#this is the most run on sentence post i've ever made and i will not apologize for it

[ilovedthestars]

the absolute BEST part of finally reading imperial radch (i finished the ancillary trilogy!!! and turns out there's MORE?!) is getting to go back and look again at all the funny posts and stunning fanart that have been slowly convincing me to read it. this was how i got into murderbot first too (saw so much fanart and meta about it on tumblr that i had to read it, instead of the other way around) and even though it had its downsides (i spoiled myself on all the good twists in murderbot lol) i genuinely think this might be the best kind of media experience for me in terms of excitement and fun. because i know in advance that people love it and there's a community already built around it that i can dive into right away, and often i've already had some emotions about the characters just from seeing some gorgeous fanart, so when I get to those characters or scenes they hit even harder because i already care about them. and then i get to go back and look at all those things with fresh eyes, and understand all the layers of meaning now that i didn't get before, and that is so satisfying and rewarding to me.

anyway, hello imperial radch fandom!!!! i'm here now and i'm going to spend the next couple days shouting in the tags of all the cool fanart that made me read the books (thank you thank you thank you to @grammarpedant who started putting an excellent stream of imperial radch posts on my dash the second i finished the trilogy, you are the sweetest ever <3). i may already have a fanart idea of my own sketched out and it might be very ambitious and i may be considering actually teaching myself how to use clip studio paint for it. if there's fanart or fanfic you think i HAVE to see then send it to me please (even if we are strangers, it's not weird, i will think you are so cool!) (person i don't really know who already DM'd me an imperial radch post when i mentioned it the other day: i think you are so cool) i am going to see if i can ride this enthusiasm far enough that it becomes a long term obsession.

[disabled-cat-in-a-cowboy-hat]

ME, MY DISABLED PARTNER, AND OUR PETS ARE GOING TO DIE IF PEOPLE DO NOT START MAKING IMMEDIATE MEANINGFUL EFFORTS TO HELP US.

We need immediate emergency relief. But everyone pretends I don't Exist.

I am so. Tired. Of writing these posts. They never go anywhere. They never do any good. People never seem to care.

I have stopped writing posts because I am always too sick, now. I am too sick to get out of bed and I AM ACTIVELY DYING.

I LITERALLY HAVE SKIN CANCER AND A HERNIATED DISC IN MY NECK CAUSING SEIZURES AND THREATENING TO LEAVE ME PARALYZED AND I CANNOT EVEN GET PEOPLE TO DONATE ENOUGH TO FEED MYSELF OR AFFORD MY MEDICATION MUCH LESS GO TO THE DOCTOR OR PURSUE TREATMENT

I haven't been able to afford my medication since NOVEMBER and nobody cares except for 1 or 2 people who can only afford 20 here & there which doesn't cover my $1500.00/month medication & I am at the point of risking Death every single day.

I have done LITERALLY EVERYTHING IN MY POWER TO HELP MYSELF AND IT ISN'T ENOUGH. Texas holds EVERY BAR deliberately out of reach of the disabled, trans, and mentally ill-- and I fall into every single category. I am fully disabled, handicapped, autistic, trans with suicidal dysphoria-- and I had my gender affirming care ~ripped away~, and own a uterus which is basically a death sentence in this state, now. The system is completely backed up, has been since Covid, all applications have been on hold for basically 3 years, now. And, yeah. People decided to Kill me.

PEOPLE ARE BEING STOLEN OFF THE STREETS, HERE.

But no one can seem to handle caring, reblogging my posts, offering advice that actually applies to my circumstances (most people spout some highly ignorant 'got mine' bullshit when I have clearly stated that I have already sought every possible government means and was basically told 'hurry up and die already'), or making an effort to proactively help me SEEK HELP from others.

I was thrown on the streets to die homeless in winter. I am HOMELESS, bouncing from place to place, and I have run out of places to bounce. I have NOWHERE to go. I have NO FRIENDS. I have NO FAMILY. I have NO support group. I have NO insurance. I have NO doctors. Yet

all people do is scroll.

Please. HELP ME.

DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW ABJECTLY TERRIFYING IT IS KNOWING THAT PEOPLE WHO HAVE THE MONEY FOR CANCER TREATMENT RARELY SURVIVE BUT YOU DON'T EVEN GET TO START TREATMENT BECAUSE YOU HAVE NO FRIENDS, FAMILY, SUPPORT GROUP, TRANSPORTATION, INSURANCE, OR MONEY???!?!

If you have ever liked a piece of art I've made, or a meme, or a video, or a stream, why do I not deserve to live????? Do you literally think I deserve to DIE-- literally DIE-- because I am disabled??? Because that is PRECISELY what my ableist & transphobic ex-friends & family have decided, and they are getting away with it. Why.............???

-> Ko-Fi | PayPal | Art Shop | Aether Adoptable

[snowblossomreads]

Day 23: Under the Tree

Pairing: Severus Snape x Fem!Reader

Summary: Severus comes home to his living room looking much different than he left it thanks to [Y/n].

Tag(s)/Warning(s): fluff!, decorating for loved one, mentions of childhood poverty, kissing, mostly just cuteness

Word Count: 1.3K

A/N: Ekkk I'm posting this kinda late after running aroundish so apologize for anything with wacky grammar or spelling haha! But enjoy this cute little fluff with Snape!

"What in Salazer's name-! [Y/n] what is all of this?"

When Severus had left early that morning to attend to some business, his sitting room was under decorated as it usually was all year round. That meant piles of books were littered here and there and on the shelves that lined the wall. His typewriter sat on a little table with manuscripts he had been working on for a while. And piled high next to it, were more books along with his chair that sat next to the fireplace.

Yet, when he had returned and stepped into the room he was startled when he was met with the sight of a Christmas wonderland. Nothing had technically been moved, but things had been added to the space. 

Take for instance, the strings of garland that hung on all the shelves and across the fireplace with little holly leaves attached to them. There were also four green and silver striped stockings on the mantle of the fireplace, all of them evenly spaced out from one another.

Also, how could he forget about the tree that was half as tall as the bookshelves? Decorated with little colourful lights that twinkled and would slowly change colours, it also had been wrapped in some gaudy tinsel along with tiny ornaments that hung from the ends of different branches. The tree was insanely bright and much more colourful than most things in the house, and under it were a few gifts wrapped neatly. Before he could look for any more changes in the room, [Y/n] appeared in the kitchen doorway with a bright smile and an apron on.

"Severus!" She beamed as she wiped her hands on her apron and made her way to him with a warm smile. "Welcome back! Do you like what I've done with the place?" She asked, turning around to admire her handy work. "I figured since it's our first Christmas together it should be more festive feeling and I just couldn't help myself. I hope I didn't go too overboard though."

She had thought it a shame that they hadn't decorated for Christmas with how close it was and as it got closer it just didn't feel right to not have something festive looking in the house. So when Severus had left that morning, [Y/n] decided that their first Christmas wouldn't be complete without a tree and some decorations.

So she made her way to Hogsmeade and gathered as much decoration as she could find in the short amount of time that she had to pull what she had in mind. The hardest thing was to get a tree sent over quickly and discreetly. Thankfully it was a handy thing to be such a skilled witch as her as with one little wave of a wand, the miniature tree that she had found easily became a midsize one and large enough to fit all the decorations she had bought.

She had furiously decorated the whole room not stopping until everything was done as she wanted to give him a surprise. Once all the decorations were up, she quickly ran to place the presents that they had bought for one another underneath it. Was it a temptation to take a peek at them, absolutely but she didn't!

"I think I did amazing with the time crunch I had, but you're the wizard I need to impress! Soooo how'd you like it?"

"[Y/n] I-." He started, but stopped in mid sentence causing her to look at him and notice the slightly shocked expression on his features.

He didn't quite know what to say. It had been years, since he had seen the room like this. Alive with so much colour and cheer, that when he thought of it, he actually didn't believe that he had ever seen it so full of life.

As a child, when they decorated, and that was if his parents could afford to, they would only usually have a tiny tree that had already lost a lot of it's needles. The lights were not colorful just a bright white with missing bulbs here and there, and there would usually be two or three things under the tree if anything at all.

So to see so much Christmas in his home, had his heart swirling with emotions that he still had a hard time coming to terms with. It all felt so new that all he could do was sit in silence for a moment as he took in what [Y/n] had done for him.

"Severus?" She questioned, unsure if the silence that was between them was good or bad as he had not yet voice an opinion either way.

She had been nervous about her whole decorating scheme and him not answering her made her stomach twist uncomfortably as she thought she had done something wrong.

"Oh gosh I've messed up haven't I? I debated on telling you but I thought it be a fun surprise," you know?" She babbled nervously, wringing her hands on her apron while trying to explain her reasoning. "I know you don't  like your stuff being moved about so I tried to work around it, but I just thought it be nice for a spark of colour to light the place up. Not that I don't like it as it is! It's just-."

She didn't get to finish her rambling explanation because before another word left her lips, Severus had wrapped his arms around her in a hug and his lips were pressed against hers in a gentle yet passionate kiss.

All of the worry she had about overstepping instantly melted like snow on a warm day and she was kissing him back with the same passion. Arms wrapping around his waist to keep her from falling over at how good his lips felt against hers, she couldn't hold in the moan that left her throat as he kissed her over and over until she was breathless from his affection.

"It's beautiful [Y/n]," he husked in that rich baritone of his as he finally pulled away from her lips leaving her a bit light headed. "Absolutely wonderful. A Christmas wonderland is not what I expected when I came but it is wonderful present either way."

His approval had her heart soaring, while also causing her to relax in his hold now that she knew his silence wasn't because he was crossed with her. Letting out a breath of relief, [Y/n] shuffled in his hold so that her back was against his front and she delicately took his hands so that he would lace his fingers across her waist.

Leaning back, they both gazed at the room for a moment, admiring her handy work at making everything so festive in such a short amount of time.

"Well good," she sighed out as his arms tighten their hold against her as he leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "I was scared that you were going to hate it but it makes me feel better that you don't. And also I think the lights on the tree are lovely and I would hate to take them down."

"Mhmm, they are quite lovely, but for what it's worth," he whispered huskily in her ear, a sound that made her shiver in his arms. "I think you are the brightest light in this room and in any other."

His compliment caused an involuntary smile to bloom on her lips as she turned around to face the man she adored so much. A tiny smile was on his thin lips when she looked at him, yet it was his dark eyes that were alight that seemed to tell the story of how happy he was.

"Oh Severus I do love you," she whispered as she went to stroke his cheek, causing his eyes to soften at her.

"And I love you, darling, thank you for this," he responded before leaning down and kissing her once more as they were surrounded in their little wonderland.

[artsyunderstudy]

Spicy Sunday

Thanks for the tags this morning @thewholelemon @cutestkilla @emeryhall @hushed-chorus and @forabeatofadrum !!!

I dont have new words yet. Between work and family, I just haven't had time to focus on it, but I am hopeful to have the last chapter of Fragile Bones wrapped up soon.

Always feels a bit like cheating to post stuff from fics that are already on AO3 but whatever I wanna participate in post-EGF spicy Sunday. With two spicy offerings. One from my EGF and one from Fragile Bones. Way more than 6 sentences.

