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daisynik7 · 9 months

Text

Epilogue

Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~4.7k

cw: switching POVs (reader is in 2nd person, Todo is in 3rd), established relationship, explicit language, smut – phone sex, PIV sex (cowgirl, doggy), nipple play, clitoral stimulation, lots of dirty talk, degrading language (use of the word slut), pet names (babe, baby, baby girl, good girl, princess, sweetheart)

Summary: All of what happens in four months of dating your new boyfriend slash past rival Aoi Todo, leading up to Takada-Chan’s “Winter Wonderland”.

Author’s Notes: Things get explicit here! This is just a fun little bonus chapter to see our two idol fans going at it (literally). Hope you enjoy! Thank you everyone for all the love and support on this, I really appreciate it! Divider credit to @/saradika.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

Tag List: @iwillbiteabitch

Dating Aoi Todo is never boring. If you’ve learned anything from this relationship so far, it’s that.

Also, taking things slow has proved to be much more difficult than you and Todo ever anticipated, especially when the two of you are alone together. That commitment is broken about a week into your budding relationship.

The night of the confession, you and your new boyfriend talked for hours while Sara slept on your couch as a watchdog. You didn’t dare try anything with your best friend right outside just a few feet away. To prevent temptation, you set up an air mattress for him as the night progressed, agreeing to sleep separately. The only physical contact you made was when you both feel asleep in your respective beds, holding hands. Cute, innocent, and wholesome.

After that night, you and Todo started texting every day. He is a man who loves sending good morning texts, along with an array of different emojis. His favorites are the smirking face (of course), the muscle flex (another of course), and surprisingly, the koala bear, which always leaves you with a goofy smile on your face whenever you see it.

Four days after the confession, there is a late-night phone call that lasts over three hours, covering different topics from favorite foods (his is skirt steak, yours is salmon nigiri), ideal date ideas (both of you said a Takada-Chan concert), and pet peeves (he said boredom, you said passive aggressiveness).

This call also may or may not have ended with phone sex.

You and Todo just finished discussing your favorite movies when he asks, “Aren’t you sleepy? It’s past one already.”

“I drank a lot of matcha today, so I’m still wide awake,” you explain, shifting around beneath your blanket.

There is silence on the other line and after a while, he finally says, “I can help you fall asleep. So, what are you wearing?”

You snort into the phone, laughing at his less-than-subtle attempt. “You can’t be serious right now.”

“Come on! Just play along!” He clears his throat and in a significantly lower octave, he repeats, “So…what are you wearing?”

You do your best to hide your giggles. “A t-shirt and pajama shorts.”

Even his smirk is audible through the phone. “Sexy.”

Cheeks getting sore from smiling , you comment, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re not very good at this?”

“I’m good at it! Come on babe, you’re ruining the mood. Just…let me get in the groove.”

Growing impatient from his feeble attempts, you take matters into your own hands. “Why don’t you think about me in that mini skirt you like so much. The one from Takada-Chan’s birthday. I know how much you like that.”

“Okay,” he replies quietly, some movement evident on his end.

“You’re supposed to show me how rough you like it, remember?”

“Yeah,” he blurts out, starting to breathe heavily. “Can we do that one time? Please?”

Hearing him beg arouses you, hand reaching between your legs, spreading them wider beneath the covers. Feeling too brazen at this point, you purr, “Only if you can make me come right now.”

He whispers your name under his breath, followed by a husky, “Fuck. Tell me what you want to hear.” There’s movement against cloth and you can only imagine now that he’s touching himself, palming the bulge straining inside his briefs.

You shove your panties down your legs, rubbing circles around your clit. “Tell me how you want to fuck me in that skirt.” You’re already wet with arousal, though you don’t tell him that yet, keeping it a naughty secret to reveal when the time is right.

“I want you to ride me in that fucking skirt. Want to bounce you on my fat cock.” His growl is guttural, too fitting for a grade-A beefcake like him. Of course he sounds this sexy when he’s turned on, and of course you’re falling fast for it.

Desperate to hear more, you goad him. “Yeah? What else?”

