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holdmecloser-gandydancer · 2 years

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I posted 1,865 times in 2022

That's 126 more posts than 2021!

259 posts created (14%)

1,606 posts reblogged (86%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@/barry-j-blupjeans

@/phantasmagoric-acquaintance

@/holdmecloser-gandydancer

@/anistarrose

@/herbgerblin

I tagged 1,771 of my posts in 2022

Only 5% of my posts had no tags

#rip (reeses in pieces) - 214 posts

#not taz - 157 posts

#srb - 92 posts

#reese writes - 54 posts

#taz balance - 53 posts

#taz - 51 posts

#taz amnesty - 50 posts

#asks - 37 posts

#the adventure zone - 34 posts

#lup - 27 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#[reese aren't you working on a long piece with hali in another window?] yeah and? sbtts has been simmering in our shared brains for a while

My Top Posts in 2022:

Barry takes his glasses off and presses the heels of his hands against his eyes. He’s been staring at his computer for far too long today. The computer in question sits on the couch next to him, screen obscenely bright in his dim living room.

He’d been ignoring the emails that infiltrated his inbox with growing frequency and urgency, all of them riddled with subject lines like “Payment Plans for Upcoming Semester,” and “Payment Due Soon,” and “Seriously, You Owe Us Tens of Thousands of Dollars and We Aim to Collect.” You know, normal stuff.

He’d always figured that actually doing the coursework would be the hardest part of grad school, not figuring out how to fund it without owing his soul and first-born child to the federal government. But the fact of the matter is that he’s reached a dead end; most of everything his mom left him was used to pay off his undergrad loans some years back. His university has mentioned scholarships and work study but he’s convinced the scholarships are a myth and also his university declined to mention that the work study they offer doesn’t actually pay him in money, rather they just pay for three course credits. Don’t get him wrong, that’s better than nothing but that doesn’t help pay his rent or buy textbooks.

Once again he mourns the fact that the only applied arcane theory program that accepted him just had to be a private university many states away.

He returns his glasses to his face and pulls his laptop closer to him. He’s about three modules into his ten-module long loan counseling. It’s basically an online program that explains in excruciating detail just how deeply the federal government has his future in their pocket. “Oh, hey Barry! If you Ever fall behind on your loans, we can garnish your wages that already probably won’t be able to pay for a studio apartment in Neverwinter and also you’ll be paying these back for anywhere from ten to twenty five years! You also cannot declare bankruptcy because you live in hell!! Only way to get off the hook for these is if your school shuts down before you get your degree or you die! Now sign on the dotted line after you hyperventilate a little when you look at just how much money you’re going to be responsible for!”

The whole process makes his stomach hurt; there’s no good reason education should be this much. He’s going to be saddled with loans worth more than any yearly salary he could hope to have and now he’s gotta pay them back or die.

Wait.

He rereads the loan forgiveness terms. “If your loan servicer receives acceptable documentation of your death, your federal student loans will be discharged,” he reads to himself. He's got it.

He lets loose a laugh that borders on maniacal and roots around for his phone. It rings once before someone picks up on the other end.

“Lup!” He whoops.

“Bear? What’s up? You sound extremely excitable right now.”

“Okay, remember when you wanted to get married for tax benefits?”

“I do! I also remember you turned me down because you didn’t want to our marriage to be for convenience.”

Barry laughs to himself. “Yeah, I still stand by that.”

“You sap,” she sighs fondly.

“Well, I think I found a way to scam the federal government through a loophole.”

“Gods I love when you talk dirty to me!”

“We can talk more when you come home but I can almost promise you neither of us are paying off our student loans.”

“Barry, I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about and I can’t wait to hear your devious plan. Love you!”

“Love you.” He clicks end on the call and looks around for his theoretical necromancy notes from a few semesters ago.

264 notes - Posted August 12, 2022

Lucretia pulled the door of her room shut and scrubbed tears from her face. Magnus just needed to sleep it off. He’d be fine. They’d all be fine, Lucretia kept telling herself like some kind of chant to a long-forgotten god. She just had to find the others.

She happened upon Merle and Davenport first. They were at the dining room table. Merle watched Davenport carefully as the captain shook like a soaking wet dog. Lucretia plastered a tight smile on her face though she was certain it would fool nobody. At least, it wouldn’t have ten minutes prior.

“Are you both okay?” she asked, glancing between them.

“Uh. I’m a little confused myself. Who’re you? And where exactly are we?” Merle squinted his eyes at her.

Her stomach twisted. Her plan was working, it seemed. And she hated every moment. “I’m…I’m a friend, of sorts. And we are on a vessel that will dock very soon. And then I’m gonna take you home. Soon. I promise.” She spoke slowly, chose her words carefully, and hoped that Merle’s bad memory would give her some breathing room.

“Davenport.”

Lucretia turned and looked at Davenport, a slight furrow in her brow. “Yes, you’re Davenport.”

He looked up at her and she saw a look in his eyes she would never forget. She saw panic and fear on his face like she’d never seen before, not even during their closest encounters with the Hunger. “I-I’m Davenport,” he repeated, voice shaking.

No. Gods no there was no way. She nodded and forced her smile to widen. “Right. Davenport, do you know where you are?”

“Davenport.”

She looked back to Merle. “Has he said anything besides his name in the past ten or so minutes?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Just Davenport.” He thought for a second, tilting his head consideringly. “Well, I guess he said my name right before he started saying his. Kinda weird ‘cuz I never told him my name. But that’s what we’re working with.”

She already wanted to bring out cups of ichor and abort the plan. How could she do this? Her plan might work but at what cost? “Okay. How’s your head feel?”

“Davenport.” His voice was tight and pained.

“Shitty, now that you mention it. Kinda feels like I got hit over the head with a club or something,” Merle said, frowning deeply.

She nodded. “Right. Do you want to go lie down? A nap might help. I have a room for each of you.”

Davenport looked at her blankly. His gaze was haunted and filled Lucretia with sickening regret.

“I could use a nap,” Merle agreed before standing.

“If you’ll both follow me,” she said primly.

She led them wordlessly down to their rooms, surreptitiously grabbing obvious red flags that were present within them. She grabbed Merle’s jacket, a handful of trinkets from the beach cycle, a memento from the First Church of Fungston, and shut his door without another word. Davenport’s room was easier; his jacket was folded on the edge of his bed and few personal affects that would remind him of the mission were clearly visible.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, almost more to herself than to him.

She left before she had to hear him say his own name again.

Barry and Taako were nowhere to be found inside the ship. Should have known that they’d be on the deck; they’d both been spending days on end pouring over maps of the realm, touching down to search for Lup, before coming back and feeling defeated.

What she found on the deck stopped her dead in her tracks. Taako’s wand was at his feet, he was staring into space, eyes welling with tears. He had a white-knuckle grip on the railing. Barry wasn’t there. Barry was nowhere on the ship.

She approached Taako carefully. “Taako?”

He snapped his head up and looked in her direction though his gaze seemed to pass right through her. “H-he told me to blast him. He said he was forgetting someone’s face and he told me to blast him. He was panicked and he was scared and I wanted to help him and I don’t know why. I don’t know why. I blasted him. I killed him. I-I just killed him and he smiledwhile I did it,” Taako babbled. He looked like he was about to snap the whole railing with his bare hands.

“Taako, it’s okay,” she said, reaching to put a hand on his shoulder.

He flinched away from her and glared. “Don’t fucking touch me! This isn’t okay! I-I killed a guy. I killed a guy and he probably had a fucking family or something at home.”

“Taako, please. I need you to breathe, okay?” Lucretia did her best to be firm and kind. It usually worked.

“How do you know my name? Who are you? A-and where are we? And who was that guy?” Taako snapped. He was putting on a big front but Lucretia knew what this was. He had on the same feral cat façade that he did when she first met him.

See the full post

286 notes - Posted March 7, 2022

Lup can feel her soul vibrating in her body. This isn’t an uncommon occurrence, just the nature of a lich contained. The sweat prickling her scalp though? That’s all nerves, the kind of physiological vulnerability Lup hates. See, everyone’s getting together later for the largest event of the season; the garden party the twins are throwing for their birthday. It’s going to be obnoxious and extravagant and unbecoming, surely. That’s not the source of her anxiety, though.

Lup’s called Taako over early to give him his gift. (If she’s being honest, it’s as much for her as it is for him but who really wants to argue semantics?) She’s reminded him about it no less than four hundred times in the past week. The timing on this is vital, she thinks.

She glances at the clock that hangs over the kitchen sink and bites at her thumbnail; he’s not even late yet, she’s getting worked up over nothing. She murmurs a quick message to Barry through her Stone of Far Speech before filling a kettle and putting it on the stove to boil. She’s pawing through the pantry for honey and tea, fingertips just able to nudge the honey down without a casualty when she hears a key turn in the lock.

“In here!” she calls, retrieving three teacups from a cabinet near the stove. She methodically drops a large dollop of honey in the bottom of each. She pushes them back from the edge of the counter and moves to lean against the island in the middle of the kitchen.

“Lup, the fact that you made me get up early on my birthday is a crime, frankly,” Taako bemoans as he enters the kitchen, sliding onto a stool as he does.

“Our birthday,” she corrects with a dramatic eye roll. She darts a glance back at the clock again.

“Why’re you being weird?” Taako squints at her. Lup turns to look back at Taako and tries to play it as cool as she can. She’s certain she’s reapproaching normalcy already.

“I’m not being weird,” Lup says, giving a weird little smile. Too plasticine, she realizes too late. She doesn’t do this whole nerves bullshit well. It’s annoying and gross.

“You’re being certifiably weird, Lu. But go ahead, try to pull a fast one over on your dear brother,” Taako laments, putting his chin in his hands. The kettle whistles before Lup’s able to tease him about being a drama queen. At once she gets to work, adding a small splash of hot water to the bottom of each teacup, swirling them around to loosen the honey. She then dumps a healthy amount of tea leaves in each cup and covers them with water. She grabs three small plates from the cupboard and covers them. When she turns around, Taako’s staring at her, his eyes narrowed.

“What?” she asks innocently.

“Why are you making three cups? I thought Barold was out doing errands?”

“He is.”

Taako crosses his arms. “Lup, what’s going on? I don’t dig cagey and I do believe I was promised a gift that couldn’t be given in front of everyone else,” he says expectantly.

Lup takes a breath to steady herself. “Taako, I found her.”

