#anon you have made my day my week my lifetime

[rosieofcorona]

I just found your art today and it reminds me so much of the fairy book I used to get from my library, so nostalgic and ethereal 🧚🏼‍♀️💫

hey I'm gonna cry real tears

this is all I have ever wanted in my whole life

[janeyseymour]

A Lifetime Full of Firsts

based loosely on two asks from anons... stages of falling in love and being domestic and shit.

WC: ~4.8k

In every relationship, there are numerous firsts. Some firsts, you expect: the first date, the first kiss, the first time you say I love you, the first time you have sex- and those are always memorable. And then are the unexpected firsts- and those are almost more memorable than the expected. 

The first unexpected first was one that you never saw coming to become a monumental moment in your relationship with Melissa Schemmenti. All that had happened was you got a new job as a second grade teacher at Abbott Elementary. You walked into the staff lounge to simply put your lunch away when you saw her for the first time. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the fiery red hair that cascaded down here shoulders in gentle waves. 

“Why you starin’?” Her voice came out deep. “Do I got somethin’ in my teeth?”

“N-no,” you stammered out. “Sorry. I uh, just really like your hair.”

“Thanks,” she practically blew you off. “Now who the hell are you?”

“I’m Y/N,” you answered softly. “I’m the new second grade teacher they hired.”

“Shit, I gotta work with you all year?” she groaned. She almost immediately took a disinterest in you. She didn’t like the vibe she got- a pep in your step, voice soft and demure. She suspected that you would be out of here before the kids even came in for their own first day of school, and if you weren’t out by then, the kids would eat you alive and you would be gone by the second week. 

“I’m sorry?” you squeaked out.

“Melissa Schemmenti,” the redheaded woman told you. “One of the other second grade teachers.”

“Oh,” your mouth formed into a bit of a frown. You headed over for the refrigerator and put your lunch in there. “Well, I hope you have a nice day.” And you head out.

That was your first conversation with Melissa Schemmenti, and it wasn’t a great one. It wouldn’t matter though. Life had a funny way of playing out.

During development week, you paid close attention. This school was no joke- you knew that. Growing up in the area, you knew the kids were tough. You knew that this school in particular had a decent amount of turnover every year. But you were determined to stay- make the difference for even just one student like your own second grade teacher had made for you. Janine Teagues, the other second grade teacher in your triad, was just as invested in the seminars as you were despite the fact that this was her third year at Abbott. Melissa, on the other hand, couldn’t care less. She made it very clear she couldn’t care less- busying herself in any other way possible.

Development week was over before you knew it, the weekend flew by, and the kids were beginning to file in. You glanced nervously at Janine, who just gave you an encouraging smile. Then you turned to look at Melissa, whose eyes immediately fell from your own. Was she watching you? You went to say something, but now the kids were actually coming to meet their new teachers, and you weren’t able to say anything more. Instead, you gave her a tight lipped smile. 

You survived the first week. And then you survived the second. Soon enough, October came, and you were still at Abbott. 

Melissa was clearly intrigued by you and your work ethic. Any other teachers who had tried to keep up with her Janine failed epically and been gone in the first few days. But you? You exceeded every expectation with such grace. 

Until you had to ask for her help. It really wasn’t even that big of a deal- the teacher who had the book your manual was referencing before you misplaced it. So, you found yourself hyping yourself up to go to her classroom and ask for help finding it. Finally, you mustered up the courage and were finding yourself knocking on her door. 

“Newbie?” she asked. You still hadn’t quite earned the right to be called by your name by the redhead yet.

“Hey,” you sighed out softly. “Listen, I really hate to bother you, but Janine isn’t here, and I need this book for a few days from now. I’d rather not be running around like a chicken without her head on Wednesday.

“What do you want?”

“The teacher that was here before me lost the book the textbook is referencing. Do you know where I could find it?”

“When do you need it?”

“Thursday,” you mumbled softly.

“Newbie, it’s Monday.”

“Yeah?” you cocked your head to the side just slightly. “I hate running around the day before though and feeling unprepared.”

The redhead maneuvered her way over to her desk before rifling through a few things. She produced the book you needed. “Here, just borrow mine. The last teacher in your room set hers on fire when she quit.”

“What?” you raised a brow as you took the offered book.

Melissa just smirked. “She was batshit crazy. Promise you won’t light my book on fire, newbie.”

“Promise,” you chuckled. “I’ll have it back to you on Thursday afternoon.” You raised the book in the air. “Thank you.” You turn to head out of her room and back to your own classroom.

“Hey,” her voice stopped you in your tracks. You turned to face her again, and this time she wasn’t wearing the usual smirk. She actually had an earnest smile on her face- like one she has when she’s chatting with her friends in the staff room. “You’re doin’ alright, Y/N.”

“Thanks,” you smiled back at her. 

As you left, you felt your cheeks burning just slightly, and you couldn’t wipe that dumb grin off your face. You didn’t know why she had you feeling so giddy- maybe it was because she actually called you by your real name for the first time, or maybe it was because her smile was one that could light up even the darkest of cities.

That was the first time you ever asked her for help, the first time she ever addressed you by name, the first time you fell in love with that smile of hers.

It took a few more weeks before she finally came into your classroom to ask for your help for the first time. It was silly really- all she needed you to do is stand in between both rooms to keep an eye on her class while she goes to the bathroom. But still, you were surprised she didn’t just ask Janine instead.

The first time you sat with her at lunch, it was not your day. You were running late, forgot your lunch on the counter in your apartment, spilled your coffee all down your front, and then you still didn’t have time to make a pitstop at Wawa to get a new coffee or lunch. So when you came dragging into the staff lounge with a whopping five dollars in your hand, a gigantic brown stain on your yellow shirt, and a frown, Melissa raised a brow.

“Not your day, Y/N?” your colleague asked.

You just let out a heavy sigh as you inserted a dollar into one of the machines. You picked what your vending machine lunch would be for the day before turning back around and going to head for the door. Once again, Melissa’s voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Y/N,” the redhead called again. You turned to face her, clearly unhappy and not in the mood. “Is that your lunch today?”

You just nodded. 

“Come sit,” Melissa waved you over to hers and Barbara’s table.

“I uh, wouldn’t want to impo-”

“Come sit,” the hardheaded woman told you again as she kicked out the chair next to her before standing up. She headed over for the cabinets and pulled out a paper plate. With a sigh, you took the seat next to her. Before you knew what was happening, your coworker was spooning out some of the pasta that she packed for herself onto the plate and was handing it to you. 

“Melissa, what are you doing?” you asked her incredulously, eyes nearly bulging out of your head.

“I already ate like half of it, and there’s still more that I won’t finish, so eat it,” she told you sternly. When her friends all raised their brows too, Melissa shrugged. “I ain’t going to cover her class if she passes out because all she had to eat today was a bag of Doritos.”

“Melissa, I couldn’t-”

“If you don’t eat it, it’s going in the trash,” she rolled her eyes. “So just take it, and enjoy it.” Then she made her way over to the coffee machine and was brewing a new pot. You took a glance in her mug, and it was entirely full aside from the few sips you had watched her take while she was standing next to you. A few minutes later, there was a steaming hot mug of coffee placed in front of you. Then, and only then, did the redhead sit down. When she noticed that you still hadn’t taken a bite of her food, she practically shoved the fork into your hand.

After the first bite, you groaned. This was the best pasta you had ever tasted. Melissa just gave you a smile as she reached over and stole the chips you bought. She opened them, popped one into her mouth, and then pushed the bag back in your direction.

“Thank you,” you had blushed through a mouthful.

Since that day, Melissa always made sure that you ate, and she was the first to offer up some of her lunch if you forgot yours that day.

The first time you realized you had feelings for her, you absolutely freaked out. You weren’t supposed to like her- your coworker. And yet there you were- falling for Melissa Schemmenti. You had no idea that she was falling just as hard.

The first time she kissed you, she had pretty much ambushed you- after a relatively hard day with the kids, on top of watching the idiot fifth grade teacher flirt with you mercilessly. You were just sitting at your desk trying to grade your second graders’ spelling tests when you heard her enter your room with the slamming of the door.

“Melissa?” you asked, clearly shocked that she was coming in here, and pissed. “What- what’s wrong?”

She didn’t answer, instead crossing the room on straight legs and kissing you rather aggressively. You were so shocked in the moment that you didn’t kiss her back. As she pulled away though, you only pulled her back in for another. You tugged her into your lap as her arms wrapped around your neck. Eventually, air became a necessity, and she pulled away.

“I’m so fuckin’ sick of watching Matthews flirt with you,” she stated as her green eyes turned dark.

“Matthews is an idiot,” you rolled your eyes. “Doesn’t ever pick up on the fact that they only person I ever flirt back with is you.”

“Dinner at my house tonight,” she told you lowly. She wiped off the excess lipgloss from your face before fixing her own. With a toss of her hair, she stood from your lap and made her way out of your room. You couldn’t help but watch the way her hips swayed.

The first time you said I love you, it wasn’t the way you thought that you would’ve told her. Honestly, the first time you said those three special words, you weren’t aware that you had said them. Or remembered. 

You were absolutely hammered during one of the happy hours after school. You don’t even really remember how you ended up getting as drunk as you did- you never got that bad. But with Melissa and Mr. Johnson practically feeding you shots after a particularly hard day with your students, you were on the verge of blacking out. So, as a dutiful girlfriend, Melissa took you out of the dive bar before you could make an even bigger fool out of yourself than you already had.

“You’re so pretty,” you had murmured the whole way home, a hand never far from her body. It wasn’t in any sexual way, you just liked being close to her.

She chuckled, that easy laugh that you knew meant she wasn’t uncomfortable with your actions. “Thanks, hun.”

Once she pulled up to your apartment complex, she ushered you inside. You had expected her to leave you, even in your drunk state. But instead, she simply guided you to the couch, wrapped you up in a blanket, and went on her way to your kitchen. Before you knew it, you were eating one of your favorite dishes of hers while she lounged next to you.

“You’re the best,” you smiled at her drunkenly.

She pat your leg with a soft smile on her face. “Don’t I know it? Now, why don’t we get you up to bed so you can sleep this off, and hopefully don’t wake up hungover tomorrow for work?”

“Are you trying to seduce me?” you slurred out.

Green eyes were rolled as she hoisted you into her arms. She carried you up to your room, got you changed, and pulled the blankets over you. She kissed your forehead before going to leave.

“Stay?” you had asked meekly.

You heard her sigh, but your eyes were closed. “Give me a few minutes.”

On the verge of sleep, you felt the bed dip under you and warm, strong arms wrap around you. In an instant, you turned in her arms and tucked your chin into her body.

“I love you,” you whispered before giving into drunken exhaustion.

Melissa stiffened just slightly beneath you, but then with a sigh of relief, she reciprocated that emotion, a kiss being pressed to your temple. She held you like that through the rest of the night.

The first time you said ‘I love you’ and were coherent for it, it wasn’t a grand gesture at all. The two of you were sitting outside of her townhouse after a nice meal when you knew you couldn’t hold it in any longer. So, you grabbed her hand with a smile and breathed out those three special words.

“I love you,” you told her with the softest of smiles, the softest of eyes. Then you take a deep sigh of relief. “Oh God. There, I said it first. Now it won’t be awkward, because I know we’ve both been dancing around it for a while now.”

Your girlfriend responded with a full-out belly laugh, and it shook you. It startled you. Was it too early to say those words?

“What?”

She just continued to laugh. “Hun, you said it first a while ago.”

“I what?” you gasped.

“Do you remember the last happy hour we went to?” she asked you with a smirk.

You grumbled. She loved to hold that day over your head. “Barely.”

“After I got you to bed, before you fell asleep, you told me. You’ve also been mumbling it in your sleep. So, I know you love me. I’ve just been waiting for you to tell me coherently,” your girlfriend laughed. Then she sobered slightly to look at you with eyes she only had reserved for you. “I love you too, mi amore.”

That night also led to the first time… that first time. And it was everything you had dreamed of and more. Melissa Schemmenti was a body worth worshipping. 

The first time you spoke of what your future might look like together was rocky- but it was nothing if not informative. She expressed that she wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of marriage, but kids were something that she was wary of. You expressed that you could see yourself marrying her if it all fell into place, and kids were a dream of yours. If they came along they came along. Melissa reminded you that the two of you wouldn’t just be able to create a life the way any straight couple would be able to; forcing you to blush furiously. Of course though, she said that if the timing was right and everything fell into place, it wasn’t off the table.

The first time you had tried to propose to Melissa Schemmenti was one that you’ll never, ever forget. Everything seemed like it was going perfectly- the kids were extremely well-behaved that day for both of you (something that quite literally never happens), the drive home and making dinner was pleasant, and dessert was almost ready. You thumbed the ring in your pocket, just about ready to drop down to one knee and ask her to marry you. But of course, the most important aspect of your day was ruined when you dropped the ring as you went to pull it out of your pocket. You thanked your lucky stars that you were able to locate it and recover from your fumble before she was aware that anything was happening behind her back. But now that you were in such a panic, you couldn’t ask her. So, you enjoyed dessert with the ring carefully placed in your pocket. And it was wonderful.

You figured you had recovered enough from your first fumble to be able to ask her as you were getting ready for bed that night. So, while she was in the bathroom taking off her makeup, you carefully pulled the ring from your pocket again and laid it on her pillow. That was almost a surefire way for her to see it.

You were wrong of course. While she usually rolled into bed, this particular time she decided to flop down and sent the ring flying behind the headboard. It landed with a particularly loud thud- one that made her furrow her brows.

Thinking quickly, you took off one of your own rings and stuffed it under your pillow. 

“Oh, dammit,” you groaned, ever the actress. “I knew I forgot to put that ring back on.”

“Sorry, hun.” Melissa looked regretful. “Let me grab it for you.” She goes to roll out of bed and move the frame away from the wall to retrieve your ring.

You were too slow to stop her, frozen in your tracks. She found the engagement ring that was meant to be hers and stood straight up with it, eyes wide and jaw just slightly agape.

“Y/N,” your girlfriend said lowly. “What is this?”

“A ring?” you desperately were trying to figure out how to get out of this predicament. 

“No shit,” she was quick to retort. “Who’s is it?”

“Mine,” you say quietly.

“Are you secretly married or something?” Green eyes turn somewhat dark.

“No!” you were quick to reply. Well, you had to come clean now. “Mel, it’s mine… for you. I was going to ask you tonight, but both times I went to, I fumbled.”

Your girlfriend’s eyes grew wide. “What do you mean?”

You explained the earlier events to her with a sigh. “Now, can I please have the ring back so I can at least go to bed with some of my dignity tonight?”

Melissa handed you the ring with an expectant look. But instead of dropping down to one knee like she thought you would, you instead just put the ring back safely in its box.

“What are you doing?” she asked you. “Aren’t you going to propose?”