Your Fragile Bones are Mine

The shirt still holding my arms together above my head goes tight as he claims my mouth again, and I think he’s braced his hand between my wrists. He’s pressing the taut fabric into the pillow. It causes my wrists to snap together, even more tightly bound. Heat blooms inside me, between my legs, in the yawning space of my chest. “Baz,” he whines into my mouth. I can’t touch him, I don’t have my hands, so I kiss his cheek and then drag my teeth over the spot. “Baz, I want you.” “I’m here.” His mouth is wide and wet. The rhythm of it is a frenetic push and pull. I latch on and I bite at his lips. His hips are rolling over mine, deliberate, long thrusts, and I can feel how hard he is through the fabric of our trousers. How much he wants me. I try to brace my feet on the mattress so I can meet him. I want him, too. I’m sure he knows. My Simon. I missed him so much. “I need you,” he repeats between hungry kisses. “I need—”

Past SIMON I need to find him.

The Art of Letting Go

“Are you okay?” I ask quietly. I touch the back of Baz's head, running my fingers through his hair to untangle it. He nods slowly. I take an unsteady breath. “Do you want a bath? Tea?” He shakes his head, just as slowly. I keep petting his hair. It’s a moment before he finally speaks, and his voice is wrecked. “No, I just—” he groans softly and nuzzles in closer. “I need to come. Please.” “Anything you want,” I murmur, kissing the side of his head before laying him carefully back against the pillows. He’s all loose muscles, soft and pliant as his arms drop away from my shoulders. I comb his messy hair away from his face. I made a mess of him, so I grab the edge of a sheet and wipe him mostly clean before leaning in to lick the rest of it off, trailing my tongue with open kisses. He sighs pleasurably at the attention. “Look at you,” I tell him again, reverent and hushed against his skin. He's the most precious thing I've ever had under my hands.

Tags under the cut!

@shemakesmeforget @stitchyqueer @rimeswithpurple @imagineacoolusername  @martsonmars  @valeffelees  @ileadacharmedlife  @aristocratic-otter  @urban-sith  @letraspal  @palimpsessed  @whatevertheweather  @nightimedreamersworld  @carryonsimoncarryonbaz  @raenestee  @moodandmist  @shrekgogurt  @whogaveyoupermission  @onepintobean  @ebbpettier @captain-aralias @fatalfangirl  @prettygoododds @ivelovedhimthroughworse @mysterioussheep @c0nsumemy5oul @facewithoutheart @j-nipper-95 @alexalexinii @iamamythologicalcreature @supercutedinosaurs @best--dress @messofthejess @mooncello @orange-peony @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @bookish-bogwitch @confused-bi-queer @youarenevertooold @that-disabled-princess @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @theearlgreymage @blackberrysummerblog @nausikaaa

[xzhdjsj]

Tangled in Love

Andrew x Reader

Okay before you continue this, I wanted to let you know this fic mentions description of hair texture. The reader has wavy/curly hair! Additionally, this fic is a rewrite of part 6 of Andrew’s story.

+a lil rant before the actual fic (you can skip the first part but please read the second)

I wasn't going to post this because it's a self-indulgent piece but hey I’m sure someone out there will enjoy it too. I've struggled with my hair for quite a while. It was one of my biggest insecurities, and I never knew how to take care of it. For the majority of my life, I've treated my hair as though it was straight, using straight hair products and styles, because that's what I wanted my hair to be. I hated the 'frizz' which in actuality was just me damaging my curl pattern😭 Thankfully, even though I couldn't see it, the people around me did and helped me manage and properly care for my hair. These days, I embrace my curls, and I love them more than anything! If I'm not rocking my curly hair I feel incomplete, it's become a huge part of me! I still have a long way to go, but I'm beyond happy I was able to finally recognise how beautiful my hair is.

That being said, I want to remind all of you that YOU ARE PERFECT! I know we doubt and pick at ourselves from time to time, but it's important to remember THOSE DOUBTS DON'T DEFINE US! Every imperfection and flaw is what makes you perfectly, uniquely and most of all beautifully YOU. Please remember to be kind to yourself and never ever stop loving yourself ❤️

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It's been months since Andrew ended things with me. At first, I prided myself in being mature and acted like the entire thing never even happened. I stopped sitting where his eyes can easily find me, I never take similar routes as he would and avoided his office at all cost. It was easy to find a temporary tutor to help with my assessments, that way I didn't even need to attend his tutorials. 

The less contact with him the better. This little routine was good and dandy, getting me by as I immersed myself completely in y work. If I distracted my mind, I wouldn't need to think of Andrew, right? Wrong.

So fucking wrong.

Every other thought, he was on my mind. I wondered how he'd answer questions on my exam preps, and his opinion on every sentence I wrote. I thought of him so much, it was sickening and before I knew it I was tired and relapsing.

I gave university my all until I couldn't anymore. I was heartbroken and ignoring my feelings only made them worst. They burdened my mind, and I spent nights upon nights crying my eyes swollen into my pillows. I knew I had to accept it somehow but the ghosts of him haunts me, even in my dreams.

Last night’s dream was an especially painful one. I vividly remember the look on his face and the way my heart shattered into a million pieces as he drove away that day. What a shit start to my day!

I rolled out of bed, heading straight for the bathroom where I splashed my face with cold water and looked into the mirror. What a mess, my hair was messy and unkept and not in and attractive, quirky way, more closely resembling a bird’s nest. I wonder if Andrew could ever love me even when I look like this.

I sigh, rubbing my temples and trying not to cry again. Maybe a nice long shower would help, so I did just that. I stayed under the running water for more than an hour, then detangled my hair before stepping out. It did help, at the very least I felt clean and refreshed.

Today was going to be more or less going to be simple, there was a single task posted on Moodle and that’s all I needed to get done.

I settled into a comfy set of clothes and started drying my hair, only to be interrupted by a knock on my door. Who could that be? I threw the towel over a chair and opened the door, and my eyes are met with the last person I wanted to see.

“Hi, I’m here to speak to you” His mouth is agape and he looks a bit shocked.

Speak to me? Here to speak to me? My mind roared. Absolutely not. I was about to slam the door in his face, but he steps forward.

“Only as a professor!” He clarifies. “May I please come in?”

“Fine, but make it quick.” I demanded.

He sighs, “Thank you.”

He steps inside and I lock the door behind him. A waft of his scent hitting my nose, God how I missed that.

“I've emailed you several times about booking a tutorial, whether that be online or in person, and I haven't heard anything back. Me being here is a last resort. It's part of my job to make my students are well, and that if they're struggling, I can point them in the right direction.” He paused, finally taking his eyes off me to look around. “You have a nice place. It's what I imagined it would look like.”

“That’s not why you’re here And- Mr. Marston.”

“Yes, strictly business it is then, though, I don't want to treat it as such.” His eyes are on me again, but I refuse to give him the same attention choosing to fidget with my fingers instead. “I'll try and keep things brief for the both of us. You've been attending as usual, on top of your work as usual and nothing on the surface warrants concern, but because this is around the time where I need to be updated on essay plans and what you intend to do, us talking to one another is inevitable and for your records, and my peace of mind, we must.”

“It’s going good.” I replied, monotoned.

“It’s going good? Is that’s all I get?” He pushes.

“It’s an update, is it not?”

“It's a different response. In the past when we had our tutorials, that went on for at least an hour, you were so passionate about your subject, you made your own reading list and clearly planned out your arguments. You talked me through every point and asked for my opinion just to be sure you couldn't look at it from any other angle because you were adamant about not just getting it right but understanding different perspectives. Tutorials are only supposed to last around half an hour. Why do you think I always put you in the last slot? The look you have when you lose yourself to your ideas, when your eyes spark with this clarity I never want to stop you mid-thought or let that light disappear.” He rants and I wish he’d stop describing me that way.

“First and foremost, I am your professor. I’m here to nurture your curiosity and always have you searching for answers so when you don't show up to your tutorials I get concerned.”

“But I attend classes and all my work is completed. Is that not enough?”

“Your work is fine but that's not the problem I-” He paused and sighs for the hundredth time, “I want to ask how you are.”

“Now you’re interested in that?”

“I never had the chance to and even if I did try to talk to you would you have answered?”

Well shit, he’s got me there. I stay quiet and stare at my feet.

“You've been avoiding me for over a month now and I completely understand why. It's enough that you're still going to classes and doing your work, and I can't imagine what you must be feeling having to be taught by me even now. For the pain I still give you, I am sorry. For the pain I gave you that day, I am sorry.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Is that why you’re here? To say sorry?”

“I didn't come here under the pretense of apologizing but… it's something I’ve been meaning to do for a while now. The rumours have died down but that doesn't change the thoughts people still have. It's not something that we should live with, but we must.” He regains his composure quickly, shifting the conversation back to university. “Anyway, care to tell me anything else about your essay? Any avenues you're thinking of exploring? Any reading material that's caught your eye?”

“What about you? Howe you Andrew?” I finally find his face with my eyes.

“I thought you wanted to keep this strictly business.” He uses my words against me. “Don't worry about me. I want you to focus on your studies.”

He smiles and it makes my heart skip a beat.

“Have you… Have you seen the petition?”

“Yes, I’ve seen it. I considered resigning and letting them win.” My eyes widen at his confession.

“Rumours can get out of hand quickly. Heh, never in my life did I think I’d be called such names. Now people think I let students get close to me to get good grades, no matter the gender. I’m a danger to all apparently.”

He sounds tired too, that’s one thing I can sympathise with him.

“The dean’s comment eased some of the backlash, but this is a burden I’ll most likely carry for the rest of my career.” He continued.

I stay quiet, unsure how to respond to him. I supposed we’ve both been hurting in our own ways.

“Can I be frank with you?” He catches my attention again and I look up from my thoughts. “I don’t regret any of it. It was one of the most honest decisions I’ve ever made. My only regret is not protecting you when it mattered and- and I’ll never be able to undo that.”

Fuck he always makes things so difficult for me.

“When I saw that video, and those comments I panicked. The first thing that came to my mind was how you’d feel reading them and how you’d continue knowing people thought of you that way. I know how that feels, something similar happened to me years ago. It hurts being ostracised and judged on lies and when you wade in that water you still have to hold your head up high, so you don’t drown. But thinking back I was irrational. I let my own fears get the better of me and made a decision that was not only mine to make. I… I should have spoken to you before driving you away. I’m not asking for your forgiveness or pity. I just need to let you know this.”

“So what now?”

“That’s a good question, I would say we continue as we are now, I only have your best interests at heart and that should be more important to me than my feelings for you.”

“You… you still have feelings for me?”

“Of course, I do! You think they just stopped? I tried burying them, stifling them, but every time you walked into my lectures it was impossible not to remember all the things we experience together.”

“Andrew look at me.” I shake my head. “I look awful, I’m a mess.”

“I disagree. You’re still as beautiful as the day I left you. If not, even more. Your hair, I- I’ve never seen it like that. It might just be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

My hair? I haven’t even straightened it like I always do. How could he find this beautiful?

