say. Ethan moves to step back, but Benji whispers “Ethan,” and he stops.

Benji slides a hand under his chin [their height difference makes it easier for him to do that,] and tilts Ethan’s head up a little.

Ethan gives in to his impulses. He leans in, and presses his lips to Benji’s.

Benji kisses back immediately, sliding his hands around Ethan’s waist and closing the tiny distance between their bodies. Ethan gets a hand on Benji’s cheek and another pressed on his chest

Later, Ethan will trace the tattoos again, Benji will tell him the stories of how he got them, and Ethan will place a light kiss to all of them. They’ll share a queen-sized bed.

But for now, they stay there, kissing deeply, the sun burning the back of Ethan’s neck.

[---]

yes i KNOW the ending isnt very great hjfhkjshdsjk but here u go anyways :)

thanks for reading!!

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 17

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

One of the advantages of being a photographer — or a self-taught photographer in your case — is having the ability to acquire an eidetic memory. You remembered the hat that the little bitch (a four-year old) was wearing when she pushed you off the swings in daycare, or the little stain on your father's doctor's lab coat when your family had to rush him to the hospital, or what Peter was wearing the day you guys first met (some oversized flannel he borrowed from Bucky), or the look on your ex-boyfriend's face when you punched him in the face for cheating on you.

The attention to every pretty little detail is, and always will be, a must, and so not remembering where you had seen Bucky before killed you, or rather, was killing you.

It was a normal morning, well, better than your normal mornings to say the least, with Bucky spending the night in your bed. This time, you woke up first, all wrapped in nothing but sheets and Bucky's arms just like yesterday. You rolled over to his side and admired him in his sleep. Then, sudden flashes of Bucky's face from before flooded your memory. You didn't know when exactly was before. It felt like a kind of a deja vu moment.

While eating Bucky's homemade breakfast, in your mind, you listed all the possible places where you could've seen him before: a café, a bar you once went to in college, a bookstore, a museum, a convivial gathering, a convenience store, and any other places you could've bumped into him.

The morning grew unusually quiet and clouded, eliciting concern from Bucky.

"You seem awfully quiet this morning." He observed. "Are you alright, doll?"

"Y-yes, I am."

"Uh-oh, was the sex not great last night?" He joked, nudging his elbow against yours.

You shook your head, trying to smile a little. Thankful that Bucky was trying to keep everything light. "No, no, it was great. You were great. It's just... I'm just quite anxious for today."

Today, you were going to Sam's office and to his store on Fifth Street, to discuss the details about the project. It wasn't what you had in your mind this morning but as you told Bucky about it, you realized you really were getting a bit nervous about the meeting. It was a big deal, after all.

Sam's business, The Falcons, was getting more recognition than you thought. He was now in near competition with Nike and Adidas, especially with the rumors of him releasing brand-new footwear, that could — and you quote one of the articles you read while on break — “overthrow the big leagues.” That alone, already put you in the spotlight. So, whatever you put out there should only be a success, and not a flop; because if it were a failure, you wouldn't only be humiliating yourself, but Bucky as well.

"You're gonna do great!" He assured you. "Plus, it's just a meeting. You two already seem to have a grasp on the project, anyway."

"Yeah." You sighed. "You're right."

You wanted to ask Bucky if you had ever, ever, met each other before — perhaps during a party where you’ve rescued Peter before? — but you bit your tongue to stop yourself. You already did when you met, anyway. And everything was going great between the two of you — whatever the hell this was; besides, labels are overrated nowadays — and you didn't want to say anything or do anything that could potentially ruin it. You were beyond happy in your little bubble, and you could tell Bucky was, too.

You brushed all those thoughts at the back of your mind as you and Bucky strolled through Sam's building's hallways, ironically telling yourself it was all just in your head, that you were just quite edgy about this damn meeting, that you were just thinking about Bucky all the damn time; and the more you told these things to yourself, the more you believed it, and the more you hoped you would never have these thoughts again.

Today, you wore something a bit different than what you usually wore down at the bar. A blazer and pants set, adorned with black and white stripes, a tube top inside, and a white belt that kept the blazer on your sides. You got the set when you and Bucky were out shopping on Monday, of course, Bucky paid for it no matter how many times you refused. Your hair was let down, all the ends flowing down your shoulders until the bottom of your breasts. Lips painted bright red (which Bucky really, really liked). A bit of shimmer on your eyelids as well.

Today was a huge deal and you wanted to look your best.

Bucky kept his hand on the small of your back the whole time you walked, giving a sense of comfort and familiarity you now learned to be fond of. He told the story of how he met Sam (at a bar, where else?), how he had seen him grow in the industry (all the ups and downs), and also how they've always supported each other — the three of them.

"Wait, the three of you?" You asked. "There's another one?"

Bucky almost wanted to stop in his tracks but decided against it. He avoided your gaze, his eyes straight down the hallway. "Yes, but we've fallen apart." He said. "He has his own thing now. Anyway, let's not talk about it. We have more important things to deal with today."

Before you could even ask what the name of this third friend was, Sam appeared at the end of the hallway, with his arms wide open, like a king opening his arms to his heir. Bucky, without leaving your side, proceeded to hug Sam only using his free arm, "Hey, man," he said, and retreated back afterwards.

On the other hand, you shook Sam's hand and gave him a smile.

"Hi, Sam." You greeted. "Nice to see you again."

"You too... y/n." Sam replied, hiding a smirk you knew he was itching to show, hiding the fact that he wanted to mock Bucky by calling you "babydoll."

"You guys made it in time." He said. "Come with me to the conference hall."

Sam led you to his right where a white long table stood in the middle with a bunch of vacant office chairs around. A projector sat on the center of the table, a series of displays of sports apparel lying around, perfectly organized by color. A blonde woman had her back on you, flipping papers on a clipboard. Once she heard you come in, she swiveled around and put the clipboard on the table.

"Y/n, this is Sharon Carter, my assistant and the project manager assigned for this new release." Sam spoke. "She knows everything there is to know about how my business works, all the ins and outs. And if in any case I won't be around, you can always rely on her."

"Hi, nice to meet you." You said.

Sharon Carter, instead of answering verbally, just offered you a smile and a small nod. Her gaze shifted towards Bucky, and then Sam. "Mr. Wilson, does he need to be here?"

"Always a pleasure to see you, Sharon." Bucky chuckled.

Sharon ignored him and continued to talk to Sam; well, tried to. "All the details in today's meeting are confidential and he — "

"He's good, Sharon." Sam cut her off. "I doubt he'll be interested in this, anyway. He's just here for his... doll." Sam chortled and Bucky winked and clicked his tongue in response. "Besides, he's the one who introduced me to y/n."

Sharon sighed in defeat and tried to smile at her boss. "Very well then."

"Please, take a seat." Sam offered, leading you towards the vacant chairs.

While walking towards the chairs, Bucky bent over on your side and whispered: "Don't worry, she's usually like that" which gave you relief.

"Good," you whispered back, "for a moment there, I thought she hated my guts."

"To be fair, she usually hates everyone's guts. Especially mine." Then, he placed a small kiss on your temple before pulling out a chair for you. "You'll do great, doll."

"Alright," Sharon started, glaring at Bucky, "shall we begin?"

The meeting lasted longer than you had liked it to be, and for a little while, it suddenly became an understanding of the difference between working with small, independent businesses and big businesses such as Sam's. Usually, you had a lot of artistic upper hand when it came to the small ones, seeing as they were still starting — and it was also where your college degree came in handy. You would talk to them about advertising, and marketing strategies through product photography. And that was that. But Sam's business already had something to start with.

