#well maybe they can figure it out BUT at the end of the day???? you still learned a new thing!

[ashwhowrites]

Hi, can i request an angst fic? insecure eddie where there is a misunderstanding with soft reader and due to his rejection trauma, he acts douchy as a defense mechanism. Soft reader, not used to get treated harshly, she turns cold. But then when eddie figured out that reader is more important than his ego, he finally trying to resolve his trauma before reconcile back with reader, although took some time and effort. Happy ending!

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Push away

Eddie knew he protected his feelings to an extreme. He hurt people before they could hurt him. He refused to be close to anyone, people always left. He was horrible at relationships. The second he felt the walls caving in, he was out the door.

Not many people had good things to say about him, and he didn't give them opportunities to.

Y/N was a soft and polite girl. She was quiet but spoke passionately. Y/N didn't talk to many people, but no one had anything bad to say about her. Until Eddie Munson proved that theory wrong.

~~~

Y/N couldn't remember when her crush on Eddie surfaced, but he was all she could think about. They had some classes together, and he sat across the room but at her eye level. She could stare and daydream for as long as she wanted.

It took her weeks to get the courage to say something to him, but she was glad she did. Because after that, a friendship began.

She didn't want to scare him off with her feelings, so she settled for just being his friend first. She could get to know him and enjoy being with him without having it mean anything more.

Eddie actually really enjoyed having her around. He wasn't the best at letting anyone in, but something about her felt comforting and warm. His brain was able to shut off around her. Their friendship felt easy to him. He wasn't worried about impressing her or trying to be someone he wasn't. For once, he was able to be just friends with a girl.

They hung out mostly every day. The second school ended, she was in his van and they'd go to his trailer and watch random movies.

The one thing Y/N didn't think through, was how hard it was going to be to act like she wasn't falling for him. They kept everything at a friend level, and she wasn't sure if it was the best idea to push for more. Eddie was a loner, and she should be grateful she made it this far.

But the more they hung out, and the more he wrapped his arm around her shoulder during movies, she couldn't think straight. All she could think about was holding his hand and feeling his lips move against hers.

"What's going on in there?" Eddie's voice caused her to snap into reality. His finger lightly pushed on her forehead.

"Sorry, what?" She blushed, blinking as she moved her eyes away from Eddie's face.

"You were staring and barely moving. You seemed to be in deep thought. Penny for your thoughts?" He reached over and paused the movie. His full attention was on her as she gulped.

She didn't know what to say. There was no way she was going to confess how she felt about him. But maybe she should? He seemed to be more comfortable with her and he constantly was touching her in some type of way.

Oh for fucks sake, go for it

"I have a crush on this guy, and I can't get him out of my head." She whispered, she worried if she said it loud enough it would be more real.

Eddie wasn't sure what he felt, but it wasn't good. He almost felt hurt that she would admit that to his face. But why should he care, it wasn't like they were dating or that he even liked her that way.

"Oh, well. Why don't you ask him out?" Eddie said he tried to sound like he didn't care. He was helping a friend.

"I can't tell if he likes me back. I enjoy having him in my life and I don't want to scare him off."

"Yeah, that's fair. Maybe compliment him, get close, and lean in for a kiss. If he leans in, go for it." Eddie wanted to smack himself. He didn't want her perfect lips to be touching some loser. But again, he was just a friend and he didn't have a say in that.

"Okay, kinda like this?" She whispered, her heart racing out of her chest as she placed her palm on Eddie's thigh. The rough material of his jeans scratched against her skin as she softly moved her hand down to his knee and then back up again.

Eddie felt his breathing stop as she lingered on his thigh. He wanted to look away but her eyes had him in a daze. His stomach flipped and he hated the way he was slightly turned on. He can't be feeling like this, because then he would have to admit he felt something. He searched his brain for an escape, he tried to move his legs but he was paralyzed.

All he could do was watch in horror as she leaned in. Her eyes searched his as she moved closer, her mouth inches away from his.

"Then I'd kiss him, right?" She whispered against his lips, and before he knew it he leaned in.

She felt the weight off of her shoulders as her lips crashed on his. Her eyes closed as she savored the feeling of his soft lips against hers. Her head spun as he gripped her waist and kissed her back. Her thoughts were gone as their kiss deepened. Her hands moved up his thigh, to his chest then around his neck, he pushed her body against his. He swallowed her moans as his tongue licked her bottom lip. She didn't think twice about opening her mouth to allow his tongue to touch hers.

The moment was perfect

The moment was everything she dreamed

It was everything she needed to say the words

She pulled away breathing heavily, and her eyes fluttered open. Eddie slowly blinked, like he wasn't sure where he was as he stared at her.

Then something snapped.

His hands yanked her arms off of him and he flew off the couch. He paced fire into the floor as he walked back and forth.

"What the fuck was that!"

Y/N was taken aback by how angry he sounded. She nervously tried to form an answer.

"I did what you said." Her voice was calm but confused. "I like you, Eddie."

Her words glued his feet to the floor. He was stuck, his feet felt too heavy to pick up as his breathing picked up.

He felt it

He felt the walls caving in. The room got smaller as he struggled to breathe. Her eyes haunted him as she watched. He felt like his body was being crushed between two walls and he couldn't push them apart.

"Well don't," he spat out harshly. She felt her body flinch as his eyes glared down at her. "I mean what is wrong with you? Why did you have to fuck up the friendship we had?"

She really did not understand why he was so angry. Even if he didn't like her, that wouldn't cause him to be so agitated.

"I'm sorry, I thought you wanted me to! You didn't move my hand, and you leaned in. And you kissed me back. I mean you deepened the kiss. I thought that meant you liked me too" She apologized. She worried she might have made him uncomfortable.

"Why would I like you too? What possible idiotic theory are you basing that on?"

She tried not to cry as she stood up. She wasn't sure who the hell was across from her, because it was not the sweet boy she spent her time with.

"Why are you acting like this? I said I was sorry."

"Because I know if I allow myself to have feelings for you, you'll be the one I spend the rest of my life with," Eddie confessed, and that scared him the most.

"Would that be so bad? I know it's scary, but don't you think we should try?" She asked, she slowly moved closer to him. Her hand softly cradled his face.

Her touch turned him into ice. It was all too much and he needed her gone. He needed her out of his mind, his sight, and his life.

"Yes because I'll have to live with the regret of choosing you."

Y/N yanked her hand off of his face like he burned her. She felt like the air was kicked out of her lungs.

"Fuck you," she spat as hot tears rolled down her face. She turned around to grab her jacket off the couch. She didn't bother putting it on, she slammed the door behind her as she left.

The loud bang echoed through the trailer as the walls moved back to their normal distance. Eddie could feel the air returning to his lungs as he dropped to the floor.

He escaped

But he wasn't sure how long the escaping would feel like freedom.

~~~

Eddie figured if she was out of sight, she'd be out of his mind

But he was wrong

She never left his head. Images of her smiling and laughing. But also the image of her crying and leaving. It's been a few days and they haven't talked. He knew they wouldn't, but he didn't think he'd miss her.

He escaped but this time it felt different. It made him feel worse. There wasn't any relief on his shoulders anymore; bricks piled on until it was too heavy to even stand up.

He missed having a friend. He knew he handled the situation horribly, and he wanted to apologize for it.

~~~

Y/N tried to ignore how awful she felt. She was embarrassed and regretted ever telling Eddie she liked him. But at least he showed his true colors and she could begin moving on.

Y/N hadn't seen Eddie since the big blowout, and Monday approached faster than she wanted. She wasn't sure how seeing him would go, but she knew she would ignore him.

~

Eddie had never felt so nervous to pull up to school, a endless pit settled in his stomach as he walked through the parking lot. He kept his eye out for Y/N's car, he wasn't sure if he wanted to find it or not.

Without catching a glimpse of her, Eddie walked into the school. He planned to wait at her locker until she showed up.

~

Y/N rolled her eyes as Eddie stood at her locker.

"Move," She mumbled with a blank stare.

"Can we talk?" Eddie asked, his voice shaky.

"We are already talking more than I wanted, now move and leave me alone." The seriousness in her voice broke Eddie down a bit, but he knew he deserved it.

He nodded and walked off.

But he wasn't going to give up.

~

Y/N sat at their usual table, Eddie wasn't sure if he was welcome to sit or not. He took a deep breath and dropped his tray on the table. She looked up from her lunch and looked right back down.

Eddie coughed and picked at his tray. His eyes kept peeking up to look at her but her head was always down.

"I'm sorry for what I said," Eddie said but she didn't flinch. "It was wrong and you didn't deserve that."

Y/N let out a heavy sigh and stood up.

She looked Eddie straight in the eyes, he took a deep breath as he waited for her to speak.

But she didn't

She gathered her lunch and walked off.

~

Eddie tried to apologize every single day, he switched his words and tried to say what she needed to hear. A week of silence and he couldn't let it go further.

He knew what happened was because of his past trauma and he felt he needed to understand first. Maybe then he could give her an explanation. So, he began therapy.

Within a few appointments, he understood he pushed her away because he was in love with her.

~~~

Y/N finished writing in her journal when she heard a knock at her window. Her curtains were shut, so whoever knocked was a mystery. She slowly stood up and crept towards her window, she was a tad scared but figured a robber wouldn't be asking for entry.

She peeked through the tiny crack of her curtain and saw Eddie's familiar curls. He stood on the small balcony. She sighed and walked back to bed.

Eddie could see her shadow moving and frowned when her lap shut off. Her room was dark and he lost sight of her. But he would stay here all night if he needed to.

He knocked again and called her name, but no response.

Y/N groaned annoyed at the constant knocks, but still remained in bed.

"I'm sorry. I know I fucked up and I might not ever make this up to you. But I figured out why I reacted that way."

His words made Y/N's ears perk, and she sat up in bed.

"I pushed you away because people always left. The people that I cared for, the people I loved. When you kissed me, I loved it. I felt complete like that emptiness those people left was filled by you. So I panicked, I wanted to leave before you left me. Which was wrong. Because I shouldn't have turned on someone that I love."

Y/N gasped as the final words left his lips. She had to pick between her pride and her heart. And she wasn't positive which one led her in the right direction.

"Can I just see you?" his knock was lighter than the rest, and his voice sounded like he was on the cliff of giving up.

She got out of bed and walked to her window. She pulled back the curtain and opened her window. Eddie smiled as he saw her face.

"Hi," he whispered, afraid to speak louder and frighten her.

"Are you saying you are in love with me?"

"I'm trying to, yes. And I don't expect that to fi-"

Eddie was cut off as Y/N captured his lips in a kiss. Eddie didn't hesitate and kissed her back.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he leaned further in the window. Half his body leaned into her room as he chased her lips as she pulled away.

"It doesn't fix everything but I'm ready to forgive you and we'll fix it together." She said against his lips.

"Thank you," he whispered before he connected their lips again.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff #ashwhowrites

[elfwreck]

I have a friend who isn't anti-porn but it makes her sad that fanfic has a reputation for being porny and usually not very good. I'm fine with both those things and my views mostly align with that of AO3. I disagree with the idea that porn and badness are treated as equivalent, but for most people that's just how they think. But I was wondering if youve ever written something about this?

There is a lot of smut at AO3.

There is a lot of bad writing at AO3.

There's a lot of badly written smut at AO3.

...None of those are problems except for the people who think there is something wrong with those existing, or that there needs to be some external value that "balances" those that make those acceptable to exist as unwanted side-effects of "the good stuff."

The badly-written smut is also "the good stuff."

It's part of the reason AO3 exists. It's not intended to be an archive for "the high-quality fanfic that could be published if it weren't about characters that someone else wrote first"; it's an archive for "what fanfic writers want to write." That makes the terrible writing and the tacky porn and the badly-written tacky porn part of the reason the archive exists.

Tangent 1 (I'll connect these points later): Theodore Sturgeon said "90% of everything is crud." He was more-or-less referring to the science fiction field in the 50s, but it definitely extended to politics, business, and writing outside of science fiction.

...He was talking about published books in the 50s. Turns out, a lot more than 90% of writing is crud when there aren't any gatekeepers between it and the readers. But also:

Tangent 2, from the book "Art and Fear":

[A] ceramics teacher announced on opening day that he was dividing the class into two groups. All those on the left side of the studio, he said, would be graded solely on the quantity of work they produced, all those on the right solely on its quality. His procedure was simple: on the final day of class he would bring in his bathroom scales and weigh the work of the “quantity” group: fifty pound of pots rated an “A”, forty pounds a “B”, and so on. Those being graded on “quality”, however, needed to produce only one pot — albeit a perfect one — to get an “A”. Well, came grading time and a curious fact emerged: the works of highest quality were all produced by the group being graded for quantity. It seems that while the “quantity” group was busily churning out piles of work – and learning from their mistakes — the “quality” group had sat theorizing about perfection, and in the end had little more to show for their efforts than grandiose theories and a pile of dead clay.

You don't get to "quality writing" without going through a lot of crappy writing.

That doesn't mean the crappy writing is garbage to be thrown out. If you make 50 pots or bowls or vases, and only one of them is The Good One... most of the rest are okay. Maybe not sale-quality good, but your-kitchen-table quality good. Maybe some aren't that good and are kids-toy-in-the-sandbox level good.

Bad writing has a purpose for the writer: they can use it as practice to get better. It has a purpose for the reader: It can serve as inspiration ("I can do better than that") or grammatical instruction ("that...does not work; why doesn't that work?") or just as entertainment ("eh, so it's missing a few commas; I can still understand it").

Smut and porn writing works the same way. It's of some value to the writer, and some to the readers.

It's not of value to everyone. That's what tags and filters are for, and why there's a summary and list of stats (like word counts)--so you can figure out if you're one of the readers for whom this piece of writing is useful or interesting.

But AO3, like any library, is not there to take the top 5% of Excellent Writing and provide it a showcase. It is absolutely for all 50 lbs of pots.

If your friend wants to read the good stuff, there are rec lists and collections to help her find it.

If she already manages that, and is just annoyed at how much of the not-good stuff (however she defines that) exists... she's picked the wrong battle. She's arguing with the ocean that it has too many kinds of fish and some are poisonous a lot of them are ugly.

#Anonymous #ao3

[kydrogendragon]

"I simply said I believed he was lonely. And that was the reason for the games he had played with me back in Port Townsend," Edwin says, sitting with one leg resting on the knee of his other.

It's late in the New Inn and Hob just finished cleaning up the lobby. The Dead Boy Detective group—or as Hob joked, the Scooby Gang—have taken up a near permanent residence here now, given that Hob doesn't mind their presence and lets Crystal stay with them rent-free. In return, she helps out with designing the chalkboard ads he keeps outside the inn.

"And how'd his royal highness take that?" Charles laughs.

"Quite well, actually," Edwin replies. "I do believe we parted on good terms, given everything that happened. He gifted me that lily and parted amicably."

"Huh, weird. Figured he'd be the kind to get grumpy about being called lonely," Crystal says, circling the rim of the glass in front of her with her finger.

"Oooh, maybe he really is lonely and by you saying that, and him giving you that flower, that was his shy way of agreeing with you and wishing you would stay so he could be un-lonely!" Niko chimes.

"You do remember him, right? Same Cat King? That man does nothing shyly. Man? Cat? Whatever." Crystal says.

"Well, I think it's romantic," Niko replies. She whips her head back to Edwin, clapping her hands together. "You should have said you were lonely too, Edwin! Then it would have been the perfect moment to lean in for a kiss cause you both could be lonely together!"

Edwin clears his throat. "Well. I did, perhaps, say something along those lines, but I assure you there was no kissing nor being 'lonely together'."

"Yo Gad-man? Everything alright there? You look like you've seen a ghost," Charles says with a smirk. Hob realizes, in that moment, he's stopped stacking chairs half-way. His mind, lost both in the kid's conversation but also playing his meeting from 1889 on loop.