“Still, you said it yourself, this could never work. Why would you-“

“I’m saying my heart wants to follow you again. Despite it all, I still want you.” He sounds so desperate, and I can feel my heart in my throat. “But this isn’t about what I want. It’s up to you. I you want nothing to do with me outside of university, so be it. If you want to give this a chance, a real chance, I’m fine with that too.”

“Andrew I-“

“You don’t need to give me an answer now, or at all actually. Just… do what you feel most comfortable with.”

That day I had a lot more to think of as I stood in front of my mirror once again. My hair was still unstraightened and a thought crossed my mind. I remember Andrew’s words before he left.

“I know I said it before, but your hair really does beautiful. I can’t quite get over it. It suits you.”

Maybe if I was going to give this another shot, it was time to start afresh. No more secrecy and sneaking around. I stare at my hair in the mirror. Maybe it did suit me and it wouldn’t hurt to try something new, would it?

-

Months later I feel so much better, the air is clearer, the sun is shining and I’m finally ready to talk to Andrew again.

I sat the window of the café I asked to meet at, looking over at the door each time the bell chimed. This time I was right, it was him. He spots me quickly and walks over.

“Hi, I know I’m a little early. May I sit?”

“Of course, please do” I urge him.

“I see you changed your hair. It looks really good.”

I run my fingers across the soft curls on my shoulder.

“Less of a change more of an embrace I’d say. I thought it was about time I stopped straightening it and wear my natural hair.”

“Not that you were any less beautiful before, but I find it harder to keep my eyes off you now.”

I smile. My cheeks are probably flushed, I can feel them all warm like the fuzzy feeling in my stomach.

“You know it’s very similar to my decision.” I tell him. “It’s another thing I want to embrace and flaunt to the world.”

“And I'll accept it no matter what it might be. So, what's your decision?”

My ass is off the chair in an instant, and I lean over the table to pull his face to mine. I missed kissing him, I missed kissing him so damn much.

[a-whisper-in-the-forest]

Prompt used

TW: Mention of death

“I’m not sure if I’ve ever really loved you.”

“You’re running away again aren’t you?”

"No, i'm not." Villain says, not meeting Hero's eye. "Yes, you are. You say something about how you don't love me, or how this isn't going to work out and then you leave. Only for me to drag your ass back home because you got yourself hurt doing some reckless shit." Hero practically spits at Villain. They can feel the anger boil up in them. Why would they want to run away? What is it that drives them away?

"That was one time and I'm serious now." The Villain looks at the Hero with an emotion they can't quite place. "It felt good in the beginning, but now..."

"You're lying" Hero interupts.

"I'm not lying. This can't go on. I don't love you. You were just some exciting new thing and now the new has worn off." Villain says with a stern look on their face, but their eyes say something different. Sadness? Regret? Hatred? Hero couldn't place it.

"I can't do it."

Fear. It was fear, Hero realises. They were scared, and Hero doesn't know why. Why would one of the most dangerous villains in the city be scared? Who or what scared them that much that they felt the need to run away? They have never seen Villain scared. And that scares them.

"I'm leaving and don't try to stop me. I've made my descision." Villain says as they stood up, picking up the bag next to the couch they were sitting on. "All of my things should be gone. If i forgot any, don't bother calling me, just keep it."

"Villain...."

"Or throw it out, i don't really care."

"Villain, please..."

"No Hero, i've made up my mind. We're not meant for each other." Villain snaps back.

"Why are you scared?"

"Why do you think i'm scared?" Villain huffs, as if they were trying to laugh at a bad joke. "Because i can see it in your eyes." Hero almost whispers, while taking a step forward. Villain instantly takes a step back and quickly looks away. "You have no idea what you are talking about."

"Then explain it to me." The Hero pleads, almost begging the Villain. All the anger now replaced with worry. "I can't." Villain mumbles, looking anywhere but at Hero. "Please try. I will do my best to understand." The hero grabs their hand before they can pull away. Hands that killed so many yet hugged them so tightly when they cuddled on the couch. Hands and wrists that have been covered in blood, dirt, grime and ...bruises?

"Hey, what's this?" Hero asks gripping the wirst with both of their hands. "Nothing, just got into a fight." The Villain lies. And Hero noticises it. "You're lying again." "I'm..." Villain trails off in the middle of their sentence. With a heavy sigh they look at them and say something that makes their stomach drop.

"It was a fight between me and Superhero. They told me if i didn't leave, they would kill you and frame me for your death." Villain said with a heavy voice.

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"Could they do that?"

"I don't know, and i am not willing to find out." And with that, they left.

Hi! Whispher here. This is my first (of hopefully many posts) and i have no idea what i'm doing. So if you noticed anything that i can work on, please let me know.

(English also isn't my first language, so i apologise for any mistakes).

[chiffon-and-spice]

I Can't Be Who I Was (Leon Kennedy x Reader)

Post, RE:2 Leon (clean fluff)

Concept- After the months leading after the events of Raccoon City, Leon struggles with nightmares. One night, it seems worse than usual, and you're desperate to comfort your traumatized boyfriend. 

CW-  alcoholism sorta (implicitly stated)

A/N- If you want some Leon smut, don't worry, I've got something along the way. This is just a purely self-indulgent piece, because I've been going through it and really need some fluffy support. 

You were somewhat confused at first, as you blinked your eyes open carefully, attempting to adjust to the darkness in the room. You weren't sure what had woken you up at first, as you tiredly gazed around the room. 

After finding nothing, you rolled back over, ready to fall back asleep, when the sound of a quiet whimper made you shoot up.

It seemed to get a little louder, and as you glanced over to the other side of the bed, you noticed Leon's quivering form. His eyes weren't closed, but squeezed tightly, as he thrashed at the sheets, his hand balling the fabric. His body moved once again, as his teeth grit into each other and his mouth moved. The man's voice was quiet, and you couldn't make out much.

"I failed..." was the only coherent sentence. Despite being covered in the blankets he seemed to be shivering. No matter how often you tried, the man refused to sleep with little more than his boxers, claiming he'd just get hot in the night.

You couldn't help but feel a twinge in your heart, not surprised by his actions. It wasn't like this was new for Leon. Ever since the events of Raccoon City, it was rare he got a moment of peace. Despite being there, you two had only found each other later in the night. Some of the horrors he talked about, made you reevaluate your own events that night. 

What startled you most however, was that his movements seemed to be a little bit more spastic than usual, and he was... sobbing. He kept repeating words and phrases to himself. 

"Leon..." you whispered quietly, not wishing to cause him any more harm than he had already gone through. Unsurprising, your words didn't seem to have an effect on him. In fact, his movements only seemed to grow more erratic, as he shifted around, disturbing the bedsheets.

"My fault... All my fault," you made out.

You gently shook him, instantly worried. The movement seems to shake him, as he quickly sits up, moving your arms away from him. Leon's actions catch you off guard, as you lose your balance falling off the bed.

You were surprised however, when Leon quickly reached over, steadying your balance. Even though he had just been asleep moments ago, his instincts were still pretty sharp. 

His blue eyes held that all too familiar tired look, as he gazed down at you for a moment, making sure you were safe. 

Leon groaned slightly, running a hand across his face. He looked so closed off, compared to the emotions he had displayed before. You could see the tension ripple in his back muscles, as his shoulders tightened up. 

"Shit..." he breathed quietly, before turning to see you. 

The look on your face must've been unpleasant, as his features softened, and he gently reached out, rubbing your arm.

"I'm sorry babe, did I wake you...?" he asked quietly, holding back a yawn. 

Despite everything he'd been through, he was always ever so gentle with you. Your heart softened from his touch, as you carefully placed your hand over his. He had been the one struggling, and was worried that he had woken you up.

"Another nightmare?" you whispered softly. 

Leon didn't say much, slowly letting go of you. He looked so guarded, as his lips tightened and his eyes dropped back down. He seems unsure what to say, only shrugging softly.

"Nothing to worry about. I didn't mean to disturb you," he answered. 

The look in his eyes reminded you of a puppy that had been scolded. They were glassy, though you couldn't tell if that was from lack of sleep or being haunted by a million memories from that night. Either way, he didn't seem interested.

"Leon?" you asked quietly. 

He doesn't seem to hear your response though, instead pulling the covers back, as he turns, setting his feet on the wood floor. His hand raises, as he pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. Then, the blond reaches for the drawer on the bedside table, running through the contents. 

After a moment, he slams the drawer annoyed, his hands revealing nothing. You didn't have to ask, you knew what he was looking for. You frowned at the circumstance, moving over to sit beside him. 

This seems to make Leon tense up more, as he stares at the ground awkwardly. 

You gently took his hand, using your thumb to carefully caress his knuckles. 

"Please...Talk to me," you pleaded gently. 

Leon only shrugged softly, pulling his hand away. 

"It's fine... you just get back to sleep. I'm sorry I woke you."

Carefully, he lifts himself off the bed and leaves the bedroom without another word. Your heart sank, at his words, watching his silhouette slip away. It wasn't like you had expected him to start talking, no you knew better than that. You still couldn't help the disappointment you felt in his disappearance however. 

You rubbed your eyes carefully, as you made your way after him. The wooden floor was cold against your bare feet, and creaked under your weight. It seemed to wake you up a bit more. You fumbled through the dark room a little less gracefully than Leon, but eventually found the door and cracked it open.

You weren't surprised to find Leon hunched over your dining table, a bottle in his hands. Your shoulders drooped, as you pulled out the chair beside him. You thought moving the flask out of the bedroom would help defer his habit. Knowing Leon however, you should've expected him to have stashed something around the house. He doesn't meet your eyes as he glances down, swirling the bottle quietly to himself. 

"What was it this time...?" you asked cautiously, choosing to ignore the bottle for now. The last thing you wanted him doing right now was shutting you out. 

You couldn't quite make out his features in the darkness of the room, but you could hear the bottle moving around between his hands. The dark liquid makes a soft sloshing sound. The room is silent aside from that, and Leon seems to be studying the table. 

You slowly reach over, wrapping your hand around his. 

"Leon..."

Upon hearing you say his name, he stops, but his grip on the bottle doesn't loosen up. His ice blue eyes feel particularly cold in that moment, as he stares blankly at you. Leon's gaze doesn't hold, as he looks down, letting out a quiet sigh. 

"It's always something..." he whispered. 

You stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue. Eyeing him for any indicators as to what you could possibly do. You felt your chest tighten, at the sound of his foot slowly tapping against the floor. The room seemed to grow a little colder.

"I'm... sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. I think I'm just tired," Leon finally finished, closing his eyes, as he let out a breathy sigh. 

It wasn't unlike him to shut down and make excuses. No matter how often you reassured Leon that talking was good, he always seemed to back away from the idea. Almost like if he told you too much, you might slip away into the night and look for something easier to handle. His burdens weren't your responsibility. 

"This time it sounded pretty bad... Was it about Marvin again?"

The blond seems to cower at the name, his thumb running along the bottle, as he takes a long sip. His hair kinda falls all over his face, momentarily covering his eyes. He hadn't gotten it cut in awhile. 