Something already big.

In the middle of the presentation, Bucky reached for your hand under the table (which took you by surprise), hooking his pinky into yours.

"Just hold my pinky like this if this is too overwhelming for you." He whispered.

"Why the pinky?"

He just shrugged in response, a smile playing on his lips.

Sharon walked you all the way through it, careful not to miss any kind of detail, small or big: from the moment the business started (Sam working in retail, then reselling clothes, then making streetwear designs of his own until he landed on sporting apparels), and to what made the business grow what it is right now.

"Inclusivity." She continued, clicking on the next slide, "This is what The Falcons is going to be all about. Plus-size workout clothes, a huge array of colors suited for every skin tone — literally any color you can think of. We also have workout clothes and streetwear in one which means new designs and new materials. And of course, the new footwear. Bringing the light in speed, bringing new comfort, a new aesthetic, footwear for all. Again, inclusivity. Right in front of you," she pointed to all the sports apparel lying on the table, "are the new designs. We just received the first batch yesterday and we're expecting the second and last one hopefully this weekend just in time for the photoshoots any day next week."

"Me and the marketing team haven't actually discussed the photoshoot details, but they've had that with Sharon, seeing as she's the project head. All I have to do is approve it," Sam said, looking at you, "with you here, of course."

You nodded in agreement, then looked at Sharon. "Will we discuss, perhaps, half of it today?"

"Oh, I can discuss all of it." Sharon smugly replied. "I have a very promising proposal right here." She clicked the next slide, showing photos of various known models. "Let's start with the models. The new faces of the Falcons — "

"Hi, sorry. Can I weigh in on this one?" You interrupted as you scanned the faces of the models in front.

"I haven't finished yet."

You looked at Sam, who had his finger on his chin (assessing the situation), pleading with him with your eyes. "Go ahead, y/n." He said, nodding.

"Thank you, Sam." You replied then went back to the screen. "If I'm not mistaken, that's Kendall Jenner."

"Yes, it is."

"That's not exactly a new face." You argued. "And isn't she already an ambassador for Adidas?"

"It is a new face of The Falcons." She answered. "And she's actually ending her contract with Adidas. Something about breach of contract or some sort that I cannot legally discuss with outsiders."

"Where are the plus-size models?" You asked.

"I was actually getting to it." She clicked the next slide.

"Ashley Graham?"

"Yes, her. She's the perfect candidate."

You bit your lip, leaning forward on the table and unhooking your pinky with Bucky's. "Look, all of these models are gorgeous and handsome and good models but they're faces you see every single day on billboards — "

"Exactly. They're faces you see every single day." She repeated. "That means that these faces sell. And that's what we want for this release."

"I thought what you wanted was inclusivity." You frowned. "We should get people who are real athletes and models from different races, colors, and sizes. Real people, not these people you see every day on your phone or everywhere you go. These models are overrated, anyways." You faced Sam, who was listening intently. "Let's not get faces but stories instead. I believe that's what will separate The Falcons from these huge brands. It's a new release, right? Might as well make everything new."

Your words hung in the air, rendering the whole conference room quiet. Until Sharon broke it off. "Business doesn't work that way. I went to business school. I know how the system works."

You chuckled. "I majored in business and finance. Trust me, I know everything there is to know about business, not just you."

She was dumbfounded but tried to hide it, anyway. "But this is my proposal. You don't have a say on who we should get. You don't work for The Falcons."

"I know." You sighed. "But I'm working with you, and I have a say in this as much as you do." You glanced at Sam who was deep in thought. "But of course, Sam will always have the last say."

You leaned back in your chair, your chest heaving. With your eyes straight ahead, you grabbed Bucky's hand and hooked your pinky with his.

"Sharon," Sam started, "that was an excellent presentation and I humbly appreciate it but y/n does have a point. I wouldn't want these people representing The Falcons. I want people like me, people with stories to tell. Inclusivity isn't a marketing strategy, or a statement. It's what I believe in. And you," he swiveled his chair in your direction, "made a good case out of it."

You broke out in a smile, glancing at Bucky who also did the same. He now intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand three times.

"Sharon, find new models and athletes and have their profiles by next week. Let's think of it like... Kind of like a casting call." Sam said, standing up. "Now, let's dismiss this meeting 'cause I am starving."

-

"You have got to get a new assistant, Sam." Bucky groaned as you got inside Bucky's limo. You had lunch at some fancy restaurant in Manhattan before Sam showed you around the main store down Fifth Street.

You laughed, greeting Howard who gave you a smile through the rearview mirror. "She's the best assistant I could ever get."

"Please." Bucky said. "You could have better. She's just, ugh, I don't know, what's the word for someone who thinks she's better than everyone else in the room? Who hates practically everyone but goes to great, great lengths just to kiss your ass — "

"Alright, alright!" Sam cut him off, laughing. "I get it, man. But y'know I can't afford to lose her. It took me months to get a loyal and honest assistant."

"Ugh, fine."

"You just want her out because you're protecting your little babydoll."

"Jesus, Sam." Bucky said. "Stop calling her that."

"Yeah, stop calling me that." You frowned, leaning on Bucky's side and wrapping your hand around his muscular arm. "Only he gets to call me that."

"You guys make me sick." Sam joked.

You turned towards Bucky who had the end of his eyes, crinkled, and nose, scrunched. "Hey," you said, grabbing his attention, "did you get a text from Parker last night?"

His expression became relaxed, and looked at you. "Yes, actually. Something about a kid named Schmidt."

You chuckled. "Yeah, he's kind of a bully. Remind me to beat his ass when he comes to the bar. You won't miss him. He's got way too much gel in his hair, and too much of a know-it-all, kind of like, Ross Geller."

"Oh, I'd like to watch you beat someone up." Sam nodded, smirking. "You know what, I'd pay you to punch Parker."

"Oh come on, Sam." Bucky laughed.

"Nah, I'm kidding. I love that little kid. Speaking of Peter," Sam cleared his throat, "what are you guys gonna do when he gets back?"

You and Bucky fell silent, hooking your pinky with his once more. "We, uh," you glanced at Bucky who had his eyes on his shoes, "we haven't talked about it yet. But we will tell him, that's for sure. Right, James?"

His eyes shot up to yours, then at Sam. "Yes, yes, of course. I mean it's Peter. Of course, we'll tell him. Just not right away."

"What do you mean not right away?" You frowned.

"Well, we can't flat out tell the guy we're dating the moment he comes back. I don't want him to have a heart attack." Then, he bent down a little, leveling his mouth on your ear. "We are dating, right?"

"Well, we haven't talked about it and we're certainly not talking about it in front of Sam." You replied, glancing at Sam who was just staring at the both of you.

"We're here, Mr. Barnes." The partition pulled open, revealing Howard's voice. The three of you got out of the limo, the bar right just right in front. Before we even got to enter the bar, Sam tapped your shoulder and called out to Bucky.

"Do you mind if I borrow your girl for a moment? I'll just have to discuss something work-related."

Bucky turned around and glanced at the both of us. "Yes, sure." He pecked you on the lips then turned around to enter the bar.

"This is actually about Bucky." Sam said.

"Oh." You said. "Okay. What about Bucky?"

"I have to say, I haven't seen him that happy."

"Uh, isn't that supposed to be a good thing?"

"It is, it is! And I'm glad he has you."

"But?"

He sighed. "But just be careful with him. Look, y/n, he's a good guy and all; we're practically brothers... But he's a child. I've known him since we were teenagers. He's almost forty and not once has he had a serious relationship."