It's not often, he imagines, that one calls a supernatural being lonely, with the intent of telling them you're lonely as well, but clearly it went much better for Edwin than it had Hob. He's trying not to feel jealous over it. It's an irrational emotion. And it was clearly a different situation to him and Dream.

But still.

He shakes his head and stacks the chair back on the table, where it should have been minutes ago. "Fine, fine! Just running low on steam. Long week."

The kids shrug and return to their conversation, drifting away from the Cat King and onto their latest mystery. Hob retreats to the back and sighs. He never did get to explain himself properly to Dream, who also happens to be a king. What is with this weird amount of similarities? Maybe that's just guaranteed to happen if you live so long. Regardless, they never did talk much of that meeting. Or much of before, honestly. Hob wonders if Dream even knew what he had been trying to say back then. It certainly wasn't to accuse him of being lonely or to somehow gloat that Hob wasn't. Because he was. He was lonely, too.

Now, unlike Edwin's story, he'd have loved if his conversation had ended with that kiss like Niko said. Course that would never happen but he would have taken a smile. Or parting amicably. Literally anything else than storming out into the rain.

Hob rests his head against the cool metal of the fridge and sighs. Maybe one day he can try and redo that day with Dream, though he'll probably make the man swear he won't storm out again first.

#dead boy detectives #the sandman #dbd #hob gadling #dreamling #vaguely #ky writes #i just find the parallels between Edwin and the Cat King and Hob and Dream's convos hilariously similar

[youcouldmakealife]

SOTM: Gabe/Stephen; largesse (pt II)

For the prompt: Gabe and Stephen being sappy at SOME point

Follows this.

Early on, Gabe worries he’s wrong about his 'Stephen loves holidays' thesis: Easter’s during Passover that year, and neither of them do anything for it, unless you count Stephen buying a few bags of mini eggs from the drug store when they go on clearance after, and Gabe doesn’t. At this point mini eggs are entirely secular — they’re not even a seasonal thing. Gabe saw a Christmas edition of them a few months back, though he’s not sure how eggs are supposed to be involved in Christmas. Maybe another gift for Santa? Cookies and milk aren't a very well-balanced diet, some eggs can't hurt.

But then Mother’s Day arrives, and while Gabe orders his mom flowers, Stephen leans over him, sighing about needing to get his mom something, but not flowers, because his mom doesn’t like flowers, she always makes things difficult, why can’t she just like what everyone else does. This is the third straight day of their annual tradition of brainstorming what to get Anouk — twice annual tradition, actually, it comes up on her birthday too, and probably at Christmas, now that Gabe’s thinking about it, it’s just that Stephen worries about what to get everyone for Christmas, with the exception of Gabe and his parents, and that’s just because he worries about what to get them for Hannukah instead.

And then Father’s Day comes around, and Stephen goes through the exact same process for getting Johan a gift. Then Beth’s birthday, and that Stephen pretends not to care about at all, but then gets her and Anna tickets to a Taylor Swift concert in Toronto that summer, and Gabe’s pretty sure securing those involved either a sizeable amount of time, money, or both.

Gabe’s not proud to say it takes until Johan’s birthday in October to really click into place. Obviously he’s had some suspicions, or he wouldn’t have been observing Stephen’s demeanour so closely, but honestly, he does that as a matter of course — it’s easier than listening to what Stephen says about how he’s feeling, which is usually not true. And that’s if he’s even willing to talk about it, which isn't likely.

Once again, Stephen’s bitching about how hard it is to buy things for his dad, who is, admittedly, not an easy man to find gifts for, and Gabe finally sees right all the way through Stephen's ‘why is gift giving so frequent, it’s absurd’ speech to the fact that it’s honestly not hard to find a gift for someone if you don’t give a shit whether they like it.

Stephen apparently gives so many shits. Innumerable shits. So Gabe figures he can help him out a bit. Do some research, attempt to make a list.

“I doubt most of them are up to snuff, because, you know, Johan,” Gabe says, waving a hand in a way he’s concerned to notice is an accidental but dead on impression of his mother, “But maybe one or two of them will work.”

“Gabe,” Stephen says, looking up from the list.

“It’s nothing,” Gabe says. “Something to do on the road.”

“You printed it out,” Stephen says.

“Seemed easier,” Gabe says. “But I’ll email it to you as well.”

“And colour coordinated it,” Stephen says.

“It was a boring roadie,” Gabe says, though the end of it is kind of breathless, because Stephen’s crushing the air out of his lungs.

“Thank you,” Stephen mumbles, and Gabe brings a hand up to card through his hair.

“It’s nothing,” he says.

~

The packages start arriving two days later.

Gabe sighs, pushing aside two boxes with his foot so he can unlock the door, grabbing one under each arm to bring inside. One of them’s heavy for its size. Probably the knife set.

“Oh good,” Stephen says, looking up from his laptop as Gabe stacks the packages on top of all the other ones in the living room. “I was getting concerned that those weren’t coming.”

“Stephen,” Gabe says. “You can’t give your dad seventeen gifts for his birthday. He’ll just be disappointed every other year.”

And Gabe did say it was nothing, but that list took him two flights, three breakfasts, a dinner, and the recommendations of half the Canucks and most of the support staff, with dads receiving special consideration, to make.

“I can, however, not have to worry about what to get him for the next five years,” Stephen says gleefully.

Gabe sees trouble coming.

“I’m not making a list for everyone,” Gabe says.

“Gabe,” Stephen whines.

“No way,” Gabe says, taking this as a cue to retreat. “You’re on your own.”

“Gabe,” Stephen says, closing his laptop to trail him out of living room. “Please?”

~

The Canucks, unfortunately, are much less helpful when it comes to what to get middle-aged women. Gabe is disappointed but unsurprised.

“You lose a bet, Marksy?” Coach asks when Gabe brings the question to him. He’s married to one, which likely gives him an edge over the Canucks, who Gabe's learned are all a bunch of terrible sons. Well, other than Bullet. The majority of the ideas he does have on this list are just him trying to keep up with Bullet’s stream-of-consciousness.

“Something like that,” Gabe says, and adds his suggestion for a shawl. Sure, it’s already on the list, but it’s never smart to piss off the guy who controls how many minutes you get.

"My wife likes candles too," Coach says. "The ones that smell up the place."

Stephen can't stand scented candles, and Gabe's almost positive he got that from his mom, but Gabe adds it to the list anyway. It'd serve Stephen right to get a faulty list, and maybe he won't be forced to make one for Beth and Anna if he does a purposefully bad job.

Gabe waits until Coach is long gone, and then he makes sure to scribble those ideas out. Sure, he'll probably remember, and Stephen would probably notice even if he didn't, but, well.

May as well get Anouk something nice.

#fic snippet #SOTM #gabe markson #stephen petersen

[kaedekolya]

awakening clarence: the inevitability of tragedy, and what it means to be human

Human or robot, cyborg or android — how is humanity defined, and where is the line that delineates it? Expanding upon my Clarence monster meta, which covered his Godheim, Eden, and modern routes, this analysis delves into how the theme of dehumanisation presents itself in Clarence’s Awakening route — and why tragedy is endlessly, inevitably, intertwined with his being.

[ SPOILERS: Clarence’s Awakening route and his Faint Night Light SSR story, as well as brief mentions of his Godheim and Eden routes. ]

“In my mind, I still consider myself human, but you are free to perceive me as you wish. I don’t mind and I won’t dispute that.” This is the faith that Awakening’s Clarence holds fast to — he thinks, therefore he is. He has a concept of his self, therefore he is human.

This can be chalked up to the impact of one’s environment; for example, Archmage Clarence was co-opted into a scheme and transformed into a mutation at a young age, causing him to grow up with no other concept of the self than the monstrous one forced upon him. In contrast, modern Clarence had solid support systems around him, allowing him to develop a reasonably well-adjusted core identity. Since the Awakening stories are not set in alternate universes, but a potential branch of the future that stems from the present-day modern world, it stands to reason that modern Clarence’s perspectives and attitudes would carry forth into his Awakening timeline.

It is this foundation that affords Clarence the fortitude to hold fast to his belief, even when MC counters it with her claims that he is not human. Then Clarence sees how grief-stricken MC’s expression is, and decides to “respect her decision, regardless of the reason,” “if she is so firmly against accepting his view.” He puts her feelings above his own, acquiescing to her opinion despite it contradicting his. Even so, he still hopes that “maybe one day [they] can reach a consensus on this matter.” Deep down, Clarence still yearns for understanding, for someone to view him the way he views himself.

Awakening’s Clarence is an interesting subversion of his usual dehumanisation trope, running counter to how he often perceives himself as a monster despite being biologically human. In Godheim, the Archmage refuses to see himself as anything other than a monster that isn’t human, even though others recognise his good intentions. In Awakening, MC initially refuses to see Clarence as anything other than an android that isn’t human, despite his protests to the contrary.

(As an aside, there are further parallels between Archmage Clarence and Awakening’s Clarence; both put on a stoic front to protect themselves from feeling further pain. Just as Archmage Clarence spent a century in utter solitude until MC returned to his side, Awakening’s Clarence waited for MC to wake him from an eternal slumber, while she wandered that same time in solitude until she found him again. Both stories end with the promise of eternity — or at least a long, long time — together.)

Clarence’s unwavering sense of self in Awakening makes me think of the Ship of Theseus — when parts of a ship are replaced, at what point is it no longer the original ship? For Clarence, his identity hinges not on his constituent parts, but his awareness of the self. Even if his body is damaged, he is still himself as long as his mind is intact. Clarence’s memories, his reasoning, his emotions, are what form his identity. It is this central focus on the mind and not the body that leads to a lack of regard for his physical wellbeing; his health and safety are secondary to his aims.

In an attempt to figure out the physical properties of his body — whether it is flesh and blood or steel and synthetics — Clarence wounds himself on purpose, cutting through the skin not covered by his mechanical skeleton. He feels the pain as blood flows out, yet the wound heals at an inhuman speed, rendering him unable to “determine if he’s an android, pain and flesh simulated by advanced technology, or a human injected with healing genes.”

Clarence’s readiness to harm himself in order to achieve a certain objective can also be seen in the Book of Tales event, when merman Clarence deliberately hurts himself in hopes of attaining the mermaid’s tear. To Clarence, the injuries sustained to his physical body are insignificant in the face of a greater goal. As long as he can preserve his sense of self, his memories, his purpose, then it is enough for him. Ultimately, Clarence views himself as a tool — as a means to an end.

Arguably, Awakening’s Clarence demonstrates many traits that could easily paint him as a monster. When a hostile drone poses a threat, he destroys it with his bare hand, bolstered by the enhanced strength of his mechanical augmentations. Combat is woven into Clarence’s being; he is innately capable of destruction, in the same way a monster is. His internal programming makes comments and observations as if it is a separate entity, creating a stark disconnect between Clarence’s consciousness and the programmed voice in his head — almost like it is a monster lurking within him.

As much as his combat may be innate, though, so are his emotions. Clarence feels an instinctual trust towards MC, even if he cannot explain or understand where these feelings originate from. After MC falls asleep, Clarence reaches out to her but stops short of touching her face, empathy guiding his actions. “Have you spent all these years like this, slumbering alone in this barren world?” Clarence asks, not recognising that he too had slumbered alone in the hibernation chamber — only recognising her pain, and not his own. He apologises to her, despite not having done anything wrong, despite also suffering through the same solitude that she has.

Upon seeing MC injured, Clarence grows solemn and sorrowful, remarking that he thinks she is “strong, [admirably] strong.” “It must be tough for you[,] living in this world alone for all those years,” Clarence muses, extending her a compassionate kindness he does not allow himself — neither in this world, nor in others. “I don’t know why I [feel the need] to apologise,” he admits. “But I somehow feel that this should have been my responsibility. I should have stayed by your side. I shouldn’t have left you alone.” Once again, Clarence takes the blame upon his own shoulders, turning the guilt inwards. Even when it is not his cross to bear, Clarence nails himself to it, offering himself as penance for wrongs he has not committed.

Clarence is so accustomed to taking responsibility upon himself that he always chooses the simplest option, even if it comes at his own expense. Or perhaps it is precisely because it comes at his own expense, and not that of others, that he is more inclined to choose it. The Archmage did not open himself up to any other methods, staunchly refusing to entertain MC’s suggestions, because he was so firmly set in his conviction to sacrifice himself for his country’s future. The Falcon was ready to shoot himself, never considering the possibility of a third option in the dilemma, because his death was the most straightforward way to help MC achieve her goal.

In much the same way, Awakening’s Clarence dies to save others. His android selves were created both to “commemorate [the pioneer’s] sacrifice,” and for the express purpose of sacrificing themselves to keep his original body away from danger. Sacrifice is woven into their beings, just as it runs through Clarence’s veins. It is this enduring selflessness that leads Clarence down the path of a martyr, time and time again.

Awakening’s movie was a warning for Clarence that opened his eyes to the suffering that his selflessness can, and will, wreak in its wake. His diligent and conscientious nature often has him shouldering the weight of responsibility, but it can also lead to him losing himself in his duty. In order to fulfil his role to the best of his ability, he overextends himself, inadvertently letting himself be consumed by what he believes he ought to be and do. Clarence yearns to save the world, to protect the people that live in it, and so he offers himself up as a tool to be used. He gives himself over to his cause, devoting all of himself to it even as the burden of it devours him whole. A selfless sacrifice that saves countless lives, but that selfishly brings pain to those who care for him.

A good tragedy is at once avoidable and inevitable; avoidable because there are other choices to be made, and inevitable because its actors will always choose the path that leads to despair. It is written into their beings, into who they are as people and what they stand for. There is no other version of this tale, no better outcome, because they are human and they will not pick the rational option. They will pick the option that calls to their heart.

At that crossroads, faced with the risk of venturing towards the power plant and the safety of remaining with his companions, Clarence chooses the former. There is no doubt that he knows he is marching to his death; still, he bears the weight of this sacrifice, in order to fulfil his duty to protect his fellow fighters. Even though there is no guarantee that he will succeed, Clarence undertakes this lonely mission in an effort to do all that he can for the world that he loves. He opts to venture alone into the jaws of danger in order to keep others out of harm’s way, minimising the damage caused to the world and its inhabitants – even if, or perhaps so that, it deals the highest damage to himself. It has always been this way, and will always be this way, for Clarence. The core of the tragedy is that Clarence will always put the world above himself, his duty above his dreams, even if it comes at the cost of everything he is and will ever be.

There’s a parallel, here, with the story of Orpheus. You, as the uninvolved spectator, can criticise him for being irrational, for turning around and losing Eurydice. Yet Orpheus, in that moment, cannot possibly make any other decision. How can you fault a man for having a heart? How can you fault a man for being human?

For all that Clarence is an android, or a cyborg, or a mutant monster, he is also deeply, painfully human. It is impossible for him to be fully rational and objective, and so he pushes himself to his limits in an attempt to be, and berates himself when he cannot. More often than not, Clarence ends up dehumanising himself – both consciously and unconsciously – in order to fulfil his roles and responsibilities. Rather than having them guide his actions, he gives himself over to them, allowing them to shape the core of who he is. Clarence pushes himself to extremes that are rational in the logic of his worldview, but ironically irrational to the external observer that witnesses the depths of his pain.

One particular line in Awakening stood out to me: “What’s important is that you shouldn’t be sad. You should be happy and free. You should be the beam of light that penetrates the thick clouds.” While this line illustrates how Clarence prioritises MC’s happiness, it also illuminates MC’s role in his story. Her presence in his life teaches him that he can seek happiness for himself, too, rather than solely living in servitude of a greater purpose. She is the light that parts the fog, the sunlight that melts the snow. While she may always be part of Clarence’s motivation to save the world and the people who live in it, perhaps she may also become his motivation to save himself, too.

