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rninies · 23 days

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✮ she looks just like a dream

౨ৎ sunday x reader. fluff, fem!reader, ceo!sunday is really hot idc, inspired by tears of themis marius card (iykyk), sunday might be ooc im sorry </3 — wc: 2,836

notes. guys i love sunday i want him so bad please

you hold on to the folds of your dress as you look around at the throng of people around you. two days ago, sunday extended an invitation to you to come to a charity auction he would be hosting tonight. one of his assistants had picked you up soon after you had finished with your paperwork, and here you are, taking in the wondrous architecture of a famous resort’s lobby.

everything looks so expensive here, you think, a grim expression on your face. rich people do have it easy, huh.

“please wait here a moment,” his assistant tells you. “i’ll get your registration finalized for you.”

“thank you.” you smile at him, watching her round the corner and leave you alone. again. you desperately want to give sunday a call, but you know he must be busy greeting guests and taking care of the preparations, so with a heavy sigh, you decide against it.

as you watch the stream of wealthy-looking people come in, a conversation catches your interest.

“who does sunday think he is? ordering people around like that!” you turn your head to see two people, seemingly a bit older than you, talking to each other. “i’ve been in the family's corporations longer than him, so there’s nothing to be afraid of!”

you are just about to approach them, but his assistant bustles back with papers. “your registration is done. come with me, i’ll lead you to the venue.” you turn your head back, about to protest, but causing a scene would be more than you bargained for, so you reluctantly follow him into the elevator.

an awkward silence engulfs the metal box you both are standing in before the assistant breaks it. “you don’t have to worry about what he said. he’s been like this for a long time.”

“eh?” you chirp, shocked. “y-you heard that?”

“yes,” he chuckles. “it’s quite common, i would say. i’m quite used to hearing those awful remarks they say about master sunday. he said he doesn’t mind, anyway, so it’s no use trying to defend him.”

you smile a bit at that. typical, indifferent sunday. “yeah… that’s true,” you murmur as the elevator comes to a halt. when you step out, you immediately feel overwhelmed by the flood of people greeting you.

maybe it’s because you’re used to only seeing a few people in the law firm and the fact that you don’t go out to parties often that you feel nauseous at the sight of the overcrowded room. you tried searching for sunday through the mass, but your height makes it harder for you to see above people’s heads.

you eventually spot him reclining in a chair, talking to a few people you recognize as the VIPs of the event. he looks like he isn’t going to finish any time soon, so you wave your hand and mouth that you’ll be waiting for him as sunday glances at you. your boyfriend gives you a small smile before turning his attention back to the group.

there is something different about sunday on this occasion, you decide. you’re used to seeing him in suits at important events, but the fact that his family crest is embossed on the suit makes it so much different. he looks so… different.

“y/n?” sunday's voice knocks you out of your daydream and back into reality. “why do you look so dazed? do i look so attractive that you aren’t able to take your eyes off me?”

your face flushes red, quickly turning away. “w-what are you talking about? you don’t look attractive. i was simply thinking about what drink to get,” you say, regaining your composure. though, you aren’t able to deny the fact that sunday is indeed attractive, even in his normal attire.

curse him and his family genes, you think to yourself.

“eh? love, why are you so mean to me these days?” sunday whines, his infamous puppy dog eyes coming into play. he always uses them on you, knowing they have such an effect on you. there isn’t a single moment in which the use of his puppy dog eyes doesn't make you tell the truth or agree to something he suggested. you, however, learned how to resist sunday's temptations.

“never mind that, mr. sunday,” you remark, a twinkle in your eyes as you look up at him. “if you were busy, you didn’t have to come to me. it looks like people are still wanting to talk to you,” you say, looking around at the throng almost surrounding you both. sunday gives a little chuckle.

“mm, that’s true. i’m quite famous, aren’t i?” sunday returns rather smugly, making you frown. “i’m just kidding! either way, i’m pretty sure they already understand that if I am currently talking to you, i don’t want to be disturbed because no one is trying to disturb-”

“excuse me, master sunday,” sunday's assistant appears, cutting sunday off abruptly. “there’s someone here who’d like to speak to you.”

the heir of the family sighs. “you really had to choose the worst timing,” he grumbles, running a hand through his hair. “okay, i’ll be back, so stay put,” sunday continues, leaving to follow his assistant. you watch him until he’s out of sight, getting up to choose a drink. refreshers in every shade of color are laid out on the table that you almost don’t know which to pick.

“are you having trouble choosing a drink, my lady?” an unfamiliar voice emerges behind you, and turning around you realize that it is one of the men complaining about sunday in the lobby. “you don’t look too familiar with these drinks so how about you let me help you, hm?”

you cringe slightly at the attempt to flirt, but you offer him a smile in hopes of being polite. “oh, um, no thank you. i can get someone else to help me.”

the man shows no signs of leaving you alone, making you even more uncomfortable. “are you sure? all of the staff are busy as of the moment, so i can help.”

i might as well accept his offer. he doesn’t look like he’ll take no as an answer, you grimace before forcing a pleasant smile on your face. “okay, sure. which drink should-”

“ah, there you are!” sunday materializes, wrapping a hand around your waist and leaning over you. “i’ve been looking all over for you, sweetheart,” he drawls, you raise an eyebrow at the use of the new pet name. you soon catch up with the fact that he’s trying to help you out of this awkward situation.

“sunday! sorry for disappearing. i got thirsty and wanted to get something to drink so here i am,” you take a look at the man beside you, who lets out a ‘tch’ with a scowl on his face and leaves, allowing you to let your breath go. “thanks, sunday. he wouldn’t leave me alone ever since i got to this table.”

“yuki, huh,” sunday mutters, arm still around you. “he’s always been trying to get on my nerves. ever since i was revealed to be the heir to family corporation, that is.”

“really?” you query, surprise crossing over your face. “i overheard him- oh!” an exclamation leaves your sentence hanging as a waiter accidentally bumps into you, spilling the drinks he was carrying onto your dress.

“ah! i am so sorry, madam!” the waiter panics, whipping out a few napkins in an attempt to wipe away the mess on your dress. “i wasn’t watching my step, please forgive me!” he looks even more nervous when he glimpses sunday standing beside you with a minuscule frown on his face.

“hey, hey! it’s okay! this happens a lot during parties anyway,” your try at calming the waiter down wasn’t working, so you nudge sunday to help you reassure the former.

“ow!” sunday hisses, tenderly rubbing the area you elbowed. “i-it’s okay. just be more careful of where you’re going next time, okay?”

“yes!” the waiter squeaks out and leaves, but not before gracing you with another ‘sorry!’ for his mistake. as soon as he disappears, a small pout envelops your face.

“aw, now what am i supposed to do?” you wonder, patting your stained dress with a few more tissues sunday offers you. “I don’t have any spare clothes.”

“hehe,” sunday's little laugh catches your attention, and you furrow your eyebrows in reply. “you, my lady, are in luck because you have the sunday as your boyfriend and he’s always prepared for emergencies like this. come on, let’s go to the guest room.”

“why are we going there?” you question. you’re used to sunday and his little surprises, but you never imagined that he would have a spare change of clothes lying around for you to wear.

“to get you to change, of course!” sunday responds enthusiastically, grabbing a hold of your hand. he finds his assistant first, though, “if anyone asks where i am, tell them i have an important matter to take care of.”

you let out a giggle. “really? important matter? how is this important?”

“that’s because you’re always the most important in my eyes,” sunday tells you with his boyish grin, and he says with such ease that your cheeks are dusted pretty pink. you smile to yourself, a giddy grin, feeling as if it were only you and sunday in the world.

“okay, here we are,” sunday says as you arrive at a room, unlocking it with a gold-clasped key he procures from his pocket. “you can go ahead and change. i’ll wait out here.”

you nod in agreement, entering the room and shutting the door behind you. your gaze immediately falls upon a strikingly gorgeous violet dress laid out on the bed before you, adorned with layers and layers of deep purple that glows under the soft moonlight; complimenting the necklace spread out beside it.

at first glance, it seems like a normal necklace anyone could find in jewelry stores, but as you step forward to take a closer look, you let out a soft gasp: your name is engraved on it. you pick it up, noting how the necklace itself feels expensive.

though, you suppose, you should be used to expensive gifts from sunday. the man had been doing this even before they were dating. you let out a fond sigh; a small smile on your face as you take your dirty dress off to change into the one sunday had prepared.

sunday didn’t have to wait long for you, for you soon opens the door. sunday eyes widen, staring at you in the dress and the necklace he had bought two weeks previously. you look stunning.

you look like you had just stepped out of a fantasy royal novel.

a princess.

you look just like a dream. the prettiest girl sunday has ever seen.

“sunday? hello?” you wave a hand in front of his face, pulling him out of his daydream. “h-how do i look?”

“gorgeous,” sunday isn’t able to say anything other than that; his mind malfunctioning faster than his coffee machine had done this morning. “it-it looks really nice on you. i mean, of course it does, i was the one who chose that dress anyway.”

you press a quick, gentle kiss on sunday's lips, causing sunday to freeze on the spot for the second time that evening. “thank you, sunday. i loved the necklace too, by the way.”

sunday gives you a small smile and another peck on the cheek. “let’s go. the auction is about to start soon,” he says, extending his hand to you and feeling his heart flutter as you take it.

the room they had left is filled with even more people, and if you were being honest, it was suffocating you. you take a seat close to the brightly decorated stage, watching sunday take control of the whole room.

