#man needs to just go to bed

[obsob]

oooooooooough i love you i love you i love you!!!! hand in loving hand !!!!!!

[andy-clutterbuck]

1x04 - What We | The Ones Who Live

[b4kuch1n]

siren

[tessabennet]

I couldn’t help myself

Barbie movie MCU edition

[stiffyck]

What if people started saying "I need to exercise more" or "I need to eat a bit healthier" instead of "I need to lose weight"

You can be healthy and fat

[sneeb-canons]

Headcanon #500:

Mind is afraid that when he distances himself from or above the others, that he will be too far gone to come back down. That when his paranoia gets the best of him, he'll shut everyone else out and then be completely alone with no way back to where he was before.

Heart is afraid that if Mind is right, with the idea that what he does isn't genuine, that he's being manipulative without realizing it. Then therefore being Whole without himself there is the better option. That he'd be thrown out because his ideas would then be "not worth it" or even "vile"

Soul is afraid that no matter what he does or how good things will be, they'll always eventually split up again or even end up worse. Even then he has no clue what he's supposed to do or be during everything, and so because of that he'll never be whole. Or worse that he'll never really "feel" whole.

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 29

PREVIOUS

“Neil, why do you have Smith’s phone?” Andrew asks as the two of them are setting out plates for lunch. Neil startled and looked down at the phone that he had just sat at the table and furrowed his brow.

“What do you mean? This is mine?” Neil asks. He knows his phone even if he’s not really the best with them.

The one that Andrew had given him his Freshman year had died after it got run over by the Maserati when Neil left it on the roof of the car by accident. The second one Andrew had gotten him had been destroyed in rather spectacular fashion earlier in the year when he’d had a bit of a freak out on January 19th. The team knew better than to text him on that particular day now but Andrew had said that he’d take custody of his phone this year. Wymack had stepped in with a phone that same day before Andrew could buy him a new one and that phone had been launched at the Baseball captain that summer.

All this to say, Neil is now looking at the phone in concern because it is highly likely he swapped his with FF’s.

“No it’s not.” Andrew sighs and points to a corner, “You cracked yours up here.” He opens the phone and then the contacts and sure enough Neil doesn’t see his own contacts but the ones that Nicky had programmed into FF’s the day before.

“Oh, I guess I switched them at the hospital.” He says with an embarrassed blush. Maybe he should get a little accessory to differentiate his phone from the other ones that Wymack has gotten.

There’s a slight commotion in the kitchen, “Kevin, stop trying to add vanilla protein powder to Smithy’s soup!” Nicky shouts.

“He needs protein to heal properly! That nutritionist might just feed him a loaf of bread since he is using an outdated model!” Kevin argues back.

“Kevin the doctor said clear soup also do you want to make Smiths sick? Vanilla protein powder and chicken broth?” Aaron asks disgust evident.

“I’d use unflavored but this is all that’s in the house and I am not going shopping until this weekend is over.” Kevin argues back.

“Smiths went out shopping on Black Friday and came back unscathed. He even went out into the worst of it just to get some groceries for baking and breakfast.” Aaron says with a huff.

“He still got stabbed!” Kevin returns.

“Kevin, he was definitely not grocery shopping when he got stabbed.” Nicky shoots back.

“He needs-“

“Przywiążę cię do krzesła.” Neil hears Smith’s Grandma cut Kevin off. Her tone is so sweet just like it has been the last couple times she has interrupted an argument between them all. She really has warmed up to them since Andrew confessed.

Nicky lets out a loud bark of laughter.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asks.

“Yeah, cutting onions make me laugh.” Nicky returns quickly.

Kevin walks out of the Kitchen with the same gooey expression he’s gotten every time Smith’s Grandma has said something sweet to him but considering how often and how hard Nicky laughs at what she says he wonders if she’s just sassing him in a sweet tone.

He really needs to pick up a phrase book.

He might like her even more if his theory is correct.

“It shouldn’t be a big problem.” Neil says but he is a bit more careful as he moves FF’s phone away from where it could get damaged. “Smith is definitely asleep. He looked really tired.” Neil says and it twists his own stomach to think about how FF looked in his hospital bed. FF wouldn’t take anything more than the bare minimum when it came to pain medication.

Each “I’m fine.” He gave had him coming to a deeper and deeper understanding of how frustrating it is to have someone who is CLEARLY not fine say they are.

“I’m more concerned about who might text you.” Andrew says.

Neil shrugs, “Ichirou is more the type to just show up.” Because it’s true. Every time he’s met Ichirou there had been very little warning.

Andrew frowns but then Nicky is coming out with lunch. It was nothing fancy but a home cooked meal always made Neil feel warm. Smith’s grandma had just been using what was in their pantry so far but the two other meals (and her pie) had been amazing.

“Lunch is ready. We’ll head back to the hospital afterwards to see when Smithy can get discharged.” Nicky says putting a large bowl of pasta in the center of the table. Aaron came out a moment later with the Parmesan shaker and the protein powder bottle.

“Here you go Kevin, add as much as you want to your own meal.” Aaron says in a sweet tone just like Smith’s Grandma.

“Eat shit Aaron.” Kevin scowls now knocked out of his gooey expression as fills his plate with pasta and reaches for the Parmesan.

Neil can’t help but let out a puff of laughter at the interaction and lets the worry of being away from his phone slide away. FF was sleeping, he was safe, and Ichirou had not expressed any interest in talking to him.

“Pass that to me when you’re done.” Neil asks pointing at the Parmesan as he fills his and Andrew’s plates.

***

There had been a plan.

Nathaniel Wesninski was supposed to be at this hospital at least according to his cell phone location. His future investment was not the best at keeping that device on him though so he was willing to wait when there were no signs of the Wesninski. There would, of course, be a cost for his patience. He had his men go seek out the uninvolved civilian. If Wesninski came back and found his friend threatened due to his lackadaisical nature with his phone perhaps he’d remember to keep it on him.