Some nights you'd spend hours brushing your fingers through it, as Leon fell asleep in your lap, lulled by the comfort of your touch. Those were on the nights when you could convince him to let you comfort him. Recently, there have been less nights like that and more like the ones right now. Quiet, as Leon sipped on a bottle, ignoring whatever had disrupted his sleep. 

"No...," he finally replied quietly, setting the bottle down. 

"You know that night wasn't your fault... right Leon?"

Leon seems to shift slightly in the chair, his knee twitching a bit, as he turns his head, now staring at the wall. He doesn't speak or move after that. You know what he's thinking, as he avoids your gaze. 

You stand up, making your way over to him. You're startled when he raises his hand however, shaking his head.

"Don't... Don't try to excuse my actions. If I hadn't shown up late... If I had just gotten there a little sooner-"

"Don't do that to yourself Leon. Don't beat yourself up over things you couldn't have possibly known. I was there when it all started, there was nothing you could've done for Raccoon City."

"I could've died for it."

You felt yourself wince, as you carefully wrapped your arms around his torso, burying your head in his neck. He doesn't seem to respond to your touch, only continuing to look at the wall. 

"So many people died because of me... "

"More people lived because of you Leon. Sherry, Claire, and I escaped because of your help. Sherry is currently safe because of you. I made it out because of you."

"Yeah, but what about Marvin? Or Anette. Or... or Ada..." he whispered, now finally meeting your gaze. You knew what he was looking for. His screams could be heard all throughout the facility, as you made your way forward. The desperation in his voice. Ada's death hit him the closest. Being so close to saving her, only for her to slip in his grasp. How couldn't he blame himself?

"None of that is on you Leon..." you breathed softly, looking up, but not removing your hands. "You did everything you could."

The man pulled away from your touch, standing up now. He ran both his hands along his face, as he let out a frustrated sigh. Leon started pacing back and forth, once again not meeting your gaze. 

"I had her, right in my hands. And I... she just..."

"There was nothing you could do..." 

Leon turned, grabbing the back of the chair closet to him. His grip was so tight you could see his knuckles beginning to pale. His blue eyes seemed to darken, as he closed them, lips pulling into a thin line. 

"I could've saved her. If I had just been stronger... If I didn't go charging out there-"

"Leon... you can't save everyone."

"It was my job to save everyone. It was my job to ensure the safety of others. I failed before I could even get into it."

It was often he spiraled like this, and each time hurt a little bit more than the last. To know how Leon saw himself, left an ache in your chest. Between seeing all the death around him and knowing he was one of the few to survive, gnawed inside of him like a parasite. 

"Leon, how many times that night did you put yourself first? Even if it meant endangering others?"

His head shot up startled, as he studied your frame. He's wordless for a minute, almost confused by your words. You notice his grip on the chair eases, but the glassiness in his eyes only seems to increase.

"I... What? Never, why would you ask that?" 

"Exactly... your entire time there, you did nothing but risk your life for others. Hell... I watched you take a bullet for a woman you barely knew," you gasped out, dropping your shoulders. 

The tension in Leon's shoulders seemed to tighten, as he grit his teeth, shaking his head.

"It didn't matter... saving her life doesn't make me any better, if I also am the one that took it."

"You didn't shoot the bullet."

"I might as well have."

  "Leon-"

You're startled when his voice rises, and you can see tears slowly slipping down his eyes.

"How much longer until I fail you the same way...?"

With those words, the tension in the air seems to snap, and his voice sounds so loud. It echoes and reverberates in your heart. His words seem to flow through your very veins, burning a fire through your body. You want to collapse in his arms or hold him in your own. 

You slowly made your way over, taking his face in your hands. His cheeks are soft and wet with tears, as your thumb gently brushes along the ridges. You familiarize yourself with every little detail. The dark circles under his eyes, the tormented look in his pupils, the way his expression seems to soften from your touch. 

His face is warm against your fingers, and it's so quiet you can hear his heartbeat. Leon seems unsure how to react, at first not looking at you but not pulling away either. Standing before you, he's a tormented and beaten man. 

"I'm scared of the day when you realize you can do better than me. That after one too many sleepless nights, you'll decide I'm not worth the effort. That I'm just... too hard to love."

With each word he sounds defeated. His cheeks are flushed, and he's no longer holding back. His tears are now running down, brushing past your fingers. You only tighten your hold, pressing your forehead against his own.

"Baby... I'm with you because I want to be. Every day I wake up and choose to love you, because there's no one in this world more perfect for me than you. When I wake up in the mornings, and the bed is empty, I practically crave your presence. No love is easy, but for you it's worth it. I'm not going anywhere, not without you."

Leon still doesn't meet your eyes, wearing that worried expression. The one that practically makes your blood turn cold, and leaves you frozen in place. Part of you wonders if he even heard your words, but based on his slight shuffling and avoiding your gaze, you assume he did.

You carefully rested your forehead against his own, feeling a slight pinch in your heart. You needed him to believe your words. To know that you were there for him, and wanted him in every way that mattered. 

"Leon... look at me," you whispered, trying to meet his gaze.

He's fidgety at first, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. You can see his back tense, and his chest doesn't even move, almost like he's holding his breath. Then, Leon lifts his eyes shakily to meet yours. The tears hadn't left, and he somehow looked more tired than when the conversation had started. 

"There's nothing wrong with you, and there's nothing you could do to make me love you any less. Raccoon City was a lot."

Leon's blue eyes sort of squint, probably trying to blink tears away, as he gently pulls his face from your grasp. His shoulders are still hunched, as he bends down grabbing the bottle. He turns it in his hands and lets out a hollow laugh.

"You... I wish I could be the person I used to be. The kind of guy you deserve. One who could sleep peacefully through the night. The kind of person... who doesn't scream in his sleep and shove his lover over on the bed. The person who can cook you breakfast, and doesn't wake up hungover and angry. And it hurts, because I know I'm capable of being that guy... that I was that guy. And you never got to meet him. Never got to see what I was like before...what I was like when I was still good. When I deserved someone like you. When you look back on yourself, you're supposed to see growth, but I just feel like I keep stepping back."

You shook your head, your chest tightening with his words. The way he looked, as he paced around the tiny dining room made you feel so helpless. You took a few cautious steps forward, relieved that he doesn't seem to back away. 

In the midst of his rant, you just hug him from behind, wrapping your arms tenderly around his stomach. You bury your face against his bare back, as if you can somehow take on all the weight crushing his shoulders. You can feel his breathing slow, at your touch, as his heart rate increases. 

Then, you feel his back relax, as he just turns and melts into you. Leon rests his chin on your head, practically crushing you with his weight. Your fingers gently comb through his hair, as you try to give him the reassurance you can.

"You've been through a lot Leon, people don't just walk away from the things you have and remain the same. You acknowledge you can do better, so work towards it. I believe in you Leon, and you're still a good man. That's who I fell in love with. That's who I choose to see, even when you don't."

You can feel the blond practically crumble from your words, his cries growing quieter, as he slowly buries his head in your hair. 

"I'd be so lost without you..." he whispered.

"You'll never have to worry about that."

After a little more reassurance, you two made your way back to the bedroom, his head in your lap, as you talked about small things. Random events, funny office moments, stupid choices you both had made in your past, and anything else that came to mind. Anything to help distract him from the memories of that night. 

Within moments, Leon's head rested cozily on your chest, as you stroked his hair, careful not to pull it too tightly. His words had slowly spilled off into silence, and it wasn't long before his eyes closed and you could see the slow rise and fall of his chest. 

The man's face was much softer than it had been before, however his grip around you never loosened. 

&lt;;3 My A03 Account

[aladaylessecondblog]

You Stole My Sun (Halsin x Tav x Astarion)

Basically the aftermath of that idea I wrote about post-Astarion's "I should have made you a spawn" line.

big sad, spiraling frightened/uber depressed Tav. Halsin is the best ever etc

This is my Tav, AFAB druid drow with same pronouns, but feel free to imagine your own Tav if you want.

Halsin didn't know what had happened, because Tav wouldn't say. He only knew it had involved Astarion, who had been gone for almost a week now.

The only clear thing he could get out of her was that Astarion hadn't hurt her, and one sad little sentence that made no sense: 'None of it was real.'

But that left quite a range that had him racking his mind, considering...

Considering that she had clammed up, that the near-endless line of jokes and smiles and little laughs had stopped cold. That every time he touched her when her back was turned, she stiffened and whipped around like she was afraid someone meant to attack her. That she spent more time with the animals in camp and out past the treeline than before.

(Considering when he had tried to come to her as 'her bear' she had blanched as if afraid he really would devour her)

The rest of the camp had noticed, too, and dealt with it in different ways.

Lae'zel had offered herself as a sparring partner, saying Tav needed more practice with a longsword anyway. Will had done something along the same lines.

Gale had tried to lift her spirits in his usual way, and Karlach had, now she was fixed, gone for hugs which Tav returned--in silence.

None of them seemed entirely sure of what to do to fix this, though. Whenever anyone had been in such a mood, it was always Tav who brought back the better mood, who lifted their spirits, got them smiling.

What did you do, Astarion? Halsin found himself thinking as he watched Tav. She wildshaped into a cat, came to sit in his lap, and curled up as if trying to hide. You stole my sun, that's what you did.

Tav was like a light to the camp, brightening and warming everyone whose lives she touched.

And her light had gone out.

His heart's heart was broken.

------------------------------------------

Astarion returned late, when some of the camp were still up but several had already gone to bed. He HAD hoped to do it quietly, simply to slip in, but he was spotted almost immediately

Lae'zel (who was on watch) was the first to see him, and had moved off--to warn Halsin, he assumed, since the man returned with her a few moments later.

She then moved off to complete a patrol around the campsite.

"Come to warn me off?" he attempted a quip, but it fell flat.

"Come for answers," Halsin replied. "I've been confused, you see. It's not in your nature to run like this. Hide, certainly, sneak, absolutely. But to run?"

"I thought Tav had sent you to--"

"She didn't send me to do anything. What happened, exactly?"

"Didn't she say?" Astarion looked up, and then swiftly back down. "Usually she's eager to--talk."

"Not a word, my star. All she would say was that you had not hurt her. And to quote directly, 'None of it was real,' in the most desolate tone I have ever heard from one in love. What did you do?"

"I...made a mistake," he said, letting out a needlessly long breath. "She didn't care for the idea of my...ascension, you see."

"Of course not. She feared...that you might become the thing that once frightened YOU."

"And I thought that was a lot of nonsense. I mean, really...I would be safer than ever. I didn't see the problem that she did...she wouldn't touch the extra little tadpoles, she wouldn't hear of taking control of the--well, that's all been gone over. What you want to hear about is..."

Halsin waited.

"She didn't understand, and I wanted to make her understand. I practically snarled at her, said I should have--made her a spawn..."

Seeing Halsin's eyes narrow was a bit like having Scratch growl at you. It let you know you'd fucked up and fucked up bad.

He went on explaining, and finished with, "I've never seen her afraid of anything before that moment. I didn't think--she ran. She ran from me. That--that was the last thing I wanted! That's not what I meant to do!"

"But it's what happened."

"...what am I supposed to do now?" Astarion's voice, far more miserable than he'd ever let Halsin hear before, burst out.

