#which i’ve been thinking about reading for a while and i finally found it cheap

[miracleonice87]

behind the scenes at 30 rock

part of the kissing kelce universe

a/n: the newest installment is here! takes place during Travis's SNL appearance. includes guest appearances from jason, mama and papa kelce, and kelsea ballerini. enjoy!

warnings: mention of pregnancy / related sickness / babies, alcohol, swearing, i think that's it

word count: ~4,000

___

March 5, 2023 

Travis was mere hours from hosting Saturday Night Live, the biggest honor of his entire life and career outside of football. 

And you? You were sitting alone in his green room – an appropriate name, considering how you were constantly green in the gills these days – being sick in a trash can. 

Travis was rehearsing on stage, along with Jason and the cast, while Donna, Ed, and Trav’s management team were being toured around the studio. You had hung back after muttering a lame excuse about needing to call home and walk your parents through how to record the show tonight. Donna had eyed you suspiciously but let it go… and the group left you alone just in time for you to cough up your guts moments after the door closed. 

The wave of sickness lasted for a good three or four minutes, and as you sat up weakly, pressing the inside of your wrist to your sweaty forehead before reaching into your purse for your breath spray, you wondered how the fuck you were going to clean this up without anyone noticing. With a groan, you reached for some paper towels, crumpling them up and shoving them into the bag of the offending trash can, then tied the cheap plastic bag tightly closed and put it in another empty trash bag which, thankfully, you found inside the can. Somehow, you kept the gagging to a minimum as you picked up the bundle of bags and walked toward the door, taking a deep breath in when you reached it.

This is so fucking embarrassing. 

You cracked the door open just far enough to call out to a young PA walking down the hallway. As he drew closer, you called sheepishly, “Excuse me?”

He whipped his head up and stood straight, not having noticed the partially open door until you spoke.

“Oh, Mrs. Kelce!” he said with a polite smile. “Yes, can I help you?”

You winced visibly. “Actually, yes,” you admitted softly. “Please know that I absolutely hate to do this, but… I was just, uh, sick, in here and… I was wondering if it was possible to get rid of this for me?” You held the bag up a few inches and smiled at him apologetically. “I swear I’m not drunk, I’m just, uh… I’m not feeling well.”

He nodded and gave you an understanding smile. 

“Not a problem, Mrs. Kelce,” he said, carefully reaching for the bag. “Trust me, I’ve dealt with much worse than this,” he said playfully, and you were grateful for his assistance and his attempt to make you feel better. “You let us know if you need anything else, alright?” 

“Thank you so much,” you said quietly. You read his nametag before continuing. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this, Jeremy. And, um, one more thing…”

He nodded again. “Anything.”

“Keep this between us?” you said softly, lifting an index finger to your lips.

Slowly, a knowing smirk stretched across his lips. “Of course,” he assured. “My lips are sealed.”

You nodded, mouthing a final “thank you.” You closed the door and rested your head against the cool frame, closing your eyes and exhaling slowly, relieved that that hadn’t been as painful as you’d feared, and making a mental note to send Jeremy some piece of memorabilia signed by Travis as a token of your gratitude. 

You jumped when, just a few moments later, a soft knock came on the other side of the door.

“One second!” you called, ducking into the view of the lighted mirror to check your appearance, reaching for a tissue to wipe at the corners of your mouth. 

“Hey, it’s Kelsea,” a voice said quietly. “Can I come in?”

You smiled. Not only was it Travis’s first time on SNL, but it was also the first appearance for the musical guest, Kelsea Ballerini, who just so happened to be one of your favorite artists and one of the most-played on your Spotify account. You had briefly met her earlier and were able to tell her what a big fan of hers you were, and you were thrilled that she was back again, presumably to chat or maybe to take a quick photo before the show.

“Yes, come in!” you called cheerfully as you cleared your throat and tossed the tissue into the trash from three-point range, plastering a mega-watt smile on your features as if nothing at all had happened in the last ten minutes. 

She opened the door wearing a sweats set and carrying one of the SNL bags given to each special guest, and you noticed her freshly finished hair and makeup – the final step before the show would be to change into her outfit, which was sure to be stunning.

As you were about to open your mouth to tell her how beautiful she looked already, she shut the door and said abruptly, “Are you okay?”

Your stomach fluttered, this time due to nerves and not the baby in your belly. 

How did she know?

You swallowed hard and tried your best to play it off. 

“Yeah, I’m fine!” you lied through your teeth with a wave of your hand. “Why do you ask?”

She smiled and shyly ducked her head before meeting your eyes again.

“Well, my boyfriend Chase was just walking past and overheard you talking to the PA about being sick…” You pursed your lips, trying as hard as you could to keep a grin from your face. Kelsea forged ahead. “Now, listen, you do not have to tell me if you don’t want to, of course, but… I doubt you’d be here at all if you had the stomach flu, and you don’t seem like you’ve had too much to drink, so…”

You chuckled quietly, then nodded. After a long pause, you copped. 

“We literally just found out a week ago…”

Kelsea covered her mouth as she screamed silently and began hopping from one foot to the other. 

“Oh, my god, oh, my god! Congratulations!” she whisper-yelled as she wrapped you in a warm hug. In your wildest dreams, you could have never guessed that Kelsea Ballerini would be the second person – well, technically the third, if Jeremy had in fact caught your drift – in the world whom you told that you were expecting. Kelsea pulled away and held you at arm’s length. “Okay, well, I’m glad I asked – I had a feeling so I brought ginger ale and Jolly Ranchers. That’s what helped one of my girlfriends through her whole first trimester.” 

She reached into the bag hanging from her forearm and produced said items, and you pressed a hand to your lips as tears pricked your eyes. 

“Sorry, ignore me!” you exclaimed, laughing as you accepted the items. “It’s the freaking hormones. But that is so sweet of you. Thank you. You did not have to do that – you have a show to prepare for!” 

She waved her hand nonchalantly. “I know, I know, but this is just girl code,” she said decidedly. “I’ll run back out there in a sec but I wanted to make sure you were okay. Here, sit, sit,” she insisted as she motioned toward the velvet couch. 

You did as you were instructed and happily screwed the cap off of the soda, taking a few small sips. The coolness and carbonation of the drink were a welcome sensation on your tongue. 

“So nobody else knows?” Kelsea whispered excitedly, scrunching her nose with glee. 

As you swallowed, you smiled. “No,” you whispered back, and Kelsea squealed. “I’m only six weeks. We’re gonna tell my brother- and sister-in-law and his parents tomorrow when we go to Philly to meet the new baby, but right now it’s just us who know. And you!” 

She clapped her fingertips together enthusiastically. “This is the coolest thing ever!” she exclaimed, tipping her head back. 

“Don’t tell Trav that you know!” you warned as you unrolled a watermelon Jolly Rancher and popped it into your mouth. “He won’t be upset, but then he’ll wonder how you found out, and he’s been so worried about how sick I’ve been. I mean, he tried to cancel this,” you explained, motioning generally around the room. 

Kelsea held up a hand. “I swear on my life – again, girl code,” she promised. “But what I am gonna do? Is tell my boyfriend to keep an eye on you during the show and get you an out if needed. I don’t need to tell him why – he’ll listen.” 

You reached to rest your hand on her knee, squeezing it affectionately. “Thank you, Kelsea,” you said sincerely. “I really appreciate it. I’d say we’d name our baby after you, but that might be a little weird.”

Kelsea burst into a fit of laughter. “Yeah, Kelsea Kelce might be a bit much,” she admitted. “We can workshop it though.”

You giggled, then took another sip of ginger ale.

“Think you’ll be okay to sit through this whole thing?” she asked as you reached for the bag of salt and vinegar chips you’d stashed in Travis’s bag as you were leaving the hotel earlier. 

You nodded. “Usually I’m okay for a few hours once I’ve eaten something. Today’s just been so crazy that I hadn’t even realized I hadn’t eaten enough. I can tell you that won’t happen again,” you told her as you popped a chip into your mouth.

Kelsea tutted. “Girl, I get it. I get hangry so easily, and I’m not even pregnant,” she confessed as you beamed. “Well, I’m gonna get out there, but I’m glad you’re hanging in there. And I’m so happy for you and Travis, truly – I know we just met but it’s not hard to see how much y’all love each other and love your family, and you’re gonna be amazing parents.” 

Tears welled in your eyes once more as you wrapped your free arm around Kelsea’s neck, and she hugged your waist. 

“Thank you,” you managed, voice watery. You sat back and cleared your throat. “Now, break a leg! No pressure, but you’re technically baby’s first concert.”

Kelsea gaped. “I didn’t even think of that!” she said giddily. “Oh, my god, I’m gonna turn it all the way on then.” 

___

Backstage, a few hours later, Kelsea and Travis locked eyes in the moments immediately following the end of the live taping and the chaos that ensued. Over her head, she pointed both index fingers at him, doing her best to make a beeline to him through the sea of cast, crew, family, and friends. Travis danced toward her as though he had just caught a touchdown in the corner of the end zone at Arrowhead. 

“You did it!” he exclaimed, booming voice echoing throughout the short distance between them.

As she finally reached him, she extended both hands to high-five him, then the two embraced giddily. 

“We did it!” she shouted back, clapping him on the back. “You absolutely killed it out there!” 

Travis pulled back to point at Kelsea. “You were amazing,” he praised. “You sounded incredible!”

“Thank you, thank you,” she said, bowing playfully. “God, what a night!”

Travis rubbed his palms together. “What a fucking night indeed,” he concurred. “Now it’s time to celebrate – I’m gonna go find my family and get this freakin’ makeup off,” he laughed, then looked at her pointedly. “See you and Chase at the afterparty?”

Kelsea looked at him as though he were crazy. “Are you kidding? We’ll be there with bells on. I’ll meet you for shots in twenty,” she assured, then her expression grew more serious, and she leaned up to speak into Travis’s ear quietly enough so that no one could hear. “Just make sure you check on wifey first – and make sure she eats something before we go out.”

As Kelsea took a step back, Travis eyed her in disbelief. 

“Wait, how did you-”

Kelsea pressed an index finger to her lips. 

“I’m sworn to secrecy – girl code,” she whispered. Then, as she backed away, she mouthed, “congratulations.” 

He shook his head, a bashful smile on his face, and mouthed back, “thank you.”

___

Another hour into the night, after Travis had made sure you had your fill of the Chinese takeout he’d made certain to have a PA deliver to you right after the show, you were watching him hold court in the middle of Mermaid Oyster Bar in Times Square, simultaneously amused by and in awe of the way he was being doted upon as king of the city, even if just for the night. The poignance and ferocity of your first hug upon finding him after the show rivaled the embraces shared between the two of you after both Super Bowl victories, after your wedding vows, and, most recently, upon finding out you were expecting. 

But never in any of those sacred moments had you been so fucking tired as you were right now. Fighting against the exhaustion that threatened to overpower you at any moment as you watched Travis in a daze, you hid a yawn behind your palm and blinked furiously. In the corner of your private booth reserved for family, Donna sat sipping her cocktail, eyes never leaving you. When Ed got up from the table to meet someone at Jason’s behest, Donna scooted closer to you, leaning in so that she could be heard above the thumping music. 

“We should do a tequila shot together – I know it’s your favorite, and it’s a special occasion!” she suggested, nudging your shoulder with hers. 

You threw her a smile which you hoped wasn’t riddled with the anxiety you felt at the proposition. 

“You’re crazy!” you accused in jest. “It’s been such a long day, I’ll fall asleep if I take a shot.”

Donna nodded decisively, took a generous sip of her drink, and placed her hand atop yours on the table, studying you. 

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

“Mom!” you suddenly heard from behind you, the single syllable tinged with a familiar northeast Ohio accent, and you and Donna both turned your heads to find her youngest son gaping at you, blue eyes wide with bewilderment and lips parted. “What the fuck?!” he spat as he hurried around to the front of the booth.

Donna guffawed. “Well, now I definitely have my answer!” she said, smacking the table gleefully before throwing her arms around you. “Congratulations, honey!” she exclaimed, kissing your cheek. “Oh, I’m so happy for you!” She reached for Travis’s hand as he tucked into the seat next to you, and you leaned against the table to allow mother and son as much space as possible to embrace behind you in the cramped booth.

“What’s happening?” Jason questioned as he approached alongside Ed, his signature brows furrowed as he looked at you accusingly. Travis and Donna parted and turned their attention to the other two Kelces. You pursed your lips before bursting into nervous laughter. 

“Well… our mother just accused this one of being pregnant,” Travis announced, wrapping an arm tightly around your shoulders as you offered a playful wave, watching Jason’s eyebrows shoot straight up, his color draining from his face at the perceived uncomfortable moment. “And as only Mom could be, she was 100% correct in that assumption.”

“Ayyyy-yyy-yyy!” Jason erupted, throwing his arms into the air before slinging them around both you and Travis at the same time, as Ed clapped in the background. “That’s fucking amazing! Oh my god!” 

As Jason made space for Ed to congratulate the two of you, Donna put a finger in the air. 

“I want to make it clear that I did not ask based on her weight or appearance or anything of the sort,” she insisted, one hand flush to her chest as if reciting the Pledge of Allegiance. “I only asked because she turned down a tequila shot for the first time in the many years that I have known her.”

Jason and Ed cackled, and Travis drew you even closer into his side. 

“Alright nah! That’s my girl,” he joked, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Only eight more months until your next one, sweetness.”

“That is very unlike her, I’ll give you that,” Ed concurred. “So, when are you due, sweetheart?”

You looked up at Travis and shared an elated grin. “Uh, November 6!” you announced. “It’s early – we only just found out last week.”

As Donna clapped furiously and Ed nodded, beaming, Jason held up both hands.

“Hold on, hold on, hold on… isn’t that the first day of Travis’s bye?” he asked incredulously. 

You nodded happily as Travis bobbled his head from side to side, pride and euphoria radiating from him, especially in his alcohol-flooded state. Jason stood still as a statue, gaping. “This is insane! You’re probably gonna get to be with her and the baby for, like, multiple days and not have to work or go anywhere,” he pointed out.

Travis nodded knowingly. “You’re goddang right, brotha – everything’s coming up Kelce! Ha haaa!”

Jason chuckled. “You’re unbelievable,” he said, shaking his head. “But shit, am I happy for you guys! Oh, my god, Ky’s gonna flip!”

Travis squeezed your bicep and implored, “Jason, please do not go back to your hotel and drunkenly call her, okay? We’ve been planning to wait and tell her in person tomorrow when we get to your house to meet Benny, which is when we were gonna tell all of you, but apparently Mom had other plans!” 

Jason crossed his heart. “Um, you might have to take my phone away from me to make sure that doesn’t happen, but I promise I won’t do it on purpose.”

___

You somehow managed to stay awake until four in the morning, largely thanks to the advice Jason had received from Rich Eisen to sleep in for as long as possible that morning in order to prep for the wild night after the show, but you realized you had finally hit your wall when the crew was ready to head to another location and you were not. Travis pulled you into his chest while the group discussed the route to the next party, his big hands resting on your lower back to keep you close. He ducked his head to speak into your ear, as private a conversation as could be managed in the midst of a gaggle of people.

“I don’t think I’m gonna go,” he said simply. 

You shot him a “yeah fucking right” look and immediately shook your head. “No, baby, you’re going – that’s not even a question,” you argued, smoothing a hand across his broad chest. “I’m gonna head back and get some sleep, you’re gonna stay out as late as you can keep your eyes open, and that’s final,” you said, poking him in the sternum. 

His fingers ghosted up and down your spine as you spoke, and he smirked in amusement, knowing better than to continue to fight you on this. 

“Are you absolutely certain?” he asked. “Because you just say the word and I swear to god, we turn around and walk out that door and go back together right now.” 

You shook your head again, toying with his silver chain. “Absolutely not, Trav,” you reiterated. “I’m certain. This is a once-in-a-lifetime deal, and you’re gonna enjoy every second of it. And to be frank, I’m gonna pass out the moment my head hits the pillow, so it’s not gonna make a difference to me whether you’re there or not. Until morning, and you can go back to holding my hair back for me.” 

Travis giggled, and his long arms wrapped you in an all-consuming hug as he buried a kiss in your hair. “Gladly,” he stated, and you knew he meant it. He dropped another kiss to your forehead and added, “I love you so bad.”

You hummed appreciatively and tipped your head up to peck his lips. “I love you so bad,” you echoed. “This has been incredible, watching you shine. You were amazing, babe. I’m so proud of you.” 

The humility and delight in his eyes was overwhelming, and he cradled the back of your head to thank you with a passionate kiss, the kind usually reserved for private spaces. But this was a special occasion, not to mention how much alcohol your husband had consumed by this point, so you simply smiled against his lips until he pulled away for air. 

“Couldn’t have done it without you, my girl,” he said warmly. “Be safe. Text me when you’re in. I’ll see you soon.”

You nodded, squeezing his waist. 

“I will,” you promised. “Have a ball, 87.” 

_____

But truth be told, Travis did not have a ball once you had left him. Admittedly, he had watched your location on his phone incessantly while you traveled the short distance from the Mermaid back to your hotel, grateful that his mom had accompanied you, having had enough of the party for the night herself. Once he had watched the blue dot representing you reach the front of the hotel, then become stagnant once you had apparently reached your room and minutes later texted him “made it back, getting ready for bed - love you ❤️”, he tried his damnedest to focus on being present and enjoying himself, reminding him that this night was special, just as you’d said. 

But with every drink that was poured down his throat, with every celebrity he tried his best to entertain, with every introduction by somebody he was supposed to recognize to somebody else he was supposed to recognize, his thoughts were always, only, with you – whether you were asleep yet, how you were sleeping if so, if you had had enough to eat, how you were feeling. He’d spent so much time away from you this week because of the rigorous schedule of meetings and rehearsals that he just missed you with every fiber of his being – he swore it had to be biological, because anyone who knew Travis Kelce knew that he loved a party, especially one celebrating him. Though he’d never quite felt this way before, his heart simply wasn’t in it. 

Around 5 in the morning, he locked eyes with Jason and gave him the high sign, hand gesturing at his neck to indicate that he’d had his fill of the SNL pandemonium. Jason gave a knowing smile and nod, well aware of what was coming next – an Irish exit by his younger brother. Travis knew he would be there for another hour if he attempted to say goodbye to each and every person at the party, even just the ones he knew personally, and with his one-track mind focused solely on his exhausted pregnant wife back in his suite, he made the executive decision to dip out through a side door near the bathrooms. He quickly made his way to the car waiting for him, shared a nod with the driver, and climbed into the backseat. 

“How you doin’, man? Back to the hotel, please,” he requested. 

“Of course, Mr. Kelce,” the driver replied. “Do you need to make any stops first?”

Travis smiled softly and shook his head. “Not a one – thank you.” 

Finally, after what had to be the longest day of his life, he snuck back into the hotel unnoticed thanks to the accommodating staff, slipped in the door to the penthouse suite, quickly shed his outfit leaving on only his boxers, and snuggled into bed behind you, pressing his chest against your back. At his familiar touch and scent, you inhaled deeply and moaned softly, glancing over your shoulder and throwing him a sleepy smile.

“Hey, superstar, you made it back,” you greeted him, voice raspy and thick with sleep as your head dropped back to the pillow.

“Mmhmm, and I have been dreaming of this all day long,” he whispered, kissing a line from your shoulderblade, up your neck, along your jaw and ending at your temple. “Go back to sleep, sweet thing. I gotchu.” 

“Mmm, ‘kay. Love you, Trav,” you all but slurred, instantly slipping back into your slumber. 

He smiled so big it hurt his face, completely, wholly, overwhelmingly, blissfully content as his hand settled on your lower stomach where a baby bump was still weeks from appearing, your warm fingers lazily covering his. 

“I love you, mama.”

#kissing kelce #travis kelce #my writing #travis kelce fic #travis kelce fanfic #travis kelce fanfiction #travis kelce fluff #travis kelce x reader

[entomolog-t]

Hey! I’ve been a fan of G/T content for quite a while, but I’ve mostly stuck to Deviantart&Wattpad. Pretty recently I decided to create a Tumblr account in an attempt to find more content, and I’ve been amazed by how interactive the community is here! However, I noticed something that I find pretty weird, and just wanted to get an opinion from someone who seems to be a pretty active member of the community, at least from what I’ve seen.

In all the posts I’ve seen, I’ve never seen VR mentioned even once. I might just not be looking in the right place, but I just found it weird. I’ve been an avid VRChat player for a while, and having spent a large amount of time there I noticed the potential it holds for genres like G/T. I was expecting to find at least a single mention of it somewhere here, but I never have. I see lots of posts from both sides of G/T that mention something like, “I really wish I could just hold/be held by someone, etc.” and, well, I’ve had experiences like that. I’ve fallen asleep and woken up in a friend’s hands before. I’ve had friends sitting/standing on my shoulder. They don’t even know this community exists, these interactions just happen naturally. 

I just want to share some of the experiences I’ve had, and when I went looking, nobody here seemed to know it was even possible. So yeah, that’s what finally motivated me to interact directly with the community. To at least let someone know that it is possible, and far more accessible than most seem to realize.

I’ll also make a standard post, but considering the fact that I’m a very new account I don’t expect many to see it. Thus why I messaged directly. I know this was a bit of a ramble, I'm still a little nervous about finally interacting with something I've only passively watched for quite a long time. So thanks for taking the time to read through, and I’d love to hear your opinion on why it isn’t mentioned, or anything else you wanna say! Take care out there!

OH! This is quite the interesting ask!! I may not be the best person to answer as I am far from techie.

First off, that sounds incredibly fun! I've only ever tried VR with an escape room - which oddly enough had a silly sizey experience; There was an issue with the calibration or something on one of the headsets and a friend who's just a little over 5ft had their in game avatar show up ballpark around 7ft tall.

I love that g/t seems to happen naturally with your interactions too! I'd love to hear more!

Now for the meat of the question- why isn't this mentioned? Again, keep in mind, I'm no techie or avid gamer so this is really biased towards myself. In no particular order,

Age

Price point

Tech Difficulty

Privacy

Missing sensations

My first guest would be age. I myself am in my mid/late twenties, and just never really grew up with that kind of tech, so theres just a lack of knowledge and not more than a passing interest in it. I think with age there also comes issues with free time, though I'll speak on that more with privacy. I think in general there tends to be a perception that VR chat rooms have a lot of minors (whether this is true or not, I have no clue, but as an adult that is a concern).

My second guess would be price point. Now, again, I am not a tech wiz, so I really don't know too well what would be a good headset (if any ol' cheap one would work, or if the oculus is the way to go), but I know the well known headsets are not at all cheap, and do also require a something to run them on (from my understanding thats just a good enough gaming pc? I have no clue.) Basically, there is a monetary component at play.

