#he was like ‘oh haha she probably sucks. She was already on thin ice for being a woman’

[wewontbesleeping]

it is so fucking annoying when men are “ironically” misogynist. like what’s the joke here? how is just smiling when saying you hate women a joke? and then I’m the killjoy for not laughing at it ofc.

[bropunzeling]

For the director’s cut, literally any part of keep a close eye. Because Sasha 😍

ooh ty :) i'll do a bit from near the beginning:

Sasha’s already had to be in too many rooms this year. Five in ten games, and two to start the season at that. It isn’t the kind of tally he wants to be keeping. [it's always interesting to write a fic set early in a season then see how everyone is doing now haha like, oh they're fine] Technically an A could stand in for him, take his place, but Aaron is out, and Matthew—

Sasha can do it. Matthew does so much for them on the ice. Sasha can watch out for the boys in here. He won’t lay this at Matthew’s feet. [something that i did not have space to fully unpack but loved to hint at was like, in this premise where someone has to observe the winner's room, sasha has been doing this by himself for basically a whole season? i think initially it's like, you know, aaron was out for a while, hornquist was out for the year relatively fast, and it would take a while to trust the new guy with This (even if like. they were kind of in love from the start lmao). so sasha's seen a lot of weird handjobs and blowjobs! it would wear on a person! and also, even now that he does trust matthew, he still doesn't want to put this on matthew, for reasons of the heart :)]

Five times in ten games, and this is the first time that Matthew’s been tapped this season. There’s no rhyme or reason to it. Sometimes guys have arrangements; sometimes they pick based on who played the best on a losing team; sometimes it’s spite. [one of the fun things about writing a winner's room fic for a same-team-pairing is thinking of all the reasons people who have played the concept a little more straight have thrown guys together] This time—who knows. Seems unlikely it’ll be a grudge. Wrong conference, and everyone kicked Chicago’s ass last year. [rip chicago! sucks to suck!]

Sasha forgot how it felt, though, being in here with Matthew. The way Matthew rubs his hands together as he scans the room, getting out that last bit of energy. [fidgety boy!] The way he goes to sit on the bed pushed up against the wall, rather than stand around in the middle of the room. How his knee bounces as he waits. [this whole fic is obviously themed around observation and what people see versus are not yet ready to see, but i really like this part as a like -- sasha already knows what matthew is like in here. they've had a year of experience, they're really familiar, it's a kind of comfort in a very uncomfortable situation]

For his part, Sasha takes up his habitual spot on the opposite side of the room, where he can lean against the cold, white cinder block wall and have as much of a view as he needs. [again, reinforcing sasha's discomfort and his responsibility to watch through the environment! or at least that's what i was aiming for haha]

Meghan nods at them both, then closes the door.

They wait for a minute, two. Sasha spends those minutes looking around the room, not that he needs to. All winner’s rooms look the same. Same walls, same mats for floors. A bed, a sink and mirror, a small cabinet with CBA-mandated condoms and lube, in case anyone wants to push the time limit and get more creative than a hand or a mouth. A digital clock above the door. [in my beloved pal maggie hopetorun's great great matthew/leon winner's room fic she did an incredible job of describing the physical spaces of the rooms and what would have to be in there; i was probably subliminally influenced by her here lol. but i thought a lot about having a contract mandate how many unexpired condoms you gotta keep on hand.]

There’s never a chair for the captain. Sasha can watch, but he can’t get comfortable. After all, he lost, too. [this just feels like the kind of petty thing this league would do asdkfl]

Now it’s been more than five minutes; getting closer to ten. Longer than usual. Matthew jiggles his knee; folds his hands in his lap; unfolds them and drops them to grab at the cheap, thin sheets that cover a cheap, thin mattress. [again: fidgety boy! but also i just like the repetition of "cheap, thin" here] The bed makes crinkling plastic sounds as Matthew shifts; the mattress protector is cheap, too. The only thing not making noise is Matthew’s mouth. Matthew talks a lot, but it’s different when they’re in here. No point in rehashing the game, no point in strategizing about what they’ll do when they play Columbus, no point in cracking jokes or making easy conversation. [one of the interesting points of like, winner's room fic generally and matthew characterization specifically is like, how would you feel during the anticipatory moments, you know? and it's like (a) matthew doesn't want to talk before the weird sex ritual but also (b) he's comfortable enough with sasha that he doesn't have to chatter away his mild nerves (i'd imagine that you'd never really get over having to do the weird sex ritual no matter how long you've been doing it, if im honest!)]

No point in Sasha saying anything, either. Matthew doesn’t need any reassurances, and Sasha doesn’t know if he would want them. [i mean, he doesn't need them, but he would probably appreciate them coming from you, my guy!]

At eight minutes of waiting, Matthew shifts again. The noise draws Sasha’s eye, and he finds himself making eye contact. Watching as Matthew swallows; as his mouth opens, like he’s going to say something. [i like this moment to serve as reinforcement: matthew fidgeting, sasha watching him, and then the way it functions as a mirror to the eye contact at the end of this particular sex scene -- here, the glance is more like, casually observational and not so fraught, whereas by the end of the scene it packs an emotional punch] [related, but one of the things im proudest of with this fic is like, having such a charged moment (sexually, emotionally) where the two people who are into each other aren't touching each other -- and the vibe is different than, say, a "make someone jealous" premise where presumably the other party is into it, you know? anyway, that was just a really fun thing to play with!]