"Apologize," Halsin said, "As a start. And understand that if she DOES forgive you, it will take time."

[blood-orange-juice]

Ok, there was a post I never got to write so now I don't get to post a HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT update. But I want to write it anyway.

TMI, weird personal symbolism, etc.

There's a type I rather dramatically call "people of dark water" and it's usually women. Very rarely represented in media. Almost-tricksters with some kind of important personal truth if I try to boil it down to a sentence.

They usually have been wounded by something most people never notice (canary in the mine situation) or have the privilege never to encounter, and then made it into a strength somehow.

(watch me fall for someone like that every time)

I came up with the term when I learned that in Old Irish and in Proto-Indo-European there was a distinction between clear flowing water (danu) and dark deep water (dubros in PIE, dobur in Old Irish specifically). You can still see it in places' names across Europe (Danube, Dover, etc).

In part, Childe excites me so much because he's that. He's like all the women I've ever loved except that he's a guy.

There's also a Jim White's song Still Waters which is exactly about a person of that type if you look at the lyrics. The tone of the music doesn't match at all though. His still waters are Louisiana swamps, not sea or lake depths.

And I always wondered what would a character or an irl person of that type look like.

And when Aventurine came out I sort of nodded to myself and decided that yeah, that's it. He's that type. Nice to finally have an answer.

"Still Waters" became my Aventurine song.

So imagine my surprise when I used Aventurine's overworld skill and saw a "Still waters run deep" status appear.

*pauses for a moment of incoherent shouting*

A coincidence and something about archetypes, I know. It's a popular proverb, it fits him well and there's no way someone in Hoyo even listens to Jim White. Even Americans don't know him, he's a musicians' musician.

Also I'm not sure whether a similar phrase even exists in Chinese and maybe this parallel happens only in English translation.

Still, I feel like reality just glitched ot something of that sort.

Don't you know there are projects for the dead And there are projects for the living Though I must confess sometimes I get confused by that distinction And I just throw myself into the arms Of that which would betray me. I guess to see how far Providence Will stoop down just to save me.

[inmymagnetoera]

THIS IS LIKE THE THIRD POST I'VE MADE TODAY BUT IT DOESN'T MATTER

I made a little fic for @lehnsherrslover after they posted a list of prompts they wanted to read and I chose Single Dads AU because, who doesn't love a good Single Dads AU? So here's a little gift for you (I LOVE WRITING FIC AND GIVING THEM TO OTHER PEOPLE AAAAA)

______________

Playmates

Erik was desperate to say the least.

His children, his two little demonic angels had disappeared in the aisles of the supermarket and the man didn't seem to find them anywhere. He searched with his own power for the two steel bracelets that the six-year-old twins were wearing precisely for this situation. Erik was happy to have listened to his mother when she had given the idea a few years earlier.

"Where are you, where are you." He repeated like a mantra in his head as he pushed the cart full of food and a toy that Pietro had taken without his father noticing. The bracelets continually moved from one part of the supermarket to another, most likely due to Pietro running at supersonic speed with his sister on his shoulders.

Suddenly the movement stopped and Erik ran towards the aisle where the bracelets were located, knowing he looked like a madman after abandoning a cart full of products in the middle of the supermarket. He turned the corner and saw them: his two children were standing next to each other: Pietro was rocking back and forth and Wanda was holding the hand of another child to Erik unknown who looked a little younger than them.

"Wanda, Pietro, don't ever run away like that again, please." Erik realized he was out of breath, he reached down and picked up the silver-haired boy, feeling his heart fill at the little boy's laugh.

"Dad! Dad! We made a friend." Wanda said swinging her hand and the baby's.

"Yes, this is David!" Pietro said clutching his father's checked shirt.

"Hi David, where are your parents?" Erik bent down to be face to face with the boy, who moved to stand behind Wanda.

"He's shy." The little girl said playing with one of the many unruly curls on her head. The little boy leaned over and whispered something in his new friend's ear.

"He says hi." Wanda took the boy's hand back into hers.

“Do you guys know where his parents are?” Wanda and Pietro shook their heads. Oh well, his two little angels had probably "kidnapped" another child.

"Alright little one, let's try to find your-"

"David! There you are!" A voice cried out in relief from behind Erik. A weight lifted from his chest, it had ended well. In addition to the voice, however, he sensed a large amount of iron. He turned and felt his head spin at the sight of the other man. The, if he understood correctly, father of the child was breathtaking. Hia brown hair looked so soft, making Erik want to run his hand through it. His lips were red and Erik tried not to stare at them too much and his eyes were just…

"Sir? Are you okay?" Asked the man who now had the baby, David, on his lap.

"Uh, yeah, yeah sure." Erik said with a cough and shook off the feeling he had.

"I'm sorry if David caused you any trouble." The man gave a quick kiss on the little boy's head and stretched out his hand in front of him.

"Charles Xavier, nice to meet you..."

"Erik, Erik Lehnsherr." He shook the man's hand with one hand while holding Pietro with the other.

"Don't worry about David, in fact, I apologize on behalf of my children for holding him back." He bent down a little and also picked up Wanda who hid her face in the crook of her father's neck.

“Did your kids talk to him?” He asked with a stunned look.

"Yeah, I mean, he's shy and talked in Wanda's ear." Erik finished the sentence abruptly, seeing the man's eyes become moist.

“How about we take the kids out for ice cream so we can talk for a bit?” Erik saw how the man tried to remain calm and couldn't help but nod.

They left the supermarket and went to a nearby ice cream shop that had a large outdoor garden with benches and tables where the children could have fun.

"Thank you for agreeing to come." Charles said as he watched the three children laughing and talking at a nearby table.

“No problem but, did you want to talk about something?” Erik asked, mixing the now melted ice cream in the cup.

"David is autistic. He is five years old and from what I know the only person he has ever verbally spoken to is me. He usually uses body language to communicate with others but with me he uses his telepathy."

"Are you a mutant?" Erik asked without warning, biting his tongue and internally slapping himself for asking something so private.

"Yes, any problems?" Charles asked now with a completely serious and no longer grateful look.

"No! No, it's just..." He moved his hand and some coins levitated from his pocket to the table.

"A telekinetic! That's awesome!" Charles' eyes lit up as he looked at the now motionless pennies.

"Only with metal, actually. Pietro is superfast and Wanda can alter reality. What about you?" He asked as an emotion of affection for his two children ran through his body.

"Telepath, just like my David. But, hey, a super fast kid and one who can change things at will. That must be a nightmare for you and your wife." Erik smiled sadly.

"I'm a widower, actually. Magda died when the twins were two, they hadn't developed their mutations yet but I'm sure she would have been very proud."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, my friend, I shouldn't have assumed anything." Charles said regretfully, wringing his fingers.

"Don't worry. I miss her but life goes on. What about you?" He asked watching the man bite his lower lip.

"Oh, divorced. David's mother, Gabrielle, and I wanted different things. You know, it happens but we're on good terms. David usually goes to her place during the summer and to celebrate Hannukah." Erik was elated.

"Are you Jewish? Like, are you both a mutant and Jewish?"

"No, I'm not Jewish but Gabrielle is and we mutually decided that David would follow his mother's religion. Why you ask?"

"Because I'm Jewish too." He said with a smile, taking the coins from the table to his pocket.

“This is amazing! It just feels like we were destined to find each other. However, as I was telling you before: David has never communicated verbally with anyone else and to hear that with your children he has… Erik, please, I know that We've only known each other for a little less than an hour but if you agree, would you let our children play together a few days a week?" He asked, looking at the other man with eyes so blue that there was no way for Erik not to accept.

"Of course I agree Charles. It would also be good for my children to be with David, I think they already care a lot about him." He said with a smile.

"And maybe if you like, sometimes just the two of us could go out." Erik's words made Charles' cheeks blush.

“Or not, I mean, you don't have to, you don't have to feel any pressure just because I agreed to let our kids play together, oh no, I don't even know if you're attracted to men.” He pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers and thought that if he hadn't been so mortified he would have burst out laughing. Charles took his hand in his.

"Erik, I would like to inform you that yes, I am attracted to men, to you, especially, and that I would be truly honored if we went out together sometime." The man smiled and tucked an out-of-place tuft behind his ear and Erik knew he was too attracted to the man for his own good.

[augenblicklich-lila]

cod incorrect quotes #9

This one has a few more quotes since I haven't posted in a couple days. I've been enjoying this whole thing tremendously. Thank you for all the likes and reblogs! Love y'all ♡

the usual jazz, mainly Y/N/Reader stuff, platonic and romantic. Plus a sprinkle of Soapghost ♡♡♡

first speaking appearance for Graves! who'd have thunk? about time. In my defense, I had to do a lot of scrolling to get to him, okay?

- Lila

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.✭・♛ ♛ （ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)つ━━✫・*。 ⊂　　 ノ 　　　・゜+. しーーＪ　　　°。+ *´¨)

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.✭・♛

Soap, tending to Y/N's wounds: How would you rate your pain? Y/N: Zero stars. Would NOT recommend. Ghost: In light of what you did for me, you can hug me for four to five seconds. Y/N: FORTY-FIVE SECONDS?!? Ghost: No! Four to five seconds! Soap: Too late!!!

Y/N: If you were to vacuum up jello through a metal tube, well I think that’d be a neat noise. Ghost: I beg to differ. Y/N: Then Beg. (imagining the silence that would follow this brings me great joy)

Gaz: Are you an ‘arr’ pirate, or a ‘yo ho ho’ pirate? Y/N: I’m a ‘I’m not paying $600 for photoshop’ pirate.

Ghost: Soap and I have the kind of easy chemistry where we finish each other's- Soap: Sentences. Ghost: Don't interrupt me.

Graves: I was arrested for being too cool. Y/N: The charges were dropped due to a lack of supporting evidence. (a wild Graves appears!)

Y/N: I learned some very valuable lessons from this. Gaz: I’m guessing they are all horrible distortions on the lessons you actually should’ve taken away. Y/N: Death isn’t real, and I’m basically God.

Y/N: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them. Soap: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

Y/N: Walking into a room Sorry I’m late… I was… doing things. Sounds of running footsteps progressively getting louder Graves: Out of breath THEY PUSHED ME DOWN THE FUCKIN’ STAIRS.

Y/N: I prevented a murder today. Ghost, raising an eyebrow: Really? How’d you do that? Y/N: self-control.

Ghost & Soap: Please, we're begging you to go to a doctor. Y/N: I'm sorry is this OUR stab wound? Stay out of it.

Y/N: You're the love of my life and my best friend, I would do anything for you. Gaz: I want you to eat three meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule. Y/N: Absolutely not.

Y/N: I made tea. Ghost: I don’t want tea. (bold-faced lie) Y/N: I did not make tea for you. This is my tea. Ghost: Then why are you telling me? Y/N: It is a conversation starter. Ghost: That’s a lousy conversation starter. Y/N: Oh, is it? We are conversing. Checkmate.

Soap: I turned out perfectly fine! Price: Soap, this morning you thought a ghost made your toast. Soap: I DIDN’T PUT THE BREAD IN! YOU DIDN’T PUT THE BREAD IN!!! Y/N, leaning over to whisper to Gaz: should we tell him it was actually Ghost? Gaz: nah Rudy: So he thinks a ghost made it, when it was actually our Ghost? Y/N: beautifully ironic, isn't it?

