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zer0expektation · 1 year

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I rewatched Loki (and got progressively angrier), here are the highlights:

(featuring my queer analysis/rewrites hehe)

Episode 1

22:03 - “if looks could kill” Mobius ab and to Loki

22:05 - “What do you want from me?” “Well, let's start with a little cooperation.” “Not my forte” “really? Even when you’re wooing someone powerful you intend to betray? Come on.” Mobius and Loki - GAY

24:35 - “I am smart.” “I know.” “okay…” “.. okay” actual weirdos

Episode 2

5:13 - Loki ‘reading’ Mobius’s jet ski magazine hehehehe

14:03 - “Look, I know you have a soft spot for broken things.” Ravonna to Mobius as he talks about why he should be allowed to keep Loki alive

16:30 - Loki adjusting Mobius’s tie as he talks about how ‘adorable’ it is that Mobius thinks he can manipulate him, because hes a freak

24:34 - “Loki, i've studied almost every moment of your entire life” Mobius literally what is with you

24:53 - Pompeii scene my beloved

Episode 3

7:16 - “don't ever call me that” “Tech savvy?” “no, a Loki.” Sylvie and Loki silly funny sibling behaviour

22:15 - “You’re a prince. Must’ve been would-be-princesses or perhaps, another prince.” “A bit of both. I suspect the same as you.” ah the beloathed line that haunts my nightmares

31:28 - “y’know, i feel like i've told you so much about me, i really don't know the first thing about you.” yeah ‘cause there is LITERALLY NOTHING TO LEARN ABOUT HER Sylvie is so badly written it actually kills me

Episode 4

7:26 - “like me being born the Goddess of Mischief” - Sylvie is arrested by the TVA for having been born a girl, and presumably that later meaning that if she wanted to she could become a Valkyrie if she wanted to - which i'm fairly certain it's mentioned that Loki wanted to be a Valkyrie when he was younger. This is actually so fucking stupid. The file on our Loki variant states that they were born with a “fluid” sex (whatever the fuck that means), and we are to assume that a lot of parts of variants are intrinsically the same between each other, so you’d assume that Sylvie would also be born with a “fluid” sex

10:07 - Loki and Sylvie are finally bonding by discussing what “makes a Loki a Loki” and Loki insisting that its their collective ability to survive - of course they have to be fucking weird about it which causes a Nexus event, because plot i guess

11:00 - i hate that we don't get to actually see Loki and Sylvie get picked up

12:39 - isn't it a little fun, a little silly, that the bad memory Loki is stuck in is Sif saying “I hope you know you deserve to be alone and you always will be”

17:17 - it's interesting however that it doesn't really hit for Loki until after hes admitted that he does things for attention because he's scared of being alone - BUT i don't like that that is probably reason that the writers had for him falling for Sylvie, him thinking that because she is like him that she has similar fears and thus wouldn't do something to lose that companionship, rather instead it would have been interesting in its use to how Loki has inexplicably grown attached to Mobius of all people (especially because it is immediately followed by Mobius coming in)

15:27 - “aren’t you supposed to be interrogating your variant pet?” r15 to Mobius

19:11 - “I'm going to miss these little tete-a-tetes.” “Me too.” mocking from Mobius, a bit more genuine from Loki

20:59 - “you like her.” Mobius to Loki about Sylvie - im going to kill myself

22:14 - “your female self” good god im going to drown myself its so bad - neither Loki nor Sylvie should be considered a male or female version of the other, because they are both NEITHER male or female, they are both “fluid” in sex - the writers clearly did not know, nor give a fuck about the queerness of Loki and the character it actually makes me want to tear my own head off

34:26 - okok, i think it's fun and a little silly that Loki has a big reaction to Mobius being pruned, one that's harder for him to conceal than the one when he's told that Sylvie’s been pruned - but also, a bit nitpicky here i know, it's really dumb that he's just standing there, he doesn't even try to reach out to Mobius to move him out of the way or anything

41:18 - the “No, i have to tell you something” & “back on lamentis…. This is new for me.” & grabbing Sylvie’s shoulders - clearly supposed to set up the idea that Loki has some-fucking-how fallen for Sylvie (which is dumb as even worse written than most straight relationships) and wants to tell her now? For some reason? HOWEVER, it could have so easily been (and would have been better) instead, him trying to tell her that he trusts her and sees her as a partner in crime and a friend. Because that's the whole thing, right? Loki is scared of being alone, and yet doesn't do friends, and doesn't do partners, because he knows that he will always be alone anyways. The nexus event is him finding solace in the fact that he will die beside a friend rather than alone like he's always known he would. But nooo selfcest is definitely better than meaningful friendships, why dont you fucking kill me for thinking otherwise. Anyways he gets pruned here anyways so L Loki, fucking loser.

Episode 5

Unrelated but where the hell did the Lokis get their clothes - like, i get Sylvie because shes been fucking off all over the timeline for a long time, but everyone in the void? Why do they have their clothes

Again it seriously kills me that Sylvie has no character - no likes, no goals outside of destroying the TVA, no self-reflection, she's the woman character that is smarter and cooler than her male counterparts because they need to be looked after in order to not be killed

Another note on this, we can get a vague idea of what Loki will want when everything is over - he jokes about wanting to rule an entire universe/timeline, but in reality everyone knows he will just want to go somewhere where he's cared about and seen as equal, somewhere where he won't be alone - but we don't know what Sylvie will want, we cant even conceive an idea, because all we know is that she wants the TVA and whoever controls it gone, and we can assume that she wanted to be a valkyrie when she was little, but we know literally nothing else about her, so we have to assume either her and Loki are going to figure out their paths together, or that she will go off to figure it out on her own and we won't hear or see her again until she has a dumb cameo I think i would respect how little we know about Sylvie if it were a “i've spent so much of my life surviving and fixated on this one thing that i haven't had time to figure out who i am as a person and what i like and what i want after its all over”, but we never get anything like this, at least in any kind of depth that would make it good The Strong Woman trope is what I was looking for

16:04 - “Have any of you met a woman variant of us?” “Sounds terrifying.” i'm going to bash my head against the wall until my brains are crawling out the other side

Whoo president Loki, aka the only version of Loki selfcest i can stand behind, because at least commit to the bit if you're gonna do it

The one black Loki is the overly aggressive one that betrays everyone first, because what else should we expect from hollywood. Fucks sake

I do adore that the Lokis have so easily adopted Mobius within their little group and how good he is at understanding all of them

30:18 - “Mobius isn't so bad” “or so good. I think that's why we get along.” “he cares about you” Sylvie and Loki

okay, I'm not saying that they should have made Mobius the love interest, however I absolutely am saying that. I personally think that would be far more compelling than the selfcest plot, it wouldn't be out of nowhere like i'm sure some may argue because so much of this show was spent on showing that Mobius is the only person that's been able to truly understand Loki and get a good read on them and Loki views him as a friend despite it all, on the other hand i think the selfcest plotline is absolutely out of nowhere, but its not viewed as such because its portrayed as straight and thus expected, they have little to no romantic chemistry, they have had very very very few scenes where they are interacting positively with each other that aren't surrounded with the fact that they are working together because they have the same goal and are trying to survive and most of those interactions are sandwiched between arguing. I just think this scene could have easily been about Loki acknowledging that he cares about Mobius in a way that he doesn't think he has anyone else before, Sylvie could make a call back to her mailman, and then Loki can go quiet and amongst that have the blanket thing w/o the strange glances and awkward pauses and then they can discuss betrayal and what they want to do once everything is all over

31:48 - “i dont have friends. I don't have… anyone.” Sylvie - well now you do because thats all that this will be right? :D ← the face of denial

36:47 - “looks like you got away in the end” Mobius to Loki - you are a homosexual

37:09 - the lokius hug & Loki’s face before it

40:48 - “I don't know how” “you do, because we’re the same.” Loki and Sylvie - well you dont fucking say! Gee golly! Who woulda thunk it? Certainly not me, Mr. sylkie-is-selfcest-no-matter-how-you-twist-it. Good god I hate this stupid show.

Episode 6

I hate this show so so much, but i do really like when the silly mascot character that is kind of overlooked as comedic relief turns out to be a vessel for the villain, or at least are more sinister than they first seemed and they just become kind of uncanny and unsettling

I also really like immortal characters that have been alive for so long that they are truly exhilarated by their end

33:45 - Loki having a “no stop, this isn't you ;(” moment is so funny

34:56 - the grossest moment of the show. Selfcest, ladies and gentlemen!

35:12 - i feel like it is very important to note that sylvie saying “but i'm not you” here, is NOT her denying that her and Loki are the same, just that the experience and feeling that Loki is expressing is not shared

39:49 - “Who are you? What's your name?” Mobius to Loki - sobs it's so upsetting i can't do this - imagine how much more tragic this scene would've been if Mobius was set up as the love interest shm my head stupid fucking show

End :))))

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littlejuicebox · 4 months

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My Sun, My Moon

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: 6 months post BG3 / Part 2 to my other fic Astarion talks in his sleep. Rating/Warnings: PG-13 / In game spoilers / Alludes to sexual encounters / Mentions of past trauma etc / Pretty much all fluff / It’s so sweet it’s going to rot your teeth Word Count: 2.3K Notes: This is 5/5 Days of "Star-mas!"

*takes a bow* Happy Holidays! Hope you all enjoyed!

I'm also entering this into the #BG3HolidayFluffle23 challenge under the prompt "twinkling lights."

Click here to see my master list.

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After Astarion’s sleep-talking gave away his little secret, you’d spent nearly every waking moment anticipating the rogue’s proposal. You were horribly, terribly wrong every time, of course. You began to think that perhaps your original assumptions were right, and that an engagement would come much later on. Maybe he wasn’t quite ready. Maybe he was just planning and thinking about the future… the frustratingly distant future. He’d ask the question when he was ready, you reasoned; in his own time and on his own terms. You could respect that.

But then, on the eve of the Netherbrain Battle’s six month anniversary, you came home to a dinner that Astarion had cooked (almost) entirely himself. Candles were lit, table settings were placed, and your lover chose an expensive wine pairing for the meal. His steak was, of course, entirely raw while yours was seasoned and cooked to perfection. You were certain you had Shadowheart to thank for your half of the meal, but you’d complimented your lover and all his efforts, nonetheless. At the end of dinner, you were quite confident that this would be the moment you’d been waiting weeks for.

“I have something to say.” Astarion murmured, lithe fingers rubbing circles on the back of your hand as he clasped it in his own.

You practically felt your soul leave your body in that moment. Oh gods, you knew what your answer would be, you knew this was coming, and yet here it was, and you were still wholly unprepared. You barely fumbled out a, “Y-yes, my love? What is it?”

“I read your mail.” Astarion responded, his eyes flooding full of guilt at the confession. He expelled a small sigh, flicking his gaze up at the ceiling and then back down to you. “Darling, I know we have been discussing this for months, but I really don’t think we should go to the Underdark. You’re getting so many outstanding offers that require you to remain in the city. You’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate, for god’s sakes. I know you want me to be safe from the sun… but I can’t, in good conscience, do that to you and rip you away from so many wonderful opportunities.”

“O-oh…” Your chest deflates and you catch yourself frowning for just a moment. Astarion’s brow furrows as he incorrectly interprets the cause of your sudden mood shift to be the current conversation and not the crushing disappointment you were trying to shove aside. You quickly try to move into a more neutral expression, but the rogue is already jumping into another worried explanation.

“Darling... Please hear me. I love you more than anything, and I know you better than anyone. You will not be truly happy there, of that much I am absolutely certain. These offers you’re receiving will give you multiple avenues to build the life you want…. the life we want. Imagine the good you could do with that level of influence, my love! Let me help you; I can review contracts, negotiate deals… whatever you need to ensure your success. Do not throw away so much potential on my account. I simply couldn’t live with myself if you did.”

He was right, of course. The only thing you wanted almost as much as you wanted Astarion was to continue the good work you two had been doing for Baldur’s Gate.

You sigh and nod your head, squeezing his hand gently. “You’re right, my love. I suppose it would be silly for both of us to throw away so much opportunity.”

Astarion beamed at your response before leaning over the table to plant a kiss on your lips. You smiled at the rogue when he pulled away to look at you with adoring crimson eyes. Perhaps it hadn’t been the conversation you were hoping for, but it had been a good and much needed one, nonetheless.

-----

Tonight, you and Astarion decided to take a stroll around the city. You were following the vampire’s lead, ambling around the streets as he pointed out more than a few of his old haunts. He revealed some of the difficult moments in his past as you two meandered about… more than one of the tales nearly made you cry with an overwhelm of sympathy for your lover. But you held back, knowing the elf hated eyes full of pity almost as much as he’d hated Cazador.

You noted that Astarion seemed to look back on his experience with more acceptance now. You knew, of course, that there were likely an infinite number of stories he had not yet revealed to you and perhaps never would. But you were still happy to see a bit of lightness in him as he spoke his truth. He hadn’t appeared to have one of his episodes on the entire walk, and as you pondered this, you also realized his night terrors had only occurred a handful of times this month. Such an improvement to what had been an almost daily incidence when you two originally moved in together.

Before long, you and your love arrived at the docks, where just over six months ago you’d felt as if you’d been stabbed in the gut as you watched the rays of sunlight scorch the vampire until he was forced to run for cover. But now, you two stood there hand in hand, resting in a pocket of comfortable silence. Both of you were admiring the twinkling starlight, full moon, and dark, mysterious expanse of the sea.

“The stars were so much more beautiful in the wilds… don’t you think, my sweet?” Astarion asks, his eyes filled with wistfulness as he ponders the sky.

You utter a little hum of agreement as your mind flashes to the first night in camp, when you caught Astarion reclined on his bedroll, stargazing. You turned your head to look at the rogue and remind him of the memory, but found he disappeared from your line of sight. Your vision wanders down and there he is, bent on one knee.

Oh this had to be the moment. Just when you were about to shout yes before the rogue even had a moment to say anything, Astarion looks up and smiles, a small pouch of gold coins in his hand. “Look! I suppose it’s our lucky day, darling. Their loss is our gain, would— are you alright, Tav? You’ve got this strange look on your face.”

Gods, not again. You feel your face flush with embarrassment. In your excitement and overwhelm, you’d almost ruined everything and let Astarion know that you knew his little secret. You made the decision then and there that this would be the last time you anticipated his proposal; let it happen when it’s meant to happen. You were done playing the guessing game. You couldn’t ruin everything with your big fat mouth.

You nod your head slightly before turning to look back at the stars once more, taking a deep breath and hoping to settle yourself.

“Yes, my love. I suppose I’m just thrilled by the beauty of the stars and the full moon, tonight. And by your beauty, of course.”

The rogue stands up, tucking the small sachet in his pocket. He smiles and places a soft, loving peck on the apple of your cheek before wrapping his arm around your waist. The two of you look up at the stars once more, and you spend a few moments pointing out some constellations in the sky. Stargazing had been one of the first things you two bonded over in camp.

Astarion is watching you with devoted interest as you ramble on about the planets and the mythological creatures represented by the patterns in the stars. Finally, there is a small lapse in conversation, and you want to take the opportunity to kiss him, but when you turn, the vampire is once again out of your sight line.

When you look down this time, Astarion is looking up at you, holding a velvet box in shaking hands.

“Tav—" He manages to choke out, but then his eyes fill with tears, and he stops to blink them away, chuckling softly at himself. You immediately come to kneel in front of your love, hands pressed to either side of his face, silently urging him to continue.

The vampire inhales shakily, suddenly quite overwhelmed by the extreme vulnerability he knows he’s about to lay before you. But the softness of your hands on his face grounds him in the moment and he smiles, admiring the look of utter adoration in your eyes.

A couple of tears fall over the edge of his lash line, and you immediately swipe them away with your shaking thumb. Another chuckle escapes the silver-haired elf, and he shakes his head in disbelief.

“My love… I’ve rehearsed this for weeks. I’ve said it all out loud more than a thousand times, I’m sure. I’ve spent almost every opportunity in your absence practicing this. One time I even had Shadowheart pretend to be you while I rehearsed my grand speech. But now that we are here… I’ve nearly forgotten everything I wanted to say.”

You move forward to press a kiss to Astarion’s lips, your hands still shaking as you run your thumb over his cheekbone. “It’s okay, my Star. Please continue, when you’re ready… rehearsed or from the heart… I want to hear it all the same.”

Astarion nods just a fraction and inhales. The shaking hand that is not holding the ring box comes to lay atop your own hand resting on his face. Your love slowly, absently runs his thumb along the back of your palm as he gathers his thoughts. He stares into your eyes with so much love that you almost kiss him again but hold yourself back to allow him to continue.

Astarion exhales a shuddering breath and then continues in a reverent tone, as if he’s whispering a prayer, “My darling. I have lived long life. Much of it was a sad and hopeless one. When we were walking through the city, I pointed out several places where I’d encountered horrible things. Many of those things are still hard to talk about… some of it, I don’t know that I will ever be able to.”