“Well, I can’t now,” you replied. “It has to be perfect, and that proposal would not be.” You slide back into bed and open your arms for her to fall into. She does with a frown on her face.

“Damn,” she huffed. “I could’ve been engaged tonight.”

“Well,” you chuckled as you pressed a kiss to her head. “You will be soon enough- when the time is right.”

“It’s a beautiful ring,” she complimented softly as she held up her left hand. “Damn! Now I wish I would’ve just put it on!”

The next morning, Barbara came flying into the staffroom to look at Melissa’s hand- she knew of your plan to ask her work wife to marry you. She all but grabbed her best friend’s hand, and the smile that she wore immediately melted away into a frown.

“Where’s the-”

“It didn’t go as planned,” you sighed softly from next to your still-girlfriend.

“What does that mean?” Barbara gasped. “Melissa Ann, did you refuse her proposal?”

“What?”

“Did you refuse her proposal?”

“She didn’t,” you chuckled nervously. “I flubbed it.”

“H-how on Earth would you have flubbed it?” Barbara asked you. 

You turned sheepish. “I dropped the ring twice… and then she found it.”

“I tried to get her to propose,” Melissa huffed. “She wouldn’t.”

“And why would that be?”

“Because it has to be perfect,” you sighed as you kissed her hand. “You deserve perfect.”

“What I deserve is for that ring to be on my finger,” your girlfriend still huffed.

She got it eventually. The third time that you tried to propose was perfect, and the rock sat on her finger beautifully. The first time the Abbott crew saw it, they nearly swooned. Barbara nudged her best friend lightly.

“Was it worth the wait?” the kindergarten teacher asked teasingly.

“Yeah,” Melissa whispered as she held her hand out to admire the new ring. “I’d say so.”

The first time that you decided to sit down to wedding plan did not go to plan. It was disagreement after disagreement. And of course, that led to you sleeping on the couch after you said something not particularly called for. But after that, wedding planning was civil and respectful, and the “Abbott event of the century”, as Janine was putting it, was nearly set.

The first time you saw Melissa in her wedding dress was probably the most untraditional way to see her in it. But then again, most of the things about your relationship were untraditional.

You had come home after your own fitting, and there she was- standing on the coffee table as her mother was attempting to do alterations her own dress. Barbara Howard, obviously assuming her duty as maid of honor, was holding pins for Mrs. Schemmenti. In an instant though, she was shooing you back out the door.

“Y/N,” Barbara scolded you. “What the hell are you doing here?”

You chuckled. “Barb, this is my house too, you know.”

“Well, yes, but I thought you knew she would be doing alterations to the dress!”

“I didn’t think she would be standing on our living room coffee table!” you argued. “I thought she would be doing it in the basement or our bedroom, so I was just going to avoid those areas!”

The kindergarten teacher huffed. “Well, please tell me you didn’t see her in it.”

You avert your eyes- you had seen her in it. And she looked stunning.

“You two are the worst, you know that?” Barb rolled her eyes.

You smiled though. “Yeah, we are. But at least we can be terrible together.”

The first time you said your vows out loud was to your future wife, on your wedding day. By some grace of God, you had managed to keep them under wraps, and she had managed to keep hers a secret from you too.

So, there the two of you stood, holding hands up at the altar and looking into each other’s eyes as you made lifelong promises to each other. 

Melissa’s vows were short and sweet like she was (despite the fact that she always appears to be an average height… heels be damned). She glossed over the fact that she never in a million years would’ve expected to be standing here today before promising you that she would always be there to make lasagna for your birthday, that she’d never love Jalen Hurts more than you, and that she’d do whatever it takes to keep you happy… even if that meant having to be the one to change the lightbulbs in the house because you were afraid of getting burnt. Her vows to you made you laugh, they made you cry, they made you fall even further in love with her than you already were.

And then it was your turn to speak your vows- ones that you had only practiced in your head because you knew she was always looming around the corner trying to hear you.

“So,” you chuckled softly as you turned to the audience. “As Melissa stated, it was not love at first sight. Not even love at second glance- at least on her part. But… we’ve made our way here.” 

Your friends and family had laughed at your light joke, and then you turned back to Melissa. “It may not have been love at first sight, but we’ve had a lot of other firsts happen in life… One’s that we may not have ever expected: the first time you called me by name, the first time we had to ask each other for help, the first time you ambushed me in the classroom to tell me about the feelings that you had for me, our first I love you’s… the ones that I remember at least-” you blushed. “The first time I tried to propose, and the second time, and finally the third time. I guess what they say is true, that the third time’s a charm.” Again, those that you had invited to the ceremony chuckled along with you. “I’ve cherished all of our firsts, and I always will. And now, here I am, ready to read my vows aloud for the very first time.”

You shook your hands out nervously before glancing at the woman before you. You spoke of promising to love her through the good and bad, the beautiful and the downright ugly, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health. And then you diverted from the traditional vows. “Melissa, today is the first day of the rest of our lives, and it’s one that we’ll truly never forget. But just because we’re getting married doesn’t mean that life is going to be boring. I vow to you that we will live a lifetime full of firsts- together. I’m not quite sure what those firsts may be, but I know that they’ll be just as meaningful and as memorable as the rest of our firsts. I love you.”

The rest of your wedding is perfect, and then the reception after is an absolute ball. It was the first night of the rest of your lives, as you had said. And while you maybe wouldn’t remember it all the next morning, you knew that the most important parts would always be held to your heart.

The first time that you really spoke about your future together as a married couple- adding kids to the mix, or maybe a pet, was… it wasn’t pretty. But after a bit of wearing her down, your wife (God, you loved that you could call her your wife) agreed that if she was going to be a parent with anyone, it would be you.

That led you to your first treatments. That led you to the first time you peed on a stick, for once praying that it was positive. It wasn’t. That led you to another round of treatments, another negative test. And after the third round, for the first time, the word “positive” was staring up at you. 

Melissa had just smiled at you softly and said, “I guess third time really is a charm for us.”

Your first pregnancy. With that, there were a lot of firsts. The first ultrasound and time you heard your baby’s heartbeat.The first time you experienced morning sickness. The first time you noticed your bump. The first time you had to buy maternity clothes. The first time that you felt the baby kick- the first time she felt the baby kick. There were so many firsts throughout all of that experience.

And now, here you are, holding your daughter, your first born, for the first time. Melissa is perched on the side of your hospital bed, looking at the two of you with such love in her eyes. For the first time, the two of you are mothers. It’s a feeling of love that you never knew before- you understand motherly love for the first time as you hold this beautiful little baby in your arms.

“This is the first day of the rest of our lives,” you whisper as you stroke your little girl’s cheek.

“We’ve already had a lifetime full of firsts,” she tells you softly as she brushes her lips against your temple. “I think we can handle another lifetime of firsts.”

TAGS: (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

[bellewintersroe]

Okay this is part 2 from this anon request, which one of my lovely followers asked if I could do in the comments @beautifulbluejay <3

Easy Boys x Reader Headcanons - How They React To You Going MIA.

It happened just before his leave to Paris, in fact the reason Nix pushes his leave so hard is because everybody genuinely thought you had gone.

So the trip to Paris isn’t exactly a leave for him, he’s alone and just thinking about you the whole time.

Grief stricken- nobody else knew about your relationship considering it was fraternisation, so he literally feels so alone.

This one’s a lil different- but you’d be completely lost and track Winters down in Paris, all you’d need to do is ask Lewis and he’d probs blabber mouth it to you- although he does think you’re a little crazy because you’ve just gone MIA in the middle of Europe for almost a week and now you’re wanting to travel to Paris.

Anyway you’d get to the correct place, despite having a slight cut on your forehead and grazed knees you’re physically fine- but you get caught up in a German hospital during your time lost and it’s mf scary. You’re so lucky you’re still alive.

You’d knock on the door (assuming it was his) and when he answers it he kinda cracks it open only slightly, and then rips the rest fully open and has a literal heart attack.

“Dick?!” Your voice cracks and you’re crashing into his chest before he can even fathom.

“You’re- you’re here- I?” He’s overwhelmed, wondering if he’s dreaming or not until his arms wrap tightly around you, feeling you cling onto dear life.

Once the shock has worn off and tears were shed Dick can’t let you go. He’s slightly dizzied with practically the shock of his life.

When you’re sleeping he keeps watching over you, checking you’re real.

He can’t do enough for you, gets you food water (ofc), checks over any wounds you have, really talks to you about it- like Dick out of all the men seems extremely emotionally intelligent, so he wants to make sure you’re really okay.

“Just tell me and I can send you somewhere safer…”

“I’d rather just be where you are.”

Lewis Nixon:

After he was supposed to jump into Berlin and he only just made it out of the plane, he turned up to see the explosion right before his eyes. The Germans were shooting down the planes- including the ones he knew you alongside so many other flight nurses and young men were on.

Not only had it gone terribly- now his trauma of knowing you’re potentially gone makes everything 10x harder.

He’d not been able to see you much throughout the war, you’re often stationed in different areas, but he always worried about you, and just then he was so close to you, yet still so far away- it pained Lewis.

Replays the moment over and over again in his head, drinks more and more and as the days pass and he receives no letter from you or your company or family- he knows the worst is coming.

Asks Dick if he should write a letter for your family- he was there after all. Dick informs him it’s probably best to wait until he’s found out what’s really happened to you.

But the silence was screaming at him- and every time be see’s a nurse in a uniform near him he grows restless.

He’s walking near the hospital one day, where he knows hundreds of the prisoners from the camp are being treated. He watches from afar as dozens more of them pile out of trucks and vans, some of them unable to walk- the rest of them still being treated inside the walls of the camp.

He turns away when he see’s the nurses, feeling overwhelmed by the grief until he hears a quick, “Lewis!”

He turns around so quick, dropping his cigarette when he’s stunned by the sound of your voice.

Seconds later you’re running towards him, grinning and giggling. He feels his chest squeeze tighter and he’s practically scurrying towards your direction to embrace you in the biggest hug of his lifetime.

Holy fuck. Lewis thinks. Holy fuck, fuck, fuck. Thank god.

His eyes close and he squeezes you tighter, hand pressing to the back of your head as he attempts to calm himself down whilst you cling onto him.

He very quickly pulls you towards his lips, kissing you deeply, so needily, he doesn’t care who see’s.

Both of you keep talking over the top of one another, excited to be in each others presence again.

“But I thought your plane went down?!” Lewis doesn’t notice until you hold his hands that he’s shaking.

“No, we turned back miles ago, it was too dangerous- oh I’m so glad you’re okay, I didn’t know what happened to you.”

The feeling is mutual, and even if you only get a night to spend together Lewis makes it all worthwhile.

Ron Speirs:

This man is tense asf from the second anything happens.

“What happened to the nurses?” His voice is quiet yet sharp and quick. His hand grabs at Nixon’s arm, urging him to answer immediately.

“Uh, I don’t know. They were in the hospital that got bombed, we’re not sure.” Lewis sighs out slowly, clearly affected by the trauma, but he has no idea about Ron and you.

Ron takes it upon himself to literally do anything he can in his power to find you- ofc he’s worried about everybody else, but the two of you have been together in private way back since before you were deployed. His hearts in his chest.

“We got them all sir, but one.”

“Y/l/n. Where’s Y/l/n?” He attempts to keep cool but his heart is thumping, he has the worst sickness and he can barely hold back how he’s feeling.

The man pauses and shakes his head. “Don’t know, sir.”

The whole company is obviously in grieving, this is when he’s still part of D-company but he’s in misery- he breaks only when he’s alone and in front of the men he keeps an even more tough exterior than ever.

Truthfully he’s hard to be around, he tries to push you to the back of his mind, trying his best to accept you’re gone and that’s it but he can’t.

He’s in the infirmary one day, after literally being shot in the ass- he almost can’t believe what’s going on and refuses to believe it’s true. Ron for the first time feels weak and useless.

“Can somebody help?! Please!” A frantic calling from a more than familiar voice cries out as he’s laid on his side in the bed, curtains closed around his area.

This is the first thing that causes him to move. Ignoring all soreness (he probs just blocks out the pain) he crawls out of bed at the sounds of scurrying and desperate shouting of the medical staff.

Ron could’ve sworn that was your voice, and when he stands, opening the curtains and staring straight at you, he thinks he’s seen a ghost.

He mutters your name so quietly, but you look up, face dirty and slightly bruised and bloodied, uniform dusty with a GI woollen jumper hanging over your frame. Like you’re just looking at each other.

“Excuse me, please.” You’d just tell the medical staff, hurrying your way down the hospital, weaving passed people until you’re stepping closer and closer.

Ron’s breathing and heart increases in a state of shock and you nudge him back in, yanking the curtain shut before you just engulf one another in a hug.

“Ron.” You’d mutter through tears, he grips you even tighter, engulfing your smaller body. “I was so scared, Ron.”

He pulls back your face, his eyes wide and stunned before holding either side of your face and pulling you in for a deep, borderline desperate kiss.

It’s the best comfort either of you have had in days, and once your lips part you fall back into his arms.

He’s probably lost for words for the first few minutes, and he’ll become all teary eyes for the first time in front of you.

“Are you okay? What happened to you?” He speaks for the first time, checking over you worriedly after remembering you must’ve been in that shelled out hospital

“There was Germans… I took a patient and ran away in the bombings. We got lost- we only just got back here now. I don’t know if he’s okay or not.”

All he can do is comfort you and hold you close, still in a state of disbelief.

“Why-why are you in here? What’s wrong?” You’d eventually ask. “I was shot.” Ron spoke in a blasé manner. He didn’t care about himself, only you.

“Where?”

… “my ass.”

Babe Heffron:

Hear me out, you’re a little bit clumsy yet always careful with everybody’s life but seemingly your own?

Like you’ve been at war for 8 months or so and still Babe worries that you’ve stumbled onto enemy lines just because you went to find a man’s boots or something.

He looks out for you and takes care of you so much, like it’s so so sweet and everybody’s aware that you’re Babe’s girl, even if you keep it more or less hidden out of respect for the fraternisation rules.

Anyway, you’re assigned to second platoon & that’s how you and Babe got close initially, the second nurse was sadly lost, and ever since then in Bastogne, Babe has been extra worried that something might happen to you.

It’s the day after Jackson passed and everybody’s exhausted, even though they’ll be moving off the line, they’re all sick of war.

“Hey anybody seen y/n?” He’d glance around the room where she’d usually be hanging out when she wasn’t at the aid station.

“She’s not at the aid station?” Joe would ask.

“No.” Babe would frown, pushing himself up and heading out.

He tries not to panic at first, but admittingly he has an anxiety nibbling away at the back of his mind.

Something just feels off, you’re not at CP, at the infirmary, with the other nurses, where you’re billeted.

“Babe!” One of the nurses shrieks in surprise as he bursts into the house they were stationed in.

