#lighter than air craft

[stone-cold-groove]

Popular Science Magazine - October 1928.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"MELVIN VANIMAN AND CREW, KILLED IN AIRSHIP EXPLOSION," Kingston Daily Standard. July 6, 1912. Page 1. ---- top picture: MELVIN VANIMAN AND THE CREW OF THE AKRON

Middle left: THE AKRON Right: FRAGMENTS OF BALLOON FALLING AFTER EXPLOSION

Melvin Vaniman, with his brother and three other members of the crew, was dashed to death when the dirigible balloon Akron exploded and fell into the sea during a flight at Atlantic City, N. J. The accident was witnessed by Mrs. Vaniman and thousands of spectators who lined the shore. None aboard the giant airship survived to tell how it was torn to shreds and junk in an instant.

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Black Out Days

Gale x F! Tav

18+ chronic pain, drug use (weed), unintentional aphrodisiac (slutweed), groping, dry humping, breast worship (f!), fingering (f!), body caging, roughness, sub/dom, tenderness

Tav's pain rising to an unbearable level, she indulges in some found herbs to find relief. But her sanctuary is laced with some heated side effects...

Masterlist

-

"Please, please I've had enough." She moaned, head resting against cool river stones.

The pain had been spiking over the base of her skull all day in excruciating arcs. It was all she could do to keep her eyes open, force her face to be impassive.

Between every horrible thing that had been happening to them, her chronic pain was her own burden to bear. She hadn't told anyone besides Halsin, the sweet man helped her as much as he could with what was available.

Nothing made her feel worse than being a burden, so she trudged on in silence. Still the leader they needed. Gods only know how she ended up in that position in the first place.

Crouching at the riverside, she gripped at slick stones, whimpering. Finally letting go of her lovingly crafted mask of health. Wanting to slam her insolent head into the earth, but knew that would offer no relief.

Scrambling hands reached into her pack. At the goblin camp, she had pocketed a jar of promising looking herbs.

She brought the unsealed jar to her nose.

Musky, sweet, near sulphuric.

Yes, praise the Gods. Halfling weed.

Packing Halsins borrowed pipe, she leaned back on haunches, the new movement making her stomach spin threateningly. If she could stretch this supply out it could sustain her, at least until she could slip into to an apothecary.

Flicking her fingers, she brought a small flame to the bowl. Breathing in slowly.

As soon as the smoke met her lungs, a spreading warmth caressed up the back of her spine. Gentle fingers splaying up, cradling the base of her skull. The agony dulling into a veiled hissing. Still crouched in the grass, but far from where she sat.

Tears of relief fell down her face. Gods, she could breath again. Body pulled down deliciously yet so much lighter.

She sighed, leaning her head back. Taking a moment to get lost in the crisp night air, the sounds of moving water, insects calling for one another in the dark. Finally able to perceive more than her anguish.

Standing, she headed back towards the orange point of their campfire. Body awash in calm.

As she re-entered their little world a new sensation sidled up to her spreaded peace.

A soothing heat slipped down her front, pressing an insistent touch inside of her pelvis.

Oh.

Kneeling near the campfire, she examined the jar more thoroughly. Lifting the bottom, she found a small scuffed label written in scratchy hand.

Halfing Weed; Succubus Spittle 5%

Hissing a breath between her teeth, she closed her eyes in defeat. Fucking goblins.

Slick already pooling between her legs, she groaned in frustration. Of course her savior came with a demand.

Already, she knew this was not nearly enough to deter her from the alternative. But it didn't make it any less vexing.

Hips already rocking against nothing, she was infinitely thankful that the camp had turned in for the night. Even Astarion off hunting for a few hours, at least.

Especially him, she knew he had the skills she needed in this moment. But she didn't want to do that to him. From one veiled mask to another, she could tell he didn't want her that way.

Dizzy with heat, she rose to head to her tent. More than willing to deal with this desire alone. She had a sure hand and a vivid imagination, it would be an easy burden to bear.

Her infatuation with the wizard could be tonight's theater of the mind. Wide shoulders, soft brown eyes, hair that brushed against his clavicle. The veins in his forearms when he pushed up his sleeves, large hands twisting and pulling with blue magic.

She moaned, and clapped her hand over her mouth.

Reign yourself in, Tav. Gods.

As if summoning him from her salacious imagination, he emerged from his tent.

Drowsily greeting her, he wandered towards the water pump, kneeling next to it. Pulling the lever, he opened his mouth and started swallowing what of the divulge of water he could catch.

She stood stock still, watching this innocuous moment like a wolf watches a rabbit. The desire pooled in her pelvis boiling over.

Wiping his mouth, he rose back to feet. Seeming to fully see her then.

"Tav, you alright? You seem a little flushed, in a haunted type of way."

Gods forgive her for what she was about to do.

Taking his hand, she wordlessly pulled him into his tent.

"What-" Her body cut him off, pressing hard into his.

Running her hands up his taut back, she buried her face into his neck. The curve of his waist bending up into shoulders making her moan softly.

He was so warm, so solid against her pushing. Smelling of old books and leather. Her hand rising to tangle into his hair, tugging gently.

His body seemed to go weak then, gripping onto her for support.

"Tav, Gods..." He shivered.

His voice bringing her back to herself for a moment, she made to pull away. But his hands held her anchor to him.

"Please, don't stop." He pleaded.

Like a flint sparking, she dove back in. Hips fluid and insistent against his. Gathering his sleep shirt in her demanding hands. Pulling his head back to release his neck to her. Pulsing, biting, suckling into the soft flesh.

The herb removing all inhibition, she was a growling animal against him. Hands pinning and pulling, mouth hungry and salivating.

He fell to knees, and she followed him down. Straddling over his lap, licking an obscene line up his panting throat.

His length already a pillar pushing against her. Hands catching her writhing hips, pulling them flush to him.

Her head fell back then, the friction Gods sent. The slick already pooled in her underclothes welcoming him.

Something seemed to snap in him.

His hands wrenched her sleep shirt over her shoulders. Caging over her body, pushing her down on his bedroll.

"Yes," She moaned, falling open for him.

His mouth pushed into hers, gripping the back of her head.

The heat coming off of him was making her head spin. Intoxicating her body into liquid, crashing against him in waves. All smothered soft calls and silent demanding mouths.

Tangling into him like it was all she knew. All her body could know was getting as close as she could without being inside.

He hitched her leg up over his hip and ground down hard. Groaning in the back of his throat. Chest lit up purple, eyes glowing.

Concern arced through her stifling heat.

She cupped the sides of his face, bringing his eyes to hers.

The question in her eyes reached him. Hips still pistoning, he nodded.

"Please, I want to."

"Then take what you want." She gasped out, leading his head down.

He dove on her breast, licking her hard tip into his warm mouth.

"Fuck," She hissed, back arching.

She tried to reach for his sleep pants but his hand caught her wrist, forcing it above her head.

Pushing her underclothes down her hips, he rubbed hard against her clit. Blurring his hand.

Choking out a moan, she writhed helplessly. His body keeping her pinned and open. Splayed fully against him.

His mouth switched sides, taking up her soft untouched breast. The slurping suckle his tongue pulled against her peak making her mewl.

"Please, Gale. Inside." She pleaded, bucking her hips as much as his hold would allow.

He pushed two fingers inside her, moan muffled against her flesh.

"You're so wet," He groaned.

"You. All you." She moaned, sentences and their structures utterly lost.

But those words must have been more than enough. His fingers began slamming inside her, hooking towards her navel.

Her head fell back, gripping his head to her breast. The force of his fingers rocking her back and forth.

He was the tide and she a ship, unanchored and tossing through the waves.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She whined as the pressure in her pelvis tilted up, threatening collapse.

He pulled her engorged peak between his teeth and she was thrown overboard.

Her legs arched up, clamping around his hips. Back bending, the force of the pleasure striking through her was near agony. Completely stealing her voice away, only gasping out choking silent cries. The herbs making her reach new heights, unwinding like a tapestry pulled. Clenching hard enough around his fingers to make him groan.

She collapsed under him, head lolling. Eyes glazed and rolling.

He pulled his fingers from her, licking them clean. Leaning down to nuzzle into her neck, his beard tickling her.

"You didn't-" She started weakly.

"With the state of the orb, I think it's in all of our best interests if I obstained."

"Besides," He hummed, kissing under her jaw. "Your pleasure has more than sustained me."

"Though I am curious, what brought on this most welcome intrusion?"

She hesitated. Not wanting another person, especially him, who has so much to hurdle over already, to worry about her.

"It's this... pain I have. I found some soothing herbs and they helped. A lot actually. But with other effects."

She pulled the small jar from her strewn trousers, handing it to him.

Immediately he flipped it over to examine the bottom, and she groaned in embarrassment.

"See, that's exactly what I didn't do."

Grabbing for her shirt she instead landed on his, pulling it over her head.

He smiled at her, eyes lit up with appreciative glint.

"Ah, of course it looks better on you."

"Cozy." She sighed, the velvet material warming her through. Sleeves swallowing her hands.

He reached inside her pocket and retrieved the pipe, sparking up his fingers and bringing it to his lips.

Seeing her shock, he smiled.

"You're not the only one fighting pain." He knocked his knuckles on the burned circle in his chest.

"Besides, you seemed to be in a peaceful state. I'd like to meet you there, if you'd allow me."

"Deal." She smiled, sliding on knees to sidle up close to him again. "But only if you let me stay the night."

"Oh, you drive a hard bargain." He smiled at her, scrunching up his nose in that playful way that made her heart gallop.

As soon as he breathed in, she held his chin in her fingers. Pulling his mouth to hers, breathing in the smoke as it left him.

Starting to relax, he pulled her down with him. Sighing contently as she snuggled into him.

"Oh, careful. I could get very used to this."

~

[biblio-smia]

i love ur writing 🥹 i was wondering if you could write about spending christmas with mike and abby? i think that’d be really cute 🫶

hii thank you so much!! in anticipation of the holiday season here you go <3 please ignore any typos

the air is cold despite the bundles of blankets on you, biting at the tip of your nose and leaving frosty kisses on your cheeks. it's merciless as it pulls you from your peaceful sleep, making you pull up the covers with a groan. your body contracts, folding into itself in an attempt to bask in the warm air you've trapped underneath your blankets.

your alarm goes off and you groan.

your head peeks out to glance at the time. 7 a.m. too early. icy air enters your nose through a deep breath as your brain attempts to catch up and remind you of today's schedule.

you're about to nestle inside your blankets and go back to sleep when your eyes find your clock again.

december 24th.

how could you forget?

there's a few final things to pick up before heading over to mike's: stocking stuffers, some more wrapping paper, pre-made cookie dough (the three of you have decided to make dessert from scratch tonight, but you're sure mike will find a way to mess it up).

another gift for abby catches your eye in glimpses between people, mike's complaining that you always spoil abby ringing in your head (so you buy him another gift, too). you should've gotten a cart or at least picked up a basket but it's too late now that your hands are full. you keep your items close to your chest, fingers going a little numb from the thawing cookie dough, pushing through the overcrowded aisles. it's a relief once you finally check out, exchanging your money for easier-to-carry bags full of your items.

the air is vicious when you step outside, refusing to mellow out. it forces you to hurry to your car, getting inside and turning on the heat hastily. after you rub a little bit of feeling back into your hands, you waste no time in driving over to mike's. 7:58 a.m. perfectly on schedule.

you should've called to announce your arrival before even stepping out of your car. you've knocked and can't expect mike to have been waiting at the door for you, but every second feels like torture when the wind is roughing you up.

your face splits into a grin when the door opens, mike tugging you inside, chilled through his red sweater from just the gust of wind that blew in with the quick opening of his door. he greets you with a warm hug, helps you hang the thick coat that is no longer appropriate for his warm home.

the schmidt house is somehow cozier than it usually feels, adorned with lights and greenery (that you'd helped put up). a christmas tree sits in the corner of the living room, decades old and the perfect size for the space, glittery ornaments reflecting the yellow lights of the small bulbs hidden between the branches of the plastic green tree. there are other ornaments, too - special ones, like old family photos mike still liked to put up, and ones abby had crafted herself. there were even some little snowmen mike had made when he was a kid, out of popsicle sticks and paint. you were proud to say there was an ornament you had gifted mike and abby on the tree, a little reindeer frame with a photo of the siblings inside.

