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#i'm sorry but i love this fic
pinkrasberryfish · 8 months
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That's a damn WRAP on "The Pointe of Love!" 🩰🫀🦢🌹🌙
Chapter 16 - "I'm In Love With You Too" now up.
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ghouljams · 2 months
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“#distribution system is a pillow Princess/sub!ghost fic”
😳 h-holy shit. I think the world went white when I read this. Like a flash bang went off. Oh my god.
You hold his face between your hands, your thumbs gently stroking over his scarred cheeks. Your eyes are so soft, they look at him like he's something fragile, something precious. Ghost holds your wrists like a lifeline, desperately begging to be grounded in this moment. Your lips move without sound, he wishes he could hear it, could hear your voice like the trumpets of revelations. The light shines behind your head like a halo, it must be a halo, divinity shining through your skin. Everything hurts.
"Stay with me," He begs, his throat dry and his bones aching.
"Of course," You pet over his buzzed hair, your voice as soft as early spring, "I'm not going anywhere."
You kiss his temple, let him settle his hands on your waist and lean into the touch, hungry for it. You're not going anywhere. He's not either, this is the last stop. He can just be here. Ghost traces his fingers over your skin with reverence, his eyes on yours as you tip his head back. It's good, you're finally in your rightful place over him, larger than life in all your kindness. He could let you swallow him whole, he wishes you would. Then he could be a part of you, a part of something worthwhile, something good and kind. Whatever he's done in life-
"Stay with me Simon," You murmur, as if he'd ever want to be anywhere else. Of course, he wants to echo, of course. You lean to brush your lips over his cheek, it hurts, white hot just under his eye. You slice your line through him, ask again, your voice so distant and yet so close beside his ear, "Stay with me."
His lips move around your name, breathe in, exhale. His hands hold you, drag over your skin as he tips his head to press his lips against your neck. Can he have this? Is this allowed? Are apostles meant to worship their god through such sinful means? He slides his hand between your legs, rubbing his fingers through the wet heat he finds there. You're so soft.
You whine, such a pretty noise, and he kisses you again. He mumbles your name against your skin, traces his lips against your pulse, desperate to feel your life. Everything he does is for you, every breath he takes, every beat of his heart, each blink, each touch of his fingers. Nothing matters to him like you do. You're so warm, dripping over his hand, the noises your sweet pussy make when he presses his fingers into you are perfect, and obscene.
"My Simon," You breathe, "You're so good for me." It hurts between his ribs, cracks his sternum, you could take him apart with so many words. "You never tell me what you want," You coo, "Never ask for anything."
"Want to make you come," He mumbles, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain of it, he doesn't deserve to ask for your love, but he can approximate it, "want to be useful to you."
"You are, Simon," You whisper, he jerks against you at the jolt that goes through him, "because I love you."
It spins in his mind like tires stuck in mud. It's not right. He wants it too badly for it to be right. You couldn't. Even when he was leaving you couldn't. Ghost swallows. It's cold in here.
He blinks his eyes open to a hospital ceiling. Everything hurts. He reaches his hand to feel whatever is covering his left eye with a grunt of pain. His fingers twitch and another sharp jolt of pain zips through him.
"I wouldn't," Price tells him. Ghost turns his head to look at him, adjusting to the new blind spot. He's sitting in an arm chair beside the hospital bed, his chin perched on his palm, fingers curled over his mouth and leg bouncing. Ghost wonders how long it's been since his last cigar. Price sniffs. "Down two fingers, gonna hurt for a while."
Ghost turns his head to look back at the ceiling. The fluorescents buzz, a whine only he ever seems able to hear. At least the sky would've been a nice thing to end on.
"Nearly lost you on the table," Price continues, Ghost can hear him standing, "I'll let the nurse know you're up."
Ghost swallows again, tries to feel his tongue in his mouth, so dry it may as well glue itself to his teeth. "Where's my wife," He croaks. Price's footsteps stop, something heavy falling over the air. There are a thousand things he could say, a thousand comforts he could offer.
"You're not married," He tells him, and leaves.
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seance · 28 days
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THE MUSKETEERS 10TH ANNIVERSARY REWATCH / fave episodes [3/?] ↳ SEASON 1, EPISODE 8 / the challenge
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keynil · 5 months
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i wld pay so much money for zoro and sanji to talk about blades w each other like !! sanji seeing zoro clean his blades w so much care turning into comparing where the weight shld sit on a good kitchen knife vs a sword. nerding out abt different oils/whetstones until they realise they've been talking excitedly to each other for almost an hour and start fighting to restore the equilibrium
zoro seeing one of sanjis knives left damp on the cutting board after some random ambush. cleaning and drying it before putting it back in the rack bc he knows sanji wld never leave his knife like that if he had a choice
sanji seeing that zoro chipped an edge during their latest fight and silently leaving his whetstones in the crows nest bc he knows the larger grit wld be more helpful
(40 y/o zoro leaving a set of knives in the kitchen for sanji to find as an anniversary gift and sanji realising that he not only still remembered the first real conversation they ever had, but also the exact brand sanji had been so excited abt)
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mewtwo24 · 2 months
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Not to be That Guy but like.
Am I the only one that can't stop thinking about how Tianlang-Jun says about Luo Binghe that he pretends to be cold-hearted like his mother. The hint of fondness there, the heartache in that utterance.
Like it drives me absolutely insane. Imagining her putting on a front of strength, cold and driven and unrelenting. Why does TLJ say that about her. Did she secretly look for solutions that meant reconciling with demons instead of hurting them when her sect wasn't looking? (I wonder this because I feel like his weird fondness for SQQ would lowkey track if it's connected to the woman he once loved.) Did he mean that she was tasked with basically assassinating him and she fell in love with him instead (re: failed step one)? Did he mean that she was fond and doting in her own way (e.g. conceding he was attractive, paying for his exploits and humoring him)? Did he mean that, like LBH, she thought that power would be the thing to protect her--and that it was disguising a person who was deeply and privately wounded? All four????? I don't need sleep I need a n s w e r s
Did she know about the Huanhua Palace Master's skeevy ass intentions before she met TLJ? Or did those only come to significant light after she fell in love with TLJ? Is that why she never anticipated that level of betrayal, because initially she had no intention of being with anyone romantically? And HHPM just assumed she would be under his thumb forever?? Was she furious at her own indiscretion or did she try to use the pregnancy as a bargaining chip, a way to try to stop the immortals of Cang Qiong Mountain from attacking TLJ (plus the bonus of marriage entrapment no takesies backsies this is where LBH gets it from)? Did she try to use that claim on her to dissuade HHPM from his covetous advances, framing herself as tainted so that she could finally escape? Did she dream of a life by TLJ's side, far away from Cang Qiong Mountain?