Except now that very uninvolved civilian is sitting in front of him. The ’Smith’ that Wesninski had spoken of.

He sees Wesninski’s phone sat on the table and his eyes go back to the young man in front of him. He wonders if this was some ploy by Wesninski, some statement. This young man in front of him took out one of the Butcher’s top men on his own.

He’d confirmed it when he’d gone to see Jackson earlier that day. He went to remind them what would happen if they tried to turn over anything to the Federal agents and to see how two of his biggest headaches had been taken out so suddenly.

Jackson talked about how Wesninski’s friend hadn’t seemed surprised to find him in the alley, had seemed like he had been expecting it and how swiftly he had been taken out. Wesninski’s guard dog had gone out afterwards and they’d lead Romero into a trap that resulted in his arrest and this civilian swearing up and down that Romero was the one that stabbed him even though Romero asserts that he never had a firm grip on the knife.

A great way to ensure he was held by the police while they were fully investigated. They wouldn’t have much time to investigate either of the Butcher’s remnants. Ichirou was only offering the choice between something painful or something easy.

The young man in front of him offered nothing, waiting for Ichirou to begin the talks. His expression clearly showing that he’d happily wait Ichirou out as if he was long used to tense silences. There is no doubt that this man in front of him knows exactly who he is but he still has the audacity to wait him out.

“Where is Wesninski?” He tightens his fist at having to ask first.

“That’s not Captain Neil’s last name anymore.” FF returns with the first hint of expression on his face being a frown.

The first piece of information given. So, loyal to Nathaniel and not to the Wesninski line. Loyal to Captain Neil.

“Captain Neil is getting lunch.” He answers, “I’m the only one here for you to talk to right now.” He adds after a moment putting his hands on the table.

Ichirou can understand what isn’t being said.

“Does, Josten, realize you’re here?” He asks taking care to use Wesninski’s new last name knowing he wouldn’t get his answers otherwise. He has a hard time imagining the man who was so loyal to his friends purposefully leaving this one to act as defense for him.

Wesninski had been very clear during his brief phone conversation with him, “Smith was just caught up in all of this. He’s not a threat to you Lord Moriyama.” He had said voice steady and without a hint of a lie.

“In the hospital? Of course.” He returns, “Down here talking to you? He’ll probably be upset.” he says after a moment.

“And yet, you’re here.” He says mirroring the man’s own relaxed posture.

Loyal but willing to do something that might displease the one he is loyal to if it would keep them safe. Ichirou stops himself from looking to his left where his most loyal man stood. Connor had stepped in front of threats he hadn’t seen coming plenty of times, had questioned him even when Ichirou had threatened to cut out his tongue for it, and had always had the courage to look Ichirou in the eye when he explained himself no matter how injured he was or how irate Ichirou was.

It’s something rare and it seems like it is something Wesninski has found unknowingly.

“Yes, I’m here to talk about Friday night.” He says, “I assume you’ve already spoken with Romero and Jackson.” He says moving the conversation away from Wesninski. Bringing Ichirou’s attention and possible ire to himself.

A truly rare find in his world.

“Yes, let’s talk about Friday night.” He agrees.

***

What was it about the Smith family and making great food?

It was just a simple combination of canned tomatoes, butter, pasta, onions, cheese, spices and garlic but it had Neil going for a third serving. Smith’s Grandma had really made enough to feed an army and when he’d commented Nicky had just reached over and tried to pinch his cheek fat only for his fingers to find little to grab onto, “You’re too thin! Eat more!” He exclaimed before repeating it to Smith’s Grandma in Polish who nodded earnestly.

Wymack was at the table after he took a shower. Kevin was still trying to convince Aaron of all people that he should be allowed to put protein powder into the clear soup that was simmering on the stove top for FF. The dietary restrictions someone faced while they were healing from stomach surgery was no joke.

The other Dealer had dropped despite Wymack and Neil’s best attempts to get Lisa to stay. Seemed determined to head back to her small town and rejoin the family cult she had escaped from. He’d been worried about her going home but she had insisted she’d be back.

It was unfortunate but it was also Lisa’s choice.

His stomach twists wondering if FF is going to go back to Washington with his Grandma when he gets released. There had barely been a whisper of danger from Neil’s past since Ichirou had put that bullet in Riko’s head and now one of his few friends that had been entirely uninvolved in that nightmare was in the hospital because of him.

Andrew elbows him.

Neil turns to look and Andrew is carefully putting a penne pasta on each prong of his fork, “I can hear you worrying.” He says in Russian.

“What if Smith leaves?” He responds back in the same language.

“He has the right to.” Andrew shrugs and shoves the pasta into his mouth.

“I don’t want him to.” Neil admits, FF is a friend. A good friend.

“He still can leave even if you don’t want him to.” Andrew says as he proceeds to once again put a penne pasta on each of his fork’s prongs. “I don’t think he will though.” He adds before shoving his fork into his mouth again.

Neil blinks, “Why?” He asks.

FF isn’t like how Neil was his Freshman year, he’s steady and sure but Neil wouldn’t blame the Freshman if ‘possibly being killed off by remnants of my Captain’s crime family’ is a step too far for FF. Wouldn’t blame FF if he runs.

“He still calls you Captain Neil.” He says reaching over and squeezing Neil’s knee with his hand.

Neil blinks.

He thinks.

FF laid out on the concrete as Andrew worked to stem the blood from his stab wound, “It’s a weird sex alley Captain Neil! I don’t know WHAT to tell you!” He exclaims ready to make a joke even as he’s bleeding because of a situation Neil’s existence put him in.

FF still floating from the initial large amount of pain medication he was on pulling on Neil’s sleeve, “I’m glad you’re okay Captain Neil.” Before falling back into his drugged sleep.

FF’s eyes softening as Neil offered to get a nurse to give him more pain medication, “Really Captain Neil, I’m fine.” He says.

He lays his own hand over Andrew’s.

“I guess he does.” He offers a small tentative smile.

“Eat your pasta Junkie.” Andrew says in English now.