His face folds in on itself in confusion. He glances back over at the three teacups and suddenly his face is opening back up in understanding and disbelief. “Bullshit. There’s no way. I-I’ve asked Kravitz about that a thousand times. He said that you can’t just go dipping in the Astral Plane of other planarverses. He said that not even the Raven Queen could clear something like that. Said it wasn’t possible. That’s the whole reason he wasn’t chasing our asses until we touched down in Faerun,” Taako babbles, trying to ignore that defiant, stomach flipping hope bubbling up inside of him.

Lup beams and ignores the clenching in her throat. “Well, you’re not supposed to be able to. But Kravitz, Barry, RQ, and I have been looking for a workaround. Not just for this, apparently RQ and some of the other gods have been looking for a way to connect with their cross-planar counterparts. I guess to like, aid in the smooth running of each planar system? To be honest when she was talking about it I couldn’t really follow but the point is that I found her, Taako. I haven’t talked to her yet. Wouldn’t do that without you. But we did some tests to make sure it’d all be okay and they went perfect. It’s not like it’s a forever open door or anything, though. Strictly speaking, us lowly non-gods still won’t be able to do this but it’s kinda hard to argue with a few saviors of the universe.” Lup cringes for a minute. “I hate playing that card sometimes but I feel like this is worth it.” Her voice catches at the last moment and she clears her throat. She’s determined not to cry.

Taako’s determination to not cry was shattered roughly ten seconds into Lup’s explanation. “How long?” he asks, voice wobbly. He’s not stupid, play too rough with the boundaries of the world and things can get a little fucky. But he wants to make the most of this.

“Few hours? That’s why I had you come over so early. I wanted us to have plenty of time. Didn’t wanna bring her to the party later, that’s just too much. But if you’re okay with it, I do want Barry to drop in for just a minute. He really wants to meet her.”

Taako scoffs and tries to sweep his emotion under a bravado coated façade. “I mean you’re outta your gourd if you think I’m not getting Krav or Angus in here for like ten minutes. I just…I need to know if she heard the Song. I want her to see it was worth it.”

And there goes Lup’s resolve. She nods and smiles a tremulous smile, paying no mind to the tears welling. She removes the plates from the teacups and brings them over to the counter. A sweep of her hand and a scythe materializes out of thin air. She steadies herself against it for a moment as Taako rises to stand beside her. They exchange a glance before Taako gives an encouraging nod. Lup swings the blade effortlessly like she has countless times before. A familiar riiiiip sounds through the kitchen and Lup extends her hand through the tear that formed, waving the scythe away as she does.

Out of the rip walks an older, plump elf woman, a purple shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Soft lines mark her face that indicate a lifetime of joy. She’s a little shorter than the twins but not by much. Her dark waves are pinned up in a bun, her stark white streak still hanging down free like an accessory. She looks incredible. She looks the same as she did when they first met her. She’s smiling wider than the whole world, it seems.

Taako and Lup are doing their best not to openly sob but it’s hard. How can they not? A moment of hesitation passes before they both sweep her up in the tightest hug any of them have ever experienced. The twins each rest their heads on one of her shoulders.

They don’t speak for a moment as they all take in the incredulity, the impossibility of what happened.

“Hi, Tía,” Taako manages to get out between sniffles.

“We have a lot to catch you up on,” Lup says with a wet laugh.

“Believe me, darlings, I’ve heard so much.”

426 notes - Posted April 4, 2022

at least one of thb should have died in wonderland. the place has been designed to get the max suffering out of everyone but it was love that kept them all alive.

Merle (and to a lesser extent, Magnus) gave precious hp to Taako to keep him from biting it

Taako and Merle literally pulled Magnus's soul away from the Astral Plane

Lup devoured and destroyed Edward which destroyed Lydia in the process

and Barry kept them safe in every possible way he could

all huge acts of love in a place full of despair

674 notes - Posted March 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I think being in such close contact with the Light for so many years did kinda do Something to the birds.

because Taako is not charismatic, that's canonical. but, even joke canonical, everyone adores him, desires him, wants to give him all their possessions. people cannot get enough of Taako, even after he dooms a town

Magnus, thanks to his rustic hospitality, is a likeable guy. but he was able to help lead the rebellion that gave him his folk hero status that gave him his rustic hospitality. people were willing to die by his side, this guy who was fairly new to their community

Lucretia managed to begin a whole secret organization and employ a large staff. These missions were deadly, dangerous, and promised the potential to have their very beings wiped from existence. yet people were willing to join the Bureau

these are the most striking instances of this but it's almost like a bit of that craveability brushed off on each of them through all their encounters with it

1,251 notes - Posted March 24, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #false #rip (reeses in pieces)#long post #god is it a long post #not taz

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frothingatthemaw · 1 month

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thats awesome to hear!! im hoping to write something also sometime soon but i can't seem to take my own advice & ive been putting it off for like a week now. whoops :,)

the only matthew lillard movies i've seen are scream, slc punk, hackers & senseless, but i mean he makes such an impression as an actor. i was enraptured with stu & billy when i first watched scream :) ok, heres a little secret... i may be slc punk anon but i actually followed you from the jackass fandom & sent the first slc punk ask because i am a big fan of that movie (not sure if that's even a secret because im 99% sure you know who i am lol). i'd have to rewatch the other movies in order to properly converse about them, it's been a while for them but i think the last time i watched slc punk was only a couple months ago.

i'm flattered you trust my taste :,D & i'll keep an eye out for discussion of green room on this blog then :3

aw well i wish you the best about stuff <3 i, at least, would love to read anything you write :] i believe in the dream!!!! ✨

OHHHH YAYYYY!!!! i’ve watched all of those too! i like them :] which other movie of his is your favorite that you’ve watched? i think mine is definitely scream! i’ve been enamored by him so hard…. his ass bought me a new hyperfix so who knows if that means friend or foe! another movie that he’s in that i would recommend is dead man’s curve. his character is an asshole but i adore him anyways, but also please be weary of triggers in that movie, i’d check does the dog die before watching it. just to be safe and all

WAIT DID YOU? holy shit….. awesome! you’re a real one because god i haven’t been normal about anything on this blog since the jackass hyperfix. thank you for sticking around! <3 i have a guess about who you are! could be wrong though! that makes sense, no worries!

i depend on your taste with my life… you’ve proved to have my trust in it a million percent. and yeah!!! i’ll definitely remember to post about it i promise

#ender.txt #askbox #slc punk anon

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gleefullypolin · 5 months

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Trying to stay neutral in the face of some of the worst takes you've ever seen is...hard. I try to remember that I may have had the same takes if you took away 10+ years of my fandom experiences. Kneejerk reactions and doom spiraling is very much how I expect younger me might have acted. Though I could do without how literally things are taken at the moment, that's tiring.

Glad to be of service! 🫡 If my main weren't connected to a side blog for another fandom where I know I'd bring possible unwanted attention to myself I'd happily out myself.😄

The double standards: it's very sigh worthy in general and I don't disagree, the men and some specifically, are being held to a standard that was probably unfair to hold them to in the first place. I do realize that a lot of stuff has been fanon or built up the last couple of years and I get it, it's hard to lose your idea of someone. I do think that there's a good chance that men in our ships in general are being held to a standard of the female gaze that isn't about physicality but female empowerment in general. So many men judge women for having sex then immediately do what they're saying women shouldn't do.

It's not really fair to the male characters but the idea that a man would wait for and only want one woman, to be powerless against her in the way women are often portrayed for men in regular media--I get it the appeal that it would carry for some. Men are usually held to a standard of some kind they're sure to miss. If you asked me do I remember meeting my significant other I can tell you details and time and place but if you asked him I'd bet he'd not be able to say much other than he says he knows I was it for him.

I'm with you, I hope that people remember that these are real people not the characters they play and even if they were, to mind their manners.

I have come to just not enjoy screeners at all over the years. I remember one using an emoji for something and you can only imagine how that went. They were biased on top of it and were 100% wrong in its intent. It was a little much.

I think if both scenes are true then we have to have the first one to have the other and the latter one is the only one that matters. The audience is not going to remember a sentence or a throwaway line but they'll remember the scenes themselves. If a throwaway line is enough to get the point across in a visual medium, there's no need to have him staring at her longingly. There's no need to create physical tension between them. They can just tell each other and whoop, problems solved.

I think this, if true, can be handled better but I also think people in fandom forget the largest audience is a general one and they're going to need some hand holding reminders of what's going on. Colin being unable to perform is a damning indictment of what he's done to himself and just how much Penelope affects him. And I have to say that two scenes I'd wager are less than 2-3 minutes total are not going to ruin the romance of a show that's going to have 8 near one hour episodes.

If anything about any of it was even mentioned to Penelope or at all after the fact I would be very surprised. This sort of thing feels very much just a way to establish something with Colin himself. I wouldn't be sad to see it not be true but if it is, I feel it's gotten more importance in fandom than the show is ever going to give it.

I can't imagine Colin being needlessly cruel to Penelope, his words were thoughtless and I'd love to know his side of that story but irrespective of romantic feelings, this man cares deeply for her as it is.

Oh my I went back and checked my original Tumblr blog and I first posted 13 years ago and I still cringe immensely as some of the takes I had back then. Spiraling doesn’t even begin to touch what I was doing back then. Like girl, we had full on meltdowns, actual knock down drag out fights, and even in person stand offs in our fandom. I laugh about it now, most of us are either friends, or acquaintances who see each other around on Facebook or twitter but none of it even matters anymore.

But it got so bad there before the show ended that I eventually abandoned that blog and ended up starting over years later AFTER OUAT had pretty ended on my Captain Swan blog where that family is just a very lovely group of women that have tolerated my absolute abandonment due to my complete anxiety of life. Lol

I didn’t know what to expect with Bridgerton, or even what to expect with a regency type show, it really wasn’t my type of show. And I didn’t know that it had existing books with it until after I had seen season 1. All the girls at work were like “OH girl swoon, you have to watch this show.” And I have a very lovely friend, Natalie, who had written a book called “Emmie and the Tudor King” about the Tudors and I was trying very hard to learn all the rules around that world, so I thought what the hell, lets try this. And now here the hell I am! In another fandom with an actively shooting show.

But after season 1 and 2 with Simon, Anthony, and Benedict, I just figured it make 100% sense that Colin would end up sleeping around. LOL because damn…there is always one seen isn’t there. Maybe it’s a Shondaland thing, or a timeframe thing, but its definitely a theme and its coming to our screen whether we want it or not. I saw a comment earlier today somewhere that if we got up and went to the bathroom during it, it would be over before we got back, so I’m taking solace in that!

I hope they treat Nic and Luke with respect after the season airs. I’ve met my fair share of seeing the actors take the heat of their characters and I have a hole in my heart for the trauma I carry around that fandom I spoke of earlier with how fandom got involved in the actors lives and the result. Again, being young and seeing the spirals of fandom, I feel like I could write a book lol.