There’s the noise of someone else punching in the code, of the door swinging open. But Sasha isn’t watching the door, even though he should. [writing sasha for the first time was a little intimidating. i think i landed on a lot of like, sasha having an idea of what he should do (as a captain, leader, friend, guy meant to keep matthew safe in a weird situation, etc.) and the ways in which matthew makes it hard for him to stick to the known contours of his life] Sasha’s watching Matthew, and—

He’s never been sure how to describe it, the change in Matthew’s face. It’s like Matthew slides into someone else, putting on an expression that’s been kept in a box, only to be worn in the room. [i looooove this lil beat. matthew tkachuk man of many faces! one of my most consistent characterization notes for him, because i find it really really fascinating how he plays with image and posturing! especially in the weird sex ritual context. and, of course, sasha noticing all of those different faces, because sasha watches matthew all of the time :)]

[anxiousdepressedintrovert]

Otome Wednesday (AKA the late af one) Don’t hate me (T_T)

Y’all my weekend was shiitty

I’m not even gonna get into again but let it be known that it was shitty.

I’m gonna post all of LSV tomorrow. 

Anywaay--

The Royal Heir Chapter 10: The one where I really wanna “accidently” shoot he who shall not be named OR A Fox in the Henhouse 

-Ah yes, let’s have a hunt with a fucking toddler around

-Bitch, call me a outsider again. See what the fuck ima do to your crusty ass

-Thank you Liam.

-Bart, you don’t have respect for customs. And you didn’t even raise your own kids

-Hakim, Landon…thin ice

-Oh the ageism is rampant

-Yeah, The people actually parenting a baby can’t just fucking leave

-idiot

-I would sooner burn Cordonia to the ground than leave her with anyone you’ve “prepared”

-I DON’T TRUST MADELEINE! Why is she always an option! Why isn’t Olivia?

-Queen Mother is the only one I trust, and that’s barely.

-Savannah standing up to Bertrand in the last chapter was a small step in the right direction for her

-Yes, Eleanor, go with Gamma.

-OMG I love this child. I want to play as her more

-At some point we (if you’re Queen) need to officially declare Hana a lady-in-waiting. Cause it’s a huge honor, and she basically already is. Not to mention she gets perks from that as well. (I’m totally not giving away plot point for my story)

-I love this hunting outfit. It’s so cute. And practical. And PANTS. For fucking once.

-Though how boss would it have been if we did, ride, shoot and win the hunt in our ball gown? Baller AF

-Marabelle! I haven’t seen you for like, two books! (It might’ve been sooner but my memory is terrible)

-Hehe, love my awestruck husband

-This not foxhunt sounds boring af. The only part that sounds fun is the bow shooting

-Of course Bart gave us a nose blind dog. Ugh

-At least Chester’s cute

--OMG puppy heaven

-Onward Chester! …in the wrong direction

-Maxwell packed the motherload of jerky

-Ew, Bart.

-But at least we’re on the trail again

-Bart doesn’t deserve Rex

-So naturally, I’m going to mess with him

-Beef jerky distraction

-works every time

-go chester go

-Who’s a good nose blind baby?! It’s Chester!

-Of course Bart goes blaming Rex. Cause nothing is EVER his own fault

-#saverex2020

-suck it Bart

-Oh look, a crow.

-Time to have Bart freak the fuck out

-I’m excited

-Bring on the shenanigans

-Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaa

-This entire scene is gold

-I really wanna know what happened to traumatize him this much

-Haha, he has to forfit!

-Why is the press judging the riding portion of this?

-I’m not mad, I just wanna know

-Cause they’re kinda biased/easily swayed

-Ugh why did he have to come back.

-Why couldn’t he have gotten…idk mauled by a bear or something

-If this asshole says one more thing about tradition. I’m gonna strangle him with my bare hands. Cause that is traditional.

-I do have a soft spot for archery though

-He’s compensating for something

-lack of being a decent human being probably

-Who could have come prepared for a surprise archery shoot?

-Oh finally honorary Beaumont status coming in handy

-Have some diamonds. I wanna show off

-Ah Liam and Drake betting again. If it wasn’t so rare, I’d say they had a problem

-Wooowwww. Maxwell took the bow Bart tried to give us and it didn’t even last nocking the arrow

-Yeah, he better not protest. All that shit he was talking about me being an honorary Beaumont

-Yeah I am Liam, yeah I am

-Hakim, you’re still on thin ice

-Nah, bitch. Won your petty challenge too.

-Oh my baby girl is back!

-I need to know what she got up to while we were gone.

-What playroom for a princess doesn’t have a castle. Lame af

-That’s what I said Liam!

-Oh no! What’s he doing to Todd!

-Leave him alone!

-I don’t wanna hear shit from a man who ran away from raising his sons. And even when he was there, was shit at that.

-Yas Ana, style over all

-Yes! Another chance to show up Bart? Yes please

-She said “How-see” My little angel

-Stealing Bart’s limelight

-Cause I’m petty and an opportunist

-HAHAHAHAHAHA Bart attempts to cradle Todd and Todd said “fuck that” and bit the shit out of him

-Good girl Todd

-BRB sobbing.

-My baby’s meeting her first horse

-Her name is Apple

-Maxwell. HER NAME. IS. APPLE.

-Of course Daddy get’s to take his little girl

-Pfftt Liam called Cordonia citizen’s creatures. Which…ya know. I get

-Ugh, that little Tankyu

-Landon, thin ice. No polo until she’s at least ten

-OHH that CG is so cute!!!! T_T

-I can’t wait to see what the next chapter is gonna be

-Oh nooo not the sad face Ellie!

-Did he just call my baby, the child he’s trying to take, a distraction?

-Yeah. I’m def beatin his ass

-Oh yeah! Master of the Hunt!