König: I’m going to take you out Y/N: great, it’s a date! König: I meant that as a threat. Y/N: See you at five! (god, I need to be taken out as well.)

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.✭・♛ 　 ∧＿∧ （｡･ω･｡)つ━☆・*。 ⊂　　 ノ 　　　・゜+. しーＪ　　　°。+ *´¨) “Hie thee home, little wanderer.”

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.✭・♛

[starsheild]

Alone

Notes: So this is actually an old fic of mine that I had posted on another site years ago that I happened to stumble across. It's one of my favorites, so uploading it here now.

It cut deep, even though there was no actual physical pain involved. There was nothing wrong with his spark. At least nothing wrong that First Aid would be able to detect with a scanner. He and Jazz had never bonded, had never allowed themselves that indulgence, no matter how much they had both craved the idea of that closeness.

Most of the crew had no idea how close the two of them had been. Had no idea of the small twinges that had run through Prowl every time he had seen members of the crew moving forward with their lives, at least as well as anyone could in the middle of a war, and being denied that same chance himself.

It was no external source that had stayed their actions and leashed their emotions and desires. It was internal, an agreement and understanding between the two of them. A precaution against a circumstance such as this.

Even though neither of them ever imagined this sort of scenario. One of them passing on during the course of the war they expected. Both of them dying before the end of the war was certainly not beyond the realm of probability. But neither of them had expected to survive their Prime.

And now Prowl found himself virtually alone. There was a new Prime. There was a new command staff. And he was alone. There were others left from his generation, this was true, but all of them had somehow blended seamlessly into the new command structure.

There was nothing for him to do, and what was even worse was the fact that no one was interested in trying to find something for him to do. All of his requests for some sort of work, for some sort of direction and purpose, had been denied. For medical reasons, they kept insisting. For his own good, the responses always read.

When Prowl had confronted First Aid about this the young medic had looked thoroughly appalled and, much to Prowl's sorrow and pity, apologetic. In fact, the young mech had been unable to meet his optics, looking at the floor, the wall, the empty berth, anywhere but a direction where he would meet the optics of the mech he was speaking to.

"I've tried Prowl. But I'm still young, and my word doesn't carry a lot of weight around here yet. And I'm, I'm no-" First Aid had choked there, and Prowl had been able to finish the sentence that the young medic could not. I'm no Ratchet. I'm no force of nature to bend all to my will, from the lowest recruit to the Prime himself.

"I keep telling them that you don't need the time. Don't want the time. To give you something to do. And they keep refusing me. I don't know why…"

Prowl had thanked him quietly and went on his way. He knew why, even if Frist Aid did not. He was not worth the effort. He was old, out of date and obviously damaged. There was no place for him in the new command staff, and there was no place for him among the common soldiers, for he had been an officer far to long for them to accept him among their ranks again. And there was no one with the time to spare to find something for him to do.

His fears confirmed, Prowl made his way back to his old office and set down at his terminal. Even when his position as Second in Command had been revoked no one had taken over his space. No one had needed or wanted the place where he had done so much work.

Prowl almost wished they had. Even if it was a place where he had spent countless joors stressed, overworked, under-fueled and on the verge of offlining from lack of recharge, the room had some good memories too.

There, on the far wall, was the dent he had never bothered to have fixed from one of the twins pranks backfiring. He never had been quite able to figure out what Sideswipe thought he was doing with those magnets, but it had been rather entertaining to come in that morning and find the mech suspended from the wall by his aft.

Feeling thoroughly vindictive and not at all responsible for getting the red mech out of the position he managed to find his way into, Prowl had left him there for the entire day. Sideswipe had not gotten down until his twin had shown up to rescue him later that evening. And even then the yellow Lamborghini had threatened to leave Sideswipe there to suffer from his own stupidity.

Jazz had laughed when Prowl had told him the story. The saboteur had been away on a mission when the red twin had made the attempt, and the light-sparked tale, related in Prowl dry brand of humor, had been what the mech had needed to relieve some stress.

It had not hurt that Jazz had fallen from his chair when Prowl had added in a little detail. Prowl had left Sideswipe hanging on the office wall all day on the mechs only day off that week.

"Cold mech! Cold! Guess' that's jus' incentive fer me ta make sure mah pranks gonna roll when I pull it."

A prank that would never happen now.

Venting softly, Prowl began to write what was probably the last official document he would ever submit as an Autobot.

[ravenrune]

I started writing something smutty over a year ago, and I actually finished it. I normally don't write smut, so don't expect anything fantastic. Still, this exists now, and I've never been more anxious about posting something. Word count: 1027. Carlos x AFAB reader. Warnings: Fingering. Oral sex. Vaginas and stuff. NSFW. I don't know what I'm doing.

All about you

You were standing in the storage room, sorting through a large number of boxes, when you heard him approach you. Before you could even turn around, two strong arms wrapped around your body, and soft lips grazed your ear. 

“Hey, babe…” His voice sounded dark, darker than usual, so you immediately knew what he was after. “You’ve been so busy today, have you forgotten about me?” 

You sighed as his teeth gently nipped at your earlobe. “Carlos, what…” Your sentence was cut short when Carlos’ right hand trailed down your abdomen and started to undo your belt. “What are you doing?”

Carlos chuckled, a sound you could practically feel between your legs. “What do you think I’m doing?”

“I don’t…” A soft moan escaped your mouth as Carlos placed a tender kiss on your neck, slowly trailing his mouth along your shoulder. You leaned forward a bit, placing your hands on the table in front of you. You were feeling a bit overwhelmed with the sudden, unexpected arousal. “What are you doing?” You whispered under your breath.

“Well, minha querida, you’ve really been turning this place into a home since we moved here... And I haven’t been doing much around the house because I’ve been working most of the time,” Carlos muttered, undoing the button of your jeans and dipping his hand under the waistband. It settled on your panties. He applied a small amount of pressure and laughed quietly as you subconsciously rolled your hips into his hand. “And you know, I was just thinking I should thank you by… well… making this all about you.” 

You gasped as his fingers started caressing your vulva through your panties, and made an attempt to turn around. Carlos wouldn’t let you do so, however, keeping a firm grip around your waist as he pulled down your panties a bit and started slowly circling your clit with his fingers. 

You moaned, trying not to lose your balance. This wasn't something he'd ever done before, and you wondered if he could feel your wetness on his fingertips. 

He could. Carlos chuckled. "What would you like me to do?" He whispered into your ear. 

"Fuck me," you replied, breathless. "Please."

"Nah, can't do that, babe," he replied, slipping a finger inside of your warmth. "It's about you, not about me." He thrust it in a bit further before removing it again. 

"Carlos," you moaned, "don't stop now."

"Weird position, babe." He turned you around and pulled down your pants, your panties coming off with them, before picking you up. He carried you to the washing machine that was standing in the corner and placed you on top of it. "This should do." 

Your butt was right on the edge of the machine, and you leaned back and grabbed onto the machine to make sure you wouldn't fall off. Before you could process what was really happening, Carlos gently spread your legs and dropped to his knees. 

The feeling of his soft, gentle lips on your vulva made you feel weak. It was a good thing you were holding on to the washing machine, or otherwise, you'd have fallen off straight away. You tried to relax as Carlos ran his tongue along your soft, sensitive folds. Carefully, you took one hand off the machine and ran it through his messy hair. 

Carlos continued to nibble and suckle on your labia for a few moments before running his tongue straight over your clit, causing you to let go of his hair and grab the machine with both hands again. It was unbearable. You could already feel yourself climbing to the top of the ladder, almost ready to come. 

He stopped for a moment, and you couldn't suppress a whine. "Carlos, please, just… fuck me."

He looked up at you and smirked. "Fine. Fine, have it your way." He stood up and placed himself between your legs before sliding two fingers inside of you. You tried to grind into his hand, but it was too difficult because you were sitting on plastic. "Now, now, just lemme do it, okay?" 

Carlos started thrusting his fingers deeper and deeper into your now soaking sex, bending them slightly whenever he pulled out. 

He loved this. He loved the look on your face, the sounds you made and the sight of your white knuckles holding on to the washing machine for dear life. He loved how comfortable you seemed with him in such a vulnerable position. He loved it. He loved you. Fuck, how much he loved you. 

"Carlos, please, so close…" You moaned. You were starting to get a bit dizzy. It was a bit much, but it felt so goddamn good. "Please, just finish me." 

Attentively, Carlos placed his other hand on your waist, making sure you wouldn't slide off by accident. He leaned forward a bit and placed a gentle kiss on your open mouth, only touching your tongue very lightly with his own. 

He then thrust a few more times, as deep as he could get, until he could feel your walls contracting around his fingers. He kept caressing your labia as you rode out the orgasm, leaning into his arm. 

You sighed and tried to gather your thoughts. Normally, you'd have preferred his dick, but the man definitely knew how to use his fingers, too. 

"That was mental," you whispered. "Holy shit, that was mental." 

Carlos laughed and picked you up from the washing machine. With you still in his arms, he planted a kiss on your nose. "You're fucking beautiful, you know that?"

You laughed, still feeling a bit out of this world. "You didn't get anything, though… Do you want me to blow you?" 

"Nope. Like I said, all about you." Carlos smirked. "I'm gonna need a cold shower, though," he said, pointing at the erection you could see through his jeans. He put you back on your feet and started making his way to the bathroom.

You watched in silence as your man left the storage room. Leaning against the washing machine, you knew you'd never be able to look at that thing as just a washing machine ever again.

[gurugirl]

I love stepdad Harry! Always brings a smile to my face when i see youve posted (guilty pleasure yum). Thank you for the last one!

but i cannot get enough of stepmom reader. You’ve made that one into something really special. In fact I told someone about it last week and they were like ~ nope. Not into stepmom stuff or older yn. Nope ~

but then guess what? they wound up reading it and binged all three parts and admitted to me that they were wrong 😂 I’m like ‘yeah I know’

just wanted to share that with you! Your stepmom fic is so shockingly good (not shocking bc you’re not a good writer, shocking bc it’s a trope most of us were not interested in) that it’s quickly become my top 5 all time favorite.

i cannot wait for part 4! I adore them and you so much. Do you have any idea when part 4 will come out? Any sneaky???

ps.. sorry for the weird capitalization stuff going on there. My phone decided when to capitalize randomly and I’m too lazy to fix.

A Good Boy sneak peek under the cut below!

🥹 thank you so much, babe. Really glad you liked the stepdad!harry from yesterday! That was a quick little fun thing to write.

As for stepmom!reader - wow! I really love that you're liking it so much and talking about it with other people and that your friend changed their mind 😂 Seems to be the theme for that fic. So many of y'all didn't think you'd like it based on the trope alone but I'm surprised that you guys did enjoy it anyway! Makes me smile.

So, I'm almost done with part 4. I think I can have it out by Thursday? Maybe? I'm super busy today (well, busy for me LOL) and gonna try to write but I've also got something I'm working on that someone paid me to write so I'm prioritizing that. Thursday at the earliest I'll post part 4 but I'll let y'all know.