Clarence is always all too ready to be a martyr, because he often believes that his most significant contribution to the world is what he can do for it. As long as his purpose is fulfilled, then it does not matter much what happens to him afterwards; there will be others to fill his shoes. Yet MC, in Awakening, directly challenges this notion. “Clarence is irreplaceable. Even with the same appearance and body, no one could ever take his place,” she asserts. There can be a second Archmage, or another Falcon, or countless clones in his likeness – but there is only one Clarence, who is precious by virtue of who he is and not what he can do. Clarence, whose worth is not defined by his roles and responsibilities, no matter how much he believes it to be so. This is the arc of his growth – learning to view and cherish himself as a person, not a mere tool to be used.

thank you for reading!♡

if you have any thoughts about this meta post, i’d love to hear them! responses are always welcome, and my ask box is open~

for more lovebrush meta: here's my brief azure island analysis + theorising! nervously anticipating clarence's route tomorrow...

#lovebrush chronicles #lovebrush chronicles meta #for all time #clarence clayden #awakening clarence #lbc clarence #lbc spoilers #sol's meta musings

[ifyoucandaniel]

once again nobody asked, but here is a comprehensive list of my favorite shorter Batman fics. my other list was mostly fics 50k and up, so this will be under 50k and oneshots :) i feel like most people have probably read a majority of these but! i love them all so much so here they are

In Love With Justice and Battling in the Wings by Jedi_olympian, 9k, 10k, T. literally who would i be if i didn't include my day one, my bbg: the justice league recruits nightwing and meets the batfam <3

Two Against the World by carolinaa, 36k, T, completed. i reread this all the time :') this is a "tim joins the batfam a little differently" fic as well as a "tim gets an emotional support dog and dick grayson won't leave the lonely kid next door alone" fic <3

Museum Mishap by prettymisskitty, 38k, T, completed. I love smart little stalker tim joining the fam in fun ways! jason and tim get kidnapped after jason tries to figure out if this scrawny jumpy kid knows batman and robins secret identities. shenanigans ensue

Jason Todd's terrible, horrible, no-good very bad week by slenderboo, 18k, T, completed. this is another one im sure everyone has read but!! it's my bbg!! hurt jason with some big brother nightwing and concerned little brothers AND its a batfam meets the justice league fic? say less.

Say Uncle by megaerakles, 46k, T, complete. this is so fun and i actually laughed so hard at jason having legal custody of tim at 19 by accident. "teen dad(?)" this is basically tim's fake uncle AU but he hires jason to be his uncle until he can figure out how to get him to go home to the bats <3

Doc Harley by starknjarvis, 15k, G, completed. this!! i love harley being friends with the bats sooo much and her slowly therapy-ing them all is so very good and perfect. harley and dick deserve to be best friends

Dangerous and Noble Things by Destiny919, 45k, T, completed. this one reminds me of hand in unloveable hand by britishparty, and in this one tim is abducted by ra's and then years later the batfam finds out and they bring him home :) cass and tim are a package deal, do not separate!! so good and i love robin jason so very much

Savior(s) of the broken by epistemology, 13k, T. this is just some good ol' jason and dick becoming brothers again and jason slowly getting to know his siblings again <3 the end maybe made me cry just a little... right in the brother feels

Living Dead Boy by terranpheum, 22k, T, completed. im actually rereading this right now! this is where tim is there when jason digs his way out of his grave and takes him home to rehabilitate him by making him play scrabble and eat with him :) so cute and very good

Even if I'm Erased by Darkness, I Will Definitely Save You by Kirazalea, 7k, T. okay so i LOVE battison fics especially ones that include dick and this one is from selina's pov so this is my bread and butter. if anyone has more battison fics send them to me i feel like ive been through the whole tag.....

of crime lords and literature by adelfie, 23k, T, completed. everyone loves some jason begrudgingly becoming protective of tim and the two of them bonding over hamlet. whats not to like :p

Juneberries by michaberry, 68k, M, completed. tim gets kidnapped and psychologically tortured while damian wrestles with his own demons and tries to bring his brother home :’) tim and damian learning how to be brothers and realizing they would do anything for their family is just <33

Robin is Magic by flames_dance, 15k, T, completed. the way my heart actually dropped to my ass when jason found out who tim was, you had to be there... very good jason and tim bonding with a side of trauma from titans tower <3

Around Red Hood's Barn by Tori1116, 24k, T, completed. jayroy where roy doesn't realize his crush red hood and his hooligan neighbor jay are one and the same and keeps ranting to his buddy hood about how annoying his neighbor is. single dad roy x jason wanting his brothers to leave him alone and stop causing misunderstandings <3

the butlers neighbor by deargalileo, 16k, G, completed. okay i almost never see fics from alfreds pov and this is even better because its alfred adopting tim into the family while bruce and jason are just in the background accepting they have another kid. 10/10 very cute bonding between alfred and tim

lashed with riot-red and black by lux_et_astra, 16k, T. yet another tim and jason becoming brothers fic <3 they start writing notes through their windows and become friends :) i think i’ve read every fic under the tim drake joins the batfam early tag

Panic Room by envysparkler, 15k, T, completed. jason being locked in a room with his trigger while actively trying not to kill him and then getting locked in a room with TWO of his triggers is insane lmao. i love damian in this actually :’) that boy needs so much love

also i realized again that these are mostly tim & jason centric so i’m very sorry damian, dick, duke, cass, babs, and steph, i do have fics for them i promise i just have so many tim and jason ones…. pls send recs for other batfam member focused fics!! <3 i feel like that tiktok that’s like I GOT LOVE FOR YOU TOO KEVIN but for the entire batfam because i just have 900 jason and tim centric fics 😭

#hey guys it’s me again </3 #i just have a lot of fics and i want to talk about them constantly :’) #batfam fic rec #fic rec #batman fanfiction #batman fanfiction recommendation #batfam #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson #bruce wayne #damian wayne #cassandra cain #duke thomas #stephanie brown #batman #dc

[scorpioriesling]

Dance For Me, Baby HC

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Rhysand / Eris / Azriel / Lucien / Cassian / Tamlin x reader

Warnings: IMPLIED SUGGESTIVENESS, READ WITH CAUTION

Summary: Each male is in a different situation with a famous female with you as the OC, and you're in a performance-based setting. The perfomance is based on the song/dance listed with each character (:

SR’s Note: I hope you guys like this lol idk where or why I thought this one up

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Rhysand's Performance - Vigilante Shit (Taylor Swift)

"Draw the cat eye sharp enough to kill a man."

"WHOOO, YES!" Rhysand unashamedly shouts through the quieted arena, all eyes turning to face him and gush

All your fans knew of your relationship, and to put it simply... the two of you were absolute goals

He was the best boyfriend, coming to every show he could, always being so supportive of you, and offering his love in every way -- when you were on (and off) the stage

You can't help but chuckle into the mic while trying to remain serious during your song as Rhys bobs his head along to your sensual song, swaying back and forth with your movements

"And she looks so pretty..." you lilt, and he claps loudly from the front row where he watches

"YES SHE DOES!" he shouts. You roll your eyes playfully, many fans in the pit "aww"ing at the interaction and watching the two of you

You try and remember to focus your attention to the whole crowd as you perform your routine on the chair -- it's hard when your handsome man is literally right there, catching your eye

Ugh, let's face it -- that chair should be him, shouldn't it?

Nonetheless, it propels you to dance harder, and keep going; you know his pride in you, and the reward you'll get later for working so hard

Sneaking a glance just one more time at Rhys, he's gazing at you lustfully, a smirk on his lips as he watches your arms and body roll in tandem with the music, the beads on your tiny dress swaying with each movement of your hips

The moment the song ends and the stagelights dim, you feel his delicate touch in your mind, voice delicate, unlike his promise of what is to come post-show

"I'll be the one getting revenge later, darling."

･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Eris' Performance - Greedy (Tate Mcrae)

"Alright! Let's uh... let's run Greedy one more time before we call it? Yeah?" Your manager's voice echoes through the open arena, bouncing off the open walls. You nod, and glance to the left corner of the arena when outside light floods in

One of your bodyguards is ushering in someone, and it only takes you a moment to figure out who it is. You hold up a "1" finger, and your manager sighs, nodding from the sound booth near the ceiling as you hop off the stage and jog toward your bodyguard and the approaching guest

"Hey!" You say, excitedly throwing your arms around your boyfriend's neck. He smiles brightly, pulling you into a hug and spinning you around by your waist

"Hey baby," he mumbles into your hair, setting you onto the ground gently. He pulls back to gaze into your eyes, and you smile breathlessly up at him, sweat sticking on your forehead

"I'm sorry I got here a little early to pick you up, " he glances around. "Maybe I can watch the end of your rehearsal?" He asks cautiously. You roll your eyes playfully and push his shoulder lightly

"I'm mainly practicing my moves today," you say. He glances to the top of your head and smirks

"I can tell," You gasp and swat his chest, causing him to laugh. You cross your arms over your chest

"Well... I've been at it all day. I can't promise it'll be all that good," you say. He only shrugs

"Show me what you've got."

You raise your brow at the challenge, sauntering back to the stage and climbing back upon it

"HIT IT!" You shout, and your manager begins the track to your song "greedy". On instinct, you begin singing along. Your voice is drowned out by the loud music, but you don't mind; Eris has heard you sing a million times

You accentuate each move to the fullest, performing this time as though your life depends on it. He has approached the edge of the stage, lightly crossing his arms over his chest, and staring you down like he's ready to eat you whole

You continue to dance, whipping your hair and moving your ass in a circle the way you were choreographed to do, but as full as you are physically able. Eris watches intently, smirking and shaking his head at you

As the song draws to a close, you stand, panting and bracing your hands on your hips

"Alright! I'll call it for today." Your manager says over the speakers. "Really good run, Y/N. Maybe your boyfriend should come to all our rehearsals," she says with a chuckle. You can't help but huff a laugh, dropping to your knees and sliding off the stage. Eris meets you, brows high on his forehead as he leans close to whisper in your ear

"Don't ever tell me you don't dance good again."

･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Azriel's Performance - Don't Start Now (Dua Lipa)

Azriel was more than excited to be your +1 to an awards show you'd been invited to perform at

This wasn't your first performance, as you'd toured before, done shows, all that... but you'd only been with Azriel for a couple of years, and you hadn't toured in that time, meaning he'd never seen you perform live

"You have a lot of fans," he said, wrapping his hand around your waist tighter as a million cameras flashed around the two of you on the carpet outside the venue

"Trust me dear -- they find you much more interesting," you say. You love to see the small tinge of pink that shades his cheeks, only you being the one to make him blush

After a few short interviews, autographs, and more photos -- Azriel walks you toward the stage door and presses a sweet kiss to your cheek

"You will do amazing, my love." He says

He's the only one to make you blush, too

"I'll find you after," You promise. He gives you one last small smile, and leaves you go get prepared for your performance

You don't meet his stare again until you're taking the stage for your hit single, "Don't Start Now"

The way his eyes roam over you in your pink two piece outfit make you feel as though you're one of the trophies being handed out tonight, and you begin singing, walking in time to your song with your dancers

When you get to the dance break, you're directly in front of Azriel in the front row, his eyes wide as he takes you in fully moving like a goddess in front of his very eyes

Kicking your feet in your cute boots, swaying your hips in your high cut sparkly pink bottoms, and rolling on the stage floor has the crowd cheering in awe -- and has your boyfriend speechless

By the end of the performance, your chest heaves breathlessly as you smile and look around, Azriel standing to clap above his head for you

You wink and saunter off the stage, changing quickly to not waste any more time not by his side. When you arrive at his side again, he pulls you close, hugging you fully

"You're... really, really good at dancing..." he says sheepishly, grinning so wide that all of his perfect teeth show

You giggle at him, kissing his reddened cheek. You love when he gets all giddy and speechless for you

･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Lucien's Performance - ... Baby One More Time (Britney Spears)

It was well into your tour when Lucien was finally able to come see you

You were so excited for him to finally be able to see you perform

He loved your girlypop songs, and he thought you were so cute in your little outfits you'd shown him

But, this was the first time he would get to finally see you live

He was in a private suite, and you could see him from everywhere on the stage

You were a little nervous pre-show, as you'd heard murmurs of rain showers in the area and the arena wasn't enclosed

Nonetheless -- you were going to perform your little heart out. It was just in youe nature to do so anyway, besides the fact that your boyfriend was finally there to see you

As tough as it was, you couldn't see Lucien pre-show. You really, really wanted to -- but between warm-ups, rehearsal, and hair and makeup, you did not want to distract yourself and Lucien agreed to see you first thing afterwards

Just knowing he was there, he was in the arena was enough for you to buzz with a different kind of energy that excited you more than ever before

When assembling your outfits in order, you yanked the typical pink one off the rack. Your outfits director gave you an incredulous look, and you only smirked at her. "I think I'm ready to try out that other one you recommended a few weeks ago"

She only chucked at you, replacing it with the skimpier option for the "Baby One More Time" number. "Maybe your boyfriend should attend all your shows", she said with a wiggle of her eyebrows

As the show started, you were able to spot him immediately. With his flaming red locks and overly joyful cheers, you couldn't help but perform harder than you had before

Each outfit change had him giving you a smile and a thumbs up like a dork, but once you were nearing the end of the show, you knew the last number was what would do him in

The stage descended into darkness, and you were hurriedly changed into your final outfit. You took a steadying breath in and scurried to one end of the ascention plane, your dancers surrouding you as the opening notes of "Baby One More Time" began

The lights arose, and the crowd erupted in cheers. The stagelights bathed every crystal on your glittering Swarovski bralette in radiant essence, and you tipped the edge of your fuzzy cowgirl hat once as you began strutting down the walkway, swaying your hips in your low-rise jeans. As if on cue, thunder cracked overhead and rain begain drizzling in from above, cascading over your esposed torso. You sang along to the beat, rolling your hips and flipping your soaking locks over your shoulder. The plane you stood on rose from the stage, and your abs flexed slightly as you fought for balance on the unstable surface

Your eyes met with Lucien's -- his jaw hung, and his mouth in a dramatic "O". You couldn't help but smile through your performance, playing up the movements as the song neared its ending

The crowd roared when you finished, and you thanked everyone for coming, waving to them all and blowing a kiss to your boyfriend. He met your eyes, and pointed to the door backstage, mouthing "You. Me. Back there. You know it." With a little wink

I'll leave you to just imagine the rest (;

･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Cassian's Performance - Espresso (Sabrina Carpenter)

Performing at a festival for the first time? A dream

Performing at a festival for the first time while your boyfriend was there watching you? A dream come true

Cassian was your biggest supporter in everything, especially your music career -- so when you were set to headline at one of Velaris' biggest music festivals, he was all over it

He even wore an "I <3 Y/N" shirt, but that is besides the point

You'd spent all morning getting ready with your team, the warm summer sun only encouraging you to get in the mood to perform your new song for the summer to the awaiting fans outside the doors of your backstage prep room

"Y/N! On in five!" The stage manager called. You smiled to yourself one last time, savoring these last few moments before you'd allow anyone outside your recording team and your boyfriend to hear your new hit single

When you finally took the stage, you walked back and forth, allowing the cool breeze to ruffle your long hair and cool your nerves burning through your skin. This was new for you, performing at this festival, and you worked the crowd for a little crowd interaction as you gazed to the right section where Cassian promised he'd be

The sight of his wings behind him left you smiling as he waved both hands over his head, and you send him a small wave in return. You also couldn't help but giggle at the corny tee he donned, dispite the taunts he'd recieved from Rhys and Azriel about it as the intro to "Espresso" began

As if on instinct, you began moving in time with your dancers to the song, keeping your movements small and controlled to conserve energy while singing your heart out. Nonetheless, you were performing - and the crowd was loving it, swaying and cheering along, but none of them as enthusiastic as your boyfriend

When you'd reached the end of your performance, you gave the edge of your fluffy white skirt one final toss and winked to Cassian before waving to the crowd. They erupted in applause, and Cassian cluthched his heart, pretending to faint before smiling widely at you. You giggled once more, skipping happily down the steps of the stage to the sectioned off area of the crowd to watch as the next performer geared up to take the platform. Cassian embraced you with his arms wide, lifting you high and rubbing your small back with his large hands

"Ha Ha!! Yesss that's my girl!" He praised. "You did amazing, sweetheart," he said, setting you back down and twirling you in a circle, admiring you from head to toe

"Why thank you, love bug." You say, standing on your absolute tippy-toes to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. He holds you in place with his hands wrapped around your waist, his voice a raspy whisper agaist the shell of your ear

"I'll drink your Espresso any day."