-Queen Riley, Duchess of Valtoria, Champion of the Realm, Master of the Hunt, Mother of Corgis

-As I said before.

-I would sooner stab this crusty old man with that knife Olivia gave me in Book 1, than let this man, who couldn’t raise his own kids, parent-shame me. In my own god-damned house. Cause I will air his dirty laundry. And I can do it without mentioning anything about his fake illness.

[aspiratixxn]

Hey Dollface

Summary: The best surprise after a really long, hard day at work. 

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 3086

Notes: For @bucky-smiles​ since they’ve had some hard times lately! It’s me, your Bucky anon haha. I just wanted to be really soft and writing Bucky for you really inspired me! I hope you like it :) 

Tagging: @holy-captain​

It’s a shit day. It’s a really, really shit day.

It all started with a burnt pancake, on Monday of all days. Pancakes are a Monday tradition you picked up from your mom, who always made them sprinkled with different fruits to give you a pick-me-up (because Mondays you know?). And you had never burned a pancake, not even the one you made alone at the tender age of seven.

You’re not the superstitious type, not really, but a burnt pancake spelled out trouble and you knew it. You were quick to toss the thing but not quick enough for the smoke detector. Its shrill shriek pierced the morning calm and you heard a clattering through the thin walls of your (mediocre on a good day) apartment. And you had winced when someone banged on your door, asking if you were okay. Of course, you had to answer them, meekly peeking from behind the door. Although they had taken it gracefully, it had already put a damper on your day, which really only got worse from there.

Cleaning the pancake and clearing the smoke detector debacle took up your morning, which meant you didn’t have breakfast. At all. Not even a grab and go banana. Instead, you went sprinting down and out, nearly running over your two floors down neighbor’s dog and getting a shouted earful about that. And of course it was drizzling, enough that an umbrella wasn’t going to keep you from getting uncomfortably damp. Your sneakers squish as you walk in the building, your co-workers wincing when they see you. Your best friend Wanda fusses over you for just a moment, trying to pat moisture out of your shirt.

“Really (Name), you’re such a mess today. I mean more than usual. Did someone get some,” She glances in both directions and whispers in your ear, “Action last night?”

You sputter, pushing her away gently. “Why would you think that?!” He’s not even home right now so it’s not like you could anyways.

She just giggles. “I’m kidding, kidding! Here.” You take the towel and try to dry your hair. You hate this because now you’re going to look like a puffball. “I made some of my famous soup today! For you and me and Natasha, so you’ll be warmed up before you know it.”

You heave a great sigh and drape yourself over her lap. “Oh Wanda, my love, what would I do without you?”

“Starve? Maybe suffer a soupless life?” You gasp, flinging your arm over your eyes. She just laughs again and pats you on the head before she sneaks back to her desk. You’re grateful she’s willing to suffer the wrath of the boss, who pushes productivity to the max.

You take a pause to check your phone before you move and light up when you see (1) message from Bucky.

BUCKY: Good morning beautiful BUCKY: Just wanted to remind you that you are the bestest, most awesome person in the world and you’re gonna rock your day!

You work a classic office job, the kind in weird half cubicles where the walls are too short to hide anything from anyone. Before you even start working you have to clear away all the sticky notes and remnants from last Friday when you had dragged yourself home after some overtime. When your workspace is adequately cleaned (or at least cleaned enough you aren’t knocking over things when you shift), you get to answering your emails.

Which of course, leads to another bad thing. The client was infuriated with the current status of the project. In his eyes, it should have been done a week and a half ago, when you know full well that this project isn’t going to be done for another week if not two. It’s an intense request that just takes time and you’re already doing your best, putting in the overtime to try and reach his ridiculous goals. Heinrich Zemo really needs someone to knock him down a peg and you might just be the person to do it if you ever meet him in person.

So begins the back and forth emailing between you two, filled to the brim with polite fuck you’s. And since he seems to zing back mail at the speed of light, you can’t even work on anything else you’re supposed to, like the design blueprints for Natasha or the business plan outline for Sam. And they’re shooting you little looks because they kind of need that stuff for the next steps of their own projects. Sympathetic looks but looks just the same. And it makes you burn with frustration because you want to get it done, you want to be productive but you just. Can’t.

In between your phone keeps pinging with messages from Bucky, which is the only reason why you survive this entire frustrating situation.

BUCKY: i love your fashion sense. It’s so chic and sleek and ugh, so perfect for you

BUCKY: can’t wait to dance with you again darling! Hope you’re ready to try some tango this time ;)

BUCKY: do you want s’mores pie or banana cream? i’m thinking s’mores because y’know, chocolate. marshmallows. what’s not to love?

BUCKY: next date at the flower garden? we can have a picnic!

BUCKY: holy shit I am so ready for blueberry season again. I know it’s a while away but ugh, I really want some right now :(

BUCKY: you got this babe! I believe in you!

BUCKY: do you want to get Chinese or Italian when I see you again? I’m feeling a strong Chinese vibe. YOU: Chinese BUCKY: that’s my girl

The morning is a blur of pent up anger that ends with you squishing the ever loving shit out of a pumpkin plush, a desk leftover from Halloween. You’re half surprised the thing doesn’t pop under the pressure but you feel bad, placing it back down and patting it. Finally Zemo shuts up and you’re left with fifteen minutes before lunch, which really isn’t time to start anything for work. Instead, you bring out your white bound planner, a bullet journal you’ve been steadily working on, and start to build the next month. End of the month means needing to prep all the pages for February, and you sigh as you stare lovingly at your collection of pens just for this. They’re all absolutely lovely, shades that you adore and a quality that can’t be beat. You mill briefly, deciding between a pastel and a hard pink. The pastel wins out of course and you smooth out the page, already covered in neat pen lines from last night. You begin to fill in banners and hearts and…

Just your goddamn luck your pen starts to fizzle out. Which really sucks because these puppies are not cheap in the slightest. You growl and thunk your head on the desk, making Sam snicker.