"What are you trying to say, Sam?"

"You've only known him for, what, a couple of weeks? Don't you think this is going a little too fast?"

"I like Bucky." You replied. "I genuinely do and what we do or how we do is honestly none of your business. It doesn't matter how long I've known him. I appreciate you looking out for Bucky, but Bucky's an adult. We're all adults here. We can handle ourselves."

"Just promise me one thing."

"Sure."

"Don't hurt my friend." He said. "He may act like this rich bitch just parading around town, getting by with his manly looks and shit, but he's a child. He doesn't know what he wants. If you hurt him, you'll also end up hurting yourself. So, be careful, alright? Think this through, and talk with him."

Silence.

"Promise me, y/n."

You nodded. "Yeah, I promise."

"Good. Now let's head in there, I need a drink."

"Wait, Sam." You said, making Sam stop in his tracks. "Do you think Bucky likes me as much as I do?"

"I can't say for sure." Sam replied before walking inside.

You leaned your back against the brick wall, hitting the back of your head. You closed your eyes, letting all your thoughts rush in.

Still feeling a little bit light-headed, you went inside (which was still empty except for Nat, Sam, and Bucky) and as soon as Nat's eyes landed on your figure, she whistled. "Oh wow, Mrs. Fancypants!"

You chuckled, removing your blazer, revealing the tight black tube top as it was getting a bit hot. "Shut up, Nat."

"Woah, somebody call the fire department 'cause it's getting hoooot in here!" Nat continued then tilted her head towards Bucky. "Hey big guy, if you're not gonna hit that, I will."

You rolled your eyes, chucking the blazer to her face. You turned to Bucky who was sitting in the usual booth with Sam. "She said the same thing to me about you."

"Don't expose me like that, y/n. Not. Cool."

You giggled, sliding in the booth and greeting Bucky with a kiss on the cheek. "Hey, you."

"Hey, doll." He smiled, placing his hand on your thigh and pulling you closer. "We were just talking about you."

You glanced at Sam, who was smiling at you. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "Don't worry, it's all good. And, y/n... That thing we talked about earlier."

"What about it?" You asked.

"We're good." He answered. "And to answer that last question, he does."

You beamed. "Really? He does?" You asked, as if Bucky wasn't even in the room.

"Yes, he really does."

"Hey, what are you guys talking about?" Bucky asked out of curiosity.

You glanced at Sam, smiling, "Oh, just this model I want for the shoot," and then you looked back at Bucky, "I was kind of having doubts for a hot minute over there about him, but, everything's fine. Everything's good."

"Good." He kissed your temple softly, making your heart flutter. "It should be."

[oksana-moods]

Supernova

Summary: As the seasons passes you by, it is inevitable for you to watch the fall.

A/N: This is an AU requested by the darling @multi-muse-transect and you might find it in here. This request filled me with joy and worries at the same time, because it was hard to create a visible story in my head before trying to write it down. But I really enjoyed all the research about Nova Corps, hence it took me a little more than intended.

Warnings: Language, marvel’s canon violence… if there is any other that I should mention, please, let me know.

“You take my breath away. You're a supernova and I'm a space bound rocket ship and your heart's the moon.”

#not my pic

Carol is at a window looking at the sculptures and other buildings of Hala, she’s just arrived from a mission against Kree insurgents. ‘They're like weeds’, she thinks. No matter how hard she fights or fights back, they always come back and never learn that against the Empress they will never succeed.

The lights are beautiful in Hala, but they will never compare to the lights of the Old Earth. She takes a look at the latest reports of her home planet's reconstruction on the table beside her and sighs, knowing that New Earth will soon be ready.

Years ago, Ronan attacked Earth with the intention of destroying Carol and he did, in fact, destroy her heart. Even though she could absorb and redirect energy, she failed to destroy all the missiles before they hit the ground and then it was over. And the beginning at the same time.

Completely possessed by the grief of losing her home and loved ones, Carol went hunting for the Kree and, more importantly, for the Supreme Intelligence and, one by one, Carol brought down her tormentors until she became the Empress of Kree, residing in Hala.

Her patrols to different galaxies have been reduced as she monitors the Kree group responsible for rebuilding the Earth, chases mutineers and still rules the Empire. Her Empire. There's not even time for karaoke, she thinks, as her eyes follows a shooting star across the night sky of her capital.

Her eyes narrow when said shooting star seems to take a route, rather than a random path, because it is a celestial body without navigation. This shooting star is, in fact, very different, she observes. And, almost a second late, she notices that someone is heading right for her.

Taking her by surprise, you hit the balcony glass as if it were nothing and saw Carol's body hurl against the wall with the impact of your body. Not even spending a breath, it's your turn to be hurled against the wall when Carol fights back even harder than you.

You fight, exchange punches and blows. You notice that she's slightly surprised to find a worthy opponent, something that's still unheard of. Until today. Until you.

And that intrigues her, how could someone be so powerful without her knowing?

"Did the Kree insurgents send you?" She asks after you collide on Hala’s sky, the noise and vibrations being felt even in buildings far away from the fight.

"No." You answer. “I was sent by Nova Prime to deal with you” You barely finish your sentence, and you attack Carol again, but she's confused. She had heard of Nova Prime when she was still a Kree soldier. When she fought for the wrong side.

She then looks at you once more. She takes in the clothes you're wearing and your helmet, which covers your eyes with a blueish light but leaves your chin bare. The symbol that resembles a star painted in red on your golden helmet indicated what you are. Nova Corp. You are a corpsman.

A bright, gold insignia in a form of three circles linked in your chest shines even in the dark, showing her that you’re not an ordinary corpsman, but a Centurion. You are Nova Corps’ Commander. Okay, that explain why you’re so powerful.

"What do you want with me?" She asks without the slightest pretension to continue fighting and for the first time you don't attack, you stop and look at her. Wow, the reports of her strength and agility were consistent with what you see, but there was nothing about her beauty. Shaking your head, you answer it.

"Justice." Seeing the confused expression on Carol's perfect face, you continue. "You are crushing the democracy that existed for the inhabitants of this planet, the countless reports of an empress overthrowing entire communities have crossed galaxies."

"Justice, you say." You see her eyes flash with anger and hatred. "And what justice does Nova Prime intend to give Earth?" She approaches dangerously and you have to remind yourself to not cower under her glare.

"The Kree have destroyed my home, so I won't give them one until the New Earth is rebuilt and populated." The threat in her gaze, in her posture, was tangible. "And nothing and no one in the universe will make me concede freedom to this barbaric species."

"Being a barbarian yourself?" You turn your head to the side in a questioning tone, but she takes it as irony. Maybe it was. “An eye for an eye, as earthlings are fond of saying. Or should I say, used to like?” A kind of roar was the only warning before her fist collided with your face.

"Wash your mouth before you talk about Earth, soldier." She patched up a string of blows you couldn't get out of. "Nova Empire has always fought the Kree, why they want to protect them now?"

She was strong; you've already figured that out, but like many other very powerful beings in the universe, they tend to think they're the only ones with powers. Absorbing most of the blows and directing the energy against the empress, you use your power blast and with that, once again, Carol is hurled against the wall of her palace.

As an automatic response, Carol uses the powers of her fist and you feel the force of a thousand cannons throwing you backwards into space, grunting right after with the impact of Carol's body, engaging the fight once more.

You could tell that she was angry and, according to your studies, humans tended to be guided by such frivolous feelings. And that was something you intended to use to your advantage.