･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Tamlin's Performance - Obsessed (Olivia Rodrigo)

Tamlin had been to your shows a few times, as he was your best friend... well, you were his best friend

Sure, he was yours too, but... you'd always wanted more with him. How he didn't see that? You weren't sure

You always listened to his problems, been there for him when he needed you, and he was always there for you too

This show was an example of that. You were performing an unreleased song, one that would be a huge suprise for your whole fanbase, and as this was something you'd never done before, naturally, you were nervous

Of course you confided in your best friend about it, and he was perfect about it; he made you feel better, gave you all the courage you needed...

"What is the song about?" he'd asked you

"Well... there's this guy..." His brows had raised

"Oh?" He'd asked, suprised

"It's not about the guy, just... about his ex girlfriend, ectually. Haha," you'd explained. He only noded.

"Well that's... different. I didn't know you liked anyone." You immediately tensed, wanting to change the subject.

"It's also making me nervous, I hope people will like my aesthetic change too. I'm going with red this time... not... purple, like usual." You stammered. He nodded looking at the floor.

"What kind of red?" He asked. You looked around, eyes landing on the very thing that you two shared the most in common.

"Like, the color of the wooden panes of your fiddle."

It was after that he told you he actually wouldn't be able to come to this show. Which sucks, because you really, really wanted him to come. Little did he know, he was the guy. You liked him. He was going to come all along, why all the sudden the cold feet?

You sighed to yourself as you exited the stage, changing into the very outfit you'd hoped to be debuting for Tamlin today. As if on cue, your assistant rushes up to you with a bouquet of 12 perfect red roses, a small card in hand. She was out of breath, as were you as your atage attendants pulled fabric over your shoulders and brushed through your hair.

"This... these... he said it had to be now," she breathed. You quickly took the card from her, eyes scanning over the words.

You know I wouldn't miss this for the world. And quite frankly, I think you look beautiful in red.

You recognised the handwriting immediately, and your heart felt like it might explode out of your chest. Your assistant took the card back from you, promising to put the flowers in your dressing room as your brand new, shiny red guitar was thrust into your arms and the stage section you stood on was being lifted once more

You met the lights, the screams, the cheering -- and you looked. You searched the sides, the back, all around. You wouldn't find him, it was no use

You didn't care. He was here. He was here to see you. And he thought you were beautiful

The intro of "Obsessed" begins, and you shakily start the motions you'd practiced over and over. Dragging a sensual hand down your chest, the crowd roars and you're filled with confidence, moving to strum a few chords on your guitar. Its not long before you retire it for a microphone instead, heading toward the corner of the stage for the part of the song where you sing laying on the stage floor

It's then, when you're belting the lyrics, back arched, the you look to the side and meet those familiar emerald eyes, staring at you in shock. His strong arms are flexed over his chest, satisfaction and awe gleaming in his stare. You only smirk and continue, thrusting your hips and writing on the ground with the lyrics

As you continue your show, the crowd goes absolutely wild, and you're a panting mess by the end of it -- a panting, satisfied, excited mess

When you round the corner to your dressing room, you find him there, leaned against your vanity, hands braced against the edge of it as his lustful eyes meet yours. His roses are sat nest to him on the table, and you can't help but grin as you slowly saunter into the room, quietly closing the door behind you. He is the one to break the silence first, licking his lips as he drinks you in with his stare

"So... it seems there is something we needed to discuss, Y/N."

･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

#a court of silver flames #acotar #acotar smut #lucien acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #lucien x reader #acofas #a court of frost and starlight #lucien vanserra #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris x oc #lucien #azriel smut #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #rhys acotar #tamlin acotar #acowar #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #high lord rhysand #rhysand #rhys x reader #cassian smut #cassian

[gleefullypolin]

The Sex Rule by GleefullyPolin

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For as long as Penelope Featherington could remember she had lived across from Colin Bridgerton. She had been born 4 days and 16 hours after her childhood friend Eloise Bridgerton and resided on Royal Crescent Lane where she had spent her entire childhood life quietly pining after her older Bridgerton brother.  After graduating college, she moved into an apartment directly across the hall from Colin who helped her get an internship at Danbury Tells All magazine where he also worked, as a writer on his own travel column.

As long as she could remember, it had always been Pen and Colin, Colin and Pen, best friends, who were destined to be tied together for life.

~*~

Pen was digging through the cabinet when she heard the front door swing open. She didn’t even stop searching for her skillet before yelling out. “Seriously, do you even knock anymore?”

“What would be the point in that.” Colin scoffed, kicking the door shut behind him. “Do you have any sugar?”

She stood up quickly, “what on earth do you need sugar for?” She couldn’t imagine Colin baking after the last time he set the kitchen on fire trying to bake a cake for Samantha Stewart. It wasn’t that he couldn’t cook, it was that he got distracted so easily that he most often forgot to pay attention.

“I’m baking, obviously.”

She put her hands on her hips and raised her brow. “Colin Bridgerton? That is your name, right? The same Colin Bridgerton who needed to sleep on my couch for a month the last time he baked.”

“Very funny!” He pushed past her and dug through the cabinet, pulling the sugar down to pour the granules into a container.

“What’s her name this time?” She blew a stray tendril of red hair out of her face.

“Berry? Cherri? Shit, I forgot which one I invited over tonight.” He shrugged, “No matter, she wants cookies.”

“You can’t be serious. Names are important you twat.”

“It’s something to do with fruit, maybe.” He scrunched his brow. “Apple?”

“The fruit or her name?”

“Her name”, he said with a smirk. He turned and walked back to the door, carrying his prize in his hands, a successful smile on his face.

“Don’t forget the picnic tomorrow.” Pen yelled before turning back to her search for her skillet.

He stopped. “Shit! Which item are you taking?”

Pen laughed, of course he forgot. “Potatoes. I figured I’d make that dish your mom likes.”

“And…. what was I….” He said slowly.

She grinned. “You have no idea what they told you to bring, do you?”

“Of course, I know…” He said with a boyish grin.

“And I’m sure you already have it in your fridge, ready to go.”

“Well, no. How many years have we been doing this, Pen? We both knew I was going to forget, and we both know that whatever it is that I’m supposed to be bringing is already prepared and currently packed away in your fridge. I’m just the driver.” And with that he walked out the door, slamming it shut.

“I hate you, Colin Bridgerton!” She yelled toward the closed door.

She could hear him sing back, “You love me, Penelope Featherington!”

And dammit, she did. That was her life curse. Loving Colin Bridgerton with no chance of him ever returning the sentiment.

~*~

Pen took a deep breath and opened the door. She summoned her courage, stepping into the hallway, placing the can on the ground, and wedging it in the door frame as she quickly carried the trash bag to the end of the hallway, dropping it down the chute. She wiped her hands on her pants and headed back to her apartment, pausing as she passed Colin’s door. She could hear music on the other side and voices. She didn’t know why she was torturing herself. She leaned against the door, her ear taking in the sounds on the other side. She could hear Colin’s voice, low, and dark.

Then an annoying squeal and a moan. Oh God.

She backed up quickly, tripping and kicking the can away that was propping open her door, the sound of it slamming shut behind her resonating in her ears.

Fuck.

Why did she never carry her damn keys with her?

She thought about sitting outside her door for the next…how long would it take for them to finish whatever they were doing on the other side of the door? 30 minutes? An hour? Fuck she really didn’t want to think about how long Colin could last on the other side of that door with whatever he was doing to whoever this girl with the fruit name was.

“Oh, my Colin.”

Ok, maybe she could wait 20 minutes.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Ok she’d give them another 5 minutes! Her jaw clenched at the thought.

“Oh God! Yes Colin, right there!”

UGH! NO! That was quite enough of that! She stood and knocked loudly on the door! She could hear shuffling on the other side.

“Just ignore it, I’m sure they will go away.” She heard Colin mumble. For God’s sake why was he like this?

She grabbed her phone and quickly found the contact CB in her phone.

Locked out! Be a dear and remove yourself from whatever body part is causing her to screech like that before I rip my ear drums out!

Her ringtone rang out through the apartment. You’ve got a friend in me. You’ve got a friend in me. The Toy Story theme flooded her ears and Pen couldn’t help but laugh.

She heard a thud on the other side. “One sec, be right back.”

“Colin, where are you going?”

The door opened and Pen swallowed hard at the sight of Colin standing in the doorway, his hard naked chest staring her in the face, a sheet draped around his lower torso, just low enough that it wouldn’t take much imagination for her to…. Fuck!

“How many times have I told you not to prop that door open?”

She had to will her eyes to meet his. Stop ogling your best friend, Pen! She reminded herself. “Can you just open the door so you can get back to…”

He smirked and she wanted to punch him anywhere that would wipe it off his face. He crossed the hall and clicked his key into the knob, turning it to open the door. Of course he couldn’t just get out of her damn way, he had to stand there looking like a damn Greek God, his arm blocking her path into her apartment.

“Thanks.” She grimaced. “Sorry for uh…” She ducked under his arm to try and escape this conversation.

“That’s what I’m here for Pen, always your hero.” They were so close in that moment that she almost forgot she was keeping him from nocturnal activities with another woman.

“Colin…”

Almost…

“Oh sorry….” Pen spoke quickly and then admonished herself for looking like a cat who just ate a canary. It’s not like she had any reason for feeling like they were doing anything wrong. She was just standing in the hallway with her half naked best friend, gawking at him.

“Hey um…” He stared at the woman standing in his doorway draped in his bedsheets.

Jesus Christ, he still doesn’t know her name, she realized. She rolled her eyes. “Sorry about that.” She interrupted. “I got locked out and well Colin has the…”

“Spare…” he held up the key in his hand and the woman narrowed her eyes in his direction.

“Oh!” The look of confusion on her face was apparent. “That’s odd. Are you his…”

“Sister!”  Pen said quickly, as Colin stared down at her in confusion.

“Sister’s friend.” He quickly clarified and Pen gave him a glance that clearly told him that he was an idiot not to take the save she so gracefully gave him.

“Well, nice to meet you, Colin’s sisters’ friend.” she said icily, turning back into the apartment and shutting the door behind her.

“Well, uh, thanks for the save, hero, I’ll let you get back to it.” Pen turned quickly, pushing Colin out of her doorway, and slamming it shut behind her, ignoring how firm his backside was underneath the sheet as she shoved.

~*~

“Lady Crane was right about you?”

“Lady Crane? What did she say?”

“That you cared about me, that you would never forsake me. I’m beginning to believe that now.”

Pen hugged the frilly yellow pillow in her lap, a ridiculous reminder of home as she watched her favorite show that she and Eloise would always watch together when they would visit each other or when she was feeling particularly lonely like she was tonight. She wiped the tear from the corner of her eye as the door to her apartment swung open causing her to jump slightly and the light from the hallway to suddenly flood her dark living room.

“Are you watching your porn show again?”

“Colin, Jesus I swear are you ever going to knock?” she asked in aggravation.

He threw himself down on the couch beside her, plopping his feet up on the coffee table. Pen was almost annoyed that he was now freshly showered, his scent of fresh lavender and oak almost permeating the room. His hair was still wet, and he was in a pair of dark sweats and her favorite mint green Olive You hoodie she had bought him for Christmas last year. She cursed that he looked so damn good in everything.

“Why are you here, bothering me? Surely you have exhausted yourself and should be sleeping until noon tomorrow.”

He stared intently at the screen, ignoring her comment. “What do you see in this show? If you wanted to watch a show about sex, just watch porn.”

She jammed her finger on the pause button and glared at him. “Are you just here to annoy me? Because if not, what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Colin?”

He shrugged. “Just bored…”

“Bored…” She interrupted. “Where is your piece of fruit?” She groaned in frustration.

He shrugged. “She got a headache and went home after you locked yourself out of your apartment.”

“Too bad.” She lied.

“Were you crying?” he asked, suddenly staring at her intently.

“What? No? I mean…it’s this bloody show.” She pointed at the screen. “She’s in love with him and he’s too stupid to realize it. I’m just emotional.”

He laughed and she kicked at him. He grabbed her foot and held it in his grasp. “How do you know he doesn’t know? Look at the way he’s looking at her.”

She looked up at the screen, the way it was paused with the male character staring at the red-haired girl next to him. “Well, he hasn’t realized it yet. He still thinks of her like a sister. Because men are stupid.” She pouted.

“Ah, the old men are stupid trope. You sound like El now.” He paused. “Trust me, he’s thinking about it. All men think about it.”

She snorted. “That’s most definitely not true.”

“Yes, it is. It’s a guarantee that at some point every man will look at a woman and think about having sex with her at least once. It’s the sex rule”

“Bullshit. I know that’s not true.” Pen rolled her eyes.

“Want to put money on it?” She glared at him, but he only returned her stare with that devil-may-care grin that told her she would lose that bet.

“So you’ve thought about..sex…” her words came out slowly, deliberately as she carefully considered them.

He nodded.

“With…” She continued.

“Come now Pen…you’re almost there.”

“No.” She returned quickly.

“Yes.” He said drawing out the word.

“You have not.” she said defiantly.

“I have.” His tone was matter of fact. She could feel the blush creeping up her neck. “Ok come on there has to have been at least once in your life that you have thought about having sex with me?”

“Never.” She lied, but the speed at which she did so gave her away.

“Pen.” He was smirking at her again and it was driving her insane.

“Colin…” she said with a glare.

“Not once?” He pouted.

“I’m not answering that question.” She pursed her lips together tightly.

“Then that means you have.” He shrugged in victory.

“It does not.”

“Come on, it’s completely normal. All men and women think about it at least once.” The way he was speaking about this, so normally was driving her insane. How could he talk about this like this was not earth shattering?

“They do not.”

“Yes, they do. Pen, I know you aren’t new to sex, stop acting like you’re 12.”

Pen crossed her arms in front of her, almost like she was protecting herself somehow. “So, you really mean to tell me that you have thought about having sex with me?”

“Yes.” He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Colin!” She couldn’t stop the grin from spreading on her face even though she was absolutely flabbergasted that he was admitting this like it was no big deal and that made the heat building in her start to burn her cheeks.

“Pen!” her name drew from his lips thick and hot, and she felt herself swallow hard. “I think we know each other’s names at this point. Be honest. You’ve at least thought about it once.”

She was not doing this. She was not doing this. She was absolutely NOT doing this. Her smile betrayed her.

“I knew it.” He had the audacity to pump his fist in the air.

Dammit!

“Ok you tell me, I’ll tell you.”

“What?” Pen’s mouth dropped.

“If I tell you when I thought about it, then you have to tell me when you did?” His grin of utter triumph had her heart thumping in her head. How could he look so calm right now?

“Absolutely not.”

“Why? Are we not friends?” He smirked, his bottom lip jutting out slightly before his tongue swept out to wet his mouth.

“This is stupid! Friends don’t talk about this.”

“What are you afraid of, Penelope?” And the way her name hung in the air, the way it fell out of his mouth, mixed with the sweet tang of lemonade on a hot summer day.

“I’m not afraid of anything, Colin Bridgerton…”

He smirked for what felt like the millionth time that night and damn him, this is how he always beat her. Him and that gorgeous smile, the way he always knew the combination to unlocking her fears, the way he was able to put her off guard to get her to share anything with him because he was Colin, and she was Pen.