“Sorry, sorry. Anybody seen y/n?” None of them have, not since the early afternoon and it was nearing 6. Your duty ended three hours ago.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

(Okay this isn’t as extreme as some of the other cases, I wanted to change it up a bit)

20 minutes later he’s chain smoking like crazy, asking all the guys where the hell you were.

“Babe? What’re you yapping about?” Your voice appears, giggling as he snaps his head, almost doing a 360.

At first relief floods through him, but then he see’s your helping a limping soldier, bleeding just below your eyebrow.

“Jesus- what the hell?!” His voice raised, breath stuck in his chest.

“A little help here, Babe?”

After hooking up under the other side of the wounded back, he helps you both back to the aid station firing questions a million miles an hour in your direction.

“I’m fine, Babe.” You’d soothe. “What happened?! Where th’ hell were ya?!” He’d take both your shoulders, holding his hand over the cut on your forehead, in an attempt to apply pressure.

“Babe-” you’d swat his hand away, becoming distracted with the sight behind you. Clearly you didn’t realise how worried he was.

“Ya shouldn’t run off like that!”

“Babe-”

“Ya got me worried sick!”

“Edward! His leg is crushed! Let me go help!”

“Edward?!”

“Wait here, alright? I’ll be 10 minutes.”

Babe waits, watching you help some of the other nurses and medics with the man you both carried inside, tending to what looked to be a badly wounded leg. He grimaced and turned away, growing an even more profound respect for you (if that was even possible).

When you’re done you head straight back to him. “Sorry, Babe, his leg was so-” You go to hold his arm but instead he turns, engulfing you in a bone crushing hug.

“I thought I’d lost ya, never do that again.”

Finally, you’d silence and realise just how worried he was. He was border lining upset, his frustration had dissolved and turned into pure relief.

“I’m okay.” You’d whisper, leading him to the quieter area of the porch.

“Where were ya?” He’d glance over you, checking head to toe everything was okay, hands still on your forearms.

“I went to get some supplies, then I found him- his leg was stuck under rubble. I couldn’t just leave him.”

“What ‘bout ya head?”

“I knocked myself in the face, you know what I’m like.”

“Oh thank god, ya scared me, angel.”

Ugh he’s such a sweetheart, just apologise to him and promise you won’t do that again without telling him.

[soullessdianthus]

Hi so idk if ur taking requests for König or if u do stories like this but I was wondering if u could do König comforting reader after a miscarriage. Like this is her 2nd one and she's in the bathroom sobbing

A/N: Never thought I would be able of writing such stuff. Thanks Anon for challenging me with such heavy topics. Hope you're doing well. ♡

Warnings: angst, comfort, talks of miscarriage

When he walked down the hallway, next to the bathroom doors, König would never in his lifetime imagine finding you in a state like this.

Head buried in trembling hands as you were sitting on the bathtub's edge. A few trickles of blood running down your thighs from underneath the sweat shorts. His heart ached although not knowing why yet. Seeing you, his beloved wife in a state of despair was worse than a grown up man could ever imagine.

Deep down he knew it wasn't about you bleeding through your pants on your period. No, it couldn't be it.

━ Meine Liebe [ger.: My love]?

━ König ━ you shot your head up, sniffling and looking at the towering figure of your spouse in the door's frame. A muffled sob got stuck in your throat. He wasn't wearing his hood or military gear, there was no need for that in your house. ━ You were supposed to be back next week.

Your sweet and loving voice sounded broken. Devastated. You tried to wipe the tears off your face, but it was already reddened and eyelids swollen from crying. You couldn't hide it from him anymore.

König slowly walked up to you and kneeled on one of his legs. When his face was approximately on the same level as yours, he cupped your cheek, a concern painted in his eyes.

━ What happened? Why are you crying? ━ Your husband's other hand held you by your arm, caressing the skin so softly, with such tenderness it brought you comfort.

━ I... I lost the baby. It was still very early, but...

━ Hey, hey, look at me, schatzi ━ he interrupted you, sadness building up again in your beautiful eyes. The eyes that made him fall in love with you at first sight ━ sometimes it happens.

König's words were well-balanced and spoken peacefully. He wanted to ease down your pain, at least the one that was mental. Now, he was by your side, prepared to support you through this difficult time.

And you were worried of disappointing him.

━ But it wasn't the first time! I had lost one already and you always wanted a family of your own and I'm scared that I cannot give you this...

━ Sometimes it happens ━ he repeated, his brows slightly narrowing in concern. König reached to hold both of your hands in his grasp over your lap ━ and it's never your fault. Never. You know, Meine Liebe, I'm not the youngest, this may also be a reason why this happens. Have you thought about this?

━ But I really want to start family with you. I love you.

━ Ich liebe dich auch, engel [ger.: I love you too, angel]. We can always try again. When you're ready. ━ König leaned forward to get closer to you pretty face. He always felt bad when you were crying, your soul was so pure, you didn't deserve this. Any of this.

━ But what if it happens again?

━ Then you is all I need in this lifetime.

Your husband pressed his forehead to yours and you slowly began to accept the grief of your unborn child. You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. And with him by your side, every sorrow was eased by his love.

━ Are you mad at me? ━ You asked after a while of silence, when he detached his forehead from yours.

━ Why should I be angry with you? How could I be mad at my beloved wife, Mein Sonnenschein [ger.: my sunshine], hm?

His warm smile and presence was all your aching heart needed. König loved you more than anything on this planet, in this life. You were the reason he had something to come back to after each day in work. A home and a soulmate.

━ Ich liebe dich.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling my Grandma I'm not going to have a specific conversation with her and just walking away?

So context, I (28) am currently between jobs because one of my ex-coworkers was the asshole who got me fired, and I haven't found anything new.

My mother (50) and I both live in my Grandma (80)'s house which is divided into an upstairs and a downstairs. Grandma lives in the downstairs. So do my mom and sister. I live alone in a two bedroom upstairs which belonged to my late aunt.

Right after my aunt died, I wanted to clean the apartment, organize, donate, toss, keep her stuff. To make sure everything gets where it'd ought best go, but my mother told me I had no right to go through my aunt's things alone and sort keepsake from takaway; if I was to do anything it was to be with her.

Well, three years of me trying to get my mom up here to sort through it with me because I want to respect her wishes, and my stuff accruing in a layer over top of my aunts stuff because I can't get rid of it, and the apartment is a lifetime and three years mess. My mom never made the time to do what she told me I wasn't allowed to do without her, me respecting these wishes which she probably doesn't even remember. I've been living up here too afraid of trespassing against my aunts memory to clean the cobwebs full of her red hair. Because my mother said, I had no right to do it.

And that cleaning anxiety is on top of executive dysfunction, depression, having too much shit, being a sprawler type adhd, and working a 40 h/week 'part-time' retail position. I didn't have it in me to clean by myself, and the mess kept getting worse and no one would substancially help me no matter how much I asked. Not my mom and not my sister (who gets a pass because she's got post-exertional malases from Long Covid).

Now fast foreward to two weeks ago. My mother final finds the motivation to clean the upstairs apartment because she's got a boyfriend now, and they wanna have sex upstairs where my grandma can't hear it. They didn't ask me if it was okay or anything: just decided that my space is now OUR space because it's convinent to her. I don't really care, and I'm annoyed, but finally someone to clean the fucking apartment with. She said, two weeks ago that he'd be coming around in about four months time. We spent the day getting a lot of cleaning done. Not anywhere near all of it, but a lot. And I've finally gotten what I see as permission to start sortitioning my aunts things. I'm pacing myself cleaning on that four month timetable.

And then today she bursts into the apartment to announce that BF will be here in a week, and she starts hauling major ass with my late aunt's heavy as shit sewing supplies. For my part, I vent the new timeline to my friends and then get to work cleaning my bedroom so I can move the stuff I have sprawled over the living room into my bedroom. Because my bedroom being messy is what's getting in my way the most.

When she's done hauling boxes, she goes to start cleaning the bathroom, and because she's in too much of a hurry on this new self-imposed and sprung upon me timeline, she hurts herself cleaning the toilet. Spasms her wrist, locks up her back. I help her downstairs but she's obviously done for the day, probably done for the week even. I get back to light cleaning with breaks, pacing myself to the new timeline I have to deal with. And I get a call from my grandma.

G: "Hey anon can you come down here." A: "I'll be down in a minute." I pull on pants and a shirt and head down.

And here we get to the key events all that context was building toward.

G: "What happened with your mom." A: "She hurt herself cleaning." G: "I know that, I mean why was she cleaning your apartment. You're an adult who's lived here for three years, and she's the only one working, and now she can't move. Why's the apartment you live in such a state that she needs to clean it for you."

Now, I know my grandma. A mule would be jealous of her stubborn demeanor. She's on an oxygen machine 24 hours a day and she still smokes two packs a week. You can't change her mind once she's made it up.

So I'm doing calculations in my head while she's laying into me, and I conclude she's made her mind up: She thinks I'm 100% in the wrong and nothing that came out my mouth would convince her that my mom is just as much an adult as I am who is responsible for her own decisions that got her to overworking when cleaning and hurting herself in the process, and also several inter-related key factors in why so much cleaning needs to be done on an 'oh fuck, immediately' timescale.

Doing the math makes me a bit angry, and I don't like the type of person I get to acting like when I'm angry, especially because anything I say will just make her more upset, so I say, "Grandma, I'm not going to have this conversation with you."

And I walk away. I leave while she yells at me to come back and let myself be yelled at. I'm angry, so I mindfully do not to slam her door on my way out and go back up stairs

After some scrumbling and a bit more light cleaning with breaks to pace myself, best I can, to this newly imposed and unreasonable timetable, my room is 90% clean and ready for me to put my stuff in it. And now that I'm not as angry anymore, I started to feel guilty that I didn't even try to explain anything to her. I just decided she'd made up her mind and made up mine to walk away without even trying. So, I typed this up to ask:

AITA for refusing to engage her in that conversation and just walking away?

What are these acronyms?

[here2bbtstrash]

as promised, here it is: The Big Life Update Post (aka m where the hell have u been and what the hell is going on with this blog)

TLDR: went thru it, came out better for it, i love y'all. and we're getting back into this writing thing as i have the time and capacity 🥳

2023 has been a bit of a whirlwind, to put it very mildly. while the first three months started off relatively smoothly, my saturn return began in the middle of march. only a few short weeks after that... well, i'd basically say everything went off the fucking rails.

content warning: drama talk incoming ft. extremely brief mentions of racism and racist hate mail (no specific details shared).

i haven't spoken on this yet since everything happened, and i want to be explicitly clear that i won't be speaking on it further after this post. but i just want you to understand where i've been at since april.

i will own it entirely and say: i fucked up. i put content in a story that i shouldn't have, that i had no business speaking on, and i think people were well within their right to call me out on it, one hundred percent. however, after i went offline at the end of april, my friends ended up learning that the person who initially stirred up all of the "tea", and submitted the first several anonymous posts about me to a hate blog, was actually someone i knew well and considered a friend.

this was someone whose stories i gladly beta'd, someone i consoled through multiple hard moments in their life, someone i actually even met in person. yep. this was also someone who had read the chapter of my story that featured the problematic content when it was released, and proceeded to send me paragraphs upon paragraphs of how much they enjoyed it, and the story as a whole. this is not to say that people can't change their minds on content after sitting with it, not at all. but to think that i had been through so much with this person, done so much to be there for them, and that they never once gave me any reason to think we were anything other than close friends. yet ultimately, they didn't feel they could come directly to me... or find quite literally any other way of dealing with the issue?

instead, they chose to send multiple messages about me to a hate blog, as well as hateful anons to several of my friends, thinking that we wouldn't know it was them (we did). not only that, but their actions encouraged an actual torrent of racist hate mail to be sent to all of my non-white friends who publicly chose to support me. ultimately, they ended up admitting all of this, and still, they never once apologized or showed even a single iota of remorsefulness or responsibility for the onslaught of vitriol they incited. (even though, you know, this whole thing was supposedly about how racism is bad.)

and this user is still on the platform, operating under a new blog name and pseudonym. so. that's fun. 💀

i don't say this to beat a dead horse, or to drum up sympathy, because i promise i don't want it. it's been long enough, i understand the mistakes i made, and i've done my part to take accountability for my actions. but i needed to start this post here to have you all understand where i was at the end of april - just in time for yoongi's tour 🤪 - in many ways, i felt like i had no friends, at least none that i could really trust. i felt unsure who might have been acting one way to my face, perhaps even praising me, but talking different about me behind my back. and it was beyond fucking nervewracking to think that i would be meeting so many friends IRL for the first time, quite literally days after what essentially felt like a public execution.

i wasn't doing well, to say the least.

and then... the funniest thing happened.

y'all showed the fuck up for me. in droves. in a way that i have quite literally never experienced in my lifetime and doubt i ever will again. even recounting it now is lowkey giving me chills. i received, literally, yes i counted, hundreds of DMs from the most incredibly kind people- on tumblr, on twitter, on discord, in AO3 comments. the vast majority of you wrote paragraphs: about what my stories have meant to you, about how you found my blog to be a safe space in the noise of the world, about how much you'd enjoyed our time together here. so many of you said something along the lines of "even if you never come back here again, please keep writing". honestly, for like a week straight all i could do was read my DMs and cry and cry and cry.

i didn't receive a single hateful DM. not one.

as if that alone isn't more blessings than i deserve in an entire lifetime, i also, you know. saw five shows of agust d on tour. (my credit card is still recovering.) spent two of the best nights of my life in pit getting a water bottle baptism and screaming myself hoarse. and met dozens of incredible moots, who held me when i cried, scream-laughed with me, and of course, drank plenty of booze with me.

at a time where i wondered to myself if i even had a single true friend in this fandom (or, like, in the world), you all showed me that i had so much more. that we had so much more-- we had a community. and i believe we still do. and i am more than ready to block out all the shit that doesn't matter and get back to having some fun around here.

in short: thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you. if you sent me a sweet word, i promise you, i read it (and probably cried lmao). i wouldn't be doing any of this without you. i will never ever deserve all the love that you have shown me. but for as long as you'll have me, i'd love to have a fun stupid horny time in this little corner of the internet. as a part of our community. what a fucking gift it is. 🫶

phew. okay, so- that was april and may. it's november. what the fuck happened?

i knew i wanted to properly take time to get my head on straight before i found my way back to writing. what i wasn't expecting was to 1. fall in love, 2. get a new job, and 3. move myself and my cat approximately 800 miles across the country... but yeah, since the end of may, those 3 things are exactly what i've been doing!