Being two beings bestowed with stamina, the fight would go on for hours until someone got tired, but if she uses her powers erratically and drenched in rage, she will be drained quicklier.

“I am the Empress of the Kree Empire! Answer me!" The tone of voice in which she addresses you makes it clear that your goal of getting under her skin is working. With a smirk, you respond.

“Nova Empire takes care of the galaxy and has balance as its main goal, your highness. To overpower other species is not our intention.” Your response seems to enrage her even more and the only reaction you got from her was more blows and more blasts in your direction.

You dodge, you block, and you realize she's getting careless then letting her guard down. And that's where you come in with quick jabs almost powerless, only to enrage her more and more. Just to remind her that even an Empress has weaknesses.

You hit the ground and certainly the people throughout the city felt like it was an earthquake. Something was off and before you could react, Carol hits you with a blast right in the middle of the chest, throwing you meters and meters into a random building.

This time, you start feeling the impact on every wall you hit. You feel dizzy, your hand is shaking, and you find yourself bleeding. ‘What's going on?’ You think as you watch Carol's figure to grow in your field of vision.

The smirk on her face is ridiculously sexy, but you barely have time to make any comments before her voice reaches your ears. "Apparently, you're not that tough without your helmet on, are you?"

You look at her hand that is carrying what was once your helmet, now just broken shards and she drops it into your lap. Without your helmet you are ruined, as is your mission.

The smirk and one last punch were the last thing you remember before she knocks you down cold.

---

Your head was about to explode inside your skull, and you blink at the light entering your cell. All that brightness was not helping your headache at all.

It's been a few days since you've been taken prisoner by Empress Carol Danvers and whether Xandar knows or has noticed your disappearance is something you have no idea of. And when Nova Prime sends reinforcements after you it won't be pretty.

Before proceeding on your mission, you had already been informed that all diplomatic avenues had been tried but completely closed by the Empress. That way, Xandar wouldn't try negotiations to try to get you back. Perhaps this would trigger a new war.

A war you couldn't afford. Certainly, you didn't want the weight of being the trigger or the spark in a cold battle of inflated tempers on your shoulders. Carol had a very short fuse, as you witnessed firsthand, while Prime could be an slayer when the situation called for it.

Days passed, becoming weeks and your monotonous existence is only interrupted by the Empress's daily visits. Visits that you don't know why she still keeps, when it's pretty obvious that you have no information to provide.

You are a member of the Nova Corp and have been sent on a solo mission to "dissuade" the Empress from continuing to rule her own empire with an iron fist. There were no ulterior motives, no espionage or reinforcements waiting in the moon not far from Hala.

You were a single, last resource. There was nothing but you and your broken form. A failed soldier.

You were standing, watching the sun shining on buildings across Hala through the small window in your cell, admiring the dots circling farther down the street, almost forgetting that each dot was a person. You wonder if Carol forgets who they are.

"Um, admiring my city, I see." You spare her a brief glance before you return it to the window. She was in a red robe with local designs, and you can't shake off your head at how beautiful she is. How beautiful she looks in red. Or any other color.

You don't exactly know why Carol still comes to your cell, but you can't lie to yourself that you don't like it. You do. But you convince yourself that any company is better than the solitude of these walls, just that and nothing else.

She is an empress after all. A Sovereign, considered by many to be evil and tyrant. But each gentle gesture towards you reminds you that her hands are stained with blood. Like yours. Your conscience doesn't seem to know which side it should be on.

"Forgive me if my boredom is exacerbated, your city is the only thing I have left to admire." You answer still looking ahead, afraid to look at her and be mesmerized. The Empress was a mystery that captivated you, as her answers were never what you would expect them to be. Just like now.

“I could end your boredom. Hala’s Summer Trade is famous across the galaxy, have you ever tasted Pluot Fruit?” Your head swivel towards her so fast it feels like a whip.

"Summer?" Quickly you do the math in your head, in this solar system the days and seasons were longer than in Xandar, so... "How long have I been kept in here?"

"Too long, Nova." Nova? What kind of nickname is this? Shaking your head, you question her. "Nova? This is not my name." She giggles and moves closer to the energy field that makes up your cell door, she’s one yard away so you can smell her perfume. White jasmine.

“I know it isn't. But I decided to abbreviate the title of Nova Corps to Nova, besides, I own this place…” she opens her arms to emphasize what she's talking about. "I can call you whatever I want, prisoner."

You decide to play her game and with a smirk on your face you respond. “Prisoner? Now, seconds ago weren’t you inviting me for a walk, your highness?”

You lick your lips when you see her face contorting in a mix of anger and something else, but what, you don't know. “You abuse my benevolence too much. Your precious Xandar never tried to open a ransom deal, you are of no use to them or to me.”

Her words crash into your chest, and you feel your heart break a little more. Months have passed and there was no sign of another corpsman coming to your rescue and now she tells you that Nova Prime didn't even try to negotiate your freedom.

You close your eyes and with small, defeated steps you walk to the window. A lifetime dedicated to Nova Corp and Xandar, to be abandoned like a stray dog ​​lost from its owners. Like someone worthless.

Defeated and hopeless, you ask Empress Carol why she still keeps you alive. Standing in the hallway leading to the dungeons hall she smiles triumphantly and speaks. "For my entertainment, prisoner."

--

"What do you think of the Pluot?" Carol's voice breaks your train of thought.

"Strangely delicious." You respond by referring to the strange appearance, as if it was a dried fruit and not completely juicy right after tasting it.

As with the fruit, such was your surprise to see Carol's interaction with her subjects. Many of them kept their distance, paid their obeisance and respects to the Empress, and continued on their way with their heads low.

However, a reassuring number of people seemed to genuinely like or even admire Carol and not out of obligation. Doing a 180° turn in the opinion you once held of the Empress, she was extremely adorable when interacting with children.

Who knew the fearsome tormentor of the Kree empire would be so… human? How can someone, who keeps a prisoner just for her own pleasure, be so kind? You wonder if they were the same person at all.

She smiles in response to what you said and you smile back, completely unsure of the reasons why you do.

After the Hala market tour went without incident, that is, without any attempt to escape on your part, Carol has granted you the right to stroll through the inner gardens of her palace. As much as you want to hate the way she plays as if you were a puppet, you can't.

You try to hate her, but each day you spend in her company makes it harder for you to deny the feeling that, gradually, grows in your chest. Then, you find yourself desperate to hang this passion before it's too late.

Your morning walks allow you to see autumn slowly approaching, little by little, with each leaf touching the ground. And if you used to enjoy Carol's garden alone, over time, the Empress's company became part of your routine.

"Why are you still keeping me alive, Carol?" You rarely addressed her by the title of empress or nobility, and she never forced you to use it, she seemed not to care whether you recognized her power or not. Nor did he seem to mind when you used it ironically.

"I like your company." She answered and that made you look directly into her eyes. "It isn't every day that I find a match." Her answer made something boil in your chest and you had to force your heart to understand that she was probably referring to the fight.

"I'm not a match for you, your highness." You spoke. "Everything special about me came from an enhanced helmet." A sad smile danced on your lips, remembering how powerless you felt when you saw it broken in her hand. You remembered how broken you felt yourself.

“Everything special about you comes from your heart, Nova.” Her tone was low and as much as you wanted, there was nothing to grasp in it. She spoke this sentence as if she were speaking about the weather but for you it just set your heart on fire.

--

Between stories from a lifetime ago, when Carol was only a human being without a single clue that the universe was bigger than her world and stories from her time adapting and training in Hala, you felt yourself slowly but surely falling for her.