“You’re too thin!” Nicky reminds him and Smith’s Grandma must have picked up on the terminology since she nods earnestly in agreement as the two of them were packing up leftovers and the soup Smith’s Grandma had made for him so they could head back to the hospital to keep FF company.

***

“Why did you go out into the alley?” Ichirou asks.

“Isn’t it better that I was in the alley?” The man across from him asks with a raised brow, as if Ichirou was asking a strange question. “If I had stayed in the club, who knows what would have happened or how many people would have been hurt.” He explains without Ichirou needing to lower himself to asking.

There’s truth to that.

It’s been on the news that the remaining Wesninski inner-circle had been captured but since there’d only been one injury it had been largely overshadowed by news regarding the mass injury incidents surrounding Black Friday. If Romero had started had gotten the general public involved this would be much harder for him to silence the ones involved.

Still…

“This has caused me quite a bit of trouble. It does not look good that I am not the one who found them.” He says because there’d been talks from some of the old men he had yet to rid himself of from his Father’s time. They had wanted the remaining Wesninski men to be brought back into the fold but there was little chance of that happening now. Ichirou planned on disposing them after showing that they were worthless and using it as an excuse to start removing some of the dead weight from his father’s time.

Ichirou was not a man who tolerated incompetence.

“Isn’t it better that they were taken into custody like this?” The man across from him asks, “They were some of the Butcher’s best from what Captain Neil has told me. The fact that it only resulted in me going to the hospital and they were taken out by Andrew and I is one of the better outcomes.” He says.

Ichirou pauses and considers it.

The two men that those relics had wanted for their ‘competence’ and ‘ability’ had been taken out in a way that showcased what Ichirou had thought of them. They were sloppy, they were over-confident, and worst of all they were incompetent.

“Before I forget.” Smith says and his hand goes to the bulge in his jacket pocket.

Ichirou can feel Conner tense behind him and he wonders where this had gone wrong or how the conversation had broken down but he doesn’t have long to wonder about it as Smith pulled something out that was unmistakable as a toy with it’s bright yellow coloring. Smith sets it on the table between them and Ichirou cannot help the confusion that must show on his face despite his many years of training to keep his face blank.

“What is that?” Conner asks sounding utterly bewildered behind him.

“I used this to temporarily blind Jackson during our fight. I figure it would be useful evidence for you.” Smith says.

He hears a bark of laughter to his right as Michael reaches for the toy.

Useful evidence indeed.

It would be easy to show this as a sign that those relics could hardly be trusted to have an opinion in how he ran his empire. Those men they so prized taken out by a children’s toy.

This has gone to his benefit.

“So it would seem.” He finally says, “I will make sure to reward your assistance.” He says wanting a stronger hold over the man in front of him, a tie of some sort to the Moriyama family.

Smith shakes his head in the negative. “I didn’t do anything noteworthy. Whatever it is should go to Captain Neil.” He argues.

Rare find indeed.

“It will be done.” He says and figures with the additional cash flow eliminating the search for the Wesninski men, the removal of his father’s hanger-ons, and the blood he can squeeze from the family Romero and Jackson had intended to go to ( a supposedly allied family) he could more than afford to drop what his three Exy investments owed him as a percent.

His eyes shift over to Smith across from him and finds that he was even more willing to lower those percentages if he could not only drop the dead weight of his father’s empire but perhaps gain someone useful. “Still, I like to reward those who have directly benefitted me. We will take care of any and all hospital fees related to this incident.” He looks to his right and Michael nods.

Smith’s face doesn’t give much away, his pokerface was quite exceptional.

“Thank you." He accepts and says nothing else so Ichirou decides to make his offer.

“I have heard that you are studying languages.” He says.

“I am.” Smith says.

“Which ones do you know?” He asks.

Smith blinks, surprised by the question, “Fluently? French, German, Spanish, Polish, Dutch, Italian, R-“ he pauses and shakes his head, “Recently, I’ve been studying Japanese, Chinese, and some Korean.” He says strangely stumbling over a word for the first time this entire conversation.

A useful skill.

“If you ever find yourself looking for work,” Ichirou snaps his fingers and Conner had a card in his hand in an instant, consider reaching out.” He says before he offers it with both hands and is pleased when Smith accepts it with a slight bow before taking it with both hands. “I see you are also studying the etiquette.” He adds.

Smith looks up from the business card and he looks paler but Ichirou chalks it up to the fact that bowing slightly with his current stomach status likely hurt far more than he had let on. “If you don’t know the etiquette you only know half of the language.” He says and Ichirou quite likes the sentiment.

“Tell Josten that I no longer need to speak with him. Our conversation was satisfactory.” Ichirou says as he rises to his feet.

“I will do that…Lord Moriyama.” Smith says bowing his head politely.

***

The sight of Ichirou Moriyama was always going to be one that made Neil nervous.

The only good thing about seeing him right now was that Kevin had gone with Coach and Aaron in a separate car so that the two of them could continue their argument about protein powder in FF’s soup and Andrew had snagged a spot up front while Coach would have to park farther back.

“Lord Moriyama, I did not expect to see you here.” He greets head down and he almost goes to his knees if it wouldn’t have attracted the sort of attention that Ichirou hated from the public. He just hopes that Andrew isn’t scowling and that Nicky and Smith’s Grandma can keep quiet.

“Perhaps if you kept your phone with you then my appearance would not be such a surprise.” Ichirou comments idly, “Though I suppose I did have a very beneficial conversation with Smith. Quite a bright young man you have as a friend.” He compliments and Neil’s head shoots up in surprise at it.

Ichirou had spoken with FF.

FF who was fading in and out of consciousness.

“I have faith that he will not reveal anything.” Ichirou adds and Neil clenches his fist and wants desperately to ask what happened. Wants to know what state he’s going to find his friend in. “I have not done anything to harm him, you are lucky to have a…friend like that.” Ichirou says as if physical damage was the only thing that Ichirou Moriyama was capable of.