“Not your day?”

“Not now Wilson.”

“Aw, c’mon. I’m pretty sure there’s something good in your horoscope for today.” He’s teasing you now for sure. He’s not even into horoscopes, not even as a joke. You turn your head enough to give him your darkest stink eye, which just makes him grin wider. He pats your shoulder and slides over some chocolates, dark like you like it. You huff and your hands come up to open the blue foil, fumbling a bit before popping it in your mouth.

Your phone pings and you glance at it with dull eyes. Sam can visibly see them getting their spark back though and he can guess who’s messaged.

(1) message from Bucky

BUCKY: hey sweetheart, just wanted to tell you that you’re my favorite girl and it’s lunch time! I made myself a sandwich today, look! BUCKY: (1 photo attached)

YOU: why’s it so full? it’s practically bursting! YOU: if you take a bite you’re gonna spill everything out of the bread

BUCKY: hey! rude! >:( BUCKY: I’ll have you know I am a sandwich expert and it will not spill everywhere

YOU: sure it won’t babe ;)

BUCKY: >:T

“(Name)!!” Wanda comes bursting back in, holding up a thermos for you to see. It does brighten up your day, especially when Natasha pops up right after with a box of sandwiches from the best deli on the block. She even got you extra fries. God your friends are so good.

At least lunch passes without any scruples. You don’t spill any of Wanda’s spicy and absolutely delicious soup and you don’t drip any mayo on your blouse from the sandwich. There’s a close call with some ketchup for the fries but it lands next to your leg instead of on it.

“Absolutely not. How dare you even assume Eliza has a chance?” Natasha jabs a fry in your direction.

“Well it’s better than Martha! Did you see her bedroom eyes at him? And he just straight up ignored her!” Wanda throws her hands up in frustration. “Honestly, does this guy even like any of the contestants? It’s like he has the stiffest face in the world.”

You shrug, thoughtfully munching for a moment. “I just think Eliza’s nice y’know? She’s sweet and she’s not pushy, which I mean. It’s probably not great for ratings but Nick hasn’t eliminated her yet so that has to count for something right?”

“Nuh-uh! Angelica’s a favorite here. Did you see how he was laughing on their fake date? I can tell flirting when I see it. And she’s a real firecracker type, which means she’s definitely there to spice up his life if you know what I mean~” Natasha wiggles her eyebrows and you snort, nearly choking on your ice tea.

“Y’all are crazy! It’s definitely gotta be Delanie! Cute, small, hips fit real well.” Sam runs his hands in the same, also wiggling his eyebrows. “And did you see how he was watching her when she was talking about her family? How she wanted a cute little wedding like her parents? That’s a catch.”

You sigh and put your head in your hands. “It’s so artificial though. Like I know all this is scripted and framed and stuff so like, what does it matter? I’d want something real.”

“You sound really dreamy there (name). Got some embarrassing sappy things you want to say to us?” Wanda has her face pressed up to yours and you blush, pushing her away again. Wanda’s really dangerous like that, able to sniff out feelings and stories just like that.

“No! Shut your smug little faces.” All three have taken on that look that you know oh so well. You shovel another few fries in your face and then shut the empty container. Around a mouthful of the dry potatoes, you mumble, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some outlines and blueprints to work on.”

How is this day not already over? Honestly it feels like it’s been an eternity.

Your phone pings with a message. Steve, inviting you to a Monday movie night. Since movies are cheap as hell, Steve likes to visit the theaters often and see what the new thing is. Not surprising given his theatrical/acting/film study obsession.

STEVE: Movie night?

YOU: what movie?

STEVE: Cats (2019) STEVE: I know, I know I just really want to see it. It’s so interesting, the CGI work!

YOU: i dont really want to pay money to see that though YOU: like its YOU: so weird YOU: and like not YOU: i dunno i just don’t really want to see it

STEVE: :( STEVE: C’mon, it’ll be fun! We’ll get caramel corn.

YOU: ooooh tempting me YOU: but no i think imma go home and like wine night it YOU: its been a long day :/

STEVE: Ouch. Well it’s the same place as usual, 6 PM if you wanna come.

YOU: probs not but thanks anyways

STEVE: :)

You plug in your headphones and scroll through your music, settling for some chilled out tunes to slowly progress through the dense documents you have to read before you can properly plan out Sam’s thing. It sucks because you can already feel a headache starting to bud and you have to stop periodically to press on your eyes. You also frequently get up to get water, which means you’re also going to the bathroom a lot and today’s productivity has just slam dunked down the drain. To compensate for not doing literally any work in the morning (gee, thanks Zemo), you put in some overtime hours, which means you’re definitely movie night. You don’t even leave the office until your eyes are burning with the strain of staring at a screen for seven or so hours. You stumble out and rub your eyes, yawning and stretching, trying to get some of the tension out of your shoulders.

(1) message from Bucky

BUCKY: have you been at work this whole time? Damn girl BUCKY: the grind never stops💪

YOU: i wish it did YOU: ugh i’m so tired :(

BUCKY: well you’re almost home right? BUCKY: im sure there’s something good waiting for you at home BUCKY: like dinner! what are you thinking today?