The change for you was visible and you prayed it would be visible only to you. If before you thought she was beautiful, now she’s extremely attractive in your eyes. Even when choosing simple robes, Carol was always dressed impeccably.

After spending so much time together, it was only a matter of time before you realized that the Empress was possessed of vast intellect and knowledge about many different things.

But what strike you most was how funny and mundane she could be, yet, she still had that special something in her eyes that never failed in make you weak. You were a prisoner, indeed. A prisoner of her eyes.

Unlike many extremely powerful beings, Carol was humble enough to listen to your stories, and even encouraged you to tell more details about yourself. She never quite understood, but something about you drew her as if you were a magnet.

The sparkle in your eyes as you spoke about your homeland, friends, or your passion and honor in serving Nova Corp thrilled her. There were many things in you that stirred emotions in her, as well as aroused feelings that she thought she was no longer capable of feeling for a long time.

And so, without realizing it and at the same time fully aware of what was going on beneath her skin, the Empress fell in love with her Prisoner.

--

Winter at Hala marked when your quarters were no longer a cell but a room in Empress's palace. Larger than your home in Xandar, the room was beautifully decorated with art, and you could discern some Xandar artwork. You wonder if it was coincidence.

Despite being as warm as a star, Carol suggested that both of you should trade your walks in the garden for spending time in the library available at the palace. And that's how you began to be the Empress's company during her meals.

It started with lunch and then evolved into dinner and now Carol finds herself waiting for your presence before even touching her plate. ‘I shouldn't allow myself such weakness’, she thought. However, she couldn't bring herself to change or to avoid the need of your company.

--

"I beg your pardon?" You speak, barely able to avoid spilling your soup. The increasingly warm but shy rays of the sun and the many animals strolling in the courtyard tell you that spring is just around the corner. And that's exactly what almost made you spill the soup, in first place.

Carol cleared her throat, promptly speaking again, as if you had not heard her from the first time. “I’d be delighted if you grant me the honor of your company for the Spring Ball due in two weeks.” She looked at you expectantly.

Your mind was swirling as to why she would want you as her company, out of all people. She was the Empress; she could have anyone she wanted by her side. Yet, here she was, asking you to be her date.

The time in Hala flew slower as it did in Xandar, but it felt like the opposite, for the Ball came faster than you thought it be possible.

And here you were, walking down the entrance stairs in a beautiful golden gown with Carol’s arm locked with yours. Her deep green dress was marvelous and when you saw her welcoming you with that pretty smile of hers you thought you could melt.

Much to your dismay, Carol could sing just as she’d told you she could, but you never believed in her. It wasn’t hard for you to realize that you were free falling in love with her even more than you already were. If it was possible, you fell in love again. You’d be her prisoner, forever.

As the night went on, you were mesmerized by the ball, the music, and the way of life in Hala. It felt like a different life, one that very much resembled prince and princess’ tales that you heard when you were a kid.

A life that didn’t quite belong to you but looking into her eyes it made it feel like everything was possible, reachable, as if her power could create a different world. Just as she did. As ruler of the Kree empire, she created a new kingdom.

Standing in the balcony, you welcomed the cold air hitting your skin that was inebriating your senses, previously flooded by the Empress. The stars illuminated the sky of Hala making the city bellow you even prettier.

A soft touch in your hand brings your gaze back to its owner and a small gasp scape your lips when you see how close she is, even more so when you wish she were closer. “I never told you how beautiful you are tonight.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“You flatter me, your highness. You’re flawless yourself.” A small smile creeped up her lips and you forced yourself to keep your eyes locked with hers, proven to be a hard task when she started to lean into your ear.

“There is something that I wanted to tell you for a while ago.” Her hands on your waist made it difficult for you to pay attention to her words, along with the feel of her cheek touching your cheeks made your knees weak.

“You’re no longer a prisoner and you can leave Hala if you want to.” Her thumb drew patterns where it touched you and you could feel your skin burning. “You’re free, but I wish you’d stay here.” She backed down and now her eyes were boring into yours.

“I wish you’d stay here with me.” She stressed.

Your heart and head were running thousand miles per hour in completely opposite directions. The rational part of you wanted to take your freedom and go back to Xandar, even though you should find it suspicious that, almost after a year, she’d let you go. Specially after you’d learned so much about Hala. About her.

However, your heart’s been slowly giving itself to this woman right in front of you, and there was nothing that you wanted more than to stay here with her. Surely, you felt left behind by Nova Prime, but it still stings in you that no one came after you. Not even a fellow corpsman.

‘Not one that you know, for that matter.’ You shook your conscience’s voice away and gave in to your heart. The rational part of you broke at the exact same time as did your helmet.

“Carol, I…” You begin but she interrupts you by placing an oh so soft lips on yours and there is no voice to hear anymore. Nor rational, nor emotional. There are only her lips pouring her heart into a kiss and you do just the same.

Right in that moment you felt as if your heart was about to melt, maybe it would, if she hadn’t broken the kiss and rested her forehead in yours.

“Tell me you’ll stay and rule by my side.” Before the true meaning of her words could sink in, the sky of Hala suddenly shone as if thousands of stars appeared right in that moment, drawing the attention of you both.

Not long until you realized that it wasn’t stars, but thousands of spaceships painting the night over your heads, and you’d recognize those ships anywhere. Xandar was here. And a voice that you’d never forget was heard above all noise.

“I am Nova Prime and Xandar declares war to Empress Carol, accused of murdering Nova Corps’ Commander.”

‘Why are they accusing her of murder?’ You thought to yourself. It does not make sense that she’s being accused of killing you when you’re alive. Unless…

“Carol, what did you do?”

[mofieroll]

You Too (Jotaro Kujo x Fem!Reader)

Inspired from my in-character interaction with @mistaeq! Dedicated to them for motivating me to write! 💛

A Post!SDC Jotaro x Reader one shot where you bond with Holly, who you call Seiko, and pamper your man Jotaro.

Trigger Warning: Mentions of Trauma

Word Count: 3k

Two years have passed since the events of the Crusaders' trip to Egypt to save the life of Holly Kujo from being taken by her own Stand. To say that the trip was memorable is an understatement. It was too memorable. The memories of built friendships and increased attachments in just a span of fifty days were unbearable, for fate made the surviving comrades of the group pay for all the joyous moments with the pain of death and eternal separation.

It was hard. Painful. Frightening. Heartbreaking.

It was excruciatingly traumatizing, that even the boy who appeared to be unbothered and distant, the boy who put an end to the cold-blooded century old vampire's curse, couldn't deny it.

Jotaro Kujo couldn't get away from the memories of his dying friends, and so, the supposed flashbacks became inescapable nightmares.

But fortunately, that was until you came.

You met Jotaro a month after he came back from his trip. The meeting was a mere coincidence as you were a year lower than him, you personally did not and had no intentions of getting to know him. It just so happened that Holly or Seiko, his mother, came across your small shop that sold self-designed accessories made from recycled materials. You had told her you search and pick the materials —mostly trash— yourself, which certainly piqued the woman's interest and told you, “Is that right? I have a son, and don't tell him I told you this, but he loves marine animals! It seems you are both fond of nature so I'm sure you'll get along— Oh! I'm sorry dear, we haven't introduced ourselves! I'm Holly Kujo, but you can call me Seiko~”. She was a sweetheart, so you saw no harm in accepting her offer that led you to become a close acquaintance of the Kujo Family.