“Yes Lord Moriyama, he is a very talented and skilled defenseman.” He says hoping that if nothing else Ichirou’s desire for Neil and Kevin’s future profitability would have him reconsider doing anything in the future to FF to ensure they would have good showings for the professional teams.

“Yes, he was quite talented in your defense.” Ichirou nods, “I will reach out with details of our new deal once some affairs have settled. Take care of your friend, Josten.” Ichirou says before continuing out of the hospital.

New Deal?

Neil banished the thought from his head. They needed to get up to FF’s room and he needed to make sure his friend was okay and find out what exactly had happened.

Andrew’s hand came to the back of his neck and squeezed, “Calm down.” Andrew ordered voice soothingly blank even if Neil could feel the way his grip stuttered. “Let’s go.”

***

The Nurses were saying something about ‘aggravating stitches’ and ‘lucky nothing tore’ but it was all white noise to FF as he continues to think about the business card burning a hole in his pocket.

Ichirou Moriyama.

He’d just had an entire conversation with Ichirou Moriyama.

His stomach was already hurting from his ill advised walk but the moment he’d seen that name on the business card he had accepted his insides had been pure acid. He missed his Pepto Bismol more than anything right now, what he would give for just a single hit of the sweet pink relief.

He couldn’t figure out what was worse.

The fact that he had given over EVIDENCE to the head of a Yakuza group (was it a yakuza group or was it a mafia group?).

The fact that he’d been right in his thoughts from the abyss that the man in the cafeteria looked like a Yakuza member (was it a Yakuza or Mafia?).

The fact that he’d just seen a Japanese guy and thought ‘Oh, must be the Japanese FBI guy I’m supposed to talk to’ which means he’d still been kind of racist.

The fact that he just realized that he had Captain Neil’s phone and not his own meaning that Ichirou had been telling Captain Neil to come to the cafeteria and FF just showed up like a dipshit trying to pitch their lie about the alley.

Finally there was the fact that Ichirou Moriyama had apparently been impressed enough to offer him a spot within his Yakuza group (Yakuza or Mafia?)

Would it be weird to ask during the interview process? Is there an interview process to join organized crime? Do they have benefits? Wait a crime family is paying for his hospital stay right now. This is too much.

He considers asking the nurse to yes please crank up the pain killers and just let him slip into a nice not embarrassing coma but then Captain Neil and Andrew were rushing into his room. “Smith!” Captain Neil exclaims.

Well, too late to ask for that coma.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

NEXT

@i-have-three-feelings​ @blep-23​ @dreamerking27​ @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust​ @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace​ @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world​ @obscureshipsandchips​ @booklover242​ @whataboutmyfries​ @sahturnos​ @pluto-pepsi​ @dreamerthinker​ @passinhosdetartaruga​ @leftunknownheart​ @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead​ @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme​ @tayspots @nick-scar​ @crazy-fangirl2524​ @blue-jos10​ @stabbyfoxandrew​ @splishsplashyouropinionistrash​ @sammichly​ @the-broken-pen​ @bitchesdoweknowu​ @very-small-flower​ @ghostlyboiii​ @its-a-paxycab​ @bisexual-genderfluid-fan​ @cheesecookie​ @theoneandonlylostsock​ @foxsoulcourt​ @blueleys @adverbialstarlight​ @elia-nna​ @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner​ @nikodiangel​ @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat​ @hallucinatedjosten​ @satanic-foxhole-court​ @vexingcosmos​ @chalilodimun​ @insectsgetcooked​ @angry-kid-with-no-money​ @queer-crows​ @lillyndra​ @themundanemudperson​ @readertodeath​ @apileofpillows​ @mortalsbowbeforeme​ @hellomynameismoo​ @next-level-mess @youreonlylow​ @interstellarfig​ @notprocrastinatingatalltoday​ @percyjacksonfan3​ @queenofcrazy27​ @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares​ @spencellio @adinthedarkroom​ @harpymoth​ @sufferingjustalilbit​ @anxietymoss​ @oddgreyhound​ @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken​ @ken22789​ @atiredvampire​ @isoldescorner​ @not--a--pipedream​ @azure-wing​ @bushbees​  @roonilwazlib-main​ @crumplelush​ @foldedaces-paperbirds​ @thesenseinnonsense​ @let-tyrants-fear​ @ketchupandfries​ @legowerewolf​ @deadlydodos​ @but-we-respect-his-craft​ @cariniqe @zanypersonapricotbiscuit​ @lesbian-blackbeard​ @lesbiansupernatural​ @silvermasquerade​ @thepeachfuzz​ @minniemariex​ @kazoo-the-demjin​ @gaypomegranate​ @ji-nk-ies​ @neilimfinejosten​ @omgrubelangel​ @itsyouitsmeorpheuseurydice​ @percabethotplove​ @cozyrosykay​ @foxyatlas​ @theoneandonlylostsock​ @cindersapsecrets​ @scornedethnographer​ @hugemotherfuckingnerd​ @givemethedamnflowers​

The  requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few  different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I  promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be  something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

If you didn’t get notified on the last part it’s probably because I used tumblr mobile to post and our most beloved garbage fire site just didn’t like that.

Polish in this chapter:

Przywiążę cię do krzesła = I will tie you to a chair

[shadebloopnik]

There's just something about Floyd being unhinged in fics that just gets me.

Like yes he gets portrayed as a sweet frail uwu boi most of the time, which is also niceee and all, and would also suit his sensitive title. But then there are fics where Floyd is absolutely off the rails at times; where Floyd is nearing losing his voice being the loudest in a shouting match, where Floyd nearly bites someone's head off in anger, where Floyd tries to sneak out of his room multiple times even when his body still very much recovering from greeting his grandma, where Floyd wrestles with his brother on the floor because he's about to do impulsive sht for the people he cares about, fics where Floyd absolutely LOSES HIS SHIT

And the best part is that none of it is out of character for him at all. In fact, it'd cement his title as the sensitive one even more. Being sensitive isn't just about sad and mopey. Sometimes its about being nuts, and paranoid, and being impulsive when your loved ones are in danger and being so so angry that you'd yell and cry from the frustration. Not that he's always feral and wild- because he's def the one to mediate most of the time, but in situations where his loved ones are in danger, I just love when he's unapologetically emotional in every aspect about it, when he's sobbing and yelling without abandon.