i won't talk too much about my partner here, because our relationship is important enough to me that i want to keep it largely private, but my god. he is the most incredible human. i can't tell you how much of what i wrote out as silly little daydreams in my fanfiction has somehow manifested itself into this very real human being (like, it's kinda crazy lmao 🙈). i'm grateful for him every single day. and what makes it even more special is that we met for the first time in person while i was traveling for yoongi's tour - yep! he saw me going through so much upheaval, and fell for me all the same. just another thing i will never fully believe i deserve. but goddamn do i feel luckyyyyy 🥰

and in addition to my amazing partner (and in part because of him but honestly i had plans to move before i had even met this man it just happened to work out okay 🙄) i have also finally managed to do what i've been planning for the last year and a half, which is move my ass out of the southern suburbs where i'd been for nearly a decade, and to a ✨walkable city that actually has public transit✨ - what a fucking dream. i may have only been here 8 days, and i may not have much more to my name than my cat, my TV, and my mattress, but i swear to god, i've never been this happy in my entire life.

so yeah. exhale. like i said, it's been quite the year.

now i do want to end this with a small caveat, which is to say, i can't make a promise as to how much i can *be* here (particularly not compared to how terminally online i used to be lmao). i spent a lot of time online because i was unhappy and feeling very stuck with where i was in life, and i needed escapism, bad. now, i've finally gotten to a place where i'm excited to go out of my house and do things, but i still want to make intentional time for tumblr as a form of connection and community, and writing as a form of creative expression. these things are really important to me!!! i just ask that you give me some grace if i'm a little slow on the uptake. i promise i'm still here 🥰

and writing is gonna happen!!! i can't say much more than that, because tbh i haven't so much as opened a google doc since april, but i've been itching to get back to it. maybe.... we might start off....... with some........... drabble requests??? 👀 we'll see we'll see we'll see hehe.

in any case, i think that's more than enough for now 🤪 oh how i've missed babbling to you all, the gay people in my phone. i hope you're well, and if ya feel so inclined, i'd love it if you'd send me a comment or a DM on what you've been up to in the many months it's been since we've spoke! what's new in your life? what are we manifesting??

talk so so soon, eeeeee~ i'm so happy to be back~ love you babes!!! 🤍

[defilerwyrm]

I'm a trans man who wants phallo SO bad but the Fear Mongering people do makes me so scared. I have such a fear of surgery anyway and people say phallo is nearly 23hrs long, and it has more risks than heart surgery does, and idk if these are true bc I'm too scared to google it..But I want it so bad, but the stuff I hear scares me. Also people saying it doesn't have any sensation worries me. You said trans men can ask about it so I hope this is ok to do on anon!!! I'd appreciate a non fear filled reply so much thanks!!

23 hours!! Those poor surgeons, can you imagine!

Virtual hugs if you’re the hugging type, Anon, and a cool rock if you’re not.

Those things are definitely not true, not remotely. It’s a long surgery, but when I say it’s long that means it’s about 8 hours all told. It sounds like maybe someone heard it referred to as an “all-day” thing meaning a full WORK day, but instead assumed that that meant a full CALENDAR day. Or, you know, a transphobe made shit up to scare people.

It is most definitely not nearly as risky to your wellbeing as a surgery in which they saw open your sternum and cut open your actual beating heart. There is a fairly high chance of a minor complication that can result in the terrible ordeal of getting pee on your pants sometimes—a urethral fistula—and in most cases, they close up on their own anyway without needing another surgery to correct them. And in this case, “fairly high” means 40%, so it’s still less than half a chance that it’ll happen in the first place. At worst it’s annoying. Serious complications, the type that put you in danger, are extremely rare.

The sensation thing is also false, because they literally harvest a length of nerve from your donor site and hook it up to your existing bits specifically so you WILL have sensation! Sure, it takes a little while for the nerve to heal, but that’s just the reality of ANY surgery.

The nerve grows back in your donor site, too, by the way. While I was typing this up I discovered that one particular spot on my graft is ticklish.

Everyone has their own individual healing factor, but speaking for myself, I had full erotic sensation before the 3-month mark, and the orgasms have been incredible. The head and base are highly sensitive, and everything in between responds pretty damn nicely too, just less of a hit-the-ceiling level of sensitivity. And, you know, if you’ve handled an AMAB person’s penis much at all you’ll know that’s pretty much in keeping with how their dicks work too.

It is an in-patient surgery so if you have it, you’ll be staying in a hospital for a few days so they can keep an eye out for rare disasters. My stay was four or five days of snoring most of the day and periodically getting woken up to eat or answer some simple check-in questions, lift my arm for nurses to move stuff, etc, and then conking back out.

Being cathed sucks, but two weeks of frequent trips to the toilet to drain your bag is honestly nothing compared to a lifetime without (or with vastly reduced) bottom dysphoria. That’s the part that I hated. Everything else was your typical recovery: 10-15 days of sleeping 20 hours a day, then however many weeks of being tired, taking meds, and careful washing, gradually feeling more and more normal until you’re back up to full and ready to get back to business as usual.

Except with this one, you get to learn to pee standing up in the process. :D

(Protip: don’t try a public urinal until you’ve got it down pat at home. Not because of cis men, but because the learning process is messy, lol! The overwhelming majority of cis men in public restrooms want nothing to do with anyone else while they’re in there. The only place anyone’s gonna give your dick more than half a second’s accidental glance is in a gay bar. In 8+ years of using public men’s rooms I have yet to see one (1) penis that wasn’t mine!)

[padfootagain]

Old Crush

Hello ! Here is a request that was sent my way by an anon : ‘Great! So I had this idea for a Ben imagine... So you were a big fan of Ben since you saw him in the Narnia movies, and you had a crush on him for years. Now, years later you're dating him but you never told him about knowing who he was before meeting him nor about this crush you had on him/his character (does that have sense?😅) And somehow he finds out and he's mad about it because he feels betrayed that you lied and he thinks you are only dating him because of who he is. But a happy ending, please!’

Thank you for sending in a request, anon! I hope you enjoy what I’ve written for you!

I hope you all like this! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Warnings: a bit of angst. Hurt/comfort. Fluffy ending. (the ask was perfect to use some interviews about Ordinary Day so… because I don’t know but whenever he speaks about being enough my heart just goes dfiejierjiejri)

Summary: Ben didn’t know that you were a fan of his already before you started dating, and when he finds out, he doesn’t like it at all. All his insecurities are suddenly brought back to life…

Word Count: 3156

Ben's Masterlist - Main Masterlist

It was a beautiful day, odds were in Ben’s favour to spend a lovely afternoon with you.

Lunch in the sun on your balcony, in your shared home, eating a tasty meal and drinking some fine wine. He glimpsed at the shining ring on your finger as the gem caught the sun and glimmered even more than usual, while he listened to you ramble about something exciting that happened at work. And it was perfect.

Perfect. Everything about this moment, about you, about the two of you… was perfect.

He wasn’t claiming that it wasn’t hard sometimes, because it was. You butted heads, you fought from time to time, you got annoyed at him and he got mad at you. He was away often and you weren’t always around. Sometimes, it was rough, but it was worth it. That was what Ben meant when ‘perfect’ popped into his mind to be written on everything around him. No matter what, he was certain you were the one. No matter what, he was certain he would fight for you. The two of you would make it work, no matter what. Because you were everything he wanted, and he was enough for you.

Him. Ben. Not Ben Barnes, not the actor, not the fame, not the money… just… him. Simple Ben who overthought everything, was too cautious sometimes, had only a vague idea of what a meme was, loved goofing around, and made a mediocre chili that he claimed was amazing. You loved him, and he knew it. He knew that if tomorrow he dropped everything and walked out of the glamour and fame you would hold his hand and give him a bright smile and ask ‘okay, where are we going, then?’ And it made it perfect. To be enough made it perfect…

A dreamy smile formed on his lips at the thought that this was going to last forever. You were signing up for a lifetime together. Endless supplies of banter, of conversations that lasted till dawn, of cuddles on the sofa, of kisses in a kitchen bathed with dawn, of hands holding on each other as if they never wanted to let go. Endless supplies of silly fights forgotten on the pillow, of eyes opening to the sight of the other sleeping, of boxes of chocolate brought home every day for a week every month, of flights caught to close the distance, of faces drawn in pixels and voices distorted by phones, of painful goodbyes before climbing in a cab.

All of it, good or bad, was about to last for the rest of your lives, together. A couple of months more to wait until you would both say yes and be each other’s for a lifetime…

Sometimes, he wondered if things would have been different if you had met under different circumstances. Instead of bumping – quite literally – into each other in this supermarket… what if you had met and started dating knowing who he was? Would he have opened up so easily then? Would he have let himself be drawn to you with such a force?

But then again, you didn’t know who he was back then. And he was thankful for it. He hadn’t had to worry about the fame, about you being earnest, about money… none of that mattered, not between the two of you.

He was just Ben with you, and it was enough. And you were just Y/N, and it was enough.

“Are you even listening at this point?”

Ben shook himself out of his dreamy state, looking away from your shimmering ring and up to your eyes again. He wanted to drown in their colour forever…

You were amused more than annoyed, head tilted to the side and a playful smile on your lips.

“You’re talking about Francis breaking the coffee machine. Again,” he answered with a cocky smile. “Of course, I’m listening, love.”

“You seemed to have zoned out for a moment,” you explained before eating the last bite of your dessert.

“Was just… kind of lost in thought, I guess. But I was listening.”

“What were you thinking about? You were smiling, it ought to be nice.”

His smile widened, something mischievous and flirtatious added to the crooked gesture.

“I was thinking about this,” he answered, nodding towards your ring. “And about all the naughty things we’ll do on our honeymoon.”

You laughed, choking on the piece of fruit you were eating. And God, did he adore that sound…

“And… what kind of thoughts these might be? Are you making plans?” you asked back, flirt lowering your voice too, and Ben couldn’t help the way his heart jumped in his chest at the sound.

“I am, actually,” he fought back, leaning a little across the table, a dangerous glint darkening his black eyes. “I have a full list, at this point… of things I’m going to do to you.”

He noticed your sharp intake of breath, and leaned back in his chair, winking at you in a seductive way, making you nervously giggle.

“Can’t wait for that, then… Can I get a preview?”

Ben let out a loud laugh, shaking his head.

“No way, I’m keeping that for later. We should relax this afternoon.”

“Sex is… relaxing…”

“No…” Ben shook his head, amused.

Instead, Ben ended up doing the dishes while you settled on the sofa and looked for something to watch on TV. You went through the channels, until Ben’s face appeared on the screen.

“Oh! Honey! You’re on TV!”

Ben chuckled, putting away the last plate before walking inside the living room to join you. Indeed, his face was on the screen; a shaven, much younger version of himself.

“Oh, it’s Narnia,” he said with a fond smile on his lips as some of his friends appeared on the screen as well.

He sat by your side on the sofa and immediately snuggled against you, rolling his eyes as you whistled when he was on the screen again, playfully catcalling him.

“My… my… look at this handsome guy, right there!” you teased, pinching his side, and Ben couldn’t help but blush.

“Not bad, huh? Is he your type?” he asked, playing along, the red reaching the tip of his ears.

He tried hard to refrain a grin, but he couldn’t.

“Definitely! He looks a little like my fiancé, you see?”

“Oh, I see…”

You both exploded with laughter, unable to keep a straight face for much longer.

“You are definitely my type,” you went on. “God… even then, I had a crush on you!”

Ben frowned, looking at you questioningly.

“What do you mean?”

He squeezed your thigh, the feeling of your body against him reassuring.

“Well… even as Caspian, I had a crush on you.”

“When?”

His frown deepened, and he couldn’t help the way his heart sped up all of a sudden. Because… you couldn’t be meaning that. You didn’t know who he was when you met…

“I mean that when I watched Narnia for the first time, I had a crush on Caspian. So… on you… kind of.”

“But when did you watch it?”

“When it came out! I went to see these movies with some friends at the time.”

You seemed puzzled by his reaction, and perhaps it was normal for you to do so. You frowned, the small crease forming across your brow. And perhaps it was but logical for you to react like that, but Ben didn’t think so. Instead, he merely stared at you, frowning hard, almost glaring, his jaw clenched tight, all of a sudden…

“What?” you asked, even more taken aback as Ben sat up, letting go of you completely.

You knew him before you met. You knew who he was that day, in the supermarket, and during your first date and…

You had a crush on him already? What… if you knew who he was then… had you ever been interested in him back then? That rainy afternoon when you bumped so hard into him in this supermarket he fell over?

He couldn’t control the way his heart was racing, the growing feeling that was crushing his chest more and more. This feeling, so painful, of… betrayal…

“Ben? What’s wrong, honey?”

He got up at the sound of the nickname.

Was it real? From the beginning? And why had you not told him you knew who he was? What was your plan? Were you… were you lying about the two of you?

“You’ve never told me,” he spoke at last, voice low and shaking with an anger he struggled to control.

You shrugged; and Ben hated you for it. Because everything was crumbling around him, his mind was spiralling, and you were… shrugging?

“What about it? I love these movies. Haven’t watched them in ages, though…”

“When we met… when we went on our first date, you never told me you knew who I was.”

You frowned hard, failing to understand why he seemed angry now, why his voice was so low, a rumble of upcoming thunder.

“I didn’t recognize you at first,” you admitted. “Not in the supermarket. Not before you told me your full name, and that you were an actor.”

“That was on our first date! Why didn’t you tell me then?”

But again, you shrugged, at a loss for words. And he could see it in your eyes: that you didn’t understand what was happening, why he was mad, what you had done wrong.

Ben tried to take a few deep breaths, in an attempt to slow down his pounding heart and to clear his head. But it didn’t work well…

“What does it matter, anyway?” you asked, and Ben scoffed in response, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“You should have told me…”

“Why? It was ages ago… who cares?”

“I care!” he replied, raising his voice, the announced storm finally reaching the surface, making the air heavy and filled with electricity.

“I don’t understand,” you admitted, keeping your voice low and calm, but it didn’t soothe Ben’s anger.

“I thought… You said you hadn’t watched anything I was in. You lied!”

“I didn’t lie! At the time, you had just finished working on the Punisher, and I hadn’t watched that.”

Four years… that was too long ago, he couldn’t remember the exact words that were spoken. And perhaps you were right. Perhaps you had never claimed to have never watched anything he had been in but were only unaware of the project he was working on at the time. Perhaps he had been the one distorting your words a little. But it didn’t matter. Ben was still angry, even if he might be in the wrong.

Because it meant that… how could he trust you now? How could he know that you were the one? That he he was enough?

“Did you go on a date with me because I’m an actor?”

It was your turn to be hurt, he read it in your eyes.

“What?”

“Did you accept to go on a date with me only because I’m an actor? Just for the clout?”

“How dare you!” you protested, standing up as well, hurt mingling now with anger. “Of course not! Who do you think I am?”

“I don’t know… I’m not sure to know that anymore…”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought you went on a date with me, and then became my girlfriend because you… not because of the fame, or the money or…”

“Of course, I didn’t! What’s next, you’re gonna call me a whore and claim I only slept with you for money? I don’t need your money, and I never have!”