"have you eaten yet? i'm almost done with breakfast." mike offers, resuming his role in the kitchen and attending to the eggs and strips of bacon on the stove.

you shake your head. "i haven't," you admit and mike nods, pulling out three plates from the cabinet.

"you're not allowed to look at these," you motion to the shopping bag you hold, a little lighter now that you've set the cookie dough on the counter. you're on your way to mike's room to set the gifts down before abby spots them when mike scoffs, looking pointedly at the cookie dough.

"you don't believe in me?" he asks playfully, picking up the container to store in the fridge.

"of course not!" you call from the hallway.

you take the small slot of solitude to quickly wrap the gifts you'd bought, knowing you won't have another chance with the busy schedule the three of you had planned. as you'd suspected, mike had been on his last scraps of wrapping paper, forcing you to wrap each gift in a different design. you uncapped a sharpie, wrote abby on one and mike on the other, cleaned up your area, and set the bag aside once again. your timing is perfect - you slip out of mike's room to see mike padding down the hall. you hear the creak of the carpeted wood as he comes up behind you, hand slipping easily on your shoulder as you quietly open abby's door. the two of you slip in to the dimly lit room, overcast sky letting grey shine through.

abby is curled up into herself, arms squeezing the life out of one of many stuffed animals, tightly wrapped blankets suffocating the teddy bear in her arms even more.

you're hesitant to wake her, but you know how upset she'll be if you don't. mike sits carefully and places a hand on the lump of abby that vaguely resembles a part of her arm, attempting to wake her through gentle shaking.

abby stirs but groans, disappearing further under the covers, conserving the warmth she has there.

"abby," mike sings. "it's christmas eve."

you can almost see abby's eyes widen before she even appears, thick blankets and bear thrown aside as abby shoots up. her head moves excitedly as she just now registers your presence in the room, throwing herself into mike's lap and wrapping her arms around him, giggling ecstatically. it's not long before she's moved onto you, gripping onto you tightly like she always does when she doesn't want you to leave.

but you're planning on spending at least a few more hours with the schmidts.

"c'mon, breakfast is ready," you say sweetly, tugging abby towards the bathroom gently.

"i can smell the bacon!" abby exclaims, smiling over at mike. he follows the two of you out, a discreet arm on your back pulling you towards the kitchen to allow abby a chance to wash up.

you expect mike to pull away from you once you arrive, to begin serving the still-hot breakfast he has prepared - but he doesn't. the arm on your back slides, but doesn't leave, as mike wraps his other arm around you, hands joining at your front. he rests his head against you, hold a little lazy but warm nonetheless. your hands wiggle between his, fingers clasping his. mike makes no move to leave and you laugh, elbowing him lightly.

"get off."

this just makes mike hold you tighter.

"mike!"

mike groans against you but doesn't move, forcing you to wiggle your hands out of his grasp and learn how to walk with a new weight attached to you. you eventually make it to the stove, mike giving you the courtesy of freeing your arms and allowing you to begin plating breakfast.

mike doesn't let go until all three plates are full of warm food, straining a little to press a kiss on your face before grabbing two of the plates and moving them to the little dining table. you're just setting down the last one when abby reappears, eyes bright and body cozy in a very festive sweater.

"where's yours?" abby demands, looking pointedly at mike. his mouth forms a little o, getting up from his spot at the table to start heading to his room.

"don't worry," abby continues, uncrossing her arms and looking up sweetly at you as she slides into her seat for breakfast, smile wide as she picks up her fork. "we got you one, too."

with plates cleared and bellies full (and adorned with matching sweaters), abby seizes the opportunity to lay out the schedule for the day.

"okay," she begins, pushing her essentially clean (save for a few crumbs) plate away, folding her hands neatly in front of her. "christmas movies," abby says, looking between you and mike for confirmation. "christmas cookies." you nod when abby's eyes land on you, leaning forward in anticipation. "and... we can go look at the lights?" abby looks at mike hopefully, and who is he to say deny her request?

"there's a neighborhood, like, 40 minutes away that goes absolutely crazy with christmas decorations. abby's been wanting to see it forever." mike informs you before giving abby a smile. "we can go look at the lights."

abby cheers and you laugh, moving to pick up the plates from the table. "so, abs, what movie do you wanna watch first?"

"we can take turns picking!" abby calls as she speeds to the couch, making space for both you and mike as she tugs on the blanket hanging on the back of the couch.

"well, i think the youngest should go first," you call back as you dump the plates and cutlery into the sink, mike bringing over the cups you'd all used. mike doesn't even give you the chance to turn on the faucet before you're pushed out of the way. of course, you shove mike's shoulder (though can you really even call it a shove?).

abby pats the seat next to her excitedly and you grab the small case of dvds, finding the festive ones and discussing the various options with abby. she finally chooses the grinch (the animated one, because the real one still freaked her out). mike is just coming over when she's made her decision, taking the dvds from you and sliding the grinch into the dvd player.

mike settles next to you as the animation begins to play, arm landing around your shoulders as you relax between him and abby. the grinch ends quickly, but you all make it through an entire round of turns and almost 3 hours of animated films before mike is gently pulling away from you and standing, eyeing the clock and muttering something about dinner. it's early, but mike is back soon enough after putting something in the oven.

he's been really trying to make this year the best christmas for abby: decorating much more than he normally would, trying to budget for presents he'd normally never look twice at. making you an essential piece of their christmas.

abby adores you, obviously. almost as much (if not as much) as mike does. while mike and abby have bonded more on their own, mike credits you for making the house feel warmer. for making it feel like he has a family again.

he's really trying to not let that thought terrify him.

but he knows abby feels it, too. the more frequently you come over and the longer you stay, the more it feels like you're supposed to be living with them, an integral piece of the schmidt house that just fits.

mike knows he'd like you around for as long as you'd let him. but for now, it's christmas, and mike wants to remember every moment.

there's a small camera in one of the drawers of a cabinet, one that mike made sure to charge before today. he pulls it out now, snaps a quick photo of you and abby cuddled up on the couch, very invested in home alone on the screen. mike smiles at the result that flashes on the small camera screen, setting it down on the table that sits in front of the couch before settling into his designated spot once more.

you glance curiously from mike to the camera, reaching for it carefully to not disturb abby too much. you let go of her gently, power on the camera and point the lens towards mike. you manage to take a photo of him caught off-guard, and another as he realizes what you're doing and smiles. you make a mental note to back up the sd card before leaving as you shut the camera off again, letting it sit on the coffee table for later.

you're about halfway through home alone 2 (it's no longer abby's turn, but you're all picking movies she wants to watch, anyways), when mike shifts out from under you again, whispering that he's gonna start making dinner.

"hey, abs, think you can finish this one by yourself?" you ask quietly, motioning to the movie.

"hmm," abby hums. "only if you guys make mac n' cheese."

you laugh, press a kiss to her forehead. "deal."

mike has already started pulling out pots and pans, various ingredients from the fridge and pantry littering the counter tops. mike stands, hands on his hips and head tilted in confusion as he looked down at a small notebook.

you come over and place a hand on mike's shoulder with hopes to soothe. you peer over to see what is testing mike and find a recipe for breaded chicken.

"what are we making?" you ask.

"i have no clue," mike admits with a sigh, flipping through the book.

"abby requested mac n' cheese," you offer.

"well that i can make." mike shuts the book and you smile, moving to reach for the ingredients you know you'll need. "i've got it," mike insists, though you've learned that that means he doesn't want to bother you.

"i know you do," you say, kissing his cheek. you reach for a medium-sized pot and mike bites his lip. his chest is warm as he steps out of your way, passing you ingredients and giving you directions as you start on dish one, together.

abby groans as she lets her fork clatter to her plate. "i'm so full, but it's so good!"

you laugh, pulling abby's plate away from her and scraping the last little bites of her second helping onto your own plate. "don't worry, we have a ton of leftovers."

"start getting ready, abby," mike says, finishing his own plate and smiling as abby cheers. "make sure to bundle up! it's cold," mike calls after abby, who's already racing down the hallway.

mike shakes his head and you're grinning. the two of you shove the last few forkfuls of food in your mouths, anxious to start heading out before it starts getting too crowded. the sun has almost completely set, the winter days making the days feel shorter. today, though, has called for a packed schedule.

you insist on cleaning up this time, pushing mike towards his room to go get ready. abby and mike reappear as you're pulling on the coat you shed that morning. mike buttons up abby's thick coat, wrapping a thick scarf around her.

of course, mike has one for you, too.

it's a warm, knit black one that you've seen mike wearing on multiple occasions. he wraps it around you twice, tying it off and making sure it's not too tight. you fix the collar of mike's coat, smoothing it flat with your hands. mike's hands linger on your scarf while his eyes have caught yours.

they're still so mesmerizing, a warm shade of brown that reflects the little lights hung up around the house. he's smiling, shyly under your gaze, but it spreads through his face and creates a glint in his eyes.

abby pulls on the crook of your arm, pulling your hand off of mike's chest. "let's gooo!"

"okay, okay," mike laughs, taking his hands off you and reaching for his keys. abby's hand is in yours as you step outside into the freezing afternoon, hurrying to the car with mike right on your trail. the heat blasts before the last door even shuts, all three of you shivering despite your layers.

mike turns up the radio to the inevitable christmas music playing, though it only fuels your festive spirits. the drive is anything but quiet, between the songs on the radio and abby telling you all about the great christmas party her class had just before break, there's enough chatter and laughter to last longer than the forty minute ride.

the roads are pitch black, thick clouds covering the shine of the moon as mike makes the final turn. the world is suddenly light up, huge blowups of famous christmas characters decorating almost every lawn, houses adorned with enough lights that you're sure would triple your electricity bill. there are huge candy canes, little christmas gnomes, even fake snow - no, real snow.

"oh, my god!" you laugh, pointing at the little white dots on mike's windshield.

"it's snowing!" abby cries, begging mike to get out and enjoy it. he yields and finds a place to park near the front of the huge neighborhood. the three of you are out, joining the small crowds of people who have made it out of their cozy houses on christmas eve to come see the lights.

abby is off, though mike warns her not to go too far, the wet snow not enough to keep her from admiring the glowing displays of rudolph and frosty.

you and mike hang back, watching her from the sidewalks, arms linked. snow collects quickly on your coats due to your leisurely paces, but it's too cold to retract your hands from your pockets to wipe it off.

"look!" abby calls from the next lawn over. "hot chocolate!"

sure enough, one kind neighbor is standing with a table full of hot drinks. three of them are picked up and you know the warmth of the drink and its sugar content is going to keep abby going for a while.

you and mike comment on each house, pointing out all the small details, how one house has been made to look one made out of gingerbread, complete with fake gumdrops. you've even began to give each house a rating out of five, as if you were judges on one of those light fight shows that always came on in the evenings.

"what about this one?" you stand in front of a home that looks like a christmas disco, bright flashing lights and colorful, mismatched decorations taking over the small plot of land.

"hmmm," mike hums through a sip of his drink. "i think three stars. maybe two, it's kind of giving me a headache."

you laugh and mike pulls you along to the next house that abby waves you towards, where a real-life santa has stopped, taking a break before his next round of dropping off gifts.

mike pats his pockets, sighing. "i forgot-"

"this?" you pull out the small camera from your pocket and mike grins. the two of you take turns taking photos of abby and santa, all wide smiles as santa picks abby up.

"here, why don't you two get in there?" a voice behind you speaks, an older woman coming up, patting your arms and reaching for the camera.

"oh, thank you," mike accepts graciously, pointing out the right button to click as he hands it over. the two of you join abby, posing next to santa for a few photos, flash almost blinding you a few too many times.

"thank you so much," you say gratefully, taking back the camera as mike joins you and abby begins saying her goodbyes.