Lets get rid of screeners. I get why they have them, pump the hype, but do they? Or do they pump the anger and anxiety? Sometimes they use their “power” to pump the ship wars or stir the wrong sentiment. I know the saying is that all attention is good PR but is it really?

I can’t imagine that Pen finds out about the women or the visit he makes there. I mean yes she or perhaps more likely LW may have something to say about his sudden swagger or new found ladies man behavior, but Pen is not a delicate flower either. She is Lady Whistledown and I don’t think she will wilt. I think last season may have hardened her a bit.

#my asks #wonderful people

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mimicmerchant · 4 years

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Just started ACOC, sure hope I don’t get attached to the wrong PCs! Anyway, here’s my favorite character Lapin, love me a snarky chocolate bunny in a cotton candy world

#d20 #dimension 20 #a crown of candy #acoc #lapin #chancellor lapin cadbury #Whoops posted to the wrong blog reposting here!#Zac is very good at playing the chancellor #I also love the sugar plum fairy design and can't wait to work on some art with that #spoilers #zac oyama

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whiskeyandwolfsbane · 2 years

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8/9 - 12:51PM

Whoops. I kind of forgot this blog existed, lol, my bad.

Not much has been happening though so that's alright. Here's the rundown regardless for anybody who might be bothering to keep up with this blog (I know at least two of you, hello!).

So far, everything is healing up pretty well. I haven't really needed painkillers in quite some time, though I've taken some once or twice when my chest happened to have more shooting pains/twinges than usual. Not because I needed it - the pain has been manageable - but because I am kind of worried that if I don't take pain meds, it'll get worse, and I'd rather kick it before it gets to that point. Nothing crazy though, I haven't had the oxycodone in a while.

Itching isn't as bad finally, though it is still frustrating. We've been changing out bandages and cleaning the grafts, which look gnarly as hell but are progressing well, I think. The steri-strips over the incision marks is starting to peel off as the stitches beneath them dissolve. I'm going back to the medical centre again for a post op appointment on the 11th, which is also when I'll yet again attempt to contact someone about that goddamned paperwork.

Ah yeah, the paperwork. Where I'm at there: apparently I was denied paid medical leave because I'm like, 50 hours short of having worked at a real job for an entire year. I wasn't going to bother appealing the decision because like... it's not as though I can magically provide another 50 hours of work out of nowhere, I doubt they'll approve me.

But shortly after I got that news, I got an email from work basically stating that I should appeal it, because if I don't get medical leave approved, all they can do is put me on a thirty day leave of absence, and then I have to use my PTO to cover any other recovery time.

I personally think that sounds like horseshit, especially since (wrong form or not), they have a doctors' note written by my surgeon in his own handwriting stating that I'm not supposed to really go back to work until September 9th. So what exactly can you do except allow me to recover for that long? Firing me over it (since by the way, I don't even have enough PTO, since I've only accrued maybe thirteen hours in the last half a year) seems illegal.

But whatever. I'm gonna appeal it. However, unless I want to actually meet with a court and have a hearing - and I very much do not - what I can do instead is just request a review or something. Unfortunately, for that, I need the correct paperwork - which if you recall, is floating around in Red Tape Hell somewhere in the far off distance.

So I'm gonna wait another day to see if that paperwork gets back to me, but if it doesn't, what I am going to do is contact my social worker - he called that same day I was dealing with this shit at the medical centre and when I told him what was up, he said that if this isn't taken care of in a week, to call him and tell him and he'll try and get people moving.

Unrelated - I hope - but I got a horrible nosebleed the other night too. Like... I'm not gonna get too graphic but it was freaky. Lots of coagulated gross shit and way more blood than I feel is normal. I used to get terrible nosebleeds when I was younger due to stress and cold/dry weather usually, and I could breathe much easier when it stopped, so I'm pretty sure that it wasn't anything serious, just a combination of factors and my congested sinuses finally clearing out somewhat. But I'm trying to keep a mental eye on things just in case it might be something to worry about.

And that's where I'm at with that.

Otherwise... life is about the same as usual. I just play video games, watch videos, try to spend more time reading or drawing or anything but looking at a screen because I do that way too often. I've been obsessed lately with WolfQuest, an oooold game I used to adore as a preteen that I recently rediscovered. You play as a wolf in Yellowstone, and it's centred on realism/teaching you through gameplay about Yellowstone's wolves. I like it.

Mentally: stressed. It was nice up until the 4th or so to just. Not have anything to freak out about. But of course with the nonstop haranguing by my job and the inability to get medical leave squared away ASAP, it's right back to frayed nerves.

Which I hate but hey, capitalism.

I'm stressed about money, and already thinking maybe I should try to be... I dunno. Doing something worthwhile, as in, worthwhile to society so that I can get money to scrape by with, but I'm not physically capable of most things right now. I just really wish I could find an at-home job that I could survive on so I didn't have to put up with this, it's destroying me mentally, and I'm not even WORKING right now. (Which is part of the problem while simultaneously meant to be the solution.)

I'm trying to distract myself as best I can from the thoughts though, because I never get to just exist without stressing about work, and I want to make the most of it before I'm thrown headfirst back into the Rat Race.

And that's about it, yup. Anyway, I'll try and update again soon.

#journal entries

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hellpark · 5 years

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KENNY: Oh god...

KENNY: Ohhh shit-- pick up the damn phone for chrissake--

TOKEN: Kenny...?

TOKEN: You alright?

KENNY: No I ain’t alright!

KENNY: Karen hung up on me!

TOKEN: Oh...

TOKEN: Does that mean you’re done with my phone, then?

KENNY: N-no, no I gotta try n’ call her again.

KENNY: Just.

KENNY: Just gimmie a sec, she’s gotta pick up...

TOKEN: Right... take your time, dude..

KENNY: There’s no time to take!

KENNY: She hung up right after she said some damn stranger was in the house!

TOKEN: Oh, jeez...

KENNY: God dammit, I think she turned her phone off...!

KENNY: Oh god oh god, what the hell am I gonna do thirty fucking miles out of town?!

TOKEN: It’ll be okay Kenny, I’m sure--

KENNY: No, it’s not gonna be okay!

KENNY: Who knows who or what is in that house with her, look at where we are right now!

CRAIG: Hey.

CRAIG: Do you guys wanna shut up, maybe?

CRAIG: You’re distracting me from my shit.

TOKEN: Oh, sorry Craig...

TOKEN: Kenny’s having some issues with Karen, I think.

CRAIG: Uhuh...

CRAIG: I don’t care.

CRAIG: [grumble grumble]

CRAIG: (Can’t even browse tumblr without someone getting hay shoved up their ass right in front of me...)

CRAIG: (Why are either of them even still awake.)

CRAIG: (Why do I have to be cooped up in a stupid barn with all these people right now...)

CRAIG: (Why is--)

CRAIG:

CRAIG: Whhhh...

CRAIG: W--

CRAIG: That’s m--

CRAIG: That’s my blog.

CRAIG: This is on my blog.

CRAIG: Th--

CRAIG: ...

CRAIG: WHAT IS THIS SHIT DOING ON MY BLOG???

CRAIG: I--

KENNY: Craig???

KENNY: What’s the matter, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you yell so loud in your life!

STAN: Yeah, shut the hell up over there, some of us are trying to sleep.

CRAIG: ...Y... you shut up...!

CRAIG: Fuck your sleep, I have a problem!

STAN: Yeah, I know, we kind of got teleported here by a freaking demon, dude.

STAN: We’ve all got problems right now, you’re not special.

CRAIG: I’ll kick your ass!

STAN: Go ahead, it’s already facing right towards you.

STAN: I’ll even wiggle it a little to make it a moving target, if you wanna make a game out of it.

CRAIG: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!

TOKEN: Jesus, dude, what’s wrong?

CRAIG: Besides Stan Marsh being as stupid as ever?!

KENNY: We mean what the hell made you yell so loud, dude???

CRAIG: Oh, I’ll tell you!

CRAIG: This guy is posting shitty selfies of himself on my blog!

CRAIG: MY blog, and he has the audacity to post them with--

CRAIG: W-with...

CRAIG: With him sitting right next to him like it’s nothing!

CRAIG: There’s a circus in my house and I’ll bet you money it was that stupid Tweek demon guy who led us all away so they could party it up in my room!

CRAIG: We should have never let that stupid goat take us all the way out here.

CRAIG: Now they’re all fiddling with my shit and probably having a laugh about it, look at him in this picture!

CRAIG: Look at who’s in the fucking picture with him!!!

KENNY: OH GOD...

CRAIG: Oh god is right!

CRAIG: They’re messing with all my shit!!!

CRAIG: I’m freaking the hell out!

CRAIG: I’m so fucking close to kiCKING STAN’S STUPID ASS STOP SHAKING YOUR BUTT AROUND YOU FUCKING DELIRIATE.

STAN: maybe shut up first lol

KENNY: OH MY GOD, KAREN!

KENNY: SHE SAID SHE WAS HANGING OUT WITH YOUR SISTER IN YOUR HOUSE, CRAIG.

KENNY: SHE HUNG UP AND WON’T ANSWER MY CALLS!

TOKEN: They tried to chuck us all off the side of a bridge, who knows what they could be doing right now?!

CRAIG: TOUCHING MY SHIT IS WHAT THEY’RE DOING!!!

CRAIG: Touching my shit, putting pictures of themselves and Thomas’s corpse sitting in my bedroom!

TOKEN: Craig, I think this is a little more important than them touching your computer!

TOKEN: They could have hurt your guys’ sisters!

CRAIG: BUT LOOK AT WHAT HE POSTED ON MY BLOG!!!!!

KENNY: Craig, I know it’s probably goddamn traumatizing to see that shit right now!!!

KENNY: I know it’s hard for you to grasp this sorta thing during a meltdown.

KENNY: I’m sorry you’re having a difficult time with all of this crap, but there’s people actually in danger in your house right now, man!

CRAIG: Don’t tell me I’m having a meltdown!

TOKEN: Oh my god, okay--

TOKEN: Kenny, let’s just pull ourselves away for a minute here.

CRAIG: Don’t turn your backs on me like that!!!

TOKEN: Just ignore Craig for a second.

TOKEN: There’s demons in Craig’s house, Karen and Craig’s sister are in Craig’s house-- what do you think should be done?

TOKEN: What can we possibly do from here?

KENNY: I ain’t got a damn clue!

KENNY: We gotta get someone over there to help them out!

TOKEN: Okay, well maybe that isn’t such a good idea?

TOKEN: We’ve seen what they can do, right?