You don’t even know what you’re going to do for dinner, but you’ll deal with that when you get home. At worst you have some cheap instant noodle thing that you can spice up with some eggs. It’s still dreary out and it feels like rain in your skin so you almost sprint home, sticking to the well-lit areas because you are not in the mood to punch a mugger in the nose.

You stop by the corner store though and buy yourself two bottles of wine. You buy something that’s nice, indulging a little. Or you try to anyways, when you discover you left your ID at home. You groan in frustration and instead grab some peach-mango juice and a bag of BBQ chips, hovering momentarily over the big blocks of cheese. You really could just use one to bite into, but you refrain, knowing you have shredded cheese at home, and you can just eat that with a spoon.

Trudging up the stairs, you nearly kick the dog again because it comes shooting around the corner of the stairs. As it is, you end up swerving and kicking the wall which makes you drop your grocery goods and you just.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

You gather the groceries in your arms again and make it finally to your apartment, nearly staggering into the door. You fumble with the keys, missing the lock a few times before jamming it in and twisting. You’re ready to collapse on the couch and chug your juice straight from the gallon container but you don’t because when you lift your eyes up from the ground, you’re met with the bestest, sweetest, slightly crooked smile in the world.

“Bucky!” You drop everything and full body launch yourself at him, nearly tipping him over. Whatever he says about being strong and sturdy, you’re a force to be reckoned with and you snuggle your face up against his neck, breathing in the pine needle and wood smoke scent he has. “I thought you weren’t going to be back for another week!”

“Decided to surprise you doll face.” He peppers your cheeks with kisses, and you can’t help the giggle that bubbles out of you. His lips are so warm against your chilled skin and you try your best to catch them against yours.

He hefts you up a bit so you’re almost sitting on his hip. He bends down to get the fallen chips and you squeal, tightening your hold on his neck. He fakes a choking sound and you loosen a little, feeling him smile against your cheeks.

“You’re so prickly.” Your fingers run along his jawline that’s covered in stubble.

You can feel his laugh, from his chest where you’re pressed. “Sorry pumpkin, I didn’t have a lot of time between there and here.” He stands back up again and you shriek again, burying your face at the sudden moment. “Sounds like you’re still full of energy though.”

“Noooo. I’m really tired Bucky, I had a hard day at work. I’ve had a hard day all dayyyyy.” You turn with a pout, which makes him kiss your puffed cheeks. His eyes sparkle with mirth and you feel like the entire day has completely melted away.

He carries you to the couch, depositing you in front of some of your favorite Chinese take-out. The smell alone makes you wanna drool and you lean forward to take a big, deep breath. “You are a god send.” He waives it out with another full belly laugh, handing you a pair of chopsticks. He got your favorite dumplings and sour-spicy soup and of course, shrimp lo mien. You practically inhale the food. “It’s so good babe, oh my god. I have been revived from the dead.” He flicks on the TV, finding some movie marathon. It sounds like Harry Potter but you’re way to invested in the food in front of you.

It makes you feel so overwhelmingly warm to have him home again after being away for so long. Soon enough, the empty cartons are abandoned on the table and you’re curled up against his side, exhaustion seeping into your warm, full body. Bucky’s got his arm around you, gently playing with the hair that curls by your neck. He’s telling a story, something about how he had found an adorable kitten at work who had clung to his shoulder all day.  His voice runs over you like honey tea, so warm and comforting. You have his other hand in your own hands, tracing the scars that lace over his knuckles and across his palm. Everyone your fingers cover, you follow with kisses.

“I love you.” You yawn in the middle, but he just leans over to kiss your forehead, simultaneously pulling over the blanket from the edge of the couch towards you. It’s your favorite blanket, and it definitely wasn’t on the couch this morning. God he’s so sweet.

“I love you too (name).” He gives you another forehead kiss and begins to play with your hair, which you almost purr at. This is it, this is peak comfort. You grip his shirt tightly, slightly worried this is just some fever dream you’re having at being so tired. “Tell me about your day. Don’t leave out a single detail!”

“Mm, well it started with a burnt pancake…”

[lotus-mirage]

episode 26 + 27 liveblog

(still not watching intro b/c spoilers)

Who’s this guy? (Su She) That seemed pretty accusatory.

Suspicious at the amount of flattery

So you can just start a clan like that. Huh.

Wait, ‘teenage hero’? Are they still teenagers? Explains some things, but. Yikes.

Oh dear he’s got his flute in hand already

And now we see where the ominous music is leading

I guess this other Jin disciple is taking Wen Chao’s vacated place as ‘blunt and hatable antagonist’

There he is! Didn’t expect wwx to be making this kind of rescue.

Aaaand he’s back to not emoting much

Asking after Wen Ning directly? Hmm.

Poor bean

Oh wow that was absolutely not the right depth for that bow

Ohhhhhh boy. The arguing and threatening could probably be swept under the rug with some finesse, but... challenging all the clan leaders to stop him from killing almost definitely cannot be. Jeez.

Well. I’d assume that it’d be extremely difficult to salvage his reputation after that.

Oh jeez

Between this and the fact that we’ve seen his corpse in episode 2, I’m not feeling good about Wen Ning’s chances.

No yeah I think he’s dead unless his ghost power kick in

Eef. That disregard from his father probably cost wwx any bits of Meng Yao’s regard.

I’m glad they’re acknowledging that he was right at least

They’re being made of work even in this weather?

I am genuinely distraught right now

They’re accusing the old lady and the child she was carrying of being cultivators!?

Is this all of them!???

Like, the entirety of the Wen clan remnants?