Thirdly would be tech difficulty. Some people are just bad at technology, and don't want to learn a new form of it.

Now privacy is what I would think is a big factor- and not online privacy. Roommates, siblings, spouses, family- if someone lives with another person they may not be comfortable being seen interacting on VRchat (especially with how paranoid some of us get with g/t), and then finding alone time is just an absolute pain with work, school, clubs, responsibilities etc.

Lastly, I think some people are hesitant about the missing sensations. Essentially, "who cares if all I can do is see it, I want to feel it." I think for some people it may have the opposite effect, and the degree of realism mixed with the very obviously "not real" cues could be more upsetting- being so close to having something you fantasize about but being reminded its not actually real.

Those are just my thoughts- and I hope others will add some of their own! This is quite the interesting topic and I'd love to hear more about it! As I mentioned earlier, I have very limited experience with VR, but from what little experience I did have it was a ton of fun! I feel like VRchat could be something a lot of people in the community could enjoy if they knew more/had access to it.

#Whew #Long one #I have no clue if I'm accurate about this one #I am a hick who has very limited tech knowledge #I am a whiz with spreadsheets #Thats about it #g/t community

[nancypullen]

Thursday Night

The mister has gone out to take some night photos of possibly creepy places, so I’m at home watching Dateline.  I made big salads for dinner and then we ate coconut ice cream bars. Those two sentences sum up our Thursday night.  This is retirement, folks.  I actually spent a good fifteen minutes watching the sprinkler today.  A couple of weeks ago we raked up the three inch layer of small landscape rocks that the previous owners used for their fire pit.  It was right off of the patio, they hadn’t used any sort of weed cloth or barrier, and it was an awful, messy, weedy spot.  Once we got the rocks up, Mickey spread some dirt and grass seed and now we’re babying that little patch to make sure the grass grows.  That’s why I spent fifteen minutes watching the sprinkler today - that actually sounds better than I was watching grass grow. I’ve been foofing up my little spot on the porch.  It’s quickly becoming my favorite hangout.  It’s shaded, hidden from the street, and has views of all the gardens.  I found a cheap metal table that was sort of an ugly putty color, and painted it white and red.

I slapped a placemat on it and then added a little pot of lobelia.  

Presto change-o!

You know how much I love red gingham. If I can squeeze it in anywhere, I will. So I did.

That wreath may need a birdie on it or something.  I need a second pillow too.  Maybe a pale green with roses? 

Eh, maybe not.  I’ll dig around and see what I’ve got and go from there. Probably should have used red flowers in that pot, but lobelia is what I had. This is all subject to change but it’s a nice space for now. I love sitting out here in the morning, listening to the birds and contemplating the day. What’s that poem about birds singing despite the world being a wreck?  I can’t think of it, but I appreciate their songs in a world gone mad. We thought about driving over to Rehobeth Beach this week, it’s only about 45 minutes away and there’s a mile-long boardwalk where we could have lunch and check things out.  The days got away from us and tomorrow is supposed to be rainy, maybe next week.  We did snag tickets to see/hear David Sedaris at the BrowseAbout Bookstore there at the end of May.  That’ll be fun.  He’s always entertaining.   Aside from watching grass grow and painting anything that doesn’t run away from me, It’s just been cooking and cleaning. We did run a couple of errands earlier this week and made a pit stop at  the Ridgely Pharmacy lunch counter for a sandwich.  They have the best chicken salad in three counties. I finally worked my way through the delicious crabs our neighbor brought over.  I used the last bit for breakfast.  A toasted sandwich thin, a mound of crab, a little gouda and a generous sprinkle of Old Bay made my mouth very happy.

I don’t normally eat breakfast, but I’ll make an exception for crab.

I’m itching to get into my craft room and do something creative.  I’m overdue.  I’m hoping that tomorrow’s rain will give me the time at my desk that I’m craving.  I haven’t touched clay or even paper for over a month.  I get cranky when I don’t have that time. Mickey moved my cabinet into place for me and I put my Cricut on top which frees up loads more work space for me.  I mostly use the Cricut to cut out my dead people, and I need to commune with them soon.

It’s a perfect fit for the space and the storage is wonderful.   It’s calling to me. Pray for rain so I can play inside.

This blog post is a discombobulated bunch of nonsense.  No one wants to read this boring stuff.  I started this little corner of the web back in 2007.   Can you believe it?  It used to be a hoot.  I had great material - kids, animals, my job in the school system. My stint with Clinique was blog-worthy too. The many, many years where I was on my own while the mister traveled every week - I got up to all sorts of hijinks that were worth writing about on Tumblr.  Now we’re just a couple of old fogies who think it’s a big deal to stop for a chicken salad sandwich. Help.  I’m five months from turning 60 and I want my life to be funny again.  I’m staying busy making this house our own, but if I buy much more spray paint I’m sure I’ll be on some sort of DEA watchlist.  If we’d moved somewhere that I could go to water aerobics or craft fairs, I’d have made friends by now and had some adventures.  We’re almost at the one year anniversary of our move here and I’m still counting my once-a-week grocery haul as an outing. Help.  I have no girlfriends to talk to (I just offended the cats by saying that), no one to meet for lunch.  Where are the fun ladies of Denton?  There’s no jazzercise or Zumba classes, where am I supposed to meet my people?  The nicest person (and the most fun person) I’ve met so far is the program director for the Caroline County Arts Council.  She’s an absolute delight.  But she’s also very young and is busy with a young person’s life. I’m looking for someone with some mileage who knows how to talk about perennials and peri-menopause. Who am I kidding? Full blown menopause, I just liked the alliteration with perennials. So there you have it, I’m home alone and watching Dateline, missing my sweet friends, and thinking that I’d better go take a bubble bath and lose myself in a good book.  Tomorrow I hope I wake up to rain and spend my day creating some silliness.  Maybe even something worth sharing here! Until then, stay safe, stay well, and take good care. XOXO,

Nancy

[donpishya]

I don’t know if a similar, incomplete message was sent your way. If so please ignore it. The system sent it by accident before is was ready

____________

So I’ve been doing some research on John Randolph and there’s some interesting things I’ve found. There’s a theory his androgynous appearance may have been due to Klinefelter syndrome which left him physically incapable of feeling any form of “eros” attraction. Privately, his medical condition made him feel isolated and lonely and he longed for a normal life with a wife and children, which he knew he’d could never have.

He was described to be eerily beautiful, his face smooth, unable to grow a beard. He hated himself for his inability to physically mature and quickly became violent with anyone who mocked him for it. Some descriptions of him are as follows:

Realizing he couldn’t be traditionally masculine, no matter how he wished to be, he would use his appearance to his advantage to make his contemporaries uncomfortable:

This performance was essentially a power-move from Randolph who accentuated his physical beauty which simultaneously utilizing symbols of masculine power such as riding crops, whips, and hunting dogs. He felt it was the only way he could exert masculine respect in Congress in spite of his medical condition.

His father died when he was two and he spend his youth with his mother, whom he loved dearly and later in life stated “only one human being ever knew me. She only knew me.” His days spend with her appear to be the happiest time in his life. His relationship with his step-father being strained and having few true father figures in his life to look up too, Randolph desperately wanted someone who, in his eyes, embodied true masculinity; someone he could look up to.

You can see this sentiment leak into some of his unrelated rants such as here:

For Randolph, that man was Jackson.

Not only was was Jackson physically manly, but he wasn’t just a dumb brute. He had a code of honor, was gentlemanly, and didn’t mince his words or try to alter himself or mealy mouth for the sake of pleasing others, he simply WAS himself. Plus Jackson deeply respected and valued women, something that was very important in the eyes of Randolph.

Not only that but Jackson respected Randolph and saw him as a great man. Jackson never made cheap jokes at his physical appearance or cared about his condition, he saw Randolph as a man for his masculine principles. 

I think Randolphs feelings towards Jackson are more feelings of profound respect and reverence. Jackson was the epitome of what a true man ought to be, something Randolph had sought his whole life (not to mention he saved the country during the war of 1812). Randolph loved Jackson the way one might love a firefighter who risks everything to save people from a fire (especially if the other firefighters are just roasting marshmallows while everything burns).

Whatever the case, it’s clear Randolph felt very differently towards Jackson than anyone else as he never fawned or exalted anyone the way he did with Jackson. And this was a man that meant ever word he said, couth or uncouth

Sorry for turning you into a research-dumpster. I just wanted to dump this information on someone who actually is interested in this stuff. :P

Thank you for all of these informations!

I did know he would do bizarre things to show his masculinity and had a low temper when mocked. And also that he had a illness that made him look young, beautiful and immature. But I never heard that there was a theory on him having Klinefelter syndrome before. And his childhood makes his behaviors even more understandable.

I understand now why Randolph was soft on Jackson and wanted to see him during his last days... 😢

But my heart warms that he finally was able to find a father figure, a person he could look up to.🥲

It's ok! I really am thankful for all the informations you give me! I always enjoy reading it! 😊💖

#質問 #john randolph

[gothfionaapple]

New Years Eve

I don’t really like NYE but I’ll take any opportunity to categorise. My run down of 2023 in case I need a comparison next year:

I watched all of the Handmaids Tale so far. I think it’s genuinely the best television that has ever existed and maybe ever will. The layers of visual theory, symbolism and character depth is unmatchable. It’s a brutal show, and hard to watch at times, but at least the assault scenes don’t feel like a director had to watch hardc0re p0 rn to get the visual direction needed *.

I genuinely believe the best movie I watched - although there were some incredible ones - was Rise of the Planet of the Apes. The rest of the series so far is pretty good too. It reads like a recipe for revolution.

To make a note on watching things, and reviewing them, over this year I’ve become convinced that 80% of “movie critics” don’t know how to watch a movie. Especially the most revered ones. I cant stand reading a review about a historical drama that only talks about the accuracy of the historical moments - a movie is a dramatic audio-visual storytelling medium that builds worlds around a core thesis or idea about what being human is - not a history channel clip to play in a year 9 class. It’s a cheap attack that’s often made on films that pay attention to race and gender. There are so many other examples of this** and it made me angry lots of times this year.

I barely read or listened to anything substantial, or I did and I don’t remember any of it enough. This just wasn’t my year for focus or exploration. I looked at a lot of art but it all sort of runs over me sometimes and nothing truly stuck. Except for some Dadaist stuff which I think about all the time.

I started the year a lot more malnourished and unhealthy than I am now. I quit smoking nearly 3 weeks ago, which is huge for me 4 weeks ago, who didn’t think it was possible. The odd thing about making big changes like eating breakfast and not smoking (both life changing) is that nobody really cares, because you were the only one who thought about it all the time. But there’s a couple less things I need to punish myself for.

On that, addiction & addictive patterns have been a huge thing in my life, whether my own cycles or other people’s, and it’s nice to kick a couple habits. It’s frustrating knowing that the medium has to be substituted, not disappeared, but I’ve found some benefits to having this personality type, or at least managed to convince myself that it’s healthy to do puzzles for at least an hour everyday (what am I training for??).

While this is all very lighthearted, 2023 was otherwise pretty atrocious, with much more time spent in hospitals (and funeral homes) than I planned for. I’ve never felt so under attack by fate in my life! But, unfortunately, I’m not stupid enough to think that these things have to be confined to a calendar year, so I wont say that I’m glad it’s over.

On my final note, shoutout to Sydney for being so sexy this year. I’m grateful to have been witness to such incredible vibes, and some really great ribbon-in-hair action. I love this city with my whole heart.

* maybe next year I will write my analysis of assault scenes in film and put it here for no one to read

** maybe I will also write a critique of my least favourite popular critics.

#text

[apricuscity]

Mayor Lowell Presents: Apricus Docks

“Hello again, Apricus City! Today’s tour of the city will be a sort of double feature, but also... not.” The mayor stands on a large barge overlooking the city from the waterfront. Behind him is a huge assortment of ships big and small at the massive harbor of the north docks.

“For those of you who aren’t aware there are technically two docking districts in the city on each side of Aurora Vale- both of which are run by Larsen’s Mariner Services. Each of them serves a specific function to the maritime economy and defense of the city and it’s something Hector and his Marines take quite seriously. We’ll go over both of them today as we cruise down the coast of the city.”

“As you can see, we’re at the Upper Docks. This is the bustling business center of the Docks and where Larsen’s Mariner services has their headquarters. It’s home to quite a lot of the coast’s more well known sights as well, several of which we’ve covered here before! But let’s talk more of the district’s function.”

“The Upper Docks contains the base of our coast’s most prominent industry- seafood. Fishermen bring their hauls to docks here to have their food inspected, graded, and sold. You can find plenty of fresh fisheries and restaurants here. Almost all fish found throughout the city comes through this place and you can watch many a hard-working man and woman here plying their trade.”

“In addition, at the center of the Upper Docks we’re passing now we can see a parade of warships behind me. We’re now entering the waters of the military base that serve as Apricus’s navy. You may think I’m revealing a major security secret here but rest assured, the Marines have more than enough gumption and ability to handle any threats that come our way. The most common of course are pirates and sea monsters. But we’ll talk about that when I finally discuss the Marines themselves in another presentation.”

“Let’s make our way further south and you can start to see shipyards and workers repairing and building both military and fishing vessels as well as exploratory ships. Larsen’s Mariner Services also partners with Apricus University and some of these ships will be sent to the Univeristy’s Aquatic Research Center offshore. The deep can hold just as much value as the surface of the water I’m told.”

“While we wait for our tour to continue, we’re entering Aurora Vale again. Here we’ll drift between the lit up coastline and several of the major islands near us. It’s certainly a sight, but not what we’re here for, sadly. Let’s make a note to come back to explore the pier out here sometime.”

After a short cut, the scenery changes and the mayor is now drifting behind a series of massive containers and other ships in a slightly dirtier looking set of docks that stretch the horizon behind him. “Here we are, the Lower Docks. It may not look as impressive but it’s vitally important. These docks have two primary functions- shipping and trade. The rivers that come down from the mountains empty out here so the Lower Docks serve as a distribution hub for goods that come from overseas. They’re brought here and examined by our city’s customs office. These containers behind me are a variety of imports and exports that have been exploding in use ever since the city opened up its borders to visitors in full. This is often the first place a new arrival to Apricus City will see depending on the price of their voyage. Docking fees here are quite lower than in the Upper Docks, after all. So long as you don’t mind being surrounded by shipping containers you’ll find cheap passage. Sadly there aren’t nearly as many tourist attractions here but easy access to Delta Town means those who wish can see some of the oldest buildings in the city in no time!”

“I’ve hope I’ve given you all a good overview of what to expect in the Docks and what they offer the city. As always, any questions or recommendations for further presentations should be sent to my desk. I assure you, I read all of them. As always, I’m Mayor Lowell and this has been Mayor Lowell Presents.”

#apricuscity #Mayor Lowell Presents #Flavian Lowell #The Docks

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (66): Wed 18th May 2022

My final day in Portmeirion. It's been amazing and I'm so glad that I finally got round to seeing it. The Prisoner is such an iconic show, I've been a fan of it since I first saw it nearly fifteen years ago and it’s always been an ambition of mine to visit the legendary location where it was filmed. Weirdly for the most part there has been hardly anyone else here for the most part. Normally in the morning there are quite a few people knocking around for breakfast and to get a look at the village but for the rest of the day they seem to just disappear. Both days I've been here there have been times where I've headed out for a walk around the village and I've been completely on my own which has been a simultaneously spooky and peaceful experience. Man I wish that I could live here, by which I mean the entire village on my own. And believe me when a giant comet turns the rest of the population to dust like in the movie Night of the Comet and I'm the only one alive I will definitely move in to the village. I found out through a bit of research that Noel Coward actually stayed in the very cottage I'm currently staying in and even wrote one of his plays Blithe Spirit in it. Huh, imagine that, one of the world's greatest playwrights wrote one of his plays in the same room where I shaved my arse. That will be a good fact to use if I ever get invited on Would I Lie To You? I had to be up early for the bus so I took one last walk around the village in order to take it all in and think of all the great moments from The Prisoner that were filmed here. It's an extraordinarily beautiful resort and I can see why Patrick McGoohan was drawn to it all those years ago and I'm so glad I got to come here. It's been well worth the wait. I knew the journey back to Liverpool was going to be a bitch and it got off to great start as my headphones broke so I couldn't listen to any music or podcasts on the bus ride so I just read my book instead. Something that didn't dawn on me until the bus ride was over was that although this is my first ever trip to Wales I haven't been paying attention to any of it. I was so stressed thinking about getting to the village on time and trying to organize an interview with this place I want to work for that the beautiful Welsh countryside just appeared as a blur on the journey to Portmeirion and on the way back I had my face in a book the entire trip. I would say that I'd like to come back to experience Wales in all it's glory but to be honest I've been to Portmeirion and that basically is all of Wales' glory. Seriously though it would be nice to come back here one day and enjoy Wales just for Wales. When I got to the train station I discovered that I could use my off peak ticket on an earlier train which meant that instead of having to wait around for 4 hours I would only have to wait for one. Since I had some time to kill I went down the road to a local Aldi to buy some new headphones. I used to work at Aldi for six months in 2015 and it was one of the worst experiences of my entire life. While I was in the queue there was a lass in front of me being served and the girl behind the till asked me to reach down and pass her a bag for her to put the customer's shopping in. Fuck me it's been seven years and I'm still working for these cunts it would seem. I’ve actually still got my old Aldi uniform and I keep wanting to take it away with me on a trip somewhere, wear it to an Aldi and be really rude to the customers. The knowledge that they will get complaints and lose business thanks to an employee that no-one has heard of would make me very happy. Once I got to Liverpool I started to realize that if I had to spend another day in Liverpool then that would just be another full day of killing time and stuffing my face so I looked on Trainline and saw that there was a relatively cheap ticket back to Sunderland that was leaving half an hour after I would get into Liverpool Lime Street so I bought it. After all another three hour trip wasnt going to kill me and at least I'd be sleeping in my own bed tonight without a group of strangers making drum noises and the wall sockets for me to charge my phone would definitely be working this fucking time. Black Cherry Blues by James Lee Burke is kind of losing me. The middle bit about the detective being framed for murder, making bail then investigating who set me up was interesting but the last few chapters haven't really engaged me. There was one exchange in the book that I did really like. The detective in the book is sitting at a bar next to a fat, smelly, hair guy and he says to him "Didn't your parents have enough money?", the ugly guy replies "What for?" and the detective says "a condom" before walking off. I finally arrived home after an 8 hour bus / train / foot journey (mainly train) and collapsed into bed and trying not to count down the hours until I'm due back at work. Man the last two weeks has been exhausting but very rewarding. From now on I'm going to start using my holidays wisely and actually start taking trips to places I've always wanted to go.

[sinner-as-saint]

I saw you and I knew.

Biker!Bucky x Reader AU

Run-through: You met Bucky unexpectedly at an unfamiliar bar one night - one of your last nights of freedom before your parents marry you off to some rich, young man. Bucky happened to be so different from all the men you had dated or you were used to seeing that it was a little bit of a surprise how reckless and open he was. You had been subconsciously looking for a way out of the situation you were in for days, so when Bucky makes you a rather unusual proposal; you accept immediately. And it ends up being one of the best things you ever agreed to. 

Themes: smut, fluff, 

a/n: remember this Bucky? Yeah, me too. 

The moment you stepped into the bar, you felt all eyes on you. 

Not in a bad way, more like in an intrigued way. 

A couple of steps in and you realized why; there was no one but bikers in this club. Large, built, mean looking men. But judging by the sound of laughter and the bouncers scattered around the room, you felt oddly safe in the environment. 

You went up to the counter and ordered yourself a drink. Once you found a seat in the less crowded area of the bar, you settled in next to the large window pane; looking out at the passing cars while sipping on your drink. The sun would set soon so the sky was all pink, and-

You felt a tap on your shoulder. “This seat taken?” A male voice spoke up behind you. 

You placed your bottle down and turned to face him. You were aware that you did stare at him for a while. How could you not? Dark, slightly long hair, worn out leather jacket, and tattoos… a lot of them, peeking through his collar and around his wrists. And a perfect face. He gave you a slight smirk when he noticed that you were checking him out but you soon recovered, your heart racing. 

“No, it’s not.” You gestured to the seat across from you, which he then walked over to. 

You watched him, how he moved so confidently. You kept watching as he placed his own beer down, and took his leather jacket off to reveal a loose, ripped t-shirt underneath, as well as his muscular arms; one of them metal and glistening in the dimmed lights of the bar. He folded the jacket carelessly into a ball and placed it down on the table before taking a seat in front of you, leaning back and placing his muscular, tattooed arm over the seat of the booth. You noticed his pierced ears then. 

It almost felt like a strip show. He had barely said enough to you and you were already feeling a little hot, with him staring at you. 

“I’ve never seen you around here before.” He said, and something about his ease, and the softness of his tone, despite his rather mean and dangerous appearance, chased away the little bit of awkwardness which was forming in between you too. It soon vanished. 

You licked your lips and answered, “It’s my first time here actually.” You gave him a polite smile which he returned, giving you the same look that everyone gave you for the first nanoseconds you walked in - an intrigued look. 

He leaned forward, and gently toyed with your car keys laying on the table top. You got a whiff of his scent. You expected him to smell like cigarettes but he smelt like some fading, strong and expensive cologne. Very manly. “You’re a long way from home, aren’t you, Princess?” 

You furrowed your eyebrows at him slightly, not minding the nickname. “How’d you know?” 

He chuckled, and the sound echoed in your head. He sounded so boyish when he laughed, it warmed your heart for some reasons. Something about him screamed trouble, and recklessness and danger. 

“You drive a Benz which no one here does, you’re drinking a martini while everyone is having cheap beers and you’re dressed like a classy lady in a place filled with leather and chains. So tell me, am I right?” He pointed out, his tone cocky and confident like one would expect. 

You leaned back into your seat as well. “You’re judging me.” You pointed out. Funny, you thought you were somewhat blending in here with your little black dress - but clearly not. 

He laughed again, making you crack a little smile. “Princess, look around. You don’t belong here. So tell me, what’s your story? How did you end up in a place like this?” 

You sighed. “I was just… driving around, and I ran out of fuel not far from here. So I called for my chauffeur and didn’t want to wait by the side of the road until he arrived so I figured I could get a drink while waiting.” 

He looked you dead in the eyes while you talked. Nodding at each bit of information. “I meant your real story, Princess. You drove a long way, why? I see it in your eyes. Something’s bothering you. What is it?” 