Like. Literally every single permutation of what this could mean guts me to hell. Do you ever just cry about tianxi because I--[loud bawling noises]
#svsss#tianxi#tianlang jun#su xiyan#like this shit keeps me awake at night#i'm trying to put fic ideas together and every time i go back to that line i just#find myself trying to parse and hone out su xiyan's mannerisms/personality#zzl's descriptions help a great deal but i also love that they're limited in the sense that#1. zzl was clearly scared shitless of/disconcerted with her LMFAO#2. he was suspicious of her (as a cultivator fundamentally) and its fascinating that TLJ did not seem to share this suspicion at all#or one could argue tlj just didn't care beyond his attraction and glee being around her jkahglfdskjhsfkhjg#there is also the hilarious implication that part of what turned tlj on so much about sx is the fact that she could prbly kill him#tlj really said 'i love a woman who can and WILL kick my ass'#'none of that soft power seduction shit manhandle me or nothing'#like he always believed deep down--or at the very least wanted to believe--that she loved both him and lbh dearly#i'm not usually the fix-it fic type but the Way I Need To See Su Xiyan Destroy Huanhua Palace Master's Entire Life.#i just want sx and her boytoy to live happily ever after is that so wrong?#i also think of that person (im so sorry tumblr user i dont rmr who u are at the minute) that said there had to be trust between tlj and sx#because YES. ABSOLUTELY. I AGREE. AND I WANT IT FOR ME#don't mind me just the usual descent into madness anytime i think too hard about svsss#i need to outline damn you airplane and your refusal to expand on LBH's juicy ass backstory#ill never forgive the chinese (joke)
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niningtori · 2 months
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to know him is to love him, and i do | chapter one: do you not love me? like at all?
pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, kang taehyun x you
summary: you love beomgyu more than anything. you just wish he loved you, too. or you finally break up with beomgyu and move on, but as for him? maybe he's starting to realize too little too late.
genre: romance, angst, angst with a happy ending (?)
word count: 2.1k
notes: hi friends! ... r u mad at me? be honest (*´ェ`*) i'm sorry i've been gone for so long, but i've had the worst writer's block with my other story. i decided to just post this because i couldn't get the idea of toxic!beomgyu out of my head. don't worry, he will suffer. anyway, i hope you like it!! if not, please don't hurt my feelings i beg.
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"i told you it was nothing. why are you freaking out?"
"she was fucking you with her eyes, beomgyu!" you exclaim in frustration.
"and that's my fault how?"
"it's not your fault, but i'm sick of you entertaining women, let alone your actual fucking ex, while i'm standing right next to you!" his ex is just another fish in the barrel, or at least that's what he says, but the thought that they were intimate together at one point still makes you feel sick. truthfully, your boyfriend is handsome, so you've spent the better part of the past 10 months warding off the women who circle him like vultures. you wouldn't mind as much as you do if he seemed at all interested in helping you do so, especially when faced with his ex that you suspect he still has feelings for, but he does not. quite the opposite, actually. it's like he thrives off of the attention and god it hurts.
"i'm not entertaining anybody. i told her i have a girlfriend now," he, well, you would say argues, but it's said so nonchalantly it doesn't warrant the term.
"a girlfriend you proceeded to ignore while she hung off of your shoulders and laughed all night! i just don't understand how you don't understand how much it hurts my feelings. i'm a human too! how would you feel if my ex, who was very clearly interested in me, hung around me right in front of you?" and it's like you're explaining empathy to a child.
"me? i wouldn't give a fuck because it's not that serious," he replies with a slightly irritated shake of his head.
it's always like this. always. you're always the one who cares more between the two of you. you were the one who asked him out in the first place. you were the one who initiated your first kiss. your first fight. hell, even your first reconciliation. you're not stupid, you know he doesn't feel quite the same way you do, but he has to feel something, right? otherwise, why would he say yes to you when he's rejected so many other women? your brain hurts trying to wrap your head around it all.
"you're missing the point! if you were me, you would—" you begin frustratedly, but you cut yourself off. "you know what? i don't even have the energy to explain this to you. i don't understand why i have to explain basic human emotion to you and i really don't understand why i have to beg and plead for you to care about how i feel!" you all but shriek.
"you don't have to do shit, just leave if you're that fucking unhappy," he spits out angrily, which is the first real emotion — besides mild annoyance — you've seen out of him this entire conversation. he gets impatient when you're like this, which usually results in you relenting, but not tonight. you're far too hurt to let go so easily.
"you're right! i am unhappy! i just — why don't you care that i'm unhappy? what can i do to make you give a fuck about me?" you have a brave face on but you can feel your eyes getting hot and your voice trembling ever so slightly.
"you could try not being so damn needy, maybe that'd help."
your eyes redden even further and your lips unintentionally twist themselves into a sour frown. you hate it when he calls you needy because you do need a lot from him, it feels like. his time. his care. his attention and affection. yet you never seem to get it.
"do you not love me? like at all?" you ask. all of the venom in your tone has been sucked out mercilessly and you sound more helpless than angry.
"do you not realize how fucking crazy you sound?" he scoffs as if he can't fathom why you'd be upset. as if he's not watching you break down in real time.
"why won't you give me a straight answer?" you question, voice softer than it was before.
he does nothing but scowl and you know beomgyu well enough to know that he's avoiding your question. that's enough of an answer as it stands, really. he doesn't care. never has. probably never will.
"then why'd you even say yes to dating me?" you truly don't understand. you thought you were different. you thought he saw something in you he didn't see in his harem of other suitors, and trust that there were many.
"i dunno. i was just bored, i guess," he answers with a shrug and your world as you know it collapses. the man you love sees you as nothing more than a way to kill time. he's picking you up right now just to toss you away when the next shiny toy presents itself. and so far, you've let him drag you around because you love him. that's how much you love him. but looking at him now, at how unbothered he is, you wonder if you've even got anything left to give.
"i really do love you," you manage to squeeze out with a bitter smile. your poor heart is on display for the naked eye to see and it seems like he really couldn't care less, but that won't stop you from asking. "does that mean anything at all to you?"
"well, i'm sorry you feel that way," he says simply, "but that's not my fucking problem."
your heart sinks to your stomach and you feel like you're going to throw up. in this moment, as you watch the love of your life dismiss you like you're a fucking dog begging for scraps of food, you feel an overwhelming sense of clarity as you realize he doesn't love you. he doesn't even like you. he probably hates you, actually. like a mental montage, every moment in which he showed you that exact sentiment plays all at once in your head.
all those times you let him choose everything from movies to dinner because the idea of a compromise was inconceivable. all of those occasions, special and otherwise, where you were supposed to go out on a date, but he'd bail without a word and you'd forgive him with no apology. when you'd offer him your share of dessert because he ate all of his and you knew he wanted more, and he'd take it without so much as a thank you. how you'd sit and listen to him tell stories about how amazing his friends were, but he'd never even ask about your day. when those same friends would jokingly call you the perfect girlfriend and you thought it was an indication of how good your relationship was, but in reality, it was a way to tease him because the thought of actually being with you was so abhorrent and ridiculous that it must be a joke. all those times you told him you loved him and he'd just smile and kiss you deeper. memories like these flood your brain with a vengeance so cruel it makes your head ache, and in a way, you realize it's ridiculous to be surprised when there was so much proof of his feelings in the first place.
"oh. okay," you say with what you hope is a soft and unbothered laugh, but comes out more as a choked one. "i guess there's nothing left to say. i'll get my shit and go."
you hesitate for a few excruciatingly awkward moments before collecting yourself enough to start gathering your things, which are scattered haphazardly around his apartment from his bedroom to his bathroom. it's like a walk of shame, almost, and you feel even shittier when he plops down on the couch with a long suffering sigh as he begins to massage the bridge of his nose. you feel so small in this moment — like a petulant child who just got done throwing an unsuccessful tantrum — and you're now soaking in the sobering aftermath and sitting with the thought that he just watched you have a meltdown like he was watching a monkey putting on a show. how much more is he going to humiliate you? enough is enough, you think, so before you can actually finish collecting all of your belongings, you're scurrying out of the apartment. before you go, you glance back at him one last time. "beomgyu?" you ask tentatively, tears clouding your eyes.
"yeah?" he replies with a sigh. this is it, you think.
"i don't want to see you ever again," you say firmly. before he can reply, if he ever intended to in the first place, you slam the door.