“I didn’t say that…”

“You’d better not! Besides, let’s bring your ego down a notch, because you might be talented, but you’re not a superstar either, Ben.”

“No need to be mean.”

“You’re basically saying I’ve slept with you for money! How is that not insulting?”

But Ben was less and less convincing at hiding his hurt behind his anger. Because there were tears at the corners of his angry gaze, and a shakiness in his voice due to a tightened throat; and if he clenched his jaw and fists now, it was to hide the fear that crept within his heart.

Because if you had fantasized on this person he wasn’t… was it what you saw in him? Was it what you saw at the beginning, at least?

Because he thought that he was enough, but then again… was he? Had you fallen in love with him or with the image of him you already liked?

“What about the fantasy of it then? What about that crush on someone I’m not?” he spat, holding onto the rage to hide the fragility he longed to forget.

“What are you even talking about?”

“Was I a fantasy to you?”

“What?!”

“You heard me.”

“What do you mean ‘a fantasy’?”

“Well, I don’t know… Apparently you had a crush on me before we even met! Or, to be more precise, you had a crush on someone I am not.”

He expected you to keep your voice high, maybe to raise your voice even more. But you didn’t. Instead, he was taken aback as you visibly relaxed, as your gaze softened, as you heaved a sigh.

“Ben… what’s wrong? For real?”

“I told you what was wrong! You lied, and now… I don’t even know if this is real anymore. Us. Our whole relationship… we were supposed to get married!”

“Were?”

“I don’t know anymore.”

But he regretted these words as soon as they passed his lips. Because despite his stupid doubts, he loved you with all his heart. You were the one, he knew it.

Why was he pushing you away like this, then?

But you didn’t fall for it, didn’t follow him down this path of anger he was opening for you. Instead, you wrapped your arms around him, holding him tightly, and he was so taken aback that he didn’t protest, nor moved away.

“I love you,” you said, your voice soothing again, warm and reassuring, your natural tone. “I love you more than anything. And this has nothing to do with your job, or with whether or not I liked Caspian years ago. I fell in love with you on our seventh date when you got us lost on our way to the beach because you have no sense of direction whatsoever.”

He rolled his eyes, but you weren’t fooled. You could feel the muscles of his back relaxing under your hands.

“I love you, Ben. You know I do. So… what is this all about?”

He shrugged, looking away so you wouldn’t see that he was holding back tears.

How could he say it? That he was terrified all over again that one day you would change your mind. That one day, you wouldn’t think as him being enough…

Because it happened before, but you didn’t really know that. It happened, over and over again. Because people expected him to be someone else, and they fell for his public image at first, for a fictional character, and then they woke up next to him and they just… disappeared. Because disappointment always drove people away.

But this time around, it was different. You were different. You made him feel so safe, so confident, so loved… if you turned up to dismiss him just like the others, Ben wasn’t certain he would be able to overcome it this time around.

But he couldn’t tell you that.

It was okay, though, he didn’t really have to. You read it in his eyes when you caught his gaze for a second before he could look away once more, you noticed it in his clenched jaw and the slight shaking of his hands, you saw it in the fear that he tried to hide still but was painted in every crinkle of his handsome face.

“There’s no need to push me away,” you spoke in the softest voice, and he felt safe all over again. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving. I’m happy with you. And I don’t care about anything but being with you. With the real you. The one waking up way too early on Sundays, and who gets lost everywhere he goes, and always has to make lists for everything, and sings all the time, and cuddles me every morning, and worries about our tickets way too much when we leave for a vacation and… You. Just you. I just want to be with you, Ben. Everything else doesn’t matter. Okay? Do you understand? I don’t need anything more, as long as I can spend my life loving you.”

You could have gone on, but Ben suddenly wrapped his arms around you as well, finally reciprocating your gesture, and he held you tightly, so tightly you could hardly breathe, but you didn’t mind.

You heard him sniffing as he buried his face into your hair, breathed deeply the sweet scent of your shampoo.

He was being ridiculous… this was ridiculous… You were right. You loved him. And he loved you… God, he loved you so damn much, it physically hurt…

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, trying to calm down, anger slowly being replaced by this sense of fragility he was desperate to avoid. “I didn’t… I’m sorry. It was pretty ridiculous, right?”

“It’s okay.”

“I… I guess I had a little… insecurity crisis for a moment.”

“Yeah, I got that. I don’t really understand why though.”

“It’s just… I’m afraid sometimes that people don’t like me as much as they like the idea they have of me. Do you understand?”

Slowly, you nodded, he felt your head moving against his cheek and shoulder.

“I see. But I don’t care about that. I love you for who you are.”

It was his time to nod.

“It’s just… I’m worried sometimes that one day you’ll realize I’m just me, nothing more. And that… I’m not… that I can’t get you more than that. More than me.”

“But you’re everything I need, Ben. You’re enough. You’re so much more than enough, actually.”

Finally, he smiled, grinned even, you felt the gesture against your skin as he pressed his lips to your temple.

“I feel very stupid. I’m sorry,” he apologized in a whisper.

“It’s alright.”

“Are you mad?”

“No, I’m not. I think you could have handled that better, but it’s okay. Do you still want to watch a movie with me?”

He chuckled, pulling away just enough to gently hold your face in both his hands, and kiss you for a rather long time. If any trace of anger had remained in your heart, it was fully gone after this loving gesture.

He offered you a grateful smile when you finally opened your eyes again.

“I will always want to watch movies with you, my love. Even when I act like an idiot.”

***************************************

Taglist: @reg-arcturus-black @wolfmoonmusic

[writeroutoftime]

please love me

pairing: steve harrington x reader (requested by: anon)

summary: based on the prompt "after all...I'm just a girl, standing in front of boy, asking him to love her." - Notting Hill

words: 0.5k

a/n: another late response to my valentine's blurb challenge, but now it's my love is in the air for spring blurbs lol. anyway, steve harrington is the love of my life and this was so fun to write!

oOoOo

What a mess you had made of it all. The look of hurt and betrayal on Steve's face was ingrained into your memory. You never meant for things to get this far. If someone would have told you in one week your best friend (and secret crush) Steve would confess his feelings to you and you would be the one to accidentally break his heart, you would have called them crazy.

For years Steve had been one of your closest friends, but in the past twelve months you longed for more. His pretty eyes and floppy hair had pulled you in and you never wanted to be far from him. The only thing that held you back was the paralyzing fear of losing Steve completely from his confession.

So, imagine your surprise when Steve was the first to confess his feelings during your weekly movie night. The words sent you into shock and all you could do was stare at the poor boy who sat in front of you. In fact, you stayed frozen for so long, Steve took it as a rejection, mumbled some half-assed excuse, and booked it back to his own place. As soon as the door slammed behind him, you groaned and ran your hands down your face in frustration.

The next day, you were determined to make amends with Steve and return his feelings by catching him as he got off of work. Unfortunately, you never got the chance because before you could get inside, you were stopped by your ex who happened to be walking by.

He came up to you and stepped so close you could feel his breath on your skin. It made you want to recoil. No matter how much you told him so, he wouldn't take the hint that the two of you would never be together again. However, he crossed the line when he grabbed your face and pressed his lips to yours. Immediately, you pushed away from him disgusted by his actions. But what hurt even more was seeing Steve's broken face as he watched the interaction from afar before running to his car.

oOoOo

Trying again the next day, your knuckles rapped against his door gently, as though it was Steve you were touching. The wait between your last knock and the opening of the door felt like a lifetime, and you sighed in relief when you saw Steve standing in front of you. His eyes were dimmer than normal, and his clothes looked rumpled, but he was still your Steve.

"Hi." you began rather lamely, not sure where to start.

Steve did not seem to be in the mood for small talk. "What do you want, y/n?" he deadpanned.

"I'm sorry for what happened, but you have to know what you saw is a completely misunderstanding." you began and rushed to continue as you watched Steve silently scoff at your words. "I didn't want him to be there, to be that close to me, or to even talk to me. I told him that all we're exes and that's all it's going to ever be. I'm so sorry that I hurt you, Steve."

"Yeah, well why should I believe you? I don't wanna be anyone's second choice."

His words hit hard in your chest. It was no secret how vulnerable Steve could be and for good reasons. You never wanted to be the person to cause him to doubt his worth. "Well, I'm here aren't I? After all, I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love you." you confessed, waiting with battered breath.

It took a moment, but Steve seemed to visibly soften at your words and let his guard down once more. "Y-you mean that? You love me?"

"Of course, I love you, Steve. I've been wanting to tell you for months, but I was always too scared. But I'm done being scared now."

He just laughed and pulled you in for a hug reveling in the warmth of your body. He looked at you lovingly and couldn't help but finally take the chance to wrap his arms around you and kiss you. Just like you said, he too was done being scared and it definitely paid off.

[duchess-kyuupid]

hi there

can you write idia’s reaction to his fem or gn s/o singing “good riddance” from Hades (the video game) pls? this song and idia both live rent free in my head rn lmao