He was reading you like you were his favorite book. And you found that quite… interesting because no one was ever able to do that normally. It felt intimate. 

“And why should I tell you?” 

“Because you want to. You need a friend, and I’m not half bad, am I?” Cocky, as expected. 

You chuckled. “You won’t get it.” 

He raised an eyebrow. A warning. “What is it? Your conservative and rich father won’t give you your pocket money in thousands this month?” 

Despite the words, he managed to get yet another laugh out of you. “I earn my own money, thank you.” 

“I’ll believe you. Then what is it? Your snobbish, rich playboy boyfriend is acting up?” 

And yet another chuckle left your lips. “You seem to have issues with people who are well-off.” 

He smirked. “Trust me, I don’t. I just want to figure you out.” 

“Why?” 

“Because your eyes are telling me that you’re sad. And that you’ve been contained for too long. You want to be freed. Am I wrong?” 

Your lips parted at the accuracy of his words. “No, you’re not.” You lowered your eyes to the table, but he was quick to reach out with his metal arm and grab you gently by the chin. He tilted your head just enough so you could look at him. 

“What is it, angel?” He asked softly. 

“I… I don’t want to go home.” You whispered, your voice tired and low. 

“Okay. Parents?” He spoke like he could relate. 

You nodded and he gently let go of your face. “Parents.” You confirmed. “They want me to marry one of their friend’s son because according to them it’ll be good for the both of us. And you know, for each of the families’ businesses.” 

He frowned. “You don’t like him, I assume.” 

You sighed. “I don’t know him. He’s a good man according to my mother, who also hasn’t seen him since we were kids. Apparently I met him once or twice but I was too young back then to remember…” you sighed again, “It doesn’t matter anymore.” You shook your head, picking up your glass and taking yet another sip. “ Whoever he is, I can’t say no.” 

He scoffed. “Yes you can.” 

You chuckled, dryly. “You don’t understand. My dad will make my life a living hell if-,”

“Who cares what he thinks? He married the one he loved, didn’t he? Then why not let you find love on your own as well?” He did make sense. 

You smiled sadly, thinking of your parents and their marriage. “I don’t think so.” 

He stopped midway through picking his beer bottle up. “What?” he asked, then went back to picking it up again, bringing it to his pink lips. 

“My dad. I don’t think he married out of love.” You let out a quiet scoff, “I don’t think my mom did either. They just realized that that would be the best for the both of them, I suppose. Now that I think about it, I don’t think they ever truly loved each other at any point.” You tilted your head while looking out at the passing cars out the window. “Mom always told me that marriage isn’t always about love, it’s about convenience.” 

He let out a shameless chuckle. “I’m sorry, but what a bunch of bullshit! You believe her?” He asked in disbelief. 

“It’s all I’ve ever been told all my life. Besides, I don’t have much of a choice anymore, might as well.” 

He frowned at you, setting his bottle down to give you his full attention. “Come on, Princess. You can’t be serious. You can’t give up on love just because your parents did.” 

That earned him a smile from you. “You sound like you know a lot about love.” You leaned forward, placing your elbow on the table, resting your chin on your fist. “It’s your turn, tell me, who has you under their unescapable love spell?” It was surprising how easy it was to talk to him. Almost felt like you had known him all your life. 

He laughed again, that same boyish look on his face. “Nah, none of that. But I do know what it’s like to be contained, and I also know what it’s like to be finally free, with no worries about family pressure or expectations and let me tell you, Princess, it’s the best feeling in the world.” 

That sounded exquisite. It sounded like… like everything you wanted right there and then. To not bother about what mom and dad might think and live for yourself for however long you wanted to. 

“And what gives you that freedom? Riding down the highway at full speed on your mean bike?” You sassed. 

You watched how his eyes lit up. “You’re right. And that’s exactly what you need, Princess. Come on, let’s go!” 

Before you could process anything, he grabbed your hand and stood up. All you could do was quickly grab your purse and keys and you went along with him. You only realized what you were doing once you stepped outside. 

“Wait! I- I…” You were stumbling over your words. A million thoughts rushing through your head all at once. And the piercing pair of blue eyes staring deep into yours weren’t helping at all. 

He walked up to you. “It’s your life. They can’t tell you how to live it. You have every right to find love on your own, and if you don’t want to marry what’s his face then don’t. Parent or not, they can’t do that to you. Come on, let’s go before some old, broody chauffeur gets here.” 

He tugged on your arm gently, walking towards the many bikes which were parked outside the bar. 

“But, I- I’m supposed to leave tomorrow, to see the guy. I’m… I can’t just disappear. Where are we even going? I just met you and I- I don’t even know your name. Besides, you had alcohol. You can’t-,”

“Apple juice.” He stopped, and turned around to look at you. He repeated, “Apple juice. Don’t tell anyone.” 

You looked at him like he was speaking another language. “What?”

“The bartender is a cool guy, I told him I don’t consume alcohol when I ride so he poured apple juice in beer bottles for me so that I can mingle with the crowd but also get home safe.” He explained. 

You giggled uncontrollably at his answer and he lowered his blushing face. “That was funny, but I don’t believe you at all, I-,” you cut yourself off as you laughed; quite unladylike. 

Without another word said, he circled his arm around you and pulled you into him, and his lips were on yours in less than a second. He kissed you deeply, thoroughly. Still gentle, but passionately. He held you by the neck with his metal hand and you melted in his embrace. You kissed him back and you heard a little moan escape his lips - sending shivers down your spine and making your heart flutter, and other places throb. He teased you by biting down on your lip, making you gasp as his tongue soothed it right after. He pulled you closer, pressing you against him even more, kissing you deeper if that was possible. 

Your hands found themselves around his neck, your fingers sliding into his hair. He chuckled against your lips once he noticed that you were getting a little breathless. “Now tell me. What do I taste like, Princess?” He whispered against your lips, his voice sending shivers throughout your body. 

Your face felt really hot at his question and only then did you realize that he did in fact taste tangy, and sweet. “Apple.” 

He smiled against your lips before kissing you deeply again. “Told you. Now come on, trust me and let’s go. You can go home later tonight, or tomorrow morning. I’ll drop you wherever you wanna go. But right now, come with me.” 

Fuck it. 

“Yes.” You agreed. He gave you a big smile and tugged you along once again. You spoke up again. “And if you plan on killing me, just make it quick. Please. And don’t do weird things to me after I’m dead. Definitely do not feed me to animals, or humans for that matter. And don’t-”  

He cut you off with another kiss once you reached his bike. “Shh.” He laughed. “I won’t do any of that. Now come on, put these on.” He handed you his jacket from earlier and a helmet. 

You put those on quickly, not giving yourself the chance to overthink and prevent yourself from living a little. Once you climbed onto his bike, you realized that you would be pressed up against his back quite a bit. You didn’t mind it, it just made your heart race a little. His leather jacket felt nice and cool against your skin. 

“Hold on tight, Princess. It won’t be that long of a ride. But it’ll be great, trust me.” 

You nodded, and he chuckled at how adorable you looked with his huge, black helmet on. “Don’t kill us.” 

“I won’t, angel.” 

He kicked the engine to life. It roared so loudly that you couldn’t help but feel the adrenaline rush already. You giggled as he drove off, away from the pub, away from where you had left your car, away from where your chauffeur was supposed to pick you up. Away. 

You felt the wind against your bare legs and parts of your face. Cold, rushing - making you forget. You wrapped your arms tight around his waist and tipped your head a little, looking up at the saturated, pink sky, the stars had started showing faintly and suddenly you realized how much of your life you had missed while chasing the dreams your parents had assigned you to chase. 

Your friends would often talk of reckless nights back in university, but you never got to experience those because you were always busy studying to make sure your parents remained proud of you. 

But you were now. You were on a mean bike with a drop dead gorgeous man, riding down the highway while the sun set in the background. You felt alive. Slowly, you loosened your arms from around his waist, lifting them away from his body. You lifted your arms upwards, feeling your hands tear through the icy winds and you let out a genuine laugh. 

You noticed he slowed down a little when you did so. You let your arms up for some more time before you lowered them and wrapped them around his waist again. You inched closer and pressed your chest to his back, feeling his warmth seep through the many layers of clothing. 

“Thank you.” You whispered close to his ear. You knew he heard you even if he didn’t respond right away. 

“Wanna see the sunset better?” he asked, barely a second later. 

“Yes, please!” 

About ten minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of what seemed like a motel. You got off the bike once he came to a stop and he did too. He helped you take the helmet off and immediately grabbed your hand and ran towards the motel. 

You followed, giggling like a kid. “Where are we going?” 

“The roof. Come on, quick.” 

He answered and led both of you to what seemed to be some sort of fire escape. You climbed the metal stairs as fast as you could, not more than a few steps behind him until you reached the roof. It was filled with empty cans, cigarette butts and what not but it also gave you a view to die for. 

The sky had turned orangish by now, the sun was halfway down the horizon and you were mesmerized. You couldn’t look away. The sky darkened with each second, and you felt too much at the same time. You wanted to run. And never come back. You wanted bike rides everyday. You wanted to take the time and admire each sunset like this. You wanted to not worry about anything for a while. 

You felt strong arms wrap around you from behind. Then he placed his chin on your shoulder, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. “Don’t cry, angel.” Only then did you realize that you had a tear slowly falling down your cheek. 

You wiped it away and kept staring at the sky, watched it change colors. Your racing heart calmed down and a certain body heat wrapped around you, comforting you better than any blanket ever could. 

You turned in his arms, facing him once the sky turned a darker shade of blue when the sun had set completely. Another tear escaped your eye. He caught this one before it fell down your cheek. He looked down at you with a soft look in his eyes. It almost made your heart hurt. 

“I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to marry him. I don’t want any of it.” You whispered, keeping your eyes on his neck, admiring his tattoos through your teary eyes. You couldn’t tell what they were just yet, but they looked incredible on his tan skin. 

“Then don’t.” He answered, easily. “Don’t go home right away. Don’t marry him if you don’t want to. Stay.” He whispered the last bit, his metal arm reaching up to cup your face. “You might just be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” 

You giggled through the tears. “So this is where you bring all the girls?” You asked, your tone much more playful and teasing. 

He shook his head, laughing quietly. “I don’t. I don’t even live in this town. I have a family thing I need to attend in a day or two, so I was just passing by. I got a room for a couple of nights and boom, now here we are.” 

You nodded slowly. “Here we are.” You whispered back, your eyes flicking down to his lips a couple of times before looking back up into his eyes. 

He gave you a faint smile before leaning in for a kiss again, sighing once his lips touched yours like he had been craving it. You wrapped your arms around him, kissing him back. He kissed you recklessly, tugging and biting your lip, allowing his hands to slide up and down your side and he tilted your head to the side, stroking deeper into your mouth with his tongue. 

“Let’s go.” He murmured against your lips before kissing them again. 

“Where?” 

“Downstairs.” He kissed along your jaw until his mouth reached your ear. He gave you a kiss and you visibly trembled in his arms. “It’s my turn to see what you taste like.” He whispered, blunt and hot. 

Your face felt really hot, again. And when he pulled away, he had a handsome smirk on his pretty face. You got over the shyness and leaned in to kiss him again, aggressively. He chuckled into your mouth and pulled away before tugging you along as he took the stairs again, leading the two of you downstairs. 

The night was properly dark by the time you got to the front of the motel, both of you unable to keep your hands off each other, stopping multiple times to push one another against the wall and make out like there’s no tomorrow. 

There were not many people in sight. You could hear murmurs of muffled conversations coming from the restaurant which was attached to the motel, and a group of bikers were having a chat and smoking out in the parking lot but that was all. 

He led you to his room, unlocked the door and pulled you inside, both of you giggling and moaning as you kissed like horny teenagers. 

He pulled away again, “Oh and, my name’s Bucky. Remember that when you’re moaning later.” He whispered breathlessly against your lips as he slammed the door shut behind the two of you and wrapped his arms around you immediately, pulling you closer as though he needed you like he needed air. 

“I’m Y/N. You remember that too.” You moaned into the kiss and shrugged his leather jacket off as quickly as possible, eager to feel his skin on yours. You helped him take his shirt off, tossing it aside carelessly. You briefly let your hands roam around his torso, feeling each indent and firm muscle, your heart racing with each inch of skin you explored. 

He unzipped your dress while walking the two of you backwards, and by the time you made it to the queen sized bed you were both left in just your underwear. 

Bucky pushed you down on the bed, it was surprisingly soft and comfortable. He was on top of you not even a second later. You whined when he moved to kiss down your neck, nibbling on your skin and leaving dark red marks behind. You wrapped your legs around him, moving your hips against him slowly, grinding on him out of desperation and he chuckled against your skin. “Eager, are we?” he whispered and peppered your neck with soft kisses.

You moaned when his hands reached up to wrap around your breasts, fondling and teasing you through the lacy bra. He moaned against your skin as your fingers slid through his hair and tugged at his roots. 

“Bucky…” You dragged his name out, squirming under him as he took his sweet time kissing down your body. 

“Hmm?” He acted oblivious as he took your underwear off and tossed them on the floor as he settled himself in between your legs properly. His handsome, perfect face just inches away from your dripping core. 

You whined. “I want you, please…” 

He chuckled, kissing your inner thighs. “I know, angel. I know.” His warm breath fanned your sensitive skin as he spoke, and he noticed the way the goosebumps erupted all over your skin. He looked up at you for a quick second, scanning your face. 

You held your upper body up on your elbows by now, looking down at him with your bottom lip in between your teeth. He sent you a shameless wink before leaning in and kissing your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease. He teased your entrance with his tongue and your body felt hotter than earlier. 

A pressing need to release formed deep inside you as you felt his tongue stroked your most sensitive parts. “You taste better than I imagined…” Bucky chuckled as he looked up at you and found you with your eyes shut, head thrown back in pleasure. 

He grinned to himself, glad that he was the one bringing you such pleasure. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to him. He placed his mouth back on you again, and licked in between your wet folds, making you whine as he tasted you. His touch was slow, pleasurably agonizing. “Please…” you cried out, whimpering and begging. 

“Oh?” He taunted. “But I’m not quite done, so don’t you come yet angel.” He whispered against your wet skin. He kissed down all the way to your core, and gently bit your skin, making you hiss in pleasure. You could feel your arousal trickling out of you, one drop at a time. But Bucky didn’t let none of it go to waste, he leaned in and latched his mouth onto your core, sucking and licking and teasing you. Your arousal coated the lower half of his face, but he didn’t mind it one bit. 

He watched how you lost control under his touch; legs shaking as he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue. His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud. He had you coming undone all over his mouth in no time. 

“That’s a good girl… cum for me, Princess.” 

You were gasping for air in no time, your body squirming under his. Bucky kissed his way up your body again. He gave you a brief kiss on the lips then lifted off you for just a moment to get rid of his underwear and grab a condom from the drawer and put it on. Once done, he was hovering over your naked body again. 

Bucky’s body settled in between your legs comfortably again, and he leaned in to kiss you on the nose and then down to your lips. You smiled through the kiss as he pulled you even closer. You could feel his thick and hard cock resting against your thighs. He touched you wherever he could; letting his hands linger at your breasts and taking his sweet time; caressing and kissing your skin. His hands slipped in between your legs with ease; caressing your inner thighs as he went. 

You moaned into the kiss; his touch was slow, and gentle and enticing but also fiery. He ran his fingers up and down your folds, gathering and smearing your arousal around. He stared into your eyes, his face still dangerously close to yours. “You okay, angel?” he asked. His voice strained and deep, gravelly with lust.

“Yes… please, I need you.” You whispered against his mouth. You were burning up under him. 

Bucky pushed his tongue into past your lips while he pushed his erected cock past your tight entrance. You immediately lifted your legs up to wrap them around his waist like earlier. You moaned quietly as he pushed into you. He grunted once he filled you up entirely, and gave you a couple of seconds to adjust. He grabbed both your hands, laced your fingers together with his and pinned your interlaced hands down on the bed, above your head. 

He pulled out and pushed himself back into you, and watched in awe how you struggled to keep quiet. He lowered his face again, and leaned into your ear. “It’s okay, angel. Let me hear you.” He whispered, groaning by the end and let go of your hands to hold your body. 

He gripped your waist and pushed deeper into you. You heard him gasp and swear under his breath as he rocked into you. Your nails sank into his skin, around his shoulders; which you held onto for dear life as he pounded into you. He kissed you, bit your lips, kissed your open mouth, and shoved his tongue past your lips while he rammed into you; and you never once complained. 

Your legs trembled around his waist, he thrust deeper into you, and in the daze he was in, he mumbled right in your ear about how good you felt. The sound of his moans and grunts sent tingles dancing down your spine. 

Never in a million years did you ever think that you would find yourself in a motel room, having mind blowing sex with a hottie you met about an hour ago, but here you were. And you loved each moment. Your back arched off the bed as you felt a familiar warmth washing over you. Bucky growled and bit down on your shoulder to keep himself from making any loud noises while he fucked you. He was relentless. And you loved it.

“Cum for me, angel. Come all over my cock…” 

Your moans got louder as your walls clenched violently around him, your body shaking as the waves of pleasure washed over you. You gasped, trying to calm your racing heart but he wasn’t done with you yet. Bucky flipped you onto your stomach and pulled you onto your knees by your hips. He kissed the back of your neck.  

“More.” He growled against your skin and pushed your face down against the pillows, making your ass stick out for him. He gripped each side of your hips, tightly. He pushed his cock into you without a word said; earning a sinful moan out of you. He groaned and grunted as he filled you up again; your butt cheeks pressing into his pelvic bone as he pounded into you.

You moaned out loud at the new sensation of him rocking into you from behind. Bucky’s hand found its way to your front and he pressed the palm of his hand against your lower abdomen. He liked the rush of excitement which coursed through him each time he felt his cock deep within you.

You felt him quicken his pace. “Fuck…” he moaned. 

You tightened around him, and he groaned, pounding into you; growling and mumbling swear words under his breath. You felt the pressure in between your hips grow until you could barely hold back anymore. His other hand reached around and toyed with your folds; his fingers furiously rubbed the skin around your clit and made you tremble and whimper again. 

“Bucky… please,” You moaned, craving more and more of him.

With a few more strokes of his thick cock, you felt his thrust becoming irregular, and felt his cock throb against your walls. You tightened around him, feeling the burning hot need to cum grow hotter and hotter inside you until it exploded. You came with a loud moan, gushing all around him. Bucky came right after you; buried deep within you – growling and mumbling swear words under his breath. 

His soft kisses are the last thing you remember feeling before you snuggled up to his warm body under the sheets and drifted off to sleep without a single care in the world for the first time in a long time. 

--- 

You laid your head on his bare chest, a thin white sheet barely covering either of you properly. The sun was coming up and you could tell that your phone would be blowing up by now if you hadn’t turned it off the night before. You quickly chased those thoughts away, you didn’t want to think about anyone this morning. 

Just Bucky. 

You lifted your head up slowly so as not to disturb him but when you looked up you found him staring down at you with a soft smile on his face. “Hi.” You whispered, your voice hoarse and strained. 

He chuckled, pushing some of your hair out of your face. “Hey angel. Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” He asked, concern written all over his face for a moment. 

You shook your head. “I’m okay.” You lowered your head again, placing your ear right on top of his heart. You let out a sigh. You knew you wouldn’t be able to escape your family forever and your father will track you down and you would have to explain yourself, possibly even marry whoever they ask you to but this right now, last night and this morning - you would cherish that forever. 

You lazily ran your fingers up and down Bucky’s tattooed arm wishing for a different reality, while he played with your hair. You gently traced the lines and curves of ink on his skin, some were hard to decipher because they overlapped with the others. Some words you could make out, some you couldn’t. A few of the discreet, smaller tattoos looked like he had done them himself, and their messiness made you giggle. Like the poorly done smiley face on the inside of his wrist, and the fading initials next to them: j.b.b. 

You froze. Hang on… 

“Bucky?” You felt like you would explode with the amount of emotions and thoughts which rushed inside your head. 

“Yes Princess?” You could hear the sleep in his voice. 

“What’s your last name?” You asked, anticipation building inside of you and almost choking you. It couldn’t be… could it? 

“Barnes. Why?” He answered, looking down at you with confusion all over his face meanwhile you looked like you had seen a ghost. 

You closed your eyes and let out a shaky breath. “Let me guess, your real name is James. And your father has a very close friend and fellow businessman named Y/L/N?” 

He furrowed his eyebrows at you. “Yes. How did you-,”

You got up and straddled him, pinning him down under you. He didn’t mind the nudity, quite the contrary actually. “Bucky! You’re the guy I’m supposed to marry! You’re James Buchanan Barnes!” You went on to tell him your full name and you watched how the realization hit him just as hard as it hit you. 

“Oh…” His smirk faded for a moment as he processed what you had just said, before it formed again. “Well in that case…” He flipped the two of you around and pinned you down under him just like he had last night. “It’s nice to finally meet you, future wife.” He leaned in for another kiss. 

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #biker!bucky #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes

[buckyownsmylife]

Animal of the Night - Tom Hardy smut

The one where you decided to tempt Tom by wearing a sexy Venom costume.

Warnings: smut, jealousy, possessiveness, daddy kink, oral sex (m), spanking, dirty talk, name-calling, choking

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: this was requested by the lovely @jbreenr​ a while back and it’s finally here 😎

Tom’s P.O.V.

I’d been casually watching the door, waiting for her to arrive like it was no big deal, but it absolutely was. I’d been dying to see her ever since filming wrapped, but because there was still so much to be done until I could go back home and she was knees deep in some work herself, we’d agreed that we’d meet at this off-season Halloween party one of our friends was throwing. Even though I much preferred to be locked inside a room with her all night.

“Hey, man! What you’ve been up to?” I got distracted as the host of the night finally approached me to make some light conversation. It had been a while since we had the opportunity to chat - I’d been spending all my time in the city at her apartment or mine, consequently ignoring our group of friends as I’d much rather be buried deep inside of her, but I had to admit that I did miss the guys.

Not enough to stop me from wishing I was alone with her, though.

“Yeah, sorry I’ve been so absent. You know… work. What have you been up to?” I accepted the beer he was offering as well as the hug, throwing one last glance at the door before turning my body to fully concentrate on him.

“Just the usual. Work hard and play hard. Not a lot going on at the moment.” I nodded, taking a swig of the beer before I realized I should probably ask about the rest of the gang.

“What about everyone else? Is something different going on?” Tyler seemed to think for a moment - it’s never too easy to come up with stuff to talk about when put at the spot, I should know that - but then his eyebrows shot up and a big smile opened on his face, clear indications that he had thought of something interesting.