And the random capitalization? My phone does the same. 😂 The words can't, can, and don't often get capitalized in the middle of sentences and it's a crapshoot on when the beginning of a sentence will be capitalized or not. I need to turn it off so it just leaves everything lowercase. So no judgement from me!

Sneak peek below !! (just remember this is literally copied from the word doc I'm writing in and hasn't been proofread or edited so some changed may be made before I post part 4)

Y/n was wearing her newly altered peach silk dress. The alterations were simple. The straps and hem were adjusted and the back column was dropped down a bit to drape to her low back. Her strappy nude heels were well-worn but comfortable because she was just simply not in the mood to wear the stiff, new heels she’d just bought.

The estate of Rebecca Manera was impressive. Probably equally as impressive as Leonardo Styles’. Most of the guests had already arrived by the time the Styles’ walked through the front door a little late.

Leo scolded Y/n for taking so long to get ready and making them run behind but in all honesty, she didn’t give a fuck. They could be half an hour late. No one would care. Why rush to go to a party? It’s not like they needed to clock in and earn a paycheck.

“It’s rude, Y/n. That’s why it matters. You’re so goddamn rude sometimes. You only think about yourself.”

She turned sharply to look at her husband in shock. That was the first time he’d ever said such a thing to her. Normally he had no opinion on how she conducted herself. She was chronically late. Yes, she could admit that was a flaw in her character but she was on time when it really counted. But to get so worked up over a party? And to insult her on top of it?

That had set the whole mood for the night. And now she was even more suspicious about this Rebecca.

But when Rebecca did make her appearance and introduced herself to Y/n she was taken aback. The woman had to be in her 50s. She was pretty, sure, but not quite Leo’s type. If Y/n were any sort of indicator of a type.

Servers walked around with trays and served the couples in attendance. There were only ten couples there as well as Rebecca’s two daughters, Y/n learned. Quite the intimate affair really.

Leo brought a glass of wine to Y/n as she chatted with Mrs. Topman (she never learned her first name, as the woman literally introduced herself as Mrs. Topman).

“Here you are darling.” His green eyes shined down at her before searching the room casually. She was on to Leo. But she found it odd that the woman he was with in the Hamptons was Rebecca. She was intrigued.

She watched Rebecca mingle and sip wine and laugh and there was nothing there that made Y/n think Leo would be interested in her sexually. But maybe that was it, Y/n thought to herself as she cocked her head to the side watching the woman speak boisterously. Maybe it wasn’t sexual. Maybe it was a woman he felt a deeper connection with than he did with Y/n. Perhaps it hadn’t started sexual but led there.

The snack table was set up with decadent treats. Y/n picked up a toast smeared with something pink, topped with heart-shaped tomatoes on top as she scanned the room for Leo, wondering where he’d gone off to. It hadn’t been that long but knowing about Rebecca being with him made things feel like she was in some kind of true crime detective story and was trying to get to the bottom of a mystery. Though there was no crime being committed, she could entertain herself with that thought.

“Are you enjoying your time tonight?”

Y/n turned her sight to Rebecca who was next to her picking up the same toast with pink schmear.

“It’s amazing. Your home is so lovely, Mrs. Manera,” she smiled and noted the woman’s massive diamond ring in addition to her massive diamond wedding ring.

“Why thank you. Phineas has put in so much work to make this large shell into a lovely cozy home.”

Y/n nearly spat her bite out. The home was anything but cozy.

“It’s incredible. Where is Mr. Manera tonight?”

“Oh, just over there,” she pointed to a man in tweed with thick black-framed glasses, “You haven’t met yet?”

Rebecca led the way as Y/n walked in her wake to meet Mr. Manera. She had still not spotted her own husband.

“Phineas, dear, this is Mrs. Styles. Leonardo’s wife.”

The man held his hand out, “Very nice to meet you, Mrs. Styles.”

“Likewise. You can call me Y/n.”

 “Well, Y/n. We’re happy to have you here. Where’s Leo anyway? Haven’t seen him.”

Turning around quickly to look over her shoulder she shrugged and faced the man and his wife again, “Not sure actually. I haven’t seen him in a bit myself,” she laughed. And before she could even think about what she was implying she spoke to Rebecca, “But I’m sure you’ve seen enough of him since you saw him in the Hampton’s this weekend.”

Rebecca and Phineas’ smiles dropped as they looked at one another and then back to Y/n, “I haven’t been to the Hamptons in over a decade. Are you sure you’re not mistaking me for Parker? Our daughter? She was just there all weekend with her girlfriends.”

A Good Boy Masterlist

A Good Boy tags: @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs @shishcabobsworld @daphnesutton @spinnerswife69 @holy-macncheese-balls @cookielovesbook-akie @lilfreakjez @itsgigikay @amateurduck

[girlbossblackbeard]

s2 brain thoughts: the squeakuel (ep 2)

as a reminder, if u see me posting any of these points as their own posts mind ur business:

-i'm sending my hospital bills to david jenkins for weaponizing thef cuking "you wear fine things well" scene WITHOUT ANY KIND OF WARNING i literally almost choked to death from shock

-hey so what the whole actual fuck is up with transitioning directly from the very painful "you wear fine things well" scene which, as we've already established, has REAL HUMAN CASUALTIES DUE TO THIS USE-CASE, into the "run from me darling" lyric overlayed on top of the god damn shot of ed pAINTING THE BRIDE CAKE TOPPER TO LOOK LIKE HIM AND BASICALLY PLAYING OUT HIS FANTASY OF MARRYING STEDE. david jenkins you have committed crimes

-also!!!!!!!!!! that cake topper has kohl smudged all over it so you KNOW our boy ed has been caressing it against his cheek and sighing longingly

-i know we've all talked about how insane the "ed plays with the wedding cake toppers pretending they're him and stede" scene is but i don't think we've really comprehended how GENUINELY INSANE it is like??? edward teach, blackbeard, the kraken, the scourge of the seven seas, the most fearsome pirate the caribbean has ever known that has recently been on a non-stop slaughtering spree, painted a bride wedding cake topper to look like himself which he then scoots next to a wedding cake topper that looks like stede so he can imagine that he's marrying him. this man carefully rubbed kohl on a cake topper to give it darker skin and darker hair and a BEARD. to make it look more like himself. so he could then. put it next to a cake topper that looked like stede. and pretend. they were getting married. i've written that 3 times now and my brain STILL refuses to fully process those sentences.

-i said it in my first brain thoughts post for ep 1 and i'll say it again: every time im reminded that ed has been crying NON-STOP. EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. for MONTHS. over stede. my wall gains another hole

-the way ed is so delirious in his sadness as he pushes the cake toppers out the window. i don't even have any thoughts on that i feel like all i can do is just note it and let y'all deal with the rest

>>actually I lied, he literally watches them sink into the sea after he pushes them out the window that's so fucked up whomever made that decision to make him do that is so fucked up

-"the sea is restorative isn't it" "YYYYEEESSS QUEEN!!!!!!!!!! I'VE ALWAYS SAID SO!!!!!!!!!!!!" "ohh that guy knows" IS THE MOST UNDERRATED EXCHANGE IN THE ENTIRE SERIES IT LITERALLY HAD ME SHAKING WITH LAUGHTER

-would looooooooooooooove to know what went through stede's head as soon as roach mentioned "some place called China??" like did he immediately think of the kiss or getting sent to the naval academy or the kiss or ed's excitement at the prospect of running away together or the kiss or getting kidnapped by chauncey or the kiss or watching chauncey shoot himself in the dome or the kiss or his flop behavior of running back to his family that doesn't even want him or the kiss or

-the crew of the red flag being so immediately kind and welcoming to stede and his crew <3

-i genuinely cannot wait to watch buttons fully immerse himself in the red flag traditions like he was made to be on that crew

-"how should I put this, your energy is..." can't believe they got hatecrimed like that

-RAT BOY

-HE'S HERE

-OUR BOY IS HERE

-fun fact: i recorded my live reaction to episodes 1 - 3 and posted the clip of my friends and i reacting to lucius coming back because we were quite literally jumping for joy and crying over the reunion and THE illustrious Nathan Foad himself told me it was literally the cutest thing he's ever seen (his words, not mine!!) so we're basically best friends forever now and the rest of my life will be spent chasing the high of the happiness i felt during that interaction

-i am also crying once again over his reappearance and i think that's just gonna happen every time i watch this scene :')

-roach's shocked face when lucius appears is something that can actually be so personal

-the way they all dogpile on top of him because they're so happy to see him bitch what the FCUK

-also stede's STUPID LITTLE "huh!" LIKE??????????? THAT WAS YOUR SCRIBE AND RELATIONSHIP GURU YOU HEARTLESS MONSTER WHERE IS THE ENERGY AND EXCITEMENT AT KNOWING HE ISN'T FUCKING DEAD??????????????

-"i love it" *BIG SMOOCH* "i love all of it" *BIGGER SMOOCH* oh so they're trying to kill me by smothering me in the syrupy sweetness of their love. okay

-okay sorry but lucius's absolutely microscopic furrowing of his brow right before black pete kisses him again. for a split second he had a slight look of sadness which lines up with the very real trauma he's endured and how even in extremely happy moments they can be tinged with sadness - maybe a sadness for the past and the way things could've been if he hadn't been pushed off the boat - and all i can say is nathan foad. ur big powerful acting mind

-we gotta talk about lucius choosing not to reveal that ed had pushed him off the ship in front of the whole crew. i'm still trying to figure out if that was him trying to spare stede's feelings (unlikely considering he lets it all out later), spare black pete's feelings (possible, since he knows black pete idolizes blackbeard), prevent himself from having to relive that trauma in front of his friends when he's not prepared to confront those memories, or a combination of all of the above

-"i fell. off the ship." "that doesn't sound like you. you have impeccable balance, babe" i literally love black pete so much i may legally have to change my name to lucius spriggs

-"toouwelss? what is this? are these jobs?" stede i love you so very much to the moon and back but for the love of god you gotta shut it my guy

-I AM LITERALLY SO EXCITED FOR THE BUTTONS SEA WITCH STORY ARC LIKE IT MAY ACTUALLY BE ON PAR WITH MY EXCITEMENT TO SEE ED AND STEDE PROPERLY REUNITE AND OPENLY LOVE EACH OTHER AGAIN

-ed just. washing the door handle. i dont have any other thoughts

-GODDDDDDD HE'S SERVING SOOOOOO MUCH GENDER WITH HIS LIL HAIR BUN AND MOSTLY CLEANED UP WAR PAINT AND DANGLY EARRINGS AKEFJAPWHFA OPERGJAER

-the way frenchie looks genuinely happy for ed when he says he thinks he got all the poison out of his system and it's a new day :((

-idk much about piracy but i really don't think there's a rule about the new first mate traditionally having to kill the old first mate, i think ed just made that up so someone else would have to kill izzy instead of him. despite everything, despite how low he's sunken into the very dark parts of his mind due to the heartbreak, ed still can't bring himself to deal the killing blow