“Fine, when did you think about it?” She asked with a sigh, resigned to the fact that they were doing this.

“Junior prom.”

“You are certifiable! I would have been in Junior high school.” She scrunched her nose and made a vomiting motion.

“Not my junior prom, your junior prom.” He said with nothing but sincerity on his face.

Pen swallowed hard. Fuck. Not that night.

“I still remember you and El sitting out back by the pool. You were a crying mess when Dingleber…I mean Debling didn’t show up to escort you.”

She laughed, trying not to remember how hurt she felt that night, how much she had been destroyed when the most popular guy in school had invited her to prom only to embarrass her in front of the entire school simply to show up with Cressida Cowper instead. A ruse just to remind her that she wasn’t worth dating, someone that nobody ever noticed, a joke. “I remember El and Phillip wanted to drive over to his house and beat the shit out of him.”

“I would have done so myself, but Anthony took my keys. He said something about jail not being one of the places he wanted to be that night.”

She rolled her eyes but was comforted remembering how much the Bridgerton boys had treated her like a sister growing up, protecting her.  “Then your mom forced you to take me instead.” She laughed.

“No, she didn’t.” he said, sitting up, taking both of her feet into his lap.

“Yes, she did. El told me.”

“No Pen, I assure you, she didn’t, I offered. I just told El mom forced me to.” He shook his head and laughed. “What college kid volunteers to take 2 stupid high school kids to prom.” He reached up and ran his hands through his hair, something she had seen him do countless times before when he was nervous.  

“But El was so pissed because your mom forced you to chaperone us.”

“El was only pissed until I supplied you all with beer after.” He quickly retorted.

“Which she rewarded you with by decorating the leather seats of your car with afterwards.” It was the one thing both Colin and Pen still held over Eloise’s head to get her to do things for them since their mother was still none the wiser of the events from that evening.

“You know it took me a month to get the smell out.” He paused and then looked down at his fingers, running small circles against the skin on her ankles. “I still remember that dress you wore though.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Emerald green, cut down the front to show off your…um…assets, that slit you kept trying to cover up all night that made it really hard to keep my eyes on the road or anything else for that matter.”

“Excuse me?” Pen couldn’t stop the nervous giggle that escaped.

“I’m pretty sure that little heart shaped kiss mark on your inner thigh was burned into my memory for all eternity after that night.”

“Oh my God.” She exclaimed. Pen’s hand immediately brushed over the area, her cheeks starting to heat up. Was the room suddenly on fire?

“I seem to remember that night very differently than you.” She responded, finally recovering from her shock.

“How so?” His head tilted and the light from the television illuminated his expression and Pen was taken back with how invested he appeared to be in her answer.

“You spent most of the evening on the phone if I recall. Distracted by your girlfriend.” She frowned and tried to immediately mask it with a fake smile. It’s not as if she had any right to have been jealous anyway.

He made a sound between a laugh and a scoff. “Ah yes, Marina.”

“So maybe your memory is confused about who you were thinking about having sex with that night.” She hated discussing Marina. Hated discussing any of Colin’s ex-girlfriends or whatever they may be with him. In fact, she was starting to hate this entire conversation. They needed to end it and go to bed before her heart shattered any more tonight.

He shook his head with a smirk, staring directly into her eyes in that way that Colin was always able to do that made everything in her weak. “I’m pretty clear about those memories, Pen.”

Her voice faltered for a moment before she gathered herself in defiance of everything her body was feeling. “That was 8 years ago you moron, you don’t even remember what you ate for breakfast this morning.”

He leaned forward, his hand grazing hers as it sat on the back of the couch and Pen felt every single molecule in her body freeze. “I can assure you Pen, you never forget that first time. It was… enlightening, surprising…orgasmic, shall I say.” He drew out every word and her eyes were glued to the way his mouth even uttered the word orgasmic! She had to pull herself out of whatever trance she was in before this got out of control. Because this was insane.

And then she lost herself. She did what Pen always did when she got uncomfortable. She let out a loud giggle. “You are unhinged Colin. Ridiculous. You want me to believe that you went home and…”

He simply shook his head, a slow grin forming devilishly on his face.

“No!” she argued defiantly.

“Yes!” He smirked.

“NO!” she responded almost shouting.

“I did.” He sat back on the couch, satisfied, proud of himself almost.

“I hate you.” She pouted.

“Won’t change that it happened.” He paused, letting his story hang in the air for what felt like an eternity before he spoke again. “And that was my tale. Now tell me yours.”

She scoffed. Hell no! “Oh, I think we’ve had just about enough tales tonight.” There was no way this was getting any further than they had already gotten. She was not about to tell him how many times she had thought about Colin taking her right there on the very couch they were currently curled up on.  

“No, no, no, we said we’d both tell. You don’t get to back out now.” He gripped her ankles tightly, not letting her remove herself from the couch.

Pen tried to look anywhere but at Colin, staring at the characters on the screen instead. UGH. Why was this happening tonight. Fuck. Be brave. What’s the worst that can happen? He can just make fun of you and then tomorrow he’ll bake a cake for someone with a name that rhymes with a vegetable.

“Junior Prom.” she said softly. She glanced at him and was annoyed immediately at the small smile that started to grow into the most annoying smirk she had ever seen on his face. “Oh, shut up.” She kicked her foot at him, but he held it firmly in his grasp, his hands lightly massaging her toes with his fingers. Damn him.

“I told you, it’s completely normal Pen. I was your best friend’s very handsome older brother.”

“Wow! I always though Ben was the handsome one.” she teased.

“I mean at least tell me I was good.” His voice got low, and she cursed the sudden change in tone, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end again.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly real now, was it?” She laughed uncomfortably, unable to get control of her emotions all of a sudden. Were they really discussing this? Could they please stop? His hands moved to her ankle and a shiver hit her. “Come on, at least tell me you didn’t imagine me a shit lay, Pen. I got dumped because of that fuck.”

“I’m sorry what?” She snorted.

“Nothing…” he said quickly.

“What do you mean you got dumped because of it?” she asked seriously, thinking back to when Colin and Marina broke up. It was long after prom. Wasn’t it?

He sighed, his fingers still moving slowly against her skin, but working their way up to her calf. “Marina dumped me over that whole prom thing.”

“What? Why?” That wasn’t right, she clearly remembered him telling them that they broke up months after prom.

“Why do women do anything.” He scoffed. “We had a date that night. I broke that date. It wasn’t a big deal. I waited to tell everyone because, well, Marina and I had other problems besides that. So…” He shrugged.

“You never told me that. You should have gone. You didn’t have to take us.”

“Yes, I did.” He said suddenly, and way more seriously than she was prepared for. “You were looking forward to that dance for weeks. I remember you and El talking about it like it was a fucking meeting with the Queen for God’s sake. I think you took 4 hours getting ready only for that fucker to just not show up…to fucking leave you like that…to embarrass you in front of the whole school…”

Pen was taken aback with his emotion, so sudden, so serious.

“I wasn’t going to let him make you feel like that. Like you weren’t worth that kind of attention. Like you didn’t deserve to feel beautiful that night.”

The air in the room felt stifled.

“Colin…”

“Anyway, Marina didn’t get it. It didn’t matter. All that mattered that night was you, Pen.” His voice was soft, quiet, and sincere. Pen felt her entire heart explode. The hand on her calf had slowed, fingers drawing circles against her skin that were setting her skin on fire.

“Colin…” She tried to speak again. But staring at his hand, her voice cracking, no other words were coming out.

“So, um yeah…” he looked up at the television screen. “That bloke knows, he just doesn’t know what to do about it. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to do something about it.”

“Then El is right, men are stupid.” She exclaimed. “Why is it that men are able to fuck around with every other woman except for the one they actually want? Why is it that when they want a woman, they have no idea what to do with them?”

He groaned or sighed; Pen wasn’t sure which. “It’s not that easy, Pen and you know it.”

“Is it not?” she asked indignantly.

“You tell me?” He almost pleaded and it thew Pen off her axis. “You tell me how easy this is? How many times?”

“What?” She looked at him in confusion.

“How many times have you thought about it? Once, twice?” his face contorted in what seemed like pain.

“Thought about what?”

“Sex with me?”

“Col…”

“Every night…” He announced suddenly. “I think about it every night, Pen. So tell me how easy it is to just drop all this pretense and tell your best friend that you are in love with her and spend every fucking night imagining what it would be like to taste her, touch her, breathe in every inch of her skin beneath my body, but you can’t have her, so instead you just wander around aimlessly, fucking lost, knowing that she can never be yours.”

Pen was certain that every single sound in the room had suddenly turned off until the silence in the room was deafening. Colin was in love with her?

She couldn’t breathe, this wasn’t happening, there was no way this was happening right now.

“Do you really have nothing to say?”

Reality came crashing back as her eyes met his, something looming behind the blue ocean swirling in his pupils…almost pleading for her to respond.

“I…You’re in love with me?” She heard herself say without even recognizing her own voice.

“Is that so hard for you to believe?” He seemed to be pleading with her and she felt her heart clench.

She sat up quickly, pulling her legs away from him as she stood from the couch, pacing across the room, her heart starting to race. “Yes, it is. You’ve never said anything. You always have a girlfriend. How the hell would I ever think you thought anything about me besides being your friend?”

“Would you stop pacing!” He was watching her from his spot on the couch.

“No, you know I need to pace when I’m stressed. And you’ve stressed me out.”

“So…” He paused, staring down at his hands, his jaw clenched. “Me telling you that I love you is stressful?”

“Yes…No…I don’t know.” She declared as she turned back and forth on the carpet.

“Ok. That’s not exactly helpful Pen.”

“I don’t know Colin. I don’t understand. This doesn’t make sense. You had a girl in your room not three fucking hours ago.” She yelled.

He groaned and ran his hands through his hair, and she berated herself for finding that sexy as hell for the third time this evening.

Focus Penelope!

“I didn’t think this was an option. I don’t know, it’s what I do. I distract myself.” He said with a wolfish grin that should not have been sexy and she should not have wanted to wipe it off his face with a kiss. She was angry with him right now!

“By being an asshat?” She yelled instead.

“I don’t know Ok! Mom says it’s a coping mechanism. She said the more I ignore my feelings for you the more I continue to fall into bad behavior.”

“Oh my God, you talked to your mom about this? Who else did you talk to about this?” She was staring at him wide eyed, in shock that he had told his mother about his feelings for her.

“No one…I mean maybe Ben…and Ant…I might have mentioned it to Daph once and maybe...” he dropped his face into his hands and groaned.

“Oh my God, is there anyone you haven’t talked to about this? Besides me and Eloise?”

He looked up and bit his lip.

Pen’s mouth fell agape. “You told Eloise?” She yelled.

“Pen…” He tilted his head and stood from his spot.

“Why didn’t you just talk to me?” she said softly.

“Because you are the most important person in my life and the only person I can’t afford to lose.” He replied sincerely and she felt the room start to spin.

“Well maybe, you fucking asshat, if you had come to talk to me, you would have found out that I have been in love with you since the day you walked out of your room in your boxer shorts and shared your chocolate waffles with me when I was 8 years old.” Tears were starting to well in the corners of her eyes. “And while you are the most important person in my life and there isn’t a day I don’t want you in it, there isn’t a single night that I don’t go to bed having to listen to you in your apartment and thinking about how badly I want to be the reason you are making that maddening moan that makes me go weak in the knees and wet between the legs.” His eyes were dark as he stood rooted to his space in front of the couch. “Living next to you and not being able to have you has been the most excruciating hell I’ve ever lived in.”

“Pen…I didn’t…I…had no…” His pained expression changed in an instant, desire growing the moment their eyes met. He crossed the room in one step, erasing the space between them. Time stood still the moment his lips touched hers, a surge of electricity sparking between them setting her skin aflame at his very touch. His hand was in her hair, his fingertips massaging the space behind her ear and damn if it wasn’t the most glorious feeling in the world.

A moan escaped her lips, unrecognizable even to her, as his mouth grazed a wet trail across her jaw which was met by a low growl that made her skin crawl in devilish ways that had her begging for more.

“Colin…” his name fell from her lips so naturally like it had so many times before but tonight it felt different, as if saying it was the only way to bring her the release she had been needing for years. She felt his breathe against her ear, a heat that made her senses rise.

“I want you; I’ve always wanted you like this.” She was afraid the earth was going to swallow her whole at that very moment, to end her existence before she could truly understand the meaning of hearing the words that had come out of his mouth. She had waited her entire life to know what it meant to be truly wanted by the man holding her in his arms.

“Then take me.” she whispered, her knees nearly buckled beneath her as his tongue slid hot against her neck, his mouth sucking against her skin, teeth skimming her flesh. She knew that would leave a mark in the morning; she didn’t care. She wanted it. She wanted him to mark her. To make her his. Truly, she was always his. He only needed to claim her.

His hands slid under her T-shirt, his palms pressing against her belly as their bodies tumbled toward the ground.

“Books.” She grunted, trying not to knock over the pile of books sitting on the floor that she had towering in stacks for research on her latest article. “Watch the…” He laughed, his head dropping to her breast, the laugh made her body vibrate but the sound made her heart skip, a familiar song reminding her of the man she loved so dear. He looked up at her with a grin on his face. “Sorry, I just have them in order.”

“Do you ever just let go?” He slid a finger into his mouth, letting it glide against his bottom lip. His smile turned up as he slid his hand back under her t-shirt, his moistened fingertip now circling her pert nipple.

Her back arched against his warm hand as she gave into his ministrations. “Fuck it.” She sang, kicking the stack of books over and pressing herself fully into Colin’s hard body. She was done being in control. She felt his smile hot against her neck and she didn’t care if she seemed eager, she was. She had wanted this for so long. So many years of wanting, needing, aching for Colin Bridgerton.

He dragged the shirt over her head, pausing once the fabric was above her. “God you’re beautiful.” She ached to pull her arms over her naked chest, to shield her body from view.

“Don’t do that.” His voice was soft. “Don’t hide from me.” She had never felt so exposed. She never undressed in front of men, always changing in the dark and sliding under blankets in the cover of dark.

“Colin.” She tried to avert her eyes from his honest gaze.

“You’re perfect. You always have been.” He ran his finger lightly against her flesh, taking his time as he slid between the valley of her breast. She shivered and he chuckled low and deep, but his exploration continued as he traveled to the waistband of her pajama pants.

She watched as he bit his lip. It was much the same way he would look at his favorite sweet treat at Sunday morning brunch at their family picnics. He was giddy with excitement. She would watch him and pool with desire simply seeing him take the first bite of the delectable dessert and it made her quiver now with anticipation knowing he wanted to devour her just as badly.

Just the thought of his mouth on her was making her feel feral and she wasn’t sure she could take it much longer with him staring at her. “Please Colin...” She whined.

“Please what?” He demanded.

“I...” Her hips arched into him, pushing his hand closer to where she needed him to be. “I...need...”

“Use your words, love.” His hand pressed against her waist, his fingers sliding under her pants, fingertips brushing against the curly hairs on her mound. “Please what, Pen?” He whispered.

“Touch me.” She came off the floor the moment his fingers found their mark, sliding between her folds, slick and wet. “God, yes.”

“So perfect.” he said softly. His finger slid in slowly and his mouth found hers, their tongues colliding in perfect harmony. She tore her t-shirt away from her body, and greedily moved her hands under his hoodie, feeling his warm skin under her palms, exploring every inch of his chest. When he slipped another finger inside of her, the desire to feel him closer increased. She needed so much more than even she understood in that moment.

She had imagined sex with Colin Bridgerton before, in many different places and ways, dirty, needy, fulfilling. But she had always thought that if it happened, if she would ever have been lucky enough to have him, that she would take her time. She imagined that she would explore him until she had nothing left to uncover.