“Yeah! I don’t know if you’ve heard this already, I know you two are kinda close, but with you being away… Apparently, Y/N has a boyfriend.” My heart sank to the bottom of my stomach at that, panic clawing my insides and begging me to start yelling.

How could she start dating and not tell me about it? Sure, she was free to find a boyfriend, what we had wasn’t exactly official, and consequently, not exclusive, but I thought I deserved at least some update when she found someone to replace me.

The thought of her being with anyone else burned me to the core, and I held the bottle of beer so tightly I was surprised it didn’t break. Grinding my teeth so Tyler wouldn’t realize there was something wrong, I asked as monotonously as I could, “Oh, really? Who’s the guy?” But all I got was a shrug.

“We don’t know, she hasn’t introduced him to anyone yet. We just assume that’s the case because she’s been skipping all of our meetings but when she does come, she giggles at her phone all the time.”

She used to do that with me. When we were all out and I’d text her something I couldn’t say out loud. I always found it adorable, and the idea of her giggling for someone else’s stupid jokes almost made me puke on the spot.

“It’s no wonder she’s been keeping him hidden, really,” Tyler continued, completely oblivious to what I was going through. “She always did like the bad boy types.”

That comment made me frown, thinking back on her exes. In all the time that we had known each other, she had only had a handful of boyfriends - but maybe those were just the ones she introduced me to. The only thing that they seemed to have in common was their absolute inability to treat her how she deserved to be treated, so while I didn’t necessarily think that she had a type, if there was one way to define them, it would definitely be as “bad”.

“Mind if I join you, boys?” A seductive and familiar voice came from behind me, instinctively making me stand up straighter before turning around.

“Oh, fuck…” I heard Tyler comment at the same time that I took in her costume, my eyebrows shooting up as he continued, “You look fucking hot!” and I spilled out, “What the hell are you wearing?”

Y/N frowned, looking down at her own clothing like she had honestly forgotten what it was that she was dressed into - a sexy, slutty version of my venom character, barely recognizable with the lack of fabric.

“I’m venom!” She excitedly exclaimed, looking up at me again with a huge grin. “I thought you’d be the first to recognize it. What kind of an actor are you, really?”

Tyler chuckled behind us, but I could only focus on the woman looking up at me, provoking all sort of conflicting feelings to course through my body. There was jealousy and longing, desire and possessiveness. All I knew was that I needed to get her in a secluded environment in the next five minutes, or I would publicly explode.

“Come here with me, will ya?” I took her by the elbow, effortlessly moving us through the crowd of our drunk friends until I found an empty room I could shove her in, paying no attention to Tyler’s low whistle as we left him behind.

Once the door was safely closed, I turned around to stare down at her, really taking in her outfit. “I thought you knew better than to tease me like this,” I chastised, clicking my tongue as a smirk painted my lips at seeing her shiver when my voice dropped. Boyfriend or no boyfriend, I could still pull a reaction from her.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“We have quite a lot of things to discuss, little girl…” I bit my lower lip in an attempt to reel myself in and remain motionless, instead of just jumping on the man I was so desperate to feel up.

It’d been way too fucking long. Any time apart from Tom was already hard on me, but ever since we started fucking, any night I had to spend without his gorgeous body hovering over mine was particularly painful to me.

Which is why I decided to wear this “sexy” Venom costume. Even though he offered to meet me back in my place, I knew he missed his friends - our friends - and this way, we could get everything we wanted.

I just had to make his resolve crack so he’d pull me into the nearest bedroom and bang me five ways into tomorrow, and later we’d rejoin the party and mingle again.

By the way my night had been going, I could see I was very close to getting what I wanted.

Tilting my head to the side, the picture-perfect idea of the innocent little girl he always liked to treat me as, I asked, “What’s wrong, daddy?”

Tom’s reaction was… surprising. His mouth fell open, his fists curled and he stood there watching me until suddenly he was all over me, pulling me to stand on my tiptoes so our lips could connect.

I moaned into the kiss, briefly forgetting about his odd behavior as the familiar taste of him invaded my mouth. “God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he groaned when we parted, leaving me almost dizzy with desire as I rapidly blinked a few times to be able to focus on him once more.

“What would your boyfriend think about you being locked up in a bedroom with me, wearing this, huh, sweetheart?” And now I was back to confused. What the hell was he talking about?

“Boyfriend?” I asked, pushing him away just enough to look him in the eye. Tom’s expression was inscrutable as he stared down at me with that fire in his eyes that never failed to make me shiver.

“Yes, boyfriend. Tyler told me all about it,” he commented, shrugging as if it was no big deal, yet his fingers pressed tightly against my hips, keeping me close to him. The anger was clear in every single one of his features.

I could read between the lines. I knew Tom like the back of my hand, through the years of friendship and now… whatever the hell this was. The hint of possessiveness was there, just threatening to take over, and my God was I desperate to see how it would play out.

“What did Tyler say?” I asked, looking up at him from under my eyelashes as I tried not to let my smile grow, so he wouldn’t catch up onto what was happening earlier than I wanted him to.

“That you’ve been skipping outings and whenever you do go, you’re always staring at your phone and giggling.” I bit my lip so I wouldn’t giggle right then, turning away from him in the hopes of hiding my expression.

When I turned around once more, his eyebrows were raised. It was clear he wanted an explanation, so I cleared my throat and tried to speak as seriously as I was able to do at that moment.

“Oh, right…” I didn’t deny it, fiddling with some random knick knacks on the bedside table. “You mean… like I do when I’m talking to you?”

Looking at him over my shoulder, I watched as realization suddenly hit, and that’s when I couldn’t control myself anymore. I dropped to my knees before him, mouth watering just at the prospect of having that delicious cock of his deep in my throat, filling my mouth.

A beautiful blush spread over his chest as he panted over me, a sign of just how affected he was, with his lustful eyes watching my every movement when I started to suck on his member.

“What about the costume?” He asked, making me giggle when I pulled back to answer, but kept my hands working his cock, keeping him hard and ready for me.

“I just wanted to tempt you.” A growl escaped his chest, making me even wetter just as he reached for my hair and pulled me back to my feet.

“You should have reconsidered if you wanted my dick anywhere near you.” I whined when I realized what he meant. Even though I loved his punishments, I was aching for his cock, and he was right - I wanted it now. So maybe I should have thought twice before looking for this slutty venom costume just so I could rile him up. “Now I’m gonna have to spank the shit out of you.”

He bent me over the bed, pushing the cheap fabric of my clothing to my stomach and exposing my naked pussy to his gaze. “You’re such a whore,” he chuckled when he realized I had forgone any type of underwear, and I found myself rubbing my thighs to get some relief from hearing him call me names.

Should I feel bad that it got me so hot? Oh, well. There was really nothing I could do about it except hope he would take care of me eventually.

Tom’s P.O.V.

Witnessing her pleasure in being humiliated like this only added to my frustration. She really was the perfect woman for me, but instead of ravishing her like I wished I could do, I’d have to entertain myself with her delectable ass, all ‘cause she decided to behave like a slut to catch my attention.

“You look so delicious, darling,” I teased her by running my fingers over her pussy lips, gathering some of the nectar already threatening to spill from there. “It’s a shame you misbehaved.”

I let my hand fall over her right cheek then, startling her so I could hear her yelp. I knew she got off on the pain - it was another thing that I loved about her - but it wouldn’t be half as fun if she didn’t pretend this truly was a punishment, huh?

“Can’t reward that kind of teasing,” I kept admonishing her, slowly inserting a finger into her hole, frustrating the both of us further just so I could have her trembling in anticipation, trying to guess what type of touch I’d grant her next.

But I needed to get this show on the road so I could fuck her properly, so abandoning all type of play, I laid slap after slap on her ass, watching it bounce back after each spank, hearing her moans before they were drowned by the sounds of the party downstairs.

“Daddy!” She moaned, clinging to my thigh, making me even harder inside my jeans. She really did love getting her ass spanked, and I loved her ass, so I’d take any opportunity to get my hands on it.

“You know how long I’ve been dreaming of burying myself deep inside this pussy, little girl? Do you?” I snarled, hearing her whimpers like they were music to my ears. “And then you pull shit like this, and how the fuck am I supposed to keep myself together long enough to tame your bratty ass?”

Her thighs began to tremble, fingernails biting on the skin of my thigh. I knew what this meant, so I immediately stopped spanking her, pulling her by her hair so I could whisper in her ear, “I know you’re a whore, but no cumming before I have my dick inside of you, got it?”

She cried out at the authoritative tone in my voice, but I knew her well enough by now to know that she wasn’t done testing me yet. “You can’t control my orgasm,” she dared to fight me. “You don’t own me. I’m not yours.”

I clutched her throat, cutting off her air so I wouldn’t have to listen to any more of her shit.

“Shut. Up.” Her eyes were wide when I threw her on the bed, pulling her by the ankles so her legs were dangling off of it, keeping her on her stomach as I unbuckled my belt.

“You’re such a fucking brat,” I complained as I climbed up her body and forced her legs open as wide as they could go, considering the position, and slid home. I knew it wouldn’t hurt her because she was already dripping, but I also knew she’d feel the stretch from being without me for so long.

Call me sentimental, but I didn’t feel like I had to ask to know she hadn’t been with anyone else, considering our previous conversation.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“You didn’t say shit like that when I had you over my lap, screaming for your daddy, huh?” He taunted, hand pulling on my hair once more as the other held my hips down, granting him the leverage he needed to fuck me against the mattress. “Or when I fucked you so hard that you couldn’t walk without feeling me for a week.”

That was a fun day. Memories of our last time together rushed through me, adding to my arousal, especially once I remembered how smug he was when I told him about my difficulties to walk during our weekly calls.

It was good to know he’d thought about it so much that it still lived in his mind, all those months later.

“Should have known I’ve owned you ever since I shoved my cock inside this tight little pussy, sweetheart.” I shivered when he whispered the warning against my ear, voice low and seductive like that night he took me in a bar’s bathroom before taking me home. It’d been the culmination of years of sexual frustration and dirty dreams, and I still thought about it every time I had to get myself off.

“How did you think this would go?” He questioned, incredulity clear in his tone. “Did you think you could fuck me until you were tired and then I’d let you go find a little boy toy you could control? Oh, no, darling.”

“There’s no going back anymore, little girl.” The threat had me coming around him, eyes rolling to the back of my head as the entire moment became too much for my poor hungry body to handle.

I’d always been known for biting off more than I could chew, but honestly, I’d rather die than waste the opportunity to be owned like this by Tom fucking Hardy.

“I’m not gonna leave this pussy, sweetheart,” he continued, like he was honestly telling me something that I didn’t want to happen. “Ever.” To drive his point home, he kept fucking me through my orgasm, pulling on my hair as my moans became whimpers and my hands bunched up the sheets of a stranger’s bed.

“It’s mine now.” With that, he pulled me back enough that he could meet my gaze, allowing me to witness him panting with his own pleasure, eyes darkened as he took in how my body folded to abide by his wishes. “You’re mine,” he announced, such firmness in his tone that any doubt that could have lived inside of me instantly disappeared.

I knew this wasn’t just dirty talk anymore. He was telling me the truth - he was warning me of a fact, now. My body belonged to him.

Still, I guess even he needed to be reassured from time to time, because the next thing to fall from his lips was a plead, “Tell me that you want me.” His cock kept plunging in and out of my cavern, caressing my oversensitive walls in that way I loved so much. “Say that you are mine.”

I didn’t even hesitate before granting him exactly what he wanted.

“I’m yours, daddy, all yours!” I cried out, entire body trembling underneath his,  desperate to make sure he heard me so he wouldn’t keep me away from my second orgasm of the night. “Oh, God!” I pleaded, fucking myself back against him. “Please don’t stop, daddy! Please!

Tom’s P.O.V.

“I’m not gonna stop, darling,” I assured her, hands caressing her back in an effort to calm her down. “Not until I feel you clenching around me.” A groan escaped me when I felt her do just that, and I didn’t know if it was on purpose or if another orgasm had hit her.

“Why would I ever stop fucking you?” I was babbling now, I knew - delirious with my own pleasure, trying to get her to cum one last time before me so she could milk my orgasm in that way only she knew how. “Best fucking pussy I ever fucked, would never leave you if I could.”

A strangled cry escaped her, right when blinding white bliss took over my sight and I pulled out just in time to stroke my release over her ass, grunting in the relief that followed.

“Fuck, I love you,” I whispered to the silence of the room before she turned around from underneath me, unworried about dirtying up the bed that didn’t belong to either of us.

Pulling me by my shirt, she whispered against my lips, “I love you more, daddy.”

#my fics #tom hardy smut #tom hardy #smut #tom hardy request #my requests #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy reader #tom hardy reader insert #tom hardy reader inserts

[mypoisonedvine]

Making Ends Meet | dark!Mandalorian x reader

summary: you’re just a simple woman trying to make your way in the universe, with the universe’s oldest profession.  unfortunately for you, a new customer doesn’t plan on going easy on you.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: smut (dub con), kidnapping (?? kinda), prostitution, rough sex, pain kink, lots and lots of degradation, ooc mando being a meanie

please do not read if this content would be triggering or upsetting for you, dark fics aren’t for everyone and it is your responsibility to manage your own content consumption

If you were going to have any hope of making rent this month, you needed to book someone tonight— and not a cheapskate who’d try to stiff you after he’d already stiffed you, no, you needed a big spender, a high roller.  You needed somebody who had extra credits to throw around and wore it on his sleeve.

You needed a guy like the one who had just walked in— with beskar on his sleeve.  That’ll do quite nicely, you thought to yourself as you watched the Mandalorian cross the room to talk to the bartender.  

Seemed like he was here on business, unfortunately, from the way he didn’t even venture a glance at you or any of the other women skulking about; but then again, you couldn’t be entirely sure where he was looking with that big helmet covering his face.  It might not be the easiest sell, but you were determined to get this guy for the night— and, more importantly, his money.

Walking up to the bar with your best sultry saunter, you leaned in beside him and smiled as he turned his head to look at you.  "Hey," you purred.  "Haven't seen you around before.  We don't get a lot of new faces around here… even when they're hidden."

He didn't say anything, which was a little concerning, but his head tilted down a bit as if he was looking at your body, which was a good sign.

“What brings you to Tatooine, hm?  Business…” you trailed off as you ghosted your fingertips over his armor-clad forearm, “or pleasure?”

“Business is my pleasure,” he informed you sternly.

“And pleasure is my business,” you countered with a smirk.  Before you could say anything else, the bartender returned with a sack in his palm that he tossed into the Mandalorian’s hands, something metallic jingling inside.

“For a job well done,” he explained with a crooked, toothy smile, “as promised.”

“Payday, huh?” you noticed, your tongue darting out to wet your lips.  “Never comes often enough, amirite?”

Your quip was met with tense silence as he slipped the bag into a sack at his waist.  He turned to leave, but you reached out for his shoulder and stopped him.  

“Wait,” you requested, desperation starting to taint your tone of voice.  He spun and faced you again, and you tried to keep your body language relaxed and sensual in spite of your stress.  “What are you gonna spend all that on?”

“My ship,” he decided after a quick moment.

“Why not spend it on yourself?  You must be tired after working a long, hard day,” you sighed sympathetically, stepping a little closer.  “Why don’t you stay a bit longer and take a moment to relax?”

It didn’t seem like he knew what to do with that, and you motioned to a wide, cushioned chair nearby.  Amazingly, it worked; he walked to the chair with that swagger of his, the blaster at his hip suddenly so much more obvious with the way it swung with every step.  As soon as he sat down, you put a leg up beside him, straddling him slightly but leaving enough space to (hopefully) have him wanting more.

“You must be getting hot under there,” you smiled, making sure the double entendre was obvious.

“Maybe I am,” he shrugged.

“All this heavy armor... does it get uncomfortable?”

“I’m comfortable,” he denied.

“Good,” you purred before biting down on your lip as you rubbed his chest— or, rather, his chestplate.  “You know, I’ve heard that Mandalorians are even harder underneath the steel.”

He paused a little before he answered.  “Only in a few key places,” he finally replied, his gloved hand reaching to brush over your thigh.  You grinned, knowing you finally had him.

“Why don’t you come to my room and show me?” you suggested.

“I imagine your time isn’t free,” he observed.

“Fifty credits for an hour, or a hundred for the whole night,” you enumerated.

“That’s a little steep,” he noted with a tone of irritation.

“It’s my price,” you shrugged, “take it or leave it.”

“I’ll leave it,” he decided, shoving you back and standing up to leave.

“No, wait,” you blurted out, “eighty for the night.”

“I don’t have all night,” he informed you sternly.  “Twenty for the hour.”

“Twenty?!” you squawked.  “What kind of girl do you take me for?”

He grabbed your wrist tightly, suddenly, and pulled you into him.  “A whore,” he answered with a rough growl, “and apparently not as cheap as you look.”

You swallowed dryly, irritated by his attitude but desperate for the cash you knew he had.  “How often do you come through Mos Eisley?” you asked quietly.

“As rarely as I can manage,” he replied.

“If you pay a hundred now, I’ll be here every time you come in, for as long as you need,” you offered.  “Standing order, permanently.”

It was difficult to negotiate with someone whose face you couldn’t see: you weren’t sure if the silence was him considering it, or just watching you squirm in his grasp for fun.  

“A hundred,” he repeated slowly, “for whatever I want.”

“Whatever you want,” you nodded quickly.

“Whenever I want,” he added.

“Whenever you want.”

He let go of your wrist and you stumbled back, rubbing the sore skin with your other hand.  “Show me to your room,” he requested suddenly.

You led him back behind a few tattered curtains, past the hall and up the stairs to your cramped apartment.  It wasn't much, but the red silk draped everywhere and the incense burning in the corner certainly set the mood for the work you did.  Your door slid shut automatically behind him, and normally this is the part where he’d kiss you or you’d kiss him, but that was sort of impossible in his current state.  With an awkward pause, you waited for him to undress.

“Take off your clothes,” he instructed instead— and it was even more dominant than you expected, but you were happy to oblige as you untied the strip of fabric keeping your flowy tunic together, letting it fall off of your shoulders and onto the floor.  You didn’t have anything else on, just for the sake of simplicity, and he said nothing as he stepped forward until he was just inches away from you.

He quickly disposed of his gloves to touch you with his bare hands; his rough, warm skin over your waist and hips and breasts was a strong contrast to the worn leather, and even moreso to the hard, cold beskar.  His skin was tan, especially considering that it rarely saw the sun, and you let yourself imagine what the rest of him would look like based on that long with the subtle dusting of dark hair that extended from his arms.  Of course, in your mind, he was stunningly gorgeous, because it was more fun for you that way.  The way he spun you around quickly and forced you to bend over the edge of your bed made you realize he wasn’t as interested in your fun, though.

You yelped a little at the unexpected force, and again when he slapped your ass out of nowhere.  

“You’d better make it worth my while, after I paid a hundred credits,” he grunted.

“Of course,” you agreed quickly, looking back to see him slipping to fingers underneath the edge of his helmet.

“Don’t turn around,” he growled.  “Don’t look back.”

“Okay,” you nodded nervously as you whipped your head back to face in front of you, staring diligently at the dark red comforter beneath you, “I— I won’t.”

You heard the rustle of clothing and a sigh of relief— noticeably one not modulated through the helmet speaker.  Unceremoniously, his helmet was tossed down onto the bed beside you, bouncing and rolling a bit before it found purchase on your quilt.

Next must have been his trousers, as you heard his heavily-equipped belt fall to the floor just before the subtle little grunt you’d come to know as the sure sign that a man had freed a throbbing cock from the confines of his trousers.  He roughly kicked your legs apart, grabbing your hips and using them to hold you up as he started to grind his bare cock against your slickened folds.  You could tell by the way his shaft spread your lips that you had no chance of taking him— he was too thick, you couldn't even tell how long he was yet but he was definitely too thick.

He must have realized something similar, because he pushed you forward a bit; you realized he was looking down at your pussy, which made your face burn with embarrassment.

"Get yourself wet for me," he instructed firmly.  

You didn't think you would ever be able to get wet enough to fit him.  "How?" you asked.

"I don't care how, just do it.  You have thirty seconds."

You gasped a bit but shoved your hand between your legs and frantically rubbed your clit— it didn't really feel that good, with the pressure and fear overwhelming your senses instead of pleasure.  And he didn't make it any easier on you by literally counting each second.  You got a bit wetter, sure, and you'd already been turned on from earlier, but it was still not gonna do you much good against the monster he intended on putting inside you at any moment.

"Fifteen," he continued counting, his voice dropping so much deeper all of a sudden.  "Fourteen."

Halfway out of time already and you weren't that much more wet than when you started.  Your mind was racing with thoughts of everything sexy you could manage to conjure— his voice did help, the deep timbre reverberating right up your spine as anxious fear started to blend in with forced arousal.  You tried to focus on the ways that being fucked by a faceless, mysterious stranger was sexy, rather than the ways it was terrifying.

"Ten," he counted, his voice changing as you heard him smile— you weren't sure how you could hear it, but you could.  "There you go, I can see it now."

You whimpered a little, the sound catching in your throat as fingers suddenly teased your entrance, not quite pushing in but threatening to.  As they swirled around your folds, a lewd wet sound filled the air, mixing in with your heavy breathing and his dark chuckle.

"You hear that?" he asked, and you nodded quickly.  "Just a few seconds left, make them count."

Rubbing faster, you felt your hips start to rock of their own volition, similarly to the way your walls were clenching around nothing in search of being filled.  

"Three, two, one," he finished as you felt the thick head of his cock start to push against you.  You dropped your hand, knowing you'd need both to stabilize yourself.  "You want it?" he asked roughly.

"Yes," you answered, your voice coming out weaker than expected.

"Beg for it," he instructed coldly.

"Put your cock in me, please—" was all you could get out before the words stopped in your throat as he suddenly pushed in.  You were barely processing the first inch as he barreled past your resistance to shove the next few in.  It already felt like you would run out of room inside your body before he ran out of cock.

"F-fuck," you hissed, "slow down.  You're too big."  You hoped maybe he'd take pity on you if you phrased it as a compliment.  You were wrong.

"You're a whore," he reminded you, "can't you take it?  It's all you're good for, anyways."

That got you to shut your mouth as he thrust himself completely into you, finding the end of you easily with the head of his cock while your hands clutched the bedsheets for dear life.  You winced but managed to suppress a cry as he started to fuck you, not quite fast yet but so much deeper than your brain could process.  "Ffffuu-uuck," you stammered, the sting starting to fade but the overwhelming pressure never really letting up.

"How's it feel?" he asked, almost sounding like he could moan but holding back.  "Don't lie."