There's something about Floyd in fics letting his emotions speak in such a powerful, feral way that gets me.

[azuries]

sees!au ryoji’s winter outfit variants: courtesy of yuka-tan

[danwhobrowses]

Okay yeah I wasn't ever gonna be contained with just one post so, Callowmoore stuff that's on rotisserie in my brain from ep.94

Long and deep looks at each other and a hug right off the bat!

When asked by Laudna if they were okay in ep. 91, Ashton deflected with 'say that again?' and 'are any of us?', but when Fearne asks they give a genuine answer and then also ask her how she's feeling, because she's been quiet and they care

Ashton, despite hurting when they're touched and exhausted so the chronic pain is as intense as the first time, still wanting to cuddle with Fearne - and feeling at ease when they do

And like, the way they were trying to articulate it implies that they've wanted to ask for quite some time, but the timing has been off or situations have gotten in the way, and they don't want to wait any longer

But also they don't ask if they can cuddle they ask if Fearne wants to; they want to, but they ask Fearne if she doesn't want to sleep alone, because her comfort is as important or more important than their own

Fearne given her past experiences with people of course thinks they mean the other kind of company, which she notes she does want (so that's not off the table) but asks if they could just cuddle - to which Ashton doesn't entirely deny either, but notes that they're tired and in a lot of pain right now so they too was asking for the same

Also the fact that Fearne, who has been in a threesome inside a corrupted haunted wood, will later flirt with a dark echo of herself, and spooned with a ghost pirate captain, got so flustered about asking Ashton that she just wants to cuddle

Despite the awkwardness they still just laugh and joke together through it, they're awkward but it's in a sweet way

All of Ashton's immediate action the second they realised Fearne was missing - similar to how they wanted to find her after the shard incident but this time in a position where they could take action - no nonsense, no pissing contest with Chetney about her scent being on their bed, "Find. Them. Now."

And then still being soft after seeing Fearne again, because all that matters right now is that she's still here. And another post I saw said it better but, Ashton never seeks to change or 'correct' parts of who Fearne is; she can still follow cute animals just next time bring a buddy along (which given how they were in bed together would imply meaning them), they love her for her, fae and all, they just want her to be safe

Not entirely ep. 94 but given how on 91 Ashton pointed out that they needed to sleep and 'figure out who they wanted to be', and then here ask Fearne to be there beside them so they could have someone to wake up to, it to me at least says a lot about what Ashton has already decided; and how despite both of them having dealt with grief and anger and helplessness by bottling it up, hiding away, and shouldering it alone, this time they both wanted to just feel at ease with each other

[cerise-on-top]

Singing Price a Lullaby

Reusing one of my favorite ideas! I actually put in the names of all the characters I write for into a random picker and I got Price! Lovely, he's earned it!

Looking up from your phone, you gazed through the window, looking at the few stars and clouds that were visible. The sun had kissed the planet goodnight a while ago. And yet, here you were, all alone still, lying in your bed as you awaited your lover to finally finish his work for the day. A torturous time, really. Although he may have been so near, you dared not disturb him in what he deemed so important. And thus you were left to your own devices for hours now, asking him whether or not he had desired some food from time to time. Truthfully, an empty stomach was the only thing to make John abandon his oh so important work. And even then, conversation was sparse, he merely thought about work, not paying you much mind. While there may be the occasional answer were you to ask a question, it was short. He may have been the captain of a prestigious force, but that didn’t mean he should neglect you like that. Even you, with your understanding nature, had your limits. But it wasn’t John unintentionally ignoring you for the majority of the day that got to you, no. What really irked you was how few breaks he took. Yes, what he had to do was indeed of utmost importance, but you’d rather have him take care of himself either way. You brought him tea and water, incentives to get away from his paperwork for a few minutes at a time.

Looking at your phone yet again, the clock read 21:23. Had it been up to you, you would have dragged John from his desk and into bed. While you may not have been as strong as he was physically, you would hold him down until sleep would take him. If you needed to, you would learn to tie knots as well, anything to get your boyfriend to rest. With a sigh, you turned off your phone, deciding that you, and him, had had enough for the night. Your bed may have been a bastion of comfort, but it was incomplete without him. And thus, yet again, you sought him out in the one place he could almost always be found.

You knocked on the door to his office and, to no surprise, John invited you in, not bothering to open the door himself, however.

“Evening, love. Can I help you?” It was late, he had been working since the morning. Evidently, he was tired, his speech a bit slower than usual. John even had the gall to stifle a yawn around you. Had you been stronger, you would have picked him up, thrown him over your shoulder and carried him to your shared bed. But alas he was too heavy. The sentiment was still very much there, though.

“John, don’t you think it’s time to head to bed? It’s half past nine pm already, you’ve been at this since ten am.”

Turning back to his paperwork, he tapped the pen against his papers. “Just a little bit longer, then I’ll stop for the time being.”

Those few sentences made you irrationally angry. ‘Just a little longer’, that usually meant he’d be at this for another three hours or so, which was unacceptable. You took a deep breath and gently closed the door behind you. However, you could not pretend to be calm any longer as you stomped over to John, taking his papers from him and scanning them over. “Spelling error. Spelling error. Did you doze off as you wrote this? Wrong use of ‘than’. Spelling error.” You put the papers down with force, it was a surprise none of them had flown off the desk. “John, you’re dead tired and mentally exhausted. I think it’s time you call it quits for the night.”

Putting his pen down, he sighed. “Love, it’s alright. This is important and the deadline is coming up soon enough. I can go to bed later. I’m not tired just yet either.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you a bit closer and resting his head against you, closing his eyes for a moment. “I’ll join you soon enough, don’t worry.”