have a nice day 😸

OMG You literally made my day with this ask, darling <333 I love Hades, and the first time I heard Eurydice singing it I was nearly brought to tears ToT Of course, I'll be more than happy to fulfill your request, and I hope that you enjoy!! For anyone who hasn't played Hades or just wants to listen to the song anon is referring to, here it is! (The audio comes out too loud for me, so I'd recommend lowering your volume a touch just in case! When I was testing it, the sound was just blaring into my ears and I don't know how to make it quieter;;)

~~~

~Idia Hears Fem! Reader Singing~

[Tw: Soft angst to comfort] *Don't need to know/play Hades to read*

To say that today has been a bad day for Idia Shroud would be an understatement. It's been one thing after another, each terrible thing piling up on his shoulders heavier than the last. They say that when it rains, it pours- and Idia feels that this statement could not be closer to the truth. He feels exhausted just thinking about how long this day has been, and it's barely even 3 pm! But he's had enough social interaction in all of today to make up for a lifetime of self-isolation. He's tired, his battery has run out- there's no chance that anyone's going to be seeing him leaving his room at least for the next week, and even when he does leave it'll be with his floating tablet.

At last he makes it back to his room, but he's far too tired to do anything but to crawl into his bed and lie there, doing nothing but hope to start feeling better. He doesn't want to see anyone, doesn't want to hear anyone, he just wants some peace and quiet, away from everything that's making him anxious. But apparently he can't even have that, as a sudden knock on his door pulls him away from his sulking. "Big brother, big brother! I have something to show you!" Ortho says excitedly, "I know you'll just love it! Can I come in?"

'I can't have Ortho seeing me like this,' Idia thinks, 'I'm just a useless Housewarden who can't do anything... Ortho doesn't need to see his brother being so cowardly, so utterly worthless that it'd be better if I'd just go back home to the underworld and never see this place again...'

"If you don't wanna open the door, I'll just play it for you from out here!" Ortho exclaims, and suddenly Idia is pulled from his gloomy thoughts when he hears a golden tune ring out from behind the door.

'Farewell, to all the earthly remains,' wait, Idia knows that voice... 'No burdens, No further debts to be paid,' that's the voice of the one person who could make his day even slightly better.

'Atlas, Can rest his weary bones, The weight of the world, All falls away, In time,' That's right, it's you. You're singing. To him.

'Goodbye, To all the plans that we made,' Wait, are you actually outside of the door with Ortho? You're actually here? To see him?

'No contracts, I’m free to do as I may,' Idia heard your voice continue to sing, to ring out beautifully as if your voice was weaving gold through a spindle.

And he couldn't take it any longer. He wanted to hear your singing, not through the door of his room, but right next to him, and he wanted to hold you and have all of his worries from today melt away with you in his arms. He rushes out of his bed and opens the door, his eyes glimmering with hope of seeing you behind it, only for the small smile that was invisibly growing on his face to extinguish when he realizes that Ortho was the only one there.

Ah, and now he feels even worse. His disappointment was so apparent, he didn't even try to hide it when his eyes met Ortho's big, bright, and innocent ones. He felt bad that he was so disappointed that it was his baby brother, because don't get him wrong, he absolutely adores Ortho, it's just-

It's just that today's been really long. He already felt shitty enough. But he should have known that you weren't going to actually be there, after all you were travelling outside of the college for once to see the world of Twisted Wonderland. You had told him before you left that you were going to be gone for a while, which makes him even more miserable, knowing that he won't be able to be with you when he's already so stressed out.

But is it really so bad that he had even a glimmer of hope? The hope that maybe, just maybe, you had decided to come back early and surprise him with a visit?

"There you are, big brother!" Ortho says, unaffected by Idia's visible disappointment in seeing him, "I know that you've been missing miss (Name) a lot recently, so I've got this recording of her singing for you!"

"U-uhm, thank you, Ortho...Where did you even get this recording from?" Idia asks timidly.

"I came across her one day when she was singing on her own in the woods! So I used the recording feature you installed in my programming so that I could show it to you," Ortho states, and even though his mouth was covered, you could basically hear his radiating smile. Idia smiles softly and his eyes soften as he replies,

"Thanks Ortho, would you mind sending me the file? I wanna listen to it through my headphones for a while."

"Of course, big brother! I've already sent it to your phone." Ortho 'smiles' brightly as Idia thanks him and closes the door. And without a second thought, Idia pulls up his phone, finds the recording file and starts to play it through his headphones, drowning out the rests of the world in preference to the sound of your voice.

'No hunger, No sleep except to dream, Mild and warm, Safe from all harm, Calm....' As you sing these lyrics in particular, Idia feels pounds of his anxiety and stress wash off of him in waves. As if your voice itself was a spell, Idia was in a trance. And he feels mild, and warm...He feels safe from all harm...and calm.

'Good riddance, To all the thieves, To all the fools that stifled me, They’ve come and gone, And passed me by, Good riddance, To all...' 'Farewell To all the earthly remains...' 'No burdens No further debts to be paid,'

'Atlas, Can rest his weary bones, The weight of the world, All falls away, In time...' And by the time your lovely song is over, he's already manually repeating the recording. It looked like there was probably an extra two or three minutes of empty sound at the end of the recording, and Idia wanted- no, needed to hear your voice right now, he didn't want to wait like 3 minutes before the song automatically looped, after all he could have listened to your whole song again in that timeframe!

It came to no surprise to him that he accidentally fell asleep listening to you sing. Again, it's been a really, really, long day, and just,, being able to listen to you like this was just what he needed to begin to relax and calm down.

What did come to him as a surprise though, was when he woke up early the next morning and your song was still playing through his headphones. And he felt good, he never knew that this is how feeling truly rested feels like. So as he's lounging on his bed, staring at his ceiling as your song continues to ring through his head like silk, and he figures that he'd listen to the rest of your song one last time, and then he'd get up and get something to eat, or perhaps he'd go take a shower or something.

So the song ends, and he's left with the empty sound at the end of the recording. He sighs and stretches out languidly, and then he starts to move to take off the headphones before he's surprised to hear a startled gasp, followed by the sound of you talking.

"Ortho! Geez, you nearly gave me a heart attack there! How long have you been there for?" "Sorry miss (Name)! I heard you singing and I wanted to come and listen!" "My singing? Oh, it's not that good, really." "I disagree! I heard your whole song, your voice is so pretty!" "Why thank you."

Idia hears you chuckle breathlessly. 'Your laugh is beautiful' he thinks.

"Actually miss (Name), do you mind if I keep your song as a recording? I'm sure that big brother would be ecstatic to hear you sing!" "I don't mind. As a matter of fact, I was thinking of him when I was singing it anyway, so it would be nice if you did show it to him. I don't know if I'd be able to sing it in front of him perfectly like that without knowing what his reaction would be.. Oh, but are you going to keep this conversation in?" "Don't worry, I'm not going to!" "Actually, do you think you can leave this in? I wanna leave a message for him, if you don't mind." "Okay, sure thing! I'll make sure that he listens to it."

He hears you walk closer to Ortho, and he's holding his breath as if he wouldn't be able to hear your message if he took even a single breath of air. But what you say, though, knocks the wind right out of him, because he realizes that he's been asleep listening to you talking to his beloved younger brother (and he's so, so happy that you care for Ortho as if he was your own brother too), and that he's been asleep listening to you say these last few words saved for the very end of the recording.

"Idia, I love you."

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

LITERALLY this was so cute to write TwT I think this might be my favorite so far.... Eurydice is my comfort character ngl and I spent like this whole morning listening to her sing (even singing along myself to get a feel for what kinds of emotions she's trying to convey) and just generally I had so, so much fun with this prompt. Thank you anon for the request, and I hope that you all enjoyed reading!

[thlayli-ra]

WIP Timeline

I enjoy writing a list. So that I can eventually tick things off that list. Which is why I wrote this list to map out what I'm writing/drawing in the next wee while and cross them off as I go. Maybe some of you out there might be interested too.

- The Moon Rises Red Tonight - final chapter is about 90% complete and I'm aiming to post it later this week.

- Rise of Knight, part 6 - I've banned myself from drawing anything else until I've finished the next page, which I have already started to 'ink'. After that, there's only one page left and it's the whole reason I made it in the first place so I hopefully won't leave it too long.

- Hunter/Prey Au (CM Punk/Drew McIntyre) - Aiming for this to be a one-shot/two chapter fic. About 20% done but will be my main focus for now alongside Ashes.

- Out of the Ashes - Now my main focus until it's complete.

- Secret Project - Shhhh! 🤫

- Cody Valetverse Fic - A request that I'm keen to work on. Likely to be a one-shot, it'll be a side project after Hunter AU.

- Valetverse ficlet - Have an idea rattling around my head for a follow-up to 'When Hell Froze Over'. Probably a day or two's work.

- Winners Rooms AU (LA Knight/Roman Reigns) - Delayed. Currently about 30% complete but I'm struggling to nail the tone I'm wanting.

- Valetverse one-shot - Knowing me, I do need a little distraction once in a while when I'm writing a multi-chapter fic so will probably dip back into the valetverse, either for another LA Knight sequel or the Phil Calaway prequel. Ooh, there's also the Finn/Samoa Joe one!

- Art (various) - LA Knight/Roman Reigns sub/dom pic currently in the works, Summer of Punk request for @piledrivemytombstones , CodyPunk project for Anon, Punkintyre request for Anon, Art trade for @taydaq plus some more artwork of my fanfics. Phew!

- Flint and Steel, Part III (Finn Balor/Seth Rollins) - It's feels like a lifetime ago since I immersed myself in the F&S AU and I'm missing it terribly. Once Ashes is complete, this will be my next focus.

- Valets of WWE Sequel - Ideas keep creeping in for this but like before, there will be plenty of room for reader requests.

Updated!

As always, there will be new ideas and distractions come up but that's the general plan anyway. Oh, and I'm always happy to share snippets of my WIPs or ideas I have for them so feel free to send me asks. 😘

[sitp-recs]

Fandom creators self rec game! Choose five favourites from your own creations (and tell me why, if you like!), then pass on to at least five other people. I'd love to hear what you're proudest of.

Hello beloved! It’s always a privilege to see you in my inbox, thank you so much for this lovely ask and apologies for taking two centuries to reply lol this was a quite emotional trip down memory lane for me - I couldn’t decide whether to go with rec lists or single recs (oof I haven’t written one in so long 🥲) because they’re both so different and special in their own way. In the end I’m gonna do lists because I think they’re generally more helpful and popular! I’ve been going through a creative / fandom slump for a while now, so this was great encouragement as it made me look back at my own recs with joy and kindness. Thank you babes 💜

1. I actually still love the Drarry for Beginners series! Fun story, I wasn’t very confident about it at first - I was getting many requests for a classics rec list back then but I don’t really vibe with the “MUST read these or you’re not a valid fandom member” mentality so I tried to come up with a different format that felt more like an invitation than a lecture. I think I found a good balance of well known fics and hidden gems, so I’m very proud of that. Also, the banners looked really good! Especially the redemption arc and the Muggle!Draco AU ones if I do say so myself.

2. The Hidden Gems series is also one of my most precious babies - it took me a long time to plan it out, read all fics and prepare the small blurbs for each one and I really love how it came across, the authors I chose to highlight, and the fact that I was able to mix Drarry and rare pairs. I remember getting an ask back in the day that accused me of only reccing my friends (anon really overestimated my network size 🤣), they could have at least checked the hidden gem series before going for public embarrassment lol there’s so much to explore there, and I really wanna come back to it one day to finalize the second edition that I started posting in 2022. Hopefully this year!

3. 35 Romantic Shorts: my heart is so very soft for this one, not only because the ever generous @bluebutter-art has let me use her stunning art for the banner, but I’m also such a passionate champion of short form and I feel like this list really embraced the concept and delivered great recs. I’m not a fluff gal by any standards so this was a nice exercise finding the softest, most romantic and soothing reads that made my heart beat faster. It would be lovely to go back and maybe add a couple more lists with new shorts, or alternatively make new lists for medium-length and long fics. So many ideas, so little time!

4. It feels like a lifetime ago but I’m still very fond of my “smutty recs week” that I made to celebrate one of my first followers milestone. Ahh the nostalgia! All lists can be found here and include a wide variety of themes and kinks like voyeurism, dirty talk, gang bang and others. Those banners are some of my favourites too, they turned out very sassy and clever if I do say so myself. I had so much fun with them! I gotta find the time to sit down and update some of those lists with newer treats!

5. Now highlighting something more recent (from Feb 2023… LOL) I’m super proud of my Rare Pair Romance list for Valentine’s Day. It was a great chance to compile (most of) my favorite rare pair fics in one place and include different ships and tropes. I’m always looking for an excuse to rec het pairings which I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, so this was the perfect way to do it.

[brighteststar707]

I don't usually message ppl off of anon but I thought it'd be fun to participate. 👉👈👀💦 Can I take ruby chocolate with Saeyoung and a fem MC and basically have some warm domestic fluff where they're trying to get used to being together? could be suggestive or not, up to you.

Amy! I'm so happy you decided to come off anon and join! Thank you for the request!

Listen... I don't know what happened here. I had an idea in my head, and suddenly it was 2k+ words. Just be warned. I tried to make it as fluffy and domestic as possible, so I hope I captured the vibes!

Slots are still open for the milestone event!

✧ Ruby Chocolate ~ Showing physical affection

Saeyoung lies in bed, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars he pasted up on the ceiling a lifetime ago. Beside him, his partner lies sleeping. She fell asleep an hour (maybe more) ago, and he has been listening to her slow, steady breaths for a while now.  

He has always had trouble sleeping. His anxiety, left over from years of having to be alert at all hours of the day, keeps him up at night. Even the reassurance that the two people he loves most are safe isn’t always enough to calm him down. Sometimes, his thoughts just keep running. It leaves him restless and antsy, desperate to get up and do something about it.

He sighs and shifts over to lie on his side. If he tried, he could just about make out his girlfriend’s form in the dark. They’re close, but not touching, but even if they were, she’d still be worlds away. It’s a strange thing to think, but he misses her. Nights like this leave him feeling like the only person in the world.

Tonight, he can’t help but watch her, the steady rising and falling of her chest. She only moved in a month ago, so having her here next to him is still a novelty. So many things are still new to them.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Saeyoung spent the first two weeks of his relationship believing that he might never get to see the future he had been dreaming up. He was wired to believe that every day might be his last, and if this mission to save Saeran was the most important one of his life, then why wouldn’t it be the one to kill him? The life he was hoping for was one he didn’t deserve, after all (though he never said this part out loud).

It’s a strange way to live, when you’re unsure if you’ll still be alive in a week. Stranger still when you’re experiencing real love for the first time. All the hesitation and awkwardness that usually come with new love were pushed aside, because he was certain his days were numbered. Why would he wait to confess to her how deeply he cares for her? Why would they not kiss when they want to? It was now or never.

The physical boundaries between them quickly eroded after they left the apartment together. There was rarely a moment in the next week where they weren’t touching . He rested his hand on her thigh as he drove for hours on end, she would curl up next to him while he was working, they’d pull each other closer as they drifted off to sleep.

It surprised him how quickly he got used to this familiarity. He had spent so much time by himself, isolated from the world, that he had never imagined being able to keep someone so close to him. They felt like extensions of each other, not made to be separated now that they had finally found one another.

It wasn’t just physical closeness, either. They bared their souls to one other and shared their secrets and fears with one another. He was open about his feelings for her, and she seemed to understand him almost better than he understood himself.

She always seemed to be able to read him so easily. It was a surprisingly comfortable feeling, to be known by her.

When he woke up in the hospital after the events that happened at Mint Eye and found her sitting by his bedside, it felt like a divine gift. He had survived this mission and been given the chance to deliver on all the promises he made. He’d actually be allowed to get more than just a few days with the person he loved. If he was lucky, he’d get a lifetime.

If the first days had felt like a whirlwind, the following months were agonizingly slow. He remembers a lot of hospital waiting rooms, frustrating conversations with doctors that never seemed to go anywhere, and painful silences in the bunker as he waited for Saeran to say something, anything.

He knew that his plan to break Saeran out of the hospital would mean a prolonged separation from his girlfriend, but he didn’t realize just how painful the distance would be. He found himself back in his office on most days, reminiscing the days where all he could do was wait for a text from her (and here he was again, still waiting on her texts).

They both knew it was worth it. Saeran’s recovery was their top priority, the first step to building up their family. It didn’t make it any easier, though. For a while, all they could manage was talking over the phone. They’d remind each other that this was the road to a future that they both wanted.  They just had to get through this part.

When he let himself fantasize about a time when they could be together again, he thought back to those early days. Hunger for closeness and the comfort that only physical touch could bring. His arm over her shoulders, her hands in his hair, the softness of her skin. He craved her.