Oh god

They’re literally wading through the bodies

fuck

Oh my god

I forget what that pouch is. Did we know?

meant for testing for what

Oh god they’re even killing the survivors

Welp, these guys are dead

(Whoops, they forgot to make his hair look wet. Unless it magically dried)

Oh he’s crying

And here comes the necromancy I guess

He’s not being puppeted!?

Is that from his ghost disease thing?

How does she know that?

What was that???? He called another name and he stopped?

What was that?

And a lone survivor to tell the tale

Oh there are some survivors

Are there enough horses for that?

Is that the ending music!!?

Ahhhhhhh

fuck okay next one

- episode 27 -

I had to do stuff between watching the episodes, but I’m right back to being sad now

Wait, how can he save Wen Ning? I guess I’m not fully clear on his status in terms of life or death

:,(

Okay these last handful of scenes have been incredible to watch - very cinematic

Ahhhhhhh

He’s crying

I wonder where they’ll go?

Oh that’s ominous bird calls

Wait

Is this the Burial Mounds?? Why would he lead them here?

Was there a time skip or did WWX just move incredibly fast????

Also wow that’s some framing going on

I don’t think there were even 50 survivors left, actually

This entire exchange between clan leaders just has me going >:( at the screen the entire time

The Jin leader is trying to turn Jiang Chang against him. I can’t believe this. >:/

I hate this guy so much

Mianmian go!!!

Awww. She shouldn’t have had to secede, but I guess that’s sexism and politics.

>:(

>:(

I hate him so much

Thank you! Stand up for yourself!

He’s still doing what the Jin leader wants, which sucks, but at least we don’t have to listen to that anymore.

Is LWJ helping Mianmian? Please?

‘No association with evil’ ouch

His father’s lesson?

What! I want to know about his parents!!!

Tragedy?

Jin Zixuan is really indecisive, haha. Although I guess it’s probably warranted given current family tensions

He’s worried, which is sweet, but also like. No. She’s going.

How many song variations are there???

Is that Wen Ning under the talismans?? What’re they doing?

Where did she get the food from?

Awww! Whatever they’re doing is working, then?

Wow, how did they get the place up and running so fast? It didn’t look like there was any living greenery.

Awwww his interactions with the kid (Yuan?) are adorable

He tells him he’s gonna plant him and the kid goes right over and sits down in the dirt

Okay I wasn’t liking this episode at all beforehand but this kind of makes up for it

He’s helping bury himself!!

Pfft, Wen Qing

Of course he brute-forces his way through the barriers

:(

Awww

He’s living in a cave??

Cutting in the middle of a conversation again

End notes:

I am disappointed with everyone who was at that conference except Mianmian and maybe LWJ. Jiang Chang is on thin ice.

I am very glad that he actually went to see things for himself, but a little wary of him misinterpreting anything. Or getting manipulated.

I’m also glad that Jin Zixuan is starting to figure out how to talk to Jiang Yanli, but disappointed in him for not standing up for Mianmian. Also slightly confused over the fact that Jiang Yanli seems to have stayed in Carp Tower?

I really hated all the politics talk. It wasn’t even interesting, just characters I hate needling the ones I like. Unpleasant.

Interested to see whatever’s happening with LWJ. We seem to be heading towards getting more backstory on him, which is nice.

There is tension between all of the characters that I like and I hate it. (Romantic tension is, naturally, not a part of this category)

I’m glad that Wen Ning is getting resurrected in a different manner than the usual zombies. It’s interesting, and I wonder if there’s any way it could be replicated? Probably not (at least in canon).

WWX started a village! It’s adorable and I love it and I am supremely worried for its livelihood. He also seems to be doing much better there, honestly.

[fundeadasylum]

This Photo of Us Part 4: We Must Never Be Apart

This one is a bit shorter than the others and I apologize for that. But that was a perfect spot to end it so it had to be done. (tfw you wish you had time to illustrate this tasty fic)

There’s also a big ol’ disclaimer for some stuff at the end of this chapter. 

Warnings: emotional abuse and manipulation, mild physical abuse, non-consensual bondage (not sexual!), psychological torture and abuse, drug related withdrawals, captivity, descriptions of panic attacks

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 

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

He’d lost track of how long it had been.

Between passing out in the grass and the sick vertigo and unending headaches he’d been experiencing since, Jake had no idea how many days he’d been in Rosie’s care. It felt like years had been drained from his life, hours on top of his bruised and battered heart and crushing it under so much stress and time. His legs and arms were stiff and sore, his neck creaking as he moved, his spine a dull throb of pain. Moving too fast brought on a wave of vertigo that made his stomach heave and wretch, and his body was wracked by shivers and chills.

And he was tired. He was so very, very tired. The exhaustion dragged him down even more but no matter what he did, he couldn’t get enough sleep. The insomnia gnawed at his brain, chewing slowly away at his sanity as his heart ticked down his remaining minutes. No matter how low the shock setting on the collar had been, Jake knew his body had taken some damage from the device. And it was taking even more from the lack of sleep.

Jake slouched against the wall, splayed out on the bed with the sheets tangled in his legs and the heavy comforter wrapped around his shoulders. After his failed escape attempt, Rosie had carried him back inside and pushed the bed back against the wall. She’d done nothing to secure it but there was no danger of Jake trying to use it to get out the window again; he was much too weak now.

The sound of footsteps came from upstairs and Jake let his head roll on his shoulders to look at the door, his eyes lidded and tired. His bones felt rubbery and weak, jello melting in the heat around him. Too cold with the blanket off, too hot with it on.

The stairs creaked, locks jingled, and then Rosie stepped into the basement, her lips pursed in a displeased manner. Jake watched as she approached, hauling with her a couple of large shopping bags, one of which was making an awful lot of noise.