“Stop shitting me. You’re leaving this room right now.” Grabbing his arm, you pulled him up. You had expected otherwise, but he put up no fight as you dragged him off the chair. It seemed as though not even he wanted to really work anymore this late. No one was going to burn him at the stakes for heading to bed for the night. Or stopping for any other reason. “And if you’re not tired, fine. We’ll do something else until you are tired.” What a liar. You were sure if you forced him to bed and wrapped a blanket around him he’d be gone in roughly ten minutes. Maybe even less. His eyes were only half open, and he was, yet again, stifling a yawn. “Come on, we’re heading to the living room. I have an idea for what we can do.”

For a moment he hesitated, refusing to go along with you as you were halfway through the door. John looked back at the documents on his desk, barely moving as you tried to drag him through the door. His gaze seemed almost empty as he stared off into space. He was half asleep, even while standing there. Eventually, he relented, turning off the lights and following you into the living room.

Holding onto his wrist still, you sat down on the couch, patting your lap as John simply stared at you. Raising his eyebrow, it was clear what he wanted to convey. ‘I’m too heavy for you, I won’t be sitting in your lap.’ But that wasn’t your intention either.

“Lie down, put your head on my lap.” Although he may have been a captain, he obeyed your command, no complaints from his side either. It was adorable how he looked up at you, barely conscious. You were certain he’d fall asleep eventually. However, maybe, just maybe, you could convince him to go to bed without him actually falling asleep in your lap. You wanted to sleep in your bed as well, after all. All of this could have been avoided if only he would take better care of himself. You’re going to scold him for that, but it could wait until tomorrow. For the time being you ran your fingers through his hair.

“What are we going to do now? Watch the telly?”

“Quiet, my dear. I’m thinking.” What you were about to do was kind of embarrassing. You were only really used to singing to yourself when no one was around. But you always found your voice to be quite soothing. In fact, you could sing yourself sleepy with certain songs as well. It was a blessing and a curse. You hoped you wouldn’t start yawning throughout it. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as unlikely as one would think. Still, you’d give it your all. But what to sing? You wanted to go for something a bit nicer.

Eventually, you settled for a song, looking away from John for a bit before starting to play with his hair again. He never looked away from you, taking in all of your features, regardless of how many times he had seen them.

Your voice wasn’t overly loud, it wasn’t overly high pitched either as you sang. Still, you felt a bit embarrassed, avoiding John’s gaze. It seemed almost humiliating to you, singing in front of someone else after years of not doing so. But it would take John’s mind off of things, you hoped. Your little performance was nice, you could feel yourself relaxing a bit as well.

I think I found a flower in a field of weeds

I think I found a flower in a field of weeds

Searching until my hands bleed

This flower don't belong to me

I think I found a flower in a field of weeds

I think I found a flower in a field of weeds

Searching until my hands bleed

This flower don't belong to me

This flower don't belong to me

Why can't she belong to me?

Slowly, you could feel your eyes getting a bit droopy as well, a yawn coming along with the feeling. Still, you ignored such for the sake of continuing to sing. John shifted in your lap, laying down on his side as he nuzzled into your stomach. You couldn’t tell if he was actually enjoying this, anxiety building up in your chest. However, you had already started, it would be a shame to stop now.

Every word, every thought, every sound

Every touch, every smile, every frown

All the pain we've endured until now

All the hope that I lost, you have found

He wrapped his arms around your middle and sighed contently. Maybe your anxieties were unfounded after all. It wasn’t often he’d sigh like that, only when he was really comfortable. For a moment, you dared to look at him. His eyes were closed and he seemed happy.

Every word, every thought, every sound

Surrender

Every touch, every smile, every frown

Surrender

All the pain we've endured until now

Surrender

All the hope that I lost, you have found

His breathing was shallow and calm. Has he fallen asleep already? You would have preferred it if he had fallen asleep in your shared bed, but you supposed this was better than nothing. You could always just take a nap tomorrow.

I never had the nerve to ask

Surrender

Has my moment come and passed?

Surrender

I never had the nerve to ask

Surrender

Has my moment come and passed?

Surrender

I never had the nerve to ask

Surrender

Has my moment come and passed?

Surrender

I never had the nerve to ask

Your little performance was over now. You had found yourself to be quite tired yourself, but dared not to move in fear of waking John. Yet, eventually, he stirred awake, in spite of you not moving a muscle. His slumber didn’t last very long, if he had even slept in the first place.

“Beautiful, love. How come you never told me you could sing like that?”

“Well, it is a bit embarrassing. Even though I really do love singing. Anyway, go to bed, you stinker. It’s late and you’re tired.”

John sighed, but got up reluctantly. Having pulled you up with him, he linked his arm with yours. You were ready to hold him given how he swayed from left to right as he walked. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. You should sing more often. I’d love to hear you sing again sometime.”

“W-well, I’m sure that could be arranged… We’ll discuss that tomorrow. For now we’re heading to bed.”

“Wouldn’t dream of going anywhere else at this hour.” What a jester. Had you not intervened then he’d still be working away at some boring papers. But you were proud of him for complying. He needed that rest, after all.

You weren’t sure how long it took for him to actually fall asleep, but you could have sworn you heard light snoring the moment he hit the bed. In fact, he wasn’t even moving anymore, it was you, who had to drape the blanket over the both of you. But you didn’t mind. With a gentle kiss to the top of John’s head, you settled down for the night yourself, nestling into the blankets and getting comfortable. Eventually, you, too, fell asleep, tired from singing the lullaby.