“everyone, welcome to the second charity auction event hosted by the family corporation!” sunday exclaims joyously, as the people in the venue applaud politely. “i won’t be taking too much time for tonight’s opening ceremony, so, without further ado, let the event start!” sunday bows, and signals to the auctioneer to take the lead as he returns to your side.

the auction, with quite a few bidders raising the prices of objects you think shouldn’t cost more than a few hundred dollars, goes smoothly until it reaches the last object.

“alright, our last item for tonight! an amethyst hairpin starting at the cost of one thousand dollars!” the auctioneer states, waiting for bids.

“two thousand!” a hand emerges from the crowd.

“tch… three thousand!”

“three thousand five hundred!”

“four thousand!”

“ten thousand,” sunday interrupts smoothly, shocking both you and the audience. you stare wide-eyed at him, in disbelief that he would bid that much in an auction you didn’t expect him to participate in.

“ten thousand dollars from mr. sunday! going once,” counting down, the auctioneer stares around, but no one seems ready to object. “going twice… sold to mr. sunday at ten thousand dollars!” applause erupts from the audience, congratulating sunday for obtaining the hairpin. you clap as well, figuring out who sunday would spend that much money on a hairpin for (though, to be honest, you already have a feeling who it’s for).

you soon find out though - his assistant soon brings the hairpin over to sunday, who inspects it closely, smiling as he hands it over to you. “here, it’s for you.”

“eh?!” you cry out, in shock, that sunday would be giving you something worth more than your whole apartment. “wh-what do you mean? i thought- wait, huh?!”

sunday only laughs gaily at your reaction, eliciting the attention of bystanders. “why are you so shocked? the necklace you’re wearing costs almost as much as this hairpin. plus, this is a thank-you gift. i know you don’t really like going to big events like this but you still came.”

“of course i did,” you beam softly. “you’re my boyfriend after all - wouldn’t miss any of your events for the world. now, did you want to place the hairpin on me?”

sunday nods, sliding the hairpin slowly into your beautiful hair. the light shade of purple the hairpin reflects matches the dress you had on, and the sight makes sunday's heart fill with joy.

there’s something about you that feels different in sunday's eyes. you look so… dazzling and gorgeous that he fumbles for words to express himself.

“hm, it matches you very well as expected,” sunday says, a soft tone engulfing his usual cheeky voice. “now then, would you like to escape, my lady?”

“huh?” the sound barely leaves your mouth before sunday drags you away from the auction site, quickly getting into an elevator and pressing the doors shut before anyone could catch up to them. as soon as it opens again at the lobby, sunday makes a beeline for the exit, you thankfully not tripping on your heels.

sunday spots an empty park up ahead, and as expected sunday dashes across to it, letting go of your hand as you both drop to the grass.

you both lie in silence for a few moments, panting, before bursting into sweet laughter that interrupts the solace of the quiet evening.

“that… was probably one of the most epic moments i had… since forever!” sunday exclaims, turning to you with happiness painted over his face. “i was surprised you didn’t try protesting in the elevator.”

“how could i?” you return, out of breath. “i wanted to get out of there… as well. as much as i liked being with you in the family's events, i’d rather have it this way. just the two of us.”

“hm. just the two of us, huh? aw, you flatter me, baby,” sunday coos at you. he suddenly sits up, fumbling through the folds of his suit and sighing in relief when he holds his phone up. “oh, thank god. i thought i left my phone back there,” giving you a small smile, a familiar song starts playing. “would you like to dance, my lady?”

you take his smooth, outstretched hand, placing both hands on his broad shoulders while sunday places one of his hands on your waist.

you both aren’t doing anything special, barely any experience in dancing, and yet your bodies flow gracefully to the tune of the gentle song across the chilly night wind, dancing slowly under the glow of the moon.

with your foreheads pressed against each other’s, you lock eyes, basking in the beautiful moment together. relaxing never came easy to you both, given your incredibly busy schedules, but once given the chance, you both will take it in a heartbeat.

the familiar worries of being rude don’t cross your mind at all, realizing that you’re too focused on sunday. slow dancing in the dark with only the moon to light their dance floor, away from the chatter of the crowd. absolutely perfect.

the song quickly comes to an end, ending your lover’s dance with a small brush of lips.

“i love you so much, sunday” you whisper softly.

“i love you more, love,” sunday replies, the ghost of a grin upon his lips.

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schraubd · 1 year

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How To Train Your Writer

Right now, on a purely technical/stylistic level, ChatGPT is an okay writer.

It's not great. But it's not bad, either. It's better (and again, we're talking purely technical here -- leaving aside factual hallucinations and the like) than some of my students, and I teach at a law school. Of course, even when I taught undergraduates I was inordinately concerned that many of my students seemingly never learned and never were taught how to write. So there has always been a cadre of students who are very smart and diligent, but just didn't really have writing in their toolkit. And I'd say ChatGPT has now exceeded their level.

The thing that worries me most about ChatGPT, though, isn't that it's better than some of my law students. It's that it will always be better than essentially every middle schooler.

Learning to write is a process. Repetition is an important part of that process (this blog was a great asset to my writing just because it meant I was writing essentially every day for years). But part of that process is writing repeatedly even when one was is not good at writing. Writing a bunch of objectively mediocre essays in middle school is how you learn to write better ones in high school and even better ones in college.

ChatGPT is going to short-circuit that scaffolding. It is one thing to say that an excellent writer in, say, high school, can still outperform ChatGPT. But how will that kid become excellent if, in the years leading up to that, they're always going to underperform a bot that could do all their homework in 35 seconds? The pressure to kick that work over to the bot will be irresistible, and we're already learning that it's difficult-to-impossible to catch. How can we get middle schoolers to spend time being bad writers when they can instantly access tools that are better?

There might be workarounds. I've heard suggestions of reverting to long-hand essay writing and more in-class assignments. There might be ways to leverage ChatGPT as a comparator -- have them write their own essay, then compare it to a AI-generated one and play spot-the-difference. I think frankly that we might also be wise to abolish grading, at least in lower-level writing oriented classes, to take away that temptation to use the bot. I don't care how conscientious you are, there aren't a lot of 14 year olds who can stand putting in hours trying to actually do their homework and then getting blown out of the water by little Cameron who popped the prompt into an LLM and 45 seconds later is back to playing Overwatch. And again, that's going to be the reality, because ChatGPT's output just is better than anything one can reasonably expect a young writer to produce.

In many ways, large language models are like any mechanism of mass production. They displace older artisans, not because their product is better -- it isn't, it's objectively worse -- but on sheer volume and accessibility. The art is worse, but it's available to the masses on the cheap.

And like with mass production, this isn't necessarily a bad thing even though it's disruptive. It's fine that many people now can, in effect, be "okay writers" essentially for free. It's like mass-produced clothing -- yes, most people's t-shirts are of lower-quality than a bespoke Italian suit, but that's okay because now most people can afford a bunch of t-shirts that are of acceptable quality (albeit far less good than a bespoke Italian suit). The alternative was never "everyone gets an entire wardrobe of bespoke Italian suits", it was "a couple of people enjoy the benefits of intense luxury and most people get scraps." Likewise, I'm not so naive as to think that most people in absence of ChatGPT would have become great writers. So this is a net benefit -- it brings acceptable-level writing to the masses.

If that was all that happened -- the big middle gets expanded access to cheap, okay writing, with "artisanal" great writing remaining costly and being reserved for the "elite" -- it might not be that bad. But the question is whether this process will inevitably short-circuit the development of great writers. You have to pass through a long period of being a crummy writer before you become a good or great writer. Who is still going to do that when adequacy is so easily at hand?

I'm not tempted to use ChatGPT because even though my writing takes longer, I'm confident that at the end my work product will be better. But that's only true because I spent a long time writing terribly. Luckily for me, I didn't have an alternative. Kids these days? They absolutely have an alternative. It's going to be very hard to get them to pass that up.

via The Debate Link https://ift.tt/zlrha2Q

#artificial intelligence #writing

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randomfoggytiger · 8 months

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X-Files Collector's Edition: S8 Mulder Resurrects to a Miracle

Thanks for @goodshipsmulder for the suggestion~.

Mulder finds out about Scully's pregnancy off-screen between Deadalive and Three Words. What was said? How might that have gone down? These ideas are explored in these fics (and a few extras thrown in because.)

Loose chronological order below~

@agentwhalesong/sadandangstyagent’s (Ao3) Could It Be Any Harder? - Chapter 4

""He doesn’t seem to understand anything, so he just stays there, accepting the love that is pouring out of her.""

Post Deadalive Mulder's groggy questions aren't able to be fully answered before he drifts back to sleep.

Agent L's (mulderscreek)

Duet

""Scully...?"

"Yes, Mulder?"

"Will I be able to play the piano again?"

"Well, Mulder, I...You don't play piano.""

Post Deadalive Mulder hasn't felt the effects of PTSD yet, cracking jokes and willingly reaching to feel his child move.

Wish List

""I want my life back. Sounds selfish for a guy just raised from the dead, I know, but I've never been one to be satisfied with the status quo.""

Post Deadalive Mulder's impatience-- itching to leave and itching for answers-- is soothed by the balm of Scully's presence.

@lyndsaybones’s (Ao3) Oh

""Like a breath. Like a secret wound opening up. He pulls his hand away.""

Post Deadalive Mulder responds to Scully's announcement with an "Oh."

@leiascully's (Ao3) Part of Us (Tumblr)

""He raises her hand to his lips. It’s an effort, but he manages. “I’m here and I’m staying,” he tells her. “What happened while I was gone?""

Post Deadalive Mulder responds to Scully's announcement with an "Oh", take two.