"of course, dear. you two have a beautiful daughter." the woman smiles so wide you can't bring yourself to correct her.

"oh, she's not-"

"thank you," you interrupt. "and merry christmas."

"merry christmas," the woman repeats, heading off to rejoin her own friends, who point and coo at abby even from where they stand.

mike is looking at you with a smile on his face, wondering if there's any way you could possibly share his sentiments around the energy you bring when the three of you are together. he doesn't have time to ask, though, as abby comes up to you.

"ready to go?" mike asks, recognizing the tired look on her face.

abby nods and begins walking in front of the two of your, navigating back to the car. you slide your hand, cold from its exposure to the air, into mike's, pulling him into your coat pocket. you give him a kiss, lips warm from the drink you'd finished and the two of you are on your way, following abby closely.

you'd been forced to stomp the wet mush off your shoes before stepping inside, leaving all three pairs of shoes over a towel to avoid getting the floor wet.

the three of you shed your layers, stripping until the three of you sit in the matching christmas sweaters you'd started in.

"more hot chocolate?" you ask from the kitchen, thinking it's the perfect time to start baking some cookies.

"yes, please!" abby chimes as she climbs back under the blankets on the couch.

the hot milk you pour for the drink warms your hands, but the way abby's face lights up as you set the mug in her hands warms your heart. you waited until the drink was cool enough to drink before bringing it over, knowing abby did not have a patient bone in her body. she goes in for a sip immediately, bobbing for some of the melting marshmallows that sit on top.

"thank you," abby grins, licking chocolate from her top lip.

"you're welcome," you laugh, letting her attention to fall back to the tv behind you as you make your way back to the kitchen where two more mugs sit on the counter, steam coming out in little white wisps.

you bring mike's mug over(the one abby got him, the one that says WORLD"S BEST BROTHER), but considering he has cookie dough up to his wrists, you bring the warm cup up to his lips instead. mike takes a careful sip, humming at the taste of the sweet chocolate.

"does this look right?" mike asks with a little desperation in his voice as you set his mug down a safe distance away.

you take a look inside the large bowl he's working with, tilting your head at the mixture that doesn't quite look like the cookie dough you buy from the store.

"i think you added too much milk?" you offer.

"i didn't add milk," mike sighs, trying to keep his sleeves up and out of... whatever what was in that bowl.

you keep yourself from laughing with a bite of your lip, rolling mike's sleeves up for him. "here." you reach for the flour, adding in more and letting mike mix it around until it finally begins to resemble something more akin to cookie dough. you dare to try it, making a face that mike can't discern the meaning of.

"is it good?" mike asks, opening his mouth for a spoonful of the dough from you you.

"well, it's not bad," you say, putting the small spoon in mike's mouth for him to try. mike makes a face similar to the one you're sure you made, staring down at the bowl.

"how about we just make these chocolate chip cookies instead?" you offer, already moving to get the pre-made sugar cookie dough out of the fridge.

"yeah, that'll be better." mike scrapes as much of the cookie dough as he can from his fingers, washing the rest off in the sink and grabbing chocolate chips to add in. you're pulling out sheet trays to place all the cookies out and abby is called over to help cut out shapes to decorate later.

the sugar has taken its affect. abby bounces around, barely unable to wait until the short 12 minutes on the timer go off, staring at the cooling cookies on the counter as if that'd make them cold enough to decorate, faster.

at least she's still up - you're really hoping to see her open a gift at midnight.

"can we decorate them now?" abby asks, gently pressing on one of the sugar cookies to check its temperature. "they're cool."

you press a finger on the surface of the cookie, right next to hers. she's right - they're perfectly room temperature. you nod and abby cheers, taking a bit of a chocolate chip cookie as she starts decorating a cookie in the shape of a christmas tree.

"she is going to crash so hard later," you laugh with mike as the two you of start on your own cookies.

and abby does, in fact, crash hard.

her sugar-fueled energy had finally run out, leaving her head in mike's lap and the rest of her body sprawled out on you. the laughter that echoed in the kitchen had died down, cookies eaten, frosting spread on noses wiped off and licked off lips. you laid against mike's chest, watching the holiday movie playing with half-lidded eyes.

"are you asleep?" mike whispers when he hears your breathing even out for the second time.

"i'm not," you insist, blinking yourself awake.

mike laughs quietly, clearly not believing you.

"hey," he nudges you. "it's past midnight. merry christmas." mike turns his head to kiss your cheek, lips warm against your skin.

"merry christmas," you whisper back, trying to gently recover your hand from under abby to hold mike's.

but abby twists and turns until her eyes slowly blink open and she yawns, curling up closer to you and mike from underneath the blanket.

"what time is it?" she asks sleepily, though she makes no move to get up to go to bed. that's okay - mike will gladly carry her.

"merry christmas, abs. it's past twelve."

mike wasn't expecting abby to shoot up, giddy smile overriding any tiredness she felt.

"it's christmas!" abby cries, checking the clock just to make sure.

"merry christmas," you laugh, arms gently around abby to make sure she doesn't hit the floor in her excitement.

"merry christmas!" abby replies, throwing her arms around your torso and pressing her head in your neck, squeezing hard.

"merry christmas, mike!" abby moves on to mike, wrapping her arms around her neck as she hugs him tight.

abby is out of your reach quickly, untangling herself from the blankets and racing towards the christmas tree. "everyone has to open one!" abby calls, waving the two of you over.

"okay, let's see," you say, taking the blanket off both you and mike as you go to join abby. there's not a lot of presents under the tree, but both you and mike have worked together over the months to make sure that'll change by morning.

"i say, always go for the biggest," mike says, reaching for the biggest wrapped gift with his name on it - which happened to be from abby. you and abby exchange a knowing look and the two of you giggle, knowing exactly what the present mike picked up is.

you remember when abby shyly approached you with an idea in her head and a drawing in her hand. it'd taken a lot of work to put together, but abby had been so proud of you, excitedly helping you wrap it and unable to wait for mike's reaction to the gift.

well, here it was.

mike glances between the two of you with a smile as he tears the gift paper, revealing a sweater, multi-colored and uniquely decorated by abby.

"woahh!" mike grins, examining the details on the sweater before pulling it on. "it's beautiful. it fits great. it's perfect, abby, thank you. i love it." mike pulls in abby for a hug and she giggles, admiring how the sweater looks on mike. it's... definitely unique, but you know mike will wear it out anyway. the whole thing makes you smile so hard you barely register abby and mike looking at you expectantly, gesturing for you to pick a gift yourself.

"you know, i think i'll pick a small one," you reach for a small bag with both abby's and mike's names on it. you sift through the tissue paper to find a small basket filled with your favorite treats and, most importantly, a small handmade bracelet. you pick it up with a smile, slipping it on and looking up to see abby pull out two matching ones - one for her, one for mike.

"now we all match," abby grins.

'i love it!" you laugh, pulling them both in for a hug, holding up your wrists to look at the three bracelets together.

"okay, last one for tonight," mike says, fighting back a yawn. he's the only one who hasn't fallen asleep (even if only a little bit) tonight and it makes you frown ever-so-slightly.

"mmmm, i choose... this one!" abby reaches for an oddly-shaped, medium-sized gift wrapped in dark red paper with her name and yours written on it. she tears through the paper and the tape holding it together easily, eyes bright once they register the stuffed animal she's been wanting forever in her hands. abby's in your lap again, the little beaver plush you'd gotten her squished in between the two of you as she hugs you tight, thanking you profusely. you laugh, rubbing her back and saying something about the beaver not being able to breathe properly from where it's at right now.

abby lets go, plushie held tight in her hands as she stands, big yawn sending her body into a full stretch.

"okay, i think that means it's time for bed," mike says, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. "we'll open more presents as soon as you wake up."

that makes abby grin and she's in bed in no time. you clean up the area under the tree a little, picking up all the trash and putting the gifts aside for safe-keeping.

you enter abby's room to kiss her goodnight, following mike out and quietly moving gifts from mike's closet to their rightful place under the tree. the two of you clean up the living room: folding the blankets, doing any leftover dishes, saving leftovers and wiping off the counters.

the exhaustion is beginning to kick in, evident in mike's tired eyes. but the night is coming to an end and sweet sleep awaits you.

"you're staying over tonight, right?" mike asks, voice quiet and a little shy.

"well, i already brought clothes, so, yes." you're grinning and mike's face splits into a smile. you're following him into his room and into his bed, the two of you knowing how to share the small space comfortably after a few times now.

you're grateful for the warmth mike provides, for the feeling of security his arms give you. it's really been the perfect christmas already and it's only technically only halfway over. the plan for tomorrow is more or less the same, watching movies together and doing any other typical christmas activities you can think of. you're not worried about inadequate sleep tonight - the chances of abby waking up before ten a.m. are more than unlikely.

late nights in, late mornings. spending time with your favorite people in the world. it's an unbeatable feeling, warming your heart and making a dopey smile appear on your face.

mike can tell you're not sleep yet, feels you shift a little beside him. you've turned to look at him better and he's trying to figure out why when you kiss him. it's dark, but you've essentially memorized is face in this exact lighting.

"goodnight kiss?" mike asks cheekily, pulling you closer.

"something like that," you grin. "today was a good day."

"a really good day. it's been so long since we've had that much fun on christmas," mike admits, a little quietly.

you're quiet, too. you run a hand through mike's hair slowly, fingers wrapping around his curls.

"i love you," mike whispers as though it's the first time he's saying it. and even though it's not, it still makes you smile like it is.

"i love you, too." you kiss him again but he doesn't let you go as quickly as before, hanging on to you and capturing you again a few more times first.

"okay," you laugh between kisses, giving mike one final one. "last one. that's your goodnight kiss."

mike groans, tucking his head in the crook of your neck, gently leaving kisses there. "fine," he mutters against the skin of your neck.

"go to sleep," you roll your eyes playfully, letting mike rest half on you, hands on his back and in his hair.

"i am," mike insists, kissing your jaw before settling down, arm thrown over your body.

you're not quite sure who falls asleep first, but it feels like no time at all before abby is in the room, calling the both of you awake to keep opening presents.

though, her expression is worth it all, mouth agape and eyes wide upon seeing all the gifts that have magically appeared under the tree.

you and mike exchange a knowing glance when abby's not looking, very proud of yourselves.

and as the three of you sit, watching abby unwrap her presents, mike can't help but be a little impatient for the last gift you will open, a small little box from him that's been carefully hidden behind all the other presents.

because, while the past day has only further proven it, mike has known for a while that there's not a day he wants to spend without you - a promise that he hopes you'll accept along with that small piece of jewelry.

[worldhistoryfacts]

There was a bit of an arms race in early ballooning between people who wanted to use hot air to lift balloons and those who wanted to use lighter-than-air gases like hydrogen.

The hot-air devotees, led by the brothers Joseph-Michel Montgolfier and Jacques-Étienne Montgolfier had an early lead in the race. They had watched fire ashes lift into the air and wondered whether the smoke — which they thought was a lighter-than-air product of the fires — could lift people, too. They experimented with small balloons, then larger ones made of burlap sealed with several layers of paper inside.

Finally, they launched the first unmanned hot-air balloon in June 1783 at Annonay, France, in front of a crowd of dignitaries. The balloon — without a basket or any kind of payload — ascended several thousand feet over the course of about 10 minutes.

The hydrogen users weren’t far behind. A French scientist named Jacques Charles designed a balloon made of silk with a rubber coating and painstakingly filled it with hydrogen in central Paris. This took days, and it became a curiosity; crowds gathered and gawked at the slowly inflating balloon.

When Charles finally launched his craft — again, with a crowd of important people in attendance, including Benjamin Franklin, the American ambassador to France at the time — it flew a little better than the Montgolfiers’ effort, traveling several miles over 45 minutes. But when the balloon landed, local farmers attacked and destroyed it.