Much to the matchmaker's Seiko's dismay, it took a year for you and Jotaro to confess that your platonic feelings are in need of a level up. She is Jotaro's mother and your first Kujo friend, of course she'd notice if something was up between you and Jotaro that you both refused to talk about! When you finally re-introduced yourself as Jotaro's.. cough.. girlfriend, Seiko was delighted and decided to treat her second favorite couple (next to her parents Joseph and Suzie) to a nice romantic dinner! The unplanned date embarrassed Jotaro, but he endured it as it gave a good start for the new level of your relationship with him.

Until then, Jotaro became more and more protective. You found it sweet knowing that your boyfriend, former acquaintance, cares about you and shows affection in ways you quite expected for a forbearing man like him. He's not a man of words nor materialistic gifts but a man of straightforward actions— yet he remained mysterious.

Jotaro has been avoiding you since the week has started. He distanced himself yet guarded you as you walked home after class everyday. Everytime you tried to catch him, he's nowhere to be seen. You started to get frustrated, and you know you wouldn't get any explanation even if you corner him and face him alone.

Seiko called you today and asked if you could have dinner wih them, which you excitedly agreed to because you were actually on the way to the Kujo household, a paper bag —which contained your newly designed rings and necklace— in hand.

With Seiko greeting you outside their gates, you entered their traditional mansion and told her about the happenings from the previous days. Even with the mention of Jotaro's sudden actions, Seiko chatted with you nonchalantly.

“Dear, you know my boy would do things that can be a little too unexpected even for me,” Seiko stated, “But if there's one thing or two that I can assure of, is that he means no harm..” You stopped in your tracks as she faced you and tucked your hair behind your ear, smiling, “And he cares for you, [Y/N]. I think, that may be his way of showing it!” Seiko spoke with softness, hopeful that her words would reach you and get rid of any confusion that would spark a misunderstanding on her stoic son's intentions.

You smiled back at Seiko with teary eyes, touched by her comfort. You pulled out the necklace from your paper bag and showed it to her, quietly telling her that it's your gift, only to receive an enthusiastic squeal and hug before you locked the accessory around her neck.

“It looks perfect on you Seiko! I wonder if I'd be as beautiful as you when I reach your age..” You sighed and pouted at Seiko, holding the paper bag on your middle.

“Oh, you!” Seiko playfully hit you as you both giggled, “You shouldn't say such things to a middle aged woman, [Y/N]! I might believe you!” Seiko joked while you insisted that you're sincere about your compliment.

Your chat continued on until she told you to run along and check on her boy, not forgetting to tease that Jotaro misses you. You face warmed in pink, which Seiko found so cute that she had to pinch your cheeks. With her positive and welcoming presence, your determination to face Jotaro fueled.

Seiko informed you that she'll be preparing dinner. You replied, “Mhm! I'll drag Jotaro and we'll meet you here at the dining room! Is that okay?”

“Okay~!”

—

Meanwhile Jotaro, who hasn't come out of his room the whole day, heard you and Seiko pass by. He was sitting in the far corner of his room but the combined voices of yours and his mother's particularly blasted through his ears. He's.. happy.. that you're both safe and sound.. but— why are you here? You should be at home! Did something happen? Did someone bother you? Wait.. did you come here alone? Didn't he tell you even before that you shouldn't go out at night? What if.. what if something happened to you? What if someone showed up and.. and took you away? Took you somewhere.. he can't reach.. What if his dreams were to happen? What if—

Knock! Knock!

Jotaro's sweating face turned to look at his door as his breathing became more unsteady. His eyes widened, brows clashed, and his mouth was agape, gasping for more air. His fists were clenched and he was trembling, who's knocking? Who's trying to get him again?

“Kujo?”

Jotaro stopped breathing for a second while his body still trembled. The voice that called him held sweetness and concern in it but he was still in a dark trance. What if someone's trying to deceive him?

“Seiko called me, may I come in?”

His widened eyes calmed, turning his tormented expression into one of those longingness. His shuddering arm reached out as he subconsciously stood and walked towards his shut door. His cold hand gripped the handle.. but he didn't have the slightest strength to pull it himself. What is he doing? He can't face anyone like this, especially..

On the other side of Jotaro's door was you, with a hand that also gripped the cold handle, waiting for the right timing to enter. Your heartbeat has increased its pace, indicating your uptight feeling of facing him after not seeing him for over a week. You were nervous and a short flashback of your first meeting with Jotaro popped up in your mind. Has it really been two years?

Jotaro never directly told you of his.. episodes. But, there were times where you just happened to observe that whenever you were late on your meeting, he immediately scoops you in a hug while he trembles; or whenever you randomly visit him on weekends and you enter his room only with a knock, he abruptly charges at you with his folded fist stopping inches from your worried face. He didn't tell you about what's haunting him, not even once. Yes, you were undeniably frustrated by him avoiding you, but you love him well enough to have the willingness to act up whilst having patience.

You waited for more minutes before speaking again, “I'm gonna enter now, alright?” You assured, carefully sliding the door behind you and turning on the light switch after you entered.

Your eyes wandered after it adjusted to the lit room, locking on the form of a slouched man in the corner, sitting with a knee up that had his arm and head resting on it while his other knee was folded. You quietly sighed and walked close to him, hiding the impatience to throw yourself at him and pepper him with kisses, mumbling i missed yous. You would have done it, but that kind of affection.. goes for later.

You sat beside Jotaro and placed the paper bag on your side. You weren't too close nor too far from him, just enough to have your hand caress his messy dark hair. You loved seeing him without his hat, seeing his flawless face be shadowless. But if he took it off, the reason is either he's agitated or.. sleep. There was a time when you told him that he should take off his hat indoors and a time you tried to take it off yourself, but he completely ignored you at both and kept the hat on.

“How are you?” You asked without expecting a reply. It was to make him acknowledge your presence, and that is because you didn't know that he's been waiting for you to come in since the moment he heard your voice.

Jotaro wanted to answer. He wanted to lock you in his arms and.. say sorry. He wanted to apologize for neglecting you but— how is he going to do that without telling you too much?

“Why the f*ck did my mother call you? I don't need any help. That b*tch.”

There it is, his method of putting up a tough facade, the swearing that would prompt anybody to think that he needs no help. It worked on you once, but you're not just anybody to him now.

“Mhm. Seiko checked up on me while I was heading home from.. somewhere. She invited me for dinner,” You informed. You didn't want to tell him that you were on your way here even before Seiko called you, knowing full well that he's against you ‘roaming’ at night alone.

You continued to comb through his hair as he answered, “For real [Y/N], I'm fine. Leave. I don't need you to stay here— or.. or something.”

Your hand lowered to his upper back and started to rub circles, “Would you look at me and say that again, Kujo?” you asked in a slightly teasing tone, trying to light up the mood.

You started humming a soft melody, a melody that somehow always soothed Jotaro. The first time you hummed it was when you were cooking dinner for him and Seiko wasn't home. He got into a fight that day and he was abnormally quiet, not the usual, resulting to a tension between the two of you. You hummed the melody to ease the atmosphere, and when you were placing his plate on the table, he suddenly grabbed your wrist and muttered an apology before he told you to ‘keep doing’ what you were doing. The melody was just random, so you did your best to remember its tone and hum it whenever you both need comfort.

And this time, he was soothed again, but he isn't going to be swayed so easily even if he wants to.

“F*cking go away.” He huffs, “You're just like the annoying b*tch. Leave me alone.”