@msrafterdark (Ao3)

Five Sentence Fics (Tumblr Prompt) - Chapter 2

""She was mute for a moment, and while he easily recognized the softness in her eyes, he also noted a slight glimmer of impatience, as though she was insulted by his not believing this miracle belonged to him.""

Post Deadalive Mulder is shocked with the baby's paternity confirmation.

XScribe/Red's (Gossamer, spookyawards_archivist) Alive

""He looked up, confusion and yet a sense of incredible wonderment lighting up his beautiful hazel eyes. He looked at her and she didn't say a word. He shook his head, looked away, looked back at her again. She smiled, and a hot tear fell down her cheek before she could stop it. He reached out and caught it with a finger.

"Scully?" His voice was small, almost boylike, fearful yet hopeful.""

Post Deadalive Mulder wakes, surprised and grateful Scully didn't leave. Both of them tear up at her paternity confirmation.

ScullyLikesScience's He is the Master of His Fate, She is the Captain of Her Soul - Chapter 85

""They stared at each other. Mulder counted backwards in his head. Scully hoped for some kind of positive reaction. They were still silently gazing at one another when the door opened, and Mulder’s physician, Dr. Nelson Lim, entered the room to go over some test results.""

The events of Deadalive unfold, which eventually leads to Mulder waking a second time to a whirlwind of confusion... and it all becomes too much.

@scullys-right-eyebrow-txf/ScullysRightEyebrow's The Only Choice - Chapter 40

""Just as a soft smile appeared on his face, Mulder recognized apprehension in her eyes. His brow furrowed in concern and then he took in her appearance. In that moment every thought in his mind melded into a mass of bewilderment and confusion. He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand anything and the fear brought about by his nightmare seemed to crash down on him.""

Post Deadalive Skinner lets the news slip to Mulder; and his death and resurrection and Scully's sudden pregnancy catapult Mulder's PTSD, beginning the cycle of distancing himself.

@alldolleduppink-blog/AllDolledUpPink's Reditum

""I ran every test," she assures him. "I know it's hard to believe, but you are-"

"No," he interrupts her with a shake of his head. "No, I didn't- I wasn't implying that it's not mine. I- why did I leave?""

Post Deadalive Mulder has an immediate and severe PTSD-induced panic attack at the news of his baby; and begins to distance himself from Scully and their child-- terrified he will hurt them both.

Shoshana's

Skin Deep

""Is this real?' Mulder had asked, not certain what to say. Her affirmative response brought a grin to his ashen face, a sparkle to his tired eyes.""

Post Deadalive Mulder is happy about his baby, more worried about what Scully thinks about his scars than her miraculous pregnancy.

After Dinner

""Her unworried countenance told him all he needed to know, all he cared to know at the time.

He'd had worries later, when left alone with his thoughts....

When he was feeling particularly morose one night he imagined she wouldn't need his help at all with the child. That she was humoring him now while he was ill and would be ready to move on once he'd recovered.""

Three Words Mulder and Scully are okay after TLG leave her apartment; and he muses over his worries as they banter their way back to a reestablished relationship.

emmbright/Emma Brightman's (LiveJournal) Low Tide

"""You're really here." She walks toward him, carefully lowering her bulk into the chair and grasping his gray-skinned hand in hers. Her voice holds a note of wonder he's rarely heard before. Invisible men, visions in Buddhist temples, resurrected lovers -- Scully's a tough one to impress.""

Post Deadalive Mulder wakes from a fruitless nightmare of his sister, wanting no visitors but Scully as he plunges back into more.

dee_ayy's Burdened

""It had to be a lie, I decided once they'd left in search of help. A cruel joke.... Maybe Scully hadn't been lying, I had been in a coma, and this woman saying "dead and buried" was some sort of euphemism I wasn't familiar with. It couldn't be literally true, I decided. It just couldn't. It was the only rational explanation that would allow this threat to pass.

And I'd almost managed to convince myself by the time Scully came back.""

Post Deadalive Mulder overhears nurses talking about his resurrection; and the stress of that lie and Scully's pregnancy paralyzes him into numbness... until he sees his apartment.

Erin Blair/Erin M. Blair's Mine

""You know?"

I nodded, looking at her round belly. "I'm very observant, Scully.""

Post Deadalive Mulder tells Scully about the boy in his Amor Fati dream.

greycoupon’s (Ao3, WBM) Baring Fruit

""He was focused on Scully’s face and her hand in his, but not the rest of her. She was just another body in the room. Then one of the nurses asked her to move so they could check his blood pressure and she stood up. He saw all of her.

He saw her very pregnant stomach. For just a minute he couldn’t see or hear and worried he was back on the ship, that this was all a dream.""

Post Deadalive Mulder's eyes adjust enough to notice the obvious; and Scully lays his immediate fears to rest.

ML/ML_is_me’s (Ao3, Gossamer, DW, Invidiosa)

Do You Know?

""Come on, Scully, give me a break. Don't keep me in suspense," I rasp. You're smiling a little more broadly now.

"Well, you asked for it," you tell me, and push away from the bed to stand up awkwardly.""

Post Deadalive Mulder hates that he kept his brain disease a secret; but is so happy when Scully tells him about their baby.

Found Faith and Lost Time

""She's carrying a cardboard box in front of her, perhaps hoping to obscure her burgeoning belly for a few moments longer.

I give her a big smile as she catches my eye. "Hi, Mom," I greet her.

She looks a little crestfallen. "You KNOW? Did you know last night?" she asks me.""

Post Deadalive Skinner keeps vigil by goofily happy Mulder's bedside-- who peeked at Scully before anyone knew he was awake and is endlessly pleased with himself about it.

David Hearne's Hail, Hail, the Gang's All Here

""So, Mulder," Langly interrupted. "this is...what?...your third resurrection?"

"Actually, it's my second. Technically."

"Whatever," Frohike said.""

A post Deadalive crackish experience-- TLG and Maggie and Skinner descend upon Mulder and Scully before they can thoroughly talk about their baby, having a grand time and letting him tell off Krycek on the phone.

Donna’s (Gossamer, mulderscreek) Meeting the Other Man

""His lips moved, but no sound emerged. His eyes returned to her stomach. Her hand came up and smoothed the fabric of her maternity top.

"It's not very subtle is it?""

AU-- Post Deadalive Doggett gets Scully to rest and meets Mulder in the hospital. Jealousy is soothed; and Mulder is overjoyed at the baby news.

Far Away, So Close

""The morning after his revival, Mulder woke up not long after Scully. He looked up at her as she stood and stretched by his bedside. He focused first on her face and then drifted lower. Scully could practically see his pupils dilate as they rested on her belly. He said nothing, however, and then the doctors came in, and the poking and prodding and questions began again.""

Three Words Mulder doesn't feel like a hero-- only a very distantly confused left behind. Scully finally tells him about the paternity later.

@admiralty-xfd’s (Ao3) Culmination - Chapter 12

""They stay together like that for a long time, holding each other. Eventually she gets up to check his vitals and the sight of her enormous pregnant belly hits him like a ton of bricks.

How…?

...The machines are going wild and Scully looks panicked. “Mulder?! What’s wrong?” The last thing he sees is her screaming for assistance and a team rushing in to help as the darkness takes him.""

Post Deadalive Mulder is afraid it's all a dream, that his brain disease will kill him, and that the baby isn't his.

theficisoutthere/pen-paper-aliens/PPA 's

post-"deadalive" I NEED to…

""His thoughts were interrupted by a soft twitch near his thigh. It was an odd twitch, more forceful than a shiver, but softer than a hit. Something was kicking against him.""

Mulder's reestablishing relationship is put on pause when he misconstrues Scully's pregnancy as replacement.

44. Puh-lease! ❤️ (Tumblr)

""He didn’t even question her fidelity. As soon as he noticed her bump in the hospital room he softly smiled and said, “So, we’re going to have a baby.” and squeezed her hand when she nodded. He turned his gaze back to the TV above them and the subject was never brought up again.""

Three Words Mulder hasn't mentioned the baby since the hospital until, finally, he and Scully open up about their fears and pain, crying it out together.

Marguerite’s (Ao3) Always Through the Changing

""Mulder's eyes were huge, with an odd shimmer, but he said nothing as he took the offered sip of water. He kept the cool liquid in his mouth for a moment as if savoring a fine wine. When he swallowed, it was the only sound in the room....

"Whoa, Scully. You been eating all my jello?""

Post Deadalive Mulder struggles with jealousy and anger-guilt-depression about Scully's baby as well as Skinner and Doggett's capable and active presence in his absence.

Lapsed_Scholar’s That Day Is Done

""Most people have nine months to come to terms with their impending parenthood, but he already has something of an unusual situation, and he really wishes he had not started the clock missing and dead. How is he supposed to prepare for this? How is he supposed to support her, or care for an entirely new, helpless person when he’s lost the ability to function as himself?""

Mulder, Scully, and Skinner navigate the rough waters of This Is Not Happening, Deadalive, and Three Words.

Diana Alexander’s Distant and Strange

""If he had been told eight years ago that he would be as protective and possessive as he was of her now, he would have thought the idea insane and preposterous besides. Somehow over the years, it had slowly started happening, so that now he couldn't imagine being any other way in regards to her.

At about that time, he was startled out of his own thoughts by a gentle knock on the door before it was pushed open by an extremely pregnant Dana Scully.""

Post Three Words Mulder has false memories of Scully and their baby, struggling to know what was and wasn't real.