You are crying now, from the overwhelming blend of sympathy for your little Star and palpable feeling of love in this beautiful moment. Tears begin coursing thin streams down your cheeks. Astarion wipes away the tears as they fall, though his lips start trembling from your display of emotion.

“B-but what I do know is that… in many of the places I pointed out, there are also memories of us. Of our friends. Of the time we spent together before saving the city and of the six months we’ve spent here after that. Little by little, we are taking places that only held horrible memories for me and turning them into places that hold feelings of hope and happiness.

I guess what I’m saying is that… these past six months have been the counterweight to two hundred years of misery. And I do not think I deserve you, but I cannot imagine my life without you. You are everywhere I go, everywhere I look, and every happy memory I hold in my heart. If you’ll have me… I would like to spend the rest of our lives, however long they may be, turning this city into a place of hope for us and for the people we hold dear.”

Astarion opens the box, and you gasp in true awe as he reveals possibly the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. At the center is a beautiful moonstone, emitting an ethereal glow that shines brilliantly in the darkness of the pier. The setting is gold, and an intricate sunburst pattern made in smaller gems surrounds the center stone.

“Standing on the dock that day, after that long battle… I had the thought that my life was ruined when I realized I could no longer stand in the sun. I thought I might never know true happiness again. But it turns out, that was the moment my new life with you began… and you’ve opened the door to more happiness than I could’ve ever imagined for myself.

Even if I never see the sun again, I have made my peace. I would make the choices I made to be here with you, on this dock, in this moment, again and again in every lifetime. You are my sun and my moon. And my darling, it would be my honor to be your Star for the rest of time. Tav… will you marry me?”

As soon as the question comes out of your lover’s lips, you instantly push forward to crash into Astarion, enveloping the elf in an emotional kiss. You both topple over from the sheer force of your ardor, and as you do, the vampire deftly snaps the ring box closed to protect it from spilling out onto the dock.

When you finally break away, panting heavily, both your faces are thoroughly flushed with excitement. The vampire looks up at you, scarlet eyes filled with absolute devotion. You giggle and press one more soft kiss to the rouge before taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to his knuckle. “Yes, Astarion. Nothing in this life would make me happier than to share it with you.”

-----

Later that evening, the two of you are naked in bed after several rounds of vigorous celebration. You’re admiring your ring, which is still faintly glowing in the semi-darkness of your bedchambers. Astarion takes your hand and presses his lips to the ring with a small smile; his scarlet eyes closely examine the gem.

“I don’t know how it works… you would have to ask Gale. But the center stone glows when I think of you, you know.”

You blink, moving to touch the gemstone in the middle of the ring with curiosity. “But it hasn’t stopped glowing since we’ve been on the docks.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we’ve been on the docks.” Astarion replies simply, moving his hand to stroke your cheek as a gentle, good-natured laugh escapes his mouth, “Perhaps now you’ll have some insight into how often my thoughts revolve around you, my sweet.”

You feel your eyes welling with tears again. Damn this man and his beautiful heart… he truly never misses a detail when it comes to you. You move forward to pull his lips into another loving kiss, and when you break away this time, a thought crosses your mind.

“Astarion… did you really find that bag of coins on the dock?”

Your lover grins mischievously, his crimson eyes crinkling at the corners as he grabs your ring-clad hand and kisses it once more.

“No, my sweet. But I had to throw you off. Shadowheart told me about my mishap. I wanted to surprise you… but you know me far too well and you’ve never been easily fooled… and the sleepy confession didn’t help things at all. I just figured that you would never anticipate that I’d drop down on one knee twice in a row.”

Astarion knew you just as well as you knew him… and he had been right. He’d fooled you. You roll your eyes and chuckle as the rogue moves closer to you, nuzzling into the side of your neck where fresh fang marks throbbed.

“Now what do you say, darling? One more round of celebration before we go to bed?”

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sunnyvaler · 2 years

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y’all ever experience the smallest thing and just have a breakdown

#just sat on the floor w my cat for 20 minutes crying and pleading him to stop trying to play bc its midnight and i just want to sleep #he of course continued to attempt to play with every chord in my room the entire time #and i just. realized how fucking exhausted i am in general #to go straight from a very stressful exam season to being bombarded with two practically strangers living with us for a week has been Rough #my cat usually isnt allowed in my room bc he Will play with chords or break things but hes been sleeping in my room for days #bc hes too scared to leave my room w these guys in the house and Same Here i dont leave my room unless i have to #and its. so emotionally draining and there’s nothing i can do about it and i cant start to emotionally recover until theyre gone #and thats not for? another day or two #so i have stuff planned over the next few days with family members i can barely stand being around because its more comfortable #than being in my own home and like what the fuck #i moved out to stop feeling trapped but this feels so much worse than living with my mum did and im so stressed out all the time #i dont know them and i dont like them and not being able to walk around in my own house or go to the kitchen fucking sucks #i thought they were gonna be staying at a hotel but i discovered the night they got here that they werent #so its just. all been so much that i was unprepared for #and my cats constant fear and anxiety (and the way they dont care ab it/ignore it) is making me so anxious and stressed #bc i dont want to do anything that makes him anxious or stressed but him being in my room 24/7 is stressing me the fuck out #bc it makes even my room feel Invaded and like. i dont mind the cat being in my room obviously #but he’s in my room AND stressed and jumping around on things he knows hes nto allowed on because he knows i wont kick him out #and i am just about at my fucking limit i shouldnt have to be avoiding existing in my own home #and i shouldnt be feeling stressed and anxious about having to go to the bathroom orkitchen #and its not at all the fault of either of my roommates like. One of them has been brilliant she has but. i dont think the other has noticed #at all that im uncomfortable or that i dont leave my room #i dont think eh cares tbh bc hes the one entertaining the guests all the time so like i dont blame him i just.#its only the guys in the house tonight and i am fucking stressed #i just want them to leave so i can feel at home in my own house again #i think its a big part of why im not here too i am just. constantly overwhelmed and overstimulated by their mere existence #bc they are Loud and i cant even close my bedroom door bc of the cat #im just. fucking exhausted but theres nothing i can do bc i Know im in the wrong for this #bonus round: i think my roommate just let the cat out without a collar on which. only makes me more annoyed and upset i can not win here #anyone else exists in this house rn and i am Annoyed im just so overstimulated and overwhelmed i can not do this

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hard-core-super-star · 4 months

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make you mine this season [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x barton!reader

summary: a badly timed snowstorm leaves you unable to make it to the barton farm for christmas. thankfully, a certain archer shows up to keep you company.

warnings: none, i think? just really cheesy, holiday rom-com type of fluff [i say this as if i've watched any holiday rom-com besides happiest season and the holiday 😶]; kate's a dork [wow, what a shock]; idiots in love; past mentions of bishova; bad jokes?; snowstorm; cheesy gifts bc kate can't talk about her feelings

wordcount: 1.5k

a/n: HI, EVERYONE, I'M ALIVE! and it wouldn't be a rubix fic if it WASN'T posted a little late 😅 i hope you all had a fantastic holiday season and that you'll accept this very cheesy Christmas fic <3 [and maybe that last line is very self-indulgent but that's none of your business, if you know you know]

* * * * * * *

You’re no stranger to loneliness but things were bordering on ridiculous. Not only have you spent the past two years ridiculously in love with a certain purple-loving archer, you’re also on the verge of spending Christmas by yourself thanks to the worst-timed snowstorm of all time.

And maybe the first part of your unfortunate situation is your fault but that doesn’t stop the waves of disappointment from crashing into you.

This year was supposed to be different.

That’s what you had told yourself in an effort to convince yourself to tell the young archer about your feelings for her. It was a strategy that almost worked…until a certain blonde decided to accept Kate’s offer for drinks…which turned into a date…which turned into a second date…which turned into the longest four months of your life.

You could never be one to be mad at someone else’s happiness but that didn’t stop you from feeling absolutely defeated every time you saw them together. There was no one to blame except you for the brunette’s lack of knowledge about your feelings and that only made everything worse.

It was impossible to ignore the ache in your chest when your eyes met Kate’s or the heavy jealousy that clouded most of your interactions with her. Maybe if you had been less into your head about the whole thing, you would have realized the way the archer’s smile never seemed to reach her eyes.

Eyes that followed you every time you walked away.

You never noticed the traces of darkness that clung to her usually radiant persona but you were the first person at her side when the break up happened. She offered little to no details besides an awkward joke about the relationship ending almost exactly where it started right at the Rockefeller tree.

It was messed up in a way that made Kate want to make as many jokes about it as possible which resulted in you laughing at things that definitely weren’t funny and were just sad. Not as sad as spending the holidays completely alone and hopelessly in love with your best friend, though.

You were sure the archer was already well on her way to your dad’s farm which leaves you completely unprepared when the door to your apartment swings open to reveal her. She almost drops the key in her hand the second she realizes you’re home.

“What’re you doing here?” You question, doing your best to pretend you don’t see the gift bags she tries to hide behind her back.

You can practically see the wheels turning in her head before she’s finally able to respond. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at Clint’s?”

It’s hard not to laugh at the incredulous look on her face. No matter how many times you see it, it’s still as endearing as the first time. Back when she was just your dad’s protege and you hadn’t spent so many of your days learning the ins and outs of her complicated personality.

“Did the incoming snowstorm happen to slip your mind?”

“No, I just thought you’d want to go anyway,” she replies with a small shrug.

“I’d rather not crash, Lila will never let me hear the end of it.”

Your words make her tilt her head to the side, the slightest hint of a pout on her face. “So…what, you’re just going to spend Christmas alone?”

“Yup. Kate, I’m not a kid anymore, nothing will happen if I spend one day by myself.”

“But it’s Christmas!” She exclaims, looking borderline offended that you’re so comfortable spending the holiday alone.

“Is that why you’re breaking into my apartment?” You ask in a foolish attempt to stop yourself from asking her to spend the day with you.

Just because she thought about you long enough to come drop off her, no doubt ridiculously expensive, gifts for you does not mean she wants to spend the holiday with you when she could easily spend it with anyone else.

The pink hue that overtakes her cheeks is a better gift than anything that could be inside the bags in her hand. “Well, uh…maybe…”

She finally gathers enough courage to get rid of the distance between you with a bright, albeit nervous, smile on her face. You half-expect her to launch into some long ramble about why she just couldn’t stop herself from buying an insane amount of gifts for you this year but she doesn’t.

For once in her life, Kate Bishop makes things easy for herself.

“I didn’t think I was going to make it to the farm on time so I was just going to drop these off for you…” She holds out the bag for you and you do your best to calm the rapid beating of your heart as you take it.

“Can I open it right now or will you get embarrassed?”

“Both,” she replies through a chuckle. “I would leave but I don’t want you to be lonely.”

“Right, because I’m the one who gets lonely.”

“Shut up.”

It’s both a blessing and a curse to have broken through the archer’s defenses and right now, her cute reactions are beginning to feel like a curse. Although, that might just be your unrequited feelings talking.

A slightly awkward silence settles over both of you while you rifle through the overwhelming amount of purple tissue paper until you find your gift. You’re expecting another expensive necklace, maybe a bracelet this time, but what you’re met with is the most thoughtful gift you’ve ever received…and probably the most thoughtful gift Kate has ever given.

What you end up pulling out of the bag is a leather journal with a beautiful engraving of yours and Kate’s initials. “Kate…is this-”

“Yeah, I, um…I couldn’t find a photo album that I liked so I sort of…made my own.”

You can’t stop yourself from flipping through the first couple of pages, caught somewhere between the euphoria of being given something so beautiful and the disappointment that comes with knowing it all only serves to fuel your love for the archer.

Love you can’t express the way you want to.

Love that’s hidden between the pages of the journal you hold in your hands.

You don’t notice and Kate isn’t really in a hurry to watch you read the series of rambles that make up her overdue confession so she lets the moment fade like she always has. It’s not like you can blame her for wanting to move on to something else, her lack of focus isn’t necessarily a secret, and you let yourself get carried away by her jokes and her stubborn need to make mac and cheese for you.

The archer manages to cook without setting your kitchen on fire and the two of you settle on your couch to watch the first cheesy Christmas movie you find. In all honesty…the movie is awful but the corny jokes make Kate laugh so you can’t find it in yourself to be too grumpy about the shitty writing.

Until the scene in front of you reminds you of the archer and her ex. You’re unable to hold back the jealousy-tinted snarkiness said reminder brings out of you. “I think Yelena watched this movie and then decided to be a dick just like the main character.”

Kate instantly turns toward you, staring at you with wide eyes that barely hide her amusement. “What?”

“What?” You feign confusion to avoid having to repeat yourself.

“You know what,” she replies with an eyeroll. “If I’m the one who got broken up with, why are you the one that’s still upset?”

“Because- wait, why are you not upset?”

Your uno-reverse of a response leaves Kate speechless for a few seconds and you prepare yourself for the series of jokes that will no doubt leave her mouth next.

But Kate’s never been predictable.

“Because…she didn’t break my heart. She didn’t even own it in the first place.”

Her words spark the low flames of hope hidden in the depths of your heart. It feels impossible and if you were a believer, you might even say Santa’s on your side, helping to give you the one thing you’ve wished for more nights than you can count.

And yet you hesitate.

“What are you trying to say?” You ask, your voice so soft it borders on cautious.

“That I’m an idiot,” she replies with that same bright smile that made you fall for her so long ago. “And…I’d really like to kiss you.”

The world seems to slow down to a complete stop at that moment.

You almost don’t even know what to do with yourself. Thankfully, you manage to kick yourself into action before the moment passes.

Kate’s awkwardness seems to disappear into thin air as she leans in toward you, meeting you halfway for the softest, sweetest, kiss you’ve ever had. And maybe nothing about it is perfect but it’s you and her and that’s all that matters for now.

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sgiandubh · 4 months

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So in other words, you agree, Sam and Cait are not very good actors as exemplified by the scene being them and not Beauchamp and Fraser. On that, agreed. She might be a C actor, he's definitely a D

Dear Beauchamp and Fraser Anon,

I suspect you might be a returning one, by the way, hoping to catch me unprepared with a very cheap sophism. Check this concept on Wikipedia if you wish, but I will give you my definition: manipulated or derailed logic, i.e. formally sustainable, but in reality just a fallacy; or, if you prefer, a bunch of crap, just for the sake of it. Also, it would be wise not to try these cheap tricks on someone trained to work with words and doing so every single day: you might find no satisfaction, ultimately.

Fun fact: I don't agree with any single word you just wrote. Sam and Cait are very good and gifted actors. Both of them. They did wonders with a very inconsistent script and under barbaric public pressure. What dragged you in here, Anon? Mrs. Gabaldon's florid, even luxuriant prose? What kept you in here, Anon? Blood and sperm and rape galore? I should wish you were honest, at least for once in your life, and let your answer be 'not really'.

What I meant by that phrase was something very simple: the actors' life experience deeply informing and sublimating their performance. If you think real and creative lives are strictly separate affairs in any intellectual endeavor, then you are probably completely unfamiliar with anything remotely related to writing, singing, playing (an instrument), acting, composing or painting. All these are akin to magic and all of the above are a summoning of sorts: ask any 'content creator', you will probably get a very similar answer. In Cait and Sam's case, their real life story nurtures and elevates their acting, despite people like you.

I am not an actor myself, but a long time ago it was acting that liberated me and taught me to not be afraid of anything. I did not make a living out of it, but I will always have the tools making me able to access that very special energy, any time I should need it. So, I can only offer you an educated opinion of These Two:

C is a very, very good actress. She is classy, sophisticated and knows instinctively how to occupy a stage or a set. She worked and progressed a LOT since Season 1, when it took me a good while to warm up to her. Add to this what I think is arresting beauty. Not really a C-level, in my book.

S is a wonderfully gifted actor who, unlike C, does not have any idea of this potential and, to be honest, gives the impression to even not care about it. He singlehandedly dominated some of the most difficult moments of the series (that unwatchable Wentworth episode comes to mind). His mastery of the Stanislavski and Lecoq methods and techniques is excellent. He is likeable, personable and has an innate emotional intelligence, helping him navigate and compensate the weaknesses of (yes, I insist!) an often insufficient script. I have already written about it, with arguments, when I found some very interesting parallels between The Fiery Cross episode and Laurence Olivier's performance in Shakespeare's Henry V. I will say it again: this guy has been grossly miscast, spare for JAMMF.

Perhaps you are unfamiliar with the whole preparation and rehearsal process when producing a movie or a series or a theatre show. These people don't just learn their lines by heart and turn up for readings and rehearsals. They also read and watch a lot of things that could help them build better, more credible characters. But what makes the sometimes very subtle difference between a decent performance and a stellar one is the amount of themselves they allow inside their acting. And in this respect, I think Sam and Cait have been very lucky, in what is a very clear case of Art (instinctively) imitating Life.