TOKEN: Is it smart to drag someone else into this?

KENNY: Token, you don’t have a freakin’ sister, you don’t know what this is like.

TOKEN: Okay. You’re right.

TOKEN: But I don’t know if--

KENNY: Wait.

TOKEN: What is it, man?

KENNY: I know exactly who to call.

KENNY: Ain’t no way he’s tangled all up in this mess yet, neither.

KENNY: Won’t gonna get his ass whooped neither.

TOKEN: Okay, well who’s that?

KENNY: My boyfriend.

DOGPOO: snrrk nsnzznnzzzzzzzzzzz...,.

[ ♫ I’M A BARBIE GIRL, IN A BARBIE WORLD ♫ ]

[ ♫ LIFE IN PLASTIC, IT’S FANTASTIC ♫ ]

DOGPOO: fhnfnhmmghfghg

DOGPOO: [yawn]

DOGPOO: An unknown caller disrupting my sleep, now...?

DOGPOO: Just who on earth could be calling me at this devilish hour of the night...?

DOGPOO: Mmhhello--

KENNY: Hushpuppy stain in the rug, we got some demon huntin’ to do!

KENNY: Grab yer damn shooter n’ get ready to pump lead!!!

DOGPOO: KENNY???

KENNY: Damn right!

DOGPOO: DEMON HUNTING?

DOGPOO: Y’AIN’T PULLIN ME, ARE YOU NOW?

KENNY: Hell no, I ain’t whistlin’ no dixie over here, I’m a gallon o’ gas aways from town and the fuckin’ devil’s stampin’ his hooves in town!

KENNY: Get your red ryder and get ready to shoot some damn eyes out!

DOGPOO: You sound oh so serious, I hardly recognize the tone, honeypot!

DOGPOO: Your words shot me wide awake quicker than the smell of pie in the morning, I just can’t resist a shootin’ with you!

KENNY: I’m serious!

KENNY: I’m cooped up in a barn outta town, and there’s demons runnin’ amok with my damn sister out there!

KENNY: She’s up in a heap of danger and I ain’t got nobody in the world I’d trust more than you to keep her safe right now.

KENNY: Never been more serious in my life, ragamuffin.

DOGPOO: Oh.

DOGPOO: Karen’s caught in the throes of the devil, is she now?

DOGPOO: Seems we really ain’t playing rockahorse.

KENNY: I don’t joke around when it comes to who I love, don’t go reckonin’ I’d do it to you.

DOGPOO: I see.

DOGPOO: Well then, I’d be duller than the heel of my boot if I didn’t think I could do something about that, wouldn’t I?

DOGPOO: A demon or two doesn’t quite sound like nothin’ a shell can’t handle.

KENNY: Dogpoo, these are serious folks you’re gonna be ditzin’ around with.

KENNY: Damn near chucked me n’ my friends off a bridge a couple hours back.

DOGPOO: I still don’t see the issue here, darlin’.

DOGPOO: You might have death’s hand hovering your shoulder, but one look at me and they’ll be wishing they were busy chopping onions instead.

DOGPOO: I’ll get your sister out of the slick, just you wait.

KENNY: Alright. I trust you, mudskip.

KENNY: You’re the rankest varmint this side of Colorado, if anybody’s gonna get them runnin’, it’s you.

DOGPOO: A threat is nothing more than a man who’s pride is in his hands, not his skin.

KENNY: You really grabbin’ your shotty, yeah?

DOGPOO: Would you expect anything less after you’ve excited me so?

DOGPOO: I’ve got an itchy finger just beggin’ for a trigger to pull now.

KENNY: Okay, good.

KENNY: But keep them earholes wide for me, water nugget.

KENNY: You gotta be real damn careful.

DOGPOO: I believe we’ve been over this already, Kenny.

DOGPOO: Am I to understand you’re doubting my abilities here?

KENNY: Not at all.

KENNY: These people ain’t just strangers, though.

KENNY: Well, most of them, anyhoo.

KENNY: You will know one of them, for sure.

KENNY: I ain’t got a clue on how many of them are there, but they’re all stuck up in Tucker’s house.

KENNY: Stick your barrel in the nose of any horned bastard you so damn please, but for the love of all mighty...

KENNY: Don’t let that poor bastard Thomas stick around them.

DOGPOO: You’ll need to be more specific than that, sweetie pie.

DOGPOO: There’s a few Thomas’ in this town that come to mind off of the top of my head.

KENNY: Look, I ain’t gonna dilly dally here-- you’ll know what I mean if you see ‘em.

DOGPOO: Alright, so your shopping list here’s one Karen, one Thomas, and a face o’ lead for a demon or two, huh?

KENNY: Craig’s sister’s there with Karen.

DOGPOO: Only logical, considering what residence I’m being pointed off to.

KENNY: I don’t care what’s done.

KENNY: Just get those kids outta there.

DOGPOO: Anything for you, sunshine.

DOGPOO: Ain’t a day where you can’t count on me.

KENNY: I know.

KENNY: I love you.

DOGPOO: Love you too.

DOGPOO: Well, I suppose there isn’t anything like a two AM witch hunt...

DOGPOO: Oh, poor Kenny... whatever have you gotten yourself into this time.

#south park #kenny mccormick #dogpoo #dogpoo petuski #craig tucker #token black #stan marsh #hellpark

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morvantmortuary · 3 years

Note

Don’t question the speed.

🎁&🎥 for the October Arc?

(I only consider it an honor babe 🖤😂🥰

both of these got long - mea culpa - do they’re below the cut!!

🎁- Any writing advice for people who want to write something like this?

Can I just say how flattered I am that you’d ask this question to begin with? bc I really am!!

My best advice actually applies to all the longer stuff I’ve written, including urges and fswl over on my other blog - apologies if any of it seems obvious:

1. Do the thing that interests you most, and then just do the parts of it that interest you. You put way too much yourself if you think you have to write the Be All End All accurate depiction of whatever thing you’re writing, be it historical archives or mortuary science or Victorian switch relationships. As long as you’ve at least done a reasonable amount of research on your subject (as in, you’re not just walking in cold and hitting “post” when you’re trying to include a lot of really specific detail), then you should be okay! And even then, it’s okay to get things wrong, as long as you’re willing to go “oh whoops my bad” or something of the sort and tidy it up for later. Just remember that the people reading your work aren’t going to be quizzing you on every last detail you put in there (unless they have a lot of time on their hands) - generally, I just appreciate it when I see someone has enthusiasm for what/when/who they’re writing about, and for the rest I’m willing to go along for the ride. But if you’re like me and you tend to dig yourself into big-ass projects that spiral out before you know what you’re doing, you’ll definitely want to make sure you at least like what you’re writing about enough to want to spend hours with it. I’ve been living in Greymoon in my head for months, at this point, and that’s only because I stuck to the parts of it that have interested me most, rather than the parts that maybe logically you’d encounter first. Sounds super basic, I know, but you’d be surprised how many holes I’ve dug myself into on previous stories that never saw the light of day bc the initial fascination didn’t turn out to be sustainable!

2. There’s a million ways to phrase this next part, but I think the most candid way would be me talking to a very dear friend in the gc the other night (hey wanda! ♥️):

I have had multiple moments across all of these stories where I’m like “is this The Line? is this Too Much? Is this going to be the thing where everyone goes ‘oh jesus give me a break’ and dips?”

Whenever you are faced with this choice, I’m going to beg you to do the thing that you’re thinking about holding back. Which sounds so cheesy, but it’s completely true!! Some of my favorite moments in all these stories have been where I’m like “mmm I don’t know” and then entirely leaned into it bc what were people going to do, really??? I’ve absolutely had people stop reading my stuff before after certain moments where I’ve done this, and it sucks, for sure!! but what’s the point of writing something if you’re not going to make it what you want to read, first and foremost??? It’s your baby. Follow your rabbit holes and impulses, because they’re what makes your work your own. 🖤 I had completely different outlines for all three Morvants when I first drafted them, but then when I really started writing, I had a moment for all of them where I felt that pull and followed it, and here we are. :3c

3. Get yourself a supportive group of friends!! Writing is a solo activity, and most of the time when I’m writing, I’m spending hours at a time pretty much dead to the world (except when my cat jumps on my lap and reminds me he needs fed). But the thinking/brainstorming time is so much more fun when you have people you can share your little fictional guys with!! I love writing for this blog and sharing with y’all when you write into the askbox, even if I’m kind of quiet socially. There have been definite points where I’m like “ooh I can’t wait to post this and see what people think omg,” and that’s half the fun 🥰 But also, get some fellow writers who will be there for you when you just wanna bang your head against your keyboard, and the whole thing will feel so much better. 🖤 As I’ve mentioned a few times, I’m really lucky to be part of a gc that originally started as a few fellow fanfic writers hanging out to watch Daniel Brühl movies, and now we have a separate chat where we talk about stuff we’re writing/things we’re trying to iron out/moments we’re just feeling blah about our own work. I really honestly wouldn’t have gotten nearly as far as I did on the October Arc without them, and their kindness and encouragement really has meant the world. 🖤 I also have an IRL friend in my grad program who’s a fellow fiction writer, and we frequently hang out and talk plot/characters when we get coffee each week or hang out on the weekends. Find some people who can get excited with you about the parts where you’re not posting a finished polished thing, and it’ll be so much more fun, I promise!!

🎥- Were there any tv shows, books, or movies that influenced this verse, if any?

this isn’t quite what this question is looking for, but I wasn’t kidding when I said this is one of the most personal stories I’d ever written - certain parts of it are definitely from my life. I had a cancer scare when I was in elementary school, which kind of cracked my existential egg and I’ve been obsessed with death and funerary traditions ever since (much to my mom’s dismay lmao). my dad’s family was Cajun, and spoke mostly French until a generation ago, so I grew up with stories of some of the folklore that’s going to turn up later. I’ve been writing stories set in Louisiana for years; one of the people you’re going to meet in the next Arc is actually from my college capstone that was set in another small town like Greymoon with even more weird shit going on lmao. We actually have family on my dad’s side who are in the funeral business, but unfortunately I’ve never met them lol. I also grew up in Texas, which partially inspired Hector and his family being from Mexico. Maggie (name changed) is based on a beloved family cat who got out one weekend when we were out of town and never came home. Lula (name changed) was based on my late real aunt who I was very close to, growing up. when Maxi’s proving to Reader in Lovesong part 2 he can talk to ghosts, Reader and Lula’s last goodbye was how my last goodbye to her actually went. I got in the habit of leaving her places in my stories where she could pop in if she ever wanted to visit. <3

Part of it is also from my academic background - I’ve been studying the Southern Gothic subgenre for almost a decade now, and I’ve been into Horror since I was a wee babybat renting my first R movie lmao. a lot of this is from a lifetime of being into weird shit, but I tried to break down the major stuff as best I could!

for the story in general:

the True Blood tv series - both for setting vibes, and bc a rewatch with an old friend reminded me how much I love Denis O’Hare. Vincent is hugely based in my mind on his turn as Russell Edgington in s3, especially his news station monologue - check it out if you haven’t seen it, ever.

the Van Helsing movie with Hugh Jackman - this inspired my love of huge masquerade scenes that are actually a trap, plus I just love how earnestly big and sweeping and cheesy it is.