[cyberdragoninfinity]

[spoilers for nope (2022) ahead]

it’s been a couple days since we saw Nope and Oh My God I Cannot Stop Thinking About Jean Jacket. it’s a ufo. it’s an alien. it’s a force of nature. it’s an animal. a wild animal. a hungry, territorial, untameable predator. it’s a spectacle. an object of attention, obsession. an exploited show pony. a must-see event. with its gigantic screen-shaped eye it in itself IS a horror movie, a theater of billowing, constricting curtains and played back screams. it’s the viewed. it’s the Viewers. it’s the lens of the camera watching, capturing the image, of a black man on a horse. it’s an eye. it’s a mouth. it’s both, good god, it’s both. it ravenously consumes all who looks upon it and all it looks upon in return. it’s the perfect kind of movie monster that we as an audience are so horrified to look at, but the monster, in so many ways, is also us. it’s just us. we’re looking at a reflection, and it startles us, scares us. just like lucky at the beginning of the movie.

and it’s just fantastic.

[mcdannowave]

There's too many things to look at in just one gif...

Giant biceps?Tattoos?Chest hair?

Low hanging trunks? The volume of the front of those wet low hanging trunks? The volume of the behind of those wet low hanging trunks?

The V-line and Abs?The Happy trail?(Even the armpits, if it floats your boat)

[eighthwholove]

A very happy birthday to Paul John McGann, born Saturday, November 14, 1959!

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Hemisi hugged herself worriedly as her parents approached her. Ganondorf wasn't entirely sure what was bothering his daughter - things had been tense since the attack, but he had just ensured peace by swearing fealty to Rauru. This was supposed to be a moment of reprieve, a time for his family to not worry as he prepared for the future.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Nabooru asked before he could.

"I haven't found Link," Hemisi said, her voice anxious. "I've been looking everywhere for him. The guards won't really tell me much."

Ganondorf fel this ire rise. The guards likely were trying to protect Link, but they had no right to refuse information to the princess of the Gerudo. Such a slight would not be ignored. Not to mention he too wanted to know where the boy was.

"Leave this to me," he said crisply, walking away.

It didn't take much time (or threatening glares) to get what he needed. Link, apparently, was on a place called Thunderhead Island, one of the Zonai lands in the sky.

"Thunderhead Island?" Nabooru repeated after Ganondorf reported back. "We'd need a construct to get us up there, right?"

"Yeah," Hemisi answered. "Link's told me about the islands lots of times. Not many are allowed on them - it's usually just the royal family and the Sheikah."

"They'll allow me," Ganondorf rumbled, crossing his arms. "I am a king."

"Yes, but that island is also fairly volatile," Nabooru argued. "I'm better with lightning magic. I should go."

Personally, Ganondorf was far more inclined to go retrieve the boy himself, but he didn't contest the matter. Nabooru seemed rather set on the issue, and some things weren't worth arguing with her. As much as he admired her determination, he also knew she would fight him for so long that Hemisi would probably just sneak off to do the deed herself, and neither parent wanted that. The girl's abilities with lightning were formidable, but she would likely cause trouble if she went alone.

"Very well," he conceded. "We'll be waiting down here."

Nodding, Nabooru grabbed a cloak and headed towards the nearest construct. At activated at her approach, acknowledging in a mechanically musical chime, "May I help you?"

"I need to get to Thunderhead Island," Nabooru said.

The construct's reply was quick as ever. "That place is restricted."

"I am the queen of the Gerudo," Nabooru replied. "I have special access."

The construct paused a moment, processing, before noting, "I will need authorization for you to go there."

"This is an emergency," Nabooru argued. "You can speak to King Rauru about it afterwards if you please, I don't care, but one of my family is up there and I need to find him."

Although the construct was programmed to gate keep, she also knew giving a sense of urgency or danger would override its usual algorithm. Predictably, the construct questioned, "Is someone in danger?"

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "That's what I'm trying to find out."

The Zonai machine was silent for a moment before giving an admission. "This line of logic is acceptable. I will transport you to Thunderhead Island and report the matter to King Rauru."

"You do that," she sighed. It didn't really matter of Rauru knew. Nabooru wasn't exactly keen on causing a stir within hours of Ganondorf swearing his loyalty, especially given their history, but something Hemisi's anxiety and Link's very obvious disappearance was definitely concerning. Considering the ceremony that had just happened and the celebration that had followed, Link should have been one of the first people they saw.

The construct extended its hand in front of a stone circle, and the familiar green hue of Zonai technology activated, glowing in the circle's center. Nabooru stepped forward, letting it transport her, closing her eyes as her world shifted. The air grew much colder, even more frigid than she was expecting, and she suddenly felt a little short of breath. Goddess, she'd thought the Highlands were chilly. Why was the air so much stranger here? She was shocked into opening her eyes as her cloak was immediately bombarded by a wave of rain, thunder rumbling all around her. A circular fountain of water was in front of her, surrounded by stone architecture. She walked forward, off the platform on the ground that had received her. She needed to set to work soon, already feeling a little lightheaded.

A few steps ahead it became apparent that this island wasn't just an island, but an entire chain of them. Nabooru glanced around hesitantly, looking for some kind of Zonai device to help transport her from place to place, and found none. What was Link doing here? Where was he?

Nabooru looked between pillars, on and under benches, until she'd thoroughly searched the island she was on and the few she could see. But a flash of blonde caught her attention just as she was starting to wonder if Ganondorf had been wrong, and she squinted against the rainfall to see a teenager sitting on the ground, knees tucked into his chest, wearing the attire of the palace guards combined with a headdress and Gerudo earrings gifted to him by his betrothed.

Clamping her jaw shut against the tremors that tried to make her teeth chatter, Nabooru wrapped herself more tightly in her cloak, she found a set of stairs that at least connected to this little island, moving quickly down them. Link, for whatever reason, chose to sit outside a small building, ignoring a construct nearby that was tending to a tree. The boy was soaked to the bone, red skin paint that usually adorned his exposed arm having long been washed away from his tan complexion. His red eyes were dull, hidden under platinum blonde plaits plastered to his forehead. The sparkling splendor of the Gerudo headband and earrings was dulled considerably, and his top knot was half undone in the rain.

"Link," Nabooru called a little loudly so she could be heard. "What are you doing out here?"

Link didn't seem to react all that much, or at least it wasn't apparent in this awful weather. But she heard him mutter, "You're not supposed to be here."