@greekowl87’s (Ao3) Fic: Right Where You Belong (Ao3)

""Ever since he woke up in the hospital from his abduction, Mulder stared at the world through a looking glass. He recognized people, places, things, but inevitably, it wasn’t the same thing that he had left months before. So Scully was patient. She visited him every day, brought him new clothes, sneaked in his favorite food so he didn’t have to eat the bland hospital food, and anything to get him to respond to her. Mulder would just smile politely, maybe glance briefly her pregnant abdomen and turn away before she could get a word in.""

Three Words Scully grounds Mulder in reality.

@ghostbustermelanieking/skuls's

ashes and dust

""It takes effort, but he does move, sliding to the other side. The corners of Scully's mouth lifts, just a little, and she stands to climb in behind him. And that's when he sees it: the curve of her belly under her sweater.

Anything he wanted to say catches in his throat, freezes there. She is pregnant.""

Post Deadalive Mulder wakes, shocked at Scully's baby. Life moves too quickly for him to process, let alone sink back into. Fortunately, he and Scully are able to iron out the kinks later.

Unnamed (Alt. Tumblr)

""She tries to tell him early the morning after their reunion, but she can tell he’s already noticed. He’s quieter, won’t meet her eyes. “Mulder, I got my miracle,” she tries, immediately regretting the singular pronoun. She slips her fingers through his, and lifts his heavy hand to press against her abdomen.

“I’m happy for you,” he says, almost devoid of any emotion, and that’s when she feels like she’s lost him again.""

AU-- Scully moved into Mulder's apartment after his death; and can't figure out a way to tell him after he's resurrected.

And Extra Fics I Thought Belonged Here

@settle-down-frohike's (Ao3) Sensory Integration (Tumblr)

""He’s grateful for her restraint, because he can’t handle sudden movements right now. If she were to approach too fast in his direction, he’d end up curled in the fetal position somewhere in a corner, protecting his vital organs. He doesn’t know how he knows this, he just does. He’s like one giant Pavlovian experiment.

Stimulus.

Response.

Repeat.""

Mulder's PTSD starts to ramp up throughout Three Words; but Scully is, as always, there to be his constant in an upside down world.

soverysesual's Kleptomania - Chapter 1

""Uh, Scully, where are all my clothes?”

She could feel her cheeks burn as she realized that she had never brought them back from her apartment.""

Three Words Mulder and Scully have to retrieve some of his things from her apartment; and he is touched she found and utilized his former IVF baby stash.

Michelle Kiefer's Second Wind

""I wonder if Lazarus found reanimation a chilling experience. Did he shiver and pull his burial shroud closer around him? Was he chilled to the core despite Judah's hot sun? Unfortunately, I have no one with whom to compare notes, as old Lazarus is no longer among the living.

Besides, Lazarus was in the tomb, for what-four days? I could do four days standing on my head. Try three months, buddy, and we'll talk.""

Mulder feels the coldness of death always lingering; but finally finds a personalized heater (and pillar of strength) in Scully.

@amplifyme/wonderland/Lydia Bower's Light Don't Sleep

""Ah, Scully," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "We got our miracle, didn't we?"

Her breath caught and she faltered as the tears fell. "Yes... yes, we did."

Mulder and Scully slot themselves back together as he sorts through what are and aren't his true memories, one loving interaction at a time. And, of course, every good day must end with a bedtime story.

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

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kerwynlar · 8 months

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✨This post is from a belly kink blog. If that’s not your thing please keep scrolling.✨

I was having Good Omens thoughts inspired by the ox scene. So I turned to ao3 and was not disappointed. Among other good stuff there was this fic.

And now I’m obsessed with the idea of Crowley turning into a snake and cuddling Aziraphale’s overfull belly. So…

Aziraphale leaned back in his seat, hands roaming his distended belly. He had unbuttoned his waistcoat some time ago and had miracled his shirt to stretch. But even with the addition of supernatural elasticity, it was pulling tight across his middle.

“Oh my.” Aziraphale’s voice was breathy, with a hint of the groan he was holding back. His stomach gave an unpleasant gurgle and he hiccuped. “Excuse me. I do believe I’ve eaten a bit too much.” Fortunately he knew just what would help him feel better.

Aziraphale looked up at where Crowley was sitting nearby, wine glass dangling from his long fingers and a laconic smile on his lips. Crowley’s sunglasses had been set aside hours ago and his yellow eyes were fixed on Aziraphale’s belly.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said, drawing the demon’s attention up to his face, “would you do the thing?”

Crowley’s smile widened. “What thing, angel?”

Oh, he was playing dumb? Well, Aziraphale knew how to handle that too. He put on his sweetest pout and arched his back a little, pushing his rounded belly out. “You know,” he said with just a hint of a whine in his voice. “Help my tummy. It’s your fault I’m so very full.”

“My fault, eh?” Crowley stood, all serpentine grace, and sauntered over to join Aziraphale on the sofa.

“Yes,” Aziraphale pouted. “You tempted me.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that, angel.” Crowley placed his hand on Aziraphale’s swollen belly. “I think mossst of thisss was all you.”

Aziraphale managed to keep his smirk internal: the sibilance in Crowley’s voice indicated that he was about to get what he wanted.

Crowley began rubbing Aziraphale’s belly and it felt absolutely lovely.

“You’re ssssssso warm,” Crowley breathed.

Aziraphale luxuriated in the feeling of Crowley’s hands soothing the tightness and grumbling of his stomach for a few minutes, then ran his hand up Crowley’s arm.

“Wouldn’t you like to get closer, dear?” he asked quietly.

“Yesssss.” Crowley was already morphing: skin darkening to black scales, arms and legs disappearing into his sides. Aziraphale quickly unbuttoned and opened his shirt, baring the taut skin.

And then a three-foot-long python was slithering up his side and onto his belly. The snake’s cool body encircled the rounded mass, and his movement and weight worked as an incredibly effective belly rub.

Aziraphale belched and excused himself, then let his head fall back as he enjoyed the feeling of Crowley on his belly. The massage of Crowley’s movements, the weight of the enormous amount of food inside him, the wine he had consumed (not nearly as much as Crowley, he’d been too busy eating, but it was having an effect all the same), all combined to lull him into a stupor. He belched again, and the tightness in his belly was noticeably reduced. Aziraphale groaned in pleasure and relief. “Thank you, my dear boy,” he mumbled sleepily.

The snake stilled, but remained curled on his belly and Aziraphale stroked the smooth scales of his head for a few minutes before reaching over to pull a throw blanket over them both. He encircled Crowley in his arms and fell asleep.

#good omens #aziracrow #belly kink #belly rubs #sort of #snake variety #snake crowley #aziraphale #crowley #stuffing #kerwyn's writing #might add to this and put it on ao3

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ageless-aislynn · 1 year

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My frens! If you know your Mass Effect: Andromeda, then you’ll know what this GIF means.

I finished the game! 🤗🥳🎉✨

Some important things of note: (SPOILERS, if anybody cares about a 6 year old game 😉)

I ended up taking 120 hours but, let me tell you, that was with me playing as thoroughly as possible. I did every single task, even the ones where you had to find randomly spawning things like datapads. 😐 Fortunately, thanks to some helpful people on Youtube, I learned that several of those tasks could be sped up by controlling load zones (so you find a datapad or whatever, drive away, drive back and voila, hopefully a new one has spawned in! Sometimes you had to actually fast travel or leave the planet and return to get a new spawn, other times that would totally bork things. It was a process of discovery, lol).

I’m not going to play it through like that again, even when I start over as Scott, but it was fun to take the time to really explore on my first “visit” to the world of Andromeda!

Fina-frickin’-ly, lol! The big guy played it close to the vest for a lot longer than I was expecting but, well, our love is now true, official and documented! Something I thought was really hysterical, though? Even after you’ve committed to Jaal, which eliminates the option to flirt with anybody else, I STILL had the flirt option for Drack! So, of course, I had to go ahead and take it, Jaal would just have to understand that Drack is an unstoppable Krogan love machine that NO ONE can resist. 😇😛😉 It was all good, though; Drack let me down easy and Jaal never mentioned it.

Though I did wait until Jaal wasn’t, you know, standing right there. Because I have manners and stuff. *nodnods* 😉

(NOTE: This is a screencap, not a GIF, just so you don’t wonder why it’s not loading, lol) I was SUPER DUPER SAD to learn that I can’t get this look for Scott on his own playthrough. The default face can’t be customized. 😥 ZOMG, I WANT THIS SCRUFFY BEARD LOOK SO VERY MUCH. 😥 I miiiiight see about customizing one of the other faces to look as much like the default face as possible if you can have a scruffy beard. If not, then clean-shaven it will be. *HEAVY SIGH* 😛😉

And speaking of Scott, this actually managed to be something I didn’t know was coming: (SO I’LL MARK THIS WITH ITS OWN SPOILER WARNING, JUST IN CASE) I thought he’d probably wake from his coma by the end of the game but I was FLOORED when I was suddenly playing as Scott and he had a pivotal role in the final fight! 👀 It hit me as hard as an invisible drink, I tell you!

Hee, for some reason, her drink glasses would randomly not appear several times throughout the game, I dunno why. But that’s not as bad as the glitch that I got thankfully only once where THE GROUND did not spawn in and so she got stuck in a cycle of falling to her death, restarting, falling to her death, restarting, falling, restarting, etc. etc. 😱😱😱 That sucked rocks through a straw big time! 😡

I still kinda laugh at the fact that, because I missed that you can customize your brother or sister, I ended up with customized Sara and default Scott as twins, lol! On Scott’s playthrough, I’m going to customize Sara to look like this Sara, though, just ‘cause. 😎 Also, I find it interesting that their dad Alec changes to match your main character, so if I use default Scott, I’ll have default Alec where as Sara’s Alec matched her look instead, lol. Oh well, clearly Original Pathfinder Ryder™ was a man of many talents! 😛

A few other fun things...