Angela Carter’s The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories - there’s a reason I listed this as Rora’s favorite book in particular, which I’ll get into in a minute, but also her prose so inspires me and my concepts of romance that I can’t not give it credit for affecting the story overall.

Nuke’s Top 5, Nexpo, and Reignbot on YouTube - these are three of my favorite creepy Youtube channels, and I keep them on rotation when I need a dose of inspiration/need to get into a spooky mood. [Big ass content warning for these, because some of the IRL things the latter two cover in particular can be really quite upsetting.]

Nexpo actually also turned me on to Local 58, whose two videos “Contingency” “You are on the Fastest Available Route” and “Show for Children” are inspirations for the vibe of Greymoon as a whole. (Warning on Contingency, as it’s a fake news bulletin telling people to kill themselves. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

The Interview with a Vampire movie, mostly for setting vibes but also for how the human members of They Who Decide see themselves. (Plus, Tom Cruise in that wig! Goddamn!)

Dangerous Games to Play in the Dark by Lucia Peters

Romance Novels in general - specifically, Sarah MacLean or Lisa Kleypas. Just try one. Trust me.

Maxi:

Bryan Fuller’s Pushing Daisies series - I think Maxi and Ned are really quite similar in a lot of ways (although Maxi is a bit less withdrawn due to his work), but especially in how they feel about Final Them and Chuck, respectively.

The original Candyman film - good lord, if I don’t have a huge residual crush on Tony Todd. Maxi’s “Be my victim” speech in spellbound (reprise) is an homage to the same speech Robitaille gives Helen at the climax of the movie. It’s flawed for sure, and parts of it haven’t aged well, but gosh if I don’t still love it.

Caitlin Doughty’s “Ask a Mortician” channel on Youtube - she’s been really great for learning about the technical bits of the Mortuary, plus she and the Order of the Good Death are up to some really good work when it comes to death acceptance/awareness/planning in the US.

Truman Capote’s Other Voices, Other Rooms - there’s a lot that can be said about this book, and there’s a reason I named it Maxi’s favorite. It’s got some flaws related to when it was written (namely its treatment of its Black characters), but I feel like Maxi would relate a lot to Joel in particular of just feeling lost and nothing feeling like it should.

The Addams Family, obviously, but especially the two ‘90s Barry Sonnenfeld movies and the ‘60s sitcom! He’s both inspired by Gomez, and in the story itself, he thinks of Gomez v much as Goals

A lot of Maxi’s specific arc was inspired by when I was reading Carol Clover’s Men, Women, and Chainsaws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film for my grad school exams lmao. It was written in the ‘80s and ‘90s, so some of the theory is out of date, but I still find it super helpful!

Anything to do with the Mütter Museum, but especially the helpful videos on their channel on YouTube.

Hector:

Hector’s particular look was inspired by Diego’s role in the Flatliners remake - it’s not a great? movie?? but teehee handsome <3 He was actually almost an ER trauma surgeon before I saw that photo of Diego holding the film camera and went “OH HELLO”

The filmography and writings of Guillermo del Toro in general, but particularly El Espinazo del Diablo (The Devil’s Backbone). Fun fact - this is the movie where I actually got his mom’s family name, from my favorite character in the film.

J.A. Bayona’s El Orfanto (The Orphanage). This movie is one of my favorites, but it’ll absolutely break your heart, I’m warning you.

I didn’t really have this movie in mind when I first wrote for Hector originally, but now I can’t watch Savageland without thinking of him. It’s a found footage movie that acts as an examination of the aftermath of a zombie attack on a town on the Arizona/Mexico border, and the only person who really knows what happened is a Mexican man who took photos of the attack as it was happening, and is currently being held as a scapegoat. It’s one of my favorite sleeper movies, but there’s a couple characters who are based off A/lex J/ones and J/oe A/raipo who can really make it hard to watch.

Various animated works by Jorge Gutiérrez, and not just because he tends to cast Diego in some of them lmao <3

Inverting this question, I actually wasn’t thinking of Coco at all when I was writing Hector, and it was only after I’d published his intro post that I remembered the name of one of the characters and I was like “...Oh whoops :’D”

Various works by Silvia Moreno-Garcia, whom I adore

A Head Full of Ghosts, by Paul Tremblay

I’m actually right now re-reading Hex’s favorite book (Roland Barthes’s Camera Lucida) and reading Beyond the Dark Veil: Post-Mortem and Mourning Photography by The Thanatos Archive to get ready for his upcoming arc!

Rora:

The Penny Dreadful series - parts of it are a mess, and the ending is really disappointing, but Eva Green’s tenure as Vanessa Ives absolutely enchanted me and terrified me and took my breath away. I knew if anyone was going to be Maxi’s sister in all her cold poised fury, it had to be her. If you watch anything, at least watch the second episode for the seance scene, where Eva Green scared me under the covers the first time I saw it with just her face and her voice.

Anything by Shirley Jackson, but especially We Have Always Lived in the Castle - Merrikat was a huge inspiration for Rora as I originally imagined her, when she was going to be stuck being eighteen forever (before I decided that would be kind of a drag).

The titular story, “The Lady of the House of Love,” and “The Company of Wolves” from Angela Carter’s The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories - so much of Rora’s relationship to gender and her sexuality is shaped by theses stories, and I wanted to write a character just as sharp as one of Carter’s

Her Body and Other Parties by Carmen Maria Machado

Carson McCuller’s The Ballad of the Sad Cafe, specifically for the heroine’s complicated feelings relating to her own gender/femininity

Parts of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein <3

Marya Morevna in Cat Valente’s Deathless as much as the author drives me insane now

the novel of The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood (for her relationship to her mother Mathilde)

and finally, Alice Hoffman’s Practical Magic

okay! so this turned into a whole long giant thing/commentary and I’m so sorry for that lmao. :’D If you’ve read this far, nonny, you’re a saint and I love you. Thanks for being kind enough to ask (even though you might be sorry now!)

#nice people #nonny #ask memes

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theladyofdeath · 4 years

Text

The Ranch {16}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @snelbz x @tacmc

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

The Ranch Masterlist

Cassian stared at the broken window, his hands on his hips. Beau was groaning at his feet, fully aware that something had happened that was total shit. Nesta was cooking breakfast for the guests inside of the B&B. She decided that a daily morning breakfast would be a regular occurrence, and she wanted to make the first morning breakfast a grand occasion.

Even if she hadn’t slept at all the night before.

Every time she drifted off, she was panicking, which meant Cassian had stayed up all night comforting her. Which, he loved doing, loved being there for her, felt it was his duty to be there for her, but none of that erased the fact that he was completely, utterly exhausted.

A truck pulled up behind him and the engine turned off. A few seconds later, Azriel was standing beside him. With a whistle, he said, “Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Cassian breathed. “Just after midnight. Brick flew through the window, Nesta was screaming bloody murder, Beau nearly shot himself out the door and tore his balls off.”

“Maybe he should’ve,” Azriel muttered, stepping closer to the broken window, careful to avoid the glass shards, even though he was wearing his boots. “Tomas did this?”

“Who else would’ve?” Cassian grumbled.

Even Azriel couldn’t argue with that. “Well, let’s put some plastic over it, then I’ll bring you into town to get a new window and help put it in.”

Cassian didn’t have any plastic. If he had, he would have patched it up in the middle of the night. Instead, he had laid a thin piece of plywood over the hole.

“Probably best to just go ahead and get the window,” Cassian said with a yawn.

Azriel nodded and the two of them got in the truck, heading for the main house.

“Aside from that, how was the first night?” He asked, nodding towards the house in front of them.

Cassian blew out a breath. “Good, I think. Nobody called us about anything, but from what I can tell, nothing was done to the house.”

Just Nesta’s small house that the two of them had been occupying.

They parked in front of the big wrap around porch, heading up the stairs. A couple was sitting on porch swing, and they waved as Cassian and Az walked into the house.

There was sound everywhere, people bustling to and fro. It was almost unnerving after the silence of the house for so many months.

“Nes?” He called her name, even though he knew exactly where she was.

“Kitchen!”

Walking into the kitchen, they found the table full, both of food and people in the chairs. Nesta was still at the stove, happily stirring away at a pan of gravy while her guests stuffed themselves.

“Smells great, baby.” He pressed a kiss to her head and she smiled.

Her eyes were lit up. “Thanks. Az, are you hungry?”

“Elain fed me on the way out the door, but I might say no next time.” He was eyeing the spread of classic country breakfast on the table.

Nesta laughed, and turned to Cassian. “What’s up?”

He gently took her hand, rubbing small circles into the back of it. “We gotta go into town. I’m fixing that window today.”

He watched the color leech from her face.

“Please don’t leave me here alone.”

Cassian hesitated.

“It’s fine,” Azriel said, quickly. “Rhys has today off, I’ll pick him up on the way and we’ll get it here. I’ll let you know when we’re back.”

“Are you sure?” Nesta said, suddenly realizing that it took more than one man to get a window into the back of a truck.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Azriel said, with a genuine smile. “And, uh, now that I think about it, maybe I’ll take a biscuit to go?”

Nesta chuckled, although the light didn’t reach her eyes. She wrapped a biscuit in a napkin and handed it over, then Azriel was off.

Cassian looked around at the guests, chatting happily and stuffing their faces.

“You should be proud,” Cassian said, quietly.

Nesta nodded before turning back to the stove.

“I, um, want your blessing on something.”

Nesta froze before looking at him over her shoulder.

“Maybe we should talk alone,” Cassian went on.

She turned to look at him. “My blessing for what?”

Cassian hesitated, then sighed. “I want to go talk to Tomas.”

“No.” Nesta turned back to the stove.

Cassian gave her a look before walking away, into the laundry room that was off to the side, knowing full well she would follow. Nesta Archeron did not leave conversations unresolved.

She closed the door behind her before asking, “Why the hell would you do something stupid like that?”

“Because he threatened you,” Cassian said, through his teeth. “Because he threatened me, and our guests, and our unborn child, and he can’t do that.”