{WHF} {Ko-Fi} {Medium}

[moondrop-writes]

Okay okay I know you JUST wrote something for me but I also JUST got an idea! What about either Connor Stoll or Percy dating a daughter of Dionysus!? He doesn’t know initially but when he noticed them spending more time together he gets suspicious and then when he walks into her cabin without word one day and catches her kissing him he realizes that his precious daughter is dating the guy…which he’s not pleased about. So he threatens his daughter’s boyfriend and is all “if you so much as look at her the wrong way I WILL hunt you down and you’ll regret it for the rest of your life” but ultimately approves because he sees how happy that he makes the reader? And so he goes back to reader and tries to make the threat not seem as bad and they just have a cute little picnic or something together.

If you choose to ignore that’s fine cause you did JUST write something for me, but I think it might be interesting.

hi hi! and no worries about the amount of requests ill take em all! because i just wrote something with percy, i'll go with connor + i love the stoll brothers so...thank you for the request!

edit: i just realized i completely forgot the picnic part...im so sorry :(

You sat on a bench on the porch of your cabin, bending grapevines and leaves amongst twigs to fold it into a crown. Connor, amused, sat at your feet, chin hooked on top of your knee.

"Just wait," you murmured, tongue poking out from your lips as you tie the twigs with a few stray pieces of string, "it looks better when it's on your head."

Connor hummed, raising an eyebrow. You've pricked your fingers about five times, and it'd been an hour of you carefully crafting the crown, but he'd stayed there at your feet for every second of it.

"Aha!" you grinned and leaned down to place it in his curls. Immediately, his dark curls seemed to swallow it up. He winces, as pulls on one curl that had been tugged on uncomfortably when it was placed in his head.

You'd been right, it did look better on his head. The leaves stood out in his dark hair, and the wood of the twigs was a lighter shade than his hair.

You smiled, cradling his cheeks in your hands. "See? Perfect."

He giggled, "me or the crown?"

"Both."

You leaned in to kiss him, when your name was sharply called.

"Y/N!" Your head shot up to find your father, Dionysus, making his way towards you. Connor's eyebrows furrowed, showing his distaste at the intrusion, but stood up and shuffled away a bit. Not even he would dare face your father.

"Papa," you greeted, standing up. He glanced at Connor, but looked over it and waved you forward. Nervously, you hopped down the steps to greet him. Even if he was your dad, and you were around him frequently, he was still a god and could very much turn you into a shellfish if he pleased.

"Yes?" You asked, hands folded behind your back. Your father rubbed his temple, can of coca-cola in hand.

"I need you to overlook the new campers in the archery range. I would ask somebody else, but they all made up excuses and I don't have the energy to do it," he looked genuinely sympathetic for you, knowing very well how much of a pain some new campers could be. It wasn't new to you, for him to treat you so kindly, but Connor made a noise of surprise in the back of his throat.

"Yes, papa. I'll be there in a moment, let me grab my bow," you ran back into the cabin, and exited just in time to hear your dad dismiss your boyfriend.

You gave Connor a brief wave, which he grinned and returned, but stopped and ran when your father stared at him.

"God, I hate Hermes' kids," he said before taking a sip of his drink.

You chuckled weakly, shouldering your bow. "Yeah..."

He walked off, and you blew out a puff of air.

Guess telling you dad about the status of you and Connor's relationship was once again put off.

--

Dionysus knew there was a problem with his eldest child, he just couldn't figure out what.

Castor and Pollux were easy, both boys barely into their teenage years. You were a different story. You showed a whole new set of emotions and talents that Dionysus couldn't figure out. It's why he and your mother hadn't worked out very long (other than the fact he was already married). You and your mother were very similar, but you were both very stubborn.

You obeyed, most of the time, but there were certain things you just refused to bend to. It was what had intrigued him of your mother, but now, while he was attempting to raise you well, it was a struggle.

But even then, you'd become more closed off. You used to greet him daily, whether it was a wave or coming up to say, "good morning!" you always gave him some sort of hello. And sometimes, you'd even join him to play card games, which is more than what he could say for your brothers.

Now though? Each morning when you walked by the big house you were talking to either Connor or Travis, sometimes even both, and it'd been weeks since you bothered to come play games, or even hang around with him.

He didn't want to say he missed you, because it didn't bother him that much. But he was a literal manifestation of entertainment and got bored rather quickly. He loved his boys, but he'd always had a closer bond with you than them. You were a form of entertainment to him, but you were also his daughter and such a shift in behavior concerned him.

Hate to say it out loud or not, he loved you dearly. You were his only little girl.

And it wasn't just the fact you'd stopped talking to him, it was the fact you stopped talking to your brothers too. Castor had approached him on the verge of tears because he'd thought he'd done something to offend you. But, when he payed more attention, he found it was because you'd taken to following the Stoll brothers around.

But teenagers did that right? Leave their annoying little siblings in order to hang out with friends? Gods, he's watched too many romance movies with you.

The number of times he's stared at a TV screen and seen the whiny little sibling snitch on the older sibling after they'd snuck out to talk with their partner should be a crime.

His thoughts flit back to Castor, sniffling in front of him because his older sister was off with Connor Stoll somewhere.

You, with Connor Stoll, somewhere.

Oh, my gods.

He stood up abruptly, just narrowly avoiding knocking over the table as he stormed down the steps of the big house. You had some major explaining to do.

It was easy to see why'd you been dating someone. He cherished you for a reason, so it isn't hard to see why someone else wouldn't. But you were still his daughter.

Connor Stoll? Really? He didn't want you dating any of these brats but there were certainly better options than Connor Stoll. Like that one Apollo boy, but Dionysus is pretty sure he's gay.

He approaches the cabin quickly, and he watches the camper's part to let him walk through. It's easy to anger a god, but it's not easy to soothe that anger.

Dionysus swings the door open and pauses. He doesn't know why he was so shocked, but he supposes it was just the confirmation that stopped him.

There were only three beds in the rather large cabin, so he found yours with ease. There was you, lip locked, with Connor Stoll. He felt his veins light with rage as the two of you jumped apart.

Connor's hand was still on your thigh, and yours on his arm.

"Hands off," he grumbled, swatting at his arm. Connor pulled back as if he'd slapped him.

"Papa!" you cried, jumping up. He didn't touch you, but he held out his arm and you understood. Quietly, you took a step back, staring at the floorboards.

He turned back to Connor, staring at him with wide brown eyes. He raised a finger to jab in his chest.

"Listen, Stoll, because I'm not going to repeat myself," he leaned back, gesturing to the space between you and him. Connor nodded shakily.

"Yes, Mr. D," he stuttered out, glancing over to you.

"Ah, ah, ah. No, eyes on me," Connor's eyes flit to him.

"If you even look at her again, I will make sure you and your future kids regret it for the rest of your small mortal lives. Understood?"

"Yes," he repeated, struggling to make eye contact.

"Good," Dionysus said and then he points to the door, "now get out."

Connor does, only after pausing at the door. He doesn't look back though, and Dionysus turns to you.

He sighs when he sees your tears, and you sniffle softly. "Y/N," he calls gently, raising his hand to wipe at your tears. You turn your head, and his hand brushes your shoulder instead.

You wouldn't dare say anything, so that meant it was all up to him.

"You know I'm doing this for you. Connor...he's just, not the right fit--"

"I loved him though!" you shouted, hiding your face in your hands, "he made me really happy, Papa, and you ruined it!" You sobbed, loud and noisy, and it reminded him of when you were young and wailed over things such as scraped knees.

"You're still young," he tries to reason, "there will be others!"

"Not like Connor," you say, "and besides, I doubt you'd approve of them either."

He pauses at that, hand hovering midair. He never knew what to do to please you anymore. You'd moved away, grown more distant, since your childhood. You'd grown up. He hadn't changed, you had.

Maybe he had to change with you.

His hand grabbed your wrists and pulled them from your face. Then, he wiped at the tears on your cheeks and pulled you close. You fought at first, but melted into the touch once he rested his hand on the small of your back.

"I just want you safe, you know that, right?" he whispered, like it was a secret.

Slowly, you nodded.

"I mean it, Y/N. I love you, and your brothers a lot."

Still, you weren't satisfied.

"And," he said, taking in a deep breath, "if Connor makes you happy then...you can pursue him further."

You jumped back, a grin on your face. "Really?" you asked, a small hint of doubt in your tone.

He sighed, "yes, really."

You threw your arms around him. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Dionysus ran a hand through his hair. "Mhm, yeah, whatever.

You pull back again, your wide grin softening into a shy smile.

"Papa, I can handle myself. I mean it. Thank you."

Finally, a smile makes its way onto his features too.

"Yeah, you're welcome."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silver Lining 12

Warnings: non/dubcon, speech impediment, bullying and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: silverfox!Bucky Barnes

Summary: You have an unpleasant encounter with an older man.

Part of the Silverfox AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You leave your things in the guestroom, feeling less than homey in the unexpectedly cozy space. You stop at the top of the stairs and listen below. You hear a door and feel cold air seep in. Bucky grunts and you hear a loud clack as he mutters.

As you descend, the noise comes clearer. You approach the wide doorway to the front room and peer inside. He kneels in front of the fireplace, setting split logs inside as he bends forward, reaching back to rub his lower back.

He takes a flyer from the pile by his knee and shreds it into strips, stuffing it under the tent of wood as kindling. He takes the long barbeque lighter and lights and end of the newsprint and leans forward to blow the flame to life.

You observe him, rapt by his diligent work. You're not very good at those things. Not much of a camper or anything like that.

Finally, the wood begins to crackle and he sits back on his heel. He stacks the leftover wood against the wall and gathers up the newspaper. He places it on top and tilts his head up to stretch his neck.

He groans as he turns, starting as he sees you standing in the door. You clear your throat and sidle through.

"Sorry, I... d-didn't w-want to get i-in the way," you murmur.

"So, how do you feel about sandwiches?" He asks without a beat, "about the only thing I got that doesn't need the stove."

"Y-yeah, that's fine," you shrug and head back to the window, finding comfort in the peaceful fall of snow.

"Ham or turkey?" He asks.

"T-turkey, sure," you say over your shoulder, "I c-can help."

You turn to peek over your shoulder. He shakes his head, "I think I can handle it." He hesitates, "you don't think I'm tryna poison ya, do you?"

You blink and give a look. You know he's joking but it's a bit dark. You try to laugh but it's more a croak.

"Kidding," he says tenuously.

"I kn-know," you reply, "sor-ry, just... still a l-little antsy."

"Ah," he nods, "I'll... be right back."

You face the window again as he strides into the kitchen. Well, this is awkward. You rub your neck as you stare out at the night, bright with the pure snow. The noise of cutlery and plates fills the silence.

You close your eyes, trying to clear your mind. At least in this weather, you know his friend won't be coming back. Mr. Rogers... the last person you ever wanted to see again. You can barely even think about him.

You'll have to tell Lisa. She'll help you figure this out. She doesn't know everything but she knows he's dangerous.

You shudder and hug yourself. You don't feel good about it, even if he is gone. He knows you know Bucky, you could run into him again. You really don't think this is going to work out. He's ruined another job for you.

"Here ya go," Bucky interrupts your spiralling dread.

You flinch and turn to him as he crosses the room. You accept the plate and look at the tall can in his other hand. He offers it along with the sandwich.

"It's craft," he explains, "I got a bunch and it's just me so... I figured after today, you could use it."

"Oh, uh, th-thanks," you take the tall can as well, "I'll t-try it."

You sit down in the armchair and place the plate on the low coffee table. You take one of the coasters and lay it down. You pop the tab of the beer and sip as Bucky disappears back into the kitchen.

When he returns, you're setting down the can. It's alright, not really your favourite. You don't really drink and when you do, you don't go for beer.

"Th-thanks," you say as he sits one the couch, a can of his own in hand as he balances his plate in his lap.

"Yeah, don't sweat it. Bit of an unexpected twist to the night but better than getting lost out there in the snow," he comments.

"I g-guess," you say before nibbling on the crust.

"So... why'd you run off so quickly?"

"I..." you shake your head and swallow. You don't know what to say. He must think you're dramatic.

"You didn't like my friend," he says, "you're shy or something?"