This is how Peebee showed up when I changed my loadout, lol. You can see Vetra is following me because she’s my Best Girl™ but Peebs (I love it when she starts signing her emails like that 😉) is just hanging out up there! I finally had to get in the NOMAD and then back out again to get her boots on the ground!

Sara has a radio-like music player at her bedside in the Pathfinder’s quarters and it has my friend THE DANCE PROMPT, YES! (You can’t see it here because I had to shorten the GIF for size limitations. 😕😉) Sara is also modeling both her casual and her sport’s casual looks for y’all as she breaks out her best moves! 😎👍😉

Next, because I’m sure the entire Internet is dying of anticipation to know my next move... 😛😉

Since I’ve learned of my other friend, Manual Save, I kept some points so I can go back and...

...take Peebee up on her friends-with-benefits offer. And back up a bit farther to do the same for Liam after Sara helps him move the couch. 😛

Here’s Liam and Jaal giving Sara both Thoughts™ (’cause, hey, she’s been in cryosleep for 600 years and a girl’s got neeeeeeeds, ya know!) and Anxiety™ (’cause she’s the leader of this crew and, fellas, ZOMG, this is Not Professional®) 😂

However, the next full romance I want to do (and am going to back up alllll of the way to when Sara gets the Tempest or thereabouts so I don’t miss anything) is going to be...

...Vetra, my love. I just freakin’ adore her, what can I say? She was my constant through all of the missions, it was always me, Vetra and somebody else. She’s a total badass but also endearingly a little insecure and with a literal spiky exterior that covers a sweet, caring heart. Nothing but the best full-on romance for my Turian sweetheart! *fist thump* (Can you guess who I already know my fem!Shep will be romancing in the ME trilogy? Three guesses and they’re all spelled Garrus Vakarian... 😂😉)

I still would like to romance Suvi but I get the feeling she’s going to take more work like Jaal did because her flirt options dropped almost immediately as soon as I stopped selecting them. Peebee and Liam, for example, offered flirt options right up until my romance with Jaal locked in, even though I hadn’t selected one for a while. So there’s that to consider.

For Scott, he’ll definitely be romancing Avela because, as we all may recall...

Also, it’s a short-lived romance so he can probably find time to also romance somebody else in that one playthrough, if I’m feeling it. (I honestly was surprised at how much I ended up loving Gil, so maybe we’ll give that a try, either here or elsewhere?)

But, of course, the full-on romance for Scott is going to be...

Cora. I legit went *SQUEE* out loud when she kept asking about or mentioning Scott to Sara. *furiously waves Scott/Cora shipper flag* It made me feel kinda like she might’ve had a wee little bit of a crush on her Pathfinder’s son (when Alec was her Pathfinder, of course) but she was keeping it professional and all that. I dunno, that might just be me and those darn shipper glasses that tend to fly out of nowhere and land on my face all the time...

LOL!

Also, somebody at some point will be romancing Reyes because, and please pardon my language, but he’s the epitome of a sexy mofo. 😳😛😂

You also get a glimpse that there’s more to him than meets the eye. The only thing I was disappointed in was that, while I intended to choose him over Sloane, I REALLY disliked that the only way to do that was to promise Sloane you’d have her back and would keep things fair... then you let Reyes assassinate her via a sniper shot. But if you save her, you’re choosing her to “rule” Kadara instead of Reyes. *frustrated sigh* I let her get assassinated but I felt bad about it. Not about my choice but just at how it came about. (Cora also called me out on that later, to not forget that he’d had an unarmed woman killed after promising her a fair fight... 😬😥)

In conclusion of my long-winded rambling, I loved this game a LOT. Was it perfect? Was the animation sometimes WAY WONKY? No and yes. But I was here for the chance for some romance and RPG along with my combat and I really enjoyed that aspect a bunch! I’m sorry that they won’t be continuing Andromeda’s story because I would’ve liked to see more of the Tempest and her crew. As it is, though, I’ll just be content believing they’re out there saving the universe and having more adventures!

I’ll eventually be moving to the OG trilogy and I’m definitely looking forward to that! But for now, thank you, Mass Effect: Andromeda, for 120 hours of fun game time and here’s to many more!

#mass effect: andromeda #mass effect andromeda #sara ryder #sara ryder x jaal ama darav #scott ryder #pathfinder #vetra nyx #sara ryder x vetra nyx #cora harper #scott ryder x cora harper #this is my game tag #mass effect andromeda update of updateyness #long post is long #i have many thoughts™#😉#ageless aislynn

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dragonflight203 · 2 months

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Mass Effect 2 replay, Zaeed’s loyalty mission:

-Now’s a good time to contrast Kasumi and Zaeed.

They’re both DLC companions. Kasumi is paragon aligned, Zaeed is renegade aligned.

This is reflected in their loyalty missions – Kasumi’s is to infiltrate the scum of humanity to retrieve the memento of her murdered lover.

Zaeed sets fire to a refinery full of innocent people he was hired to save so he can pursue revenge.

-What’s most notable here is Bioware breaking from the dichotomy of male paragon/female renegade that they’ve had with prior pairs of human companions.*

As others may have raised, it’s possible that with the prior human companions the assumption was women were more likely play paragon, so their love interest (Kaidan, Jacob) should be paragon as well.

Men were assumed more likely to play renegade, so they’re love interests should correspondingly be renegade (Ashley, Miranda). Jack can also be thrown in here, although she’s not paired with another male human.

Since neither Kasumi nor Zaeed are love interests, they’re not obligated to follow the established pattern.

*I’m not including Liara, Garrus, or Thane in this discussion as they’re non-human. However, it would be interesting to dive into more detail about how mshep in ME1 has a paragon and renegade love interest, but femshep only has paragon love interests.

-Ah, the joys of planet scanning in ME2. It makes me wish I played on PC so I could install the mode that retrieves all minerals with one probe.

-Blue Suns are essentially the de facto government of Zorya as well.

Between this and Omega, I take it they’re a mercenary group aspiring to go into politics.

-Zorya looks like your average forest.

While I love that the quests in ME2 have unique environments, I mourn how all the worlds are very Earth like.

ME1 had many unique, alien settings. ME2 settings typically look like they could take place somewhere on Earth.

-Aaand it has pyjacks. I think by the end of ME2 they can be considered as invasive a species as tribbles.

Also, pyjacks are definitely what the food stall on Omega was selling. But how did it find pyjacks so big? Many were human sized; the in game model is a small monkey.

-It’s obvious the loyalty missions were not designed with a second companion in mind. In some the second companion has only one or two lines, in others none.

I took Garrus with me the first time I did Zaeed’s loyalty mission. Do you really think Garrus would remain silent as Zaeed talks about being betrayed by his men? Or that Mordin would be chill with leaving the refinery works to burn to death?

I wonder if at one point the assumption was the loyalty missions would only be you and the squad member, but later in development they let you take another companion to keep the fights more manageable.

-As numerous others have said, Zaeed and another human starting a galactic wide mercenary group twenty years ago, less than a decade after first contact, is ridiculous.

For the sake of my sanity, I will treat this like humans creating medi-gel. Zaeed and Vido started a chapter of the Blue Suns together. Maybe the first human chapter, and that’s why it’s so notable.

(I also have issues with the fact that all three notable mercenary groups in ME2 and ME3 were started quite recently in the Mass Effect timeline, but we’ll come back to that when we get all the codex entries for them.)

-Once again batarians are all villainized as evil. Vido hired them because they were cheaper; Zaeed called them terrorists.

I wouldn’t mind this treatment of batarians so much if the game ever played with it. Yes, treat a group as one dimensional at first, then later on show how they’re three dimensional. Make the protagonist face their own prejudices and move past them.

Or in a game like Mass Effect, fail to do so – and make that have consequences.

Neither happens, other than a possible minor loss of war assets in ME3.

As others have said, given the huge roster in ME2 the lack of a batarian party member is a missed opportunity.

-When confronting Vido, the framing of how Zaeed looks at the gas valve is similar to how the game frames an object just before giving you a paragon/renegade interrupt for it.

And just like you can when given the option, Zaeed takes a strong renegade interrupt.

-There’s another line of auto dialogue from Shepard when Zaeed blows open the gate.

-As others have noted, this mission is similar to the mission Anderson and Saren went on when Anderson was considered as a spectre.

Do you blow up a refinery and let innocent people die for your own gain or not?

You have the option to tellAnderson that you would in Mass Effect 1. He says that you would have a good reason to do so. If he learned that you let these refinery workers die to gain Zaeed’s loyalty, would he consider that a good reason?

-Since I’m not interested in listening people burn to death – done that once before to see the alternative mission path, not interested in repeating it – save the workers it is.

Honestly, the most baffling part if Shepard chooses this route is that they let Zaeed come with them. Considering how driven by revenge and ruthless he is, why is Shepard willing to trust him? How do they know Zaeed won’t put a bullet in their back so he can chase after Vido?

You should have an option to send him away like you do Liara on Noveria. Could be an autofail – if a paragon/renegade check fails, Zaeed tries to kill you and you’re forced to kill him.

-There’s no combat as you move through the burning refinery. No surprise; the mercenaries don’t want to burn either.

-That battle at the end is always difficult. Almost made it through with a few charges on my first try, then died to the mech.

Finally made it through, surprise surprise, by playing as a cover shooter.

-Neither of the paragon options with Zaeed at the end are compelling in my opinion. Obviously I went upper left to gain his loyalty, but the game doesn’t sell me on it.