I doubt this answered your question and to be honest, I don't care.

#anon #fandom #shitshow

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ivyial · 9 months

Text

okay time for some delulu gojohime analysis that's a bit of a reach.

so earlier today, i was rewatching a compilation of gojo and utahime's scenes from season 1 and it rang a bell (also, i just want to say, mappa gotta have gojohime shippers on the team cause some of the s2 gjhm elements weren't in the manga). ANYWAY.

so in episode 14 (the beginning of the tokyo-kyoto goodwill event arc), utahime is introduced (and i'm not gonna say that her literal second sentence onscreen ever is inquiring after gojo, but i am going to say that). then gojo comes in with gifts for the kyoto students - some charms from a tribe. this is how the panel goes in the manga:

nothing specific about those charms/souvenirs. gojo also explicitly mentions that they're for the kyoto kids - nothing for the staff.

now here's how it goes in the anime:

unfortunately i don't have the japanese script for this scene or the exact intended meaning, so i'll have to use the english translation :')

in the anime, there are two changes to gojo's dialogue:

the tribal charms are specifically protective. whether they work or not, they were made with the intention of protecting the user in mind

"the kyoto kids" becomes "everyone from kyoto" (including staff, technically)

now assuming that these changes are correct, it makes the scene way more relevant to gojohime.

as we know, gojo thinks utahime is weak. he says it to her multiple times and it's pretty much his go-to insult for her. we also know that gojo is loaded with cash, so spending a few more bucks isn't an issue. and yet... he didn't get her one of those. this is one amazing opportunity for gojo to make fun of utahime, by giving her one of those charms and implying that she needs it because she can't defend herself. but for some reason, he didn't take it.

there are a few ways to interpret that:

gojo is a decent enough guy to not embarrass her in public in front of other people. although, this isn't true, since he does do it in front of other people all the time: see season 2, episode 1, when he calls her weak in front of mei mei and geto. so maybe he just doesn't want to embarrass her in front of her students. again, not exactly true, since he puts her on the spot later in the goodwill event arc:

pretty 'eh' to ask her to give a speech unprepared in front of all of the students, especially since she ends up performing very poorly. maybe he draws the line at calling her weak in front of her students, because he understands that they look up to her.

2. gojo didn't give her a protective charm because despite calling her weak all the time, he doesn't fully believe that and he knows she can defend herself. it is vaguely reminiscent of their recent shared scene in the manga, in which *spoilers for the current arc* utahime's cursed technique is revealed and she acts as an amplifier for gojo's. he definitely trusts her enough to team up with her, just like he did to find the traitor at the kyoto school.

3. utahime doesn't need protection, because he is there. for this interpretation, i'm drawing a parallel between this scene and this post explaining how utahime is metaphorically always under gojo's eye. even without that detail, there's his whole spiel in 2x01 where he dramatically announces "i'm here to save you, utahime". it's worth noting that he pretty much came round to help her out because he knew she was in danger (i think? someone correct me if i'm wrong please).

one thing's for sure though, it's that gojo doesn't truly believe that utahime is too weak to be a sorcerer. is she weaker than him? sure, but that doesn't make her incompetent. and if she needs to be protected, he's more than happy to do it for her.

#gojo satoru #iori utahime #gojohime #gouta #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk meta

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three--rings · 6 months

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Okay so I know we're in this big anti-sex cultural moment.

And I know my own personal standards on this issue are way out there. I am a sex first relationship later person. It's just how I roll. So I'm biased.

But I have to say, everyone talks like it's definitely for sure that it was a bad idea for Ed and Stede to have sex when they did.

And honestly, like, I'm not even arguing with that. It was a very understandable time for them to have sex. There should have been some more talking either before or AFTER about how they were both feeling. But it wasn't ideal perhaps.

Still I want to be clear: I don't think them having sex is the fucking problem here.

Ed is overwhelmed and unsure of where he fits right now. He's been through a lot of trauma recently (and caused a lot of course.) So it's understandable why he'd feel unprepared to add sex with Stede on top of it all.

However, they both do very much want to have sex with each other. And when two people are in love and really attracted to each other and really want to have sex, even if they have other reasons why they are holding back from it...well, eventually they're going to have sex. Sooner or later, but probably sooner.

Time in this show is very difficult to gauge, especially this season. So some time has passed between the moonlight scene and the beginning of ep 6. Ed had his leathers back, he's not wearing the bell, things have changed and progressed. It's not the next day. Probably.

We don't get to know how much time it's been or what has been said in between. Ed seems basically in the same place mentally. If not a worse one. Progress is not being made.

It's easy to criticize Stede for initiating a rather aggressive pounce on Ed in the wake of his trauma. But he's clearly not thinking. That's his issue, separate from the question of whether Ed is ready, so I'm not going to get into it. But he does pause, and he looks to Ed for permission, which Ed gives before enthusiastically and passionately joining in.

They both just went through a scary time. They both are seeking comfort in each other. It means sooner comes rather than later in the inevitable 'they're GOING to fuck' race. I know that sentence is a trashfire but let's move on.

Ed is happy in the morning. He's a little nervous, with the breakfast, but he feels good about dumping his leathers. He's come to a decision. Even after he starts to get nervous after Stede talks about their career, he's mostly fine when they go eat. Relaxed, happy about what happened.

And then all the fame stuff starts and he's fine at first. He talks to Jackie and is fine about it until Jackie is like yeah but you have a problem with your man. He talks to Izzy.

Now he's REALLY done a 180. He doesn't see his desired life and Stede's desired life matching up. Stede apparently doesn't understand Ed and where he's at if he thinks they're going to be pirates together now.

This is the problem. This is what upsets Ed. he spirals for hours. He's running scenarios and coming to negative conclusions. He's not valuable or loveable if he's not Blackbeard. Stede doesn't want him if he doesn't fit into that life. He needs to move on. He is panicked and freaking out.

Then he talks to Stede, after already making the decision to leave and go fishing. Like, let's be clear, he doesn't decide that during their fight. He's decided and signed on. He's just saying goodbye.

It's only then that he brings up the sex. He does throw blame at Stede for it a bit, which I think is mostly fair. But he also isn't accounting for Stede's state of mind at the time. They were both off tilt. But he digs into that, and to me, I think he's using the sex as an excuse.

He didn't have a problem with the sex itself. He was happy in the morning and after. Smiling, smug, cute, loved up, having heart to hearts about mermaids and letters.

It was all the life/identity stuff that crashed in that shifted him. But he doesn't know how to talk about that. He doesn't know how to explain it or be vulnerable about his worst fears and self-worth issues.

So he goes on offense and says hey, actually, this is your fault. He picks the issue he has words for, the only one they've actually talked at all about.

Stede is NOT wrong when he identifies Ed as panicking and wanting to run. Stede is recognizing the behavior from himself.

Just like it's not about Ed wanting to fish, it's not about them going too fast. It's about them not communicating about their deepest needs and desires and fears.

They can have sex or not have sex, if they're not communicating it won't work. They could continue fucking like rabbits and have long talks in between sessions and get really really far. Or do what they've been doing which is NOT having sex and also not communicating which can go on forever and they won't get closer to happy.

I feel like fandom has latched on to this one thing as The Problem, because it's all Ed SAID was a problem. But we have lots of evidence otherwise.

I mean, even the conversation...Ed says it's too fast, Stede is like...okay well we can do whatever. He doesn't get defensive even though he's hurt. But that's not good enough, because that's not actually the problem. But at that point Ed really starts running away.

And they start getting more heated, both being sloppy at expressing themselves. (Stede is unfortunately pretty freaking drunk.)

I think they are both very avoidant personalities when it comes to this kind of thing, this kind of deeply personal conflict. Their anxieties keep them from being honest. And so the sex combined with Stede's killing of a man, and newfound fame, that all became a crisis that forced them to confront these issues. I think ultimately probably for the best, instead of not addressing them.

#ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd meta #my meta #I still have barely slept since the episodes dropped #I don't even know if this makes any sense #will I put it in drafts? nah #here have brain vomit

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slumber--parties · 1 year

Text

What I really can't wait to see in season 2 is how they will handle the dynamic between Louis and Claudia after they kill Lestat.

Right now they are both using him as a recipient and scapegoat for all their tensions and frustrations. Disclaimer: I of course think he has behaved horribly and deserves everything that they will throw at him. However, looking at Louis and Claudia's personalities and interactions, I find it interesting that - in their obvious love for each other - in a twisted way they still need Lestat to function together.

When Claudia first realizes the actual consequences of her vampirism, she gets mad at both Louis and Lestat. She later forgives Louis because she deems him more deserving of her love. But I think the reason she is able to do that is also that she has a place where to put all her hate and anger cleanly and without remorse: Lestat.

Louis, on the other hand, hates himself terribly and always has. I am not saying that Lestat's recent actions didn't contribute to his unhappiness, but it's pretty clear that he has been inching towards depression and suicidal thoughts since before his turning. The only way he has found for dealing with his current brand of self-hatred without consuming himself completely is to turn almost every negative thing he feels about himself onto Lestat. Everything ugly and twisted and wrong in his life becomes Lestat's fault. The more he hates himself, the more resentful and violent he becomes towards Lestat. I am not surprised that the writers decided to place Louis' decision to kill Lestat at the end of his depressive spiral. Of course in part he is killing him to actually get rid of him. But I think it's pretty clear that subconsciounsly he is also hoping to kill the part of himself he hates.

Moreover, both of Louis and Claudia feel a sense of anger and despair at being so lost in the world and so alone, so isolated. Their humanness stripped away and no one of their kind to understand, apart from Lestat. He is their maker and this makes him almost a stand-in parent figure in context. Both Louis and Claudia are in the youth of their vampiric lives. And when we are young and facing the world for the first time and finding ourselves unprepared, what do we do but blame our parents? We blame them for their failures - that's true - but also for not being able to be the omniscient, omnipotent force we once believed. We blame them for the shattering of every illusion of safety we ever felt.

Just to clarify again, I fully believe that a lot of the blame Lestat is shouldering is deserved and stems from his own actions. But precisely for this reason, he has also become a very easy way for Louis and Claudia to not confront each other and themselves.

So, where will this leave Louis and Claudia when they are alone? When they have no one to blame anymore for every single thing that goes wrong in the world and between the two of them? I am super excited to find out.

#interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire spoilers #iwtv #iwtv spoilers #and I also find it v neat that this ties in so cleanly #with the way Louis's mother does the same to him

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9ndreus · 7 months

Text

Business Partners

(Inspired by this post by @nightgoodomens!)

Sometime after the events of season 2... Crowley storms into Heaven, carrying a folder of papers, looking very cross.

Aziraphale: [looking up from his desk] Oh! Crowley! you-

Crowley: [cheekily] No no. I'm just here to serve you your papers.

Crowley: [drops a folder of human legal documents on Aziraphale's desk]

Aziraphale: ...You came all the way, up here, to bring me some papers...

Crowley: Yes, and I also have a few choice words about them-

Aziraphale: [having a sudden suspicion about what kind of papers these might be]

Aziraphale: [angrily, and then... gently] Crowley... you know we can't actually get... ~divorced~ ... if we were never... ~married~ ... right?

Crowley: ...?

Crowley: No not that kind of- They're TAX papers angel.

Crowley: [flicks open the folder on the desk]

Aziraphale: Oh, I... I see... Is that all you-

Crowley: [crossly] Angel I am NOT doing your taxes for you even if you did, apparently, technically, list me as a bookshop co-owner. Which, by the way, you never actually told me we were legally business partners. Something legally binding like that really seems like something you should tell a person... So how exactly was I supposed to know-

Aziraphale: [Trying very hard and failing not to look flustered] Yes, well... I do have a perfectly good explanation for that... You see... I thought... Maybe we could... [Totally unprepared to have this conversation right now] Oh can't we do this later? I really have quite a lot of, um, very important records... Records! To be signing off on-

Crowley: [Dripping with sarcasm] Oh, later? Is the ~Supreme Archangel~ just going to pop on down to grace us with his divine presence whenever it's convenient-

Aziraphale: [Pursing his lips] Crowley there really is no need for-

...The two of them continue to bicker like the married/divorced couple they are...

Some 17th order scrivener, probably: [clutching a handful of records behind a nearby pillar] Oh my God they were business partners.

#good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #good omens ficlet #ineffable divorce #incorrect good omens quotes #oh my god they were business partners

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gerec · 3 months

Note

Hi Gerec! Do you have any fics rec where Erik fell in love with Charles at first sight? I just love reading Erik being absolute whipped for Charles.

Hi Anon! Here are a few of my favourites where they fall in love (or in lust!) at first sight. Hope you enjoy :D

Scenes from the Wild by nekosmuse

Erik Lehnsherr, world renowned wilderness survivalist, alongside his husband, Charles Xavier, survive the perils of the wild in order to bring you, Two Men, One Knife, an award winning reality survival series, available only on the Discovery Channel. Follow Erik and Charles as they travel to the world's most remote locations with only the most basic of supplies. Pitted against nature, this husband-husband team struggle to survive in some of the world's harshest climates while battling the planet's fiercest predators. Can they survive the Canadian North? Find out next season, on Two Men, One Knife

Note: Chapter 2 covers their first meeting :D

Other Life Challenges by professor (series)

“Why am I here again?” Erik groans.

“I need you to lift things and glower at people over my shoulder when I tell people that it’s not ‘politically correct’ or a ‘war on Christmas’ to have a non-denominational winter holiday festival,” says Theresa Pryde.

Well, at least those are two things he’s good at.

Trying to create the next world war by aesc

The voice's owner is a young man, maybe a handful of years younger than Erik, with the earnest expression worn by a boy who's never grown up. He's very correctly academic in a dark waistcoat and collared shirt, although the collar is very incorrectly unbuttoned to display a hint of throat – enough, Erik decides, to want to lick. [Or, the one inspired by this moment-inducing gifset, where for some reason Erik's decided to work for the CIA as a means to an end and gets sent to England instead of Moira.]

645 Riverside Drive by smilebackwards

Azazel clearly has yet to understand the shattering power of Charles' disappointment, so Erik takes one for the team, grabbing the cup and downing the remnants of the cappuccino like a shot while Azazel watches with morbid fascination.

Humane Society by smilebackwards

Once Erik finally allows himself to decide that Charles is pretty much the best thing since sliced bread, he spends the next week being incredibly bitter that he's Charles' cat and not his boyfriend.

An Unexpected Muse by RedStockings

Erik is an artist who is obsessed with the young man he by chance bumped into six months ago. Charles is the long-suffering brother being dragged to an art exhibition by Raven. There he spots the man he has been dreaming about for six long months and realises that he had been noticed after all.

Walling in or Walling Out by stlkrchck

Erik stifles a sigh. Of course this is Mr. C. F. Xavier. Of course.

For the prompt: Charles and Raven are throwing a holiday party. Erik is the grumpy neighbor who is annoyed by how loud they are being. So he goes to complain, and Charles makes it up to him.

Protect, Serve, Troll by keire_ke

Erik's fire department has a special relationship with the local university. They visit often. Sometimes, there even is a fire.

Immovable Object Meets Irresistible Force by ximeria

Erik is woefully unprepared for Raven's brother, who returns to the States for her 25th birthday party.

soul of my soul by ikeracity

You can imprint on your soulmate anywhere — school, work, on the street, in a restaurant, on the subway.

Charles and Erik imprint on each other just in time for the holidays.

Some Things Are Meant To Be by ikeracity

Erik is a famous singer. Charles is a closeted fan. When Raven drags him to Erik's concert, the last thing Charles expects is for Erik to single him out of the crowd, for Erik to look right at him as he sings. And the last, last thing he expects is for Erik to personally serenade him and pull him on stage and kiss him senseless, because some things are meant to be and Erik knows it.

Crosswalk by velvetcadence

Erik accidentally French dips a perfect stranger in public. Things go as you might expect it to.

Meet Cute by lachatblanche

Erik never expected to meet his soulmate in a public toilet.

Forelsket by melonbutterfly

Erik doesn't usually react to people like that, no matter how attractive they are, and Lord knows how many incredibly attractive people he's met. And anyway, even if he is attracted to someone, it doesn't… overcome him like this, never.

Defy the Stars by SomeCoolName

Charles can’t sleep that warm night in New York when he decides to get some fresh hair on his balcony. It appears he’s not the only one who can’t sleep as he meets one of his neighbors, smoking on his balcony from the building across Charles’. They meet again in the elevator a few days later and the neighbor, Erik, is not only incredibly beautiful but also charming and funny. But Charles is in a relationship with Scott and Erik is hiding something, so it’s best if they just stay neighbors.

Too bad it was love at first sight.

To Life by professor

Erik wants a Jewish wedding.

#cherik #fic rec #gerec's fic rec #love at first sight #gerec rambles

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artficlly · 1 year

Text

lady of the ghosts [chapter one]

After a great plague ravages your city, you are looking to marry to secure safety for your people. With a war finally ending, the nearby kingdoms are looking to celebrate. King James "Bucky" Barnes decides to continue his family's tradition of hosting a courting season. A medieval courting marvel AU.