Imagine his surprise when they finally reunited and he found himself tongue tied. He wanted to reach for her, to hug her tight and never let go, but he could barely reach out to hold her hand. The time they spent apart seemed to have manifested in a physical distance between the two of them that neither of them knew exactly how to breach. The familiarity they had built up in their days on the road was something they seemed to have lost.

When they tried to talk to each other, their sentences came out stilted. He could hear the things they were trying to say between the lines, the things they actually meant under all the pleasantries and vague comments, but it was caught in their throats. Their conversations consisted of more words unsaid than anything meaningful.

It was ridiculous to him. They were in love, had already promised each other the world, already gone through all the steps that other couples had gone through, only to land back at square one.

How had he once been able to be so emotionally vulnerable with her? Now he can barely find the words to tell her that her absence has felt like a missing limb. That he still wakes up from nightmares scared that she's hurt.

He started to worry that they were moving backwards instead of forwards. All this time apart wasn’t doing them any good. He decided that, as soon as he got Saeran’s blessing, he would ask her to move in with them. Sharing the same space again, going through the process of healing from the things they had been through together instead of apart would bridge that distance that had built up during their separation, or so he hoped.

The bunker had been empty for so long, that two extra inhabitants made it feel bustling (even when Saeran didn’t leave his room very often). He was still surprised by the sight of her just relaxing in the living room or working on something at her own desk. She was here with him, in this house that has so often felt like an isolation cell. With both her and Saeran living here with him, it had slowly turned into a home without him even realizing it.

Slowly, they started to find their way back to each other. One day, while sitting on the sofa with a book, she found him hovering at the doorway to the living room, unsure whether to enter and interrupt her or just let her enjoy her time. She smiled at him affectionately and beckoned him over to her. He joined her on the sofa (not close enough for them to touch, he thought with frustration), and smiled sheepishly.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” he said, eyes going to the book sitting forgotten on her lap.

“So you decided that hanging out at the door like a creeper was the best option?” She asks teasingly.

He doesn’t have an answer for her. He can feel the heat rising in his cheeks, as it has been doing so often since they reunited. He could have sworn he wasn’t this easily embarrassed around her before (and she’d disagree with him). He laughs bashfully and his hand shoots to the back of his neck. “I… guess?”

She shakes her head in mock disapproval, “I thought you were more discreet than that, agent.”

“So what are you reading?” If he changes the subject, maybe she’ll stop teasing him and he’ll be able to think clearly again.

“It’s an old favourite. Want to hear about it?”

“Of course.”

“Then – “ she clumsily gestures to the empty space next to her. “Come here. You’re too far away.”

He laughs properly this time. There couldn’t’ be a more apt description of their current situation. At her invitation, he shuffles over so he’s resting against her. She runs her fingers through his hair, probably trying to smooth out the stubborn bits that never seem to want to lay flat. It’s a familiar gesture, one that immediately puts him at ease.

Before he can stop it, he says, “I missed you.”

She presses a quick kiss to his hairline. “Me too.”

It got easier from then on. They’d seek each other out in each other’s spaces, and soon they were automatically making room for each other. The conversation flowed more easily, and they started to reach for each other like it was second nature.

He’d find her in the kitchen, and wrap his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. He’d laugh when she shivered at the feeling of his breath against her ear and ask her for a taste of whatever she was making.

She’d join him in his office, first pulling up a spare chair (one that had once been Vanderwoods), then slipping onto his lap at his invitation.

Like blood returning to a limb gone to sleep, they fell back into sync with each other. It felt natural, right.

If he asked her to describe what it was like to live with him after a month, she’d say he was like a clingy cat, which is a metaphor she thinks he’d appreciate if she ever told it to him.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Eventually, he gives in and gets out of bed. He swears to himself he’ll just tinker for a few hours to settle his mind, maybe play a round of LOLOL with Yoosung if he’s still up, then go back to bed. She won’t even notice. He’ll be back in bed before morning, in time to be with her again by the time she wakes up.

In his office, he pulls out plans he had started working on for upgrades to his front gate. He has a lot more to protect in the bunker now than he ever had, and he has been overflowing with ideas on how to keep the place safe.

He isn’t even aware of how much time passes as he works, alternating between plans and little bits he already has started. In fact, he’s so focused on his work that at first, he doesn’t hear the door to his office opening.

What he does hear is the shuffling of bare feet as she enters the room, dressed in just an old t-shirt of his and a blanket pulled over her shoulders.

“Sunshine! What are you doing awake?”

“You were gone,” she replies. Her eyes are squinting against the light of his screens and her voice sounds groggy. He is hit with an ache in his chest. He woke her up after all.  

“I’m sorry,” he says, “come here.”

He holds out his arms to her and she pads across the room to join him. She settles on his lap, straddling him so they sit face to face. His hands automatically go to her waist to hold her steady. She wraps the ends of her blanket over his shoulders so they can share warmth.

“Why are you up?” She asks.

“I couldn’t sleep. I thought I’d work until my mind shut off; you know?” He phrases it like a joke, but she knows there is truth under it. She knows it better than anyone. On nights where he does manage to quickly fall asleep, she tells him that he mutters incoherent sentences under his breath and can't lie still.

“Hmm,” she stifles a yawn, “what are you working on?”

“Security stuff, mostly,” he wants to explain it further, but with her so close, he finds his mind wandering from his work. He thinks instead about the warmth of her body so close to his, the way her fingers are absentmindedly tracing little shapes across his upper back over where she’s holding the blanket. How a few weeks ago it was difficult to hold each other’s hands and now they can be this close again. How he wants to be closer. 

She must notice something shift in his expression (she always does) because instead of pushing for him to explain further as she usually would, she dips her head down to press a kiss to the base of his neck. He shivers, despite the warmth.

He can’t for the life of him imagine why he ever got out of bed. She continues to press soft kisses to his neck, and his hands move from her waist to her bare thighs.

Breath warm against his skin, she says, “maybe you can continue that tomorrow, what do you think? You can explain everything to me when I’m awake enough to understand it.”

He hums shortly, not trusting his voice with much else. All he knows is that he doesn’t want her to go back to bed without him. He moves to stand up from his chair, and her legs wrap around his torso.

Together, they return to bed.

[bella-caecilia]

#10 for Corbet please:)

After an actual year, I'm finally answering your ask, anon. Thanks for your patience <3 (and to the other Colour symbol prompts sitting in my inbox, I see you. I'm just slow)

#10 - Green – Health, Safety, Harmony

1896

She breathed a sigh of contentment. On the wide bench, they only took up a fraction of the space. Cora had opted to scoot even closer than usual and disregard custom completely. She felt Robert’s warm body pressed to her side and it was the cause for the complete relaxation that enveloped her.

It was late spring and the ideal weather for one of their extended morning walks. Cora was filled with a sense of joviality. After a long while, she finally felt healthy and strong again. The long walk over the greening estate posed no obstacle for her anymore after she had been so constricted and weak for so many months. The pregnancy with Sybil hadn’t been quite so easy on her body as the two before, where her youth had probably helped her compensate for the extreme conditions her body was put through. And then the strugglesome birth followed, and with a healthy bundle of joy in the house that Sybil was, Cora fell into a series of illness-ridden weeks and months. Struggling to find foot again in a world of the living and healthy, Cora was tied to the bed and began fearing that this – being a regular on the doctor’s schedule and never seeing her daughters but for a few minutes when they reverently paid her a visit in her sickroom – would be her future.

Today, this thought seemed to be so far it felt like another lifetime, and still, there wasn’t a day where she didn’t think how different her life could be if she was a little less lucky.

She put her palm on Robert’s elbow joint and took a deep breath. Oh, she was so lucky! She turned her head to the side and took in Robert’s profile. He was a handsome man with his strong jaw, the straight nose, and kind eyes. His dark-green felted hat threw a sharp shadow on his forehead, and Cora strained her eyes to make out his expression.

Robert felt her attention and looked at her, too. He put his warm hand over hers in the crook of his arm and his look was soft.

“It is a nice day,” he stated.

“Yes. Indeed.”

“Do you want to continue our walk?” he asked. “I got lost in my thoughts, I’m afraid. We sat here for a while already.”

“It is absolutely all right. I do not mind the rest.” Cora leaned her head against his shoulder. Only cautiously, for their hats didn’t allow the tight embraces that Cora preferred for moments in private.

Robert kept his straight and strong posture. He took a few seconds before he answered. “It was too much, too straining,” his voice was grave. “I should have known it. You should have said something, Cora.”

“No!” she made clear before she lifted her head again. With wide eyes, she looked at him piercingly. He had to believe her. “It was not too much at all. I am very happy we took the longer route today. I missed it.”

Robert’s look was sceptical still. There was an expression of worry etched across his face. Only a faint smile ran over his face when she said that she had missed it.

“Robert, you have to believe that I am not sick anymore. The doctor told you so, and I tell you, too. I am fine. I am healthy and don’t need to be treated differently or spared anything.” She took his hands. They were so warm and strong. And for the first time in a long, hers were warm too. And maybe strong. She smiled. Squeezing his hands, she added, “Let us be happy. Everything is alright again.”

He returned her smile. Not taking his eyes off her, he rubbed her hands and seemed to enjoy just looking at her so close in front of him. They were happy. Cora could clearly see it in Robert’s eyes. The way he held her hands, Cora felt completely safe after living in unspoken fear – the thought of an uncertain future ever-present – for the last half year. His touch grounded her. It was not primarily that she felt his hand in hers. His touch was not the concerned brush over her perspiring brow anymore; it was not the cautious and so ginger grip around her fingers she could barely lift herself. She felt a confidence in his touch now, a certain trust in her strength. At the same time, it told her, he was there for her and he also acknowledged her sanguine state.

A light breeze brushed around them as one. Sitting so close, the wind didn’t distinguish them as two people. Cora held onto Robert’s hands and looked around them. The plants were in bloom and were all painted in the lushest greens. Spring was her favourite season for a reason. She liked how everything was so fresh in spring and that in spring, it felt like everything was possible. She liked the lavish splendour of English nature. If it was up to her, she wouldn’t let Robert go after their morning walks, especially during these beautiful spring days. She would stay outside in the green with him all day. And if she was at it, she’d also take the girls with her. This thought brought her the greatest joy. One day, she should do it. Though, she always postponed it when she remembered the resistance she would face. Brushing these thoughts away, she took a deep inhale (or as deep as her corsetry allowed) of the nectary air that came from the cherry trees nearby. She only realised she was grinning widely, exposing her teeth, when Robert’s soft voice broke the serene silence.

“Are you enjoying it?”

She nodded. “Yes. I knew why I married an Englishman with a beautiful estate.” A cherry blossom landed on the brim of Robert’s hat. The pale pink on the moss green felt caught Cora’s eye. She extricated one hand from Robert’s grip and reached up to his hat to carefully take the blossom.

“So, it was not the title after all,” Robert said.

Cora tipped her head to the side to give him a look of mock annoyance but all she managed was an adoring glare. Now, they were able to joke about what made their first year so rocky, and that was what made Cora happiest about the short exchange. Their love and harmony were such a matter of course that there was no room for doubt. Not between them. And not for anyone looking upon their marriage. Lord and Lady Downton, Robert and Cora, were an enamoured couple, and everyone knew it.

They could easily joke about their unconventional start. “It was only about the estate,” Cora looked into the blooming trees behind her as she finally tore her eyes from her husband. “I could not have cared less about who Lord Downton was,” she teased. It was far from the truth.

“Oh, really?” His tone held little credulity.

“I didn’t even know whether he was blonde or bald when I agreed to marry him,” Cora continued the non-sensical farce she made up.

“I believe you were in for quite the shock then, when you had to walk down the aisle.” Robert played along. Cora had to hold in a grin as she happily noticed him humouring her. Her eyes were still directed at a faraway point opposite from him. Her hand lay loosely in his palm as she feigned to leisurely muster the rose garden with no interest in her conversation partner.

“Oh, I didn’t expect him to be a dodderer but marrying an old man is all right if he has such nice rose gardens and orchards to offer.”

“Cora, I’m three years older!” He eventually lost his countenance.

She turned to him laughingly. His upset face amused her. Of course, he was no old man at all. He had the appearance of a young boy much more often, in fact.

Just when she was about to put in an appeasing word, she saw Nanny coming down the gravel path behind Robert. Apparently, she was using the nice weather to take Sybil on a walk. The white pushchair attracted all of Cora’s attention, and she forgot everything they were talking about as it rolled toward them. Her little Sybil.

Robert noticed Cora’s attention and look wandering off and turned around to see what was occupying her.

When the nanny was approaching them, she was slowing down a bit and smiled unsurely at her employers. She seemed unsure whether she had to interrupt her walk with the little girl in the pushchair. Cora didn’t leave her wondering long.

“Nanny Evans. How is our little Sybil doing?”

She pulled her hands into her lap and ignored the fact that she was still sitting too close to her husband.

The nanny halted next to the bench and answered dutifully, “She is doing very well, milady. She’s a real sunshine today again. But she always is.”

Cora smiled. She really was. Her little Sybil was such a joy.

“Are we interfering severely with your walk, Nanny?” Cora asked.

“Of course not, milady.”

“I wouldn’t want to disturb your schedule, but I would love to have a little time with her.” Cora craned her neck to glance into the pushchair, without success.

“Very well, my lady,” Nanny said but she didn’t seem to know what to do with Cora’s wish. Eventually, she steered the pushchair onto the lawn and in front of the bench. Then, she awkwardly waited next to the baby for what would happen.

“Could you leave her with us? We would bring her back inside in a few minutes,” Cora clarified.

Nanny Evans bowed her head and retreated to the path. “My lady. My lord.”

As the nanny walked back to the house, Cora stood up and approached the white pushchair. Euphoric joy rushed through her veins. To have her little girl so close and to herself for once. The soft cooing coming from the pushchair put her in even more anticipation and it gave her breasts a light tweak. But she was no wetnurse. She knew it, just her body didn’t.

Once she bent over the sheltered basket, the familiar big blue eyes stared up at her with so much curiosity and serenity. Cora’s face broke into a big smile. Sybil had her little fist in her mouth and didn’t let herself be bothered but continued gnawing at her own hand. Cora remembered that the nanny mentioned yesterday that Sybil might be teething.

“Hello, my little angel. Hm, baby girl? Did Mama nip more ‘Sybil time’?” she cooed at her baby. With big eyes, Sybil looked up at her without blinking, and Cora saw the green treetops reflecting in Sybil’s eyes. “Come here, my dear,” she breathed as she picked her up. She sat back down next to Robert, with Sybil on her lap.

“You are very forward,” he mentioned, referring to the exchange with the nanny.

She ignored him and brushed over Sybil’s dark shock of hair with one hand. The other held the soft baby belly close to her own body.

“Your Papa is also very happy to have you with us now,” she said down to Sybil.

“Yes. I am,” he insisted to make Cora believe him. She looked up and smiled at Robert. Then, she extended her free hand and he took it. “I am,” he repeated in a softer tone and his eyes got lost in Sybil’s curious stare. Cautiously, he put the index finger of his other hand forward and nudged the chubby fist of Sybil that wasn’t buried in her cheek. After a while, the little girl opened her fist and grabbed her father’s finger with determination. Her cooing sounds bubbled past her drool-covered hand and grew into more pointed articulations directed at Robert. She started rocking in Cora’s lap as if she tried to bob closer to Robert.

Robert’s placid expression turned into one of confusion. He looked up at Cora questioningly. “What does she mean? What does she want?”

Cora chuckled. “She is happy to see you.”

Robert didn’t seem to be convinced by her answer. “She could just smile then, couldn’t she?”

“You sound just like your mother or Rosamund,” Cora noticed. “She is happy, Robert. I don’t only smile either when I am happy to see. There is nothing wrong with being expressive.”

Robert looked at Cora as he considered her words. He mustered her face and got a thoughtful expression before Cora saw realisation dawn on his face. He smiled.

“No, there is nothing wrong with it.” He pulled his hand out of her grip and brushed his knuckle over her cheek.

“Now you hold her.”

Her demand seemed to come rather unexpectedly for him. He looked surprised. “Why? You two look quite nice.”

“Come on. You would make her even happier.”

“Maybe I would make you happier,” he remarked.  

She only looked at him challengingly and nearly immediately saw him yield.

He seemed a little apprehensive when Cora transferred the baby onto his lap, but he did quite well. After all, it wasn’t the first time he held a baby. Cora realised it wasn’t such a regular occasion either, though.

Robert and Sybil quickly warmed up to the new situation. It turned out to not only be Cora’s fault they were getting back to the house late.

...

if you want to send another prompt, here is the prompt list: Colour symbol prompts

[imabillyami]

if you get this, answer w/ three random facts about yourself and send it to the last five blogs in your notifs. anon or not, doesn’t matter, let’s get to know the person behind the blog! <3