Go upper right, you tell him you’re too much of a badass for him to kill in your sleep. You don’t gain his loyalty, but you do get grudging respect.

Go upper left, you threaten with a gun and tell him he’s part of a team.

The best is neutral, where you tell him he’s crazy but you need crazy for your current mission. I still don’t like it, but it feels more genuine than the others.

Normandy – Shepard’s Inbox

-Email from Talitha, the formerly enslaved colonist you talk down if you have the Midnoir background – One of her doctors works with Ceberus (because of course Cerberus has people everywhere) and that’s how she gets you the message.

The end is such emotional blackmail I question if TIM faked it:

The doctors say that other people are getting taken like I was. I hope you can help them like you helped me.

If it’s genuine it’s very sweet. If it’s not, I want to shoot TIM again.

-There’s also an email from Sha’ira the Consort which feels a little too on point:

When you fought Saren, only your resolve was tested, but now I fear you cannot rely only on your own strength. Take whatever steps you must to ensure that those battling at your side fight with clear minds and glad hearts.

Points to the game for encouraging you to complete the loyalty missions for the good ending. Points to Sha’ira for being more helpful than she was in ME1.

I’m docking points from the writers for not working that in more naturally.

-Dr. Michel wrote the winning email today, where she very blatantly is writing you because she’s hoping you can get her in touch with Garrus.

Girl has a massive crush on him for saving her, and he’s completely oblivious even after she gives him turian chocolates in M3.

#mass effect #mass effect 2 #mass effect 2 replay

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osric-giroux-ffxiv · 4 months

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Dusk Vigil - Finale

Consciousness returned in waves.

The first thing he noticed was the warmth of his surroundings and the comfort of the surface he was laying on - it lacked the cold bite of the Vigil, and the unforgiving nature of the stone he remembered his knees hitting before everything went black.

It took several moments for him to open his eyes - whatever medication had been used to sedate him had been incredibly effective and even as he managed to open his eyes, keeping them open for more than a moment at a time was proving to be a challenge.

Osric sighed, relaxing a bit as he recognized that he was no longer within the confines of the Dusk Vigil, but was in fact within the Cress Estate - the clinic? He assumed the clinic...

He turned his head, straining to listen, for any sounds…any indications of movement, and was met with silence - it seemed as though he was the room's only occupant for the time being.

A hand drifted to his side, the relief almost palpable as he found the wound he’d recalled being there during his last conscious moments having been taken care of and he was no longer sporting what remained of his broken weapon. He shifted the arm up and across his eyes, and was just starting to drift back into sleep once again when a knock from nearby drew his attention.

The arm was lifted and he cracked an eye open - what time it was, hell, what day it was he was completely oblivious to. How long he’d been out was a complete mystery to him.

Peeking his head around the corner, looking for someone cautiously was Colson, a stack of papers in his hand. “Oh, good you’re awake - thought that blonde doctor of ya’lls was gonna run me off.”

“Colson?”

“Aye - ain’t been long enough for you to forget me, boss. We brought you in last night and that doctor lady was real quick about gettin’ that thing yanked up outta you.”

Osric ran a hand over his face, the ache in his side becoming much more pronounced for a moment. “Yes, well…thank you for that particular visual, Colson.”

The other Hyur nodded, oblivious to the dark-haired man’s discomfort, “You’re welcome - anyway, didn’t come to give you the play by play of your medical treatment. Couldn't tell you half of what she did anyhow.” He pulled a small stack of papers from his jacket and set it on the bedside table. “Those are the papers you handed off to me before you decided to charge headlong into a mass of people with nothin’ but an axe while bleedin’ from the side. Figured you might want some readin’ material while you’re recoverin’.”

“The thought is appreciated - but in the future? Perhaps a day or two to actually recover?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, memories of events beginning to filter back in. “What of the individual they were holding?”

“Being kept at the barracks at the moment - comfortably, got no reason to make him uncomfortable - until we can figure out who he is.”

Osric nodded, as best he could against the bedding, “I’ll speak to him once I’m up…or perhaps after a few days after I'm up. And maybe have him brought to the estate if it’s appropriate. In the meantime gather a handful of men, return to the Vigil and clean out whatever goods were there. I want them brought to the barracks for appraisal and I want the Vigil as empty as it was supposed to have been when we arrived.”

“Can do that.”

“Good. Inform me when it’s done.” Once the building was empty and back to its original state - then he could inform Gaspard Thierremont that the job was complete and the Highlands were safe for their traders once again…and the Temple Knights would owe House Cress a rather significant favor.

“I’ll leave you to your rest, boss.”

“...Thank you, Colson - and well done out there.”

The other man gave a little nod of his head with a grin before shifting back, “Hey - that’s what we’re trained for, yeah? Not too bad for a first run. Might make a name for ourselves after all before it’s all’s said n’ done.” With that he was back around the corner and gone, leaving Osric to his thoughts once again.

He reached for the paper on the top of the stack, exhaling slowly as he scanned the contents of the page - something he hadn’t had the time to do during the chaos of all the fighting.

“Just what in the world were you all up to, I wonder…”

If he could hold off that medicated sleep a bit longer...perhaps he could begin to find out.

Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3

#stories #blurbs #of lances and lament

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siryouarebeingmocked · 1 year

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LPer: I’m playing Marvel’s Midnight Suns, which has a customizable main character, like Mass Effect!

LPer: I’m going to refer to the male and female Hunter as “masculine build” and “feminine build” for no apparent reason!

Me:

For the record, I’ve seen no evidence that The Hunter does not identify as conventionally male or female. The game does awkwardly use “they” pronouns, but that’s presumably to save on voicework.

The LPer has been working with 2K to promote the game, and I think he may have misunderstood why Firaxis uses “they” for a character who can be a dude or a girl.

PS:So, the lead character has a witch aunt, known as The Caretaker (Sara), who raised the Hunter and trained him/her to fight demons (including their mom and Sara’s sister, the witch-turned demon Lilith), and watched over his/her body as it slept in a tomb for 3 centuries.

She bought the titual team together, owns their base, and has a very strong “crotchety grandma” vibe.

And, uh, take a look at her.

Spoilers:

Turns out she had a thing for Agatha Harkness, according to her journal entries.

And suddenly her character concept seems a lot more stereotypical.

Good job, Marvel, you did it again.

She is loosely based on an obscure canon 616 Ghost Rider supporting character with a very similar haircut, who looks very similar to the way Sara did when she was young. Marvel Wiki doesn’t have any relationships, or listed sexual preference, which means it’s either undisclosed, or straight.

So, yes, it’s plausible she could be gay in 616. But it also seems like Marvel could’ve found a lady with short hair and an appropriate name and went “y’know what...?”

#youtube #midnight suns #personal #marvel #diversity #xcom

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higher-further-faster-together · 1 month

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Let's talk about Mass Effect??? I miss it so much, I lost access to it when my subscription to Playstation Plus expired. 😭😭😭 I have a lot of other games to play, but I might buy it sometime for real when it's on the cheap, because I miss commander Shepard and her little band of rascals, I miss the excellent story-telling, the enormity of it all, the tragedy, the friendships, ...

Omg Bestie!! Yes let’s talk about mass effect!!! God I love it. I just bailed on ME3 to start back at 1 again bc I didn’t want it to end, so I’m going through it again. What’s your favourite class to play and who is your main romance? God I love mass effect I’m thinking of getting a mass effect tattoo

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a-shakespearean-in-paris · 8 months

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To 10 Games

Thanks so much for the tag @thevikingwoman! In no particular order and no particular criteria. Just games that have meant a lot to me for one reason or the other over the years.

tagging @wintersongstress @muses-circle @elveny @alyssalenko and anyone else. I have no clue who is here anymore, lol.

1. Resident Evil 4

Though I love the remake and plan on replaying it soon, the original has to be on this list for not only being nostalgic, but just for being a big staple of my time in high school. I played this game way after it released, but it was such a fun escape when I needed it. Ada and Leon were the first couple I really shipped and their dynamics still appear in my writing today, even subtly. honestly I think it's also fair to say Ada also taught me how to flirt. lol.

2. Kingdom Hearts.

This was the first game I played where the story impacted me enough for me to cry at the end. Yes it’s not exactly great and it’s very cheesy and weird, but I feel the need to include it because this was the game that made me realize how impactful the medium of games could be in terms of storytelling.

3. Dragon Age

I’m sure you knew this would be on here! I’ve spoken so much about it, but let it suffice to say it got me back into writing and now I’m a much better writer because of the things I’ve learned and developed along the way! Will give the edge to Inquisition over Origins on this one, but I feel like a lot of people don't know how much I replayed origins, and in fact played it all the way back when it first came out.

4. Tomb Raider Anniversary

Been thinking about these games a lot recently. I do love the remakes but I have to say I’m partial to this Lara, of Legend and Anniversary variety. She likes adventures and history and she explores and goes to cool locations, and at a time in my life where I was just starting to realize how much travel means to me, I got to vicariously travel. I also think these games are a good blend of puzzle, exploration, and action.

5. Red Dead Redemption 2

This was the game that solidified my feelings that story telling in games not only rivals that of other mediums, but sometimes can even overtake it. Playing RDR2 feels like reading a long epic novel where the characters become your best friends by the end.

6. Last of Us

It would feel weird not to have this game on here because I truly think it is one of the best games that has ever been made. I just like to pretend the sequel doesn’t exist. Cough.