Pairing: king!bucky x lady!reader

Warnings: mention of disease, mention of war, sexism, mention of blood

Word Count: 6.6k

A/N: ikik i should just be focusing on doing one series at a time, but god do i love a good medieval style courting au!! i don't know if this will have fantasy elements in it - it def could i am just hesitant! let me know what you think <3 not proof read - srry for typos.

chapter masterlist | main masterlist

Faliene, the city of The Stormfall Mountains, had once been a rich seaport. Before misfortune struck, it had been a great, bustling city, full of life, culture, and riches. The men of Faliene were seafarers, importing and exporting goods throughout the continents. Their families worked the land, raised livestock in the mountains, or sold the goods they produced. The streets had been lined with markets, taverns, and exotic dealers from across the known land. The deeper you moved within its walls, the more the city expanded into a dizzying mass of houses stacked atop each other, banners and flags adorning the alleys. It was said that one could live their entire life and not know every corner of Faliene, never eat at every food stall, or buy from every shop before a new one emerged. At its center stood Fort Faliene, the home of the Lord and Lady of Faliene. The fortress was surrounded by large cobblestone walls and was guarded by two towers that looked out over the port and the surrounding land. It had been the biggest port city on the Northern Continent. The pride and joy of the Kingdom of Haiford.

But time had not been kind to Faliene.

War ravaged the Northern Continent, kingdom against kingdom. New ports were built further south. The mainlanders had grown tired of navigating the icy seas and mountains that surrounded Faliene. Only the men of Faliene truly understood how to navigate its icy conditions, leaving the mainlanders fearful that the burly northern men would threaten their jobs. Slowly, Faliene turned from a haven for traders and seafarers to a ghost town. Some seafarers remained, bracing the freezing seas to fish and cart goods down to the Southern Coast. Others turned to farming, though the frozen Stormfall Mountains were a cruel mistress to their inhabitants. Crops failed to grow as the freezing winters returned stronger and more merciless than the last. The city was full of ghosts, and in that far north, the people were highly superstitious. The Lord and Lady were unprepared for the famine and poverty that followed Faliene’s fall. Some said the city had a curse upon it, doomed to fail since its conception. They whispered that greed had overtaken the once bustling city, finally bringing her to her knees as she rotted from the inside. The people of Failene were proud; they held on for generations, peddling fish and livestock. Faliene was their home; they would not give up on her so easily. Regardless of their noble intentions, even the strongest of Faliene did not anticipate the plague. Nor did they survive it.

Faliene, the City of Ghosts. How you yearned for her cold embrace once more.

The dining hall was stiflingly hot. No matter how long you had lived in the capital, you had never adjusted to the mainland heat. You knew many of the men would protest that, saying that Haiford was one of the colder kingdoms. Haiford was tucked deep into the north; it was the closest neighbor of Faliene. Further north, past Faliene, there was only an ocean of frozen water and death. You were used to the frigid winds that blew from the Northern Ocean and the thick snow that fell from the Stormfall Mountains. You were glad you had opted for a lighter dress, with rich blue silk pooling across your skin. The waist was pulled in by an outer corset made of leather, adorned with silver eyelets and black lacing. The neckline cut deep to reveal some cleavage, and the sleeves long and cuffed at the wrist. Most of the women of the court wore high-neck gowns made from velvet and light, high-quality wool. You didn’t know if you could bear the feeling of lace constricting your throat at that moment.

Regardless of the current courtly fashion, you wore your family colors. Blue, black, and silver. It was the subject of much contempt from your fellow ladies, who opted for the royal family's colors: red, yellow, and gold. You never had much of a love for red; you always dressed like a stormy ocean or a snowy mountain range. The women despised your silver earrings, necklaces, and rings. They said it was a metal for the commoner and that gold was the trend in court. You didn’t care. Your mother had always dressed in blue, even after the wedding. King Harrison had never commented on it, at least not publicly.

Your mother had been Lady of Faliene. You had spent half your childhood alongside her and your father in your beloved homeland. When a plague had swept the city, claiming half the population along with your father? You and your mother had been forced to flee inland to the capital, and Haiford Court promised protection. The King of Haiford had recently lost his wife and agreed to marry your mother. The two of you would not have to return to your ghost town, instead enjoying the privilege of court and the advantages it brought. Your mother had wanted to find you a suitable husband and secure you a position now that your father was dead. You were the sole heir of Faliene, and unfortunately, you were a woman. You had no claim over any money or men without a husband. Any trades you tried to make on behalf of your people would be laughed at; a lone woman was not allowed to hold power. If you had been a man, you would have been able to claim Faliene and try to save her. But as a woman, you had one duty: to produce heirs. One of the condition’s for your Mother’s marriage was that she gave King Harrison another heir. King Harrison had two children: his son Micheal and his daughter Peggy. Princess Peggy would never be allowed to rule, being a woman like yourself. King Harrison wanted another boy to act as a spare and backup heir if Micheal was compromised.

Your mother never delivered on her end of the deal. She grew sick – deathly so – shortly after arriving in Haiford. She had been bedridden for the past few years, in and out of fever and delirium. King Harrison allowed you to stay in the capital as long as your mother stayed alive. It was an agreement that you would find a sensible husband, one with land and a suitable title. Only your husband would be able to access your dowry or any funds left in the Faliene accounts. Only your husband would be able to save Faliene; Haiford law forbade women from being involved in politics beyond being a piece of livestock to trade and breed. You would be married; you would pretend to love your husband, smile along in public, and provide him with children, whom you would also pretend to love. Then you would die. You were the Lady of the Ghosts, a Lady of Nothing. King Harrison did not wish to save your beloved Faliene. If there were no Lords and Ladies suitable to oversee the now-small city, it would slowly die out. That way, he would no longer have to worry about the city, as there would only be ghosts left to rule.

Slowly, you lift your glass of wine to your lips. Taking a sip, you observe the chaos. You are seated at the head of the hall, along with the royal family, the other lords and ladies, and a few of the knights. Below you, several long tables stretch out, seating hundreds of men and women. The men are rowdy, shouting and laughing as they celebrate. You can’t blame them; a war had ended.

For the past three years, war has raged on the Kingdom’s borders. The neighboring Kingdom of Galanta had fallen under attack by their Southern neighbors, the Realm of Hydrina. Haiford had come to Galanta’s aid throughout the three years. The King and Queen of Galanta had died during the war. It left their heir, Prince James, to inherit not only a kingdom but a war. You knew the aide was only there for political reasons. Galanta was a rich Kingdom, with soil rich for farming, mines full of ores, and a traders haven. The word among the women was that King Harrison was aiming to have Princess Peggy married to King James. It made sense to join the two families; King James would need a wife to solidify his rule with heirs, as well as being in debt to Haiford for their help during the war.

You understood the moves and countermoves of court politics. You had to in order to survive. The women of the court didn’t enjoy your presence; you didn’t have the privilege of being an official member of the royal family like your mother. They actively looked for ways to shun you and have you sent away from the castle. You always had to be two steps ahead. You viewed life like a chess board, always anticipating your opponent's next move. You spent hours reading, educating yourself in history, politics, battle, language, and more. The most powerful weapon a woman had was not only her body but also her mind and tongue.

Your attention was briefly pulled to some of the nearby knights drunkenly laughing. Being a lower-ranked lady, you had been placed next to the knights at the dining table. Next to you was Steve Rogers, Knight of Galanta. His father was a high-ranking Lord in Galanta. Steve, being the youngest of seven brothers, had no possibility of inheriting his father’s fortune or land. So, at a young age, he became a squire and eventually trained to become a Knight of Galanta. He had eventually become one of the highest-ranking Knights of Galanta and one of King James’ most trusted advisors. During the war, he had been positioned to help Prince Micheal with the Haiford armies. You had grown to like his presence; it was a shame that he would soon depart for Galanta along with his men.

The first time you spoke to Steve, it was in the royal library. You had a habit of sneaking into the library at night. At home in Faliene, you had run rampant and wild in your father’s study; he had encouraged your curious mind. You would read, play chess, and discuss unladylike topics such as politics and war. You had continued your curiosities in Haiford, just under the cover of darkness. When the war had begun, you had not anticipated Steve and his fellow knights using the library as a space to discuss battle plans.

That night, you had snuck in to collect some volumes on The Crimson Crusade. Steve had spotted you flitting through the shelves, books in hand, and called you over. You were both so much younger then. He had been handsome with a boyish charm back then; the muscled blond heartthrob from Galanta had all the ladies maids swooning.

“Why would a Lady like yourself find interest in The Crimson Crusade?” Steve had asked, noting the books in your grasp. His fellow Knights had snickered under their breath, like they were encouraging Steve to mock you. Back then, you had assumed Steve was just another peacock knight. You had seen the way he showed off in the courtyard, cutting down the men during training while the women watched with squeals of delight. You had watched how he would parade around, smirking at the women and kissing their knuckles with a bow of his head. Due to that, you didn’t flush in embarrassment. Instead, you held his gaze with an impudent smile.

“My grandfather helped lead the Siege of Nelley Stronghold.” You had explained, your voice steady and cool. “It is important to understand history to ensure it doesn't repeat itself.” Your gaze had followed over to the map they had laid out across the table, your eyes flickering between the small figurines representing the different armies.

The men were silent, but when your eyes had returned to Steve, you had found he was grinning at you.

“You find analyzing battle strategy a hobby? Women such as yourself are supposed to find entertainment in menial tasks such as embroidery or gossip.” One of the Knights had spoken up with a mocking laugh, looking between his peers, who also laughed. Steve hadn’t laughed; instead, he was watching to see how you handled the comment.

“How ironic that you mock women for their menial tasks yet deny their interest in a proper education? An uneducated woman is too easy and weak for your respect, but you are obviously intimidated by the prospect of a woman who is more intelligent than you.” You had replied, armed with a sickly sweet smile. Steve had held his breath, watching as you stepped closer to the table. The men had been stunned into silence, watching as you tilted your head at the map to analyze the proposed plan of attack.

Your hands had been unshaking as you reached out, moving a handful of figurines from one location to another. Half of the figurines had been shaped as snakes – the armies of Hydrina. The other half were the armies of Haiford, represented by a wolf.

“It is the wet season.” You had stated as you shifted the figurines. “Even if you have stronger numbers, fighting on the Fell Field would be unwise. It is a marshland, and the armies of Hydrina will have the upper hand as they are used to such conditions. You have to remember that you are fighting with Haiford men, not Galantians. Haiford men are used to snow, not marsh. Hiwold Expanse has solid land, there you would have the upper hand.”

The men looked to Steve as he had nodded with an impressed smile. It seemed they had respect for the man, not questioning his judgment. You had watched as Steve’s calloused fingers danced over the hilt of his sword as if in thought.

“How did you know this? Have you traveled that land before?” Steve had asked you. His question had been genuine, not mocking. He had been interested in discovering how you knew that because he knew you were entirely right.

“The Battle of the Dark Marsh,” You had explained. “Similar circumstances. Haiford had more men, yet they were slaughtered. They were a force through snow and ice, but not marshland.”

“Understand history, so you do not repeat it.” Steve had quoted you with a smile.

That night had entirely changed your perspective on Steve. Unlike some of his men, he was kind and considerate. He enjoyed listening to your opinions and navigating the years of knowledge you had stored away in your mind. Often, he had requested your help with battle strategy, commenting on your adeptness on the subject.

Holding your tongue between your teeth, you suppress a small laugh as you hear Prince Micheal boasting about his efforts in the war. You had heard him spew the same story, adding more extreme and near-impossible details each time he told it. It had developed from him slaying one rogue soldier to slaying half an army with only his sword and wit. The ladies of court lapped it up, giggling and batting their eyelashes. They knew he was lying; they just knew how to play the game.

“Do tell me what you find so amusing, Lady Y/N?” Steve asks from beside you.

“I fear I shouldn’t say, Sir Rogers.” You reply, delicately placing your glass of wine back on the table. Steve’s eyes watch the action, a small smile playing across his lips. The two of you had… become friends. As scandalous as that was.

“Go on,” Steve encourages you. You don’t look him in the eye, instead twisting one of the silver rings around your finger. In your time as friends with Steve, he often encouraged you to be rather loose-lipped. You knew it was a mistake to air out your true opinions when he could betray you at any moment. Some things you kept close to your heart, but still, the two of you spoke ill of many people in the court. You knew Steve realistically wouldn’t turn on you, but you were still wary in public.

“I just find it rather entertaining how Prince Micheal brags about his contributions to the war. We all know that he spent more time bedding every woman in sight than actually going to battle.” You mutter quietly in Steve’s direction. A nearby knight, Sam Wilson, also of Galanta, chokes on his wine as he overhears your snide comment. Steve only belts out a laugh, thumping his hand against his chest as he leans back into his chair. All you can do is smile innocently.

“You know, Bucky – sorry, James – said something similar.” Steve says once he has recovered. Sam is still coughing, gaining some looks from nearby lords and ladies. Bucky. You had heard Steve refer to King James as that before; it was a nickname or pet name of sorts. You had learned the two of them had grown up together in a sense, with Steve’s lord father having been close with the late King and Queen of Galanta. The two of them must have been close friends for him to have such a casual relationship with the new King of Galanta. He always accidentally referred to him as Bucky. Never James, or even Jamie. You wondered where the name came from – why Bucky? Was Bucky different from James? Was James the serious one who played king, while Bucky was the childhood friend who trained in the mud alongside Steve?

“Is that so?” You reply, eyeing Sam with slight concern. “Please do not choke to death, Sir Wilson. You’re already causing quite the scene, I can’t imagine a corpse at the dining table would help the situation.”

Steve grins at that, pouring Sam some more wine to wash down the coughing. Even without turning, you can feel the gazes of others at the table watching. They wouldn't have been able to hear the conversation you were having, but they had certainly observed the aftermath. You could already imagine Prince Micheal’s grating voice commenting on the situation. King Harrison had made it clear that he wasn’t particularly pleased about you keeping company with knights in your spare time.

“Will you be attending The Galanta Season? James wants to host and continue the tradition now that the war is over.” Steve asks. You stab a piece of potato with a long sigh, popping it into your mouth.

The Galanta Season was all the ladies of court spoke about these days. Now that the war was over, there was an expectation that King James would hold a grand season to make up for the years lost. The Galanta Season was a match-making event, pairing lords, ladies, princes, and princesses from across the continent for marriage. If anything, you thought the event was a glorified excuse to party and drink. The festivities ran for a month – sometimes longer – including dances, feasts, promenades, and a variety of other events. Though most marriages were arranged or premeditated, the Season allowed couples to get to know each other before saying their vows.

“I suppose I should, if I am invited.” You reply. You knew you would be. Probably every eligible man on the continent knew you were on the hunt for a husband, which is why most of them steered clear. No one wanted to inherit the disaster that was Faliene. Or if they did show interest, it was only in having you for breeding purposes. They would ignore Faliene and let it die out naturally.

As much as you wished you could enjoy the prospect of drinking and partying in Galanta, you knew that your fate probably lay with an old man who was slowly wasting away. Old men were able to look past the reputation that surrounded you, they had different intentions than the younger, eligible men. The old men wanted you to provide more heirs. Younger men wanted bragging rights. You had heard those younger men gossip once, muttering about how you were ‘such a great beauty; what a shame about her situation’ and ‘how it would feel to bed Lady Y/N’. You didn’t know who was the worst pick: the corpse of an old man or a young, handsome man with the personality of a pig.

“You will be invited. I heard you’re in the market for a husband now that the war has passed and all the men have returned home.” Steve comments, taking a sip of his wine. You hold your tongue at the ‘I heard’. You wondered what other things Steve heard about you or said about you. You could only hope that he wasn't a pig like the other men. You doubted he was, but you had to be wary. Court was a strange place; you never truly knew anyone.

“It appears so.” You hum bitterly, trying to appear indifferent. Your appetite has suddenly disappeared, and the meat and potatoes in front of you appear unappealing.

“You know, James is on the hunt for a wife.” Steve murmurs to you, leaning closer so only you can hear. You whip your head around, giving him a bewildered look. If he had said this to any other lady, you wouldn’t have thought twice. It would’ve been a subtle way to indicate James’ interest in Princess Peggy. The way Steve said it, to you of all people. You know what he is implying.

“Don’t be cruel.” You whisper back to him. Your faces are close, at an unseemly distance. You are glad for the chaos in the hall suddenly and hope that no one is watching too closely. Most of the men are either focused on their food or the dancing that has sprung up between the tables.

“You didn’t hear this from me, but I don’t think Princess Peggy is quite the woman he is looking for.” Steve hums before finally resting back in his seat with a smug look. You don’t dare ask what kind of woman King James is looking for.