-
there's a lot to love about beomgyu. for one, he's handsome, which is obvious, but he has a certain allure you could never help but be drawn in by. he's always been a charming man, but even more so when he's talking to a woman he's interested in. as interested as he could be, that is. he's funny and comically pompous when he wants to be, but still somehow down to earth despite it all.
he's been described as a mood-maker, and while he grew to resent that term, you thought it was at least partially true, if only in the context of your relationship. when he's sad, you're devastated. when he's happy, you're over the fucking moon. his feelings are your whole world. or were, you guess, since all that's over now.
it wasn't all bad all the time, you think. there were times where you thought he really might reciprocate even a fraction of what you felt for him, and most of the time, that was enough. you could work with that. love looks different for everyone, you would reason. maybe he just had a funny way of showing it.
there were days where you'd laugh together and end the night lying in each other's arms while you'd cradle him like he was the most precious thing in the whole world because, to you, he really was. he was normally so boisterous when with his friends, but while he would never admit it to anyone else, he'd tell you about some of his insecurities while you gently combed your fingers through his long, silky hair. he'd speak of regrets and longing for people to take him more seriously. he'd never say it, but he wanted people to see you like you saw him. the real him. you'd let him cry while your hands cupped his cheeks and you'd shush him while he fiddled mindlessly with your hair like a child. you'd kiss his the tip of his reddened nose until he laughed instead of cried. times like those, you'd really think you were someone special to him. but now you realize you were wrong. you were just an outlet for him, and anyone willing to be an emotional dumping ground would do the trick too.
after a few weeks of moping, your sadness has begun to morph into anger and resentment. you spent nearly a year of your life trying to make an emotionally stunted man care about you, and that's not even counting the years of pining over him before you finally worked up the courage to ask him out. it was difficult to see it in the moment, but after being away from him for so long, it's crystal clear that he was honestly just an asshole who didn't really like you. nothing more, nothing less. maybe he'd find someone to change for someday, maybe he'd even work things out with his ex, but for whatever reason, you weren't her. that's just the way it goes, you guess. what really bothers you are the "what if's" of the situation. what if you were prettier, or smarter, or kinder. would he have seen you for who you really are? would he have grown to appreciate you if you had given him more to appreciate?
either way, there's no use crying over spilled milk now. you won't be going back to him any time soon and he certainly won't come crawling back to you. you'll continue to think of him less and less until your time together fades into a distant (and unpleasant) memory. you smile at the thought.
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readgi · 2 months
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I know the teen wolf fandom is pretty much dead, but I need to know how y'all feel about Theo Raeken?
Cause I haven't even looked at this show since the last season came out, but ALL OF A SUDDEN I'm obsessed with that boy and his character development on season 6 (or the little we got anyways) all over again
And thiam too but anyways
Is that a red flag? Should I be concerned?
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faetreides · 2 months
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alsooo… food for thought! modern!coryo learning that you’re a virgin and what he’d be like when he gets to fuck you for the first time 😏😏
🍽️ SEND ME ASKS ABOUT CORYO, LUKE CASTELLAN, OR ANAKIN (THIS IS A THREAT)
CW: afab!reader, feminization/use of bride/reader's pussy is assigned she/her pronouns, extra extra political empire heir coriolanus snow in tears over pussy read all about it, fair amount of marriage talk, mentions of being willing to murder others & trap reader, mandatory sejanus mention, coryo puts on his person suit just for you <3, this is not the darkest point in the au but the au is "soft" dark content overall
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One thing about modern!coryo is that he gives you much more grace than some of his other friends would have. (Festus is "rumored" to be carrying multiple stds and Felix's family has a whole section in their budget just for child support. Sejanus is the only one in that group that's kind of normal by comparison.) When you start dating, he can tell that you're inexperienced at least; but the green-eyed monster always on his shoulder doesn't let him fully believe that you're a virgin.
He's... patient unlike most college boys. He's horny beyond comprehension, but he doesn't latch onto you like a leech after the first date (He's so kind 😊). Sure, there's a festering need sweltering under his skin and boiling his blood, but he's no strange to playing the long game. To him, every time he fucks you is going to feel like your wedding night (Cause he's in this for MARRIAGE). You're the only one he would use the phrase "making love" with. Before you, every other whore that hung off his dick was just there because he was high on his status (and a couple other things). He apologizes about being with others before you as if he were actively cheating on you.
He'd pay to have them disappear if you wanted.
Anyway.
He finds out in a benign way; you're making out on your creaky twin bed in your dorm. (You hadn't moved in together at the time, so he had to settle for his long limbs awkwardly knocking against the wall and nightstand every time you were getting intimate.) He keeps the kiss going as he rises up on his knees and nudges you on your back. He shoots his hands out under your body to catch you just in case (and so you can't leave).
"Wait….” You say and bury your hands in his hair to try to pry his mouth off of your neck, “Coryo, stop. I need a second."
He almost pouts but he relents and moves back to hover over you. Some of his curls dangle down and tickle your face but you just scrunch your nose up like a bunny at the feeling.
His brow furrows in confusion, "What is it, baby? Are you okay?"
You squirm under his body for a moment in embarrassment until you decide to just rip the band aid off. You run your hands up his torso and over his shoulders, curling them around the nape of his neck and giving him the little head scratches he likes. His eyes flutter shut as electricity shoots up his body.
"I'm uh...... I've never done this before, ever." He barely hears it with how quietly you whisper.
He can't help teasing you in response, "Baby, you can just say that you're a virgin if that's what you are."
He chuckles when you "playfully" smack him in the chest. Coryo makes sure you can watch his gaze soften as he brings a hand up to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. You've given him a gift, and Coriolanus Snow is nothing if not an avid appreciator or gifts. He leans down to rub the side of your nose with his, bringing his other hand down to press on your lower belly.
"Petal... I don't care that you're a virgin, we don't have to do anything today. I won't mind, don't worry."
He can see your brain working hard to make a decision, the cogs in your cute little head turning. You don't bite you lip for very long (which is a good thing because his dick was about to explode) before you're canting up to kiss him.
You've gotten a lot better at it overtime, and Coryo has adored every second of helping you get to that place. He's never been in love before so it's almost like you're teaching him new things too. He wonders if this is how his father felt, only having room in your heart for one person and closing it to everything else. He almost can't blame him, now that he's got you.
It was all going so well until he's wrestling your lace down your smooth legs, he's pressing tiny little pecks along your skin as your underwear travels. He doesn't quite take them off and just leaves them pooled around your ankles. The material stretches as he slides his hands up your inner thighs and spreads them.
You give him your best 'do NOT fucking rip my underwear' look but he just sends back an answering 'you know I'll buy you new ones.'
The puffy pussy that winks up at him makes him want to cry. Aphrodite could come down to earth right now and bend over right in front of him, but all he'd see is his future wife's glistening folds. He'd never really found a cunt cute before, but yours was bringing forward yet another wave of cuteness aggression. You have no hope of getting through to him once he's got his thumb hooked under your hood. He honest to God coos as he gently scrapes his thumb nail against your clit.
The giddy laugh that bubbles up when you involuntarily kick at him makes your cheeks heat up in what is unfortunately not embarrassment.
"Shit." He sniffles and wipes away an actual tear as he tilts his head to the side to get a different angle, "She's beautiful..."
It's the same tone he'll have when he says his vows.
Coryo then decides that he's tired of waiting so he tugs your panties off your ankles and uncaringly throws them somewhere on the floor. He smiles and lays down in between your legs, leaving some space in between your bodies so he could see where you two will be joined.