You keep your eyes down and take another bite. You don't want to think about it anymore. It's as if you can feel Mr. Rogers, his hand on the back of your neck, his desk under your cheek--

"Sorry, I ov-ov-over-re-re-acted," you sputter, "I w-wa-was-wasn't expect-ting h-him."

"Me either."

You focus on eating. Letting him linger in silence. You reach for the beer and slurp.

"You're worked up again."

"S-st-stop," you say quietly, "I-I-I'm f-fine."

"Don't sound fine."

"I h-h-have a st-stutter," you exclaim, "y-you don't n-need to ke-ke-keep remin-ding me."

"I wasn't meaning..." he huffs and juts his jaw out, "I'm trying to ask you if you're okay?"

"I s-said so," you snap. You close your eyes and hang your head. 

"Sorry," he apologises, again. Somehow, it doesn't help. "And I'm sorry you have to put up with an asshole like me."

"I d-d-didn't say th-that," you open your eyes and put what's left of the sandwich on the plate.

"I must be if you're trying so hard to get away from me," he sniffs, "I'm used to it. I know I can be blunt but... I thought we were working well together.”

You frown and entwine your fingers in your lap. Your heart is hammering. You could tell him right then who his friend is. Why you wanted to run. You could do it but you're embarrassed and scared and after all, you never did tell him no. You let it happen.

Your eyes tinge and your nostrils flair. You gulp thickly, "I--I-- I'm wh-what you s-s-said. A dis-dis-disappointment to ev-everyone."

"That isn't..."

"D-don't ask me w-w-why," you turn your face away as your eyes gleam, "ask him."

"Him? What?"

You cover your mouth. Why did you say that? Stop talking.

"N-nothing."

"You know him?" He asks.

"N-n-no," you grab the plate and bring it into your lap, "n-no. I--I'll h-help w-with the re-re-recording, o-okay?"

"How...?"

"Stop!" You squeeze the bread until you mush out a glop of mayo. You look down at the plate and drop the sandwich. "I s-s-said I'd do i-it. O-okay?! J-just--"

--like you told him. Just like did whatever he told you to. Just like he did whatever he wanted to you.

"Fine, alright," he raises his hands defensively, "god, you know, I'm trying to be nice and you just can't accept it."

Your lip trembles. You can't do it. You're fighting so hard and he just can't stop. You said you'd do the stupid show. You just want to change the subject.

"I... what did I do?" He's quiet.

You look at him as a tear slips out, "i-it's me," you say creakily, "I'm u-u-useless."

You stand and put the plate down next to the beer. You don't wait for an answer. He calls your name as you rush away, eyes bleary as you stagger to the stairs and grip the railing as you barrel up them. You shut yourself in the guestroom and sit against the inside of the door.

You're so stupid. Get over it! It's over so why don't you just grow up like everyone keeps telling you?

[dewedup]

Hi dear friend 💙

How about..."if you could only see yourself the way I do, you wouldn't feel this way" with my sweet sweet Rulti boys.

Besos!😘

sorry this ended up taking me a little mac, i love how your brain works and i hope i did it justice 🖤

please enjoy 1k of sad, angsty rain and swiss breaking through the pain 🥰

Rain’s hands travel the skin of his neck exploratorily, fingers brushing over the slightly protruding gills on either side of his neck. They are a light-blue colour and stand out compared to the greyish-blue tone of his skin like a sore thumb. He knows that logically, Dew used to have the very same identifying features of a water ghoul. That you can still see the shiny, silvery scars if you look hard enough. 

Sometimes he even catches Dew being slightly oversensitive to the area still, releasing a soft gasp when they’re touched the right way, flinching when he’s grabbed a little too roughly around the neck. Rain sympathizes, and knows the feeling well himself. It’s an interesting flaw in the design of water ghouls, having such a vulnerable area highlighted like a bullseye for all predators to see. To be totally at someone’s mercy if they touch them just right.

That’s not the part that really bothers Rain though, just something he thinks of once in a while. If he one day had an audience with Lucifer, he’d probably bring it up. Workshop some ideas with the Unholy One. 

No, what bothers Rain is that he’s the only ghoul with these outward markings. Air ghouls get to walk a little lighter. Their hair floats perfectly around them, like they’re perpetually on a cloud. Quintessences have captivating purple irises that seem to glow in the dark. Dew’s eyes hold a similar power, coupled with the fact that he always runs hotter than any other being Rain has had the pleasure of getting close to. Even Mountain grows cute little flowers on his body, for fucksakes. Don’t even get him started on multi ghouls. They’re heartbreakingly gorgeous, taking every positive aspect of their mixed elements and crafting perfection. He’s almost positive that if he looked at Swiss too long, he’d go blind. 

And here’s Rain, with these stupid fucking gills. 

The ones that decorate his ribcage are fine, easily hidden and if that’s the only place he had them he wouldn’t complain too badly. But the neck? Impossible to casually hide. It’s the only thing he sees in the mirror when he’s brave enough to look, the bright tone catching his eyes immediately. He feels like a lesser ghoul, unevolved, unrefined in a way. 

When he’s feeling particularly hideous, he’ll exert enough effort to glamour the area. Coincidentally, it’s more work to disguise just one part of his body instead of a full glamour. But he’s stubborn, will spend the whole day on edge and fall into bed exhausted after trying to conceal the ugliest part of him from view. 

He’s still standing in front of his vanity, hands to his neck, when the door to his room is thrown open.

“Rain! Dew and Phantom challenged us to a…” Swiss’ voice trails off as he watches Rain grip his neck self-consciously. It’s too much, the beautiful golden eyes of the multi ghoul staring right at his most vulnerable area, his gaze calculating as he takes in the scene before him. Rain’s hackles rise. The surprise mixing with the self-hatred he’s been soaking in creates an explosive reaction inside him.

“Did no one fucking teach you how to knock?” Rain spits, venom lacing his tone as he drops his hands, quickly pushing a glamour out to cover his gills. Swiss flinches visibly at the words, his eyes narrowing as his gaze still lingers on Rain’s neck. Silence eats at him, unshed tears pushing their way to his eyes. No, he cannot cry right now. He’s just angry, he just needs Swiss to leave. 

“Rain,” Swiss ventures, taking slow steps towards him. He lifts his hands, palms raised towards the water ghoul like he would a wounded animal. Rain stumbles backwards, bracing his hands on the vanity behind him. 

“Get the fuck out Swiss,” Rain’s voice cracks on the multi ghoul’s name, the anger evaporating as quickly as it comes. A single tear trails its way down his cheek. Swiss is unfazed by the quickly shifting moods, taking the last few steps to close the distance between them. Rain stiffens as he’s pulled close by a hand wrapping around his waist, leaving the comfort of the sturdy vanity behind him. Swiss reaches up with his other hand, his thumb brushing against Rain’s cheek to catch the stray tear. 

Rain’s entire body slumps, the last few lingering impulses to fight dissipating. 

“Show me, love.” Swiss whispers and Rain feels completely exposed under the golden gaze burning into him. He knows exactly what Swiss wants, debates playing dumb, but Swiss’ face is earnest, affection carved into every faint line or wrinkle. With a heavy sigh, he drops the glamour, his eyes sliding shut as he tries to hide from his own wicked thoughts. 

He doesn’t see Swiss move closer, only letting out a soft gasp as his lips press light kisses along the gills on the right side of his neck. Never pushing too hard. If Rain wasn’t hyperaware of every single thing happening currently, he might even miss the soft caresses on his sensitive skin. Swiss switches to the other side, supplying the same gentle affection to the neglected gills. 

“You’re absolutely gorgeous Rainbow,” Swiss pulls back, waiting for Rain to open his eyes before he speaks next. It’s a battle, the water ghoul fighting back tears as he cracks his eyes to peek at Swiss. The love and adoration displayed blatantly on his face punches a soft sob out of Rain’s mouth. 

Swiss coos and shushes him, pulling Rain tight to his chest, guiding his head to nuzzle in the crook of his neck. His warm hands rub comforting circles into Rain’s back as he shudders, tears falling to stain Swiss’ white t-shirt. It’s a few minutes before Rain’s breath evens out, eyes sore from crying, body exhausted, using every bit of strength Swiss offers to hold him up. 

“If you could only see yourself the way I do,” Swiss whispers, pressing soft kisses to the side of Rain’s head as he squeezes the water ghoul a little tighter. “You wouldn’t feel this way.” 

And Rain thinks, for Swiss, maybe he could try. 

[irondiotallica]

Magpie

Man, I forgot how much I actually like to write. Here's a little blurb because I am on a roll. I might write more later, who knows? I'm feeling a bit creative today. I hope you enjoy this little blurb. -Silas

[Steddie]

Steve looked at the eclectic, overflowing arrangements of knickknacks and collections. It was overwhelming in one of the best ways possible. For as long as he could remember he was surrounded by blank, beige, boring interiors and horrific floral wallpaper. Yet, here he stood surrounded by loud, lived-in, and utterly comforting chaos. 

Brick walls were mixed with pops of burgundy and black. The sofa was loved and worn; already having been used before it made its home here. The hand-crafted coffee table was lovingly covered with metal magazines, ashtrays, lighters, and law cases that served as precedent. A pair of reading glasses lay next to a copy of The Hobbit. VHS tapes lined the walls with Top Gun front and center. 

Swimming medals were lovingly hung on the wall and Steve grinned. He hadn’t hung them up and was still struck with love at the precision it took to make the frames as ornate as they were. Metal posters signed by different bands hung on the wall as well, framed with less precision and finesse, but solid enough. Steve wasn’t the best at using power tools for more than surprisingly effective improvised weapons. Besides, he had waited the hours it took to get the signatures.

Steve felt his eyes water a little at the space before he shook his head a little and wiped the tears before they could fall. He was happy. He sat back down at the thrifted table and mismatched chairs that accompanied it continuing the work he had started. His hands remained steady as he used the small, thin brush to paint the features on the little figures. They were figures of monsters that he didn’t know the name of, but he could follow the way they looked in the books surrounding him. He took a break from the monsters to work on another little figure. He grinned as he painted the little fangs white before adding the appropriate shading. He heard the front door open and a voice call out in a joking tone.

“Oh honey, I’m home.”

Steve turned to the voice, making sure to hide the vampire figure before trodding to the kitchen to plant a kiss on the curly-haired man. He kissed Eddie with fervor before reluctantly pulling away. He couldn’t get too carried away, they were having dinner with the group later today. Eddie pouted at the loss of plush lips against his own, but he grinned as Steve’s chuckle filled his ears. Steve planted a kiss on the tip of Eddie’s nose before dragging him to the couch.

“How was your day, Eds?”

Eddie fidgeted with Steve’s hands and grinned. 

“It was good,” he answered, smirking as he continued,” even better now that I'm here with you.”

Steve flushed and knocked Eddie slightly with his shoulder.

“Oh hush you.” 

Steve gave Eddie one more kiss. He grabbed his waist as Eddie’s fingers tangled in his hair and around his neck. 

Steve was more than glad to be living with Eddie in this Chicago apartment than in that big house back in Hawkins, alone, with sterile loneliness polluting the air.

[stone-cold-groove]

The future of air travel.

[bugsmunched]

Cute little dating Argyle HCs that are in my brain

He does not give a flying fuck about your body type. Like he actually could not physically care less. He thinks you're the most perfect thing in the world regardless. He spends so much of his time with his hands wandering over your body, but not really in a sexual manner. He caresses every curve of your body, traces every scar and stretch mark, kisses every blemish, and traces hearts on every part of your body. You got a big stomach? He loves cuddling you from behind and grabbing onto it gently. Small ass? Big ass? Doesn't matter. He will gently cup it when making out. He always tells you how perfect you are, and treats you like you were crafted by the gods.

he also, again regardless of body type, loves having you in his lap. Just having his arms around you and you being so close to him makes him so happy. Maybe he's sitting in a chair at his house and you're sitting in his lap while he does schoolwork. He absolutely loves it. And if you're self conscious about weighing too much? He will (playfully but still meaning it) scold you for thinking badly about yourself and then trap you on his lap so you can't leave.