“How are you feeling today, hun, any better?” She set her bags down and pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. He flinched at her touch but didn’t pull away, “Hm, you don’t seem to have a temperature but you’re definitely experiencing symptoms like a cold. And these have been getting progressively worse. Did you get any sleep at all?”

He just stared at her. Rosie’s expression hardened,

“I asked you a question and I expect an answer. Do you want to lose more privileges?”

She’d stopped bringing him delicious home cooked meals after his escape attempt, telling him that bad behavior needed to be disciplined and good behavior could earn his lost privileges back. He’d been eating bowls of white rice and bologna sandwiches for who knew how long and he was getting tired of it.

So Jake sucked in a shaky breath and murmured, “No. No sleep.” He let his eyes fall closed and saw shapes swimming behind his eyelids. He snapped them open again and his throat clicked in a dry swallow when the phantom images remained, translucent fingers of grey smoke pressing against the edges of his vision.

“Poor, sweet thing,” Rosie cooed, smoothing his black hair from his face. Jake shivered at how hot her skin was against his, a sour taste filling his mouth as she coddled him, “I wish I knew how to help you. But you’re just being so uncooperative. If you know what’s wrong, I could end this suffering for you.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek and his skin burned where her lips had been, “I don’t understand why you want to punish yourself like this. Why won’t you let me help you? I’m only trying to do what’s best for you.”

A likely story.

Jake was pretty sure he knew what was wrong but that didn’t mean he was so eager to tell Rosie. It was some small act of rebellion on his part. Most people didn’t know because Jake didn’t want them to know and if Rosie didn’t know, then she was just another part of the general mass of humanity around him rather than a villain on a pedestal to be feared.

But this...this was too much. He could feel his mind fragmenting, splitting into slivers of who he was, breaking off to spiral slowly into a void of terror and mindless horror. This would destroy him eventually, he was sure of it.

“I…” His voice caught and shame crept over him like a wet blanket. He stared at his hands laying thin and pale in his lap, “There’s one med you didin’ get. Goin’ cold turkey on it…’s bad news.”

“What?” Rosie sounded genuinely astonished and Jake glanced up at her through his lashes, dull eyes sweeping over the startled expression on her face, “You were on more medication than just your aldosterone inhibitors and ARBs? Why didn’t you say something sooner!? Sweetie, this could have killed you!” She pressed her palms to his cheeks and lifted his head, making him look her in the eye. Jake whined at the contact, trying to pull back because it was just too much, but she dug her nails into his scalp and it felt like burning pokers searing his flesh,

“What was the medication? Tell me what it is and I can make this all go away. You just have to tell me, baby, and I can help you feel better.”

Jake only grinned at her, a lopsided, snarky thing that showed off the mad glint in his unfocused eyes, “F-fuck you. I c’n wait out the with--withdrawals. An’ then you’ll n-never know. Ha...haha…” He broke off into a wheezing, hysterical laugh that squeezed out a few salty tears. They felt like streaks of fire going down his face.

Rosie’s expression became cold and distant and she let him go, allowing him to thud back painfully against the wall. He was still grinning at her, the fear he should have been feeling muddied by exhaustion and hysteria.

“Okay,” Rosie said, taking a deep breath and letting it out again, “Okay. I see. I understand. You still seem to think that I’m trying to hurt you. Okay.” She reached down and pulled some things out of the forgotten shopping bags and knelt by the foot of the bed. Jake twisted to see what she was doing, frowning in confusion as he watched her use a power drill to screw a metal plate with a heavy ring to the wooden frame. There was something attached to the ring but no matter how he blinked, he couldn’t shake the fuzziness from his vision. He leaned back and closed his eyes, breathing deeply to steady himself. He floated for a moment that took years to pass and only came back to himself when he felt her hands on his legs.

Then there was something ice cold and heavy around his ankles.

Jake startled, jolting and pulling himself away from Rosie’s touch, his eyes wide despite his swimming vision. Something clanked loudly and dragged across the bed and his heart ached as his pulse sped up.

Chains.

He wondered if his hallucinations had really gotten that bad already. But hallucinations didn’t have weight and he could feel the heft of the black metal around his bare ankles, could feel the tug of the chains hooked through them. He pawed at the U-shaped shackles, whining and pulling and trying to unscrew the thick and heavy pin that pressed against his Achilles tendon. The chains were hooked through these pins, two separate, shortened lengths that were then hooked through a third U-shaped shackle and hooked onto the last and longest chain. The last chain was evidently cinched to the ring now fixed to the end of his bed.

Jake’s hands shook, tears spilling down his face as he gasped in shortened breaths, his heart thundering painfully in his chest. Sheer terror took over, cold sweat blistering against his fevered skin as he kicked and pulled and flailed, crying out in wordless fear at his own helplessness. White-out panic numbed his brain and all his animal brain could think was to get away. He backpedaled across the bed until he hit the opposite wall and wedged himself into the corner, shoulders bunching painfully as he pulled and yanked on the chain. The noise was deafening in his ears, so loud it rattled in his skull and made his teeth ache. His throat hurt and he couldn’t breathe and he was probably screaming but that barely registered beyond the blind panic that had consumed him.

Something warm pressed against him, caught his hands in a gentle grasp. A soft voice murmured in his ear and he couldn’t understand what they were saying but it was gentle and it was slow. Jake squeezed his eyes shut, tried to remember how to work his lungs properly, all the while shuddering with choked off sobs of fear and pain.

A soothing hand in his hair.

A soft brush of fabric against his bare arm.