His curls hang in your face again as he leans down to nip at your nose, so you won't really notice when he shoves his pants down.
You can't hide how much you want to see all of him, he watches you glance down at his hard cock that slapped against his stomach as it flopped free. Despite Coryo obviously not having the biggest build in the world, the third leg he's been apparently carrying around all this time is more than enough for him (and for you). It's an angry sort of purplish red, thick and long like his fingers with a mushroom head that might as well have been calling your name.
"My eyes are up here, you know." He chides you as he gets your attention back on him by shaking his hefty cock in his balled fist, getting drops of salty pre cum on your pussy before sandwiching it between your folds.
He blissfully sighs and tosses his head back as if he were a king celebrity a long-awaited victory with a toe-curling fuck.
Essentially, he's like "fresh pussy just for me 👉👈🥺?” He's sat right at the dining table and ready to dive into his favorite three-course meal (your holes).
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OKAY SO i have been rereading dustorange's wonderful post here about Dick in an UtRH-esque scenario where he dies & then comes back to life
AND I HAVE INCOHERENT BRAINSTORMING THOUGHTS:
so first, i think Robin!Dick would be just as hurt by the discovery that Bruce has a new Robin, and brood about it - but i think the shame of having died would stop him from confronting Bruce about it the way Nightwing!Dick does in canon.
and I do NOT think that he would expect Bruce to kill anyone for him (or even be upset that he doesn't? I just don't think this would be a consideration for Dick. he's gonna be fixated on "I failed." so he'll be upset about being replaced but not about the lack of revenge. and if Bruce did take revenge, i think he'd actually feel angry and betrayed about that because it'd feel like the choice was taken away from him, a la how upset he gets when he thinks Bruce has arranged to have Zucco killed - even if he intellectually knows that Bruce wasn't deliberately undermining himbecause he didn't know Dick was gonna come back to life.)
anyway so what WOULD he do??
what comes to mind is something along the lines of "Dick obsessively keeps an eye on Batman & Robin even while telling himself that he's not"
and then - say - if it's Robin!Tim (i feel like this has to be Tim because in the world where Dick dies there is no way that Bruce is voluntarily picking a new Robin), then maybe the moment when Dick steps in is when Bruce is in danger & he's furious / critical of Tim for not protecting Bruce well enough
and i feel like that's how he'd channel the hurt feelings - it'd all be deflected under shame and obligation, and then translated into the anger of "you replaced me & yet you're failing to do the job that you're supposed to do" (which is actually about projection/self-hatred because Dick would actually be mad at himself for having died & not doing that job anymore)
and Dick wouldn't want to see Bruce at all because of the shame over dying & subconscious fear that Bruce doesn't want him back, plus every little thing that Tim does differently would drive him NUTS because it implies that maybe the way Dick did things wasn't good enough for Bruce
i'm actually kind of fascinated by this now. because i am me and i have (1) obsession i am mostly invested in the dick & tim side of it sdfsdfds
so i'm picturing Tim very stung by whatever critical things Dick said to him & tracking this mysterious vigilante down, and then Dick doesn't want to spend ANY time with him BUT he's also subconsciously desperate for news of Bruce!!! so then something something Dick starts sorta training him a la Tim's various contacts with edgy non-batman-aligned vigilantes, and Tim's very defensive about how he IS a good robin so THERE but of course he's also defensive because he's secretly worried he's not good enough.
normally i would have tim Recognize dick since recognizing dick is tim's most basic skill HOWEVER i think it would be much more fun if tim doesn't recognize him so he can give dick a speech about legacy & the first robin: "i do x and such because that's how the first robin did it so it is Objectively Correct." which Dick will find incredibly infuriating but will be unable to counter since he cannot counter with 'the 1st robin was ME'
…hmmm i do think Dick ought to be angry about SOMETHING about batman's methods/attitude just because that's more dynamic? I feel like in order to make the adaptation work, there ought to be SOME kind of argument with Bruce right before he dies that he can still be mad about, a la the garzonas fight for Jason and Bruce. unsure what though?
okay let's see: I feel like Dick's main arguments with Bruce aren't about vigilante issues per se so much as they're about working in a team - so e.g.
1) Bruce being controlling/demanding, and 2) Bruce being secretive and doing stuff behind Dick's back, and 3) Bruce not allowing Dick enough autonomy, 4) just generally a perceived lack of trust.
SO maybe whatever The Frustrating Thing that bruce was doing when dick died is a thing he's STILL doing with this new robin, and dick is getting frustrated all over again sorta on tim's behalf but mostly on his own behalf because he never got to resolve this with bruce
but anyway that way when Bruce finally spots disguised!Dick, then they can have the fight again before Bruce realizes who he is <3
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he said :(
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infinityinakiss · 10 months
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avatrice au fic recommendations:
i don't think there is a single avatrice au fic that i haven't read so here are some my favorites. i tried to find ones that weren't as popular, so hopefully there are couple here you haven't read.
I want to believe by puppybusby @yashastrongarms - x files au - basically 23k of avatrice flirting while being incredibly reckless with alien shit. unfortunately, it is only a one shot that doesn't delve into their relationship, but it is so worth it. and the tension. woof.
Truly a Steadfast Love by StoicLastStand - medieval au - they have a whole series of ficlets, but this is one of my favorites. there's a tournament to win ava's hand in marriage, ava goes undercover to fight for her freedom, but she ends up falling for the very knight who everybody wants to win. i also love their lucifer au, Greater Sacrifices.
a lover, or something of mine by Smokestarrules - reincarnation au - each chapter is a different life with a different story, and i promise you, if you have anything that even resembles a heart, you will cry. i keep going back and rereading chapter 4 because apparently i love to hurt myself. i also love the world is just illusion (trying to change you) by them, it's a road trip au.
i should love you (and i swear i do) by Noteveryonefitsintothebadbitchgenre - harry potter au (fuck jk rowling) - its that trope where they're married and they talk about each other constantly but nobody actually knows they're married. their students all think that professor silva and professor young have a friendly rivalry, but there are a couple of moments that don't add up.
purple by sxftmelody - hitman au - technically, but really it's just sad, i always cry at the end. beatrice helps ava run away after a job, and slowly they open themselves up and start to fall in love. tw: major character death. also love turning page by the same author, mercenary/princess au.
in our corner of the world by definitelynotthere - roommate au - i know, i know, there's a thousand roommate aus, why would i recommend a fic that isn't even finished and will probably never get finished? i don't know, i just really love this one, and if you're like me, you'll go "ooh, two cakes" and read it anyway.
The last hero of Ogygia by jessnope - percy jackson au - specifically calypso au, ava is calypso and beatrice is the flirty hunter that washed up on her shore. it's super cute.
stay there, 'cause i'll be coming over (while our blood's still young) by britishngay - spiderman au - ava's character voice is actually designed to be spiderman, and bea is the perfect doctor lady that patches spidey up when she gets hurt. plus beatrice telling lilith to "shut up and sit down" will never not be iconic.
sunday people (sunday shines for you) by gilligankane @piratekane - another roommates au - jealous ava is back again and out for blood, specifically jenn-with-two-ns blood.
this is my prayer (I'm in love with you) by nyxtyka - my best friend's wedding/spies au - i'll be honest, this fic went to my marked for laters to die. i don't know if it'll ever be finished, but it is one of my favorite aus, i promise it'll be worth the pain.
spellbound by onomofication - witch au - beatrice is the witch in the woods that ava goes to to finally find a way to explore the world like she has always wanted to. but as she gets to know the surprisingly kind, serious, kinda-sorta witch, she discovers that maybe the world was smaller than she had once imagined. i also love another fic by this author, hit me with you best shot, which is basically a cupid au, where ava runs around trying to stop jc, a cupid, from shooting the love of her life, beatrice.
the celestial glow is blinding by understreetlights - firewatch au - did i think ava and beatrice sitting around, looking at trees, and falling love with each other through walkie talkies was going to be interesting? no, but the world loves to prove me wrong.
too cold, it's withdrawal by KatieQgle - captain america au - give this one a chance, even if you don't like marvel. beatrice is hot as fuck as bucky and honestly the winter soldier plot line needed a little sapphic yearning. come on, avatrice in the army in the 1940s, being badass and fighting nazis together? who wouldn't love that?
i have a ton more, reach out if you want them!