“You can’t just-.”

“I’m just going to talk,” Cassian said. “Or, I can go to the police for vandalism, but I’m going to do one of the two, it’s your call.”

Nesta crossed her arms over her chest. “I’d rather you fix the window and we pretend this never happened.”

Cassian stared at her. “I can’t do that.”

“You can’t fight your way out of this, Cass!” She said, beginning to pace in the small room. “Fighting with Tomas already ruined your roping career.”

Cassian’s jaw hardened. “I was defending you.”

“And I love you for that, but it doesn’t change the fact that what you did was stupid.” Nesta stopped and looked at him, putting her hands on his chest. “I’ve seen how good you were, you should’ve won that championship. But you didn’t. You let your anger and a stupid decision take that from you.”

Cassian sighed and said, “Make your choice: either I go to the police or he and I have a man to man talk.”

Nesta’s eyes, shimmering with frustrated tears, flicked down to his hurt shoulder. She opened the laundry room door, looking back at him, and said, “At least wait until Azriel and Rhys get back,” before shutting the door a little harder than necessary and walking back into the kitchen.

He felt guilty, but he wasn’t going to let that guilt talk him out of this. He had to talk to Tomas, had to let him know that this wasn’t okay.

Nesta had gone through enough.

She didn’t need to go through anymore.

So, he did as she asked and waited until Azriel and Rhys got back with the window before grabbing the keys without a word and driving himself into town, without so much as a goodbye to anyone.

He was seeing red.

Not only did this man make Nesta throw up out of fear at her own grand opening, but he threw a fucking brick through their window, scaring her even more, then Cassian was the one who got snapped at for wanting to correct it?

That wasn’t going to cut it.

He had finally gotten his happiness and Tomas fucking Mandray wasn’t going to take that away from him.

Cassian drove through town and to the other side, where he pulled onto the grounds of a small ranch. He spotted Tomas right away, working on a tractor just outside of the garage.

Cassian was opening the door before he even put the truck in park. “What the fuck is your problem, Mandray?”

“Don’t have a problem at all,” Tomas said, shit-eating grin on his face. “You got a problem?”

It took everything in Cassian to not hurl that brick back into his smug face. But he’d made a promise to Nesta. He was only here to talk, he wouldn’t start a fight with Tomas.

So instead, he very calmly reached into the truck, grabbed the brick off of the passenger seat, and lifted it up so Tomas could see it. “I think you left this at my girlfriend’s house.”

Cassian promised he wouldn’t start a fight with Tomas Mandray.

He didn’t say anything about finishing one.

Without another word, he launched the brick through Tomas’ workshop window.

“You fucking dick,” he yelled. “I’m going to fucking k-.”

“Heard you bought the old Carlson ranch,” Cassian interrupted. “Had to come give my congratulations.”

He swore he could see Tomas face change color as his own trick was used against him.

Cass continued, “You know, I hadn’t even heard you were back in town until just a week or two before Nesta came home.” He slammed the truck door and moved closer to the shop. Closer to Tomas. “Was that a coincidence or were you hurling bricks through her window in Paris, too?”

“Oh, fuck you.” The tone in Tomas’ voice… that was hatred. Pure and unadulterated hatred. “You think you get to come in, like some white knight? You’re saving the day again?”

Cassian wasn’t able to stop himself as he got in Tomas’ face. “You do anything to put my girlfriend or child in danger, ever again, and I will gladly reenact the ass whooping I gave you back at Worlds.”

His phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket, answering it without looking, knowing who it was.

“Yes?”

“That’s enough. Whatever you’ve said, it’s enough.” She had no idea how wrong she was. It would never be enough. “Please.”

With a deep sigh, he said, “Okay. I’ll be right there.”

Nesta’s relieved voice came across the ear piece, loud and clear. “Thank you, Cass. I love you.”

He stared Tomas down, knowing he’d heard every word of their conversation, and said, “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

He hung up and slipped the phone back into his back pocket. “Don’t ever come on our property again. It’ll be the last mistake you ever make.”

He turned and was heading for the truck, when Tomas spoke up. “Has Nesta ever told you how she found out she wasn't able to have kids? Or, well, wasn’t supposed to be able to.”

Cassian froze. Mostly everyone had guessed that Nesta’s pregnancy was an accident, but her supposed infertility wasn’t a known fact.

He turned. “How the hell do you know that?”

“Who do you think was holding her hand in a Parisian women’s clinic?”

Cassian blinked. “What?”

“She didn’t leave me here, Nazari,” Tomas said, with complete satisfaction that Cassian was caught off guard. “I was with her there, too, for a little while. I was there when we found out she couldn’t have kids. I was there when she cried, when she brushed it off and said it wasn’t a big deal. I was the one who dried her tears. Did she tell you that?”

No.

No she hadn’t.

Cassian’s jaw locked, but he said nothing.

“You’ve been with her for months,” Tomas spat, eyes turning cold, angry. “I was with her for years. She can try all she wants to, but in the end, she always comes back to me.”

“Stop talking,” Cassian warned.

“You sound worried,” Tomas crooned, eyes lighting with satisfaction. “Jealous, even.”

Cassian took a second to think about his next move, even as that anger brewed beneath the surface. He had already broken his window, had said what he had to say, and Nesta’s words replayed in the back of his mind.

Nesta.

Who apparently hadn’t told him the entire story of her and Tomas.

“Just stay off my fucking property,” Cassian said, meeting Tomas’s gaze as he climbed back into the truck, slammed the door shut, and made his way back to the road.

He kept the radio off as Tomas’ words came back to him. Tomas’ words, not Nesta’s. She had made Cassian believe that she had left Tomas here to begin again.

He felt foolish.

He felt pissed.

He took the turn onto the property a little too quickly and fishtailed, spitting rocks in every direction from the little gravel drive.

They were all sitting on the porch, his mismatched family. Rhys was the closest, leaning against the stair railing. Azriel was by the door. Feyre sat on the railing next to her husband. And Elain, sweet Elain was sitting on the porch swing.

Holding Nesta’s hand.

Cassian parked in front of the house and cut the engine. The silence was almost as defeating as the roar of the engine had been. He got out of the truck and shut the door with a gentleness he honestly didn’t think he was capable of in that moment.

Azriel said, “Give me my keys, asshole.”

Cass threw them to him, without looking, and started heading away from the main house, towards his cabin.

“Cass?”

The sound of his name from her lips clanged through him. He didn’t stop walking.

Light footsteps on wood. “Cass!”

Rhys called, “Cass, where are you going?”

He didn’t stop.

Her voice was hurt. “Cassian…”

He couldn’t stop.

Couldn’t stop because he couldn’t bear for them to see the silent tears streaming down his face.

Beau was at his side in an instant, trailing after his master with a soft whine as he made his way down the dirt path. He cursed himself as he angrily wiped at his face, steps hurried, urgent until he made it to his cabin.

Perhaps he should have locked it, but he hadn’t, and the door swung open easily. Beau laid on the couch as Cassian stomped to the fridge and pulled out a mostly full bottle of whiskey.

Tomas had been with Nesta in France?

The thought still echoed in his mind, leaving him breathless.

She would be here soon, no doubt, demanding to know what had happened.

Cassian looked at the bottle, unscrewed the top, and downed as much of the burning liquor as he could handle. He stopped, muttered a curse, and downed some more.

Beau only watched with concern in his pleading brown eyes.

It was only a few minutes before he heard footsteps outside, but the heavy, booted stride wasn’t the one he expected.

The door opened and Azriel came in. Cassian didn’t look up from the knot in the wooden flooring as it shut and Az made his was into the living room. He sat in the chair beside the couch.

“Your pregnant girlfriend is crying her eyes out right now. Any reason you’re not up there talking to her?”

Cassian looked at him then, letting him see the tears shimmering on his own face.

“Shit,” Azriel breathed, genuine surprise written on his face. “What happened out there?”

Cassian stayed quiet for a long moment, looking down at Beau while he fiddled with the top of the whiskey bottle. Then, he asked, “Did you know that Tomas was in France? With her?”

The stricken look on Azriel’s face told him that he didn’t.

“He was there with her for years,” Cassian said, that anger returning, fueling his words. “Living with her. She fucking stayed with him, Az. Which means that I not only lost my career, my dream, for fucking nothing, but that Nesta has been lying to me for months.”

Azriel opened his mouth to say something, but his words failed him.

“I feel like an idiot,” he said, taking another sip from the bottle. “I’m not up there comforting her right now because every word that’ll come out of my mouth will be one I end up regretting.”

Azriel stayed quiet for a few more minutes. Finally, he said, “She’s scared.” Cass looked up at him. “She thinks you did something stupid, that Tomas is somewhere laying in a ditch.”

Cassian scoffed. “Glad she’s so worried about him.”

“She’s not worried about him, you dumbass,” he said, disbelief coloring his tone. “She’s worried about you going to jail.”

Cassian didn’t answer, just took another swig from the bottle.

Azriel asked, “You’re not going to talk to her?”

“Not until I can be sure I won’t say something wrong.” He ran a hand through his hair, it had come loose from the hair tie at some point. “I just need to get my head on straight.”

“She’s carrying your child,” Azriel said, incredulously.

“Right now, all indicators are pointing to me being just a sperm donor so Tomas Mandray can have his perfect fucking life with the woman I’ve been in love with since high school.”

Azriel’s hazel eyes had gone cold. “I’m going to assume that’s the booze talking, because right now, you’re acting like a fucking prick.” He stood heading for the door. “She lied to you, yes, and that’s fucked up, but she didn’t do it on purpose. She wouldn’t do anything to hurt you because she loves you.”

He didn’t say anything else as he walked out, slamming the door shut behind him.

Cassian watched him go, not caring that Azriel was right. He was acting like a prick, but he deserved to be able to act like a prick.

He wasn’t in the wrong here.

He hadn’t fucking lied.

All she had ever told him about Tomas had pointed to the fact that she dumped him after that day at the rodeo, after she found out he was cheating, after Cassian had kicked his ass. And now he finds that all he had thought was complete bullshit? Had she thought she was pregnant with Tomas’s child at some point? Was that how they had found out she couldn’t have kids? Fuck, Tomas knew she thought she couldn’t have kids, a fact that hardly anyone knows.

Cassian felt fucking stupid.

And betrayed.

He finished off the bottle and tossed the glass onto the side table with a clatter, forcing Beau on his feet, instantly alarmed. Cassian pulled himself up from the couch and swayed, nearly falling back over. He steadied himself, though, and took one step forward, trying hard to clear his vision before taking another.

Azriel thought he should talk to Nesta so badly?