He swears harshly again, loving the way you coax him into being bad. “Want to suck on your tits while you’re bouncing on me. Want to play with your clit until you squirt all over my cock.”

“Fuck, I’m touching myself right now,” you whine, squirming against your fingers.

His voice is erratic, trembling with frenzy, gradually losing himself to the pleasure. “Yeah? Imagine my big fucking thumb on your pretty clit, rubbing it so fucking fast until you come on my big dick.”

“I’m so wet for you, so creamy for you.” You’re salivating, drool leaking from the sides of your mouth, fingers squelching lewdly between your thighs.

“Spread it all over,” he demands. If you listen closely enough, you can hear the rapid strokes of his cock within his fist. “Do it, slut.”

You obey his orders, sliding your middle finger up and down your slit, collecting your slick to smear it over your throbbing bud, so close to your orgasm. In a daze, you moan his name, letting is roll off your tongue.

He jerks himself off to completion, coming from the sweet sounds of his name from your mouth. In between heavy breaths, he grunts harshly. “Fuck. I just came. Sorry.”

You giggle, slowing the pace of your fingers, teasing him. “I thought you were the one that offered to help mefall asleep?”

Embarrassed, he says, “I know, I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect you to say my name like that. That really got me.” There’s more shuffling in the background as you picture him inspecting his own mess. “Holy shit, I came a lot.”

“You should go to bed. You’re probably sleepy now.”

“No, not yet. I have to make you come still,” he offers, determined.

“It’s fine.”

“No. I need to make you come tonight so I can fuck you in that skirt. It’s going to happen.”