You realized, then, that he didn't want you to fake pleasure like most clients did— he wanted to see your pain, and know he caused it.  He enjoyed hurting you.  You swallowed the lump in your throat and whimpered your honest reply: "Hurts."

"Good."

His balls slapping against your clit only added to the overwhelming sensations you were trying so hard to ignore, pain and pleasure becoming indistinguishable all of a sudden.  You could tell your walls were clamping down on him as pressure built in your gut and threatened to push past the point of no return.  Your moan was so much louder than you expected it to be, broken and guttural and animalistic. 

He pulled your hair roughly, making you yelp.  “That’s right,” he instructed through his teeth, “fuckin’ scream for it.”

“Fuck!” you sobbed loudly.  

He leaned forward and it felt like his body would surround yours, somehow, especially when he reached down to roughly grope one breast and then another.  He never stopped thrusting through it all, even when his head fell exhaustedly between your shoulder blades— it was so odd to be able to feel his forehead and hair on your skin but have no idea what his face looked like at all.

The telltale signs of orgasm were arriving in your body— your thighs quivered, your voice cracked, your walls and clit throbbed with need.  It felt like you could read every detail of his cock inside your silky wet heat, like the ridge of his leaking head was rubbing up against your swollen g-spot with every thrust.  You felt as if being so full of him had forced you to vacate your mind, too, to accommodate his size— as if that were possible.  

Either he sensed your peak approaching as well, or he just had convenient timing.  "Wanna feel you come around it," he grunted.  "Can you come for me?  Or are you completely useless?"

“‘M close,” you warned him as your answer, shame sending a shiver up your spine even though you felt guilty for it.

“Then come,” he ordered, “right fuckin’ now.”

It was odd how that actually did push you over the edge, his brutal thrusts and degrading words creating a perfect storm inside you as the friction became too much to bear.  You sobbed as it wracked through you, arching your back absent-mindedly, clenching your legs together as best you could with his legs in between them.  He didn’t stop fucking you through it, which meant that the sensation built to the point of ‘too much’ extremely quickly as your attempts at begging for mercy were lost to breathless moans.  Overwhelmed, your body collapsed onto the bed limply, your hips only staying up because he held them up, like your weight was nothing to him at all.

"Yeah, just like that,” he taunted, “fuckin' come on my cock, fuck— you're just a dumb slut, huh?  You love getting fucked like the desperate, needy fucktoy you are, is that it?"

"Y-yes," you whined weakly, cheeks burning at the feeling of him using your body— or maybe it was from the head rush caused by the afterglow of your orgasm. 

"You like it when it hurts,” he posited.  “You want me to hurt you."

"Yes— don't stop, please…" you whimpered, quiet but definitely loud enough for him to hear.

“Not gonna stop,” he promised, “‘til you’re full of my come.”

“Fuck,” you groaned, voice sounding hoarse and thin.  It had been a while since you lost your voice because of a session… and since you had walked funny for a few days afterwards.  This one was definitely going to do both.

As his hips started to slam harder and faster into yours, you really hoped it was a sign that he was close; his raspy groans made you sure of it, though.  You could feel his cock swelling and flexing, incredibly, and it made you a little light-headed but it made your overstimulated walls throb around him as well.

With one deep, exhausted growl from the man behind you, a warmth began to spread through you from the inside out.  When he released his grip on your hips, you fell onto the bed with a sigh and a thud.  A hand appeared in your peripheral vision to snatch the helmet off of your bed, and it only took him a few moments to stuff his softening cock back into his trousers and magically be dressed again.  Funny how he looked exactly the same as he had half an hour ago, meanwhile you were confident you looked totally fucked-out and fucked-up.

“You’re a good fuck,” he offered a monotone compliment as he pulled on his gloves, staring down at you as you slipped your robe back on and tried to ignore the warm sticky feeling between your legs.

“You’re… intense,” you replied, chuckling a little.  “Guess I’ll see you around, then.”

He didn’t respond, or leave, but just stood there looking at you for a minute as you stood up and adjusted yourself, trying not to limp noticeably because you figured he didn’t need any more ego.  “‘Whenever I want’ only applies when I’m on this planet,” he observed suddenly, interrupting the silence, “which I try not to be.”

“You can come around as often as you like,” you explained.  You froze when he appeared behind you, reaching his arms out and caging you in against the wall the second you'd turned to face him.

“But wouldn’t it be so much more cost-effective if you were with me all the time?  On my ship?”

You whimpered a little as he leaned in closer, and you felt his gaze on you through the dark visor of his helmet even though you couldn’t see it.  “That… that wasn’t the deal,” you whispered nervously.

“The deal’s changed,” he growled, ignoring your yelps of pain as he manhandled you and pinned you to the wall by your neck before you could even try to fight back.  “Whatever I want, whenever I want,” he growled, “that’s what you said.  I’ll hold you to that.”

The leather gloves creaked softly as he tightened his grip on the sides of your neck, forcing your lips to fall into a useless gasp for air.  Your hands reached out to claw at his chest, a silent plea for release, but he wasn’t having it.  

“Whatever you want,” you barely managed to croak out as your vision started to go dark.  “Please, Mando…”

“Whenever I want?”

“Whenever, please,” you cried, tears stinging your eyes.  He let go, finally, and you crumpled at his feet.  Somehow, you’d managed to sell yourself into slavery— for a measly hundred credits.  This whole thing had begun with you needing to make rent, and it ended with you realizing you wouldn’t return to your apartment again at all.  

He didn't need to shackle or bind you to make you follow him to his ship; his power over you was nauseatingly effortless, but you weren't about to try to run from an unhinged warrior like him.  

You'd always wanted to leave Tatooine and explore the galaxy… this wasn't exactly how you'd imagined doing it, as a Mandalorian's whore, but there were worse fates.  Like being a Mandalorian's target.  And you planned on doing whatever he wanted you to if it meant avoiding that.

#dark!mandalorian #dark!mandalorian smut #dark!din djarin smut #the mandalorian dark fic #dark!din djarin x reader #dark!din djarin x y/n #dark!din djarin x you #the mandalorian x y/n #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you

[rosiehunterwolf]

Why Skybound's Ending Works

And why it was actually, to contrary belief of some of the fandom, a good season.

So I read this book a while ago. It was a good book, an enjoyable read, but I remember being really disappointed in the ending. Today I was looking through my bookshelf and I found it again, which made me start thinking about why, exactly, I didn't like it.

While there were a few different gripes I had with it, the main point came down to the fact that at the end of the book, after the climax had been resolved, the main character still wasn't happy, and she found a way to reverse time so that the whole incident never happened.

Sounds familiar, right?

I've never been a big fan of stories that basically undo everything at the end. I feel like it's a cheap ending and gets the main character out of learning his or her lesson, and often leaves me as a reader (or viewer in the case of a show/movie) with a sense of unfulfillment. I know I'm not the only one who feels this way, as this is the biggest complaint I've seen about Skybound in the fandom.

So, if this is true, why don't I feel the same kind of dissatisfaction with Skybound that I do with this book?

My first thoughts were maybe that because the book is a standalone part. Ninjago is a long show, now spanning 15 seasons (12 at the time I first was watching Skybound) and having one season that was a dud wouldn't upset me that much because there were so many. But if this were true, I would feel disappointment when I thought about Skybound in particular, not Ninjago as a whole, right? But I didn't. I still genuinely enjoyed the season, and I didn't feel scammed by the ending at all.

Upon further depth, I realized that it was the execution of this time-reverse.

The way the book I read worked, was that the main conflict had already been resolved, and peace had been declared, but the main character wasn't happy in her situation. She realized this wasn't what she wanted, and then time was reversed. Most media which undoes the plot goes something along this route, in my experience.

As a writer and reader, let me tell you that having another conflict after the main conflict just doesn't work. The main climax is supposed to build tension, put the consumers on the edge of their seats, and then have a short resolution period at the end to satisfy the consumers, but not stretch it out for any longer than necessary, because the climax was what we were all here for. Having another plot afterwards, even if it is internal, like this one was, takes away from the main climax, and suddenly it doesn't feel very engaging anymore. Everything throughout the book/show/movie is building up to the climax, and once that is over, it's time for the story to be done. Additional plots following the climax are what sequels are for.

Skybound doesn't do this. Instead of having more plot after the conclusion (which usually leads into the time reverse), it makes the time reverse INTO the climax.

The plot is building as Jay and the others prepare to kill Nadakhan. But when the plan goes awry, and now Nya is hit with the poison too, Jay's focus switches to her. This isn't a new climax, it's just a switch of focus as suddenly there are larger priorities to fix. A shift of focus, done right, can make things even more intense because now there are two threats- in this case, stopping Nadakhan, and saving Nya from death.

Jay's wish is all he has left. As soon as the venom wears off, Nadakhan will be all-powerful again. They are running out of resources, of ways to fight him. Jay has to end him now, or they lose against Nadakhan, possibly forever.

But he's not going to sacrifice Nya for this either. As we know, Nadakhan twists the wishes in anyway he can to benefit him, so Jay needs to make his wish as simple and straightforward as possible. He can't save Nya and stop Nadakhan.

That is, unless he prevents this whole mess from happening in the first place.

This is wonderfully executed, because Jay isn't actively seeking to do this out of his own selfish wants, or because he wants to fix something he did in the past. He does it out of necessity, because it's the only way he can think of where everyone on his side gets out alive. Like I said before, I feel like reversing time usually makes it so that a character is getting a cheap solution to their problem, one where they override all the lessons they learned throughout the story. But this is not the case with Jay. It's not a cheap ending, it's just an abrupt one, because Jay realized that this was a threat he wasn't strong enough to face. It takes humility, it takes courage- and it greatly improved him as a character.

One of the other main gripes about time-reversal plot is that there's no consequences. The characters spent all this time fighting to defeat some conflict, only for all of that to be undone and putting them right back at square one.

While this is somewhat true for Skybound, they handle it in a way so that the characters still get something out of it. Most people don't remember, but Jay and Nya still do. Those memories are still very much real for them. Skybound technically did happen, it was just reversed. It's not like it never existed. For Jay and Nya, who still remember, those experiences and traumas are still very much real.

I think the main prospect might be Nadakhan's teapot, though. Let's recount the exact wording of Jay's final wish:

"I wish you had taken my hand, and no one ever found that teapot in the first place."

Jay's wish is in past tense. "I wish you HAD," "no one ever FOUND" (instead of finds). Jay didn't wish that no one would find the teapot ever, just that they wouldn't have found it in the past. This means, while, it would fix the past, the future is still uncertain. Nadakhan could still potentially return, because Jay's wish wasn't specific enough.

While I am not super confident that he actually will, just the potential for it makes this a much better ending. Skybound, while erased, still is very much real, and so is Nadakhan. Jay's original plan was to kill him, but now he's just dormant in the teapot.

Skybound's ending wasn't cheap. It was a way for Jay to realize that he wasn't always going to win, and that no mistake could ever be completely erased.

#ninjago #ns6 #ninjago skybound #rosie rants #ninjago discussions #ninjago analysis #ninjago jay #ninjago nya #ninjago nadakhan

[chipper-smol]

Hollow Knight Telephone Round Two: Relic Coffee Shop

Prompt

.

.

.

Prompts:

1: Lemm finds an odd fellow at the Blue Lake. Normally he wouldn’t bother to approach a stranger out of nowhere, but something in his gut urges him to take action. Quirrel, feeling the effects of age on his body, stares incredulously at the bearded face of a stranger who apparently wants to have him over for coffee. 2: Lemm sets up shop in an abandoned cafe. It’s roomy and pleasant at first, but there are _stacks_ of these disgusting old bitter coffee beans clogging up the rooms. It doesn’t help that bugs keep coming in to order a drink even though he’s posted signs to _KEEP OUT!!_ However, once they start offering Geo be begrudgingly takes it as an opportunity to achieve funds to pay for relics. 3: At first, the coffee was just an excuse to get Geo to pay for relics, but Lemm’s begun to notice that bugs who wandered into his shop with the telltale early symptoms of infection no longer have them on their return visits. He tells himself he’s not an altruist. He’s _not._It’s just a waste to throw out old coffee when someone just needs a pick-me-up.

By @bluwails​

------------------------------- By @hydrochlorinate​

“Just don’t. Tell. Anyone. Else.”

Those were the words that came out of the grumpy barista’s mouth that fateful day. One’s that you completely ignored, as you had already been drinking what could only be the drink of HIgher Beings, with just how heavenly it tasted.

Grinning like a lunatic, you give him 45 geo, not a small sum. If anything though, it was hilariously cheap for a drink that was this good. The bug doesn’t complain about the amount though, so he’s probably fine with it. Wings fluttering in excitement, you leave the shop, ready to tell any remaining survivors about the amazing drink shop you just found.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

The next time you come in, the store is absolutely packed. Denizens from all across the ruins of Hallownest are here, ranging from some uninfected moss knights to that one ladybug that you had a dance off with a while back. There's even a noble here, and- is that a mantis?

Anyway, it looks like your very subtle method of giving publicity to this cafe by talking about literally nothing else to whomever you talked to over the following week paid off. Good, this place deserves all the atte-

“You.”

Oh? You snap out of your thoughts, and look towards the counter, where the barista is levelling a glare at you that could instantly wither those delicate flowers that have been spreading around recently.

You stroll on up to the counter, a grin stretching across your face. The barista narrows his eyes.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep this a secret? Why is my establishment filled to the brim with bugs? Who are these people?!”

...huh. Did he tell you to keep it on the down low? It seems in character from your limited interactions, but you don’t remember exactly. Oh well, time to play it off. You tell him that, well, what can you say except you’re welcome.

You’ve never seen a bug go from “Irritated” to “Ballistic” as fast as this barista. Usually they make a stop at “Angry” or “Absolutely Livid”.

“YOU’RE WELCOME?!?!”

No, see, he’s supposed to say thank you.

“THANK YOU???”

You tell him he’s welcome, before laughing. No, really, you tell him, look around, the place is packed! Business is booming! The barista (you should really ask for his name) manages to bring his volume under control, taking in a deep breath.

“That’s part of the problem. I’m a relic seeker, not a-” He gestures around the cafe, as if looking for the right words to use. Barista, you suggest.

“Exactly. I’m not made to brew coffee-” Oh, that’s what it was called. “-or to be dealing with customers all day long.”

Sure. That’s why he decided to allow people to keep purchasing coffee, or why he decided to put on a cute green and white visor.

You didn’t just come to check in on your new favorite bug though, you have coffee to order! Taking out a sheet of paper from your bag, you begin to read out both your order, and those of your companions. Even with the end of the infection, the leftover damage to hallownest’s caves and architecture makes it dangerous to travel alone.

As you begin to read out your order, the barista shifts from crotchety old bug to attentive worker. You really wish you had come back earlier, instead of letting some of your other traveling buddies pick up the coffee for you. Something about the atmosphere here is… relaxing, despite the amount of people.

After your order is finished, you leave the cafe. Back to the real world bucko, as an old friend of yours would always say.

...Wait a minute you never got the barista’s name.

===============>(Coffee Shop AU)

It’s been 3 weeks. You think. Time gets a little funky down here, what with the sudden influx of void. Sure, most of it has cleared out by now, but every so often your exploration party comes across a tunnel that hasn’t quite been fully illuminated, the shadows just a bit too thick to be natural.

You enter the coffee shop again. It’s gotten a lot quieter as time went on and bugs started coming in on a schedule. There’s still plenty of other customers here, but it’s nowhere near as packed as the first couple of days. Lemm (yeah, you finally got his name) stands at the counter, still slightly disgruntled, but a lot less so than he was at the beginning. In fact, he’s actually talking to someone right now! An actual conversation too, not just an exchange of witty remarks. You can’t see their face, but they appear to be a pillbug wearing a blue hood. 
As you step up to the counter, you can hear their conversation a bit better.

“...of course, I couldn’t just leave it sitting there right? So I move to pick it up, only to find out that the desk I dropped it on was magnetized! So here I am, trying and failing to pick up this one plant hanger for a solid 10 minutes.”

They both laugh at this, before noticing you. The unknown bug turns to face you, allowing you to see his mask.

“Oh, hello, I don’t believe we’ve met before!”

You greet him back, introducing yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Quirrell. I’m… well, I can’t really call myself an explorer, because I’ve already been everywhere! I’m more of a wanderer, really.”

Ahh, a free spirit, you see. You point out that just because he’s been everywhere doesn’t mean he’s seen everything. After all, who knows what could’ve gone down during Hallownest’s peak. Both Quirrell and Lemm get amused by this, for some reason. Seeing your confused look, Lemm decides to speak up.

"He probably knows more about Hallownest than everyone here, having lived here since before the infection and all."

Your eyes widen, and your wings begin to flutter. Truly? An original denizen, and not someone else trying to piece together its history? Quirrell waves off the words, though.

"I wouldn't go that far…" He begins, but Lemm cuts him off before he can go any further.

"Hah! Next you'll be telling me that you weren't the head assistant of the kingdom's best scientist!"

Giving off the equivalent of a blush, Quirrell rubs the back of his head. Lemm turns back to you.

"I'm sure you didn't come in just to chat, though. What can I get for you?"

It's nice to see him making friends.

------------------------------- By @schyrsivochter​

Lemm wasn’t a sociable person. That was a fact. He wasn’t good at talking, or at being friendly. (It wasn’t like he needed it, anyway. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed conversing with another bug.)

No, Lemm was much more of a person for reading. Deciphering the journals of the long dead, the writing and languages, was something he thoroughly enjoyed. Other artefacts spoke differently: the materials from which they were made, the way they were worked, the artistic style. It was a different kind of reading; some might say a more figurative one. But it was just as interesting.

Of course, architecture was part of that. It had not been a coincidence that Lemm had set up camp in Hallownest’s abandoned capital. When he’d arrived, he hadn’t dared to think that he’d ever finish exploring and finding new things. And it was true; he’d only explored a little bit before he’d realised that collecting and gathering relics was no use if he never took a proper look at them, instead letting them gather dust on the shelves, the tables, and the floor of the long-abandoned shop he’d moved into. So he’d decided to stay there, poring over his collection. His picture of the world of Hallownest in times past grew ever more detailed, more complete.

He’d opened the shop because people did not seem to stop wanting to sell him relics, and it never hurt to appear a little professional. And it had been a reliable source of new artefacts; new knowledge. He’d never sold anything, of course. His collection was his, and his alone.

And then came the dark. The cleansing void. It had taken him by surprise; he’d been working, and only noticed that anything was amiss when the light dimmed and he was finally bathed in darkness. He must’ve fallen unconscious at that point, and there’d been no telling how long it had been until he’d awoken. It hadn’t been until later that he’d learned that this was what had obliterated the plague, leaving in its wake hundreds of confused survivors and thousands of dead. No, the next thing to happen that told him things were not as usual was that a bug had come in, asked if he was open, and, upon his affirmative answer, asked for a hot drink, holding out a piece of ten.

Taken by surprise, he’d offered to make tea. He’d immediately regretted it, since it meant the bug would be staying for a while, probably without selling him relics, but it was easy enough to do and would get him geo, his supply of which had been running low. So he put a kettle on and took the money. The bug had thanked him profusely, while he had elected to remain quiet.

Not long afterwards, the same bug and four others stood in the doorway. Whether they had relics for him, he’d asked. They’d looked amongst themselves, and one had asked, ‘Is this not a coffee shop?’

‘I suppose it might’ve once been,’ he’d said. ‘Now it’s mine.’

More confused looks and standing around, and then the bug he’d seen before asked if he’d make more tea. He’d said no, not unless they paid him twice as much as the last time and stayed quiet and didn’t disturb him in his work. To his horror, the five bugs had agreed, and so he’d dug out cups from the coffee shop’s former stock and afterwards found himself a little richer in geo but with a significantly worse mood.

He had his peace afterwards, though. At least for a while. Now a bug had arrived, taller than the others, wearing a headscarf. Lemm had mentally prepared for the bug to ask for coffee, but the bug had halted in front of one of the tables that Lemm had repurposed for his collection of relics.

‘Admiring my collection?’ Lemm asked.

’Yes, quite!’ the bug answered, chipper and friendly. ‘I’m curious how you managed to get a hold of so many texts in such diverse languages! These are journals, are they not?’

‘They are,’ Lemm acknowledged. ‘From all over Hallownest.’

‘But most of them aren’t any Hallownest language.’ The bug put a hand on his mask. ‘I suppose they’re from travellers that came to the ruins and perished?’

‘Quite right,’ Lemm said. He had to admit, begrudgingly, that the bug standing before him was sharp and knew his history. A trait not many others shared.

‘Can you read all of them?’ The mask turned towards Lemm, inclined in question.

‘No,’ he answered truthfully, making his way around the counter to stand next to the bug. ‘I haven’t had the time to decipher all of them yet. But I’ll get around to it eventually.’

‘Interesting,’ the bug said. ‘I can—huh?’

He turned towards the entrance, and Lemm followed his gaze. Lemm was about to ask what the problem was, when a bug appeared in the entrance. The one that he’d made tea twice for. Ah yes, he thought. A customer. Two of them, in fact; one of the others from before had joined the one who’d taken a fancy to paying Lemm to make tea.

‘I don’t suppose,’ Lemm said, ‘there is any way to convince you to find tea somewhere else?’

The bugs shook their head.

Lemm sighed, and muttered an apology to the tall visitor. Time to get it over with.

He went to the back room to prepare the tea, and overheard the two visitors conversing in the front.

‘What’s this, anyway?’

‘Historical documents. Journals of travellers.’

‘What’s it doing here?’

‘I think the shopkeep collects them.’

‘That’s correct!’ Lemm called. ‘I’m always buying, if you have anything of historical value.’

He grabbed the cups and walked back to the front. ‘That’s fifty geo. Unless you have relics.’

The bugs complained under their breath, but paid up, and Lemm could direct his attention back to the visitor.

‘So is this what you do?’ they asked. ‘Opened the coffee shop again and collecting relics in your free time?’

Lemm was dumbstruck for a moment. Then he remembered to be outraged. ‘No! I am not opening this place as a coffee shop! People just keep coming and demanding tea and I cannot let an opportunity to earn easy money go to waste!’

‘Relic business not exactly booming, then, I assume?’

‘I’m—’ he spluttered, ‘It’s not a business! I don’t sell my relics, they’re mine!’

‘So you wouldn’t have any income if you weren’t selling tea?’

Lemm had the distinct impression that the bug was making fun of him. He didn’t answer, but simply walked up to the table, grabbed a random journal, and took it to his desk to try and get some work done.