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boojangs · 5 months
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You, Me, Us: Chapter 16
To Dance With Wolves: Chapter 31
Two for Tripping (Into Love): Chapter 8
The Gothification of Enid Sinclair
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crispycreambacon · 2 months
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What Happened After the Filming of Miyamoto Musashi’s Episode
(link should take you to the context)
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concreteburialplot · 5 months
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The Wonder Of You
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pairing: nicholas ruffilo x fem!reader
masterlist: here | crossposted: ao3 | word count: 4.5k
summary: you surprise your boyfriend with festive lingerie for his birthday. he shows you just how grateful he is with all the love he has in his corazón.
warnings: sweet, soft, FLUFFY, making love, soft dom!nick, festive (xmas-y), established dom/sub relationship, quite domestic, fingering/handjob, oral [m receiving], throat fucking, p n v, creampie, praise, again nick has a big fat one sorry it's just canon at this point - massive cocks are rare but he's got one ok, 18+ MDNI
a/n: happy birthday nicky🩷
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And when you smile, the world is brighter You touch my hand, and I'm a king
Your kiss to me is worth a fortune Your love for me is everything
I'll guess I'll never know the reason why You love me as you do
That's the wonder The wonder of you
- 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙒𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙔𝙤𝙪 // 𝙀𝙡𝙫𝙞𝙨 𝙋𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙮
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Your boyfriend sits in the living room while you spend time curating the perfect set up for his birthday in your bedroom. You already lit the candles, mostly unscented but some which smell like a warm campfire and one that smells like candy cane, because you know he likes that one especially. There’s a playlist softly playing in the background, curated with a mix of his favorite songs that set a tone, lots of Deftones of course.
You undress and pile your clothes on top of the hamper before slipping on the set you bought for his birthday. It was lacy red triangles covering your breasts and it flowed down over your torso in a light mesh. You step into what is really a joke and an overstatement of being called underwear – it was just a couple of straps, completely bare in the middle between your legs. A pair of puffballs hang just above your ass and the edges of the babydoll top are lined in white fluff. Stepping in front of the full-length mirror you smooth out the mesh and take in your silhouette. Your immediate reaction is discomfort, feeling like these are clothes you don’t belong in. The outfit is too revealing, too holiday-y, too colorful, too much.
But you know how much he loves Christmas and how much he won’t care what you’re wearing once he sees you in lace. Man brains are quite simple after all, he probably won’t be able to tell you the color of the outfit when he’s done with you.
You sigh, making a mental note to push your insecurities to the side for the night and try to just embrace your sensuality for him.
Your hand hesitates before turning the doorknob and peaking your head out. He must’ve gotten bored since you see him working on some tattoo design on his iPad.
“Okay. Ready.” You say quickly before shutting the door and making it to the edge of the bed. You sit and unwrap a candy cane to suck on.
It’s clear he was unsure what exactly he was walking into by the surprised look on his face as he takes in the room before landing on you.
“Oh.” His eyes wide and locked on you. “This is what you’ve been working on?” He asks, crossing the room over to you. “What’s all this for?”
“Your birthday silly.” You place the end of the candy cane in your mouth and pull it out with a pop, your eyes fixated on his.
He glances over at the clock on the nightstand reading 11:14 pm. “Well, it’s not my birthday quite yet.”
“I figured we could start off strong.” You shrug, “I’m sure by the time we’re done it’ll be your birthday anyway.”
“Quite a bold assumption, with how fucking good you look.” He jokes, not being able to stay off your body.
“Mmm.” You hum around the candy cane before pulling it out to speak. “I’m sure we can make it last.”
You find his wrist and carefully bring it down while you part your legs for him, letting his fingers find your exposed pussy.
His eyes round at the discovery, “Fuck you’re so wet already.” He mumbles, cupping your cheek to tilt your face up to him. “You’re this wet just from wanting to please me?”
You hum an “mhm” around the sugary cane looking up at him.
His fingers glide up your folds exploring you while his eyes can’t look anywhere besides your occupied mouth. “Fuck baby.” The hand on your cheek slides down to around your throat, gently with no pressure. “I need that to be my cock in your mouth.”
You knew it wouldn’t take long for him to slip into his usual self. You hook your finger at the curve in the cane and slide it past your lips, letting your lips stay parted for him.
“Mmm.” His hand around your throat slithers up to your jaw and tugs his thumb across your lips before dipping it into your mouth. You instantly wrap your lips around his finger and suck on him just as you would his cock. Your eyes never leave his as you do so.
“Oh, what a good girl, getting a head start.” He praises which only fuel you.
You hum and nod around his finger while your hands fumble to find his zipper. You waste no time trying to palm him over his jeans, you don’t want to keep him waiting on his birthday after all. You tug his pants and underwear down past his knees, letting his hard cock spring free smacking against his stomach. No matter how long you’ve been together the sight of his size never ceases to amaze you. It never fails to fill your tummy with excitement and fear.
You don’t hesitate to begin working his length in your hands. His skin is silky smooth to the touch and the blood rushing through his member makes his veins so prominent beneath your fingertips.
The feeling of your hands has his eyes fluttering closed for just a second. His fingers never halted between your legs, now slipping into your entrance.
He leans down and presses his forehead against yours before pulling his thumb from your mouth. His gray-blue eyes lovingly track yours as he holds your jaw gently. “You are so pretty.” He says softly in the space between you two, so quiet you’d think the room was full of people and he only wanted you to hear.
A blush coats your cheeks, and you shake your head. “No, no. I look so silly.”
“Uh uh,” He nudges his nose against yours sweetly, “You know better than to say no to me.”
A small smile tugs at your lips, because for some reason it makes you feel so safe when he asserts himself like that. “Yes sir.” You reply meekly.
The edges of his lips tug up into a grin, “That’s my girl.” He whispers.
He pulls away just a bit to glance around the room, the red LED lights with the Christmas lights hung around the room and all the candles lit. “You did this all for me?” He asks quietly, holding your chin up.
“Of course.” You whisper back, looking up at him in awe. Even when his hair in a messy bun and thick rimmed glasses, he’s still the most handsome man in the world to you. “You work so hard. You deserve a little fun. And what’s more fun than having me be a toy for you?”
A chuckle escapes his lips, “While I can’t argue with that, I don’t need all of this for my birthday. It’s just another day to me, you know that.”
“I know. But I love you.” You state softly, nuzzling your cheek against his palm. “You deserve everything, and I just want to make you feel good. I want to show you how much I love you.”
“I love you too.” He smiles and leans down to your lips pressing a long kiss against them. “Well, let’s get that pretty mouth of yours to work then, hm?”
Rosy-pink tints your cheeks and a flurry of butterflies swirl in your tummy. You nod and let him pull his fingers from you. He slips them into his mouth and sucks them clean, humming at your taste. “God, you taste so fucking good.”