But in this moment, exposed and bare in the middle of her living room floor, books strewn around them, she wanted nothing more than to feel the full breadth of him filling her until the ache of needing him, the screaming of desire in her brain was silenced.

She didn’t know where her courage came from, God knows she had never found it before, nor had she had it with other men, but in that fleeting thought of her mind, she latched onto it. Pushing him away from her and rolling him onto his back, she took control. “Pen...”

“Not now, I want you.” She smiled down at him as she watched him eagerly tugging his sweatpants down his body. She gulped at the sight of him, erect and full. “Just like that.”

“I see you found your words.” He grinned as she straddled him, sinking her thighs onto either side of his hips, her wet center grinding against his cock and relishing as the smirk fell away from his face and his eyes rolled back with a hiss escaping his mouth. “Fuck.” She leaned over, pressing her hands into his chest and meeting his lips with hers as she slid the length of him. She reached between them, grasping him in hand and slipping him between her legs.

Pushing her other hand against his chest, she lifted herself and sunk down onto his throbbing member, allowing him to fill her completely. “My God!” Her head fell back as his hands came up to grip her breasts, twisting her taut nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

This was everything she had ever imagined and so much more. What was laid out before her was literal porn in the flesh. Colin’s eyes were locked on hers, attentive and passionately taking in her every move. His right hand trailed down her torso, sliding between their bodies as they rocked in motion. His thumb pressed into her tender bundle of nerves making her cry out, grinding her hips hard against him.

“Please Pen...” He begged and she wanted to give him that release, wanted to be the reason for his bliss, wanted to give him every desire he ever needed. She kept his eyes on her, bringing her hand to join his between them, gliding together as she felt herself start to tense. The ecstasy building as he thrust up into her.

“Col...” His name left her lips like a prayer, a sacred promise she would always keep as she felt her release take over and everything she had locked up inside her, all the years she had been holding on to this secret she had withheld from him finally shattered as she screamed his name into the silence of her apartment.

His hands were now on her hips as he bucked up into her with a grunt, a whisper of her name before he relaxed back onto the floor, pulling her down onto his chest as they tumbled together in a tangle of limbs and partially discarded clothing. He pushed a moist strand of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear, kissing her on the forehead. “God, I love you. That was way better than I imagined.”

She giggled. He pulled back and looked at her. “Hey, I hope that’s a happy laugh and not a ‘gee you were still a shit lay in reality’ laugh.”

She bit her lip and smiled. “Hmm...” His eyes got wide. “I suppose you were ok.”

“Ok?” He scoffed.

She kissed him quickly. “Better than porn.” She whispered against his lips.

“I love you, Pen. Truly.”

“I love you too.” And in that moment, she knew that it was true. It was always going to be Pen and Colin, Colin and Pen, best friends, who were destined to be tied together for life.

#polin #colin bridgerton #penelope x colin #colin x penelope #penelope featherington #stacy's fics

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 11!!

Okay so I had Life being Life, then a bit of Writer's Block (sort of), then a bit of a hangover, BUT I GOT IT DONE. So here we go.

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

When you wake up the next morning, you once again find Anathema sitting at the large dining table surrounded by her books and tools. This time, though, Aziraphale and Crowley are with her. Aziraphale has his tiny glasses on and is flipping through a book, a cup of tea next to him, no doubt cold. Crowley is on his phone, and you can hear the sound effects of Candy Crush from here. He has a mug in front of him too, but it’s steaming and smells of coffee.

“Good morning,” Anathema says to you.

“Morning!” You respond, heading into the kitchen. Here, you can see that someone has bought a box of bagels, and you help yourself to one and make a coffee before returning to the dining room and having a seat across from Anathema.

“So,” You say, taking a bite out of your bagel (dear Reader, I personally am imagining just eating it like a donut because I can), “How are the readings coming?”

“Well,” Anathema starts, “I got some vague vibrations yesterday and I have a theory.”

“Oh?”

“The vibrations were very faint, mind you, but I think they were coming from the southwest. So I’m going to try going to that edge of the city today and try again. With any luck I’ll have a better idea of where we’re traveling to by tomorrow.”

“Awesome!” You reply

“Thanks! Aziraphale is going to go with me.”

“And I am not,” Crowley says definitively. You smirk behind your coffee mug.

“Still sulking over yesterday, are we?” You ask him, trying your best to imitate his eyebrow.

“No. It just sounds boring.”

“Well we could hang out today,” You suggest brightly. Crowley makes a noise that is non-committal and mono-syllabic. “I’ll take that as a yes!”

“That sounds like a splendid idea,” Aziraphale offers in place of Crowley, “Perhaps you can find us a car to rent. I have a feeling that we will be leaving the city soon, and we won’t want to be walking will we?” He chuckles to himself, and you nod in agreement.

“Perfect,” You say with a smile as you finish off your breakfast.

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

“So!” You start casually as the pair of you wander down the street, “What mischief are we going to get up to? Are we gluing coins to the sidewalk? Are we going to find someplace busy and just walk REALLY slowly? Take up both sides of the escalator? Oh! We could ride the bus and request every stop without ever getting off!”

Crowley stops walking and looks at you. His eyebrow has practically merged with his hairline.

“Is that what you lot think I do?”

“Well, uh...basically yes,” You reply uncertainly. Just as you’re starting to wonder if you should be re-evaluating everything you know about how Crowley operates, he smirks with a satisfied hum.

“Good. Glad to know my finer talents are appreciated somewhere.”

Oh he has no idea. You decide not to inflate his ego too far. Yet.

“So what do you want to do?”

Crowley produces a bag of frozen peas from nowhere. A light bulb goes off in your brain.

“Oh! Ducks!”

“Ducks.”

And so you head for Central Park.

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

Finding the ducks doesn’t take too long. Neither does emptying the bag of frozen peas. In the end, you both find a bench and have a seat. It feels strangely like you’re filling in for Aziraphale.

“So what happened yesterday with Anathema?” You ask after a while.

“I have no idea what you mean,” he replies, shifting around on the bench. Alright, enough of this. You turn to stare at him.

“What do I mean, okay. I mean that you spent two days running around like an unsupervised kid, spend one afternoon with Anathema, and suddenly when I literally give you permission to be a mischievous shit, all you want to do is feed the ducks.”

It almost looks like he’s chewing on something. Words maybe, you figure. Maybe he feels that if he chews them enough, they’ll come out easier. He must realize it doesn’t work like that because after a few seconds he answers your question.

“She may have mentioned that my having too much fun might bring the Metatron back around. Back to Aziraphale. Especially since he didn’t seem to have much trouble finding you in Heathrow. He probably knows where we are.”

Oh. That’s actually a fair point. You take a minute and think about it.

“Yeah, he probably does, but I don’t think he’s going to try anything just yet. I mean, his tactics are straight out of the Fairytale Villain Playbook. So he’s probably going to hold back for a bit to see if I start to crack and then go back to him.”

“Book Girl still has a point, though. Don’t wanna bring him out before we have to.”

“Okay,” You pause for a minute, considering the obvious compromise that Crowley doesn’t seem to have touched on yet. But then again, sometimes you just need someone to give you permission – even if it’s something you already know. “So how about we don’t have too much fun, but we have just a little bit of fun. Like we go souvenir shopping and buy a t shirt with small change. Keep stuff in moderation, yeah?”

“Hm,” Crowley leans back farther if that’s even possible, considering your proposition. “I do somewhat fancy one of those I Heart NY shirts.”

“Same actually. Did you create those by any chance? Just curious.”

His smile is toothy and smug. Instead of answering, he lifts himself off the bench.

“Come on then, Reader,” he says, “Let’s buy some souvenirs.”

“Reader?” You answer, getting up and following him.

“Well what else am I gonna call you? You keep talking about how much you read and I already have Book Girl. Need to keep all you straight somehow don’t I?”

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

Not very long afterwards, you find yourself wandering around the city again, this time sporting I Heart NY merch and cheap star-shaped sunglasses. Crowley has swapped out his normal shades for a pair of shutter shades. A couple of times now you’ve had to grab his arm to keep him from walking into poles. And once, he nearly sauntered his way down a flight of stairs that he was certain had come out of nowhere. He still hasn’t switched back to his normal sunglasses.

“Okay what about Monopoly?” You ask him.

“Nope. That was an American who made that I think. No idea who it even was.”

“Mario Kart?”

Crowley snorts. “No.”

“What about fake pockets?”

“If anyone asks, yes. But otherwise, actually, no.”

“What about...multi-level marketing schemes?”

“I…what? No. But I definitely told Hell that I did.”

“Okay well then what did you actually invent?”

Crowley stops and looks at you through those ridiculous shutter shades. He smirks like the Cheshire Cat as he answers.

“As little as physically possible.”

“So you did basically nothing, and just took credit for everything?”

“YuP.” He pops the plosive at the end with a self-satisfied head-waggle.

“Brilliant.”

“Thank you. It’s nice to talk to someone who gets it.”

“It really is, isn’t it?” You turn and give him a hug. Sometimes, you just need to hug your demon.

“Ngk. What’s this?” He’s clearly uncomfortable, so you let go. He doesn’t say anything else about the hug, but he buys you an ice cream.

And he pays with pennies.

----------

The hotel room is quiet when you both return. After a quick search, you find that Aziraphale and Anathema aren’t back yet. That’s not...a great sign. But you’re determined not to panic.

“I’ll order some room service. You want anything?”

“Nah, I’ll wait.”

So he’s worried too. Alright. You place your order and turn on the tv. You try to care about the Big Bang Theory reruns, but you can’t relax just yet. Both of you sit in quiet tension until the door finally opens to Anathema and Aziraphale. Their moods are joyful, and you feel the dark cloud just lift away.

“Hey guys,” You say, “I just ordered some room service. I wasn’t sure when you two were coming back.”

“Oh!” Aziraphale practically sings, “I’ll get the menus. I’m certain they won’t mind adding on to the order.” He leaves the room. Anathema’s face is bright.

“I found out where we need to go. Did you find us a car?”

Oh. Whoops.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

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#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens 2 #good omens fandom #aziraphale x crowley #aziracrow lasts forever #fanatic intervention #part 11 #poll fic #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #ineffable fandom #ineffable poll fic #ineffable fanfiction #let's write #self insert #we're all in this together #writers on tumblr #writeblr #cast your vote

[visceravalentines]

sugar stuck in your teeth

They're grimy and tired and Benson's neck is sore. Randy gives him a shoulder rub and thinks hard about the allure of being a biological organism.

2.5k words. canon divergence, boys on the run. established relationship. implied sexual content, nothing explicit. sweat and oil and general nasty. sharing of a toothbrush. so fluffy i'm spinning it up and putting it on a stick and selling it at a carnival. read on ao3 here if that's more your speed.

They spend a full day on the road. Seven hours across Texas through scrub and sand. Nothing to see. No end in sight. Randy falls asleep in the dead-eyed sun of mid-afternoon and wakes up in the dark, dry air whipping through the car from Benson's window rolled all the way down. 

"Hey." Randy sits up, disoriented, mouth gummy and tasting of bygone Mountain Dew, bladder fit to burst. "Why didn't you wake me up? You've been driving for hours."

"Didn't want to stop." Benson's voice is rough. Randy can read the exhaustion in his posture, the way he grips the wheel with both hands. "Besides, you looked like you could use it."

Randy shifts in his seat. He hasn't slept well all week. "Well…it's my turn now. Let me take over."

"Nah." Benson rolls his neck slowly. "Town's up here in like ten minutes. Figure we stop for the night."

Randy peers through the bug-splattered windshield and sees lights in the near distance. "You wanna find a motel?"

"I'd fucking love a motel. Gimme that lukewarm shower and a box spring mattress. Fucking luxury."

As it turns out, they get none of that. The only place in town has a sign that says Closed and no lights on in the lobby. Doors all locked, despite Benson's best efforts to rattle them open. 

He doesn't say a word, doesn't even curse, just slumps defeated back to the car with Randy in tow. "You want the backseat or the front?"

"Benson, I slept for hours, I can–"

"There's not another town for forty miles and if I spend one more second on that fucking highway I'm gonna peel the skin off my face."

Randy doesn't argue. "I'll take the front."

"You sure?" Benson tosses a weary look at him over his shoulder. He squeezes the back of his neck and winces. 

Randy nods. "Yeah, I'm sure." 

The front sucks. You either have to fold your legs to fit around the steering wheel, or risk nailing the thing with your arm or your head. One time he hit the horn with his knee and scared them both so bad they ended up packing up and driving through the night because neither one could fall back asleep. 

He's had plenty of rest. Benson should get the back. 

They leave the car parked in the rear lot of the motel and pick their way through the scrub in the dark to take a piss, elbow-to-elbow. Randy barely feels self-conscious anymore. At the start he used to walk ten paces away and make Benson turn around. But that seems silly now. Benson's seen and touched every inch of him. This is nothing.

Benson zips up and takes off down the sidewalk with a haphazard sense of purpose. Randy has to jog a little to catch up. Benson holds out his arm and he ducks beneath it, the weight comfortable across his shoulders. By now Randy feels like he belongs there, pinned against his side. 

He reeks. They both do. It's been three, almost four days since they last had a shower, been making do with baby wipes and clean underwear since they left Tennessee. Randy almost can't stand it. Back home, he showered every day, sometimes twice a day if work was rough. Right now, he could scrape the grime off himself with a fingernail. 

He's adjusting to this level of awareness of his own body, like he's just now cognizant of the way his skin fits. It makes him sort of anxious. But he's coping. He doesn't really have a choice. 

And it's funny–Randy doesn't mind Benson's stench at all. He's uncomfortable with his own stink, but he actually thinks Benson smells kind of…good, maybe. In a gross kind of way. It's such a foreign concept that he keeps inhaling a little too deep at this distance just to prove it to himself. 

"What're you doing later?" Benson asks, oblivious. 

Randy clears his throat. "Um…not much." 

"Oh. Huh." Benson squints down the road towards the distant light of a gas station, the only thing in town that looks alive besides the two of them. "Well, how about I take you to dinner?" 

A smile steals its way onto Randy's lips. He hooks his pinkie into Benson's pocket. "That might be nice." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

Benson takes a deep, thoughtful breath. "There's this place…Seven-Eleven?" He casts a dramatic sidelong glance in Randy's direction. "You heard of it?" 

"Yeah, I…I think so." 

"It's just fantastic. The beer list? Unbelievable. And the atmosphere, well…there's really nothing like it." He's talking with his hands, throwing them off balance. Randy stumbles happily along with him. 

"I don't know, um…I've heard they don't have Pringles. Like, the big can. Just the little ones." 

Benson scoffs. "Well, now, don't you worry your pretty little head about that. You can get two of the little ones if you want. It's on me." 

"Wow." 

"I know." 

"That's–that's really generous." 

"Well, you're gonna have to put out." 

Randy coughs out a laugh, looks at his shoes to hide the heat in his face. "Sounds, um…sounds fair." 

"Randy, come on." Benson laughs, gives his shoulder a shake. "You're giving it up for two cans of Pringles? You gotta know your worth, man." 

He'd give it up for less, but that's beside the point. "Maybe toss in some peach rings and we have a deal." 

Benson gives him a squeeze. "Fuck yeah, alright. Now we're talkin'." 

They pick their way through the snack aisles of the gas station, select a few staples they aren't sick of yet. Benson salutes the clerk behind the counter like he's an American hero. They make their way back down the road to the motel in silence save for the crunching of chips and cellophane. 

It's a beautiful night, still warm from the sun, everything orange beneath the sodium streetlights. Not a soul in sight save for them. This town looks like every other one and Randy likes that, likes that it's starting to feel like coming home when they stop for the night in a new place with a single stoplight. 