He had not yet prepared his quill and ink when he was interrupted yet again.

‘You know,’ the visitor called, ‘that one is from a traveller from Greynest. Came here looking for his brother, never found him. No doubt said brother also perished in the ruins.’

Lemm turned around to see the bug standing in the doorway, having followed him halfway. ‘And how do you know this?’ he asked.

The bug shrugged. ‘I read it.’

Lemm regarded the bug. They didn’t seem to be joking.

‘You mean to tell me,’ Lemm began, slowly, ‘you know this language?’

‘Yes,’ they said nonchalantly. ‘I think I’ve been to Greynest? Must have been a while ago.’

‘Are you a traveller, then?’ Lemm asked. ‘You don’t seem the type.’

As soon as he’d spoken the words, Lemm became aware how utterly ridiculous it was of him to make observations about people. He didn’t like people, he wasn’t interested in people—

The bug laughed. ‘I am, in fact. I have travelled far and wide.’

‘Hmph,’ said Lemm, unsure what else to say. He turned back to his work, looked at the angular shapes carved into the stone, but now it seemed senseless to try and make sense of it when he knew that it was no mystery to the bug standing behind him.

At some point, he looked up and found that he was hungry and the visitor was gone. Oh, well. Time for a meal, then, and afterwards he might be able to find something else to do.

* * *

The next time the tea-drinker returned, they asked for tea and then asked Lemm about the relics, and he was in a favourable enough mood to talk about them. They asked some fairly stupid questions, but it seemed to come out of a genuine interest in the topic, so he indulged them. Plus, he had to admit that he enjoyed having a reliable source of geo. Not that he needed it much for buying relics, these days, but he supposed that his supplies of food – and of tea – would not last indefinitely, and he didn’t particularly fancy having to go back to scavenging, now that there were actual people living in the vicinity again. No, he’d rather find some place where he could buy what he needed fair and square.

The traveller with the headscarf returned, and it was an odd sort of feeling Lemm had about them. Like he actually liked having them in his shop and talking to them. And the perplexing thing was that the bug also seemed to enjoy conversing with Lemm. Which one one hand was absolutely preposterous, on the other … it was a refreshing change.

The bug introduced himself as Quirrel, apprentice to Monomon the Teacher, and Lemm could hardly believe it. Monomon the Teacher, one of the most brilliant minds of Hallownest? It couldn’t be! And yet it was not all too difficult to imagine. He’d seen stranger things in these lands.

Quirrel also was the one who later suggested Lemm officially open the shop as a coffee shop again. Lemm had thrown him out at that and gone back to work.

Now, a short while later, he looked up and Quirrel was back, standing at the counter, watching Lemm silently.

Lemm rose and went to the front, choosing to stare back equally silently. Lemm was good at that. Probably.

‘So,’ Quirrel said at length, his voice still as annoyingly friendly as ever, ‘have you thought about it?’

Lemm kept staring.

Quirrel held up his hands. ‘You need money, you don’t have much else to do, and besides’ – Quirrel shrugged. – ‘people like your tea.’

‘I certainly have enough to do,’ Lemm started. ‘These texts don’t decipher themselves. What’s so funny?’

Quirrel stopped his giggling and said, ‘They sort of do. Have you forgotten who stands before you?’

‘You don’t read all of these languages.’ Really, Quirrel’s ego was getting on Lemm’s nerves.

‘But most of them,’ Quirrel said, shrugging, ‘and most of the Archive’s records are intact. And we do have a nice section on language and writing.’

Lemm was silent for a moment, mostly because he could not think of a good comeback. Quirrel had a point, and Lemm did not like that in the slightest.

‘Let’s make a deal,’ Quirrel said. ‘I help you translate your texts and catalogue your artefacts, and you’ – Quirrel jabbed a finger in Lemm’s direction – ‘you sell your tea officially.’

‘Out of the question.’

‘You’re already doing it.’

‘I am not!’

‘Yes, you are.’ Quirrel said this with absolute certainty and no anger, and there was a voice at the back of Lemm’s mind that said: You really sort of are. And you could use the help. You don’t like the busywork anyway.

‘All right,’ Lemm grumbled. ‘Deal.’

‘Thank you,’ said Quirrel, audibly grinning.

‘I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?’ Lemm asked under his breath.

‘I don’t think so,’ Quirrel said. ‘I’m curious – what else can you make? Tea alone is a bit boring, don’t you think?’

‘Shut up,’ Lemm said, ‘or I change my mind.’

* * *

Lemm did not change his mind, even though Quirrel didn’t shut up. It had been a while, and Lemm hated to admit it, but he enjoyed doing something different for a change. Customers were now plenty, and Lemm had a menu with more than one item, and his relic collection was no bigger, but more orderly and better understood than it had ever been, thanks to Quirrel’s – and the Archive’s – help.

Another thing that Lemm was not quite ready to admit was that people could be nice. The more he talked to customers, interacted with them, observed them, the more he began to appreciate them. He used to be content in reading historical texts and artefacts, preferring to learn about people that were dead and gone. Living bugs had never really interested him.

Nowadays, however, it seemed that people could be just as interesting to read as anything else. And, as Quirrel entered, greeting him, and he could not help his mood being lifted just by the prospect of learning something new and interesting that Quirrel learnt on his last trip to the Archive, Lemm supposed that sometimes, very rarely … people were something he could enjoy.

------------------------------- By @gardening-clown​

------------------------------- By @buglife​

Lemm was five seconds away from throwing someone through the window.

His shop was now occupied by five bugs of various species, talking, laughing, and sitting around when he could be in the back doing literally anything else. It took weeks of bugs thinking that his relic shop was a coffee one before he simply gave up and made peace with it. At least he got some geo from it to pay adventurers that did come by to sell legit relics. How they mistook his shop for a coffee one, he would have never guess.

All he had was a little brewer that was barely put back together that he scavenged from some random shop, but other bugs seemed to like it, for some strange reason. It wasn’t even good coffee he was making, but they seemed to accept it. After all, who else in this dead kingdom was even selling coffee? He had looted plenty of shops and took as many sacks of beans as he would when he first arrived, and there was no way he could drink them all, so he might as well do something with them.

But he was steadily losing his patience with the amount of bugs around him. They were talking and loitering. Loitering was probably the worst of it all as it made the loner bug feel his shell crawl with the forced social interaction. He just wanted them to leave. He couldn’t stand the feeling of a crowded space, which is why he went to a dead kingdom in the first place.

Hell, he had to take his beloved odds and ends down from the shelves to keep some curious bug from touching them all up with their dirty fingers and breaking something.

He found himself dreading the sound of the bell above his door, and when it rang he wondered if someone else was coming to ask him for some random drink or be an annoying thorn in his side.

To his hidden delight however, it was the little wanderer. They looked like a grub, to be honest, with a black body and a stark white horned shell for a head. The nail on their back seemed to be a little put together the last time he saw them, perhaps they visited the Nailsmith? He never asked for their name, he didn’t want to learn it to avoid attachments, but he found them oddly endearing. They liked to listen to him ramble about his theories on various relics they bring him, so they can’t be too bad. Plus they were quiet and polite, something he was immensely grateful for.

They bounced inside the door and came to a stop, looking at the five other bugs sitting around and chatting. They tilted their head to the side, watching the bugs for a moment before looking at Lemm. They stretched out a stubby arm from under their cloak and pointed at him.

Lemm sighed. Of course, the little Wanderer had been gone for a while, and obviously didn’t know what had become of his beloved shop. He gestured for them to come over, which they did and looked up at him expectantly.

“Bugs keep thinking that this is a coffee shop.” He explained. “So here they are, drinking coffee that I make on a terrible little brewer. I gave up trying to kick them all out all the time, it stopped being worth the effort.”

The little wanderer blinked a few times, looking somewhat confused. They pointed to the cup being held by the beetle on one of Lemm’s chairs and mimed the action of drinking it.

“Yes, that’s coffee they are drinking.” He raised a brow as he looked down at the grub. “Haven’t you ever seen coffee before?”

They shook their head.

“Really now? Hrm…” He wasn’t sure where the little wanderer had come from if they never saw coffee before. It was a fairly common drink besides tea. They must have grew up in a rather isolated place If they never saw it. He decided he might as well explain it, it would be better to do it now than later.

“Coffee is a drink that bugs like to drink to give them energy.” He saw them perk up a bit at the ‘energy’ part. “It’s rather bitter, so some like it with sugar. I like it plain. It keeps me awake when I am working.”

They somehow made a face when he said it was bitter, tilting their head and angling their eye holes to look affronted. Lemm squashed down a laugh at the expression and decided to get to business.

“Anyway, they trade me geo for it, which lets me compensate bugs that get me relics. Do you have any for me today?” He hoped they did, he needed something to brighten up his day.

The wanderer nodded, reaching under their cloak to pull out a black orb. Lemm recognized it immediately to be an arcane egg. He loved working with those. Peeling back each layer revealed new information and new discoveries. He was in fact, still working on the one he got weeks before. He needed to be careful with them, and he reveled in the intense focus and work it needed to discover it’s secrets. His day instantly got better.

“Very nice, I’ll be glad to take that off your hands for the usual price.” The old beetle held out his hand and the wanderer gently placed the egg it in. They held up a hand once it was free and shook their head, pointed to a cup sitting on the counter.

“Ah, you want to trade this for a cup of coffee?” He wasn’t going to say no to that. If the wanderer was okay with it, it was a perfectly reasonable business transaction. His suspicions were confirmed when they nodded and bounced in place, looking as excited as they were able to. “Well I can certainly do that.”

Thankfully, the two bugs occupying the chairs in front of the counter left, leaving behind their dirty cups and a few geo for the mess. They thanked him and he grumped out a ‘have a good day’ as they left, seemingly indifferent to his mood. Oh well, at least it brought down the occupancy to a more manageable level for his social batteries. He pushed the dirty cups out of the way and gestured to an open seat. “Here, sit down and I’ll get you a cup.”

They bounced upwards to take a seat, swinging their legs back and forth as they waited. It didn’t take Lemm long to throw some ground up beans and water into the grinder, watching the brewed coffee pour into a clean cup. He carefully carried the hot cup down and set it in front of the wanderer. “Be careful, it’s very hot. I’ll bring you some sugar, you didn’t seem to like the ‘bitter’ description.”

They nodded and watched as he pushed over a bowl of honey sugar and a spoon. It was the least he could do after they got him another arcane egg.  “There you are, help yourself.”

They bowed their head in thanks and took up the spoon, poking it into the bowl.

“Excuse me,” One of the bugs by the window got up, the one with a bent antenna and holding their empty cup. “Could I get a refill, please?”

Lemm held back a sigh and nodded, taking the cup and heading back to his brewer. He had to smack it a couple times for it to start working again, but in the end he got a passable cup of coffee out of it. He returned just in timed to hear said bug exclaim, “Woah there buddy, you must really like sugar!”

He looked to the wanderer, who had added so much sugar to their cup of coffee, that he could hear the sugar that couldn’t dissolve scrape against the ceramic as it was stirred. It looked like fresh cement, there was only a bit of brown to denote that once, it was indeed a cup of coffee.

He wordlessly handed the other bug their coffee, who took it and retreated back to sit by the window. He was about to say something to the wanderer, when to his horror, their head tilted backwards. A maw of sharp black teeth opened wide, and he watched, astonished, as the mix of sugar and coffee oozed into their mouth and to who knows where. A long black tongue lashed out to get every last bit of sugar out of the cup, before the mouth closed with a quiet click. They must have felt him staring, because they turned to look at him with their fathomless, dark eyes. He stared back, wondering what the hell was actually sitting in front of him.

They then bounced in place and gave him a thumbs up. They made a shape of a heart with their hands, a way that they say ‘thank you’. They seemed rather happy.

“Um…you’re welcome?” He managed, after he gathered his composure again.

They sat still for a moment, seeming to ponder on what they had just consumed. He figured that they were probably trying to figure out if they liked it or not. He doubt they even managed to taste the coffee from the sheer amount of sugar in that cup.

Then, to his horror, they began to vibrate. At first it was a few twitches, and then it steadily became more and more severe, until they were a literal blur. The chair rattled under the stress and the bugs that remained in the shop turned to look at the commotion.

It was then, Lemm realized he fucked up.

They suddenly dashed away, slamming into the shop door with such force that it caved outwards. There was only the short sound of shattering glass and the scream of metal before it flew off it’s hinges and rattled down the hallway. He could hear the hurried pitter-patter of the wanderer’s tiny feet, now fast enough to blur into one continuous sound, race down the hall and out of sight and hearing.

He just stood there, looking at the wreckage of his shop door, wondering where the hell is he going to get a replacement, if there even was a replacement. He looked at the three shocked bugs, standing and looking at the wreckage, and then he got himself an idea.

“Hey fellas,” He said, as he turned and looked at the bugs next to the window. “How would you all like some free coffee if you find me a door?”

------------------------------- By @radical-mudkips​

------------------------------- By @unregisteredcookie​

Lemm's 'shop' was empty.

Actually, no, that… that wasn't right. Lemm's shop wasn't a shop in the first place--it was a haven for relics and ancient knick-knacks, and the shelves were filled to overflowing with stone tablets and peculiar eggs that held unimaginable information. Not that Lemm was ever able to crack into the eggs' shells, but he knew--he knew there was more treasured information sleeping beneath. If only he were able to open it up without risking that information being damaged.

And that wasn't right, either. The shop being empty, that was. Right now, the shelves were empty, but that was less because of the absence of relics and more because they were all stowed away in the back room to be sorted. He had a notebook he was combing over, quill in hand as he scribbled out little bits of information that might relate to one another.

'Might', because Lemm wasn't really from Hallownest. So he didn't know for sure whether this smooth L-shaped contraption was a door handle or a piece to a lost work of art.

It was while Lemm was scribbling about in this journal bound in parchment (hand-made and flimsy, using the paper he found around the area that was clean and allowed to dry) that he heard it: The distant clattering of the elevator. There were about seven options he could think of off of the top of his head, each more dreaded than the last. It could be that scarcely-seen Nailsmith who seemed to know more about the history of this ruin than he let on. It could be the peculiar little silent bug that stared up at him now and again, the one that sometimes passed by with a relic to sell. It could be that talkative windbag, droning on and on in his droning voice, so grating and persistent that Lemm struggled to ignore him. He was probably the worst.

Lemm stopped writing, tilted his head, and listened for the telltale sound. The rattling stopped, and all that he heard for a while was silence. And then.

Ding.

He sighed, getting to his feet. A customer it was, then. How delightful. Here's hoping that the customer wasn't 'Zote the Mighty'.

He had a small moment of dread when he saw the horn, a critical blow of dismay that tempted him to retreat back into the back room and pretend to be out for a walk, but then he saw the second horn and breathed a sigh of relief. Oh, it wasn't the Zote person after all. It was… them. The other little one.

They looked up at him as he approached the register and looked down at them. Their eyes were vacant as ever, face impossibly unreadable. Lemm doubted that he'd ever get used to it.

Lemm liked this little bug, if for no other reason than they were quiet, kept their hands to themself, and brought him relics to purchase. They were the only one willing to sell these relics, and they were the only reason Lemm often said what he said next.

"Cup of coffee, or looking to sell?"

He never had much company in this place until the Nailsmith (Lemm never caught his name, never bothered asking, really) first came in looking for materials for his smithing. Almost took one of Lemm's Pale Idols from under his beard while he was noting in his journal. After the initial yelling that followed and a cup of coffee, the Nailsmith apologized by paying for the cup. And he did it again. And again. Until the mapmaker came in, saw, and bought a cup himself. Until the hooded pillbug came in, hummed, and bought one for himself. And then--

Well. And then he had a coffee shop.

Lemm wished he could say that he hated it, and he did, at first. But over time, he found the company rather pleasant. Besides, the geo paid for this little bug's relic collection well enough, so he wasn't complaining.

So. Did they want a cup of coffee, or did they want to sell their relics? Lemm didn't get an answer. Instead, they looked around at the empty shelves for a moment before turning their empty eyes back onto him, tilting their head to the side slightly.

It took Lemm a moment.

"Oh, I moved the relics into the back room," he said. "I've been needing to work on sorting them out and writing notes about them. Never would I have thought that I would have so many to study."

Satisfied, they reached into the confines of their cloak. Lemm leaned forward a little, watching as they rummaged about for a moment, heart skipping a beat as he pondered what sort of relic they were going to sell this time.

And then they withdrew their small hand, reached up, and dropped a fist full of geo onto the counter.

Lemm blinked and stared at the geo for a moment. Something wispy and thin clung to them, and when he picked it up and opened the register, it was sticky. Was this webbing? Lemm wasn't aware of there being any spiders in Hallownest, aside from maybe that red-cloaked bug he saw very rarely flitting about outside his window.

So. No relics today. Fine, at least he'd have more money to buy another one later.

"One coffee coming up," he murmured, rummaging around behind the counter. Underneath the register was where he kept the coffee pot, which he refrained from moving just so he could be prepared if a 'customer' came by. He busied himself with it for a few moments, filling the filter and checking the water, before clicking the button and letting it steep. Granted, he didn't know what kind of coffee they'd drink, but they didn't make it clear anyway, so he doubted that it mattered.

Besides. They seemed a little preoccupied by something else at the moment. After a few minutes, the coffee was finished, and Lemm poured them a cup. He chose a caramel-like flavor, because they seemed about the size of a child and a little bit of sweetness never hurt anyone. Lemm reached over the counter and held it out to them, which they took in their hands and stared down at for a moment. Lemm was about ready to head back into the back when it happened. A crack. It almost sounded like something breaking, but when he turned to look behind himself at the small knight, they still stood there. Another crack, one that made his fur stand on end and his body stiffen, and Lemm caught the glimpse of something sharp and white shifting beneath the bottom of their mask.

A mouth?

They tilted their head back. A jaw opened. Many layers of teeth glimmered in the dim light, cracking as they did so, the noise chilling him through his chitin and making his hemolymph freeze. Lemm stood there, stock still, as they lifted the cup up to their face, jaw extending outwards to drink it, and then-- --they set the scalding hot coffee in their mouth, cup and all, closed it, and crunched.

Lemm had never seen a bug eat a cup of coffee before. He could still hear the crunch, crunch, crunching, muffled and quiet and growing quieter, noise sounding like a particularly crunchy tiktik being eaten.

Lemm shuddered. When the knight looked back at him, he turned around quickly and went into the back room.

Okay. Suddenly they weren't the second most welcome sight for sore eyes. Suddenly Lemm wished that it was that talking, yapping Zote fellow who came in instead.

------------------------------- By @doodle-chris​

------------------------------- By @payasita​

There was no shortage of open real estate as far as the City of Tears was concerned. But that certainly didn't make every option an equally viable living space.

First, Lemm wanted something enclosed away from the rain, and insulated enough to stave off the humidity. That discounted anything open to the outside, as he wouldn't risk his relics to even the threat of exposure. A leaking roof dripping down onto crumbling tablets or fragile spider silk could devastate hundreds of years worth of history, so that also discounted any room without a few protective floors above it.

Next, it had to be out of the way of any and all shambling husks and infected critters. They weren't the brightest of creatures, so a room only accessible by elevator was ideal. He'd never seen anything plague-cursed have enough wherewithal to operate one, and the noise of it would give him plenty warning of visitors otherwise.

Lastly, he wanted someplace with plenty of shelf space. He needed little in the way of actual living space, so long as he had ample storage room set up in such a way that things could easily be organized.

All of these qualities described, in his opinion, the ideal relic storage and research dwelling. And in the end, he was lucky enough to find it.

Unearthing the previous tenant's belongings informed him that it also, apparently, described the ideal setup for a small café. On his first day in his new residence, he'd uncovered an antique coffee machine and a few other ancient tools, kept miraculously free of rust and wear. The room's conditions must be far better than he thought.

He'd dusted his findings off and set them back up on the counter, having quickly deduced where they'd once been put to use through old nicks and rings left on the shellwood by years of service. Lemm had felt a small swell of pride at finding this small bit of the city's history, and began a set of notes on his theories about this tower complex and its surrounding culture from everything he found around. Perhaps the whole place had been a shopping centre.

On the second day, he pried open the crates in the back room, and they had spilled forth bags upon bags of beans and teas. There were so many of them that he was able to rationalize cutting one open and examining its contents without much guilt. The beans were coffee, that much was obvious at a glance.

Biological samples weren't exactly his area of expertise, but smell and texture alone all but convinced him that they'd been perfectly preserved in their airtight prisons, well dried and perfectly edible.

Most likely.

For the sake of research, and because the bag was already open, he put them through the machine. He committed some time to studying the machine beforehand, as he was afraid mishandling it may destroy it. But an hour of trying to figure the damn thing out was frustrating enough that he finally reasoned that if he did break it, he could at least take it apart and examine its insides for anything interesting. Lemm was a relic keeper, not a tinker. So he winged it with a bit of rainwater and the beans, and got wet beans and hot murky water all over the counter to show for it. He figured out the grinder and filter after his second attempt, and by the third, he had a mug of fresh coffee to show for his efforts. The scent that filled his shop and the outside corridor must have been nothing Hallownest had experienced in centuries. Lemm had little taste for the stuff himself, but in his experimentation he'd gone and made a whole pot. So he supposed he needed to acquire a taste for it rather quickly.

Luckily for his health, that turned out to be unnecessary. The smell, perhaps amplified in the ever-present petrichor, quickly attracted guests of the still-living variety. There turned out to be far more travelers and treasure hunters bumping around this old city than he'd initially expected, prone to tucking himself away in solitude as he was. Introverted or no, he happily gave the coffee away rather than waste it or risk giving himself a coronary. There were even a great deal of disposable mugs stacked away that just made it all the more convenient.