This man is like a little crow and gives you little trinkets that make him think of you. Little bottle caps, rocks, cool looking sticks, lighters, buttons, keys, and so much more. He will also spend all his leftover money on things for you. Like jewelry. He LOVES seeing you wear things that he bought you. It's his little form of marking you. His favorite to give is rings. There are several on chains that you wear as necklaces because they're too big/small, but you wear them nonetheless.

He also loves making pizzas for you. When you first get to know him, he gives you all kinds of pizzas to learn your pallet. He learns all about your likes and dislikes of flavors and combinations. Then he constantly surprises you with free pizzas that you absolutely love because he just knows you so well. (there have been a few misses, but he always makes it up to you with the next pizza)

He will buy two of the most obnoxious, bright, and colorful shirts so you guys can match. He loves matching with you even if no one knows that you're matching.

He will also do the same with socks. He wants to match obnoxious socks with you.

He will get little pictures of you and put them everywhere. In his wallet, in the mirror of his van, on his wall, everywhere so he can just see you all the time. They're also specifically pictures of you smiling because there is nothing he loves more than seeing you smile. Your smile never fails to turn an awful day into a fantastic one. He would even get a locket with your picture in it because he doesn't care, he wants to be able to see that amazing smiling face of yours whenever he wants. (which is all the time)

He loves smoking with you, but if you don't like smoking, he would never pressure you. He would also make sure that you're okay with him smoking around you and if you're not he'll be so careful as to never smoke around you. If you are okay with it, he'll try not to do it right next to you. But if you also smoke? You sit on his lap, facing him as the two of you pass the blunt back and forth, hot boxing the van, a hazy fog filling the air.

He loves it when you play with his hair. He's fallen asleep in your lap because you always play with his hair when he's resting his head in your lap. It's just so soothing to him.

He does not shut up about you, to anyone. You're his favorite person, so he tells everyone about every little thing you've ever done. Jonathan is kind of sick of it, but he's just happy that his friend has someone that he loves so much.

He is the king of nose kisses. He constantly kisses your nose and also rubs your noses together to show affection. He just loves it so much and thinks it's so close.

He is also an acts of service man. But it's little things like tying your shoes, or putting your hair up for you. He loves being helpful.

Anyway. I'm thinking so much about this delightful man. 🩷

[rebelliousstories]

Seaside Wedding

Relationship: Sean Renard x Reader

Fandom: Grimm

Request: Yes by @dd122004dd

Warnings: Brief Violence, Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending

Word Count: 2,665

Main Masterlist: Here

Grimm Masterlist: Here

Sequel to: Tidal Wave

Summary: A joyous day full of love and celebration. However, not everything can sail smoothly for the group at the wedding of the century. At least for wesen.

Then the wedding was held with great pomp, but as the train came from the church, and passed with the torches before the hall, a very small ray of light fell upon the prince.

There was an air about today. An air of love and happiness that no one could dampen. Her hair had been carefully crafted to sit long on her shoulders, yet it was pulled away to highlight her face and the expertly done makeup. A long flowing gown decorated her body, pure white, and covered in lace. It was the wedding she had dreamed about for so long.

Six Months Ago…

“I’ve spent too long without you to waste anymore time.” Sean whispered as he held his lover’s hand on her hospital bed. She tried to complain and tell him that she did not need to be checked out by a doctor, but he insisted. Procuring a ring from his pants pocket, the only sign of his nerves getting the better of him was the trembling of his fingers as he held the box.

“I kept this, all these years, hoping that you would be able to wear it someday. But I can’t do this anymore. Will you marry me?” He opened the box to reveal a gorgeous ring. A beautiful Alexandrite ring, with swirls and smaller diamonds intertwined was presented to her. Letting out a small gasp, she barely registered Sean calling her name.

“Yes,” came her whisper. “Yes!” She screamed. Tackling her lover, he barely managed to keep them upright as she kept saying ‘yes’ underneath her breath. They stayed locked in that embrace for who knows how long, before finally deciding to separate to finally place the ring where it belonged. A kiss was shared between the couple as they realized what that meant, and where they were going.

Pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of a door opening, the siren turned to face her bridesmaid that had helped so much for everything for the wedding. Rosalee. Dressed in a muted sea blue gown, the Fuchsbau came in with a gentle smile on her face.

“Hey there, Ms. Bride. Are you ready?” She asked,rubbing a calming hand over the woman’s shoulder.

“More than,” she replied, ”I’m so ready to just be married and be done with this. Don’t get me wrong, I love the fact that we get to have our fairytale wedding, but it’s so exhausting. I would’ve been just fine with a small backyard wedding. But leave it to Sean to pull out all the stops.” She tried to sound like she was complaining, but the smile on her face was a dead giveaway to her friend.

“Well, if you feel like running away dramatically from the alter, just let me know. I’ll pretend that we’re the ones getting married instead, as I proclaim my undying love for you.” Rosalee teased, earring a much needed laugh from the woman. The air already felt lighter and less nervous. Another knock pulled the woman from their giggle, and the perfectly styled hair of Portland’s Grimm peaked through.

“I thought you guys were having fun without me.” He said, walking into the room fully. Over the past six months, the Grimm and siren had gotten much closer as she became less afraid of the man.

“Oh no, we were just talking trash about you.” Rosalee jested, giving Nick a big hug as she turned to face the bride one last time.

“I’ll see you there.” The Fuchsbau reassured the Tödlicheslied, who was wringing her hands together. With one last smile, she left to join her own partner at the beginning of the aisle.

“You okay? Not having any second thoughts are you?” Nick teased, but lost his smile as the woman was still stuck fixated on something in her head.

“Hey,” he grasped her shoulders gently, “you’re going to be alright. You and Sean both deserve this.” Nick tried to reassure her, and finally got to see her eyes from where they were downcast.

“What if he doesn’t want to marry me? Or he realizes that he made a mistake down the road? I wouldn’t be able to live through that.” Her words struck Nick’s heart deep.

“Listen to me, that is not going to happen.” Nick started,and forced her to stare at him.

“Sean would move heaven and earth if it meant making you happy. He’d burn the world down so that you would be warm. I know him. He wouldn’t have any second thoughts about doing anything and everything to make sure that you were safe and sound. He’s not going to wake up one day and realize he doesn’t want to be married to you. Now, I just had to calm him down, I’d like to not have to calm both the groom and bride in the same evening.” The last admission caught her attention.

“Sean’s nervous? What does he have to be nervous about? He knows I love him.” It confused her.

“Because, even when you know that you love the other person with all your heart, and want to marry someone, there is always a little nagging voice worried about if they say no.” Nick trailed off his little speech, and looked like he was lost to a memory.

“Speaking from experience?” The Tödlicheslied asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “but, we’re not here for me. Now, are you ready? Cause Rosalee might be getting a wife today.” She laughed wholeheartedly, as Nick smiled and chuckled along.

“Oh you heard that, did you?” She asked, coming down off of her giggles.

“Oh yeah. I did. It’s fine. You will make a beautiful couple.” Another fit of giggles, before Nick turned and offered her his arm. They walked out, arm in arm, and saw Monroe right at the entrance to the aisle. He smiled at the wesen and Grimm, and sent a wink their way before he walked to his seat. Rosalee turned right as the music started, and looped her arm into her other one as they walked down the aisle. A memory struck the Tödlicheslied right at that moment, before she could see her fiancé waiting at the end.

Three Months Earlier…

“What kind of cake do you want?” She asked, turning towards her lover who sat at the kitchen counter.

“As long as we have German chocolate cake, I will be alright with anything you choose.” Sean contributed, shaking off her stare.

“You and your fancy cake. Fine. I’ll be good with chocolate. I would like to have some salted caramel cupcakes. Want to do the cake chocolate and cupcakes caramel?” Bringing over the books full of cake flavors, she set it down so that he could participate.

“That’s fine with me, ma sirène.” Sean turned and rested his hands on her waist to draw her in close. He pulled her in for a kiss, and was about to deepen it when she pulled away.

“I’ve still got to get to my dress fitting with the group.” But her fiancé was not hearing it.

“I’m sure you can reschedule.” He tried to convince her.

“Not if I want to get a dress from the designer you sent me to.” She teased, and began to pull away to go get ready for her day with friends.

“Get a mermaid cut.” Sean called, and was rewarded with a slipper being thrown in his direction without malice.

In the end, she did go with a mermaid style dress for her reception. But not for the ceremony. For the ceremony, the floor length lacy gown made her feel like a princess. A tiara secured the veil down the back of her head, as she finally got into view of her lover. He stood with such confidence, and such strength, it almost made her question whether Nick had been telling the truth. But as she got closer, she saw the little tell tale signs. His shifting hands and feet, the faintest hint of sweat at his brow. He was nervous.

It made her feel a little bit better to know that he was just as nervous as her. But as she walked down the aisle with her friends, her nerves slowed down. All she could think about was the fact that she was here, about to marry the love of her life, surrounded by their friends. Each shaking step made her come closer and closer to her fiancé, lit fire underneath her feet. She felt like she was walking on pins and needles just to get closer to him. When their hands finally joined, and Sean led her closer, she felt… weightless. Like nothing could hold her to the earth except her lover.

“You look gorgeous.” He whispered, letting his eyes rake over her figure once more.

“I could say the same. You look very handsome.” She replied, feeling her hands begin to shake in his grasp. The world faded away as she stood up there with her soon to be husband. Finally allowing herself to take him in, she noticed the navy blue suit stretching across his frame, and a sea blue tie pulling her eyes back towards his chest. She could just make out the golden chain and locket that was hidden underneath the white button down, and knew that it matched the silver chain against her chest. Sean squeezed her hands enough to get her attention again, and that is when she noticed that the officiant beside them was speaking.

“If anyone has any reason why these two may not be joined together in holy matrimony, please speak now or forever hold your peace.” A beat of silence. Her breath held itself in her chest. Renard’s eyes scanned the room.

“I object!” Gasps were heard across the room as people tried to locate where it came from. An older man and woman, along with a younger set of boys who were definitely adults. As she saw who it was, her breathing stopped.

“Dad?” She could place that booming voice, even after all these years. No longer the young girl she was twenty odd years ago, her parents were not at young either, nor her brothers. Her grip tightened on her fiancé’s hands with each step her family took closer.

“We thought we lost you.” Her mother breathed, with tears in her eyes and a shaky hand on her heart, and her eyes on her daughter.

“We thought you would have learned your lesson.” Her father leveled a glare at Sean, who had stepped halfway in front of his bride to shield her from the threat.

“What can I say, I’m stubborn.” Renard shot back at the man, who just kept getting closer and closer to her. She had yet to say anything in several minutes, and was trembling like a leaf in the wind.

“Sweetie, it’s time to come home.” He tried, extending a hand out to his daughter. But she remained frozen and silent, stuck at the side of her lover.

“Please, come home sweetheart. We missed you so much. We thought you were dead.” Her mother gave it a shot, but received the same reaction from her daughter. Her brothers were calling her name, but it was too much for her to focus on.

“You’re very good at acting. But I am staying here. I’m not going back.” Gone was the sympathetic, loving, and heartbroken parents and brothers. In their place, there was a chill that ran through the room; as if the whole room had been thrown into the deepest part of the ocean with no life raft.

“You’re coming home. Enough with this charade,” her eldest brother began, “you don’t belong here and you never will. Now let’s go.” He surged forward and nearly made it to the couple to grab her, had it not been for Sean stepping in and preventing him from touching his bride.

“You’re going to leave. Now.” Renard growled dangerously at the Tödlicheslied. He backed away with a smirk and his hands raised. Making his way back to his parents, there was another beat of silence, just before all hell broke loose.

“Gun!” Someone screamed. In an instant, her brother had pulled out a gun and aimed at the couple. However, every member of law enforcement had drawn their own weapons and now had them trained on the young man. He was sent flying to the ground while his gun was checked by a man on his back.

“You picked the wrong wedding to pull this at.” Hank handcuffed the man while Wu made sure the gun was cleared and safe. Together, the detective and sergeant escorted the family out of the ceremony, as they raised a fuss over their son being handcuffed. While Griffin and Wu waited for the car to roll up to take the man to the precinct, everyone holstered their weapons inside the building. Sean felt a little out of place as he elected to not have his weapon on him for his wedding, but was eternally grateful that Nick had his as he stood at his captain’s back.