It seemed that Steve had quickly taken to the idea that he was an older brother of sorts. You had never commented on it. Steve was aware of your mission to save Faliene, though sometimes you found his interference overbearing. In that moment, you knew he had good intentions – that he wanted you to marry someone who he knew was kind and who he knew you would be happy with. But pushing ridiculous notions about you and James? That is where you drew the line. You had to be realistic about your position.

“You have become far too comfortable around me, Sir Rogers. I should take my leave before you convert me to your wickedness.” You say, hoping to shut down the conversation. Pushing your seat out as you go to stand. Steve follows your actions, hand-resting your arm to guide you down to the lower level. You can see Prince Micheal watching this with a smug smirk on his face. You already know you’re going to get an earful about this later.

“Oh, I think you are already fairly wicked.” Steve chuckles into your ear, pausing on the edge of the dance floor. “Dare to take a dance with me?”

Your eyes flicker over to Prince Micheal, who is muttering away to King Harrison. Any other day, you might have denied Steve on the idea that it could be perceived as improper. Today, you would take the risk. Steve was leaving for Galanta, and he had been a good friend to you these past few years. The least you could do was enjoy a final moment together.

“I suppose.” You reply with a smile, allowing him to take your hand and lead you onto the dance floor.

You note how a few of the other Knights of Galanta smile among themselves, a stark difference from Prince Micheal who is now scowling. Steve’s hand rests gently on your waist, pulling you closer. You keep your gaze and breath steady as you place your hand on his shoulder, the fabric of his tunic rough on your smooth skin. Your other hand is interlinked with his as he guides you into the crowd of dancers, slowly spiraling away to the music.

“If you plan to marry this season, whose attention are you hoping to catch?” Steve asks, his breath tickling your neck. You keep your gaze steady, tilting your head in thought. You knew Steve meant well by continuing to press on the topic. He didn’t know that you were exhausted on the topic and that it was all you thought about these days. These were questions the two of you had avoided for the past few years. All your discussions had been about the war or life before the war. Both of you had never dared to think about the future, let alone discuss your plans to marry. He knew you were smart, but even the smartest of women couldn’t be saved from the evil intentions of men.

“King Harrison hopes to introduce me to Lord Rumlow.” You sigh reluctantly, already anticipating his reaction. If Steve meant to step into the shoes of a brotherly role, you knew he would not find Lord Rumlow acceptable.

“What? That snake? That’s absurd.” Steve growled, his eyebrows pulled into a scowl.

The proposition of you marrying Lord Rumlow was a laughable one. He was above your station, a man of riches and land. If it hadn’t been for the war, he would’ve had his pick of the litter within the court. Rumlow had messed up, meaning his courting opportunities only lay with the lower-ranking women or the disgraced ones like yourself. During the war, he had sided with Hydrina. You didn’t know the full details; there were mutterings of Rumlow having conflict with his blood ties to Hydrina. By the time he had chosen to switch sides to support Galanta, his reputation had been ruined. King James had pardoned him due to his loyalty in the final months of the war, but his name would be forever tarnished. It seemed only natural that society would want to pair the Lady of the Ghosts with the Lord of the Snakes.

“I don’t have much choice in the matter, unfortunately.” You reply with a sigh, offering Steve a bittersweet smile. As the music flared, you slowly spun out along with the other ladies, skirts swirling around you. Steve’s touch was gentle as he guided you back into your steps.

“I’m sure your situation isn’t so dire that you have to lower yourself to the level of Lord Rumlow?” Steve asked, his tone was resentful. As much as you liked Steve, you noticed he could be completely clueless about your situation as a woman. Especially when his emotions about other people got in the way.

“I don’t expect you to understand.” You sigh. “I know it is different in Galanta. It is against the law for me to run Faliene, as I am not married or widowed. Most men won’t touch me due to the situation in Faliene. They fear it will ruin their reputation. I must marry for security, no matter who it is. If such a marriage will bring help to the people of Faliene, then that is all I need.”

“Rumlow offered to secure Faliene?” Steve asked, surprise laced in his voice. You bite the inside of your cheek, your eyes flickering down in embarrassment.

“No. I was going to propose the idea.” You admit as Steve shakes his head.

“He’ll never take it. Forgive me, but considering your position, he’ll consider marrying you as a mercy. Asking him to interfere with the situation in Faliene will end in disaster.” He says, slowly guiding you from the crowd on the dance floor as the song draws to an end. His hand slips from your waist as you clear your throat, hyper-aware of the royals scowling at the two of you.

“I fear you are correct, but all I can do is try. If not with Rumlow, then another lord.” You say, withdrawing your hand from his shoulder as you step away.

“I have every faith that you will succeed.” Steve hums with a smile. “I return to Galanta tomorrow. We will see each other again for the Season, but allow me to thank you for your company these past years.”

“Why, was the royal court too dull for your taste?” You tease. You know you should move on and stop talking to him with so many eyes on you. But you can’t help yourself. If the war had taught you anything, it was that you were lonely. Especially with your mother being sick and all your childhood friends either dead or remaining in Faliene.

“Dull definitely seems like the correct word to describe Haiford Court. Especially if you had not been here.”

“Careful, Sir Rogers.” You warn, although you are smiling.

“Apologies, but I hope you know I am telling the truth.” Steve chuckles with his own smile.

“I should bid you goodnight before the ladies of court conjure up any more scandalous rumors.” You could already imagine the muttering that would ensue at afternoon tea tomorrow, that you had distracted Steve from the women who were actually suitable for him. There had been plenty of ladies who had eyed him over the years. You had watched them flutter their eyelashes while watching him train with his men in the courtyard. While most of the higher-born ladies stuck to Prince Micheal’s side, the ladies in waiting and other head maids had swooned over the Knights of Galanta.

“Of course, farewell, Lady Y/N.” Steve takes your hand, raising your knuckles to his lips in a quick kiss. You try to keep your face neutral as he bows, offering him a small nod before you escape the dining hall for the night. You needed to visit your mother before you slept.

—

They called your mother’s sickness Delirium.

At first, they had worried that your mother had brought the plague to Haiford when she grew sick, but the symptoms were different. The plague had started as a small fever, which then quickly spiraled into violent vomiting until the victim could no longer keep down food or water. The victim would slip away, an empty husk of themselves. No matter all the cures tried, rituals performed, and prayers said, no one survived. They would go from a picture of health to a corpse within a matter of days. It was sudden and brutal. You didn’t know if you preferred it that way. You didn’t know if watching your mother slowly waste away the past few years was worse. In some ways, it would be a relief to see the end of her suffering. It would be hard to mourn, as it felt as if you already had. Delirium was cruel, worse than the plague that had taken Faliene. Delirium taunted its victims, infecting their minds until their thoughts were crazed and jumbled. It was a disease that stripped a person of all their dignity; they were dead long before they took their last breath. If anything, death was a mercy.

Delirium started with forgetting things like names, birthdays, or getting lost in their own home. The symptoms were slow-moving, like a deadly, invisible poison. By the time it was recognized, it was too late. Your mother had forgotten your name and your face years ago. Still, you visited her every night. You watched as the seizures shook her body, with her ladies having to hold her down to stop her from hurting herself. You watched as she sweated through relentless fevers, fearing that she would slip away in the night. The disease was relentless, yet it would not let her escape from its grasp. Tormented by nightmares and fear, your mother would scream and weep all through the night. She would treat you as a stranger, threaten you, and throw things across the room. Yet still, you tried. You would read to her, brush her hair, and stroke her back as she sobbed.

“Lady Y/N,” A voice called, drawing you from your thoughts. You stood outside the doors of your mother's chambers, your chest heaving with every breath. You didn’t get startled easily, no, not anymore. It was, however, too distressing for you to witness hearing your mother scream and shout as she was restrained by her ladies maids and the healers. It shook you to your core, a feeling of restlessness settling over your body as you held in hysteria.

“Your Majesty,” You gasp out, now realizing King Harrison stood across from you. One of the healers must have informed him, or maybe he had heard the screaming. His chamber was not too far from your mother's. They slept separately, for obvious reasons. Despite your mother’s marriage to him being a loveless, political action, King Harrison did seem to care. You had witnessed him visiting her from time to time. He had been so deeply broken by the death of his first wife, much like your mother had been over your father’s death. You wonder if the two of them had bonded over the tragedy in the short time they had together. Had King Harrison been relieved that she had become sick before he truly got to know her? Or had he been upset that he was left with a wife who could not bear him an heir and now had to handle her outspoken daughter? You would never know.

You move to curtsy for him, but he waves you off with the flick of his hand. Your teeth find the tip of your tongue as you try to hold back your surprise. Even if King Harrison cared for some of those around him, he had never particularly cared for you. You had never held it against him or expected it of him. Even if you were his daughter-in-law, he treated you as just another lady in his court. He had let you run wild throughout your teenage years and run circles around the Knights of Galanta, but it seemed that the fun was over. It had only been a few weeks since he announced he expected you to find a husband and leave the castle. You were of age; it made sense. The only ties you had left here was your mother, and she was only holding together by a thread.

King Harrison had been open about his disinterest in helping Faliene beyond what he had already done. He had never offered to send money or men after your mother grew too sick to ask. No, the way he would help would be by blessing your marriage to the nearest lord who would take you. A part of you despised him for it. Rather than face his failures before the people of Faliene, he would bury them. It wasn’t unknown to you that the people of Haiford Court hoped you would settle down once you were married. You were outspoken and too intelligent for your own good.

“Do not trouble yourself.” King Harrison sighs. Reaching into his coat, he hands you a small silken handkerchief. “For your face.” He explains.

You gulp, trying not to flush in embarrassment. Your mother, before her episode, had kindly coughed blood all over your face and dress. In your panic, you had completely forgotten to wipe it from your skin. You utter a quiet ‘thank you’ as you wipe some of the blood from your face, though some of it has already dried and crusted. You would have to return to your chambers and scrub it off with a wet cloth.

“The healers say the blood is the last stage of Delirium.” King Harrison muses as you busy yourself with the handkerchief. “They do not expect her to make it through the winter.”

There is a long pause as you ball the handkerchief up in your fist with a small sigh. You don’t know how to respond; instead, instead nodding wordlessly. His mustache twitches slightly, like he’s anticipating that you would explode into tears. You felt beyond mourning at this point; rather, you felt that you were staring your own death in the face.

“You must marry soon, once she passes, you won’t be able to remain at court.” The King reminds you. It was cruel; it truly was. You roll your tongue over your bottom lip in thought. You were well-known for making snide remarks and hidden insults without a care. You couldn’t let that beast take over in front of King Harrison. He could easily have your head.

“Yes. Of course. I am grateful that you are able to introduce me to Lord Rumlow.” You say, forcing yourself to smile at the man. Inside, you did not feel happy; you felt absolutely powerless.

“I have been in communication with a few more Lords who are… sympathetic to your situation. Provided The Galanta Season goes well, you should be married by spring.” King Harrison continues, and you try to stay present and ignore the dread creeping in your stomach. Sympathetic.

You had done the math quickly years ago, looking at all of the available men in Haiford. Any man who would dare offer to help Faliene were either already married or would be uninterested in you. The war had been a distraction from your impending doom, in the hope that maybe some new, gallant men might be awarded lordships for their efforts. It had proven to be wishful thinking. The reality was that no one cared. You could either marry to secure yourself or return to Faliene penniless and waste away with the last of your people, unable to properly help them due to your gender.

“Thank you for all your help and hospitality, Your Majesty.” You say, trying to keep the bitterness from your tone.

“Of course. I only warn you that during the season you should keep your distance from Sir Rogers. I am aware you two are… acquaintances of a type. I would hate for the Lords asking for your hand to get the wrong impression.” The King’s words feel like a punch to the gut. You know what he is implying. He was implying that Steve was not a suitable match, not because he did not meet your qualifications of having money and land, but because you were too lowly for him. King Harrison did not believe a gallant knight such as Steve deserved to be rewarded with a wife such as yourself. The other lords think the same. They would see you interact with him and assume you were some kind of fling or mistress – a tainted woman. If you thought your options were low now, the implications that you weren’t a virgin would make them even lower.

“I understand.” You say, defeatedly.

“I am glad you understand. I expect Sir Rogers will understand as well. It is a shame, your situation. The two of you would have made a handsome couple.” King Harrison is either completely aware of his cruelty or completely oblivious. You can’t tell. Either way, the comment leaves you winded. Maybe you do despise him, despite all he has done for you. His face is neutral as he steps towards the ajar doors in your mother's chambers. Your mother has settled now; the screaming has turned to soft wailing and sobs.

“I feel it is best I do not dwell on such thoughts, Your Majesty. I understand my position.” You choke out, trying to keep your voice impartial despite the resentment stinging on your tongue.

“You are a smart woman, Lady Y/N. You will do well if you are also agreeable. I shall bid you goodnight now.” King Harrison says with a smile, pushing open the doors to walk through. You hold your face still, not reacting to the obvious insult. You will do well if you are also agreeable.

“Yes, thank you again. Goodnight, Your Majesty.” You mutter as he slips into your mother’s chambers. You quickly leave, heading to your own rooms, before you consider becoming disagreeable.

chapter two

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yourghostwrotethis · 8 months

Text

Fic Recs #1

It's two A.M.. I'm not quite sure what to do because I'm not sleepy. Why not do a small recommendation list?

Actual recs under the cut. Read until the end!

All of these are pre-season 2, and take place in the show universe.

Talk About It (T)

by hope_in_the_dark (on Tumblr as @hope-inthedark)

Aziraphale and Crowley have been best friends for sixteen years. Crowley's been in love with Aziraphale for almost that long. When Aziraphale tells his family that he'll be bringing his boyfriend to his step-brother's wedding, things get a bit complicated. A Fake Dating AU.

Word count: 20806 (Complete)

I love fake dating AUs SO MUCH. And this is for sure one of the best ones out there. It's the perfect length, and there are snapshots through time that are simply lovely. I'm usually not a fan of the "long-time friends" trope, but this fic does it wonderfully. I don't want to say much more because I don't want to spoil anything but - it's great. Read it.

The Curve of Old Bones (E)

by Jenanigans1207 (@jenanigans1207)

Aziraphale watches as Crowley’s smile grows, sharpens and turns distinctively dastardly. And even though Aziraphale knows what he’s in store for, he’s entirely unprepared for the words that slip out of Crowley’s mouth next. “Name’s Anthony Crowley, Aziraphale’s husband.” Aziraphale is eternally grateful that he wasn’t taking a sip of his tea at that exact moment for he would’ve surely choked on it. -- When Crowley claims to be Aziraphale's husband to ruin what he assumes is a date, he doesn't think anything of it. But a day later it comes back to bite him in the ass when Crowley finds out that the date in question is, in fact, his new boss, who is looking to hire Aziraphale and hoping that Crowley, his husband, will put in a good word for them. Now Crowley is caught in a tight spot: either admit to his new boss that he was lying, or convince Aziraphale, his sort-of enemy, to pretend to be his husband to save face.

Words: 201271 (Complete)

Fair warning before you start: this one is LONG. I read really fast and even for me, this took a while. Every word is beautiful, but this is (well. Partly.) a slooooooww burn. If you don't like pining, or the two main ones being idiots: don't read this. But if you decide to give it a go, this story is absolutely worth your while.

Married at First Sight (T)

by Aracloptia (@aracloptia)

“Well, that was a thing,” Crowley said once they were out of earshot. Without talking about it, they were both heading down the field, towards the lake where the photographer (and likely a few more people from the TV crew) was waiting. “That was a wedding,” Aziraphale replied, surprised at his own annoyance that somebody called a wedding a ‘thing’. “Yeah, obviously, didn’t miss that part,” Crowley said with a shrug, and waved abruptly in Aziraphale’s general direction. “Neither did you, from the looks of it, since you’re dressed like a wedding bride and everything.” “Excuse me, I am a—“ Aziraphale stopped himself, and started over.

——— In which Aziraphale ends up marrying a rude stranger who wears sunglasses.

Words: 92583 (Ongoing)

Ha. Yet another fake relationship AU... This time it's a fake marriage! But it's so so so cute and lovely and if it were corporeal I would want to squish its cheeks. There's a bit of miscommunication, so people who don't like that can be cautious, but it gets resolved and they become the better for having gone through it.

The Next Time We Wed (T)

by seashadows (@godihatethisfreakingcat)

“Guys, I’ve looked at the marriage license,” Anathema said, “and I’ve gotten copies of our notices and everything. The names on the documents aren’t Newt’s and mine anymore. Apparently they never were. They’re yours.” When a drunken attempt to help a friend gets Crowley and Aziraphale accidentally married, their decision to fake it instead of fix it changes their relationship in a way neither of them realizes the other wants. Over the course of a few short months, two supernatural beings discover that there are plenty of things they don’t know about each other, two humans finally get married (again), and everyone learns how to be a little braver.