No, stay. He stated in his mind the complete opposite of what came out of his mouth. Of course you didn't leave and continued to hum and rub circles on his back. He may be one of the harshest men you've met, but you have a counter for that. Well.. you're stubborn.

He remembered what you said about heading home from.. somewhere. Where was that? “Where were you coming from?” He asked in a demanding tone.

“Doesn't matter where I was, Kujo. You're still not looking at me.” You retreated your hand from his back and crawled to sit in front of him in crossed legs before placing your hands on his large ones, “I wouldn't mind being like Seiko, although..” You squeezed the top of his hands, bowed your body and peeked at his face where your warm [E/C] eyes met his tired yet enchanting aquamarines. Your lips quirked into a small smile, “You wouldn't want your partner to be your second mother, would you?”

Partner?

Jotaro looked at you blankly, not realizing how close your faces were, “You're still worrying about me too much, I'm fine. I'm.. I'm just remembering..” You straightened and held his cheeks, gently pulling up his face before standing on your knees. You shifted your hand and cupped his face, delicately looking at him to encourage him to speak.

In that moment where he's putting his toughness down, you've completely set aside the issue from the past week. The thoughts that Jotaro might've had enough of you because he thinks you're oblivious to his personal issues— all gone. Holly's words echoed through your mind. Mother truly knows best.

“Egypt.. friends dyi—” Jotaro cut his words and sighed deeply, “..all of it is hitting hard. You won't understand.”

You bit your bottom lip and nodded. He's right, you would not be able to understand, but that's temporary. It'll take more time for him but you're willing to wait, “I.. dream of you..” He swallows the lump in his throat while you wipe the sweat forming on his temple, “I dream of you dying too.”

With that, you were able to catch on more of what happened before you came in his life. People close to him died. People who he probably traveled with.. might have died right before him.. or not. And now he's being haunted, probably by the guilt or by the experience itself. You're still skeptical, but it's considerably clear now.

Your eyes that looked at your hand which wiped his bead of sweat shifted to his eyes, and you saw fear. He was frightened, not only by the past, but also by the possibility that he might lose you too.

You retreated your hands and sat on your legs as you and Jotaro continued to communicate through your eyes. Your heart was thumping fast against your chest, now of sympathy.

“Jotaro, I..”

This time, you threw yourself at him. Arms snaking around his neck, your face buried on his shoulder. You wrapped him in a tight hug as it took him time to return the affection, wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you even closer as he closed his eyes and basked his head on yours. You and Jotaro savored the hug for a while, not thinking about anything else aside being in each other's arms.

“I'm here.. and I'm telling you that I'll be here to love you longer than that delinquent head of yours expected.”

You broke the hug gently, a hand shifting to cup his cheek while you also reached for the paper bag. Jotaro opened his eyes as he felt you fix his sitting position so you could sit —with crossed legs— on his thighs, laying your back on his chest.

“See this?” You lifted the paper bag with both hands, giving Jotaro the chance to once again wrap his arms around your waist. He doesn't mind giving in to your touch as of now.

Jotaro grunted, “Inside this lovely recycled and eco-friendly paper bag are things that.. uhm.. how do I introduce it..” You slowly placed your head on his shoulder, putting the bag down between your legs. You contemplated as you stared on the wooden ceiling, “I know! The things.. consider it as our promise to each other, Kujo. Am I clear? Yep, I'm clear!”

Jotaro clicked his tounge in annoyance as you lifted your head from his shoulder when he was about to rest his head against yours. Why can't he just cuddle you without you moving too much? Can't you and him just cuddle in peace?

You shifted again, now face to face with him. You acted surprise when you saw his furrowed brow, “Oh? Kujo is annoyed with the mighty [L/N]?”

“Just get it over with, woman.” Jotaro supported your back with an arm, watching you as you struggled to hold his free hand with one of yours. You had set aside the paper bag, the things in it now hidden in your other hand.

When you finally settled with wrapping your small hand around his palm so his fingers were loose, you smiled up at him and swiftly leaned in to kiss the tip of his nose. Jotaro turned away, snorting to at least lessen his flustered state. Where is his hat now that he practically needs it?

Jotaro felt a cold thing graze his skin, along with what seems to be two fingers pushing the thing on his. He glanced and saw you inserting a ring on his pinky with a serious face. You were glaring at his hand, your smile only returning when you successfully inserted the ring.

You let go of his hand and was about to wear the other ring yourself when he grabbed your wrist, snatched the ring and easily inserted the accessory on your pinky, all of it with only one hand as his other arm was still supporting you.

You were taken aback, ready to question him when he pulled you into a bridal position and locked your upper body with his arms within a second. You chuckled instead of saying a thing, wrapping your arms around his torso.

“Keen for a cuddle, huh, Kujo?”

“Good grief. You're one brave woman to challenge me.”

As you and Jotaro became ignorant to your surroundings, a flash of a camera resided from the slightly opened door, the sound being followed by a muffled kyaaah! which, with no doubt, came from the adorably giddy mother of the impatient man in your arms.

[End!]

[pod95]

Prince With Benefits: Chapter 1

Pairing: Finn Balor X OFC (Ciara)

Word Count: 849

Warnings: Mature to explicit as the story goes on.

Description: After moving to the USA from England to start her career as an NXT superstar, Ciara gets to meet her long time crush, NXT champion Finn Balor. It's clear the pair have chemistry, but when tensions start to rise, will they find they want more than a no strings attached relationship?

A/n: So this is the first piece of fanfic I have written literally ever. I will be posting them here periodically, but I already have 6 chapters out on my Wattpad, AO3 and FanFiction pages.

This series will involve romance, drama and (although it will take a little while) some smutt too. Hope you enjoy it! 😊

Chapter 1: The Tour

"You'll be making your debut in 3 weeks. That should give us plenty of time to develop a story for your character, and highlight anything you need to work on. Moves, promos, that kind of thing."

Paul looked at me, seemingly expecting some form of reply, but in all honesty I was still struggling to believe that I was even here at all.

"Did you have any ideas about your gimmick?" he looked back down through my file as I snapped out of my haze.

"Yes actually," I responded "I made a few notes and I was hoping to spitball some of them with you."

He looked up from his paper and stared at me. He appeared half way between surprised and impressed. Most new superstars don't have the confidence to pitch their own ideas and just let WWE's creative team do whatever they think is best.

"Well okay!" he smiled "Let's hear them!"

We spent about 20 minutes looking over my notes. Paul made a few scribbles, circled ideas he was particularly fond of, and eventually we had something we were very happy with.

One thing I was adamant about was staying true to myself. I had no intentions of pretending to be someone I'm not, so we went with an alternative aesthetic I'd based on my D&D character. It was... Different. Hopefully different enough to stand out.

Paul led me out of the small meeting room we were in, taking me on a tour of my home for the foreseeable future, the WWE Performance Center.

* * * *

He led me through the lobby pointing out various board rooms along the way, as well as some language classrooms they used for international talent. The corridors were lined with display cases with in-ring gear from previous NXT superstars.

"This is the green screen studio," Paul informed me, directing me into a small room with several cameras, monitors and a green screen, "you can practice character work here, work on your promo skills and the great thing is, you can watch it back immediately," he pointed to the monitors.

Above one of the monitors was a puppet of the late Dusty Rhodes. He had a lot of influence on most of the NXT talent so it makes perfect sense he'd be here watching over them. I smiled solemnly and stared at my feet.

"There's usually a trainer in here who can give you feedback but we sometimes get groups of superstars in here. It's a good learning experience"

He led me down a few more corridors, pointing out more WWE relics along the way.