“Well, that went well.” Burkhardt commented, as he turned back to the couple. The bride was still frozen in place, trying hard to process what had happened in such a short amount of time.

“Darling, are you alright? You’re not hurt, right?” Sean inquired as he scanned over his fiancé. Her eyes were still trained on the spot where her family was just at, but pulled them away when she felt her lover’s hand cup her cheek.

“You’re still here.” She said it with such an air of disbelief. It was then that Sean realized, she was living through the last time that this had happened. Where Sean was beaten to a bloody pulp, and she was taken away.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” He reassured her, and brought her in for a tight hug. They both breathed a sigh of relief as they found themselves tangled with the other. A cleared throat brought them back to their wedding; the officiant standing and waiting patiently.

“Let’s get married.” She breathed finally. Feeling her lungs begin to work, they went through the rest of the ceremony without a hitch. The scare was over, and nothing was going to keep them from being married anymore.

Sean’s hands were slightly shaking when he slid the ring onto her finger, which made her feel better as her were as well. Words seemed to blur together as they said their vows, but two words stuck out.

“I do.” Sean said.

“I do.” She repeated.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.” Renard did not need another moment to think, before he grabbed his wife and brought her in for a loving kiss. Cheers and clapping became background noise as the couple shared their first married kiss. An hour later it felt like, they finally came back up for air. Sean leaned them both back up from their dipped position and walked down the aisle with his bride, hand in hand.

A little while later, the reception was in full swing. Music was raving, drinks were flowing, and everyone was in a blissful state of mind. Sitting at a table alone, the couple were enjoying watching their friends dance and make a fool of themselves together. Sean wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in closer than she already was.

“I love you, Mrs. Renard.” He spoke with such adoration in his gaze and tone.

“I love you as well, Mr. Renard.” She replied, and pulled her husband in for a kiss.

After all this time, being able to call the man ‘husband’, and the woman ‘wife’, was all they cared about. Her family being there may have thrown off the day a little bit, but nothing was going to get in the way of her being with her captain any longer.

[milfgyuu]

Little Freak Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x Fem!Reader Series:  Svt x Harry’s House Tags: 1.5k, Angst, Comfort. Summary: “Stay green a little while. You bring blue lights to dreams. Starry haze, crystal ball. Somehow, you've become some paranoia. A wet dream just dangling. But your gift is wasted on me.”

Warnings: mild language, moderate alcohol usage, smoking, angsty thoughts, self depreciation (han), themes of depression/mental illness (han), one-sided angst, a tad bit suggestive, there is a lot of inner thought and minimal dialogue, gentle ending. 

He can’t understand it. 

They way you could have anyone and anything in the world that you wanted. That dreamer’s imagination of yours spilling forth compelling stories only someone like you could piece together in such a way that could captivate any audience. Your soft smile and gentle eyes makes every person who so much as looks your way fall in love. You could have your pick and yet you so poorly chose whom you shared your heart with. 

He tips back his beer and swallows the bitter liquid down as if the answer is somehow at the bottom of the bottle. It’s not of course and he cracks open another, watching you from across some stranger’s kitchen. He doesn’t even know who’s fridge he’s been digging through. 

You’re sat upon the kitchen counter, talking to a group of people he’s never met and still, you’ve captured their rapt attention, the sound of their laughter distant and fuzzy in his ears. You’re the most exquisite woman he’d ever laid eyes upon, though, he hadn’t ever truly deserved it. 

What could he have possibly done to earn the right to view such wild beauty?

To hold it in his hands?

To hear such fantastical words whispered from your lips before they’re pressed against his own?

Not a damn thing. 

Jeonghan knew he was a fuck up. He’d been told so on more than one occasion. People looked at him like scum and you were the sun. He was tattoos, cigarettes, and an old motorcycle. You were like a wild sunflower, loose hair in the wind, bare feet on the dashboard without a care in the world. You hadn’t belonged together and yet, you choose him over and over again. 

When the world is telling him to stay down, you pick him up with a smile. You kiss each bruise and cut, and fix him a cup of tea. You, of all people, tell him he’s the most beautiful on earth. You take him to bed each night and willingly give yourself over to him completely. Mind, body, soul. 

He’s tried to set you free, he has. 

He’d been so self-destructive, lashing out and everyone around him and when those waves of hurt hit too closely he thought that was it. Surely, you’d see sense. You’d leave him just like everyone else and finally move on in life. You’d flourish away from his influence. 

Instead, you stood your ground. You picked up the pieces and meticulously glued him back together. You kissed his hands and knelt on your knees before him, begging him to see himself the way you saw him and he tried. For you? He’d try anything. 

Your eyes meet him across the room and time stands still for a moment when you smile at him. After all these years, you still look at him like he’d personally crafted the universe and he falls in love with you over and over. Crashing painfully to the earth like a satellite falling out of orbit. 

His heartbeat fumbles in his chest and he clutches his bottle, draining it and discarding it carelessly in the sink before he’s shouldering his way toward the back door. 

Cold air whooshes into his lungs and he staggers a step. The very notion of you simply existing in such close proximity had the power to bring him to his knees and he drags himself across the yard, falling into an old plastic chair. He pulls a carton of cigarettes out of his jacket and pulls a smoke between his lips, flicking his lighter until the end glows red. 

He’d always preferred the solitude until you came along and filled all those empty spaces in his life. Now when he’s alone, all he wishes for is you at his side. Your smile, your laugh. He wishes he were in your tiny apartment, sitting on the floor in front of the couch while you braid his hair. In your bed with your arms and legs tangled together. 

He doesn’t deserve you but you believe more than anything that you deserve him. 

The back door cracks open and the rush of noise makes his eyes close, trying to shut it out but it washes away a moment later and he knows you’ve come to find him. Can feel your aura stretch out and touch him. Hear your soft foot steps in the grass. 

He opens his eyes and you look down at him, full of love and adoration. 

“It’s a nice night, isn’t it?”

Jeonghan exhales a cloud of smoke into the air and shrugs his brows coolly, “It’s too cold for you to be out here like that. Go back in.”

Your thin shirt and shorts with the fishnets beneath do nothing to shield you from the cold, your jacket abandoned somewhere inside but you’d live. You smile, ignoring his hard look of concern. “I have you to keep me warm,” you reason with him and he puts up no resistance when you sit in his lap, one arm wrapped around his shoulders. 

He takes another puff and then reaches down, snuffing out the cigarette before wrapping his arms around you. His gaze is steely, jaw clenched. He’s been thinking again. 

You press the tip of your finger between his eyes, rubbing slow circles to get him to release the tension he holds there and he sets his eyes on you. They’re so deep, deeper than the most remote, unexplored depths of the ocean and they hold so much pain. But they hold endless amounts of love in them as well. 

He can’t seem to see it. All the reasons why you chose him but he never understood that there was no competition. You’d never once loved anyone they way you loved him and you knew there were dark, nefarious demons that lurked within him, telling him that he’d never be good enough for you. You poured yourself into him and he did the same but the difference was that Jeonghan, held himself to impossible standards. 

He brought you love, joy, happiness, laughter, comfort, safety and sometimes despair. Not for you or your relationship but for him, the very man you wished so desperately to understand his own worth. He’d gotten better at it, accepting himself and his place in your life, but there were difficult days. Days where he doubted himself but you’d always be there to remind him. 

“Let’s take the long way home,” you say suddenly, smiling up at the sky, “Just you, me, and the stars tonight.”

Jeonghan lets out a short laugh, fingers tugging at a loose hole in your stockings. “You sure you don’t want to stay awhile? Not much of a party without you.”

You shake your head. “No one in that house could care less if I left early,” you correct him, “There isn’t a single person who knows me the way you do and even less that I’d rather be with right now.”

Jeonghan’s eyes dip to your lips but you beat him to it, closing the distance. It’s nothing inherently sexual but it’s the type of kiss that begins here and certainly ends when you’re alone with nothing but the bedsheets on. Jeonghan breaks away first but only because he can feel the words burning in his chest, begging to be verbalized. 

Again, you’re quicker than he is. “I love you, Jeonghan.”

That smile, he shuts his eyes and let’s his head fall back over his shoulders for a moment, letting the words sink it, hit home. He takes them and absorbs them into his very core, letting them work their magic on his broken spirit. They blanket his insecurities, coaxing and soothing them until they fall silent and allow his heart to rest for a just a bit to truly feel your unconditional love. 

“My angel,” he whispers back, picking his head up to lock eyes with you and you’re already patiently waiting, “Falling in love with you is the most selfish thing I’ve ever done.”

“Be selfish,” you press your forehead against his, “Because I’ll always be selfish with you. I’ll fight to keep you by my side and fill you with love every single day until we die, even if I have to convince you from the moment we wake up and right before we fall asleep each night that there is no one for me, but you. This delicate point of view, Jeonghan, it doesn’t belong to you. We’re going to cast it out together, every shadow of doubt.”

Jeonghan sighs, clutching your body closer to his own and you close the short distance between your lips, kissing him tenderly, “Thank you,” he smiles against your lips, “For not giving up on me. For loving me as I am and for trying to make me love myself.”

“You’re welcome,” you grin and peck his lips one last time before getting up and tugging his hand, “Now, I do believe you owe me a ride.”

Thanks for reading! 💗

SVT M.List | Main M.List

→ Please do NOT copy, repost, or translate, any of my works here on tumblr or on any other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, Milfguu, 2019. ©️

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

New World (6)

Itachi Uchiha x Reader Fluff

Summary: The world War has met its end and Itachi has returned to his village. He questions whether he should set down his roots here when he meets a stranger. Or rather, a stranger is forced upon him by fate.

Warnings: old men and their rituals

Word Count: @justiceiswater your comment is the reason I got myself to write this chapter quickly.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

When one thinks about a Bamboo Village, one imagines bamboo being a part of every household in that village. But what we are looking at, or rather, walking through- does not do justice to the name. The entrance of the village is the endless lush bamboo trees with the freshest tone of green; grown up as if to infinity, but never preventing the sunrays from bouncing through the sturdy mesh throughout this little forest. The filtered sun rays are welcomed by your sun-starved skin, bringing a much-needed calmness to your mind as your lips curve into a smile and your eyes close to face the direction of the filtering sun.

Itachi is watching the worry wash away from your face slowly but surely. That little guarded emotion in his chest seems to have eased up a little on seeing you smile at the scenic entrance and the warming sun. And in place of that guarded emotion, another hue of something heavier- but positive- seems to take place. His mind is curious as to what is this new feeling in his chest. But his eyes are stuck on you. Those dark pupils are somewhat lighter in today's sun.

"Welcome to the Bamboo Village! Our humble home," the Chief announces from above his ride and Naruto is the first one to gasp in bewilderment. Where the bamboos end starts an entire village at the edge of a hill made structures entirely out of bamboos- bridges, houses, furniture, you name it. And at the top of the hill sits a lone structure etched in stone- a temple.

The village is lively with the happy cries of children and surprisingly melodious calls of merchants and hawkers in the marketplace. "There's the hot springs!" Naruto points to the farther edge of the village where the caravan can see steam rising by the end of the hill crafted into smoother edges. Before Naruto can break into a dash for it, Kakashi grabs him by the collar. Chief chuckles at the agitated yellow-haired ninja. "You can soak in the hot springs all want. But before that, I would like you to meet our village elders. At the temple. Come. They have been around for about hundred years now-" he continues to talk while directing his ox towards the road that leads to the temple, and the rest follow- "so it is safe to say there is no one wiser than them in our homeland. And they will be able to explain our problem better than us. And then hopefully, Kakashi, you will be able to help us." Kakashi smiles under his mask. "As long as my comrades are safe, we are willing to help in any way we can." He does not look behind him but he- along with the rest of the members- can sense the heat of guilt rising in Fukaboshi and Izo's cheeks. Itachi can make out that they do not want to be here but they cannot say no to the chief's orders after the massive blow he has given to their egos. It does make our village's assassin happy internally.