"Nor should you be here," Nabooru accused mildly, walking towards him. She paused short of reaching him, seeing him clam up even more. "News of our arrival has been known for at least a week. Yet on the day that Ganondorf creates peace between the Gerudo and Hyrule, you hide from us? Hemisi's been looking for you."

"Ganondorf attacked Hyrule." Link's words were sharp, dark. He was clearly still upset about the molduga assault.

Nabooru sighed. This really wasn't the place to be having this discussion - she was freezing and dizzy, and if he got any more soaked the boy would practically be a Zora. "Yes. He did. You know him, sweetheart. He likes to test his boundaries before he concedes to them. But he's conceded."

Link tucked his chin to his chest, looking away.

"Honey, the fight is over," Nabooru pressed on, stepping closer to him. "And for the first time, the Gerudo now have an alliance with Hyrule. We're a part of it - this would mean you and Hemisi don't have to hide your relationship from the public eye anymore, that there is nothing to hide anymore. This is a joyous occasion, not a reason to be moping in the rain. Come down with me so you can be with your family, love."

She finally cleared the distance between them, crouching down and putting a hand on his shoulder. Link glared moodily at the lands below, eye lashes dripping with moisture. Quietly, almost to himself, he said, "Ganondorf never concedes."

"Well, he did," Nabooru emphasized slowly. Link had not been included in the discussion of their attack on Hyrule, had been completely blindsided as Ganondorf had suggested he and Hemisi play and explore near the mines that day so they wouldn't be involved. Nabooru knew that as a member of the Sheikah tribe he would likely take it harder than most Hyrulians, but she hadn't expected quite the grudge he seemed to be holding. "Come on, love. You're freezing."

Lightning struck a small spire at the top of the building they were sitting near, making Nabooru straighten up and prepare for another strike. Thunder clapped so loudly it made her chest vibrate. Link sighed, slowly pushing to his feet. He must have been sitting for some time, swaying a little unsteadily, and Nabooru put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him inside the structure. Constructs were indoors, stoking a fire, and she approached one. "Can you take us back to the Royal Plateau?"

The little machine beeped in the affirmative, guiding them to a hover platform that sent them back to the originating island. Nabooru's hands were on Link's shoulders the entire time, feeling them tremble under her, and she pulled him close so they could share her cloak. His skin was ice cold, making her inhale sharply a little when he brushed against her exposed arms and abdomen. A headache was brewing in her forehead, and she was certainly ready to leave this dreary place.

When the pair teleported back, Ganondorf and Hemisi were there waiting for them.

"Link!" Hemisi exclaimed, rushing forward and dragging him into a hug. "You idiot, why are you soaking wet?! Where've you been?!"

"Hon, can you spare your robe?" Nabooru asked, still holding the boy to her.

Her husband complied without question, pulling off his dark outer robe and holding it out. The parents exchanged Link, one set of arms to the other, and the boy was wrapped up and held against Ganondorf quickly. He didn't argue, he didn't protest, he didn't speak as Hemisi bombarded him with questions. The king and queen exchanged a look, and the family moved towards their provided quarters in the palace.

Eventually, Link started to speak softly to his betrothed, seeming less agitated with her, and soon the two were both cuddling under Ganondorf's large garment. Nabooru moved to fetch servants so they could get him fresh clothes and some warm food, and Hemisi moved quickly to the task as well, saying she was going to grab towels.

That left Ganondorf and Link.

"So were you up there sulking the entire time since the assault?" Ganondorf finally said, getting to the point as he knelt down to the boy's eye level.

"No." Link's reply wasn't quite snappish, but it was certainly sharp, though not nearly as sharp as his eyes. Ganondorf smiled at the fire in them, the anger and force of will that refused to bow down to anything. "Just for your arrival."

"If you thought we wouldn't find you, you clearly don't know us as well as you should," Ganondorf noted with mild humor, pulling the robe over the boy's head to dry his hair. He carefully removed the pins and tie holding the top knot, tucking them into a pouch on his belt. Link didn't protest, though his gaze did drift to the floor, softening, showing the wound he'd been bearing in his heart. Ganondorf felt... more than a little exasperated, but he'd known the boy would be upset. Still... "Hold whatever grudge you wish against me, child, but do not share your ire with Hemisi. She didn't know about the attack. I suggested you two be near the mines that day for a reason."

Link sighed heavily, closing his eyes.

"The fighting is over," Ganondorf emphasized, putting weight in his voice to end this pointless adolescent moping. Then he smiled. "And now the world can know your place in our family."

The boy glanced up, hope shimmering in crimson orbs, tempered by an intelligence he often hid behind innocence and silence. "Why did you do it?"

"Why did I attack?"

"No. Why did you give up?"

"I don't give up," Ganondorf retorted a little irritatedly, pausing his ministrations.

"I know," Link immediately acknowledge firmly. "So why? You don't acknowledge defeat."

"Oh, Link," Ganondorf hummed with gentle amusement, proud of the boy's insight. He was going to make a good prince. But it would make the next months a little difficult if the king wasn't careful. "A strong warrior refuses to give up, but a wise one knows when he is defeated. I am both. It's pointless to fight a force you cannot win against."

Link still looked skeptical, confused. Ganondorf added, "How else could we build peace for you and Hemisi?"

His words seemed to catch the boy off guard. For a moment, Ganondorf really wondered if Link didn't actually think they cared, despite having spent over a year being welcomed into the family. For a moment, the king wondered if the boy really was that dull, or somehow he and his wife hadn't done something right. And then Link bit his lip, shivering, and hugged himself, clearly trying to contain emotion and not quite succeeding.

Ganondorf sighed, letting the boy be vulnerable for a moment. He pulled him close, and Link sank into the embrace, curled in against his chest.

Link would be a good prince. Ganondorf knew this. He just needed to hone the boy a little more, reassure him and teach him, let him enjoy his time with Hemisi. A war was brewing soon. It was best to enjoy this time while he could.

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

could i offer you an L in these trying times?