7. Assassins Creed 2

I love so many of these games—odyssey is definitely up there as well but I have to give this one to 2. I played it when I was 16 after coming home from Europe for the first time and enjoyed the hell out of running around Florence after I had been there. I did also have fun playing odyssey again after being in Greece. Couldn’t find the place I jumped from in Paros I was so sad.

8. Okami

This game is very much pure nostalgia. beautiful cell shaded animation and compelling use of Japanese mythology.

9. Mass Effect 2

I don't quite love ME as much as Dragon age due to my own preference for fantasy/medieval, but I love 2 for where it took the story/characters. Overall, ME is one of the few, if only, pieces of SciFi media I like.

10. Witcher 3

If you put a gun to my head and told me to name what I thought the best video game ever released was, I'd say Witcher 3. I have fond memories of playing this game while eating pizza in college. I also just love the animations for this game. In a time of "realism is the way" in video games, to me it's the more animated style that is much more timeless. (this is another reason I like Baldur's Gate right now)

#games #tagged

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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everybodyshusband · 8 months

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feeeliiiiiiix, i’m rattling the bars of my cage once again because i see that prompt list, baby!! >:3c

hehehe, what about 37. and 42. with some zephyr/cowbell because YES. i’m still thinking about them thank you very much

you should always be thinking about them >:D consider this as a way to tide you over until i finish The zephbell piece for you :> the prompts were "kiss me" and "so excited already..." i hope i did your request justice, love !! (and since it's been... a while, in case you're a little confused, this is the prompt list that the ever-wonderful leaff is referring to <3) explicit. | cw: semi public sex, edging | they/them zephyr, it/its cock-wielding earth ghoul cowbell. 1.3k words

"Cowbell!" Zephyr huffs indignantly, although having known the air ghoul for what feels like aeons now, Cowbell is well aware that they're not upset by its actions, not properly, at least. "Can you not see I am in the middle of a task?"

"Don't care." It presses the words softly into their mind, praying that its thoughts wrap as deliciously around the air ghoul's brain stem as they always claim. "Kiss me," it urges, wrapping long, skeletal fingers in Zephyr's tunic and pulling them as close as possible; somehow, the air ghoul manages to keep their fingers on the correct notes of the keyboard. "I need it."

"Mine erthe, you must learn to hold patience. Allow me to complete the music first. Lead me not into your frightful temptation whilst I am busy, foul demon." The smirk that dances across the air ghoul's lips and the spark in their eyes proves to Cowbell that there is no real venom behind Zephyr's playful words. Well, no more than there usually is, anyway. They grace the earth ghoul with a quick peck on the lips before turning their attention back to the task at their hand.

Their fingers press on the keys of their beloved keyboard with an elegance they refuse to comprehend, no matter how many times Cowbell tells them. The earth ghoul rounds the keyboard, standing behind Zephyr to read their sheet music over their shoulder; some classical piece they're rehearsing for next week's Black Mass that Cowbell knows for a fact Zephyr already knows by heart. The notes are a mess of ink on paper to the earth ghoul, so it can't help but admire the way Zephyr is able to translate a language so indecipherable to Cowbell into the haunting melody currently ringing through the chapel.

(Perhaps that's part of the reason the air ghoul is so hesitant to begin anything... lascivious with Cowbell; they are in public after all, and a sacred place at that. But that's never stopped either of them before.)

Before Zephyr can even begin to predict what's happening, Cowbell is pressing its body against theirs, wrapping its arms tight around their shoulders, and kissing and nipping up and down the length of their throat.

The air ghoul sighs and continues playing, attuned enough to Cowbell's antics by now that they're able to carry on with their business despite its bothersome interruptions. Cowbell's glad of that. It makes teasing them all the more enjoyable. Means it has to work harder to gauge a proper reaction.

Means that when the desperation for Zephyr to engage in its little game gets to be too much, it can start working even harder. Can start grinding its hips against the air ghoul with uncoordinated jerky motions, moaning softly in their ear as pleasure quickly spreads through its vessel. Means that the most impressive reaction it is able to garner from the air ghoul in response to its tomfoolery is a hitched breath and the faltering of fingers against the keyboard.

Alas, it doesn’t take long for Zephyr to regain most of their composure and continue working the melodies of the piece with unrivalled skill, seeming to no longer be affected by their mate using their back to get itself off. Cowbell wishes its acts would have more of an effect on the air ghoul, but continues chasing its pleasure nevertheless; it isn’t going to let a little indifference get in the way of its end goal.

It doesn’t take long for the earth ghoul’s quick-thinking mind to begin to wander. Switching from wondering what will be served at tonight’s dinner, to how it might be able to work the air ghoul up until they're just as desperate as it is, to thoughts about Zephyr’s hands so impure that it is sure even Terzo would be astounded by the depravity of its mind. With the kind of thoughts racing through its head, it doesn’t take long for Cowbell to find itself chasing a rapidly approaching orgasm.

Zephyr must notice the change in pace of its rutting or the newfound desperation in its whines against their throat because Cowbell feels the muscles in Zephyr’s neck pull as they smirk at it and open their mouth to tease. "So excited already, my dear? If I did not know better, I would say you have already found yourself close to an edge... Is that true, darling?"

Cowbell breathes raggedly into the junction between Zephyr's neck and shoulder, nodding shakily and moaning at the embarrassment of how rapidly the drag of its clothed cock against the air ghoul's back is ricocheting it to the edge of orgasm. This isn’t the first time Cowbell has been this particular type of menace to Zephyr while they’ve attempted to fit some practice in around their busy schedule, but by the extent to which its own actions are affecting the earth ghoul, it might as well be.

There’s a tension building and spreading through its entire body as it creeps closer and closer to the edge, and Cowbell can’t help but start begging. “Zeph– My sky, please.”

“Please?” Zephyr inquires, tilting their head to the side in mock confusion. Cowbell tries to pretend that the extra sliver of skin the action exposes doesn’t drive it crazy with need. "What is it you are begging for, mine erthe?”

Cowbell grits its teeth as it does its best to hold off its impending orgasm for a few moments longer; it dreads to think of the punishment Zephyr will dream up if it fails to hold itself back from its own pleasure for even a moment. “Need to cum,” it whines into Zephyr’s head. “Wanna cum, sky. Please? Please let me? I– I gotta– Fuck, I can’t–”

“Can’t?” Zephyr asks sharply. “What can’t you do, erthe?” Cowbell is sure the only time the air ghoul ever uses contractions is when they’re mocking it. Honestly, it can’t complain; it enjoys the harshness behind their tone as they wrap their lips around words so foreign to their unique way of speaking.

It whines in response to Zephyr's words, continuing to rut against Zephyr’s back even as it teeters dangerously on the edge. “Can’t hold back, gonna cum. Wanna be good for you. Lemme cum, please let me cum, Zeph…” It is almost sobbing by now, pressing its words into Zephyr’s mind with just a hint of its own tear-streaked desperation, praying to whichever deity feels compelled to listen that the air ghoul will show it mercy before it’s too late.

As Cowbell speaks, Zephyr shifts forward, effectively stopping the earth ghoul from thrusting against their back any longer. It really does sob this time, hips still desperately rutting forward in the hope that the minute amounts of friction of pants against its cock will be enough to finally let it spill its pent-up release. Shamelessly, it starts begging again, tears obvious in its voice even as it speaks only in Zephyr’s mind.

Its desperate pleas are cut off as the air ghoul turns around on their stool and pulls Cowbell’s face down to meet theirs, catching it off guard with a bruising kiss. It’s intense, meant to claim, to own, and that’s all the permission Cowbell needs in order to tip over the edge with a scream that surely must echo around Zephyr’s skull enough to give them a headache.

The earth ghoul sobs with pleasure and relief as Zephyr continues to stake their claim against its lips, wrapping its arms around them to pull them as close and physically possible in the position they currently find themselves as it shudders helplessly through its orgasm.

Despite Cowbell’s whine of protest, Zephyr pulls back just enough for their lips to barely graze Cowbell’s own. “Good pet,” they whisper softly, immediately pulling the earth ghoul back in for another kiss.

Cowbell pretends their words don’t make its spent cock kick valiantly and instead allows itself to be guided by Zephyr, falling into the kiss with the hopes of being given the air ghoul an opportunity to feel just as good as it does now.

#ask box #husband loving his leafy #this didn't really end up fitting the “inexperienced” part of “inexperienced smut prompts” but i hope it's still okay !!!#cowbell ghoul #zephyr ghoul #nameless ghouls #the band ghost #husband ficlets

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seaphoam-writes · 4 months

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A Father's Duty (32/?)

A Father's Duty on AO3

Summary: An encounter with a quantum fissure leaves Picard with more responsibility than he asked for, but he'll do what he always does—his duty.

Chapter 32

Deanna’s empathic powers are technically passive—she can’t manipulate other people’s emotions, only sense them—but they are not without physical side effects. Excessive use can cause headaches, sometimes even fatigue, and there’s a constant risk of sheer overstimulation.

She hides this all to the extent that she’s capable of doing so. Will Riker is probably the only person aside from her mother who truly knows what her powers do to her. He seems to have a sixth sense about it, actually; he’s always aware of when she might be feeling too much or too strongly, and all it takes is a glance from him to remember herself, to dial her powers down or turn them off entirely.

In any case, Deanna usually keeps her mind closed to a certain degree in order to function. This way, she’s able to sense emotions but at a distance—just enough to perceive them but not enough for them to affect her.

The best way to describe it is like being enclosed in a tinted glass box: voices are muffled, expressions obscured.

But with Louis she opens her mind completely, unsure how deeply his feelings are buried.