The road finally ends up to a huge staircase, where the animals are left and the caravan climbs on foot, leading to a courtyard which overlooks the mountains and hills surrounding them and a clean breath of air gently plays around the temple in the centre of it all. Everyone stands at the steps of the temple door. The Chief takes a step to the door to bow in respect, a signal for the two elders chanting hymns inside the temple to get up and be greeted by the guests waiting outside. Fukaboshi and Izo are standing at either end of the group while Kakashi is humble enough to wait at the back and let the young ones be the first to receive the blessings. But that does to stop the Konoha's silver blade from having his eyes and ears out for any movement out of the ordinary. Even though Kozuki seems to have joined him at the back with a suppressed smile that does not seem suspicious at all. Itachi, on the other hand, seems to have an itch because suddenly, you are standing in the very front with Toge taking the place next to you. Naruto standing on your other side and Nami is standing behind Toge, trying to get a good look at the two bowls being picked up by the temple monks with purple and golden beads in one hand. "Wait-" Nami sounds confused- "Kakashi that is a-" "Do not speak unless you are spoken to," Toge tuts from the front, cutting out whatever it is that Nami is about to speak. "But-" Izo shushes Nami, for which the latter takes full offence. One monk takes the string of purple beads in one hand and the other takes a string of golden ones. Both of them start to sing a deep-throated hymn as they step down the stairs. Itachi furrows his brows at the shade of fear setting in Nami's eyes. The monks have stepped down and are now standing in front of the group. The elder of the two dips his fingers in the copper bowl in his hand and takes them out to sprinkle it over you and Toge. "What's wrong?" Itachi whispers, leaning towards Nami. And suddenly as if a thought strikes her as his voice collides with her thoughts, she grabs the back of Toge's jacket and pulls him back, while at the same time using her other free hand to push Itachi forward in Toge's position instead. "WHAT THE-" Toge is hushed by the second monk. While he is trying to make sense of what just happened, the monk takes your left hand and ties the string of purple beads on your wrist. Next, he takes Itachi's right hand and ties the golden beads on his wrist. The bowl is used again to sprinkle the contents on both of you, with the hymn still going. "Can I have one too?" Naruto whispers in the direction of the monks, grinning with all of his teeth.

Kakashi can see from the back the flustered and confused expression of the chief, who seems to want to stop the monks but isn't allowed to do so for fear of stopping something sacred. Unlike him, Fukaboshi and Izo are facepalming themselves discreetly before the former- who is also standing closer to Toge- whispers through his teeth, "You had one job." The elder monk takes the string-wrapped wrists of both of you and puts your hand in Itachi's, chanting something known only to the elders. You stand there with no thoughts behind your eyes, only following what the monks do. Itachi is trying to calculate the base of this ritual. The second monk dips his finger in his bowl and out comes the index painted red, which lands on your palm to draw one single symbol. And with that, the chanting comes to an end.

Toge is breathing furiously, his face red with anger as he glares at Nami with the intent of murder. You curiously look into your palm to make sense of the symbol. The monks bow to the chief and the caravan. "Shinzo-san, these are our guests!" the Chief explains, exasperated. Suddenly a chuckle bursts out of Kozuki that slowly turns into a cackle. Kakashi tilts his head in confusion. "Did we do something wrong?" You and Itachi look at each other with a blank gaze, neither of moving your hands away. A single crow continuously croaks at the edge of the temple roof, as if he too is laughing at something. "What's so funny, Kozuki?" Naruto shouts, "And why won't the monk-sama give me these beads?" he tries to grab one in the second monk's belt. His hand is thwapped away with a smack on his wrist at the speed of lightning, the elder never breaking from that peaceful glow on his face. "Izo!" the chief shouts in anger, "is this your doing as well??!" The old man seems to be at his wit's end. Kozuki is clapping and laughing like a seal by now until her stomach hurts and she moves in front of the group to finally look at your disoriented figure waiting for answers. "Congratulations!" She exclaims with pure joy, her voice reverberating through the temple, "Uchiha Itachi and Y/L/N Y/N, by the powers vested in these old monks by our Gods, you are now officially married!!"

[lovefairymina]

Y/n is feanor daughter who is being taken from her mother (aka nerdanel) and brought to middle earth with him when she was a babe. now she is in her teenage years and staying with her brother, maglor who now is playing his harp beside her while looking at the fireplace.

"Brother can I ask you?" Asked her in doubtful tone

"What atta and amme looks like? what happened to them? You and others never tell me about them.. except about their craft..." she explained it in quiet tone.

Instantly, the chords ceased and the air became silent, save for the crackling of the firewood. His eyes remained fixed on the floor, never lifting to meet your face. “I...” his voice became faint, lighter than the wind. “It is too painful to remember...”

[is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not]

Transmission begins:

> message loading...

> loading... > message loaded

> decrypt? [Y/N]

> Y

> displaying message:

Origin: Canopus IV

Destination: Terra / Islington

Subject: Deployment of Magistracy Armed Forces for Operation TOUCHDOWN

Message: ALCON, 1st Canopian Cuirassiers have arrived at Islington. Available for tasking at discretion of Local Force Commander. Glory to the Magistracy.

Commanding Officer: Colonel Inanna Allard-Liao (see attached personnel file)

TO&E: 1x BattleMech battalion - 36x BattleMechs [8x Assault, 24x Heavy, 4x Light] (1 CANOPIAN CUIR.) 1x AeroSpace group - 18x aerospace fighters (1 CANOPIAN AIR GUARD) 1x Armor battalion - 72x armored fighting vehicles (1 CANOPIAN ARM. GUARD) 1x Infantry battalion - 448x infantry (1 CANOPIAN INF. GUARD)

> message ends

> open attachment 1? [Y/N]

> Y

> opening attachment:

// MAGISTRACY ARMED FORCES \\

--This information is not for public distribution.--

INANNA ALLARD-LIAO

Rank: Colonel, Commanding Officer 1st Canopian Cuirassiers

Assigned Unit: Command Lance

Personal 'Mech: Yaguara 'Inanna' YGR-2D-IAL

Date of Birth: 3103-04-28

Parents: Melissa Allard-Liao & Fredrik Allard-Liao [Né Richardson]

Age: 50

Listed Gender: F

Physiological Details: Full genetic modification treatment [extreme; "Animalia conversion", subtype: snow leopard] - performed @ Ceres Station - Terran System - 3119-04-28

Height: 190cm

Weight: 97kg

Eye Color: Grey

Languages Known: English (First Language),

Organ Donor: Y

Dependents: none (5 adult children)

Current Location: [Redacted]

COMBAT EXPERIENCE

32 years enlisted in MAF

7 large operations

25 deployments

22 combat deployments

[Redacted] confirmed kills

102 battlemechs incapacitated/destroyed [ranged]

69 battlemechs incapacitated/destroyed [melee]

199 combat vehicles incapacitated/destroyed

10 aerospace craft downed [ranged]

3 aerospace crafted downed [melee]

1 dropship downed [ranged]

1 dropship downed [melee]

Areas Deployed: [Redacted]

Awards: Canopus Cluster [Platinum w/ Ruby], Fist of Raventhir [3152], Bravery Medal 1st class x12, Combat Excellence Ribbon x5

> open attachment 1? [Y/N]

> Y

> opening attachment:

// MAGISTRACY ARMED FORCES \\

--This information is not for public distribution.--

Yaguara 'Inanna' YGR-2D-IAL

Mass: 75 tons Chassis: Earthwerks TDR IV Power Plant: Vlar 300 XL Cruising Speed: 43.2 kph Maximum Speed: 86.4 kph Jump Jets: Rawlings Model 60 Jump Capacity: 120 meters Armor: Hellespont cFF Armament: 1 Rotary AC/2 2 ER Large Laser 2 Medium Pulse Laser 1 Medium Vibroblade

Manufacturer: Majesty Metals and Manufacturing Primary Factory: Unknown Communication System: Tek BattleCom Targeting & Tracking System: Tek Tru-Trak Introduction Year: 3146 Tech Rating/Availability: F/X-X-X-X Cost: 27,480,250 C-bills

Overview

Proposed as part of Project BIG CAT for the Magistracy of Canopus, the Yaguara was designed by Majesty Metals and Manufacturing in 3146 as a fast moving, hard-hitting heavy 'Mech.

This custom variant, built for Inanna Allard-Liao, possesses an extremely dangerous close combat weapon - a 'Mech vibroblade, mounted on a 'Mech-scale myomer tail, in addition to most of the weaponry of the base configuration.

Capabilities

The Yaguara was built from the ground up with speed and long-ranged engagement in mind. Built around a supercharged Vlar 300 XL engine, the 'Mech can sprint over 86 kph, allowing it to keep up with lances comprised of much lighter 'Mechs than itself. It complements this ground speed with four Rawlings Model 60 jump jets, granting it a jumping distance of 120 meters for an extra mobility boost. Its armament is built around a pair of Clan-spec ER Large Lasers, uncommon in the region, and a Class-2 Rotary Autocannon, with a pair of SRM 6s and medium pulse lasers as close-engagement backups. All of this, unfortunately, comes at the cost of heat - the Yaguara was designed with bracket fire in mind, and MechWarriors are advised not to alpha strike without due cause. This custom variant was built for Inanna Allard-Liao. It is a hybrid Clantech refit, using many experimental technologies, as well as the removal of the previously-mounted SRM 6s, to allow for the addition of a custom myomer armored tail, with a 'Mech scale vibroblade mounted to the end. Complimenting this weapon are Triple-Strength Myomer and a Supercharger, to allow the 'Mech to reach truly incredible speeds for its weight.

Controlled by Inanna using a salvaged Word of Blake Buffered VDNI system, the 'Mech moves with the same fluid grace as its pilot. Advances in Belter/Canopian hybrid medical science have extended Inanna's lifespan estimate from 15 years to 75, and are predicted to have significantly extended the initial onset period for the madness which often accompanies use of neural interface systems.

Type: Yaguara 'Inanna' Technology Base: Mixed (Experimental) Tonnage: 75 Battle Value: 3,768

Equipment Mass Internal Structure Endo Steel 4 Engine 300 XL 9.5 Walking MP: 4 Running MP: 6(8) Jumping MP: 4 Double Heat Sink 15 [30] 5 Compact Gyro 4.5 Interface Cockpit [VDNI] 4 Armor Factor (Ferro) 231 12.5

Internal Armor Structure Value

Head 3 9

Center Torso 23 35

Center Torso (rear) 11

R/L Torso 16 24

R/L Torso (rear) 8

R/L Arm 12 24

R/L Leg 16 32

Right Arm Actuators: Shoulder, Upper Arm, Lower Arm, Hand Left Arm Actuators: Shoulder, Upper Arm, Lower Arm, Hand

Weapons and Ammo Location Critical Heat Tonnage 2 Jump Jet LL 2 - 2.0 Nova Combined Electronic Warfare System CT 1 - 1.5 Supercharger CT 1 - 1.0 CASE II RT 1 - 0.5 Medium Pulse Laser RT 1 4 2.0 2 Double Heat Sink RT 4 - 2.0 Rotary AC/2 Ammo (90) RT 2 - 2.0 3 Triple Strength Myomer RA/LA 3/3 - 0.0 ER Large Laser LA 1 12 4.0 Vibroblade (Armored) LA 2 - 5.0 Medium Pulse Laser LT 1 4 2.0 Double Heat Sink LT 2 - 1.0 Rotary AC/2 LT 3 1 8.0 2 Jump Jet RL 2 - 2.0 3 Triple Strength Myomer RA/LA 3/3 - 0.0 ER Large Laser RA 1 12 4.0

Features the following Design Quirks: Animalistic Appearance, Battle Computer, Battle Fists, Battle Fists, Combat Computer, Directional Torso Mount (Vibroblade), Fine Manipulators, Hyper-Extending Actuators, Improved Communications, Improved Sensors, Multi-Trac, Nimble Jumper, Reinforced Legs, Rugged (1 Point), Difficult to Maintain