Words: 21131 (Complete)

The footnotes. The FOOTNOTES. I love a good footnote, and this fic is riddled with them. It's one of the very first Good Omens fics I read and loved, so it has a special place in my heart. The humour drew me in immediately, and the plot and emotional moments kept me in. READ IT. READ IT NOW, I SAY.

Everything That's Meant (T)

by journeytogallifrey (@journeytogallifrey)

When two unconventional lead actors are cast in the series adaptation of Agnes Nutter's Prophecies, sparks fly and new ground is broken. Aziraphale Fell, classically trained and known for powerful biopics, yearns for a popular lead but is hindered by his brother's insistence that he stay in the closet. Anthony J. Crowley has perfected flashy, charismatic villains, but wonders if a hero will ever be on the cards for him. With Aziraphale as the angel Raphael and Crowley as the demon Asmodeus, something feels... off. But a breakthrough during a late-night rehearsal sets into motion something greater than they ever dreamed. Now all they have to do is overcome nefarious producers, bigotry, and a set that seems to be haunted by all manner of spirits and curses - all while falling for each other in a way Crowley finds exhilarating and Aziraphale finds terrifying. If they can survive it all, they'll come out the other side with the series of their career... and maybe even a chance at their own happily ever after. ~~~ Pre-written; updates daily until complete!

Words: 105043 (Complete)

I was lucky enough to witness this as it was updating, and it's wonderful! I'm very fond of actor AUs, and this was a great one. Journeytogallifrey made good choices, and there are plenty of moments where I audibly laughed, gasped, or cried. Special mention to Crowley's relationship with gender.

wasteland, baby (M)

by john1513 (@alwayscomewhenyoucall)

“Listen. Fell. I...I might, uh, have an idea.” “You do?” Aziraphale said, and hated the hopeful way he said it. “I’ll do it.” “You...won’t like it.” “Will it keep me out of prison?” “Maybe. Maybe the both of us. For now. Ideally.” “Then yes.” Crowley’s expression tightened, and Aziraphale wasn’t sure if Crowley wanted to cry, or laugh. “You really, really won’t like it.” “I’ll like prison less.” He responded plainly. Crowley’s face twisted into something soft at first, just for a second, before searing into a careful little smirk, and Aziraphale knew that smile, that Cheshire cat smile, much too well to not be cautious. “Crowley, dear. What are you doing on the floor?” He cleared his throat. “Angel. Remember when I said you wouldn’t like it? Well, uh, here we are.” His smile grew awkwardly, apologetically, and Aziraphale had a sinking feeling about it. “Angel. Will you marry me?” ----- Crowley and Aziraphale plan a fake marriage to avoid having to testify against each other in court...they get much more than they bargained for.

Words: 45748 (Complete)

I found this while looking for fake relationships, but I'm not quite sure the term applies. It's just so sweet and kind and GOOD and fluffy. If you like both being nice, go here. And even if you don't. It's technically a mafia AU even though I forgot about that part so there's a little bit of grittiness nonetheless. Overall a very nice read.

And finally, for the last one...

Fifty-Two Blue (M)

by bendycello (@bendycello )

It would be a gross understatement to say that Crowley simply didn't like Aziraphale. He was posh and stuffy and arrogant, and Crowley couldn't figure out why everyone else in the program liked him so much. It hardly mattered; they were competitors, and Crowley didn't need to make friends to become a surgeon. It takes several unleasant encounters, the excessive use of house plants as a coping mechanism, and getting stuck in an elevator for Crowley to start reconsidering his priorities. Or... Crowley and Aziraphale are surgical interns with competitive streaks a mile wide each, and they really do not like each other at all. Until they do. (This whole fic is pre-written and completed, and updates will usually be weekly on Saturdays!)

Words: 37976 (Ongoing)

So. Anyone who knows me well knows that this is on my mind 24/7. I post about it fairly regularly. I go insane when a new chapter is up. It's *The* Fic. When I started this I knew this was going to be there. I can't even describe it it's just SO GOOD ARGH. (it's also long) I've read it so much Chrome automatically sorted it into one of my most visited websites. (I'm not even kidding.) The humour is perfect, the plot is too, the CHARACTERISATION. OH MY GOD. IT'S SO GOOD AND SO COMPLEX. I'm trying to stop myself from going on a rant about it because it could last for a while.

I also love receiving recs, so if anyone wants to boost their fic or wants to share a great one, please do!

I really like fake dating (if you couldn't guess), human AUs, all that sort of thing. But please feel free to share anything that doesn't deal with those themes!

I'm OwlWolf22091 on Ao3, in case you want to check out other bookmarks :P

#me #it's 3 am now 😂#good omens #fic #fic rec #fr1

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nalyra-dreaming · 3 months

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Who is your favorite and least favorite IWTV series, movie, and book character and why?

Hey nonny!

(There's two ways of reading your question, so I'm just gonna answer both versions^^)

My favorite is the new IWTV series, the revamping (ha, pun^^), of the characters, arcs, books in and by themselves while keeping the important bits and elevating it all to art is breathtaking. I love how clever it is, how much it subverts some tropes, how it plays with the meta level by giving us the books Louis reads, or what is laying around in the set behind characters. Hints over hints, and every friggin' line counts. Show of the decade, truly.

I will always love the 1994 movie, since it was what introduced me to the Chronicles, I cannot tell you the state I was in after I came home from the theater. I watched it daily as soon as I could get it on tape, I shit you not. (Easily Tom Cruise's best performance, too, imho, as a note^^)

And I waited years for the sequel... only to get Queen of the Damned. Ahem.

I am sorry, but that has to be my least favorite of it all, though Aaliyah was breathtaking. And the soundtrack was good.

Now character-wise...interestingly enough book-Louis came to mind immediately. He is (probably) my least favorite. And I say that as a fan *laughs* He is just... IDK. I know the history behind it, and I know the pain Anne must have been in (and which I do not dare to imagine), and I know why she had to leave him behind... but even though he has his reasons, too, they never really resonated with me. And neither did his backstory. As a vessel he works very well, because he is empty in IWTV, or he feels so for me, but as a character I do not feel him.

Thankfully the show version has completely eclipsed him for me, and I can finally enjoy who Louis truly is and who he will become - quite the feat I have to say, and I love, love, LOVE them for it.

All in all Lestat is probably the character who is my favorite though, not the least because he can be so capricious. There are... parallels to my own life, parallels the show will yet touch upon in future seasons. When I read The Vampire Lestat I felt those in my bones. It doesn't matter here if show, 1994 movie or book, though of course Sam... IS Lestat now. ^^ Season 1, filtered through Louis' (influenced) POV was only a hint after all, and... Lestat is yet to fully appear.

I do not really have characters that I don't like in the show - every character they have is very well cast, and very poignant in their function for the story, even the repugnant ones. They vibe. Maybe there will be a future show character I do not like in and by "themselves", but... I actually doubt it. They're so terrific at casting.

In the movie it is the same, on the contrary, I always remember here that Christian Slater jumped in for the late River Phoenix, and donated his salary, so there is always a warm feeling when watching him. For example. Antonio Banderas did have the gravitas and managed to... insinuate at least.^^ And watching that scene with the girl on stage in the theater, totally unprepared was something else. There was no sound in the theater. NONE. Absolutely breathtaking.

Now QotD of course... (the movie). Where should I start *laughs*. I said it before, but maybe the best thing that came of it was Sam getting into the VC through it. The worst was probably Armand there, lol. Not sure if he ever says anything in the theater cut (I know there were scenes cut), but... just...

So yeah.

Show characters and show have taken over^^. Will continue to take over, too, I bet. I cannot wait.

#Anonymous #asks #ask nalyra #amc iwtv #iwtv #amc interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire amc #iwtv amc #iwtv 2022 #interview with the vampire #the vampire chronicles #vc #vampire chronicles

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whatbusiness · 1 year

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ahead of the s2 release, here are a few incoherent thoughts based on absolutely nothing while i have some time to jot them down during my snow day: (gv book spoilers ahead, so skip for now if you’re a show only fan!)

above all else, i’m just excited to have these characters back in new (and yet still familiar) ways

i do not need this to be a perfect season. it won’t be. no one should be expecting that. speaking entirely right now about the crows and their duology, we have two perfect books to go back to. nothing that happens in this show could “ruin” anything from SoC or CK because they are two different entities

i am scared of the kaz and jordie flashbacks in a way that i have never been scared of anything in my entire life. there is sheer terror coursing through my veins right now.

i know. i just know. that genya’s arc will end my entire life this season. if i hear the words “i am not ruined. I am ruination” delivered by daisy within the next 48 hours i will be ascending to another plane of existence

whatever kanej content we get this season WILL cause a medical emergency for me and i know this

wylan. that’s it, that’s the tweet. wylan.

trying to prepare for my helnik brain cells to be beaten to shit this season

remembering that we also get jesper flashbacks just made me doordash tissues to my apartment

just know this. any zoyalai interactions will have consequences that range so far. that are so intense. the shockwaves will be felt far and wide.

i want unhinged kaz this season and i had better get it. just absolutely wild. cane beatdowns left and right. merciless. irrational. ruthless. give it to us.

i am wholly unprepared to see nikolai living the persona he enjoys most. knowing what’s ahead for him and how much he yearns for these moments in the future. not ready for THAT! wait. if this season covers books 2 and 3 are we going to see demon!nikolai. oh FUCK. oh fuck oh fuck. why did i not consider this before literally right now.

in summary, we are fucked. good luck out there everyone. NMNF.

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sunnydayzes · 7 months

Text

A Supernatural Coming of Age Drama taking place in the town of Millhaven. The #Portsim Save file belongs to @florwal. All lore involving the town and the people in it, besides my own creative liberties, my characters, and supernatural lore, belongs to them. This story will be rated R and will contain several adult themes; including but not limited to teen pregnancy, drug abuse, and sexual themes. I will do my best to tag trigger warnings as they come up to hopefully prevent hurting anyone with my story.

Lyla Frye's entire life changed when her mother, Delilah, passed away from a long fight against an autoimmune disease that left her confined to her bed for years. The seventeen year old girl lost her home, and without any real family to turn to, she was forced out onto the streets to fend for herself. Before she could be taken away into foster care, Lyla gathered all of the money she had, a little over 500 dollars, and made her way to the local trailer park in an attempt to find a place to call home.

What Lyla doesn't know, however, is that because of her mother's passing, things are about to get very strange for her. She never knew much about her father, as he had disappeared when she was only two years old, but his legacy had been something that had haunted her for her entire life. Being a Frye came with responsibilities that she had no clue about, and she was unprepared for the challenges that awaited her. Surprises await around every corner for the young girl, and just like the phases of the moon, she would learn that change is inevitable - whether you're prepared for it or not.

PART ONE:NEW MOON - COMING SOON

Author's Notes Below The Cut!

Hi there!

If you are still reading this I wanted to say thank you. Phases is a story idea I've had in my mind for years. I've always wanted to implement it into Simblr, but I am admittedly not the best at world building nor am I the best at designing houses/decorating in this game. Making characters/giving them backstories is what I'm best at, and I'm still working on improving that skill.

So, when I came across this save file the other day, I was so inspired. I spent hours going over all of the lore that @florwal had already added into this save file, and I was shocked at how well it had always fitted the idea I had for my character, Lyla, and her story, which I've always called Phases.

I've really struggled with sticking with something/being consistent on Simblr, and honestly I think it's because I just don't enjoy doing challenges. I try to turn everything into a story and sometimes the stories just don't fit with what the confines of the challenge allow. I also simply haven't had the time I wish I had.

I work a full time job that is very demanding, and I don't often have time for gaming. But in an attempt to get back into writing, something that I've been struggling with the last few years despite how much I love it, and to find some joy outside of my work, I've decided to focus on telling Lyla's story - a story I've always wanted to tell and just haven't had the courage to.

I can't wait to start sharing this story with you all. I don't have a set date on when this will start, but I'm hoping to start posting this in October, as this is the perfect season for this story. Thank you for reading and I look forward to sharing this story that is almost a decade in the making.

With Love,

Tiffers

#story: phases #c: lyla frye #portsim #millhaven #sims story #sims 4 story #ts4 story #oh i am so nervous to be posting this #i've just been wanting to write this for so long #i'm tired of being scared #i want to write and i'm going to do it #and i hope you guys love it #:3

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 2 years

Text

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet

Chapter Six: Will You Be Mine?

Summary- 8.7k Curtis Everett x Plus!Sized Reader. You ask if Curtis would like to do one of your favorite things- go pick out some pumpkins to start really embracing the Halloween season. Curtis and You get to enjoy being in one another's company which helps Curtis realize that he himself is ready for taking the next step in this relationship.

Warnings- Reader having personal internal debates about herself. Sexual activities. This is an 18+ Only Blog

A/N- Well there is no hiding that Curtis and Reader are going to be intimate in this chapter and frankly I'm excited for them to have reached this far in their growing relationship. It's been a journey already writing for these two. Thank you so much to everyone reading, commenting, and reblogging. Just reading your thoughts gives me so much joy, especially when someone just finds something they relate to. Thank you so much @what-is-your-plan-today for editing my work and dropping your thoughts before posting. Moodboard at the end was made by @xxindiglow. (Which I love so much, thank you!) Dividers made by @firefly-graphics.

Chapter Five / Masterlist

“Okay scarf, check. Jacket. Mhm. Papers…” Doing a mental checklist at your desk while gathering your stuff, Claude popped in your classroom with a loud sigh of relief.

“Listen, TGIF, am I right?!” She perched on one of the students desks while you grabbed your kids' latest homework assignments and put them in your bag. “What are your big plans this weekend?”

You closed your bag and took one last scan to make sure you had everything. “Well Curtis and I are going out Saturday for the day, so tonight I’m just at home with netflix and grading papers. What about you?”

Claude gave a smirk and wiggled her brows. “How about Y/N, you come out with us tonight and Sunday you can grade those? Please? It’s been much too long.” She pleaded with a flutter of her lashes and clasped her hands together like in a prayer. “It sounds like Curtis isn't stealing you away tonight.”

“No, he is doing a dart tournament tonight, his friend signed him up without knowing about it.” You chuckled as you shouldered your bag, considering Claude's offer. “Sure, just text me where you want to meet up.”

“Sounds like a girls' night to me.” Claude got up to follow you out. This time you were sure you would have a way to properly get yourself home. Last time you had gotten lucky that Curtis happened to be at the bar that night, but you didn’t want to be unprepared again.

Curtis bustled into Paulie’s with a muttered ‘Hey’ to his old friend at the bar. Edgar saw him from across the room and waved him over. Paul immediately handed a cold beer over to Curtis with a tip of his head towards the darts.

“Kid has been yammering for the past hour about this.”

Curtis chose this moment to take a long drink, get himself started on that buzz he was probably gonna need for this sudden tournament Edgar signed him up for. “Keep these coming Paul.” He motioned to his beer before approaching his friends. Curtis eyed the other team, who were indeed wearing matching shirts. A glance at Edgar showed he had not gone that far yet, but it was only a matter of time until he made some.

“Are you ready Buddy?” Edgar said excitedly as he gathered the three of them around a small table. “We are going to kick ass.”

Grey, in an effort to reel Edgar back in, responded with a gentle reminder. “In a good sportsman-like way.”

“Yeah of course. But… I got some money on this, so we gotta give it our best shot.” Edgar shot a look at the group they were going up against. Curtis shrugged out of his coat and pulled off his beanie to hang them off the back of a chair.

“Do I even wanna know how much you put on this game?” Grey questioned.

“Or who you even got to bet with you?” Curtis countered while Edgar pulled out a box and popped it open to find a brand new set of darts.

“A little incentive present to do your best, because we are the best. And Paul is taking bets if you guys wanna place some. Good chance to earn a few extra bucks.”

Curtis gave it some thought, they were pretty good at this game. “I could use some extra cash.” He left the table to wander over to Paul, pulling out his wallet and handing him some bills. The barkeeper promptly tucked it away and marked the total in a notebook he had on him.

“If you guys win, you are looking to make a good profit.”

“That's the plan.” Curtis slipped his wallet away and Paul leaned against the bar having a lull moment.

“You know, we have a big back yard behind this bar. This summer I’m thinking of doing an axe throwing stand if there is enough interest. You look like someone who can chuck an axe.”

“I don't know, never tried, but I would be willing.” Curtis gave a nod, Paulie grinned wide with enthusiasm.

“Good! Spread the word, I want this to be the summer hangout this year. With you guys willing to play in competition, I already have the darts on lockdown in downtown.”

Curtis flashed him a thumbs up while pulling away from the bar, digging out his phone on his way back to the table to see Honey highlighted.

Kick ass and take names tonight.

He paused at the table, sitting on one of the high stools while typing out. You sound like Edgar now.

Edgar and I could be on a team then. We would win it for ya 💪

Hmm, that's an idea. You all do the work, I can reap the benefits. I did put money on this game.

See, more incentive to win then.

Edgar came over, pushing the brand new darts towards Curtis. “You ready?”

“Sure, give me a second. Just texting my girl.”