“Sh.” You wave off his compliment, mostly because it worsens the warmth on your cheeks.
The bed squeaks a bit as you readjust to lay flat on your stomach to be level with his cock. Your mouth waters at the sight of it. Thick and massive, the first half of his shaft a darker shade of his olive skin tone, with the second half much lighter. His tip swollen and pink with a driblet of precum pooling at the head.
You take no time in licking a fat strip up his slit before taking his head into your mouth. He lets out a grunt at the stimulation of your warm mouth around him. His hand finds your head and tangles his fingers into your hair.
You savor him, rolling swirls on the underside of his cock and then circling around the tip. His head is so big it almost fills your entire mouth, so you use your hands to take care of the rest of his length as you begin bobbing on him.
“Fuck.” He groans, tugging at your hair a bit, “Fuck that feels so good.”
You swoon at the praise which makes you work harder. Your hands working him, squeezing around his shaft for extra stimulation. You move up and down on him, taking as much of him in your mouth as you can, letting him hit the back of your throat each time.
“God, look how good you are for me, taking me so well.” He grunts a bit, rutting his hips for work just a little, knowing that too much might hurt you.
Your heart swells at his words and the noises he’s making, you can tell how much he’s enjoying himself and that’s all you wanted. You wiggle your ass up a bit just to show off just how little the strappy lingerie covers you.
“Mmm.” He hums, his hand running down your back and squeezing a cheek before landing a hard smack against it.
While you half expected it, it still stings but it’s exactly what you wanted. You know he won’t hurt you too much tonight since he’s being so sweet but usually, he loves hurting you and you love taking it.
You whine around his member and take him even deeper down your throat. You try your best to suppress a gag the deeper you go on him, but it’s not that successful. His fingers curl stiffer around your hair at the sound and swivels his hips forward ever so slightly, enough to make you gag again. He chuckles at your struggle, deriving twisted pleasure out of it. When you don’t give him a warning sign he pushes further down your throat. His favorite thing is testing just how far you’ll go for him. He loves how hard you work for him, and he doesn’t take it for granted, he loves watching his best girl choke on his cock. 
You whine around him again and look up at him with your eyes filling with tears from the pain of his girth in your throat.
His lips pull to a sinister smirk at the sight of your makeup running down your face. “Oh my, look at you.” He loosens his grip in your hair and instead combs through it as he speaks. “You look so fucking gorgeous with your pretty mouth full of my cock.”
The praise alone has you nearly dripping on the bed and fills your heart with loving pride. You want nothing more than to please him and make him happy, especially on his birthday.
You moan with your mouth full and looking up at him through your thick lashes and he looks down at you in awe.
“Can I try something with you, my love?” He asks sweetly, as if he doesn’t have the power to command you to do whatever he wanted.
You pull off of him with a pop, nodding with a string of drool still hanging from his tip to your mouth.
“How about you lay on your back for me huh? Hang your head off the edge of the bed.”
Fear slithers up your spine at the idea of him having that much more access to your throat from that angle.
Nick picks up on your hesitation and bends down to your eyelevel, taking your chin gently between his fingers. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to baby. But I promise I’ll be gentle, okay? You can pat my thigh if you need me to stop.”
You tug at your bottom lip in thought but ultimately agree with an “okay” in an already raspy voice. You do as he asked and flipped onto your back, letting your head hang just off the mattress edge.
“Good girl.” He stretches out the words as he watches you put your body on display for him.
His leans down you as soon as you’ve settled. He uses both hands to gently finish brush all the rogue hairs away from your face and neck. His tattooed hands then find your cheeks and cupping them. “You are so goddamn beautiful.” He smiles, just taking in the wonder of you. “I can’t wait to make a mess out of you.”
You beam up at him and he can’t help but widen his grin. His thumb rubs your cheek tenderly before leaning down to press a kiss to your messy lips. He nudges his nose against yours, “I love you so fucking much, Princess.” He whispers.
Your heart swells at your favorite petname. With the way he treats you, he always made you feel like a princess, and he always made you feel so taken care of, so protected.
You were his. Completely, totally, entirely.
You belonged to him, and he belonged to you.
“I love you too Nicky.” You reply softly in the same low volume.
You let there be moment of comforting silence between you, your foreheads pressed against each other, his hands lovingly holding your head. You revel in the deep adoration you have for one another.
“I’m ready.”
“Okay my doll.” He presses another peck on your lips before returning to his original standing position.
He takes hold of his member by the base and uses it to press his swollen head against your partially parted lips. You open up for him, giving him full access to your mouth. He slides his length in, moving past your tongue immediately going for the throat. While the new position allows him to get deeper, you’re pleasantly surprised to find that it doesn’t trigger your gag reflex nearly as much as the previous position. This discovery allows you to relax and let him have his way with you.
He starts slow to test the water with long deep strokes but soon picks up speed. His hips thrust in and out of your mouth vigorously getting lost in it.
“Gah -  fuck.” He groans out in a hiss. His hand smothers down around your neck, pressing down on the sides a bit. He wanted to feel himself destroy your trachea.
He leans forward a bit, only shoving himself down your throat more, to trace his fingers down your front finding your closed, bent legs. He taps your thigh softly, “C’mon baby, let me see that pretty pussy of yours.”
You didn’t think it was possible to feel anything other than the monster in your throat but still, your cheeks heated up and a flutter grew between your legs.
You bend to him, like you always do, obeying him out of devotion not out of direction. His hand slides down your inner thigh as you spread for him. You feel a tinge of insecurity and maybe embarrassment in your revealing lingerie, the crotchless thong offering no coverage for you.
His fingers glide up between your folds, circling around your clit before reaching further down and gathering the juices at your entrance. From this angle he can’t dip inside you but god just the proximity of his touch has you pulsing around nothing. He retracts his reach and brings his fingers to his mouth, slipping them in desperately needing the taste of you. He groans around his fingers covered in your slick and continues to roll his hips harshly into your throat as he savors you.
“God, fuck baby.” He groans and slowly pulls from your throat. As uncomfortable as it was having him lodged there, it brings a vague feeling of emptiness. You love having him inside you, one way or another.
Drool connects his member to your mouth in strands, his cock coated in saliva.
“I need your fucking pussy baby. I need to feel you.” He says, slipping out of the rest of his clothes, his body on full display.
His body was tattooed almost completely. Most people wouldn’t consider a body like his anything special perse, he wasn’t muscular or toned really, mostly just lean. Except for some muscle in his arms from playing bass and lugging around instruments all the time. He’d been very skinny most of his life but as he’s gotten older there was thin extra layer around his tummy, which you loved. As long as you’d known him, he never liked to show much skin, he was never one to be shirtless for no reason. Which you never really understood because to you, he was the most attractive man in any room. But since he wasn’t fond of showing skin, there were parts of him only you got to see. Tattoos only you knew were there and knew the stories of. Tattoos only you got to trace with your fingers and your tongue.
Loving him and catering to him was an art only you knew.
You nod and sit up, but before you even get a chance to breathe, he’s grasped your thighs and tugged you the edge of the bed. He whisks you up prompting you to wrap your legs around his hips. Your arms slink around his neck and you once again press your forehead against his, this time getting a good view of his eyes. In the dim light with the faint red glow from the light strips, his eyes look extra green. You loved how his eyes could change depending on the setting. It amazed you how no matter the color, blue, green or grey, they always looked perfect for him.
“You are so, so good for me. I couldn’t ask for a better girl.” He says softly.
“You mean that?” You ask past the strain in your throat, leaning forward a bit to be even closer with him.