They lean against the trunk of the Chrysler and pass the Big Gulp back and forth. It's too late for caffeine so they got root beer, extra ice, because Benson likes to fish it out and chew on it. There's too many streetlights to really see the stars, but that doesn't stop Randy from trying. He sucks the sour off a peach ring and feels a little bit nauseous and a lot filthy and an overall, bone-deep sense of contentment. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Benson twist his head, trying to roll out his neck again. It's not the sharp jerk of his familiar tic, not quite, but it makes Randy nervous. He's been doing it all night. He wonders if it was something he said, something he did. He still doesn't know what exactly he's trying to shrug off every time, but he knows enough to tread that ground lightly.

"You okay?" he asks, tries to make it casual. He swallows the peach ring whole and has to fight it all the way down his esophagus. 

"Yeah." Benson nods, winces slightly. "Yeah. Just sore." He grips the back of his neck and stretches, lips hitched in a grimace. 

Randy can imagine. Slumped in a car days on end, cracking the damn thing all the time. He sets the Big Gulp on the trunk, thinks, hesitates. Commits. 

"Would you, um…would you want me to rub it out for you?" 

Benson looks at him warily as he considers the offer. He's slow to answer, but Randy is patient. Doesn't push it. Lets him think about it. 

Finally he nods. "Sure. Why not." 

Randy clambers up on the trunk and sits behind him. Benson leans back between his legs, rests his elbows on Randy's knees, hangs his head forward. The space between them is awkward all of the sudden. Too close, not close enough. Too many clothes on. Too much skin exposed. 

Randy is nervous and he's not sure why. He thinks fleetingly of their first time, his first time, and the way Benson's hands hovered an inch over his skin and shook a little bit. This isn't that, but it feels kind of the same. "You can…tell me to stop if you want. Whatever you want. It's okay." 

"How about you start and then we'll see." 

Randy brushes the curls at the base of Benson's neck hesitantly with his thumb before he wraps his hand around the muscle of his shoulder, gives an experimental squeeze. "Right…there?" 

"Higher." 

He moves his hand up and tries again. "There?" 

Benson hisses through his teeth, cringes. "Yeah. Fuck." 

Randy sets his hands on either side of his neck and squeezes gently. 

"Yeah. Right there."

Benson's all tension beneath the skin, stiff and warm under his cold fingers. Randy thinks about the color of his muscles, the white of bone underneath them. He's pretty sure he's never touched anyone like this before, not even Benson, not like this. Not friendly or sexual, just…intimate. 

"If you want me to stop, just–just say so, okay?" 

Benson grunts an affirmative. His skin is oily and his muscles are taut as bowstrings, so riddled with knots it feels like buckshot lodged in his flesh. Randy presses his thumbs in deep and pushes up along his spine, again and again, feels a flush of satisfaction as Benson melts back against the car. 

"Fuck," he moans. 

"Hurts?" 

"Yeah. Don't stop." 

Randy's nothing if not good at taking orders. He falls into a rhythm, slow and steady, works over his neck and shoulders and back again. Benson swears up a storm and lets out a low whimper whenever he hits a sore spot. 

"Sorry," Randy murmurs every time. 

Benson never replies, but that's okay. He doesn't tell him to stop either.

At first his hands are balled into fists against Randy's knees, but after a while they go slack. He relaxes, finally, allows Randy and the car to support his weight. It's a selfish thought, but Randy hopes he's the first person to do this for him, or at least the first in a long, long time. Benson doesn't have a lot of firsts left. He wants this one. 

Before long, his hands are cramping and he worries he's going to rub his neck raw but doesn't want to stop touching him, doesn't want to forfeit this new familiarity with his body. So he eases up, cheats a little bit, combs his fingers through his greasy hair and scratches at his scalp. It makes his chest feel tight, the way Benson leans into his touch with his eyes closed and groans under his breath. 

When he finally pulls away, Randy tries to subdue his disappointment, until he turns around and reaches up to hook a hand behind Randy's head. 

"C'mere," Benson mumbles, tugging him close and meeting him halfway for a kiss that tastes like peach rings and root beer. Randy grips his forearm and for a second, in his mind's eye, everything drops out and disappears into the void, save for them and the car and the stars. 

When he breaks the kiss Benson doesn't let him go, holds him in place with their foreheads pressed together. Neither of them speak. Randy focuses so hard on Benson's breathing he forgets to breathe himself. There are words, but they creep by in silence like animals in the dark. 

"We still got water in the back?" Benson says at last. 

"Mmhm." 

"I'm gonna brush my teeth. Change into my jammies." His jammies are a pair of basketball shorts made of more holes than fabric. 

"Okay," Randy says. 

Neither one of them moves. The crickets chat amongst themselves in the brush. 

"You still want the front?" Benson asks. 

"Sure." 

"Thanks." 

"No problem." 

Benson sighs softly through his nose. He lets go of him and steps back, shuffles from one foot to the other and stares at Randy for a long time, hair sticking up in all directions. Finally he goes to dig through the backseat for the water jug. 

"Looks like a bunch of fuckin' raccoons live in here," he mutters. 

Randy chuckles, looks at his hands palm-up on his lap. He's got Benson's skin beneath his nails, his sweat and oil worked into the whorls of his fingerprints. He's never been so close to another person. Spent his whole life maintaining a safe distance from everyone around him, treating his body like a blast zone. Now the idea of distance is laughable. They share everything but toothbrushes. Hell, he's been inside him. Randy always figured he would never reach that level of connection with anybody. 

He brings his hand to his face and hesitates for just a second before he sticks his thumb in his mouth. The salt of Benson's sweat is familiar on his tongue. He tastes his skin on his skin. He knows him. He knows him. And Benson knows him right back. 

He's craved this sort of intimacy his whole life. Laid awake alone countless nights and ached for it, mourned bitterly for what he never had and assumed he never would. But now he lies awake with Benson beside him and basks in how wrong he was. In how real he feels in his arms, wearing a second skin of grit and spit and whatever else. 

He doesn't want to sleep in the front. 

Randy twists to call over his shoulder. "Hey…um, Benson?" 

"Yeah?" he says around his toothbrush. 

"You think we could…both fit in the back?" 

Benson spits on the asphalt. "No." 

"Well…could we try?" 

Benson snorts. "Fuckin' clingy, huh?" he says, but he sounds amused. Randy feels those dark eyes appraising him like a pair of hands fumbling at his clothes. He tugs absentmindedly at the collar of his shirt. Well, Benson's shirt. "Yeah. We can try." 

Randy hops off the trunk and joins him in the evening routine, bumping shoulders, bumping elbows, their voices small and close in the night. 

"Gonna sweat to death together back there," Benson says. 

"That's okay." 

"If you say so. Think I might skip the jammies. That cool?" 

"That's–that's fine, yeah. That's good. Hey…is that my toothbrush?" 

"No, yours is green."

"That is green." 

"No it's not." 

"Yes it is, the light makes it look weird." 

Benson looks at the thing again. "Oh. Whoops. Does it really matter?"

Randy gives this serious consideration, thinks about his mouth and everywhere it's been. Thinks about the state of the rest of him. Thinks about pressing his body to Benson's in the backseat, sticky with sweat, breath on his neck. 

He wants to say yes, it matters, but he doesn't feel it. He tastes salt on his tongue instead.

"I guess not," he shrugs.

Benson hands it to him. 

"Your turn, then." 

#i really do be dunking my barbies in mud and then playing house w them #and then posting at such odd hours #oh well. try and stop me. you can't #stockroom syndrome #the passenger #the passenger 2023 #the passenger fanfiction #ranson #randy bradley #benson the passenger #the passenger 2023 fanfiction

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 5/7/2024

i have Got to read a book i enjoy this week or my brain will turn into something the consistency of dried tomato paste on a kitchen counter

also i have lost track of the timing and rhythm of the seasons so for the first time in a very long time there is no may starred war tuesdaypost

listening

Chapstick by COIN off my weekly recommended spotify playlist. i don’t think this song is particularly interesting or well-executed as a whole, but the lyrics

She’s a friend of mine, and an alibi

And the getaway car in overdrive, like

Hey sharpshooter, I like the way you’re moving

i think the use case for this song is a telecom company trying to get you to switch by promising some portable Bluetooth speakers for your summer parties and this is playing diagetically as we slip in and out of various summer parties, following one TV-hot woman in a sundress

-

reading

i am once again not sleeping well and have shoved a lot of mediocre books into my gaping maw. i have read a good fuckin chuck of the jason todd outlaws runs. i like jason todd/the red hood bc i feel a certain kinship with someone trained for an incredibly specific thing who are then thrown away the second they stop conforming. darth maul also but that’s a different post.

i have several bones to pick with writer scott lobdell. i know this was the early teens but can we chill with the misogyny for a singular page. why themes of addiction only when it is needed to fill a narrative lull? and why are you continually going to put jason in interesting situations where he might confront his trauma or grow despite his trauma and then. not have him confront his trauma or grow at all because of it??? i like snatches of the early issues of the run, when the outlaws are figuring out how to be a polycule team on the most beautiful deserted island and crashed spaceship you’ve ever seen. i liked the art in most issues and these had just enough fun flashes of character (about every other issue) to keep me reading. but im annoyed by it.

i finally finished Wilkie Collins’ The Moonstone, the first physical paper book i have finished in a long time. the flaw of being the first in the english detective fiction genre is that everyone who comes after has a lot of time to perfect it. i felt the actual perpetrator was a little beyond belief and the ending was fumbled. however it was very good at sustaining my interest for like 400 pages. not my picture bc i cannot be bothered to find my copy and bother a cat, but this is the penguin edition i own. i don’t actually know if i will keep it on my shelves but maybe it’s more of a trophy of me getting back into reading physical books?

Alexis Hall’s Mortal Follies also annoyed me. i do not think this author’s strong suit is in longer books. i have read previous books in two hours and change and while i found the ending here satisfying from a fairytale perspective, i did not enjoy the path we took to get there. i thought we were ending and wrapping things up at least three times, and the number of Things that happen in order to carry us on to the next Thing does not feel gleefully madcap but sort of frantically shambling. a very classic three-days time limit is introduced in the middle, it is met, and then we continue on for several months. also the author introduces the concept of shipping your friends with an equally made-up word as shipping through one of the more tiresome characters in the novel and this…cracking? chip? in the fourth wall? fucking annoyed me. it felt very out of tone with the rest of the book. surely there was a better way for this character to express that she wanted the two leads to be together

-

watching

Hammerhead (1968, dir. Miller). this is leaving tubi soon and sometimes the heart needs a silly little James Bond ripoff. had high hopes for this one bc it was rated R and the baddie was obsessed with collecting vintage erotica. i don’t really know why this is rated R. the erotica we see is almost all prints of Fine Art Nudes. there’s a lot of cleavage and undergarments and bikinis but not like. full frontal at any point. no man has their chest out except for an enterprising motorcyclist near the end.

anyway this is a deeply unserious film, as you may surmise. it’s not much fun, especially when it’s not very good at getting everyone to the next scene. Vince Edwards is kind of a cold fish, i do not know why every woman is throwing herself at him. Judy Geeson makes every scene she’s in better (there’s a very funny scene in a post office where they play both keepaway and the thimble game with an important package) but she cannot hold the whole dragging movie up by herself. god they made leading ladies fucking tiny back then. very throwable

-

playing

not fallow but i don’t have anything interesting to say about genshin this week. a friend started playing fnv after several months of subtle hints, i was only able to join his streams after twenty hours in and promptly let him know the inventory is sortable if you click at the top. how had he been going through his whole fucking inventory for twenty hours like that. a man singularly obsessed with both inventory management and min-maxing caps. he had like 8k caps by the time he got to Novac, taking the normal route. people sure can play games in different ways huh

-

making

put some dijon mustard and some broccoli in some macaroni and cheese. that's about it

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem #an important thing to ask yourself as a grownup responsible for your own care and keeping is: am i having fun? and the answer is no the fuc #i am not!

[picklebunbun]

જ⁀➴₊⊹ 🎀 dazai x male! reader

๋࣭ ⭑

velvet ring

big thief ♥︎

⇄ ◁◁ I I ▷▷ ↻

⁰⁰ ²⁵ ━━●━━━━━━━━ ⁰² ⁰⁸

๋࣭ ⭑

⟢ male! reader, can be read as trans or cis, masculine pronouns

⟢ genre: angst, like MAJOR angst, happy ending though, so a bit of fluff

⟢ cw: implied homophobia, verbally fighting, crying, self deprecation, dazai isn’t good at communicating, implied su1cide and maybe OOC

⟢ fandom: BSD

⟢ romantic, dazai and [name] are engaged in this

summary: major fight happened between dazai and his fiancée, about him not outwardly expressing his feelings, [name] feels like he’s walking on eggshells around him. Dazai comforts [name] while he’s bawling his eyes out, everything is okay after that

[angel’s note👼🪽: taking a break from the usual requests because I really wanted to do bsd, sorry, also, this is based off my oc with dazai (I made them have marital problems) I wanted to do very angsty stuff too]

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒

it was the dead of night, only darkness filled the room, the loud silence of the couple only made the somber attitude worse.

there were days like this were they wouldn’t talk to each other, usually it was after a fight, but not this time. What else could they talk about though? It wasn’t unknown that Dazai could read you like an open book, his intellect was truly terrifying. As for you, it’s hard to talk with your partner when they won’t communicate with you

it often made you sad though, Dazai had no problems talking about himself to his friends, or anyone. The most frustrating part is that he makes light of it whenever you try and talk about it with him. Were things just different when you’re engaged? Maybe he was just on edge because you were both men , but Dazai didn’t seem like the type to care about those things. Maybe it was just you, you did always feel a bit insecure just by being with his fiancée, Dazai was certainly known to be a “playboy”. Being engaged should mean that he ultimately chose you right? I mean, sure, they legally can’t get married but they were basically at that stage

it just made everything so frustrating all the time, how can you expect a healthy relationship without communication?! That’s like a key component of a relationship!

“..hey, [name], are you awake..?”

“….yeah.. I can’t sleep”

“me either.. c’mere for a second”

you looked at him ,confused, until Dazai lazily wrapped his arms around you and you got the idea. The {h/c}-ette hugged him as well, it was pretty easy to tell if Dazai wanted to cuddle. It just felt weird, almost as if he was cuddling with a stranger, or at least that’s what it felt like. Dazai used to say how you had this overwhelming warmth about you, you’re not quite sure if he still thought that now, it was okay I guess, it’s not like you needed the constant praising.

it was a beautiful night though, the last quarter moon illuminated the deepest of shadows in the room, although, it could never hide the amount of darkness around you and Dazai. Even while being wrapped around eachother, you know deep down that you couldn’t feel warmth in this relationship, but little moments like this were nice.

Whenever the moon was half lit, or more specifically, the 3rd quarter moon was when Dazai most liked it , when you asked “why? Why not when it’s fully lit or fully dark?”, Dazai always said the same thing “it’s like how Wednesdays are halfway through the week, the last quarter moon gives me hope for another month, just waiting for a break so I can relax”. Sometimes his messages were so cryptic, you could never really tell if he was going to do something to seriously harm himself or he just says things cause of how meaningful he thinks they are.

Dazai went rambling on about his day at work, you listened, but there was something at the back of your mind. You figured to tell him in the morning, for now, it was time to shut your eyes, there was no point in staying awake now since you could hear the soft snoring that was Dazai’s slumber.

-𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“well, I’m off to work! Bye, my love!”

“wait, Dazai… can I ask you something?”

Dazai turned around, he knew what was about to come, whenever you two fought you set off like a firecracker, completely blinded by how you were feeling, it’s entirely justified too. Usually, Dazai would’ve thought about this in advance, but what could he really say? Expressing himself seriously was not an option, so he’d just have to deal with your red hot anger.

“hm..?”

“do.. you.. hate me?”

“w-what?! Of course not! I could never hate you, I’m engaged to you! How could you think that?”