"This is the medical room. It's used by  NXT, Raw and Smackdown superstars. Hopefully you won't need to spend any time here, but if you do, we have some of the best medical experts and equipment in the business."

It was all very impressive. Every inch of the Performance Center had been designed with convenience in mind. Say what you like about WWE but this place was undoubtedly the best place to train.

"This is the training room. You'll be spending a lot of time here."

I stared in awe at the large room housing 7 rings for practicing, as well as one TV ring, complete with stage lighting, entrance, ramp and broadcast ready cameras. At the back of the room, two rings were used to practice upcoming matches.

Some of the people training here must have been new starters as I only recognised a few people. Tegan Nox and Dakota Kai were practicing a few spots, Scott Garland (or Scott 2 Hotty to his fans) was having some newbies run the ropes, and Damien Priest was having a match with Johnny Gargano as several superstars and trainers watched.

As Paul led me out of the room, I struggled to pull my gaze away. It was all so fascinating to me.

"And for the final stop, the pride and joy of the Performance Center, our state of the art Strength and Conditioning Gym."

He opened the doors leading to the gym. I examined every inch of the room, not wanting to miss any details. They had equipment here I never even knew existed, as well as the usual offenders; treadmill, cross trainer, bikes etc...

And then I stopped scanning, my gaze now fixed upon one very specific piece of equipment.

"Most superstars exercise here once a day before heading to the training room, but you'll find a routine that works for you," Paul tried to inform me, but my attentions were focused elsewhere.

There, suspended from the gymnastic hoops, was the glistening, sculpted  body of the man of my dreams.

****

Authors Note: So you may have guessed but my writing style is kind of slow burning. I like a lot of description to really emerse myself in the environment. This chapter especially as it's the first one. Future chapters will focus more on Finn I promise! I'm still learning, so if I'm going over the top and you want me to tone it down, please let me know and I'll work on it. Thanks for reading!

[remmyswritings]

IDEA TIME!! So it's after the War, and Theo feels very inclined to learn how the other side lives, considering that he was taught to frown upon it his whole childhood without really knowing what the muggle world is like. And Y/N takes it upon herself to help him out... I'm thinking street food, festival type thing or amusement park?? Maybe she takes him to a soccer match?? I'm excited to see what you come up with 😁💛

Ok, one, I totally forgot about this request for a hot minute but I remembered so yayyyyy!!!!! Anyway I hope you like this @peeves-a-legend, I went a bit past the idea so yep

taglist: @curious-curios @summer-writes @willowbleedsonpaper @strawberriesonsummer @jenniweaslee @cherrycolakxsses @peeves-a-legend @booksmusicteaandanimals @heart-of-tempered-steel

my teacher//theodore “teddy” nott x reader

You and Theo always had a rather interesting relationship, even before the war. It wasn’t really a secret relationship, per say, but you also weren’t shouting it from the rooftops for everyone to know. I mean, you were a halfblood Hufflepuff and he was a pureblood Slytherin, so it really wasn’t in his favor for a lot of people to know, but those that did were accepting of it (thank god). After the war, it became more obvious to Theo the importance of learning about the other side- about muggles and their world. He was always interested in it, that you knew, especially with the way he would subtly ask you about your home life since your parents made sure that you had a balance of both worlds. Since you happened to be Theo’s only friend that knew anything about muggle life, you unofficially designated yourself his teacher of all things muggle.

At first, it started with you showing him the different technology you had in your flat: the microwave, the television, the telephone, the radio. You did enjoy records and whatnot, so your record player was one of the few things that Theo caught on to instantly. Then once you could tell he felt comfortable around all that, you introduced him to public transportation- making sure that you went at times when the buses and the tube weren’t that full. You really enjoyed that as well since you were able to drag Theo on one of those tourist buses and see all of muggle London. Of course, the other people found it rather funny when you told them how the two of you were from London, you just didn’t do a lot of sightseeing.

But you knew Theo like the back of your hand, and after the war, you learned he didn’t like crowded places. It seemed as though it reminded him too much of the battle and whatnot. So instead of taking him to a soccer match like you first intended, you dragged him to a food festival that you knew was happening one weekend. There was when you saw Theo at his happiest since everything had occurred. Quite frankly, he reminded you of a kid in a candy shop: eyes wide, pointing at all the different stands, holding your hand the whole time the two of you were there. 

“So I take it you liked the festival?” By now you and Theo were blocks away, yet he still held onto your hand as if his life depended on it.

Theo turned to you, his eyes full of light and passion, “It was amazing! I can’t believe we don’t have anything like that. Imagine all the different foods that exist.”

You couldn’t help but smile at Theo’s excitement, “I’m really happy you enjoyed it, darling.”

Oh yes, the two of you had pet names which totally does not help your growing crush on him. 

“I heard from one of the vendors that there’s another one in two weeks. We should totally go together,” Theo brought you closer to him so you were practically hip-to-hip.

You thought of your schedule for the next two weeks and suddenly remembered you’d be out of town, “Oh… I don’t think I’ll be able to go with you. The Ministry is sending me out to France to meet with some delegates regarding an assignment. Why don’t you ask Daphne though, I’m sure she’d like to go with you?”

“Ok,” you could see the excitement fade from Theo’s face and the warmth his body provided yours disappeared as he put some distance between the two of you, “Ya- I guess- I just like that this is our thing. I’d rather not share it with anyone else.”

You reached out and grabbed Theo’s hand this time and pulled him so that he would look at you, “I’ll see if I can get back from my trip before the weekend and the two of us can go together. Ok, darling?”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Theo wrapped you up in his arms, giving you the chance to get a whiff of the smells that you always associate with Theo. At first, all you smell is the fried food from the festival, but then it’s the musky book smell that comes from Theo always being in the library and the fresh, crisp air that reminds you of clean laundry. The same things you smelled in the Amortentia potion you made all those years ago in school.

The two of you finally make it to the steps leading up to your flat, and for once you wish Theo could stay. You continue to hold his hand as you unlock the door, and before you walk inside you turn to him, “Would you… maybe… like to stay tonight?”

“Do you want me to stay?” Theo joins you on the last step and grabs your other hand that no longer holds onto the door.

You nod, “I want you to stay,” you whisper, as the two of you slowly lean into one another. 

Your foreheads were touching when Theo spoke, “Are you sure you want this? I have nothing to offer you.”

You shook your head and moved your hands so that they touched Theo’s face softly, “All I want and need is you. Nothing else.”

“Ok,” he breathed out. It was soft and gentle, yet there seemed to be undertones of passion and fondness. When the two of you separated your hands had found their way to Theo’s neck and his had taken possession of your waist.

You stood there for quite some time before deciding to finally head inside, “Come on,” you murmured. 

Theo let you lead him towards your bedroom where some extra clothes of him laid inside an empty dresser. He helped you undress in such a way that you couldn’t help but fall deeper in love. All you saw in his eyes were pure adoration, and you were sure he saw the same thing in yours. 

The two of you got into bed, yet couldn’t go to sleep straight away. Theo had been dragging his fingers through your hair when he spoke, “Thank you-” 

“For what?” you moved your body so that you could look up at him.

His hand went from your hair to your cheek, “For teaching me about your world… for being you.”

“Well, thank you for letting me teach you,” the fondness in your voice shining through. 

Theo dragged you towards his chest so that the two of you could finally go to sleep, “I’m totally gonna make one of those dishes for breakfast tomorrow sweetheart.” You felt him kiss the top of your head one last time and then your bodies relaxed as you went off to your dreams.