“Of course, my darling. Look at all you’ve done for me, and how good you make me feel.” He gushes.
“I do?” You hum ghosting against his lips.
“Mhm.” He hums back.
He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, you reciprocate, tangling your fingers in his messy black hair before lengthening the kiss. It’s soft, sweet, loving, patient.
It doesn’t take long for the kiss to escalate into a passionate flame. He climbs up onto the bed clumsily with you still wrapped around him. He carefully drops you in the middle of bed, your head landing on plush pillows without interrupting your kiss.
Your lips and tongues dance together as his hands wander your body. His soft hands gliding your every curve beneath the thin babydoll mesh. He detaches from your lips and begins kissing down your neck. His breathing is rapid and needy.
“I love you. I love every part of you,” He says hastily between open mouth kisses. “Every fucking part.”
You’re dizzy with how much you love him. “I love you too.”
He’s so fucking worked up that he’s already rutting the tip of his cock up and down your folds, putting pressure against your buzzing clit.
You whine at the sensation of his tip against your sensitivity and his sucking on the weak spot on your neck. Your hand tangles in his hair, gripping it with need.
As much as you don’t want to interrupt the sweetness of it all, you need him in a much different way. “Please fuck me, fuck I need your cock so fucking bad please.” You beg, the ache between your thighs screaming for relief.
He chuckles against your neck, even though you can tell he needs it just as bad. It doesn’t take much to bring you both back to your normal depravity. “Hm. You’re gonna have to do better than that. What is it you need baby?”
You groan a bit in defiant impatience. “Your cock. I need your fucking cock.”
“Hm. A little sassy are we? Not even a please that time.” He rolls his hips into you, sliding the underneath of his length between your soaked lips. “Let’s try again. Be more specific, what do you want?”
You huff, over his delaying. “I want your big fat fucking cock to fuck me raw. Please.”
“That’s my good girl.” The edges of his lips curl to a smirk, “Well. I think we can arrange that.”
Before you could even respond he’s already pressed his tip into your entrance. He wants to ram right into you, you can tell, but he knows better than that. He’s gotten really good at knowing how to stretch you out properly. His thumb finds your sensitive nub and begins rolling tight circles into it to help you relax around him.
“That’s it baby.” He reassures you. “You’re doing so good for me.” He fills you slowly, inch by inch carefully until he’s bottomed out. You hiss at the pain of him inside you. He fills you entirely and the stretch burns at first but sweetens when he begins moving in and out of you. Deep grumbly groans fill his chest at the feeling you tight around him.
“Fuck.” You wince a bit but let your eyes flutter close.
His movements start slow, but you feel his restraint bubbling beneath your fingertips like a volcano. “You’re doing such a good job, Princess, taking me so fucking good.” He groans into your neck.
His fingers work diligently on your pulsing clit, helping ease the pain a bit. You’ve been worked up all night thinking about this moment, combined with how his cock reaches the deepest parts of you and how his fingers work where you need him, you feel like you could explode any second.
“I’m trying to go slow baby, but you just feel so fucking good.” He says between the breathy moans that escape him. His actions match his statement, his hips working in quick but deep thrusts in and out of you.
You whine loudly at his words, only worsening you impending climax. Tingle fill your body down to your legs that wrap around his waist. You love seeing and feeling just how much he can’t control himself with you. The knot in your tummy is so tight it feels like it’s about to snap.
“I’m close.” You warn hastily, unsure of how much longer you’ll last – and you know he won’t like it if you don’t ask for permission first. “Can I cum? Please – fuck, please I’m so close.”
His fingers on your clit speed up just a bit to help you over your finish line. “Cum for me baby, c’mon cum all over my cock.”
Bright ecstasy blooms from where he works on you, sending a blazing buzzing across your skin. Explosions fill your tummy and your heart beats so fast it feels like it could rupture.
“Don’t fight it Princess, go ahead, give in to me.” He hums just beneath your ear.
Your nails dig deep into his back as your spine curves violently up from the mattress. Screams curses and moans rip through your chest and fill the room.
“Oh my, there we go.” His thrusts speeding up beginning to chase his own orgasm. “That���s my good girl, cumming so hard for me.”
His deep raspy voice and the way he’s talking you through with a bit of overstimulation from his persistent fingers pushes you over a different edge, feeling yourself squirt your juices all over his cock.
“Oh, look at that,” He lets out a strained groan. “I know it’s so much isn’t it?”
You cling onto him, biting down on his shoulder as you ride out your orgasm. His thrusts get quick and sloppy and hard, probably getting pushed over his own edge by the way your walls spasm around him.
“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He growls, his hands sliding beneath your thighs and hooking behind your knees to keep you in place. He slams hard into you repeatedly until he goes rigid, and you feel his cock twitch inside you – which with how large he is, is a bit painful but you love it. Milky white paints your walls and fills you up fully, pouring out of you before he even pulls out.
He rests atop of you and lets himself soften a bit before pulling from you. It’s an odd feeling being so full then being so empty, but at least you have his cum pooling inside of you for now.
He falls next to you and your chests rise and fall in time. After you’ve both come down a little, you look over at each other with glossy eyes and soft smiles.
-
After you both have showered and cleaned up, you change into some cozy pajamas. A unplanned cold front had rolled in so the warmest pajamas you had were matching Christmas ones. Nicholas lit the fireplace while you made your signature hot chocolate.
You cozy up next to him on the couch, beneath a blanket and a cat or two. The fireplace warmth and the lit Christmas tree are the only things lighting the room besides the glow of the mostly full moon from outside the window. You nestle your head on his shoulder and watch the fire crackle beneath the hung stockings – one for each of you and for each cat.
The heat of the hot cocoa almost burns your tongue – just almost, just like you like it. The hot drink fills your chest, warming you from the inside. Your eyes drift to the lit Christmas tree you had put up just a couple days ago. You can’t help but smile at how each ornament has a special memory attached. You take it in and appreciate it now because it is a miracle the tree lasted even this long with the cats trying to climb it every chance they got.
Even though you wanted to wait, he was so excited to put it up after Thanksgiving that you couldn’t say no. You can rarely say no to him, especially when his eyes are so bright. Holidays weren’t ever your thing, but he always made them so special. Being with him is a dream, so you savor the magic he brings.
You’ll love the holidays, as long as you have him to celebrate with.
You snuggle into him shivering a bit before looking up at him, catching him admiring the fire and the tree too.
“Hey.” You say quietly to catch his attention but not disrupt the peace. He looks down at you, with eyes so fully of contentment. “Happy birthday.”
The edges of his mouth curl into a happy grin. “Thank you, my love.” He kisses your forehead, “You didn’t have to do all of that for me.”
If you were more awake, you’d tease him and ask if he was complaining but you were far too drained for that.
“I know, but I wanted to. Because I love you.” You plant a peck on his shoulder.
“I’ll never understand why you love me as you do.” He states, using the hand not occupied with a mug to find and hold yours. “But god, am I grateful. You truly are the love of my life.”
You can’t hide the wide smile that stretches across your face and the blush that coats your cheeks. “And you are mine, Nicholas.”