Fine.

He would.

If he could fucking make it there.

Cassian threw open the front door but misjudged the front steps. He tripped, and went tumbling down the three, his shirt ripping on his back over the bent wood.

“Fuck,” he yelled, the word slurred as he laid in the grass.

He didn’t feel much pain, though.

Shoutout to the whiskey.

Whiskey was a gift, making his body numb, like he was floating on air. His eyes fluttered open and he was staring up at the clear afternoon sky. The sun was bright, not a cloud in sight.

It was a perfect day.

Full of utter shit.

With a grunt, Cassian pulled himself into sitting position and pushed himself back onto his feet. Attempting to catch his balance, he looked up toward the main house.

None of them were on the porch now, and Azriel’s truck was no longer parked where he’d left it out front. He stood, wobbling slightly, planning to head to the main house, but he sighed.

They couldn’t hash this out in front of the guests, they very first guests they’d booked. No, he wouldn’t do that to Nesta, wouldn’t embarrass her like that, or tarnish her reputation.

So he stumbled to the small house by the river, window still smashed to hell and opened the door.

He wasn’t expecting to find Nesta inside, sitting with Elain and Feyre on the couch.

He cleared his throat, trying to make his intentions clear. Beau scurried off to the bedroom.

Her sisters didn’t move an inch. Feyre even looked like she was inclined to light him on fire.

“I need to talk to Nesta,” he said, making his voice as clear as possible. Neither made a move to stand. He added, “Alone.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered, squeezing Elain’s hand in her own.

Even Elain have him a distasteful look as they passed him, out the door. Cassian closed it behind them and turned to face his girlfriend.

She lifted her chin but said nothing.

“Tell me about France,” he demanded, voice low.

“You’re drunk,” she said, then nodded to his arm. “And you’re bleeding.”

He looked down near his elbow and, sure enough, blood was trickling from a scratch, thanks to his fall down his porch stairs.

“I’m fine,” he muttered. “Now, tell me about France.”

He could see the fear in her eyes that she tried to conceal as she said, “What about it?”

The question had been replayed in his head so many times that it didn’t sound right coming out loud now. “How long was he there?”

She blinked. “Who are you talk-?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Nes.” He leaned against the kitchen counter. “How long was Tomas in France? Hmm? Cause I sure felt like a dumbass when he was throwing your infertility in my face, something your own sisters didn’t even know. Telling me how he held your hand in the clinic and dried your tears and then fucked you to make you forget.”

She’d gone pale, the blood even leaching from her lips, and Cassian thought she might be about to vomit again. “He told you?”

Cassian could feel his heart breaking in his chest, thought he might audibly hear the crack, as she confirmed what he was hoping was a last ditch effort by Tomas to lie and get under his skin. “Sure as fuck did.” He tried to stop his voice from wavering, cleared his throat before he spoke again. But it didn’t stop his voice from breaking as he said, “Why didn’t you?”

Nesta tried to speak but a sudden sob came out instead. Cassian felt guilty for making her cry, but he didn’t show it. “He was there for just under two years,” Nesta said, at last, words quiet as tears streamed down her cheeks. “He came, asking for forgiveness, begging me to take him back, saying he wanted to start again. We had a scare. I...had thought I was pregnant but when we went to the doctor, that was when I found out I couldn’t- couldn’t have kids.” The words were barely audible through her sob, through her heartache. Cassian was breathing harder, but his feet stayed planted, just within the door. “He left me after that, weeks later. I hadn’t seen him again. Not until that day we went into town and ran into him at the hardware store.”

Cassian had nothing to say. She was the one crying, but Cassian just felt numb.

Nesta took a deep, shaky breath. “I’m sor-.”

“You lied to me,” Cassian breathed. “I’m the father of your child, and you fucking lied to me.”

“Cass, don’t-.”

“Stop,” he said, but there was no bite in his voice, only exhaustion from the whiskey, from the lies.

He turned to take a step toward the door, but Nesta was on her feet, her eyes narrowing. Her voice was quiet when she snapped, “Don’t you fucking dare walk away from me.”

Cassian stilled, slowly looking up to meet her gaze. “Seriously? You’re a fucking liar, Nesta! I gave everything to you! Even before you knew I existed, I gave everything to you! I don’t care that he was there, Nesta, if you wanted to repeat your mistakes, over and over again, that’s on you, but you lying about it to me? Making me think it never happened? Well, shit, Nes, if you’re always gonna go back to him, what the fuck am I even doing here?”

“Stop,” she seethed.

“When are you gonna get bored with me and go back to that trash?” He knew it was the alcohol speaking, but he couldn’t stop himself. “It seems to be a trend of yours.”

“You’re being an ass-.”

“Is he gonna be the one my kid calls dad, huh?” Cassian spat, and Nesta froze, her face paling, once more. “Or, were you lying to me about all that, too? Maybe Tomas is his dad, maybe you were fucking him-.”

Nesta’s hand came at his face so quickly that he couldn’t collect himself before her open palm came forcefully in contact with his cheek.

He couldn’t believe the words had come out of his mouth. Couldn’t believe he’d said them aloud. But he refused to see himself as the sole problem in the situation. He may not have been able to hold his tongue, but she was the one who had kept the truth from him.

That slap had all but sobered him up and he needed to go.

He didn’t say a word as he turned from her, walked into the back bedroom and start grabbing his shit, throwing it into a backpack he’d found in the closet.

“Are you leaving me?”

Her voice came from the doorway, and when he turned to look at her, the sadness on her face nearly brought him to his knees. Instead he continued to pack up his bag, grabbing necessities he couldn’t get from main house. “No. Of course not. But I’m staying in the cabin tonight.”

She begged, “Cassian, please-.”

“I can’t stay here tonight,” he said, voice breaking. “I’m going to keep saying things I’m going to regret. And I’m-.” He closed his eyes, fighting the moisture he felt threatening to spill over again. He couldn’t stop the break in his voice. “I’m so fucking hurt, Nesta. You, of all people, you lied to me. I need time to myself, to think.”

He ignored her protests, ignored her tears as he hauled the bag over his shoulder and left, hurrying past Elain and Feyre, who had been waiting on the porch, no doubt hearing every word he’d said. He strode into the cabin and threw the bag down before he started jogging down the path that led to the stables. Behind the stables was an old shed, which he pushed open with his shoulder.

His wood working supplies and a heap of wood laid just inside. He used to do it more, his wood working, before Isaac died, when he’d had more time. He’d sold quite a bit of the furniture he’d made through the years, leaving him with one hell of a savings.

He loved it.

And he was good at it.

And it took his mind off things.

And right now, there was only one thing on his mind.

He worked throughout the night, taking his aggression out on the wood, hacking and chipping and carving and sawing.

He didn’t even know what he was making until it took form in front of him. He just let the wood find itself in his skilled hands.

When the sun was breaking over the trees, he walked back to the cabin, carrying the piece in his arms. He was surprised to find Beau dozing on the front porch, locked out. “What are you doing out here, bud?” He asked, leaning down to scratch behind his soft ears. Beau whined at the door.

He opened the door and immediately knew why Beau had been forgotten outside.

Nesta was asleep on his couch, one of his team roping hoodies swallowing her. He softly closed the door and walked around the room, setting the piece on the wooden coffee table with a thud.

Nesta’s eyes opened and she blinked a few times, before her eyes focused on Cassian.

And then on the small, wooden cradle he’d set down on the table.

Nesta’s eyes slowly trailed up to Cassian’s as she brought her knees up to her chest. “What is this?”

“A bassinet,” Cassian said, his voice low, “and an apology.”

Nesta slowly reached out her fingers to brush along the smooth surface. It was flawless. Her lips parted as she took a deep breath.

“I’m not going to pretend I’m not pissed, Nesta,” he continued, his hands in his pockets, “but I didn’t mean the things I said. I was drunk and I was mad, but I was wrong to say the things that I did.”

She nodded, subtly, still staring at the cradle. Her eyes lined with silver. “It’s beautiful, Cassian.”

She still wouldn’t look at him.

His jaw tightened. He hated making her cry, but this wasn’t a conversation that they could sweep under the rug. He sat down next to her, not quite touching her, but also not far away.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, voice quiet.

He would keep his temper in check, he had no choice not to.

She just continued to brush her finger along the smooth, curved edge. “Where did you get this?”

“I made it.” There was no bragging, no pride.

“You…made it?” Her voice was incredulous. “How?”

He stood and held it out his hand to her. “I’ll show you.”

He lead her down the path, past the stables and to the workshop. He shoved the door aside and Nesta’s eyes didn’t know where to look first. “Cass…”

“Nesta, please.” His voice broke again. She turned to look at him, leaning against the open door frame, seeing the man in front of her, the man she loved, more broken than he’d ever been. His eyes were lined with silver. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

Nesta’s shoulders sagged as she looked away from him, eyes drifting around his little workshop. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Tomas in Paris. No one knew, because… because I was ashamed of it.”

Her words were near silent, but they filled the little shed. Cassian said nothing, and she didn’t dare look at him again as she went on. “I should have told you. And I’m sorry you had to hear about it from him. But you know, now, Cass. All of it, all my secrets. I continuously went back to a shitty, mentally abusive relationship because that’s what I thought I deserved for so long.”

Cassian couldn’t help the tear that fell from his eye. He blamed it on the fact that he’d gotten drunk and stayed up all night, that he was too old for that shit, but he knew that wasn’t why.

“I have always feared how much you love me,” she whispered. “Since the moment I met you… You’ve been so passionate, so genuine, and I didn’t know how to handle that. Then I learned that you were the one that beat up Tomas for cheating on me… I knew I shouldn’t have gone back to him, Cass, knew I shouldn't have taken him back when he showed up in Paris, but I was weak. And I didn’t care, you know? I didn’t care if I got into a relationship that wasn’t…ideal. I stayed with him because I deserved it after all I’d done throughout the years. My family didn’t talk to me. I pushed everyone away, for the most part. But Tom? He was my only consistency. After he left in Paris, though, I was done. I was content on being alone. And I always feared him, a little bit, even before I knew I had real reason to. He’s a cruel man, and I have had nothing to do with him for years.” She turned to meet him, then, her pale cheeks red and blotchy. “This baby is yours, and yours alone. Half you, half me. Tomas is dead to me, Cass. He haunts my dreams and plagues my memories, but he is not a part of my life or my future.”

Cassian didn’t speak. Nesta knew he was processing, knew he hadn’t ignored her confession, that he was turning it over and over in his head. So instead of interrupting him, instead of distracting him, she began to walk through his shop. There were things of every shape and size, from a towering wardrobe to the tiniest, most detailed figurines. She saw chairs, and platforms, pallets and easels. There were different tools used to shape and sand and manipulate the wood into whatever shape he wanted.