We're good friends, so you already know most things about me, but I'll still give it a try lol. Previous versions of this here (dark but hopeful version) & here (fun version).

Thanks for sending this, babe 💙 Love you!

--//--//--//--//--//--

(1) I was in NYC the day the US Supreme Court ruled same-sex marriage a right in all 50 states back in 2015.

My lovely friend from Finland and I had originally scraped together our hard-earned money and traveled overseas to go see a bunch of musicals on Broadway (which in itself had been a lifelong dream of mine) and oh boy we did! Let me tell you: Hedwig and the Angry Inch at the Belasco Theatre was wild that night! A once in a lifetime experience.

We'd also planned to attend NYC Pride on the weekend. Y'know stand on the sidelines and watch the parade. Somehow we ended up IN the actual parade thanks to some acquaintances we made during our stay.

So what we got was a once in a lifetime New York City experience that neither of us could've ever dreamed of. The happiest and best 4-day-party of our lives! (Plus we met Sir Ian McKellen that weekend by accident and that was just the cherry on top of things.)

Oops that got longer than intended, so here's two quick ones:

(2) I majored in sociology and political science. My specialization was empirical statistics and big data. I suck at all other fields of math though.

(3) My entire wardrobe pretty much consists of only black t-shirts (with and without print), black hoodies and jeans.

Not having to pick out an outfit beyond deciding between black jeans and blue jeans every day makes things significantly easier for me. I do own a handful of other pieces (e.g. a black lace jumpsuit that is my absolute fav), but I only wear those on very rare special occasions.

--//--//--//--//--//--

Bonus: I once traveled to the south of France with friends & a bag packed for 4 days (we went to a popular french theater festival). My friends went home after 4 days. But I loved it so much that I couldn't bear leaving, so I ended up traveling all over France for a total of 4 weeks instead. (Bless the job that allowed working remote & the plentiful laundromats lol.)

[open--till--midnight]

Ok hear me out, Eskel x reader who is just very... ordinary.

She has a good knowledge of herbs and medicines and patching people up, that’s about it besides a hobby of storytelling and singing little tunes she hears from traveling bards.

Maybe Eskel comes across said reader (however you want) and is drawn in by her for no particular reason he can place. Maybe after a couple encounters after rough contracts, each time ending with her fixing him up and letting him rest in her home till he can leave, he asks her to come with him on the road. Eskel of course being the man he is, would say that it was for healing purposes and a Witcher could always use a medic. But he really just liked the the comfort of readers presence.

-🌲🌾anon

Lessons in Hospitality

eskel x gn!reader

summary | after catching a glimpse of a mysterious witcher, you are captivated. and after a couple encounters, this witcher is ready to take you with him.

cw | drinking until drunk, not proof read

wc | 3100

a/n | so this ask is very similar to my Love Letters series, so if you like this, you'd probably love that, because of this, I deviated from this ask a little bit, but not by much. also, reader is shorter than Eskel, but I don't say by how much

also, i am so sorry for not getting this done sooner, like this ask was from august. but i also have to thank you for getting my creative juices flowing again *muah*

***

You cursed yourself as boiling water splashed your fingers, nearly causing you to drop the pot you were trying to move off of the fire. No matter though, you found temporary relief by dunking your fingertips into your wash basin nearby. And disregarding your scalded tips, the soup would still turn out fine. 

You kept the leftovers hanging over the fire after you ate your fill. Inevitably, you always made too much. Maybe the growing loneliness of your home was getting to you. If one could call it loneliness. On either side of your walls was the endless racket of your careless neighbors. And in front of your home, busy streets and at the back rested ancient woods. You felt a pull towards the trees, wanting the grass at your feet as opposed to the ceaseless mud of the town streets.

In the morning, your day began with a buttered slice of bread while hurrying to dress. The town square was already full of the two dozen children that lived there. A few were missing, but they were bound to show up. They looked forward to Monday mornings as much as you did. With no schoolhouse or teachers, you took up the responsibility of instilling in these children a love of learning and fueling the fires of their curiosity. 

You started by sitting on the edge of the dried-up fountain and began asking the children about their past week. When the usual speakers finished you encouraged some of the quieter ones to speak up. Which they did, they always did what you asked of them. 

When the sun was at its peak in the sky a stranger walked past with twin swords strapped to his back. The children, of course, could not hide their staring. You gazed at the man through lowered lashes, hoping to conceal your immediate fascination with him. But you snapped back when he disappeared through the butcher’s shop doors.

The children’s excitement erupted instantly in the form of questions and enthusiastic statements. Like ‘who was that?’ and ‘did you see his swords?’. Your little town hadn’t seen a witcher in decades, definitely not in your lifetime. But you’d heard the stories and the songs. After you told the children about the job of witchers, they, of course, requested a story. 

Your story took the form of a ballad you’d heard years ago by a traveling bard, the name of which you had long forgotten. 

That night, while you lay facing the ceiling, you contemplated the stranger from earlier. Those swords, those scars, there was no doubt he was a witcher. You wondered what could bring a witcher to your town. You hadn’t heard of anything that could warrant hiring a witcher. Everyone knew there were creatures in the woods, but they’d never caused issues. Perhaps he was just passing through. A small, dark part of your mind hoped he was here for a job, that he would stay just one more day.

His face was at the front of your mind as you fell asleep and it was the first thing you thought of when you woke.

The day ahead of you would consist of running errands for the townsfolk. With no real job you picked up what you could. This was easy since your neighbors appreciated all you did for their children. 

The herbalist needed a root that could only be found in the woods and she was willing to pay good money for you to retrieve a basket of them for her. You knew those woods well, so you agreed.

As you passed the first line of trees you began to feel foolish. A witcher had just graced the town with his presence and what were you doing but leaving town and entering the most dangerous place you could. But maybe that’s why you did it. Your curiosity had put you in danger before, and now you were willingly walking into monster-infested woods for a bit of gold.

The wind whistled through the thick patches of trees. You knew where the roots were and you took no time to get there. The longer you spent in the woods, the more uneasy you became. But the roots were only feet away, so you laid down your basket and got to work, hoping to leave the woods as soon as you could.

As you pulled the last root, you caught the overwhelming feeling of eyes watching you. And the woods around you grew silent, unmoving save the few branches swaying with the wind. A growing fear settled in your gut as you rose and surveyed the area. 

From behind a tree, a witcher crouched, his hand ready to draw either silver or steel. But when he looked out his hand dropped to his side and he stood. 

“You know what manner of creature lives in this forest, don’t you?”

You almost tripped as you spun around to face the stranger who was now leaning against a tree. It was the man from the day before, the witcher. Any fear you felt fled the moment you saw his face.

“I’m afraid not. I mean, I’ve heard stories. We all know there are monsters here. I saw you yesterday, going into the butchers. Is that why you’re here? Did he hire you?”

“Yes.” The witcher’s lip quirked up as his eyes shot down. He, too, had seen you the day before. You had struck him with a curiosity that he hadn’t felt since his youth. 

“Not much of a talker, are you?” 

“How would you know that?”

“Am I wrong?”

The witcher responded with a smile. And when he didn’t speak, you gave him your name. 

He gestured to his chest, “Eskel. And as much as I’d like to continue this chat, I am hunting and you are not only in the way but also in danger. Will you let me walk you home?” 

You grinned at him, “Yes.”

He wasn’t used to being so willing to spend more time than needed with someone, but he felt a sense of obligation to keep you safe. Not that you were a burden, quite the opposite, he had been entranced by you and he needed to know why.

The witcher who you now knew was Eskel carried himself differently than most men. His shoulders were slumped, although you could practically taste the tension he held in them. And though he stood taller than you, it did not feel as though he was looking down upon you. He seemed to make himself seem smaller than he was. You did not know it yet, but it was his resounding effort not to scare away the human who had so quickly captivated him.

“So, what exactly are you hunting?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“No, actually. Just trying to make conversation.” 

The rest of the walk was silent. And while this silence comforted you, you wondered if it had the same effect on Eskel. By the hint of a smile you could see from his side, you assumed it did. 

When Eskel brought you to your door you asked, “Would you like to come inside for a while?”

“Maybe another day, I’ve got a job to do.”

“Well, if you ever need anything, you know where to find me.” 

He shot you another breathtaking grin and turned away. Eskel was thrilled that he’d had a successful interaction with someone so enchanting. But he left you wishing that you had insisted on his stay. He was probably staying at the only inn the town had, you wouldn’t wish your worst enemy there. The pub and its patrons made just about the worst environment one could imagine. You couldn’t let him stay there. He was risking his life to make your town safer, the least you could do was offer him a soft cot and a warm fire. But when you stepped out of your door to call out for Eskel, he was gone.

So at sundown, you went to the pub that housed the inn. And you waited, sitting in a corner, nursing your ale. The hours passed and still no sign of the witcher. You had even asked around, no one had seen him. So you waited still. 

You couldn't count the number of drinks you'd had. But even when your vision doubled, you ordered another. You stayed planted in your seat despite the patrons' many attempts to get you out of it. The reasons for which you didn’t care to ask. 

Another hour passed and the moon was at its peak in the sky, but you wouldn’t notice because you were caught up singing drinking songs with the other patrons. You were rowdy and uncontrollable. You were a prime example of why you avoided this trash pit of a tavern. 

When Eskel stumbled into the tavern, tired and bloodied, your eyes immediately found him. 

“It’s you!” You slid off your chair and neared him, “I’ve been waiting for you for so long. Have a drink with me!”

Eskel saw the way the men at your table were staring at you. He saw nothing but trouble.

“I don’t think so.” He eyed a particularly decrepit looking man who had begun to look agitated. “Why don’t I walk you home?”

“But I’m not done having fun.”

“You said you were waiting for me? Well here I am. Come on.”

When Eskel got you outside he hoisted you up onto his horse and started to lead it. 

“Why aren’t you sitting up here?” 

“Look at me, I’m covered in monster guts.”

“Clothes can be washed, come on.”

Once he had mounted, he wrapped his arms around you to steady you as he held onto the reins. 

“Why were you gone so long?”

“Monster hunting isn’t so easy.”

“Really! Who would have thought?”

“Hush now.”

“Why did you say you were waiting for me? How did you know I would be there?”

“Easy, there are no other inns in town. As for why… That place is shitty.” You could feel Eskel’s laugh on your back and your face dropped. “I’m serious. You’re saving lives and you have to stay there? That’s terrible.”

He laughed again, not the reaction you had expected. “I’m afraid that is normal.”

“It shouldn’t be.” You mumbled before you fell silent. When you slumped against Eskel’s chest, he knew you were asleep only a couple of minutes before your house. 

As much as he didn’t want to disturb you, he ran his hand down your arm and spoke quietly to wake you up. He helped you off his horse and started to mount once more.

“Wait!” You realized you’d never actually asked him to stay at your home. But you found yourself suddenly dizzy. Before you could fall, Eskel had already reached your side. “Thank you. Now. You can stay here if you’d like. I mean my sofa is probably much comfier than whatever they’re calling beds over at the inn.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.” You giggled.

When you woke the next morning, the witcher was gone. What he left was a note that read:

I’m sorry to leave so early, but the jobs need done and I couldn’t stay behind too long. 

I thank you for your hospitality, I hope this coin is payment enough.

Eskel

Beside the note was far too much coin for your simple act of kindness. But you planned on seeing the witcher again. So the coin along with the note went into a jar you placed by the door.

Not a night passed that you didn’t think of Eskel. Those golden eyes just beneath his furrowed brow. A jawline that could kill and his oh so kissable lips. And of course his most interesting feature being those scars that lined the side of his face, sexy in their own way. The way they tugged at his upper lip. The image of him never left your mind. 

Of course the rugged man, so rough and tough on the outside, but gentle enough to wake you up without startling you. The way he risks his own life to save others. He had this way about him that just outright captivated you.You were determined to see him again.

And every night, while laying on the cold hard earth, Eskel thought of you. Your humble sweetness. The way you so willingly offered a witcher a spot in your home. All because you thought it was unfair for him to stay at a run down inn. Something so simple, yet it meant the world to him.

He pictured your face and the way it lit up when you saw him walk through the tavern doors. The way your body fit perfectly in front of his kept his imagination running wild. He felt like a teenage boy again, only now he had the freedom to pursue his interests.

You longed for his return, though you knew it was unlikely. While you hummed in the kitchen, wiping off a wet pan, you heard a powerful knock on your door. Uncertainty grew in you. Your home had few visitors, and at the late hour it was, this was highly unusual. 

Against what you thought was your better judgment, you opened the door. It revealed a witcher, doubled over with a hand in the air, falling away as the door fell open fully. 

“Eskel!”

He was covered in blood, but you couldn’t tell where it was coming from. He clutched his stomach with one hand and kept the other firmly planted on the ground. 

You kneeled down and removed his hand from his stomach, now seeing the massive wound. If he wasn’t a witcher he would surely be dead. He went along with your motions to get him inside. You didn’t want him to be laying on the floor, but it was the only place the two of you were able to make work. 

Despite your attempts to stop him, he sat up halfway and started to dig through his bag. After digging around, he pulled out a vial and downed its contents. Only then did he lay down, eyes fluttering closed in defeat. 

You worked hard and fast to stop the bleeding, and even when it did you couldn’t tell whether it was because of your work or if he was just healing that quickly. You didn’t even know if your efforts were worth anything.

Once you were done it was a waiting game. You paced the length of your home. The screams of your left side neighbors could be heard, of course they would choose now to have a go at each other. You covered your ears with your hands and kneeled on the floor beside the unconscious Eskel. 

When he still hadn’t woken by midnight, you headed to bed, having nothing but the hope that he would be there when you woke.

Your hands were shaking when you were getting dressed the next morning. And you barely had the courage to go downstairs and face what may or may not even be there. 

To your surprise, he was there. He was kneeling, scrubbing the blood out of your floorboards.

“You don’t have to do that, you know?”

“It’s the least I could do.”

“I could just get a rug.” 

He laughed, causing his muscles to ripple across his torso. When you processed that all he wore were trousers and your bandages, you tensed up.

“How are you feeling? I know that witchers can heal fast, but I guess I don’t know just how fast.”

“I’ll be fine. Just sore, that’s all.” 

“Impressive. Did you manage to kill the beast that did that?”

“Was no beast, just a man. But, yes, he is dead.”

Not knowing how to respond, you offered coffee, which led to several engaging conversations. Half the day had already passed yet neither of you cared for the lost time. 

“I can’t believe you tried to pay me!” You walked over to the jar by the door and slammed it down on the table in front of Eskel. “Can you not accept a bit of kindness?”

“I know the price of kindness toward a witcher. You deserve it.”

“Well I want you to take it back, please.”

Of course, he refused. That is, until he drew back and accepted the coin back.

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

After dinner, and a few ales, you set him up on the couch and headed to bed. Both minds plagued with thoughts of the other. Neither able to quiet them.

And when you woke in the morning, he disappeared, once again. 

In the jar by the door there were now more coins than before. And the top corner of a note was tucked under the jar. 

I’m sorry.

That was all it said. The truth was that the witcher had no idea how to say goodbye to you. He ran through it in his mind countless times. But how could he leave one like you? He couldn’t, was the simple answer.

You cried that night, though you didn’t really know why. The witcher put a spell on you and you swore you were cursed. 

You had seen Eskel one more time after that. Not dissimilar to the way he showed up at your doorstep, kneeling and bloodied. After you patched up some minor wounds a night of comradery ensued. 

It was now a year since that night. You were in the forest looking for plants to show the town’s children. It was starting to get dark, so you decided to head back home. That was until you found Eskel. 

He was leaning against a tree, pulling what looked like a tooth out of his shoulder.

“Need any help with that?” 

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all.” You carefully started working at the fang, trying to keep calm. That’s when you looked up to see him smirking at you. “I’m starting to think you like playing the role of damsel in distress, Eskel.”

“Well, I keep getting saved by this knight in shining armor, why wouldn’t I like it?”

You let out an uncharacteristic giggle before fully unlodging the tooth from his shoulder.

You walked with him while he collected his reward and then led him back to your house where you made dinner and fell back into your routine of staying up until the early hours of the morning while talking about anything and everything.

“Come with me.”

“What?”

“Join me on the path this year.”

“Eskel…”

“You can patch me up, keep me healthy. It’ll pay well.”

“I don’t know how well I’d be able to do that. I do my best with you, but I know next to nothing about healing or medicine. And besides, I would probably just get in the way.”

“I guarantee you will not get in the way. I enjoy your company.”

You said yes, of course.

***

ending authors note | i don't know how much writing i'm going to get done in the near future, but if you want to be on a taglist, go to the link on my pinned post :)