Just over the course of an hour, Lemm was graced with a fair amount of odd characters intruding on his doorstep. There was a surly fellow wielding a metal shield of some foreign make, who announced his intentions towards finding and conquering Hallownest's old colosseum. He was convinced it was still in operation somewhere. Lemm decided that if it was, the place was more than likely not populated with the sorts of honorable warriors this poor bastard was looking to prove himself against, but he kept his thoughts to himself and sent the boy off with a steaming cup of acrid bean water. Next came another traveller who gave off a more scholarly air than the first had, and who carried a more conventional weapon at his hip. The pill bug certainly acted more like a student than a warrior, all bright-eyed and curious and talkative. But no doubt he must know how to use that nail of his to have survived this far down and still be so cheerful. His stay wasn't entirely unpleasant; the two actually talked a short while about Hallownest's history and their shared learnings. The bug even tried to insist on paying, but Lemm was adamant that his reliquary wasn't a damn breakfast nook, thank you, keep your geo. But if he really wanted to pay, Lemm would certainly take any interesting artifact or trinket the bug happened to pick up on his travels. They eventually came to an agreement: A journal pilfered from a shrine somewhere in Greenpath for an extra cup for the road. Lemm's next visitor was, of all things, a cartographer. This one was far too involved in his work for much conversation, which was fine by Lemm. But he did manage to barter a cup for a map of the city. It was incomplete and bare of any landmarks, much to Lemm's disappointment. Finally, an odd little wanderer walked in almost soundlessly. They did not speak to Lemm, nor did they give any indication that they were here for any specific reason. But they had acquired an old city crest and a King's idol on their path, and Lemm had a more typical exchange of geo for relics with them. And then because it was the last of the coffee in the still warm pot, and because the little wanderer did not refuse, he sent them off with a cup on their way out. Thankful to be rid of all the blasted coffee and done with the uptick in social interaction, he then washed the pot and continued with his normal studies. It was nice and quiet, now.

But then the next morning, the pill bug returned. And he was surprised (and clearly disappointed) to see the coffee pot empty. It was a shame, he'd said. For he'd gone and found himself another journal, and considered a relic he couldn't use for a hot morning's drink to be a fine deal indeed. Lemm was inclined to agree, for how it saved him his geo in case of a more potentially significant find down the line. He turned the machine back on at once at the prospect. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to brew just one cup, and was still rightfully intimidated by the old, fussy contraption, and not inclined to mess with what worked. So he made another full pot, and talked shop.

The pill bug wasn't the only one to return that day. The would-be gladiator came back, still not having found his destination, and had the gall to just expect another drink. After the deal he'd just made, Lemm was feeling markedly less generous than he had been the day before, and informed his nasally guest that he'd have to barter something old and interesting for it.

The ant grumbled and left, but returned a few minutes later with a guardsman's crest. He'd apparently seen old treasures all over the place, but had found it beneath him to go and pick them up." A warrior has no need to weigh himself down with baubles," he'd sneered over his cup. Lemm privately thought that the plague-crazed beasts who were doubtlessly running the colosseum now would soon show this haughty kid what they cared for his warrior’s creed in due time, so he said nothing.

The silent wanderer came later. This time when they held up an ancient journal, they made no move to take the geo held out to them. They only stared at Lemm, with their little mask so perfectly unmoving he could easily think them a sudden corpse. Then his hand drifted towards the pot, and the creature set the journal down on the counter.

"...News of a relic keeper bartering goods for coffee has already spread among your lot, then? I suppose even wanderers must have a rumor mill," Lemm talked to himself while pouring their cup. Predictably, they padded away without an answer, drink in hand. Lemm would soon learn how right he was.

- The coming days were more lucrative than his business had ever been. All the travellers he'd met before all came back with various oddities found around Hallownest, as did anyone new. Though not everyone quite understood what constituted a relic, and Lemm had to turn down more than a few shiny rocks and petrified lake detritus. But they all got the routine down soon enough. And, well, Lemm did have an extraordinary amount of coffee that'd just go to waste for another thousand years otherwise, so, may as well.

The pill bug, Quirrel, came to be his best "customer", though Lemm would be twice damned before he ever said the word aloud. Either way, Quirrel often stayed long enough just chatting to warrant a second cup.

"I ought to have you bring double the treasure," Lemm griped once while handing that second cup over. Quirrel's response was a good natured laugh.

"Perhaps elsewhere, that'd be fair. Coffee was a luxury in some lands, and remains so to this day, but by my understanding it was quite in abundance here. Though I couldn't tell you where in the world they must have been growing it," he mused. Lemm raised a brow, wondering once again where in gods' names this bug was educated. But as asking would be an invitation to hear his life story, Lemm deferred.

"Is that right?" he asked instead, "I don't care for the stuff myself, luxury or no." "Really? Not an uncommon opinion, I suppose. I picked it up as a habit at one point... Though, I couldn't tell you when, now that I think of it," Quirrel trailed off, adjusting the oversized mask over his head. Lemm found it an odd choice of protection from the rain, though he supposed it was better than nothing. He only shrugged, "I hear many students do make a habit of caffeine. Your sorts can never get enough hours out of the day."

Quirrel stared at him for a brief moment, and then huffed a laugh again. "Student? You mistake me, sir. I've only ever been a traveller for as long as I can remember."

Lemm didn't bother to mask his surprise, and Quirrel's eyes crinkled. "You're right on that second part, though. So much to see, and never enough time." He took a sip.

-

The mapmaker came back one day with an order for two drinks. He had no relics, but offered an extra inkwell and quill instead. Lemm found equipment for keeping good notes was lucky to come by, and reluctantly made the trade, much to the old bug's gratitude.

"Thank you, the second is for my wife running our shop surface-side. It was her suggestion you might want materials for your research."

Lemm cleared his throat, blustering slightly under his beard.

"Ahh. Hm. I can appreciate that, then."

"Oh, on that note, have you any sugar you can add in for her?" The bug peered over Lemm’s shoulder, which rankled him for some reason.

"...I did find a jar back here somewhere, I think." Though he couldn't promise it was good. Could sugar go bad? It still just looked like white sand.

"Thank you. ...Err, actually, is that a box of tea on the shelf, there?"

Lemm paused in his rummaging, and looked back at the open storeroom door. The room now made a good home for his relics, though he never bothered unpacking the open crates.

"...It is," he eyed the bug neutrally.

"Ah. Iselda enjoys her coffee, though I quite prefer a good cup of tea myself. ...Erm, if it isn't too much trouble, of course," the bug grinned politely over folded hands.

Lemm, to his credit, did not sigh. There was indeed a kettle back there, too. And at least he knew how to brew tea without making an entire day's worth of it.

He brought up the jar of sugar, and leveled the bug with a grumpy look.

"Fine. But next time, you bring relics."

The cartographer acquiesced immediately, and that was the point where Lemm realized he'd invited them both to expect a "next time".

-

The silent wanderer came back again, on the tail of a group of treasure hunters who came in and left up the elevator. Shortly after, there was the sound of struggle above them.

This had become commonplace. Anyone who showed up had to contend with the violent husks above and beyond the shop, and some were more prepared to deal with the dangers of Hallownest than others. Lemm only poured the wanderer's cup in bored silence, tuning out the thumping and shouts above. "You know this stuff stunts your growth, right?" Lemm asked flatly. The wanderer only ever stared.

"Dehydrates you, too. You active types probably ought to stick to water. Imagine having to deal with the horrors of rotting sentries and whatnot with a diuretic sloshing about in you." Unbothered, they leaned forward and took their cup in both hands, still staring up while he spoke. Lemm honestly had no idea if they even understood him, and considered the possibility that their muteness was compounded by a language barrier. But they at least always made the effort to appear attentive.

There was a thundering crash above them that made Lemm flinch, and then a silence that kept him tense. The voices started up once again after a few seconds, and the sound of footsteps hurrying away as fast as they could. By his guess, his last customers had just had a very close encounter with a belfly. He'd likely not be seeing them again.

He turned his attention back down to the wanderer with a sigh.

"...Let me see what you have, then."

The tiny thing set their cup carefully down by their feet, and fished a genuine void egg from the depths of their grubby cloak. Lemm was struck with the brief impulse to give them the entire coffee machine for it.

-

There was a new visitor one morning, just as Lemm brewed the pot for his regulars. He rarely got anyone so very early, and was guiltily nursing his own cup of acrid sugary heart disease before anyone would be around to see. Alright, so he'd acquired the taste for it. It was hardly unreasonable with how much time he spent around the smell, and it helped him make up for lost time studying his relics later in the night. Perfectly understandable, and so he definitely did not freeze mid sip like he was caught in a crime when the door opened unexpectedly. The red-clad stranger who walked in wore a wicked-sharp needle slung across her back, and fixed him with an even sharper gaze.

"...I hear you sell tea." Her voice was quiet enough, but cut clear without the normal hesitant lilt of a question.

Lemm slowly put down his mug, and the soft thunk it made against the countertop sounded awfully loud in the morning lull.

"...I don't sell anything. I buy," he insisted.

The altogether frightening lass glanced between him, the full coffee pot, and the kettle sat next to a stack of assorted loose leaf teas. Then back at him.

He grunted, hiding an inane flush of indignation behind another swig of his drink.

"...I seek artifacts. Relics of this place's past, and anything that may help me understand it, for geo. ...Or for a cuppa, for those who'd rather." He shifted behind the counter, nearly trailing off into a mumble. But at this point, there wasn’t much use in fighting his reputation.

The girl just scrutinized him until she seemed to come to a decision. She then turned and left without saying anything else, opting to hop down the elevator shaft rather than waste a moment calling the lift.

Lemm rolled his eyes and gulped down the dregs of his coffee, vaguely annoyed. By this point, he was used to the rude and half feral sorts of vagabonds that only came by out of curiosity. At least she was quick about leaving.

All the better for him, as far as he was concerned. He doubted such a young thing would have anything of note to share with Hallownest's foremost historian.

#telephoneknight #hollowknight #hollow knight #RelicCoffeeAu #lemm #tiso #ghost #quirrel

[feeisamarshmallow]

b99 reunion week fic prompt #1

Prompt: Childhood Friends AU

Title: Two Fatherless Kids from Brooklyn

Summary: In which Gina is a cop, and Jake is working at a Sunglasses Hut until she gets him a job at the precinct.

Read on AO3

"Come on, Jake. I can get you a job, I'm not kidding."

Gina mutes the TV in the middle of the climatic final scene of Lost to get Jake's attention, which annoys him. But it's Gina and she's his oldest friend, so he lets it go.

"I don't know Gina…"

He shuffles on the couch, suddenly uncomfortable at the thought of leaving his job and shaking up the equilibrium him and Gina had found as twenty-something roommates. It's still weird living in Nana's apartment without any of her stuff…and without her. But it's given both of them needed space from their respective mothers.

"You hate Sunglasses Hut," she continues.

"I don't hate Sunglasses Hut."

He didn't. Sunglasses Hut was just a dysfunctional enough workplace that they would never fire him. It gave him income enough to cover half of their rent-controlled apartment, now decorated with Gina's eclectic array of posters and knicknacks, and Jake's extensive DVD collection.

"You made up a whole rap just yesterday about how much you hated Sunglasses Hut," she raises her eyebrows at him, seeing through him in a way only Gina could. Suddenly he's ten years old again, and trying to deny the fact that he has a crush on Jenny Gildenhorn.

"The glasses are cheap. My co-worker's a cheat. I'm gonna quit one day and get rich, you'll see!" he rattles off without a second thought. "Right, I forgot about that. One of my masterpieces."

"So I'm giving you a reason to quit."

The TV is still muted and they're probably missing important plot points needed to understand next week's episode. Jake blows out a breath, annoyed.

"I'd be a terrible secretary. I'm messy. I'm forgetful. I always forget to check the answering machine. That's like, two-thirds of the job right there." He turns away from Gina, focusing his attention back to the TV.

"Who cares, who cares?" Gina snatches up the TV remote as he goes to reach for it from their coffee table, which doubles as their only table. "The last lady was a creep and she was terrible at her job. At least I like you. Plus, it's an administrative assistant position, not a secretary."

"Same diff," he says.

Gina shrugs.

"I don't know, I'll think about it." He finally continues, mostly to shut Gina up. But there's a tiny part of him that is maybe, just maybe open to the idea. He might even be eligible for benefits after a while, and he does really need to go to the dentist.

"Don't you want to be part of the Nine Nine family? That's what Charles calls it, god he's embarrassing. Weirdly hot, but embarrassing–you didn't hear that from me though. But Rosa is cool. And Amy's alright, but don't tell her I said that."

"Would I have to call you Officer Linetti at the office?"

"Precinct."

"What?"

"It's called a precinct. And no, you'd have to call me Detective Linetti."

"Wait, you got the promotion?"

Gina nods, almost shyly. Despite being the most confident woman Jake knows, she's never been good at accepting deserving praise. Undeserving praise, maybe. But if it's something she worked for, she tends to downplay herself.

"Congrats Gina, that's huge."

She smiles. A genuine smile–the kind Jake has rarely seen since they hit their teenage years.

"I can't imagine actually meeting everyone–if I did somehow miraculously get the job that is," he muses. "I've heard so much about them, but they're like…sitcom characters to me or something. Like after every shift you come home and update me with the new installment. Oh is that how everyone did it before TV was a thing?"

"As much as I'm a master storyteller, I'm glad we live during the time of TV–I couldn't live without reality TV." Gina says, finally (mercifully) unmuting the TV, right in time for the final credits and commercial break.

"Do I have time to get snacks before Survivor starts?" Jake nods at the commercials playing across the screen.

"If you hurry. Bring chips!" Gina calls after him as Jake jumps over her legs and a pile of her feather boas and his unopened mail and heads into their (mostly clean) kitchen.

For two fatherless kids from Brooklyn, they're doing not too bad at all.

#b99reunionweek #b99 fanfic #brooklyn nine nine #fee writes stuff

[theladyofdeath]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 22}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelby’s blogs! >> @snelbz​​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Cassian was happier than he ever thought he’d be.

Over the past few weeks, he, Nesta, and Nyx had really become their own little family. It seemed that after all the heartache, after all the awkwardness, everything was falling into place. 

Since that night they had slept together, again, Cassian had spent every night with Nesta in her bed, and awoken to her face every morning. 

Cassian had been training his replacement at the bar, and the opening of his bar in Nesta’s restaurant was quickly approaching. 

Perfect.

Everything was going perfectly. 

It was a Saturday and both he and Nesta had off, which meant they got the rarity of spending the entire day together, just the three of them. 

And it was Halloween.

There was a little Halloween carnival going on downtown, just outside of the Rainbow along the Sidra. 

And although Cassian was happier than he ever thought he’d be, he did feel completely and utterly ridiculous as he looked in the mirror and saw his reflection, dressed in the Halloween costume that Nesta had bought for him. 

It could have been worse, he decided, donning the floppy hat it had come with. He didn’t have paint all over his face and he wasn’t dressed as a dog, like Rhys had been the year prior. Just a smidge of eyeliner Nesta had coerced him into letting her put on him. And he may only have one hand, thanks to the “hook” he had to wear, but at least he had a bad ass looking sword.

Even if it was plastic.

Nesta appeared in the doorway, wearing a green dress and matching slippers, complete with white balls of fluff adorning the toes. “You about ready to go, Captain Hook?”

He slowly turned to look at her. “Is it the hair? Hmm? Are you one of those girls where long hair automatically means pirate?”

Nesta raised a brow as she crossed her arms. “Are you complaining?”

Cassian blinked. “These leather pants are so tight that I don’t think my balls are going to survive the day.” 

Nesta’s grin was feral. “I promise to make it up to the boys once we’re back home.”

Cassian’s eyes narrowed. “Tease.” 

“Not a tease,” she crooned. “A promise.”

She gave him a wink before leaving the room and walking down the hall. After a curse about how turned on he now was, Cassian followed. 

At the bottom of the stairs in the living room, Nyx was standing up in his little Peter Pan costume. Cassian laughed, quietly. “You put the poor kid in tights.” 

“He looks adorable!” Nesta hollered, from where she had disappeared in the kitchen. 

Nyx looked at Cassian for a moment, slightly confused, but then recognition lit his eyes and he giggled, reaching up for his uncle. The second Cassian picked him up, Nyx was playing with his floppy hat. 

“Pretty damn cute, alright,” Cassian said, chuckling. “Ready, Nes? Bands start playing soon. A couple of local bands I know will be playing, I think you’ll like them.”

Nesta swept out of the kitchen with a tiny cooler bag full of water, juice, and snacks. “Then let’s get going.” 

After a short ride and a short walk, they entered the carnival and spotted Elain, Azriel, and Seph sitting in the grass, listening to the music. Azriel was dressed as Tigger, Elain was Pooh, and Seph was the cutest Piglet they had ever seen.

Cassian plopped down by Azriel and chuckled. “And I thought my costume was bad.”

Azriel looked over at him. “Shut up, Captain Jack.”

Cassian gasped indignantly. “I’m Captain Hook, you heathen.” He held up his left hand and shook the cheap, plastic hook in his face. “Get your pirates straight.”

The cousins were instantly squealing at each other, Seph having recently started crawling and Nesta couldn’t help but smile down at them as she sat next to Cassian. He slung an arm around her and pulled her into him, kissing the top of her head.

Nesta looked at Elain and caught her small smile, even though she tried to turn away before her older sister caught her. “What?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

Elain shook her head, but that smile was still on her face. “Nothing.”

“Tell me,” Nesta said, leaning forward to see her around Cassian and Azriel.

“It’s just…” Elain blinked and Nesta could’ve sworn she saw tears shimmering in her sister’s eyes. “It’s just nice to see you happy.”

Nesta stilled for a moment. Was she happy? She supposed she was. It had all happened so quickly that Nesta hadn’t hardly realized.

She was happy. 

Judging from his laughter with Azriel, and the way his fingers brushed along her skin, Nesta assumed that Cassian was happy, too.

“It’s a good thing, you know,” Elain whispered, when Nesta said nothing. “A very good thing.”

Nesta remained quiet, but she leaned into Cassian’s side with a little smile of her own.

The music began to play, and Nyx was having the time of his little life. He stood and danced, having no idea what was going on, but loving every second of it.

There were small tents set up around the carnival, passing out candy and other little toys and treats for the kids. Helion was there, at a tent sponsored by Nesta’s restaurant, handing out cookies and brownies she’d spent the past few days baking. Nesta had always loved Halloween, and having Nyx to enjoy it with made her love it all the more. They walked around while the bands continued to play, Nyx’s little bucket filling up with more candy and treats than the little boy could ever eat. Cassian ensured Nesta that it would not go to waste, but she just rolled her eyes.

“You know, I’ve always been a fan of Tinker Bell,” Cassian said, while they were eating candy apples.

Nesta looked at him, brow raised. “Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for Hook.”

Cassian chuckled, looking at Nyx while he nibbled on some goldfish that Nesta had packed in the cooler bag. “And what about Cassian?” Cassian asked. “Are you a fan of him?”

Nesta laughed, softly. “Are you asking me if I like you, Nazari?”

Cassian’s eyes lit with amusement. “I care about you, Nesta. That’s what I’m saying.”

The words she longed to say got stuck in her throat. The truth she’d wanted to tell him since his birthday over a month ago, when they’d finally succumbed to their desire for each other. But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t, not here, not right now, with strangers around them. Elain and Azriel weren’t far, but…

Something about those words. She wanted it just to be the two of them.

So Nesta chose to smirk instead, reaching over and rubbing caramel off his cheek. “You aren’t half bad, I guess.”

He sighed, dramatically, looking up into the sky. “I knew it, you’re only in it for the sex.”

“Cassian!” She blushed furiously, hoping no one had overheard him.

Grinning, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. Nyx threw a goldfish at them, hitting Cassian in the side of the face.

Nesta couldn’t stop her laughter as she pulled back.

Even after a month, Nyx didn’t like Cassian kissing her. The fit he threw the first time he’d seen them kiss on the couch while he was playing with his toys on the floor and they watched a movie would go down in history as the worst meltdown the two of them had seen.

Nesta thought his continued, but lessening, tantrums were hilarious. Cassian could only roll his eyes.

“Was that necessary?” Cassian asked.

“Da,” Nyx said, popping a goldfish into his mouth. It was the closest thing he’d come to yes thus far.

“He used to like me, you know,” Cassian said, looking at Nesta, “before the two of us were together.”

Nesta shrugged. “He’s protective, what can I say?”

“You can say, to him, that you like it when I kiss you,” Cassian replied.

Nesta laughed as Nyx threw another goldfish at Cassian. “He’s smart, Cass. He may be a baby, but he knows you’re talking smack over here.”

“I would never talk smack about a baby,” Cassian said, taking a bite of his caramel apple. “Even if it’s true.”

It wasn’t too much later that Nyx was falling asleep, his little, green cap long forgotten and tucked into the pocket of Cassian’s obnoxious coat. He gently rubbed Nyx’s back as he slept on the blanket they’d laid out on the lush grass. Footsteps and a groan alerted him to Azriel’s presence as he sat down next to Cassian. Seph, in a carrier strapped to his chest, had been asleep for nearly an hour already. Cassian couldn’t help but smile at his brother and niece.

“So you two are actually making this work, huh,” Azriel said, smiling down at Nyx.

Cassian’s laughter sounded as if even he had a hard time believing it. “I guess so. It’s just…so easy with her.”

“I get it. I completely get it,” Azriel said, looking at something over Cassian’s shoulder, and from the way his eyes softened, he knew his brother’s gaze had found Elain.

“I think she feels the same way,” Cassian said. “She’s hard to read, though. Easier than she used to be - thank the Mother - but sometimes… I just want to grab her by the shoulders and ask her what the hell is on her mind.” 

Azriel snorted. “Nesta is…”

When he didn’t complete his sentence, Cassian raised an amused brow.

“An interesting woman,” Azriel finished, at last.

Cassian laughed, quietly. “Yeah, she is. But, that’s what I like about her. She’s not a surface-level person, you know? She’s like an onion.”

Azriel blinked. “An onion?”

Cassian nodded. “A lot of layers.” 

Azriel laughed, quietly. “I would keep that one to yourself. Not sure how Nesta would feel about being called a vegetable that makes you cry.” 

Cassian chuckled, and shrugged. “I think it sounds nice.”

Azriel grinned and looked down at Seph. “Do you see it working out long term, then?”

“You make it sound like a legal document,” Cassian replied, snorting.

Azriel shook his head. “Fine. I’ll ask it simpler, then. Do you love her?”

He hesitated. “It’s only been a month.”

“And?” Azriel asked. “You’ve lived together for half a year. You've known her for over five years.”

Cassian was quiet. He contemplated Azriel’s question, watching the gentle rise and fall of Nyx’s breathing. “I don’t know.”

“You still think Rhys and Feyre didn’t know what they were doing when they set you up all those years ago?”

Looking up at Azriel, Cassian wasn’t expecting to find him smiling softly. “I still think they were bat shit insane,” he chuckled. “But… No. I get it now. They… They just wanted to give us the chance to be as happy as they were.”

“And are you?” Azriel asked, curiosity on his face.

Cassian looked around, finding Nesta laughing with Elain and Mor and Emerie and Gwyn. The smile as he watched her wasn’t faked. “Yeah. I am.”

Azriel’s smile was as genuine as his own. “Then I think you know.”

*

It had been a good day, and an even better night. 