Her fingers were skimming across the surface of an unfinished kitchen table with thick, rustic legs, when Cassian’s voice came from right behind her. “You two are the most important things in my life.” She turned expecting to find him by the door, but he was in the heart of the workshop with her. “I said some shit that I didn’t mean, and I’m sorry.” He tucked some of her loose hair behind her ear. “I was hurt and drunk and confused and…” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Nesta. I love you and I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know,” she breathed, reaching up to cup his face in her hands. “I am, too.”

He leaned down and kissed her, softly, her arms wrapping around his neck as he did so.

“I promise to be truthful,” Nesta said, running her hands down his broad arms. “Always. Every day.” Her fingers stopped and grazed the cut on his arm, just above his elbow.

Cassian chuckled, surprising her. She looked up to meet his gaze, his tired eyes lit with amusement.

“I fell down my porch stairs yesterday,” Cassian mumbled.

Nesta, eyes still misty, broke out in a grin. “Your feet are too big to walk on when you’re drunk.”

“You know what they say about big feet,” Cassian said, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“They come with a cocky attitude?” Nesta asked, her arms resuming their position, hands clasped behind his neck.

Cassian laughed, breathlessly. “Close enough.”

He lifted her up against him, taking a few steps back until he was setting her on an empty spot on his workshop table. His rough hands ran down her thighs as he kissed her again, his teeth tugging gently on her bottom lip.

“I have to go make breakfast for the guests,” she said, quietly, not wanting to ruin the moment, but knowing her duties.

“What time?” he asked.

“Eight,” she said, quietly.

Cassian pulled his nearly-dead phone out of his pocket before shoving it right back in, his lips finding her neck. “That’s an hour from now.”

She laughed, but leaned her head back, giving him better access. Even then, she said, breathlessly, “One more day. Doctor’s orders.”

His hand wove into her hair, tilting her head down. He said, “Fuck the doctor’s orders,” and kissed her, hard, pulling her body against his.

Her arms tightened around his neck.

The hand that wasn’t tugging on Nesta’s hair lifted the hem of his sweatshirt she wore. His fingers skimmed along her back, every pass going lower and lower...

She wasn’t wearing anything beneath the hoodie.

He pulled back, eyes wide in surprise.

Her lips were swollen from his kisses, but he could see her cheeks redden. “I might have been planning to apologize myself. Yours was just better.”

“I don’t know, yours looks pretty good…” he mumbled, his thumbs brushing over her peaked nipples as he palmed her breasts. “The fact that you’re wearing nothing but boots right now is, like, the center of every fantasy I’ve ever had.”

Nesta laughed quietly as she wrapped her legs around Cassians waist and pulled him into her. She tugged on his shirt until his chest was bare and her fingers were exploring him hungrily.

They skimmed over that red, angry scar, barely eliciting a reaction from him. Just a slight pull of air through his teeth.

“Does it still hurt?” The words were a whisper, the early morning quiet this far from the city.

He shook his head. “No. It’s actually pretty numb now, just sore sometimes.” He took her hand, gently pressing the palm down over his chest, rather than her fingers above. She could feel the steady beat beneath his skin. “This is the only thing I feel there now. And it’s yours.”

A slow smile captured her lips as she kissed him, passionately, her mind empty of all thoughts except for one: how much she loved this man before her. Even with all of his imperfections, his anger being at the top of that list. But she knew that he loved her just the same.

With hasty fingers, she undid the button that held up his jeans, fully aware of how hard he’d become.

It had been a while.

Too long.

The low groan that escaped his throat as she undid his zipper told her as much.

He reached between them, wanting to work her slowly, to have her falling apart on his hand, to…

“You’re already soaked, sweetheart,” he breathed.

As if it were explanation enough, she tossed her head back and said, “I need you, Cass.”

That was enough for him.

He surprised her though, not by roughly slamming his cock inside her, like she expected - and wanted, truthfully - but by dropping to his knees and feasting on her.

The moan that left her was louder than it should have been. Anyone in the area would have known precisely what they were doing. But neither of them could really be bothered by anything taking place outside of the small workshop.

Within those walls, it was just the two of them, and that was all that mattered.

His tongue swept between her folds, hungrily, and found her clit with desperate expertise. With her slender fingers tangling into his hair, Nesta’s body clenched, overwhelmed by the pleasure he was giving her.

If this was the way they made up, perhaps they should fight more often, Nesta thought. Over something small, miniscule, but she’d make a scene if this was the outcome.

She whispered his name into the silence, putting every emotion she could fathom into the syllables, that one word. Cassian gripped her ass, pulled her closer into his mouth. His fingers would surely leave marks, ones she gladly welcomed. Her legs wrapped around his neck, her boots hanging down his back, the thick, worn leather grazing his bare skin.

He worshipped her with his tongue, touching and biting and kissing until Nesta was a whimpering mess.

Her back arched and she groaned, the words rushing out of her on a heavy breath. “Cassian, gods, please, don’t stop.”

He obeyed, one of his thumbs rubbing slow, torturous circles on her clit while he fucked her with his tongue. He groaned as she shuddered, her legs like a vice around his head, his name like a reverent prayer, repeated over and over again.

She was on the edge, hardly managing to hold on as Cassian's mouth fell away, leaving her suddenly cold and bare, and just as she was about to protest, he was thrusting his cock into her, being anything but gentle. His pace was quick, steady, rough, his hands still holding onto her ass as his head fell back, his long, damn hair hanging loosely, brushing along his shoulders as his eyes rolled back into his head.

Nesta leaned back, trying to find something to hold onto as he shook her body with his, leaving her off balance. She found nothing but the hard table beneath her, but Cassian's grip tightened against her skin as he cursed, brutally, beautifully.

“Fuck, I’ve missed your body,” he said, panting heavily. He looked down, watching as she unraveled around him. Her breasts shook and Cassian couldn’t take his eyes off of them.

Nesta leaned back on her elbows, letting her head roll back. “Baby. Hold on, wait, wait,” she said, sitting up and gently pushing his chest.

He froze, loosening the grip on her ass, but holding her tighter to him. “What? Are you okay?”

She pushed him back and he shuffled back, jeans still around his legs. She hopped off the table and turned around, rising up on her toes and lifting her ass. She looked over her shoulder at him, wiggling slightly.

Cassian nearly came at the sight of her in those boots, bent over his work bench, everything on display for him.

He hesitated, but not because he didn’t want to, but because he wanted to drink the sight in before him for as long as possible.

But she was waiting.

And he wouldn’t make her wait.

He took her ass into his hands and positioned himself just right before pushing himself into her, slowly. A long, quiet moan fell from her body as her back arched and her ass lifted further, and Cassian reached around her, one hand finding her breast, the other rolling a slow, taunting finger over her clit as he found a slow, steady pace, thrusting his cock into her. He breathed in her scent as his teeth found the back of her neck, nipping at her skin.

“I love you so much,” Cassian breathed, resting his forehead between her shoulder blade. He pressed soft kisses up her spine until his mouth was by her ear. “Fuck, marry me, Nesta. Be my wife. Make me the happiest fucking man in the world.”

She gasped lightly and reached backwards, grabbing for his hip. He slowed and stopped, cock filling her as he paused with his hips flush to her ass, and she looked back at him, whispering, “What did you say?”

He brushed the loose hairs off her face and caressed her cheek softly. “Marry me, sweetheart. Not because of the baby, not because I think it’s the right thing to do. But because I love you. I will never love anyone the way I love you. It doesn’t have to be right now, it doesn’t even need to be soon after the baby comes, just…” He pressed another kiss to the middle of her back. “Say you’ll marry me, Nesta.”

Her breathing was ragged as she swayed her hips, a gentle movement that forced a moan to fall from his lips, muffled against the skin of her back.

“Of course I’ll marry you,” she breathed. “There’s nothing I want more. Soon, later, whenever. Yes, yes, yes.”

He kissed her neck, and down her spine as the breaths she took grew shaky, pulling out slowly as he did so. Then he slammed his hips into hers and she cried out his name as that pace resumed, his mind a mess of beautiful things and chaotic emotions that could only be brought on by the woman before him.

His future wife.

“I’m close,” he grunted, his fingers digging into her hips. “I want you to come with me, baby.” She whimpered, her head resting atop the table. “Let me feel that perfect pussy come on my cock.”

“Please, Cassian, please,” she panted. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Her knees began to quiver and Cass slipped his hand around, furiously rubbing her clit and it was only a matter of seconds before she was shattering around him, his name falling from her lips in a breathy moan.

Cassian’s heart was pounding inside of his chest as he spilled himself inside of her, his eyes falling shut as his head fell between her shoulder blades, his breath heavy, hot, against her skin as he moved in her, riding it out. For a moment, neither of them said a word, neither of them moved. The silence was filled with panting breaths and soft curses.

Nesta could feel his heart thrumming against her back, wild and alive.

Her knees still shook, ever-so-slightly, and when he pulled himself out, she had to bite her lip from whimpering from the absence of him. Cassian gently pushed on her hips so that she'd turn to face him, and when she did, his hands met her abdomen in a gentle, tender touch. Then he met her gaze, and his hazel eyes were soft, thoughtful, not at all like they had been only moments before - wild, reckless.

He kissed her, slowly, and whispered against her lips, “I love you.”

Her arms wrapped around him, burying her face in his chest. “I love you, too.”

They cleaned up in silence, Cassian helping her pull the oversized sweatshirt back over her head. They were walking back towards the cabin when Nesta yawned and said, “I need to go make breakfast.”

Cassian kissed her forehead and said, “Go sleep. I’ll handle basic breakfast and let the guests know that we’ll be unavailable today.”

She nodded and rose up on her toes, kissing him. He watched her walk down the path before he turned and made his way up to the house. As he got closer he took a deep breath and realized he was smelling bacon cooking.

He entered through the back door, finding Feyre and Elain feeding the guests. He blinked. “Uh, good morning.”

Feyre refused to look at him. Elain sighed and asked, “Did you two make up?”

He looked at the clock above the stove. “Just spent the last hour and a half doing just that, yeah.”

“Gross,” Feyre mumbled, but she shot Cassian a smirk and he knew that he’d been forgiven.

Yesterday would not be forgotten. No, it was a very important moment in the story of who they were, but it was a day that would be treated as a lesson.

It was also the day that Nesta agreed to be his wife. But they didn’t need to know that yet.

#thesharatag #sharacollab #collab #theranchnessian #acotar #fanfic #mocern au #ranch au

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