Edgar got a sly grin hearing Curtis. “Oooh, now it's ‘my girl’. Wait till I tell Tanya.”

“You’re a fucking idiot.” Curtis muttered while finishing up. See you in the morning, be safe out tonight. Need anything give me a call.

I should be fine, I was sure to have my own car this time and not get stranded like last time… although it seemed to work out pretty good for me. Got myself a dart throwing, truck driving, steady job boyfriend…

Curtis laughed reading your message. No complaints here Honey. How else was I gonna get me a Pretty Girl on my arm, all respectable and shit being a teacher? Have fun. Putting his phone away, he grabbed the darts. “Are we playing or what?”

Saturday morning had you up excitedly, thankful for not suffering a hangover that you were sure Claude would be nursing. This time she stuck around with you for the night although she got rather drunk and kept promising she wasn’t leaving you again. During that rant, you assured her that it was okay, and last time you were perfectly fine. You were able to get her back home all in one piece and inside to bed. Before leaving, you raided her medicine shelf in the bathroom for aspirin and a tall glass of water to leave on her nightstand. You had yet to get a text from her, not really expecting one for a few hours still.

But for you, you had plans that a hangover would have ruined. Curtis had been sure to inform you that he would be picking you up in the morning as soon as you had told him how you wanted to start properly getting ready for Halloween. While you were dressing, you kept an eye out the window for his truck as well as your phone for a message from him. As soon as he pulled into the apartments’ lot, you grabbed your coat and headed down the stairs, your mood turning giddy.

You exited the apartment complex sporting a scarf around your neck and tying the front of your coat closed. You looked so enthusiastic that Curtis couldn't help but break out in a smile of his own. “Well someone is excited.” He made it around the truck fast enough to pop open the door for you and you pressed a kiss to his bristled cheek, his hand fell on your waist to guide you into the truck so you could settle in the seat.

“I missed out doing this the last couple of years.” You bubbled with excitement, which was infectious as Curtis leaned against your open door, basking in it. “I’m just happy you agreed to go with me.” It had been the right call seeing just how genuinely happy doing this made you, he would have agreed to anything at that moment just to see that smile of yours. “I said I wanted to get pumpkins and you were all for it.”

“Well, there is a first for everything.”

In the middle of buckling in, you twisted in your seat to face him just before he could get the door closed. “You never did all this?” Your brows arched up high, your quizzical look making him hide a laugh, although you could see the way his eyes crinkled in the corners, unable to hide that away.

“Well a first for me in many years, Honey. I did always make sure to have some candy on the porch steps for the kids though.”

Your hand reached out to brush against his cheek, giving a sigh as your palm cupped against his bristled cheek. You put on a sympathetic smile as if he didn’t know what he was getting into with you. “Oh Curtis, well that is about to change.”

Now that made him laugh out loud. “I’m looking forward to it Y/N.”

You had googled the best place to go, which took the two of you out of the city area and a few towns over. The drive was quick, with you both admiring the scenery, the road leading you along the great lakes’ shore line, passing little lakeside camps and docks that you took note of for the future explorations. When you arrived, the GPS took you right through the town’s mainstreet, which you admired the quaint little town with a wistful desire. “I always wanted to live in a little place like this. I don't know, it always just feels like a family kind of place, you know.”

“It’s so much smaller than Duluth.” Curtis admitted as they bypassed what looked like a mom and pop gas station, an old church in the center of town, a town garage with junk cars scattered around it, and lots of homes in various stages. “I wouldn’t mind living in a place like this.” The GPS had the truck turn up some old dirt road outside of the town, requiring them to slow down and really admire the landscape.

You thought about what he said, considering where he was living now. “Would you want to sell your grandparents?”

Curtis was quiet for a moment thinking about your question. “I know the place needs a lot of work and its just outside of the city but no. It was my family home, basically Ella’s. We have all our memories there, I’m not ready to let all that go. Maybe, if I had my own family- wife and kids, I would feel different?” He shrugged a shoulder and then glanced at you with some concern. “God I didn’t freak you out did I?”

Anything but, you found all that sentimental feeling really endearing. “Not at all. I think it’s really nice that you get to live there. As you said, that’s where you grew up, it’s always been your home. One of the few things I still appreciate about going back to New York is that my parents’ house feels like going home.” You admitted and he reached over to take your hand, giving a slight squeeze.

“Was it a big deal for you, coming all the way out here?”

You glanced down at his hand wrapped around yours, it was large, swallowing yours. Callouses were rough against your softer skin, but not in a biting way that made you want to retreat. In the past much softer, but equally strong hands made you pull back all the time. No, you wanted to feel his touch trail against your sensitive parts, making you chase after him with a plea for more. The flutters in your chest made you feel light and airy in the moment. You've had held his hand plenty of times now, but it still made you feel excitement and overall safe. “Yeah, it was. I had never moved this far before. But it was time, I was just kind of drifting in life at that point having just split up and when I was offered the teaching job at Mason’s I took it.” You tilted your head back against the seat, thinking about that time, hard to think of it as less than a year ago now, but it felt like a lifetime. “Jade was so proud of me, been telling me I needed to leave. Kept offering me to come live with her and her boyfriend, Frank, in Florida but they didn’t need me imposing on them.”

Curtis offered another glance at you, a crease in his brow with concern. “Don’t get me wrong Honey, I’m glad you came this way. But how would you be imposing?”

You fought the urge to wipe away that worried line in his brow. His focus going back to manoeuvring the truck along the dirt road. “Jade likes to play mother hen. She feels the need to fix things. It can be overbearing at times.”

“Ahh, okay I get that. Ella feels sometimes she can run my life better than I can. Before meeting you, she was always trying to set me up on dates.”

You smirked in response. “Well good thing I came around then, that just sounds… so awful for you.”

Curtis rolled his eyes, huffing at your cheeky answer. “It was when she basically threatened to put me on a dating app after the last few failed dates she set me up on.” He narrowed his eyes at you. “Don’t get me wrong Honey, all the ladies were lovely people. It just wasn’t something I wanted.”

You let that sink in, just as you had suspected, Curtis had no problem finding himself dates. Apparently Ella had basically been setting him up with perfectly nice eligible women. But he bypassed all of them. Until he met you.

He chose you.

The GPS on your phone chimed, making you glance down at it and breaking you out of your thoughts, an excited grin breaking out. “It should be-” You glanced around out the windshield trying to catch some sight of this farm you had seen online. “-around this corner.” You said as he bypassed a barn and sure enough once you turned the corner, there was a stand all set up with fields of orange, white and green pumpkins stretching around it. At the stand it appeared to be loaded with baked goods, jars of canned goods and a hot drink station. You shut off the GPS system to keep it from announcing that you had arrived at your destination.

You had that same expression on your face of pure joy as before. Earlier in the week you said that this is where your “dorkiness” is going to be bad, but Curtis wouldn't have changed a thing about how happy you were. For him it was another part of you he got to enjoy. “So how many pumpkins are we bringing back with us?” Curtis asked you as you two left the truck and started to wander into the field.

“Mmmh, I want at least three. One for my apartment, I'm carving one for your porch because you have the most perfect porch to decorate and it's a shame to let it go to waste.” You weaved your fingers with his and he shook his head at you.

“What am I gonna do with a pumpkin?” he gave your hand a slight squeeze in return.

“You light it up Curtis. It looks nice, Halloween- like.” You paused to check out one particularly orange one. “Then I want a small one for my desk at school.”

“You really do love all this.” He observed, which had you nodding while leaning over to half roll one over, looking it over. To him it looked perfect, which seemed to have no interest for you.

“Absolutely, its my favorite time of year.” Bypassing that one, you two moved onto another. When you rolled it, you deemed it perfectly imperfect with its mishappen body and varying coloring of orange making it look speckled. “I want this one.”

Curtis took out a small blade from a pouch on his belt and flicked it open to cut the stem, gathering it up in his arm to carry back to the front. You kept looking around, picking out a few more of varying sizes. The longer you stayed, the more people came with their families. While you were wandering the field, Curtis having brought a couple more to the front with your first choice, you started helping others pick out the perfect ones for them as well.

Curtis got to see you just enjoying yourself without any inhibitions. You started helping some kids pick some out and talking animatedly with the parents. You seemed to notice Curtis was no longer at your side and paused halfway through the field, turning to look over your shoulder to see where he was, and as soon as you saw him, you smiled. Just for him.

When your eyes locked onto his, it was just like he was once more seeing you get off that bus, a warm energy that made him crave to bask in your presence, wanted to spend all his time wrapped up in you.

So that's exactly what he went to do.

You two finished with a final stop at the stand. Curtis stood behind you with his arms wrapped around you while you chose a few things to bring home as well as the pumpkins you chose- bags of frosted sugar cookies in the shapes of autumn leaves and pumpkins, fresh cider donuts and a couple jars of jam and apple butter. You also got to go cups to make yourselves something hot to drink before heading back home.

Settling with making both of you coffee while Curtis loaded up the back of the truck with the pumpkins you chose, he even relented and got a few extra so you could decorate his porch how you wanted, you two started for home once more. Curtis was grateful for the hot coffee and on the ride home you shared a donut with him, offering him sugared bites from your fingers that he was sure to suck the sugar off your fingertips a time or two, teasing the sugar off your fingertips with the tip of his tongue.

Opting to stop at Paulie’s before going back to your apartment to unwind, you two were able to get seats at the bar where Paul was sure to wave at the two of them, signalling Curtis to come around. “Come make yourself useful Everett.”

“I'm here on a date?” Curtis countered as he yanked off his jacket. “You don't even pay me to do this.”

“I give you plenty of free beers. My help comes in twenty minutes. Just cut me some slack. Y/N doesn't care, do ya?” Paul asked with a desperate note in his tone, like having Curtis on the other side of the bar would save him.

You gave a shake of your head and Curtis glared at you, making you grin at him and nudge him. “Go get me a beer stud.”

“Right away Ma’am.” He huffed and playfully squeezed at your hip before making his way around to the other side of the bar. “What can I get ya?”

“Hmmm, anything you recommend.” You gathered his coat and hat off his old seat and pulled them across your lap to free up the bar since it was getting busier. Curtis turned around to glance at the shelf of stuff Paul had on hand. Picking up a bottle of Jack Daniels, he poured you both a shot. “That’s certainly not a beer Curtis. You trying to get me drunk?” You grabbed yours and held it up, clinking it with his and tipped it back all to once that left you licking your lips afterward, your face scrunching just a bit from the burn.

Curtis saw you take that challenge without any hesitation and damn it was hot how you tilted your head back to shoot the liquor between your sweet tempting lips. He didn't take his eyes off you the whole time he took his own. “Better then beer Honey, hits just right.” He winked while he set the bottle near you. “Keep the bottle, Paul said it was on the house.”

“Not the whole bottle Curtis!” Paul shouted from across the bar and you poured yourself another, not nearly as full but enough to burn still in the best way while it was going down. Curtis winked at you as he moved away, starting to take drink orders.

This was the first time you saw him behind the bar. He had a knack for it, pulling out bottles and unscrewing the tops to flick them into a bucket nearby. Curtis easily chatted with customers, and you started to see him yet another side of him. These were regulars you assumed, he knew their names, asking about theirspouses, how the kids were doing or how work was going for them. Often his eyes would dart from where he was making drinks to check in that you were all okay amongst all that was going on,

You thoughts wandered to how you once thought his eyes were icy blue when you first met? You were so wrong. They were vibrant and made your heart skip a beat whenever he made eye contact.

Not for the first time you were getting turned on just watching him. The longer you did the more you wanted to bring him home and explore what was under that black tee shirt he was wearing and run your hands on his bare chest and feel him fuck you right into your mattress. Or couch, whichever you two ended up making it to first. The thought alone made you squeeze your thighs together as your panties started to stick to you, selfishly wishing for yourself that maybe tonight was the night you both would be ready.

Curtis wandered back down to where you were squirming in your seat, moving to lean on his elbows and hover closer to you. His eyes had a playful look to them, the corner of his mouth uplifted looking at you. “Can’t believe you are all alone down here. Let this lonely fellow buy you a drink?”

You leaned forward, whispering in a conspiracy. “My date will be back any second. He is six’ four and intimidating as hell. You better watch yourself mister.”

Curtis huffed, his chest puffing out slightly. “I can take him, his punk ass aint got nothing on me.”

You let your eyes rake over him suggestively, warmth shooting straight to your core. “You're really confident and that is sexy as fuck. I will let you buy me a drink.”

He didn't know if it was the couple shots of Jacks you took or something else, but the suggestive tug of your bottom lip between your teeth and the sultry glances you have been giving had him on edge. But it was just the start on top of so many other things that made Curtis want more with you. In the time he had known you, you’d become part of his happiness and he wanted to explore what that could mean for him and for you as well. He had seen glimmers of sadness from you in passing, when you seemed to recall something from before and it struck him in a way no one else had ever done so. Overall, he wanted to be the one to replace those memories with better ones. Ones with him.

So he was ready he decided to see where the next step in this relationship would take the two of you. As he picked out a beer for you and you brushed your hands against his, your sweet lips wrapping around that bottle, well a man can only handle so damn much. “Once you finish that, wanna head out?”

You enthusiastically nodded and tilted your head back, the beer going down a lot quicker. “Fuck.” Curtis muttered to himself in awe at the way you were downing that bottle. He looked over at Paul. “A'ight headed out.”

Paul gave him a thumbs up and then Curtis came out from behind the bar and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you beside him. “Wait, wait…” You juggled his coat in your arms and twisted back to your seat, grabbing the bottle of Jack. “Thanks Paul!” You shouted out, waving the mostly full bottle for him to see.

“Hey! I told you guys can’t have the whole bottle!”

“Consider it my payment Paul.” Curtis held the door open and you ducked out with your prize, laughing.

Back at your apartment doorway, Curtis had you pinned against it, hands to your hips, his body flush against yours as he kissed you feverishly, tilting his head to nip at your jaw and you giggled out at the sensation. The door was nice, but tonight you wanted more. And hoped Curtis would too.

“Curtis, wait…” You whimpered out as he was working a particular sensitive spot near your ear that was making you rub against him. Your hand cupped the back of his head as he lifted away from you, pupils blown almost black in his own arousal. “Do you want to stay the night?” Your eyes searched his, hoping for that yes and fearful of the rejection you always were half expecting, even when you knew better that voice still taunted you.

He will never want you Y/N.

Curtis knew his answer, known it basically all damn day he has been with you. He let his hands travel up your body and cup your face, kissing you once more, leaving you breathless. “Yes, I'm not ready for today to end Honey.”

Your hand fell along the door behind you and with a twist of the doorknob, you both fell into your apartment, the door slamming heavily behind the two of you.

Once inside Curtis pulled you in close, backing you into the nearest wall as his mouth went back to flushing kisses up your neck, your jawline to the corner of your mouth. “Bedroom?” He asked and you nodded, pulling on his t shirt that you admired so much earlier to pull it off over his head. You had been daydreaming about his big broad chest since you met in the freight yard, wanting nothing more than to rub your hands against him and explore him. That night at his place when you got to see him in his tank, you caught a glimpse of what was underneath, muscled pecs, a dark scattering of hair leading to his belly when his shirt was ridden up, some tattoos that you desperately want to explore.

What you weren't expecting was how intricate some of these tattoos covering his chest were as you dropped the offending tee on the floor of your living room. Your eyes went wide as you pulled back to see how far down he went with that ink, your hands spanning over his chest, giving a small breathy ‘Oh.’ Intricate designs scattered across him, some of them forming symbols that you had seen in his books that he read. Your fingers splayed over them, sliding up to where his medallion rested against the center of his chest. The chain was long, your fingers curling in the metal as you look up at him wide eyed.

“You like?” He arched a brow curiously, his hands settling on your hips, fingers flexing against your curves like they were all that was keeping him in check right now.

“Very Curtis, I plan on exploring them very thoroughly. Later.” You gave a tug on that chain, dragging him back to you and your tongue licking into his mouth. Curtis groaned into it, shifting his hands to clasp your ass and further down to the back of your thighs. It completely caught you by surprise when he lifted you, your legs being pulled around his waist and you were sure your thick thighs were crushing his slim waist. “Curtis!” He smirked as he pulled you off the wall and you clung to him. “You can’t just carry me!”

“I can, and I will, easily.” He went into your bedroom and lowered you to your bed, crawling over the top of you and continuing once again where he left off with you. Nipping at your neck while pulling your top up and over your head to drop beside the bed, your hands went to his belt to start to unbuckle it. “I don’t wanna be hearing I can’t carry around my girl when I want to.”

Your hands worked his belt and button open before grabbing at the waist of his jeans to push them down, digging your nails into his taunt ass and pressing down to grind him against you. “What did you just call me?”