When they walk into her office, he’s immediately wary, an almost caged-animal-like tension. Sometimes, when her mind is open and an emotion is particularly intense it will trigger other senses, and she’ll experience a smell or taste, see an image in her mind—occasionally have an actual physical sensation in her body. Now, Louis’s panic spikes and Deanna sees a brief flash of two faces: Louis wants his father, he wants Data—

Deanna gently lays her hand on Louis’s shoulder and is relieved when he doesn’t flinch or shrug her off. To her, that suggests his reaction is not a rection to her, but the setting.

“This is my office,” she says. “This is where people come when they need someone to listen to them or they want a safe place to express their emotions. It’s my job as ship’s counselor to care for the mental and emotional wellbeing of everyone on board.” She smiles then, and repeats it in simpler terms. “Dr. Crusher takes care of our bodies, and I take care of our minds.”

Now he’s confused, curious: why is he here?

“I thought you and I should talk. I sense that you’re struggling with some big, complicated feelings. I can help you make sense of these feelings.”

Doubt. A flare of wariness again. She suspects that someone from his past made a similar offer. Apparently, it didn’t work out very well.

Deanna turns so that they’re facing each other. “You know that I’m an empath, correct?” she asks.

“Oui—I mean, yes.”

(Don’t get her started on how cute his little French voice is.)

“Do you know what being an empath means?” she asks.

“It means you can tell what other people are feeling.”

“Exactly. For example, I can tell right now that you’re feeling nervous.”

He’s actually experiencing a shifting, snarled mass of emotions that he’s constantly trying to suppress—but it’s best to keep it simple, to pick a place to start ad go from there.

Louis frowns then, abruptly self-conscious of his nervousness, embarrassed by it.

“It’s okay to feel nervous,” Deanna assures him. “Everyone feels nervous sometimes.” She lowers her voice, and gives the room a long, scrutinizing glance. “Is this room making you nervous?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like to go somewhere else?” she whispers, pretending as if the room might be capable of hearing her.

Louis grins, his nervousness dropping away. “No, I’m okay.”

Deanna straightens and brightens her tone. “Why don’t we play some games while we talk? I find that it’s easier to talk sometimes if my hands are busy.”

“Ok.” And then, in a very child-like way that pleases her, “What games do you have?”

“Games may have been an exaggeration,” she admits. “I mostly just have puzzles. I was thinking we could try these.”

She shows him to the tangram puzzles she had selected beforehand and stacked on one end of the couch. He studies them with curiosity, and definite interest—he’s never seen them before, but they’re appealing. He wants to try them.

“Would you like to do one together? Or separately?”

“Can I do one on my own?”

A feeling of contentment and an image of lying on the floor with a sketchbook with Data in the background of the small space they’re sharing, then paralyzing uncertainty and a classroom of students working in groups that don’t seem to notice his existence.

“Of course,” Deanna replies. “Pick one, and I’ll pick after.”

Relieved, Louis selects a hexagonal puzzle. Deanna takes a rectangular one, then sits directly on the floor and puts her puzzle on the table. Louis copies her. He organizes his pieces on the table, sorting first by color before deciding to do it by shape instead.

“Is there only one right way?” he asks.

“No, there are multiple solutions. That’s one reason why I enjoy these.”

She waits until she senses that his mind is fully devoted to the puzzle before asking, “Is it okay if we talk? Or would you prefer to concentrate on your puzzle?”

Louis’s attention splits. He side-eyes her, wary again, but she keeps her own attention on her hands and eventually his guard lowers. She feels a tentative blossom of trust.

“We can talk,” he says.

It’s a delicate operation, a share and an invitation to share back, a broad question and then a gradual narrowing down to the information she really wants. She focuses mostly on the here and now, but when an avenue to the past opens up, she tests it—if she feels him tensing, which is often, she pulls back and changes topic.

While they talk, Deanna begins to detect a thread of fear that’s woven through the present but also tangled up in the past, and she decides to tug on that thread.

“Louis,” she says slowly, “I sense that you’re afraid of something, but trying very hard to ignore it.”

Something inside of Louis cracks open and the contents ooze out, something that prickles Deanna’s skin and turns her stomach.

“I’m afraid something is going to happen and I’ll have to leave again,” Louis confesses.

Deanna expected avoidance, withdrawal—not a complete and instantaneous unraveling, a sudden surge of emotions so powerful that she’s consumed by it, helpless to stop the onslaught of sensations and images.

The smell of smoke, tremendous heat, flashes of flickering orange light, pain in her head and side. Will Riker standing in a corridor—uniform singed, bloodstained—then he’s blurred by tears and there’s just the pain in her head and side.

A Borg cube on a viewscreen. Data’s hand guiding her through a chaotic press of bodies.

She’s watching through a shuttlecraft window as a space station slowly disappears into the distance, a ship disappears, a planet disappears, a ship explodes.

“I don’t want Starfleet to take me away.”

Men she doesn’t recognize, a captain with four pips on his collar and a doctor in blue, a gang of yellow shirts, blood in her mouth, throat hoarse from screaming, fists aching from banging them against something solid that refuses to break.

It’s an effort to find herself amidst the maelstrom, but when she does, when she’s able to grasp her own edges, discern the border between her and Louis, Deanna closes her mind, the mental equivalent of lowering a blast door.

The roar in her head silenced, Deanna takes a deep breath and regards Louis. Instinctively, she wants to protect him, to fix the problem so he won’t be sad or angry or scared anymore…

But that’s not her job. Her job is to validate his experience, to help him recognize his emotions and deal with them.

“It must be difficult to feel as if you’re safe here when you’re so used to being in danger all the time,” she tells him quietly.

After a moment, he murmurs, “I feel safe sometimes.”

Deanna opens her mind, just enough to let in—

the scent of earl grey, the taste of bread and butter and bitter orange, her face pressed to a scratchy uniform shirt and a hand cradling her head; red hair, a soft touch on her cheek; Will’s laugh reverberating in her chest; the precise shape and volume of the space that Data takes up in any setting, any situation.

—and then she closes it tightly once more.

Afterwards, she’s feeling worn out, hollow. It’s because of this, probably, that she’s so determinedly trying to coax out the details of Beverly and the captain’s evening together.

“So, what did you have for dessert last night?”

“Cranachan.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s Scottish.”

Beverly’s answers have so far been nondescript, which is objectively completely fair given that they’re in sickbay and Data and Geordi are standing only a few feet away.

“Describe it to me,” Deanna insists. She opened her mind again, committed to catching every warm, fluttery emotion that Beverly’s trying valiantly to suppress.

Beverly arches a brow. “Describe it to you?”

“Yes. Tell me what it tastes like.”

“It tastes like cranachan.”

“And what does cranachan—” Emphasis Deanna’s— “taste like?”

Beverly smirks impishly. “It tastes like raspberries and cream.”

His tongue parting her lips, the taste of cranachan and coffee.

Smugly, Deanna says, “I thought you said you wouldn’t be able to enjoy dessert because Louis would be there.”

Beverly’s furious blush is accompanied by a brief lapse of control, a flood of sensations.

His hands on her thighs, thumbs dangerously low, stroking lines of fire against her skin; beneath her, between her legs—

Deanna closes her mind again until the sensory extras fade away. She doesn’t not want the juicy details, but that was about to go too far.

Data tilts his head. “Doctor, my counterpart’s memory records indicate that Louis has an immense fondness for sweets. Was he not invited to partake in dessert?”

“Children typically don’t partake until they’re much older,” Deanna informs him, at which point several things click into place for Geordi and he turns away to hide a smile. Beverly’s lips are pursed, her emotions a mix of annoyance and amusement.

Data’s face is scrunched in consternation. “Counselor, I do not believe that statement is accurate. I have witnessed children eating dessert on several occasions, and—”

A burst of something warm and bright in the corridor draws Deanna’s attention and she turns towards it with an involuntary exclamation.

Immediately on alert, Beverly moves to stand beside her. “What is it?”

“The captain and Louis,” Deanna replies. Their emotions are as recognizable to her as their faces or their voices would be. Beverly’s anxiety nibbles at the edges of her awareness. “Everything’s fine,” she says. “Don’t worry. They’re…I don’t know what they’re talking about, but there’s an intense feeling of love flowing back and forth between them right now. It’s really quite beautiful.”

She hums a note of contentment, that warm, bright feeling wrapping her up exactly like in all her memories of her father’s embrace. The sensation lingers even as the doors open. Louis and Captain Picard walk in together, Louis tucked into the place at the captain’s side that seems as if it was made for him.

There’s a moment where everything is still and silent, like a held breath, and then the captain lifts his head and his eyes meet Beverly’s and there’s a simultaneous ignition in both of them, a concurrent swell of attraction in both of them that builds and erupts and rushes forward and collides.

To Deanna it’s as if a bomb detonated somewhere in between Captain Picard and Beverly. Even with her mind partially closed she can’t avoid the emotional shrapnel.

Beverly’s weight in her lap, the texture of her tights—

The clean scent of Jean-Luc’s skin, standard issue soap or aftershave, she can’t tell—

Deanna giggles, then presses her hand to her mouth to stifle it. “I’m sorry, it’s—I have to—I’ll be right back.”

Her entire body alight with—frankly—unwanted sensations, Deanna escapes to Beverly’s office to cool down, replicating a literal ice pack to speed the process. Later, she’ll realize that she probably deserves this. She pried, and now she’ll be haunted for an eternity. She’ll conclude, also later, that her suffering might be lessened if she had someone to suffer with—and that someone, she decides with a grin that’s equal parts wicked and fond, will be Will Riker.

#star trek: tng #star trek: the next generation #tng #star trek fic #tng fic #picard #captain picard #picard fic

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