Nyx fell asleep in his carseat on the way home, and Nesta had gotten him out of his costume and into a fresh diaper and pajamas without him hardly stirring. After that, when Nesta meandered into her bedroom, she found a half-dressed pirate with a mischievous glint in his eye. He had made a show of taking Nesta’s costume off with his hook, which had her unable to stop the wide smile, the giggling, that escaped her control. 

It was all sweet, adorable play until his lips found her skin, and then Nesta’s giddiness faded away as complete euphoria took control of her body. 

They laid together as Halloween faded away and November 1st approached. Nesta’s fingers danced over his bare chest. 

“Today was a fun day,” she said, quietly, as she watched her fingers move along his tattoos. 

“It was,” he murmured, already half asleep, his arm wrapped around her, tucking her into his side. He had spent most of his day chasing down Nyx, while Nesta had watched, a smile on her face, as Elain took picture after picture. She’d promised to email the best ones to Nesta as soon as she’d edited them.

She could tell Cassian was exhausted as she looked up into his handsome face, the eyeliner still smudged under his eyes. Sensing her gaze on him, he cracked an eye open and looked at her. “What?”

She shook her head, laying it back down on his chest. “You still have make-up on,” she chuckled.

“What?” He asked. “You don’t think I look pretty?”

Snorting, she nestled into his warm body, settling as his calloused fingers scraped over bare waist. She felt his lips press against the top of her head and in that moment, she realized that this was how it was supposed to be. Nothing had ever felt as…right as this did. As being with him did.

“Cass?”

He grunted in answer, and Nesta realized he was just about asleep.

She decided not to reveal the bit of truth she’d been about to, not when he very well might not remember it the next day.

Instead, she settled her head back on his chest, and said, “I had fun today.”

He mumbled something that sounded like me too, but within seconds, his breath had evened out, and he was asleep.

She wouldn’t reveal that bit of herself, not tonight. But tomorrow…

Tomorrow, she would tell him.

And she prayed he felt the same way.

*

It was hardly after eight when Nesta woke up and found Cassian beside her, in bed, with a sleeping Nyx on his chest. He was scrolling through his phone, his back propped up against the headboard, his sweatpants nearly blending into the navy blue comforter. 

Nesta blinked a few times before she yawned and said, “Good morning.”

Cassian’s eyes darted away from his phone, to her. He smiled. “Good morning. Little man woke up about an hour ago. Fell asleep again five minutes ago or so. Apparently he got worn out yesterday.”

Nesta chuckled. “I’d say so.”

“I was going to put him in his crib but he seems comfortable,” Cassian said. “I can, though, if you want me to make breakfast.”

Nesta shook her head as she propped herself up on her elbows. “That’s okay. I can make breakfast. I was in a french toast type of mood.” 

“Sounds good,” Cassian crooned, and Nesta reached up to kiss him, softly, before dragging herself out of bed. After slipping on some cozy shorts and one of Cassian’s oversized t-shirts, she was headed downstairs. 

Sunday mornings were her favorite, nowhere for either of them to be. Just time together and time with Nyx. She was humming quietly to herself after she’d made a pot of coffee, pulling what she needed to make French toast and bacon out of the fridge when there was a sudden knock on the front door.

Nesta froze, listening to ensure she had in fact heard—

Another knock, just as insistent as the first.

“Was that the door?” Cassian was carrying Nyx downstairs, the baby’s pacifier barely staying in his mouth as he sleepily leaned his head on his uncle’s bare shoulder.

“Yeah,” she replied, eyebrows furrowing as she reached the door and opened it.

Nesta froze as she found Alis Birch on the other side.

“Ms. Archeron, good morning,” she said, eyeing her choice of attire.

“Ms. Birch, good morning. What a surprise,” she said, trying not to panic.

“I hope it’s a good time,” she said, looking past Nesta to see what chaos she could find. “This is the last of my surprise visits.”

“I see,” Nesta said, then cleared her throat as she stepped aside. “Come in, please.”

Alis did not need to be told twice. She swept past Nesta and into the foyer, where Cassian caught sight of her. He stopped as their eyes met, and he hesitated.

“Ms. Birch,” he said, as if it were a pleasant surprise. “Nice to see you again.”

“You too,” she said, looking at Nyx. “Big Halloween, was it?”

“Fun Halloween,” Cassian corrected. “We were at the carnival downtown for most of the day. He had a blast.”

Alis nodded, but said no more.

“Have a seat,” Nesta said, gesturing to the living room furniture. “Please.”

Alis sat in a chair while Cassian carefully and slowly sat back on the couch, Nesta sitting beside him.

Before anyone could say anything else, Alis said, “The two of you have become intimate.” 

Nesta swallowed roughly while Cassian could only blink. After a moment, she collected herself. “I—We…”

“It’s fairly recent,” Cassian admitted, taking over when it was clear Nesta was floundering.

She wanted to demand how she could tell, but she was very clearly wearing his shirt while he wore nothing at all, aside from his sweats. They were cooking breakfast while the baby dozed. It was all so…domestic.

Alis would have been blind not to notice it.

She hummed once before opening her notebook and scribbling a few notes down. “The two of you have come a long way in a few months then, since you were barely even friends the last time I was here.” She threw Nesta’s own half-drunk words into their faces.

“Things have changed,” she breathed, yearning to reach over and take Cassian’s hand, but not wanting to look weak in front of the woman.

The woman who controlled whether or not they’d be keeping Nyx.

“So, this is not a fling, then?” Alis asked.

Cassian opened his mouth, but it was Nesta who politely said, “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure how our romantic life is an appropriate topic-.”

“Oh, it is most appropriate,” Alis assured them both. “If this is nothing but a fling, it could create a lot of drama in the home, which could in turn affect Nyx’s well being. However, if this is love, something that will become steadier day by day, then I could not be more overjoyed.”

You don’t sound overjoyed, Nesta wanted to say, but didn’t. 

“We are aware that everything we do affects Nyx,” Cassian said, not unkindly. “We thought it through before we decided to get together.”

Nesta almost wanted to laugh. Thought it through? They hooked up twice, and the second time it stuck. She wasn’t sure that was exactly thinking it through. In fact, there hadn’t been much thinking at all.

It just kind of...happened. 

Nyx had indeed lost his pacifier at some point and patted Cassian on the cheek.

“Babababa,” he chanted, which the two of them had learned meant he wanted his bottle and Cassian stood.

“Excuse me, I’ll be back,” he said, carrying Nyx into the kitchen.

Alis held Nesta’s stare, eventually asking, “Does Nyx have a support system, outside of the home?”

She blinked. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

Alis set down her pen and looked at Nesta as if she were the child in this situation. “Let’s say things don’t last. Let’s say whatever is between you and Mr. Nazari isn’t a love match and it falls apart. Aside from the two of you, does Nyx have other people who could step in to take care of him?”

“I don’t see why he would need it,” she replied, her voice cold. “Even if things don’t work out, Cassian and I will still take care of him. Nyx is our responsibility now. We love him.”

“And will you do that from one home?”

“We… I…” Nesta shook her head. “Ma’am, with all due respect, we haven’t even had time to figure out what exactly this is between us.”

Alis scooped up her bag and tucked her notebook against her chest as she stood. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. And I’d like the two of you to have that figured out before my next visit. I’ll reach out a few days before, so you can expect me. But I’d like this…” She gestured around her, “situation to be more straightforward before I return.”

She turned and headed for the door.

When Cassian came back, Alis was gone. He blinked, Nyx now awake, downing his milk. “Where’d she go?”

“She left,” Nesta said, quietly. “She’ll let us know when she’s coming next time.”

Cassian’s brows furrowed as he sat next to Nesta on the couch. “What’s wrong?”

Nesta hesitated, then said, “I think she thinks that us getting together is a mistake.”

Cassian looked at Nesta for a moment, then snorted. “She also thought that us living together, unromantically, and raising Nyx was a mistake.” 

Nesta said nothing as she watched her hands, quietly.

Cassian’s smile faded away. “What? You don’t think us getting together is a mistake, right?”

“No, of course not,” Nesta said, but it lacked passion.

Cassian watched her. “Nesta.”

“She brings up some good points, Cass,” Nesta breathed.

Cassian’s jaw ticked. “What does that mean?”

Nesta closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Well, what if we don’t work out? What will happen? We should at least have a plan.”

“You don’t think we’re going to work out?” Cassian asked. 

“I don’t even know what we are, Cassian,” she breathed, opening her eyes, but continued staring at her hands. “Am I your girlfriend? Are we exclusive? Is this just what’s convenient for us both?”

Cassian was staring at her, unable to think of anything to say, barely able to understand what had happened in the past thirty minutes since he’d gotten out of bed. “This sure as hell isn’t just about convenience, not for me. But if it is for you, I guess I’d like to know now.”

She still didn’t look at him. “I don’t know, Cass.”

He had no idea what to say, no idea what to do. He shook his head. “I’m going to take Nyx on my jog with me. When we get back, you let me know if this is still convenient for you.”

His voice was colder than she’d heard it in months, barely recognized it as he silently made his way up the stairs. She didn’t move, could hardly think as she heard him get changed and then dress Nyx as well. 

Her face fell into her hands.

This isn’t how she wanted the morning to go.

As she laid in bed with him the night before, listening to the steady beating of his heart after he fell asleep, she had a long list of things she wanted to say to him today, had a long list of emotions she wanted him to feel.

Pissed wasn’t one of them.

Unsure wasn’t one of them.

Nothing was going as planned.

It wasn’t until Cassian was carrying a babbling Nyx back down the stairs that Nesta looked up. Cassian wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Cass-,” she began, but he strode through the living room and out the door, the door closing just a little too hard behind him.

No, this wasn’t how she wanted the day to go.

She didn’t get to tell Nyx goodbye.

She didn’t get to tell Cassian goodbye, or any of the other things she had planned.

But maybe it was for the best. Maybe things would continue to fall into place, just not the place that she had planned.

Nesta sat back on the couch, her face falling back into her hands.

As the first tear fell, she wondered if this was a part of Feyre’s plan. 

#nessian #fanfic #snacmc collab #snacmc lawki #nesta #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #fanfiction #modern au

[aerinsfables]

Never Have I Ever

The Fablehaven gang plays Never Have I Ever. Not really shippy, but will tag for relevant ships.

---

“Never have I ever become an albino courtesy of a revenant,” Seth announced. His face expressed glee as Warren and Tanu each lowered one finger in response. He was down to three fingers left, himself, and Kendra thought he seemed determined to remain in the game.

“Well, never have I ever held Vasilis,” Tanu retorted. The smile dropped off of Seth’s face as he lowered one of his remaining fingers with a quiet ‘nooo’, and Kendra laughed a little as she also lowered one of hers.

“Never have I ever broken my leg by jumping off a roof,” Dale said, which prompted Warren to roll his eyes and lower another finger. 

“It’s hard to play this game with people you actually know,” Warren protested. “I was nine at the time, yes it was a stupid choice, thank you for reminding me, now let me think for a minute.” He tapped his chin with the side of his hand and seemed to think for a moment. “Never have I ever… had a body double,” he said as he winked at Kendra, who stuck her tongue out at him and lowered one of her fingers. She had the most points left in the group thus far, so she’d been expecting some targeted statements, but still.

“That’s a cheap shot,” she said as she clicked her tongue in disapproval.

He shrugged. “Hey. There’ve been three of you. It’s not my fault that you’re the only one here who’s experienced that.”

“It’s not as fun as you’d think it is,” she replied.

“My turn,” Vanessa said. “Never have I ever spoken with the Fairy Queen.”

Seth let out a loud, “HA!” and gave Vanessa a high five. Warren applauded. Kendra sighed as she placed another finger down. Bracken followed suit as well. “Clever,” he said, sarcasm laced in his tone.

“Always,” Vanessa responded. “It’s your turn, Kendra.”

Well. Two can play at this game, Kendra thought. And, really, she’d meant for her next statement to be a jibe at Warren and Vanessa anyway.

“Never have I ever been engaged to marry anyone,” she said with confidence.

She’d expected the narrowed eyes from Warren and Vanessa as they each lowered a finger. She’d expected Seth’s guffaws and Tanu and Dale’s smiling eyes.

She had not expected for Bracken to lower one of his fingers, too.

Kendra turned her attention to the young man to her immediate left, who cleared his throat in an obvious - and vain - attempt to move the conversation forward, his face a lovely shade of pink. “Excuse me?” she asked, probably sounding about as shocked as she actually was. She wasn’t the only surprised one, though. Seth shouted, “What?!” at the same time that Warren announced it was story time while positively everyone’s eyes turned to Bracken, whose face flushed a darker shade of pink.

Bracken opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsuccessful at producing any words. “I… it was a long time ago, and an accident,” he said. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“How do you accidentally get engaged to someone?” Dale asked. One eyebrow was pointed upward, and he appeared to be rethinking his entire opinion of the young man in question.

Kendra, for her part, was speechless. She didn’t know what to think. It was most definitely story time indeed.

“I… there was… it was…” Bracken cleared his throat again and scratched the back of his head, his gaze firmly fixed upon the table in front of him. “I was younger then. Still getting used to human socialization, still wandering between the wilderness and civilization. I’d decided to spend some time closer to towns, was low on human currency, and desired to reside inside an inn for a time. There were people in the street who advertised a sword-fighting competition, which offered a cash reward, so I decided I’d participate.”

Still unsure of what to think, Kendra furrowed her eyebrows. Where was this going? 

“I’ve… I’m good with swords. The competition wasn’t particularly difficult to win, although the last human I faced that specific day was quite skilled. I digress. I won the contest, was given a large sum of money in a very nice bag, and was also told at that moment that I’d won the hand of the local princess.” 

His face burned red. Kendra didn’t know whether to laugh or smack him upside the head. Maybe both? She refrained from reacting for the moment.

Seth, however, was not so well-controlled. He laughed heartily.

“‘The local princess’? When was this?” Warren asked.

“Shhh, he’s still telling the story,” Tanu said. “I want to hear this. Wish we had some popcorn.”

Bracken looked like he was marching toward his death. “A long, long time ago,” he said, “Somewhere in Ireland. Her name was Aoife MacMurrough.”

“So… did you marry her?” Dale asked.

His eyes grew large. “No!” he nearly shouted. He made eye contact with Kendra, who found it awkward to look at him right at that moment, so she diverted her attention to her hands, which still displayed the five points she’d managed to maintain.

“I tried to tell them that I thought this was a competition solely for money, and that I wasn’t interested in marriage, but the king and his vassals wouldn’t take no for an answer. The rules were apparently clear, although they’d somehow flown over my head. I snuck out of town that night and stayed far away from humans for quite a long time after that. I never found out what happened. Of course, I’d also fled to Greece and other countries and did not return to Ireland for a couple hundred years, but that’s a different story.” He reached toward Kendra and lightly touched her shoulder. “I don’t even know what Princess Aoife looked like.”

“How did you not know that you would wind up promised in marriage to a princess?” Vanessa asked, disbelief and disapproval very much evident in her statement. “Did you not listen to the rules? Did the people announcing the competition not make that clear? How is it possible to enter into a contest like that and not know what you’re fighting for?” 

Kendra didn’t entirely appreciate the tone of voice Vanessa used, but she was incredibly grateful that her friend had been able to voice even just some of the questions she had on her own mind.

Bracken narrowed his eyes. “I was new to Gaelic, and it was mostly still a spoken language at that point in time,” he replied. “I still don’t know how I missed that bit of information. I blame my empty stomach and longing for a soft bed to sleep in for the night.”

“He was - he was hangry,” Seth said, then rolled off into laughter again. Warren and Tanu joined in a bit as well, the earlier looking up something on his phone.

“It was a poor decision. I know. Go ahead and laugh,” Bracken stated. He once again reached for Kendra. “I’m sorry,” he said in a quiet voice.

Sorry for what? Why should he be sorry? Should she be upset? Did she have a right to be upset? Was she upset? All of those questions and more buzzed about in Kendra’s brain, but she refrained from voicing any of them. 

“Wait. Aoife MacMurrough?” Warren asked, his eyes practically bulging out of his head.

“Yes…?” Bracken responded.

Warren chuckled as he read from his phone. “Red Aoife. Married off by Saint Patrick himself. Warrior princess. That Aoife?”

“I don’t know!” Bracken insisted at the same time that Tanu said, “Saint Patrick, huh?” 

“Bracken almost married a leprechaun?!” Seth cried out before yet more raucous laughter escaped from his body.

Dale spoke next, after a brief pause to allow for excess joviality from the company who sat around the table.

“Well. That is an odd circumstance,” he said. “I’ve bailed Warren out of quite a few odd circumstances over the years, but never anything like that. Right, Warren?”

Warren laughed. “Nope.”

“Alright then. I think my next move is to say, never have I ever been accidentally engaged to marry someone,” Dale continued. He innocently blinked at Bracken a few times, who looked dumbfounded and then lowered another finger.

“I’m never going to live this down, am I?” he asked.

Everyone shook their heads while Kendra finally reacted in laughter. The rest of the table followed after her example.

“Are you upset with me?” he asked her.

Kendra let laughter take over her body for a minute, then wiped a tear from one of her eyes. “Upset?” she asked as more giggles escaped from her lips. “Bracken. You are the only person I know who could have done that.” Giggles. Somehow, this didn’t seem out of character for him. The poor, oblivious unicorn. 

“What other secrets are you hiding?!” Seth demanded.

Bracken folded his arms across his chest and refused to entertain that particular train of thought. “Nope. One story is enough for tonight,” he said. “Come on. Surely all of you have made poor decisions in your young lives as well.”

“Sure, but I never wound up promising myself to someone else by accident,” Vanessa shot back.

Bracken only rolled his eyes at that comment. “I believe it was my turn, next, before Dale stole it from me,” he said as he leveled Vanessa with a cool glare. “Never have I ever controlled someone in their sleep.”

Vanessa ran out of fingers at that one. “Very funny.”

“Always,” he retorted, copying her tone of voice from earlier on in the evening.

Kendra opened her mouth to interrupt them before they could launch into one of their infamous arguments, but Tanu beat her to the punch.

“Never have I ever been near Zzyzx,” he said.

Everyone else at the table groaned and lowered a finger, except Dale, who simply smiled. Warren ran out of points, Seth only had one left, Bracken had two, Tanu and Dale were each down to three, and Kendra still held onto four.

“Your turn again, Seth,” Tanu said once the damage had been assessed.

“Never have I ever… um…” he looked at his sister. “Never have I ever written letters to a dragon prince.”

Kendra could feel her face grow warm as she lowered a finger. “Warren and Vanessa are out, so it’s my turn,” she announced.

“A dragon prince?” Bracken asked. This time, his eyebrows were raised in surprise.

“I knew him as Gavin in his human form,” she said with a sigh. “He was actually Navarog.”

If Bracken’s eyes could have grown larger, Kendra was sure that they would have at that statement. “Excuse me?” he asked, in much the same tone as she’d asked him earlier. “I feel that another story time is in order.”

“Nah, we all know that story already,” Warren announced. “You two talk about that one between yourselves later. It’s Kendra’s turn now.”

“But-“

“Never have I ever drank an enlargement potion,” Kendra interrupted.

Bracken narrowed his gaze at her, but dropped the subject. For the moment.

Tanu lowered one finger. “Ouch, Kendra. I feel like I’ve been singled out.”

“Sorry, Tanu,” she replied with a smile.

Bracken huffed. “Never have I ever been duped by a demon dragon,” he stated.

He was astonished to find that everyone except Dale put their fingers down. Seth ran out of points, Tanu had one left, Kendra was down to three, and Dale and Bracken were still at two.

“All of you?!” he asked.

Dale shrugged his shoulders. “I never met the guy,” he said. “They all went adventuring with him.”

“Except me,” Vanessa elaborated. “I probably would’ve caught on if I had been there, though.”

“Let’s not start this up,” Warren said at the same time that Dale announced, “Never have I ever been in prison.”

Just like that, Tanu was out of points, Kendra had two, and Bracken had only one left.

“Never have I ever been trapped in a barn,” Kendra said. Dale laughed and lowered a finger. One left.

“Never have I ever had coffee,” Bracken said. 

“Really?” Dale asked as he ran out of points. “Never?”

“Not once,” Bracken replied. 

“How-?”

“You were in prison when coffee as a drink was invented, weren’t you?” Kendra laughed.

Bracken’s ears turned pink. “Maybe,” he admitted.

“You’re getting a cup in the morning,” Dale vowed. “I’ll make it for you.”

“Thanks…?” Bracken asked, sounding unsure whether or not he even cared. He turned toward Kendra, who still had two points left. “No coffee for you?”

She shook her head. “I don’t like the smell.”

“Who doesn’t like the smell of coffee?” Dale asked, sounding utterly flabbergasted.

“Kendra,” Seth, Warren, Tanu and Vanessa all replied in unison.

Dale stared straight at Kendra, who laughed when he whispered with so much melodrama that he could only be Warren’s brother, “But. You were my favorite.”

“Hey!” Warren protested. “I’m your favorite!”

“Well, you might be now,” Dale said. His gaze turned back toward Kendra. “How can you not like coffee? Coffee is life.”

“I… I didn’t realize you liked it so much,” Kendra replied.

“The way into Dale’s heart is a healthy serving of coffee every morning,” Vanessa said.

“She makes the best coffee ever,” Dale confirmed. “No other woman will ever take her place.”

Kendra wasn’t sure what was happening. This game was getting ridiculous. Whose turn was it, anyway? She recounted the latest movies and realized that this game was down to just her and Bracken, he only had one point, and it was her turn. 

She smirked. “Bracken,” she began.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Never have I ever won a sword-fighting competition,” she announced.

Bracken lowered his pinky, while Kendra waved her two remaining fingers in his face. “I win!” she taunted.

“That’s not fair,” he playfully complained.

“Totally fair,” Warren insisted.

“I lost three points from one story!” he exclaimed.

Seth shrugged. “It be like that sometimes.”

“Kendra survives the night,” Tanu stated. “Now we all know who to target in the next round.”

Vanessa raised her eyebrows in a somewhat threatening manner which made Kendra wonder what other embarrassing material was going to be paraded about that evening. She looked around to find similar expressions on most everyone else’s faces, too, and laughed when she realized that she would be running out of points very quickly. “No repeats from this round,” she said.

“That’s fine with me,” Tanu said. Everyone else nodded and voiced their agreement.

“Great! I’ll go first!” Seth announced. “Never have I ever run away from a fiancée!”

Bracken planted his face into the palm of his hand while everyone at the table enjoyed a solid laugh.

#fablehaven #aerinm writes #warrenessa #brackendra #again this isn't really shippy so don't come at me with protests about how it's not fluffy enough lol #have some nonsense #it's been a while hahahaha