“you just never talk to me, you talk more to your co-workers than you’re own fiancée!”

“maybe I should get married to them instead them, heh..”

he tried to make a joke, you did not like that

“are you kidding me?! You’re joking about this? Dazai! This isn’t funny! I’m tired of you not talking to me!”

“woah, okay, calm do-“

“HOW THE HELL CAN I CALM DOWN? IT’S LIKE I’M LIVING WITH SOMEONE I DON’T KNOW, YOU DON’T TELL ME ANYTHING!”

“oh, I don’t know [name]! You’re screaming in my face right now, maybe that’s why!”

“THAT’S THE ONLY WAY I CAN BE HEARD BY YOU, DON’T YOU THINK THAT’S A BIT WEIRD, I HAVE TO SCREAM AT MY FIANCÉE BECAUSE HE JUST WON’T LISTEN.”

“YOU NEVER LET ME TALK, YOU JUST TURN IT INTO A BIG ARGUMENT.”

“WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO TALK ABOUT ANYWAYS? YOU NEVER TALK TO ME, I BARELY EVEN KNOW WHAT YOUR FAVORITE DRINK IS, I HAD TO HEAR IT FROM ATSUSHI, ARE YOU KIDDING ME.”

your eyes were getting cloudier by the second, it was frustrating talking to him. Your throat felt like there was a lump of air stuck in the middle, your eyes hurt from the stinging tears that were forming. Your voice was cracking as you felt yourself about to break down

“IS THIS IS WHAT IT’S ALL ABOUT? THE FACT THAT I CAN’T COMMUNICATE?! YOU’VE BEEN GOING FOR MY THROAT FOR THAT?!”

“I-I’VE BEEN TRYING TO TELL YOU FOR MONTHS.. you never listen.”

“well, you ju- woah woah woah, [name]..?”

you broke out into violent sobs, you couldn’t keep on fighting, it was so exhausting just screaming all the time.

“hey, hey, hey, hey, calm down.. why did you suddenly start crying?”

when he asked you, you couldn’t stop weeping even more, everything was just building up and then you just let it all out. You were holding your chest while you cried, it felt like you just got a heart attack, well, at least that’s what it felt like, really, your heart was just shattered like it meant nothing to Dazai. He loved you, your sure he does, but lately it just feels like the more distant he seems, the more distant his loving embrace feels, the more colder it feels when he says “I love you”, like he’s forced to say it.

finally, your teary screams were reduced to nothing more than quiet sniffles, an occasional whimper here and there. You seemed composed enough to form a complete sentence, so Dazai asked you, in the softest tone he has

“why were you crying..?”

“…”

you looked at him, your eyes were wet and so were your cheeks, a red gradient formed around your eyes and nose from wailing so much. You looked around, not wanting to see his face, avoiding any eye contact. The room was so hushed, you could hear the pitter -patter of a bug if you wanted too. It’s no use, he probably wouldn’t leave until you told him.

“.. sometimes I feel like you don’t care about me enough to talk about your feelings, I just wish you would talk to me instead of making jokes, it makes me feel humiliated, like my feelings don’t matter, and then you get mad and argue with me when I don’t know how you feel!”

Dazai stayed silent, not knowing what to say, or even what to think.

“is that it? You’re not going to speak to me?”

silence again

“..okay, I’m just going to get some fresh air..”

the door slammed closed, Dazai was left there to soak in his own feelings. Honestly, the arguments before seemed minuscule compared to this one. He wasn’t a sensitive man, but everything felt so overwhelming, he couldn’t help but feel teardrops staining his cheeks. Dazai always took advantage of the relationship, ignoring your previous arguments, but now if he kept this up, he would lose you, and he’d have no one again.

-𖤓°⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

cricket, cricket, cricket

that’s all you hear at night. At first, Dazai would keep you up with useless conversations about philosophy, to which you lightly punch his elbow, but now it just felt so lonely. Back to back, not looking at each other, laying in bed, you could never face each other after that, you’d have to deal with it tomorrow, but right now, you’re just tired of everything

#dazai x male reader #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #bungou stray dogs x male reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou gay dogs #x male reader #x male y/n #angst #bitterness #bittersweet

[midnightsxblue]

VIRGINITY (PART ONE)

carl grimes x fem!reader

tags: mentions of sex, mentions of loss of virginity, the talk

masterlist here!

─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ───

You think about sex all the time. It sounds wrong but it’s true, you’re a teenager, it’s on your mind. You often wonder truly what it’s like. What it feels like, why people rave about it so much, why it’s such a huge part of who people are. It always confused you but you were curious. You’ve seen movies before, the classic make out between two people that would cut to them naked with the sheets covering their top half.

You wanted to know if it was like it was in the movies. That’s why, after a while of you and Carl dating, you’d come to the realization that you would soon lose your virginity. As weird as it sounds, the two of you were constantly worked up. Maybe it was the fact you loved each other so much or maybe because you lived in a world where you could die any second. You were genuinely worried to die a virgin.

Anyway, the both of you had countless make out sessions where you both pawed at each other to no end that you believed would finally end up with him inside of you. Every time you were interrupted. It was never the right time, there was just simply too much going on whenever you two tried. There was always someone in the house, God knows how much Rick hates to knock. You guys always had to watch over the baby and you couldn’t leave her unattended because her naps never lasted long.

You talked about it and you’d actually planned on trying the next time Rick and Michonne were out of the house for a while, as long as you were up for it. You’d have Olivia watch Judith, you’ll figure out some lie to tell her.

When Rick mentioned a supply run that they’d be gone for, you two gave each other a look but acted like everything is normal. Inside, you were excited to have a couple days to yourself. But then it hit you.

You’ve never had sex, how are you meant to know what you’re doing? There was nothing you could look at to give you a clue as to how everything worked. Carl didn’t have a clue either, so he went to the one guy knew to ask. You went to the one girl you knew to ask as well.

“Hey, Glenn?” Carl approaches him while he was working on a car near the gates of Alexandria. He didn’t want you to know you were asking how to have sex, he much rather you assume he knew what he was doing and let him handle it. Glenn looked up from the car and wiped his forehead of the sweat. “Hey.” He responds, looking between Carl and the car.

“I sort of need some advice…if you’re able to help.” His tone is embarrassing, he’s obviously gotten the talk but he was never told what exactly to do. “Uh yeah I have some time.” Glenn places the tool in his hand down on the floor, standing up to wipe his hands off. “What’s up?”

Carl looks at him hesitantly but knows he has to do this. “So um…I know like…what sex is but, i was wondering if you could tell me a bit more how it um..how it works?” He rambles, watching Glenn’s eyes go wide at his words. “Uhhhh….” Glenn thinks for a moment, the moment getting increasingly awkward as he stalled. “Well, use protection.” He swallows hard, trying a tone of voice to make the situation less weird. Carl makes an odd face at him, sort of cringing. “W-well do you need one- a condom? Like is that why you’re…” Glenn’s voice trails off when he realizes that Carl is actually asking so he can act on his advice.

Carl looks at him and nods, hesitating to answer. “Yeah.” He responds, his hands fiddling with the hem of his flannel. Glenn stares at him, somewhat uncomfortable. He pats his pants feeling around his pockets and he reaches into his back pocket. He pulls out a condom, a strip falling from the singular one he meant to take from his pocket. He rips one off quickly, shoving the rest back into his pants frantically. “Just take it.” He sticks it out and Carl takes it and shoves it into his own pocket. “Why do you just have these on hand?” Carl asks, sort of in a disturbed tone.

“Well I- forget it just…” He takes a step back and looks back to the car. He can’t look at Carl but he takes a breath to prepare to give better advice. He continues. “Look, just communicate with her, I think that’s the most important thing okay? You’ll know what you’re doing in the moment.”

─── ⋆⋅ ꩜ ⋅⋆ ───

“They never know where to put it so you’re gonna have to show ‘em.” Maggie tells you handing you a glass of water while you’re sat on her couch. She was very open about this which made you feel more comfortable. She settles into the couch next to you and looks at you intently. “You just gotta know that it’s what you want in the moment. You understand?” She has a light but serious tone.

“Yeah, I guess I’m just scared it’s gonna hurt or something.” You giggle awkwardly. “Well it might, if you bleed that’s normal too.” You squirm a tad at her words. “But you might not. It shouldn’t hurt after you get used to it. Just have him wait while you adjust to the feeling.” She gives you a content smile.

“Okay, I really appreciate this I wasn’t sure who else to go to…” You take a sip of your water and she nods. “If you ever need anything I’m here. Just…don’t get pregnant. That’s another thing, wait till you have condoms. And don’t forget to pee after.” She adds.

You thank Maggie and she decides to walk you out. You look for Carl and Glenn to meet up before dinner. You head towards the gates to see them talking which you find sort of ironic, you had no idea he was asking for advice like you were. He notices you and waves bye to Glenn before walking over to you, Maggie walking over to her husband. Sort of like a trade off.

“Don’t tell your dad I gave you that!” Glenn shouts. Carl gives him some sort of confirmation and returns his attention back to you.

“What’s that about?” You question.

“It’s nothing.”

─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ───

a/n: IMPORTANT NOTICE: I ADDED TO MY RULES THAT I PRIORITIZE REQUEST COMPLETION ON HOW DETAILED THE REQUEST IS SO TAKE NOTE OF THAT :)

anyway the next part will be banger. trust. ANYWAY I HOPE U GUYS LIKED ITTT :> thank u anon for requesting!!! next part comes out maybe this weekend!!! i’ve got some school stuff popping this week sooo it’ll take a little to come out, also it’s smut and i’ve never written that before SO IT MIGHT TAKE ME A LIL

tags: @zomb-1-egutzz

#carl grimes #twd #the walking dead #carl grimes twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes the walking dead #carl grimes angst #the walking dead carl #twd carl #carl grimes smut

[kabie-whump]

CYOA Whump Part 21

First | Previous

You chose: Ask him to run away with me if the chance arrives.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

You look up into Onthyes's eyes. You know all too well what it's like to feel trapped, and he's clearly been there too. You realize that you don't just want to escape anymore. You want to take him with you.

"Maybe... If we get the chance, we could get out of here. Together."

He blinks down at you, taken aback. "That's really what you want? I kinda figured you just want to get away from me."

You shrug. "I did. Now I do not. You are too charming for your own good, Onthyes."

He laughs. His face is still so flushed you start to worry he could be feverish.

Then he leans in. His lips get so close to yours.

And you pull away. You can't afford the distraction right now.

He sits up straight, clearing his throat and looking away from you pointedly. "I'd um... I'd like that. If we get the chance, let's go off on our own."

"Yes," you agree, brushing off your clothes as you stand. "It's rather late. We should turn in."

Things get quiet over the next few days. You consider going to Erxik and telling him about Rye's plan multiple times, but something always stops you. You can't shake the feeling that the mutiny might be a good thing for you, that the chaos of it might give you a chance to escape this ship if you play your cards right.

It happens late at night. You and Onthyes wake up to the sound of yelling from above. You're muzzled, as you always are at night to reduce the risk of you using any spells while Onthyes sleeps.

Onthyes is on high alert instantly, sitting up in bed. "Something's happening."

It takes a moment for your groggy brain to catch up, but you quickly realize that the mutiny must have arrived. If you stay down here you'll surely miss out on the chaos. You need to get involved if you want any chance to benefit from it.

You get out of bed, trying to pull Onthyes towards the door by your shared chain. He doesn't even shift. "What are you doing? It's probably dangerous out there."

You glare at him, grumbling something through your muzzle. Frustrated, you reach up and try to rip it off your face, but it stays firmly clasped over your mouth.

Onthyes gestures you over with a sigh. You go to him and sink to your knees in front of him, lowering your head so he can unlock it and take it off. He uses his shirt to dry off the drool that had soaked the rubber mouthpiece before placing the muzzle on the bedside table.

"We should go up there," you say firmly.

"That's a bad idea."

You suppress a hiss but don't manage to stop yourself from baring your teeth at him.

"The mutiny's happening," you say through gritted teeth. "We should go up there. Unless you want Rye to be in charge from now on?"

"That... would be bad."

"Yes, exactly. Let's go."

With a sigh, he goes above deck with you.

It's a clear night, moonlight shining down on the scene as Rye faces off one-on-one with Erxik, each with swords drawn. The pair is surrounded by Rye's buddies. Tinny is on the ground, a cut on her forehead dripping blood into her eyes as someone binds her wrists together so she can't interfere.

"Alright, old man," Rye sneers. "If a duel is how you wanna die, I'll gladly put my steel through your guts."

You and Onthyes stay back from the group, watching as Rye and Erxik cross swords. The others stay back, honor-bound to let the duel play out. Literal fire dances behind Erxik's eyes as he and Rye's swords clash, the sound echoing across the deck.

They're both fierce fighters, and the duel takes them all over the ship. Although he is much older, Erxik fights with a level of control and precision that clearly frustrates Rye, who relies on brute strength and primal ferocity.

The key to your shackles glints on a chain around Erxik's neck.

In the end, it's Rye who has Erxik backed against the railing of the ship, his sword pointed at the captain's throat. Erxik's sword splashes into the dark sea below.

"He can't win," Onthyes whispers. "We can't let him."

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

CYOA whump taglist: (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@scp-1296 @sapphicccici @acer-gaysimpstuff @morning-star-whump @rainydaywhump

@whumperofworlds @hauntedroseart @3-2-whump @fleur-a-whump @whumpsday

@whumpisfun @whumper-whimsy @ghost-whump @fabled-whump @violets-whumperflies

@whumped-by-glitter @thewhumpening-thesequel @lumpofsand @whumpycries @unicornbeck

@gala1981 @a-formless-entity @ryahisbored @mentallyunwellautism @idontreallyexistyet

@aethernorwood @starfields08000

#whump #whump community #whump tropes #whump writing #whumpblr #whump scenario #whump ideas #nonhuman whumpee #magical whump #pirate whump #cyoa game #cyoa whump #oc whump #magic whump #fantasy whump

[liittlenightmares]

Mono's trick.

#this was something I had been working on but never finished #I posted a teaser back like. half a year ago. a year ago. idk #not a very strong premise behind it but the idea was that #well. they figured out the loop and tricked the bad guys lol #as you can tell the quality desintegrates at the end LMAO #maybe ill come back to it one day #little nightmares #little nightmares 2 #little nightmares ii #mono #mono ln #six ln #six #i forgot what tags i fucking use lmao #ln #my art

[belligerentbagel]

take this sinking boat and point it home  we've still got time  raise your hopeful voice, you have a choice  you've made it now 

widojest 4: after the end 🍎

#widojestweek2022 #widojest #critical role #yes this IS one of the WIPs that i thought would be eternally unfinished. went back in and cleaned it up bc i am fond of pastoral settings #don't think this would be a 'permanent' home bc i think jester would want to travel & caleb is suited for teachering things #but maybe a summer home on an m9 timeshare? a honeymoon or weekend house in the marrow valley? #the comforting smell of grass and leaves and flowers on a sunny day #despite the warmth that settles in by noon; the cider in the picnic basket is still preciously cool under its cloth #there's a stream further off that you can poke your feet into; or splash at the small aquatic critters that make their home there #there is time and world and quiet enough to read a book or paint the clouds or chase dragonflies or pull weeds out of the earth #you have earned a quiet ending #i think sometimes on the comparative quietness of the m9's epilogue to vm's epilogue #they became sovereigns and mythical figures. people at the edges of tal'dorei know their names #m9 saved the world from an unknowable otherplanar horror and - #- save for a few small villages and a band of reformed bandits and other individual souls they have touched - #(and. well. the kryn empire) #they would not be recognised faces in dwendalian towns #they didn't do it for glory; they really just did things for justice and righting imbalances and getting their friends back #you can have the sun-drenched house and the apple tarts and the peace in your dreams at last #draws #widojestweek #jester lavorre #caleb widogast