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tag list; i don't currently have a general tag list for all my fics so if you'd like to be added to that pls lmk!
a/n; thank you for reading if you did! i'm not that good at writing smut or fluff so sorry if it wasn't that great! this is probably the fluffiest thing ive ever written and im embarassed 🫣
Thank you for any support you guys ever give me on any of my works, it truly means the world to me that you guys enjoy my words and lil plots.
let me know if you liked it! i love hearing your thoughts🥰🩷
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linaxart · 5 months
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Below him is Earth, floating in an ocean of stars. The sun is just rising, lending it a kind of halo, which is a view he thinks he’s never gotten tired of. His favourite, though, is his view of the planet at night, when it’s lit by a web of man-made stars, stretching across countries and along coastlines, its cities glowing like tiny suns. Aside from the films and books he’s seen and read, sent to him every week or so, and the transmissions, it’s his only real indication that he isn’t the only person in the universe. Doesn’t alleviate the loneliness entirely, but it makes him feel just a little less isolated.
- from @youssefguedira's amazing amazing fic planet earth is blue (and there's nothing I can do) which is just so very perfect and I already love so much <3 and for @theartguard's bi-monthly theme Fic-Inspired!
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Timber Timbre
The firework that sets him off is probably a Roman candle, and way closer than all the other ones have been, by Hen’s estimate. Eddie is on the ground before she can say anything and Hen’s blood runs a little cold at the realization of what’s happening. 
“Eddie,” she says gently. “It’s still fireworks, it’s okay.” 
Eddie is squatting low behind the kitchen island, head down, and he’s visibly shaking. He nods jerkily, but his breathing doesn’t slow at all. Hen’s heart hurts, but she’s careful not to get too close. She’s well versed in many a mental health crisis, but what to do when your friend is having combat flashbacks feels a little out of her depth. She gets low with him, keeps her tone soft and even. “How can I help, Eddie?” 
His eyes are wild when they meet hers, his hands clenching around nothing like he’s physically clinging to the present. “Can you-“ he stutters. “Where is-? I need Buck.” 
Hen is on her feet as quickly as she can without startling him. “I’ll find him, okay? You stay right here.” 
Downstairs, Buck’s holding the heavy bag for Chim, saying something that was probably meant to be encouraging but comes out more antagonistic. Their shift into being brothers has obviously been going well. They both stop in their tracks when they see the look on Hen’s face. 
“Eddie needs you.” It feels important to say it the way he did.
Another firework goes off then and Buck pales. “Oh, shit.” 
Then he’s taking the stairs two at a time with Hen and Chim not far behind. “Kitchen.” She calls after him. 
Eddie is where she left him, but now his hands are pressed against his ears. Buck squats down in front of him slowly, ducking his head so he can catch Eddie’s eye. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s me, I’m here.” He says, like it’s definitely not the first time.
He looks back and Hen and Chimney, whispers, “Can you guys sit with us a second?” 
They nod, taking their places off to the left across from them, backs against the kitchen counter. Close enough if they need help, far enough away to keep their bubble intact. Hen’s grateful for the direction, and when Bobby comes out of his office, she waves him over, finger to her lips. He doesn’t question it, just squats down on Hen’s other side. 
Eddie shudders, breathes hard out of his nose. Says, “Buck.” Real soft. 
Buck nods, scoots closer at the recognition, reaches out to run his fingertips feather-light over Eddie’s forearms. “You’re in LA, Eddie. At the 118.”
Eddie gasps like he’s just reached the surface of water. “Doesn’t- doesn’t feel like it.” 
Buck grimaces. “I know. I know, let’s go through it, okay?” 
Eddie nods, once, lets Buck take his hands and keep going. “I feel,” Buck prompts. 
Eddie closes his eyes. “Panicked.” 
Buck nods, soft look on his face like pride. It makes Hen’s eyes water. Their boy has grown up so much. 
“Because the fireworks made me think about,” 
“The chopper going down. Getting shot at while the fire was burning. Greggs.” Eddie grits out through bared teeth. 
Buck rubs his thumbs over the backs of Eddie’s hands. “But if I look around I can see,” 
Eddie forces his eyes open with what looks like immense effort, trains them on Buck for a solid ten seconds before he looks around the rest of the room. “You. The 118. Bobby. Hen. Chimney.” 
He looks at each of them in turn. Hen nods encouragingly, waves a little, which seems to increase the recognition on his face. 
Buck smiles at him. “Yeah, that’s good, real good.” 
Some of the tension seeps slowly from Eddie’s shoulders, and Buck rewards it with a squeeze of their joined hands. “Tell me what day it is.” 
Another firework goes off in the distance and Hen wants to murder someone. Bobby looks like he’d help her without a second thought. The fucking audacity to set off explosives when you live by a firehouse is astounding. 
Eddie winces but Buck stays firm with him, tapping his fingers rhythmically against Eddie’s knuckles. “What’s the date, Eds?” 
“Fourth of July.” 
“Exactly. Which means,” 
“Morons.” Eddie answers, rote, like he’s been trained. The way Buck’s handling him right now, Hen supposes he has been. 
“You got it.” He praises, pressing forward until his forehead rests against Eddie’s. “Chris was excited, though, remember?” 
“Poke cake.” Eddie responds and Bobby smiles. 
Midwestern traditions often mystify Hen, but Christopher was so excited to make that weird jello cake with Bobby and Buck that she couldn’t help but decide she loved that one. They spent all evening in Bobby and Athena’s kitchen last night, making gratuitously American dishes that should be objectively gross but that Denny and Chris were wild for. Poke cakes with red and blue jello, things being called “salad” that have never and will never be salad, and burgers that were always a welcome staple in Grant-Nash cookouts. 
Buck is tapping his fingers on Eddie’s knees now, alternating as he prods Eddie to talk him through Christopher’s latest science project. Bilateral brain stimulation, her brain provides. Works for most long-term trauma treatment but can also be helpful during flashbacks. Evan “Internet Research Extraordinaire” Buckley certainly hasn’t been a slouch in this endeavor. 
As he talks through Buck’s prompts, Eddie is slowly relaxing, sitting up on his own a bit more but shifting closer to Buck, tension slowly bleeding out of him as he points out the things he knows, the things he can see, what Bobby made for dinner, what Chimney’s favorite show is right now, what class he helped Hen run flashcards for. It makes Hen’s heart grow too big in her chest. To know that they’re a part of Eddie’s recovery, of him feeling safe. 
“Where are you, Eddie?” Buck asks again after a few minutes of this. They’re side by side now, shoulders brushing as they lean back against the island cabinets. 
Eddie takes a deep breath, sags a little against Buck. “I’m in LA. I’m at the 118 firehouse. You’re all here with me. Everyone’s safe.” 
Hen smiles encouragingly at him, Chim says, “We’re here for you, man.” 
Eddie looks away, mutters, “Esto es tan vergonzoso,” color staining his cheeks. 
“Nuh uh.” Buck answers, firm. “None of that. No tienes nada de que avergonzarte.” 
Hen knows Buck spent a while in Peru. Bartending, she thinks. She’s heard him speak Spanish to people on calls before, but his accent has historically been horrendous. It sounds like being in the Diaz orbit has been helpful for that. Hen doesn’t speak Spanish well, but she’s been in LA long enough to get the gist most of the time. 
“Sorry you guys had to see that.” Eddie apologizes anyway, ignoring Buck.
Bobby shuts that down immediately. “Everybody’s got their demons, Eddie. We’re just happy we can help with yours.” 
He tells Eddie he should take the rest of the night, even as Eddie protests that he’s fine and he doesn’t want to leave them hanging. “It’s just a few hours, Eddie. Take him home, Buck?” 
Buck nods, looking relieved that he didn’t have to ask permission. Eddie still looks a little mortified, but it’s tempered by Bobby’s careful hand on his shoulder. “Get some rest, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
“When do you think they’ll give in and just get married?” Chim asks after Buck bundles Eddie into his Jeep. 
Bobby snorts. “I’ve had the paperwork ready to go for years.”
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