-"i expect great things from you" might be one of the more chilling lines in that interaction because for THE blackbeard to have not just any expectations from you, but GREAT expectations? that's not a compliment, that's a threat. measure up to what blackbeard thinks you should be or else

-can't comment on the amputation scene too yucky sorry

-stede trying to triangulate ed's coordinates based off of his string of crimes on a map HE drew is me trying to triangulate where tf this season is going based off of buckwild theories i've made up and used as the foundation for even more buckwild theories

-yeah idk what the mushy ass lyrics stede wrote on that map mean but i know they're frighteningly homosexual

-"FUCK YOU. that's how i am" I am SO glad lucius gets to be openly bitchy towards stede it feels like a cathartic release for me personally

-ed's fuckin "heyyyy" to frenchie in the kitchen is both hilarious and unbelievably unsettling

-absolutely obsessed with the writers for once again showing just how scarily observant and intelligent ed is when he calls frenchie out for using his right hand to mime killing izzy even though he's actually left handed

-i really admire how david chose to use a low camera angle that looks up at ed as he reveals to frenchie that he's well aware he hasn't killed izzy yet because taika's performance was already unsettling enough but that specific angle adds so much to his overall menacing presence in that scene

-joel fry's performance in the kitchen scene with ed literally makes me want to bite something he's so good at acting quietly terrified

-this is almost certainly an unpopular opinion but i really would've loved to see more buildup to jim and archie kissing. i just feel like we know NOTHING about her let alone her relationship with jim prior to the two days we've seen them interacting and i feel like that kiss would've felt like a much more satisfying payoff if we had seen more interactions between them before they got to that point. i would've taken delaying that kiss by a few episodes if it meant feeling fully invested in it once it did happen, but i also know the show already has so much material to get through (which is why we should've gotten 10 eps but i digress)

-"hey no one told me this room existed" is giving "i didn't even realize there was piracy happening"

-"take the fuckin leg" is such a perfect line delivery

-love the foreshadowing of olu explaining how the little ships on the war table were all over the place and "some of them were over land"

-roach waxing poetic about the noodles is so relatable

-"jesus christ stede keep your pants on" hands down one of the funniest fucking lucius moments of all time

-sorry but we gotta give a shout out to lucius modifying the chinese fleet uniform so it's sleeveless. the edges are cleanly done so either he was put on tailoring duty at some point and picked it up there or someone on the ship wanted to enable the slayage

-there's something to be said about the fact that the only other man who has lasted being on board the red flag ship is another member of the revenge who was picked up and welcomed into the fold well before stede and the rest of the crew wound up there. something about how stede attracts and retains other people who he can tell are gentle at heart, even if they're putting up a tough front. something about how lucius had bounced from ship to ship until he finally wound up on Zheng Yi Sao's ship where he was allowed to be himself

-"ya don't know............if ya picked up....smokin....." nathaniel buttons my beloved

-OOOOF stede's guilty face after lucius talks about how he must've picked up smoking somewhere. after the crushing guilt he already feels about the ed situation this definitely would've weighed extremely heavy on him

-MY SPICY LIL RAT BOY IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME

-"what the hell is going on in towels" wee john my beloved

-look i know izzy is on the brink of death but he genuinely looks kinda beautiful before ed wakes him up from his shock induced coma and i won't apologize for that

-"my leg" izzy is so fred rechid coded

-"it's up in leg heaven now" i need to know if ed said that as a way of metaphorically digging the knife into izzy and getting back at him for trying to force ed to send stede to doggy heaven in season 1

-i dont have the emotional capacity to dive into the ed and izzy shooting scene rn but just know it destroyed me on a metaphysical level

-"too scared to do it yourself" no because unfortunately now im thinking about ed thinking through taking his own life but coming to the realization that he can't do it. whether it's because of childhood christianity trauma and thinking he'll be sent to hell for doing so or because he knows he can't follow through with it himself if there's still a tiny shred of hope that he'll reunite with stede and everything will be okay again, he always has to outsource the big job

-also, very interesting choice to have almost jovial classical music playing in the background of the ed/izzy scene. it definitely undercut a lot of the tension compared to how supremely uncomfortable and anxiety-inducing the scene would've been if it were dead silent behind the dialogue

-"i loved you...best i could"

-"i've got an ex-wife, two messed up kids probably" LMAO stede acknowledging he would have no way of knowing how fucked up his kids are because of him

-"sounds like you're quite the fuck-up pal" "yeah, i am! and im alone! talk to pete. don't be like me" ohhhhh my god stede is in just as much agony as ed is over this breakup he's just been using his polite society social skills of saving face and never showing how truly devastated you are to others to cover up how supremely messed up he is over all of it. he is BEGGING lucius to talk to pete and NOT make the same mistakes he did because maybe if he can prevent lucius from bottling it up and actually deal with this in a healthy way he can make up for a fraction of all the hurt he's caused not only ed but lucius as well. maybe if he can get lucius to talk to pete he can absolve himself of some of the soul-crushing guilt he feels over how his actions have irreparably damaged the people he cares about the most. maybe if lucius and pete are able to work through this trauma and still come out the other side loving each other just as much or even more than they did before, he can believe that there's still hope for him and ed.

-ed choosing to put on the cravat for what he believes is going to be his last action on earth before dying because he's resigned himself to his fate but is still scared shitless by it and wants that modicum of comfort that stede will always be able to provide him no matter how badly he hurt ed is giving me the urge to find the nearest cast iron skillet and loony toons my skull

-"some people are just broken no matter what you do" noooo why do i feel like lucius was talking about himself when he said that to stede about ed ://

-oof i know they were an unnamed character but fang tried to save someone who went overboard during the storm and wasn't able to :(

-GGGOOOODDDDDDD izzy looks so fucking hot and badass all soaking wet and leaning up against the rigging after shooting ed jesus christ

-"finally" ed was so relieved to have his pain finally end. even after his journey of self discovery in the next episode im really curious how he's going to deal with having to confront the pain he thought he escaped in addition to the pain he inflicted on others while failing to cope with that pain and stopping at nothing, including nearly killing the rest of the crew, to end it

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Thunder Pt.1 | Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader

"Honey, if you're on fire, you're on fire Just keep burning, keep me alive Spare your blade"

You've spent the last couple of months telling yourself that your relationship was purely physical but what are you to do when Ghost comes crashing in late at night needing more.

CW: Depictions of Violence

(smut will be in pt. 2)

A late dinner of frozen pizza, a cigarette, and a strong drink. You told yourself it was almost French so it was okay. You put on some music and swayed around your flat, a little too drunk to sing on key.

"Just do it, just do it, don't wait." You sang even when the song moved on. You were always a homebody deep down, that was the one good thing about not being in the field. You had a flat instead of a tent or barrack. You could sign and dance and drink and inevitably pass out on the couch.

There was a knock on the door; three quick raps. He was there, in all his muscular glory. He still had his duffle meaning he was coming straight from base. He wasted no time pushing in and lifting up his mask to kiss you. You heard the door kick shut as he pushed both of you toward the dining table.

You stumbled under your own feet. He caught you with one thick arm around the waist. He sighed deeply, closing his eyes.

"You're drunk."

"It's okay," You said, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck trying to reconnect the kiss.

"I'm not gonna fuck you when you're drunk, love. I'm not a cunt." He helped you into a chair and walked back towards the door.

"You're leaving?" You tried not to sound upset but the alcohol had made everything sound wet.

"Sorry, love. Really only came here for one thing. I'll catch you tomorrow, m'kay?"

"Stay..." He stopped, hand on the doorknob. You added quickly "I can make you a drink. You just got back, relax a bit."

He was hesitant. You and Ghost had only had a physical relationship. He didn't stay for a drink, he came in, you fucked and that was that. The most he'd ever asked from you was a post-sex cigarette.

"I'm not going to be drunk in the morning." That convinced him and had him turning back around to you.

"You got bourbon?"

"No, sorry. Got whiskey though."

"That'll have to do."

He was tense, even more so than usual. You fixed him a whiskey on the rocks, and his eyes followed you around the whole time.

"I'm sorry," you said handing him the glass.

"What for?"

"Being drunk."

"I'm not expecting you to live your life around me, love." He ran a hand over your hair. "I'm not gonna be rough with you if you can barely stand on your own."

"You were going to be rough?"

"Oh, yeah." He chuckled.

"You're always a little rough." You slide a hand up the sleeve of his coat, running your fingers over his muscles.

"Had a bad couple of weeks." There was a somberness to his sentence. You never talked about work with each other. You knew the type of shit SAS got involved with. His unit wasn't under your watch anymore. You got moved to domestic intelligence. You didn't need to talk.

You took his wrist and led him to the couch, you laid down and beckoned him to follow.

"I'm cold, be my blanket." He laid back, his head resting on your chest. You rubbed his shoulders, loving the feeling of him relaxing under your touch. You hummed along to the music still playing in the background. He drank in silence, one hand rubbing your calf.

"New recruit died." He finally said. Your hands had cracked his shell.

"I'm sorry."

"I've seen a lot of people die. He was standing next to me, half his head was missing when he hit the ground. I should have made sure it was clear." He was matter of fact as he spoke, his tone divulged no secrets. His eyes were heavy though, staring at the glass in his hand. 

"It's not your fault."

"It is. Captain Price is probably on his way to his ma's house right now." His grip tightened around your calf. He never talked like this before. Any emotion was taken out on you when he pushed himself inside. 

"Why aren't you going?" 

"Carried his body nearly three kilometers. I'm fucking exhausted, love." You leaned down and kissed his head. He had this hard appearance but you remember how his eyes looked when it was you bleeding out under him. He carried deeply about the people around him. You always knew something bad had happened when he came crashing into your flat, late a night with the smell of gunpowder and oil still stuck to his skin. He'd take his anger and frustration out on you, fucking you till you couldn't feel your legs and you were crying from pleasure underneath him. You weren't afraid of him but the look in his eye when his hand snaked around your throat reminded you of who he was outside of your little world together. 

"You can't save them all. It'll get you killed if you try."

"Better me than you, love." He finished his drink and twirled the cup in his hand. "Let me know if you go back in the field, won't ya? So I can keep an eye on ya. Took long enough to find you the first time. Hate to have to start over."

"Didn't realize you'd miss me that much."

"Just parts of ya." He slapped your calf before rubbing and kissing the red skin. "Maybe a lot of ya."

"I'd miss you too."

The empty glass sat on the coffee table. He had pulled one of your legs over his shoulder, nuzzling his face against your thigh. You'd promised him breakfast in the morning.

"What kind?" He asked, kissing your thigh.

"Whatever you want."

"Breakfast in bed?" He chuckled.

"If we make it to the bed tonight."

He stretched out, his feet sticking out from over the couch arm. A hand slid up your shirt to the scar on your abdomen. He rubbed his thumb up and down the raised line. The same wound he'd held together almost a year ago. You felt like it was a security blanket for him. A physical sign that he didn't fail you. He saved you. His eyes started fluttering as he rubbed your stomach. You smiled to yourself as he fell asleep, his head resting against your stomach, his mouth just next to your scar. 

You woke up the next morning in your bed with a glass of water on the bedside table and a strong arm around your waist. His hot breath against your neck.