“You’re so sensitive,” That voice, that voice, he knew that voice. Now if only he could get his racing thoughts to settle down, “It hurts me so much to do this to you but you’ll see, it’s better in the long run. I’m doing this for your own good, sweetie, I promise.” A kiss to his temple and it burned.

Jake’s eyes snapped open and he found Rosie inches away, smiling sadly at him as she ran her fingers through his hair. He froze, held his breath, didn’t dare move.

“Oh, honey,” She sighed and it smelled like peppermint, “You don’t need to be scared of me. This is what living with those people has done to you. They’ve made you so sick and afraid you can’t trust anyone anymore. Poor thing. But I’ll fix you, okay, I’ll make you all better. You just need to listen to me. You’ll get used to it. And then, when you’re finally free of what they’ve done to you, we can be together, forever, just like we’re supposed to be.”

She kissed him again, deep and passionate and she filled Jake’s world until he couldn’t take it anymore. He shoved her away in revulsion and wrapped his arms over his head, ducking his face between his knees. He was cold, so cold and tired and sick.

He heard Rosie shift and the weight left the bed. There was a long drag of fabric and he glanced through his fingers to see her bundling his sheets and blankets into her arms.

“NO!” He launched himself across the bed, scrabbling to snatch them away, but she stepped back with that sad and disappointed look on her face.

“I know you’re hurting but this is punishment for withholding information,” Rosie said, turning away and heading for the basement door, “You’ll get these back when you’ve decided to cooperate more. I’m going to make a phone call now. Why don’t you think about how you’ve hurt me while I’m gone.”

Jake ran for the door as she stepped through it, the chains loud as they scraped against the cement. But he never reached it. The chain wasn’t long enough and it tripped him, nearly sending him face first into the floor as he stumbled to a halt. The door shut and he heard the locks turn and then he was alone again.

He wanted to sink to the floor and die right then and there, just waste away and vanish into the earth.

But he was cold and he was tired and his entire body hurt. So he dragged himself back to his bed, crawled into the corner and curled around the pillow, shivering and wheezing and trying to ignore the flickering images and phantoms that slid back and forth in front of his eyes.

The shackles on his ankles and the thick collar on his neck were heavy and they dragged him down into a despair he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

----

A phone was ringing

Dan starred without seeing at the tabletop, his coffee growing cold in his mug, his mind a million miles away.

The phone kept ringing.

With a blink and sigh, Dan pushed his chair out and abandoned his coffee to investigate the noise. He was surprised the ringing hadn’t brought Milo running; the boy had been feverish in his attempts to find Jake, so much so that he refused to go to school despite Dan’s protesting. And Dan didn’t have the heart to push him. He knew Milo had exhausted himself this morning running around town and asking questions again so he was probably napping up in his room.

Dan frowned; it wasn’t the house phone that was ringing. So then where…

A light was blinking on the coffee table, next to the piles of paperwork and photos the police had asked for.

Jake’s cell phone was ringing.

Dan scrambled for it, nearly falling over the couch in his effort to retrieve it,

“H-hello? Hello, Jake?”

“Um,” There was an awkward pause on the other end of the phone, “N-no, sorry, um. I thought I was calling Jake? Who is this? Do I have the wrong number?”

“Oh...oh, no, no, you don’t…” Dan sank onto the couch, shoulders slumping, “Sorry, um, he’s not...he’s not here right now. He, uh,” Dan cleared his throat, stubbornly blinked back the tears, “Anyway, um, this is Dan, his roommate. Who--who is this?”

“I’m Rosie? I...don’t know if he told you about me? We were--we’re friends but it’s been a while since we spoke and I just...I would very much like to speak with him. It’s kind of important. Is he around?”

Rosie. The girl Jake had been hanging out with. The girl he’d asked to start dating. The girl who’d rejected him. Dan wanted to feel flare of defensive anger at her for hurting Jake but he couldn’t find the energy to muster it. If anything, it broke his heart more because she was in the same boat he and Milo were.

“Um, he’s…” Dan swallowed, took a deep breath, started again, “A-actually, Miss. Rosie, this isn’t really something to...to say over the phone. Are you--can you come over to the house so we can talk about this?”

----------

I did kind of a day's worth of research on heart medications and the conditions of heart failure, etc so I am by no means an expert. Some medicines for heart attacks and related heart failures are aldosterone receptor antagonists (or aldosterone inhibitors) and angiotensin II receptor blockers (or ARBs) which are what I have Jake taking.

I'm more intimately familiar with anxiety and depression medication as I've been on several different kinds over the past couple of years. The problem with prescribing Jake anxiety medication is that sometimes it can actually INCREASE the heart rate in some instances. There are A LOT of anxiety medications and if his anxiety is as bad as it seems he should probably be carrying around a situational medication. But given that he's so secretive about his meds, he probably wouldn't want those. So I just have him taking the same stuff I do, which is venlafaxine. It can affect blood pressure but that's not a big problem. It DOES, however, need to be taken at the same time every day with food as it's an extended release capsule. The major issue comes from quitting venlefaxine without weening yourself off it properly. Quitting it cold turkey can cause dizziness, insomnia, nausea, loss of appetite, vomiting, blurred vision, and even hallucinations. The meds take anywhere from three to five days to get out of your system completely. I couldn't find anything about how long withdrawal symptoms will last but I'm betting it's no kind of pleasant experience.

To be honest the guy also seems like he should also be on trazodone to help him sleep at night but that might be too much medication interacting with each other.

Also! The U-shaped shackles I have Rosie using are actually pin anchor shackles. Ones big enough to fit around an adult male’s ankles probably can’t be purchased at your typical marina but for the sake of fan fiction I can do what I want.