His fingers skated down your sides almost teasingly while he dragged his beard against your collarbone, the soft moments his lips touched your skin a soothing balm against the burn he left behind. The coolness of his chain dragging against your made you shiver with the anticipation. Curtis spread loving kisses across the tops of your breasts spilling out the top of your bra, fingers dipping into the band of the pants you were wearing. “My girl.” He lifted his head to look at you. Blue eyes imploring.

My girl, did you want to be his? His hands felt like he was worshiping you, his mouth exploring the taste of your skin, trying to draw out your moans as his own personal hymn. There was a hopeful look in his eyes, that your next answer could make him a blessed man. Curtis made it so fucking easy to want to be his and it was something you actually desperately wanted. So saying yes…

Well that would be easy.

“I want to be that Curtis.”

He broke in a grin, his whole face lightening up as he surged forward to catch a kiss. You arched up to reach him while his hand dipped against your back and a twist of his fingers had the clasp of your bra releasing. Pulling away from you, he sat back on his heels. Curtis hooked a finger under your bra straps to pull them down, letting your bra fall away. “You're so beautiful Honey.”

You scrunch your nose up at him, heated doubt tickling in the back of your mind, and making you twist your mouth. Although your bedroom was dark, he was able to see you enough still and that made you nervous of exactly how much he really was able to see of you. Your hands suddenly didn't know where to go, or what to do. You suddenly wished your bra was still there, covering you in a way that made you pleasing to look at. Your body was being exposed layer by layer and you didn’t quite have a place to hide your imperfections anymore. Your rolls would show, the flab on your arms would jiggle when you lifted them to reach for Curtis, your thighs cellulite would dimple in a way that you dreaded Curtis even noticing, your breasts not having support wouldn’t stay the perfect round shape that the bras support could give, how your stomach drooped lower then it should. Why did you agree to this? Especially with Curtis looking like a god above you. Even in his small imperfections he looked like some kind of rugged model while you couldn’t even offer him sexy imperfections.

You were soft everywhere and your body carried the scars littering across your skin in stretch marks.

Weakly you covered yourself, shaking your head a bit. You weren’t beautiful, you just weren't and he was going to look at you and see that truth any second now.

Curtis witnessed the way his words just struck you, a whiplash of some kind. He reached for your wrists, circling his fingers around to tug gently. “Y/N, look at me.” He shifted upwards a bit, pressing your hands back to his chest, his arm holding him up while hovering over you. “You are up in your head right now, I need you here with me.”

Imploring eyes made you look at him and you took a breath to help shut the thoughts up. You were so tense under him that when you relaxed, you sunk a little further into the mattress. Your hands started exploring him again, brushing through the thick mat of dark hair sprinkled on his chest to twirl a finger around a pink nipple. Glided over a softer belly that had a line of dark hair leading down into his now loosened pants. “I’m with you Curtis.” You said loud enough for the both of you, an assurance for both of you perhaps.

The ghosting of your fingers was a blessed tease to say the least, but Curtis held himself in check as you loosened back up, just as he thought, you had started thinking too much about unsaid fears when all he wanted was for you to touch him, to start taking what you wanted and not concern yourself with what he was thinking. Your thumb pressed against the lines cutting against his pelvis, leading down till your fingers curled over the bulge at the front of his pants. “Fuck Honey, see what you do to me? Drive a man crazy.”

You squeezed him, all wide eyed wonders gazing up at him as he groaned with a dip of his head back to you to tease your lips all while rocking his hips enough to press his hard on against you. “No one’s ever told me that before.”

“Well I'm never gonna shut up about it.” A hand curved around your hip and slid up to cup one of your breasts, squeezing his palm against you as he pressed his mouth open to the top of it, sucking on the supple flesh, press of teeth leaving a bit of a mark and then a soothing caress of tongue, you let your head fall back with closed eyes to let the feeling of him over take you.

He glanced up from where he had his mouth lay claim to your nipple, quick flicks soon had you hard and sensitive, clutching at his shoulders while your back arched to give him more of you, which fed his greediness. He didn't just want more, he wanted all. A rush of kisses across heated skin left you shivering when the air chilled your now thoroughly loved breasts. Between his hands and his mouth, you never felt so consumed by a man. “I could just love on you all fucking day.” He growled as he pulled back further, his chin dragging down the center of your body, even as his hand still massaged against your breast, rubbing your pebbled nipple to escape between his fingers till he dragged a massive palm back over them, making you whine. “You fit in my hands so good Y/N.”

Here was where you were grateful for the darkness in the room, as much as you would love to see how blown his vibrant expressive eyes were or the swollen bottom lip peeking from the dark beard covering half his face, you weren’t ready to sacrifice him being able to view you to closely. Maybe he wouldn’t notice the stretch marks covering your belly, the overhang of your lower belly or the pudge of your mound that you always felt was unattractive. In the dark of your bedroom you might be able to hide this from to close inspection.

A touch to your hip, a slight squeeze that dragged you out of your thoughts. Causing you to lift your head, you could see enough of Curtis to tell that he was close to you, listening to the catch in your breaths. His fingers curved into the band of your pants and panties to start easing them down, his breaths hot as he got closer to your more intimate areas. “Curtis…” Your voice hitched with uncertainty while he eased your pants off, first one leg, then the other. He pressed his touch in your softer inner thighs, seeming to appreciate the plushness and heat that was there, the way he had to press against them to spread them apart as they quivered in anticipation. You felt your pussy ache, a wet rush making you practically drip your essence because of this man.

He kissed the fleshy part of your hip, humming in question to you. “Do you want me to stop?” He was willing to, if you were not okay with this. But Curtis ached for you, wanted to feel every inch of you in his hold. Curtis was patient, and he kept his touch away from your core till you told him that you were ready.

“No, I'm just… god I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm like this.” You stammered out. Your hands going to the back of his head and scratching lightly at his scalp.

Curtis wasn't upset by any means, it was understandable to be nervous for your first time together and he lifted himself enough so you could meet his eyes. “Deep breath Honey and you tell me what you like as I do it.” Gripping your chin, he pulled you up enough to kiss you, his tongue stroking yours till you melted into him, going breathless.

“I liked that.” You teased him which made him give a chuckle while he moved to a stand and reaching in his pocket pulled out a couple condoms to place nearby on the bed.

“In case we need them. And that is good to know you like to be kissed. I have to say it makes me feel fucking mindless wanting you when you kiss me.” He shucked his pants down, along with his boxers. You wished you could see his erection, having felt how thick he was through his sweats when you two grinded together on his couch. You could see enough to tell that it was curling up towards his belly as he stroked it a couple of times, settling back on the bed and moving back over you. You let your thighs spread for him to settle in close to you, his thumb now stroking that soft pudgy spot of your mound, dragging the pad of his thumb down to your slit.

Here you gasped, tugging your bottom lip in between your teeth when his fingers found that spot. That bundle of nerves that make your toes curl and your core ache with need. Your slick pooling just for his calloused touch. His thick fingers felt so much better than yours just stroking you. “Keep talkin’ to me Honey.” A voice rumbled against your belly, once more the drag of his beard set you alight.

“Right there Curtis, I need-” Now that you were slick, aching for more, he let a finger press against your opening, pulling him in with a tight clamp. Velvet walls kept tightening around him. You didn’t expect him to be like this, make you this aching for him but here you were squirming on the bed, trying to keep a straight line of thought.

Curtis knew what you needed, driving the words right from your mind as he stretched you, adding another to stroke your velvet walls. “- Oh you are so thick.” You moaned out, grabbing onto his biceps to keep yourself grounded while you started squirming underneath him, building up to your crashing moment.

The cold of his chain bounced off your thighs, deep praises falling from him. “Just like that Sweet Girl, fuck look at you just opening for me.” Fingers buried deep in you started spreading you, scissoring in and out. He wanted to taste, drive his tongue through you but when he bit lightly on your mound, preparing to press his mouth to you, you tensed, your voice going in that panicked choked squeak.

“No wait…” You tugged on his arms till he rose back up, tilting his head in question. “Um- I can’t-” You panted and Curtis slowed his touch, letting the aching sensations dull in your belly.

“We don’t have to do that Y/N.” He assured you. You moved to your elbows and grabbed a condom to peel it open.

“Can we do this instead?” You offered and Curtis sucked his fingers clean once he left your clenching core, making you hear him clearly as he sucked your essence right off his fingers. You couldn't recall ever hearing anything hotter in your life as his drenched fingers slipped into his mouth and he gave a deep hungry sounding groan at the taste of your slick. Another rush escaped you at that moment.

“Fuck, I’m all for that.” He said as you pulled yourself up a bit more to slide the condom on him. He was built, more than you were expecting, but yet you shouldn't be too surprised- this man did just lift you up and carry you, something you were still trying to wrap your mind around.

Right now it was about watching what little you could see of Curtis’s reaction to your touch, the sweep of your hand up and down his shaft, the sudden way he tensed right before your eyes and then rocked into you for the friction your palm made. His hand closed around yours, showing you how he liked to be squeezed around slightly, easing your thumb to circle around his red thick tip and tightening his hold when the thick vein throbbed under your fingers. “Honey, you gotta get that condom on me, I need to be inside of you.” His tone was deep and edging on desperate now. Just maybe you had similar effects on him that he had on you. “I promise you can explore all you want, however you want later.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” You squeaked, having been distracted momentarily in your exploring, Curtis just felt so good in your hands. You pinched the tip of the condom and started to roll and stretch the rubber around him before laying back. He dropped himself over you, reaching between the two of you to slide his thick head between your folds, sure to tap against your clit and make you jolt at the excited anticipation racing through you, spreading your legs wider for him. Once more his necklace bounced against your chest, making you grab it and pull him down to meet your mouth, sliding your tongue to meet his while he started to press himself into you, stretching you to fit.

Your legs pulled up and pressed against his side, Curtis could have blown a load just feeling you pull him into you, squeezing so tightly around him that he actually gave a choked grunt against your lips. He shared air with you, panting slightly as he grunted, flexing his ass and pushing in just a little deeper, just a little more as you rolled your eyes up to flutter a bit, your nails tightening in pleasure against his shoulders at how good just the drag of his cock into your slick core felt to you. “Fuck, you are gripping me so good Honey.” He reached for a hand, weaving his fingers with your and pining it back above your head.

You immediately let go of his shoulders and returned the gesture, this time reaching for his hold. “You feel so good. Curtis you gotta move, I need you.”

It was a slow movement at first, Curtis pulling out and easing back in. But each time, you were slick and fit around him like you were made just for him, and he started to move faster, determined to find your sweet spot to hear one of those moans you were holding inside. Sex, well sex always felt good. But this, it was edging on something more than sex, he wasn’t trying to get the two of you to end for the feel good moment that was satisfying.

With you, he wanted you to just feel good and that possessive part of him got to know he was the one that gave it to you, over and over and over. He didn’t even care at this point if he finished.

It was when Curtis angled slightly that he slid himself just right and you cried out his name in just the way he had been looking for. A cry that was just for him, his name sounded sweet and desperate right now. “There you go Sweetheart, fuck- shit you just keep squeezing me like that.” He assured you when a tremble of ecstasy vibrated you. Your fingers clenched at his hand while legs lifted to cross your ankles at the small of his back to push him back into you.

“Good Girl.” He groaned against your neck as he pushed back into you, pumping faster and harder, aiming for just that spot that made you gasp and repeat his name like a manta. “You're perfect for me.” He nudged at you till you twisted your mouth to meet his, shuddering as you kissed him with an air of desperation that pleaded him to shatter you just so he could drag your frayed pieces back together, maybe someone you desired to be.

“Curtis, I need to, please.” You stuttered out and Curtis felt his balls tighten hearing you plead with him to finish you. He let go of one hand, squeezing a breast and tilting his head to suck on your soft suppleness, dragging a hot tongue to send pleasure through your body when he sucked on your nipple, immediately your free hand went to the back of his neck to keep him pressed close. Tingle of anticipation went up Curtis' spine, you were close and he was too now, but you had to come first.

Dropping his hand to where he fucked into you, a finger twisted against your sensitive swollen bud to have you clamping down hard on him, your thighs quivering in a strain and that release flooded you with so much pleasure that you locked around him, biting on his shoulder to muffle yourself, causing a satisfied hiss to escape him.

Chasing his own ending turned sloppy now that you came for him, tendons popped from his neck and his shoulders bunched together as he hunched over you, gathering you in close to him as he crashed into you several times till he shuddered in your arms He pitched forward to bury his face in the crook of your neck, gasping out the last air in his lungs to a deep groan that seem to come from the very pit of his stomach. You felt it shudder through you as you were still floating in a daze.

Your hand that was still free from his grasp loosened from the back of his neck to scratch lightly at the back of his head and down to the knots in his shoulder from his release, he was still hunched over you, cocooning you to him like he refused to let there be space between the two of you. Refusing to let you go or push away from him. Not that you wanted to, your relished feeling him press you under him, like he couldn’t bear the thought of you pulling away from him just yet. .

But slowly he loosened with a groan, his weight sinking on you to keep you pinned beneath him. You could hear him catching his breath, heated huffs against the shell of your ear. You valued the feeling of him around you, the intimacy of sharing each other left you unwilling to give it up just yet. Curtis sighed as he let his hold on your hand above your head loosen, shifting it down to wrap around you, hugging you tighter to his chest while he burrowed in against your neck, giving another groan. “I wanted to hold out, but fuck you were just too good to be with.” He admitted as he started to shift.

“You don't have to move Curtis.” A small panic rose in your chest at the loss of contact, uncalled for at the moment but you couldn’t stop. It had him shushing you softly while he pulled out, pressing a reassuring kiss to your forehead.

“I will be back.” He moved away to peel the rubber off, trying to be as quick as possible so you weren’t left alone for long. You heard running water for a few moments in your bathroom down the hallway before he came back to sit on the edge of the bed. “Is this okay?” He let the warm washcloth brush against your thigh, asking permission before he continued to clean you up.

How in the hell was he possibly real and in your bed?

You spread your thighs open in invitation and he was careful in his touch, whispering a sorry whenever he felt you wince slightly. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, no not at all Curtis.” You assured him as he finished. Sure you might have been a little sore, but all of it had been quite welcome. Your ex, nor your toys quite had what Curtis had.

It wasn’t long before Curtis joined you back in your bed, flopping to his back and patting his belly. “Co’mere.” You shifted over to his side, assuming he wanted to spoon but soon found that wasn't what he meant. Curtis literally wanted you on him, pulling against the curve of your ass and down to your thigh, he easily maneuverered you to straddle him.

You did your best to hover over him, reluctant to relax on him. “Y/N, relax. I promise it's okay.” He stroked your hips and pulled you down to rest on him, your hands sliding up and down his chest with a light scrape of your nails, marvelling at the sensation of his muscles under you “Just wasn't ready to let you go just yet.” You eased down to lay yourself on his chest, going to trace what you guessed were wings on his chest, thanks to the dim light he had left on in the bathroom. “Thank you Y/N.”

You lifted your head curiously, tilting your head in question. “For what Curtis?”

“For letting me be with you.” A finger traced the side of your face to gently grasp your chin and pull you back up to him to give a kiss to your lips. “I got the feeling it’s not always easy for you to trust like that.”

You smiled at his words and pulled up to a sit in order to inspect some of the tattoos scattered across his chest. “Not always easy, but I like you Curtis, really like you. You made it so…” You stalled, your mouth twisting in how you wanted to say it. How he pulled you from your doubts and worries, how you never had to guess what he was thinking, just from his touch like he couldn't get enough, his eyes that never wavered or looked away from you, and his constant words saying what he was thinking. “Different. Not like anything I’ve ever experienced before. I felt like you kept me with you in the moment.”

You went fiddling with his chain, lifting it up to look at the small medallion hanging off the end of it. “Yeah well when I got a woman like you giving me such a gift…” He gave a sigh and broke in an almost boyish grin. You rolled your eyes at him as he clicked his tongue at you. “I only say what I mean Honey.”

You rolled the pendant in your fingers. “What's the pendant?”

He dropped his chin to look down towards your fingers. “That is a St Joseph medallion. It belonged to my father, passed down from my grandpa. He is the patron saint of workers, expectant mothers, families, engineers and other things.” You were gentle as you let it rest back against his chest, dropping back down further to start placing kisses on his chest, and biting lightly on his nipples, your eyes lifting enough with suggestion. “Fuck Honey, you keep doing that with your mouth.” His hip rocked upwards, feeling him grow hard again as it pressed against your ass. “I'm going to need you again.”

“That's the plan Curtis.” You ran your tongue over a tattoo that rested along the underside of his pec, rubbing yourself against him. Again in a show of strength that had you squealing in surprise, he flipped you to your back so he could kiss you senseless once again, his entire body hard and hot against yours.

“It’s a pretty good plan, Honey.”

#curtis everett x honey #curtis everett au #curtis everett #curtis evertt x reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett and honey #curtis everett and reader #curtis everett and you #curtis everett fanfiction #snowpiercer au #chris evans characters #amber writes #sweater writes #life is short so make it sweet

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