You learn that when Todo is determined to do something, he does it. He is a man that, when given any challenge, will do his damn best to complete it no matter what.

~~~

Not counting the phone sex, Todo could confidently say that they have been successful in taking things slow. That is, until a few days after the infamous phone sex, when all hell breaks loose.

It begins when his girlfriend decides to host a Takada-Chan concert marathon. The pop idol kicks off her international tour a week after Todo’s confession. To honor the start of it, she invites him, Sara, and Yuji to eat a bunch of delicious food and binge watch all Takada-Chan’s concerts available on streaming platforms. Sara and Yuji stay a while, but after the fourth consecutive Takada-Chan concert, they have enough, leaving the couple alone to their own devices, which anyone could guess is not a good idea if they are still sticking to the “taking things slow” route.

As soon as their friends leave, the two give each other one glance before the kissing starts. He spent all day resisting the temptation to touch her in any way since they were with Sara and Yuji. It’s been an excruciating four hours considering how cute and irresistible his girlfriend is.

She slides her hands under his shirt, pawing at his eight-pack. He slips his tongue inside her mouth as he completely pulls his shirt off. She pulls back, gawking at his body with wide eyes and an open mouth, practically drooling for him. “Like what you see?” he teases, raising a brow at her. She nods her head, leaning in for more kisses.

Eventually, she whispers, “Wait.”

He stops, leaning back on the couch. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I just have a little surprise for you. Wait here.” She gets up and disappears into her bedroom, leaving Todo confused and concerned. After several agonizingly long minutes, she comes out. When he sees her, his jaw drops, blood rushing straight to his cock.

The mini skirt. She’s wearing the fucking mini skirt. Not only that, she’s also wearing the same blouse she wore at the café, the one that exposes her shoulders and plunging neckline. Essentially the same outfit he has fantasized about since. In one swift motion, he hoists her up onto his lap, spreading her legs so that she’s straddling him. “You’re such a good girl for me, huh?” he growls, scattering wet smooches all over her face. “Such a good girl.” He fondles her body beneath the skirt and to his shock and delight, she isn’t wearing any underwear. “Not even wearing any panties for me, you fucking slut.”

“Only for you,” she whispers, directing his giant hand to her pussy. “Do you feel how wet I am for you already?”

“Fuck,” he breathes out, pressing his thumb to her and drawing circles around her clit. A guttural moan vibrates from her throat, making him move his thumb faster.

“I want you,” he grunts, feeling fucking feral beneath her.

“You want to fuck me here on the couch?” She’s panting now as his fingers brush against her bud faster.

“Yeah, right here, right now. Show me that pretty pussy.” With his free hand, he lifts the hem of her skirt to put her on display, watching her melt away in the palm of his hand, thumb unyielding against her clit. It glistens with her slick and his dick get tighter and tighter in his pants from the mere sight of it.

She tugs at the waistband of his joggers to release his erection. There’s a thick bead of precum on the tip. She rubs her thumb on it, spreading it over the head, causing him to groan in pleasure. Somehow, she conjures up a bottle of lube and pours a generous amount straight onto him, then she slides her fist up and down his shaft. In this moment of pure ecstasy, he can’t help but thank the pop idol gods for bringing this goddess of a woman into his life. He slides his fingers inside her, relishing how wet she is. Everything is happening so fast; his carnal desires take control. “Fucking ride me,” he commands.

She gets up on her knees, guiding the tip of his dick to her fluttering hole. Slowly, she sinks down on him, moaning. This is the hottest thing he’s ever fucking seen in his life. “So tight for me. My good girl,” he coos, gripping at her hips and gently moving her further down his shaft.

“So big, baby. Oh my god,” she whines. Once he bottoms out, she grabs hold of his shoulders and rocks back and forth on his lap, adjusting to his size.

“Take the skirt off. Want to watch you fuck yourself on my fat cock.”

He tries to lift her up from his lap, but she shakes her head. “Don’t pull out. Feels so good. So good.”

Absolutely unhinged, Todo growls, “I’m going to rip this skirt off, then. Need to see your pussy creaming all over me.” He hooks to the waistband, easily ripping it along the seams, tossing it behind him. Smirking, he whispers, “That’s it. Just like that.”

“My skirt!” she cries out, shocked and aroused.

“I’ll buy you a new one, princess. I’ll buy you hundreds more so I can fuck you just like this.” He holds her waist again, setting the pace, thrusting his own hips into her. His eyes are glued to the shiny ring of her cum collecting on the base of his cock. “You’re so fucking hot, you know that? You wanted to get fucked in that skirt, huh? Such a slut for me.” He releases his tight grip on her as soon as she starts bouncing up and down on her own, digging her nails into the skin of his shoulders, fucking herself deeper. The sounds she makes are music to his ears.

He focuses on her clit again, massaging it with his thumb. She gasps, startling him. “You okay, sweetie?” He cups her cheek, caressing her skin softly.

“Yes, so fucking good!” Her eyes are half-lidded, mouth parted open, looking absolutely divine. She grabs at his wrist and puts her lips over his thumb, completely engulfing it into her sloppy mouth. She moves him in and out, swirling her tongue around him with each stroke.

He bites his lip to stifle a moan. It takes everything in his willpower to hold back his orgasm. The way she moans, the fucked out look on her face, the thumb sucking. It’s too much and not enough all at the same time. He pulls out of her mouth and switch hands to place his wet thumb on her clit, while the other hand, still glistening from her slick, glides underneath her blouse and up to one of her nipples. She isn’t wearing a bra.

“Such a fucking good girl,” he murmurs as he strips the blouse off her body. He squeezes one of her breasts and puts his lips around the nipple, sucking hard. With both her hands, she squeezes her tits together, leaning forward, feeding them to him.

“Yeah, want to feed me these big tits, huh baby? So fucking needy.” He buries his face in between her breasts, kissing her nipples one at a time.

“Suck them hard,” she whimpers. He alternates between each breast, sucking hard until each nipple is taut and plump between his pursed lips.

Mouth hot on his ear, she purrs, “Baby, I’m so close.”

“Come for me, beautiful. Come all over my cock.”

With his lips latched onto her breasts, thumb relentless on her clit, and cock deep in her pussy, it’s no surprise when, after just a few more minutes, she throws her head back and cries out, “I’m coming!” She clenches around him, creating a sensation of pure ecstasy, he can’t help but orgasm right along with her. She moans as it continues, his thick cum filling her up, the excess dripping down the inner plush of her thighs. She collapses against him, panting and trembling slightly from the euphoric rush. Todo cradles her in a warm embrace, burying his face into her neck.

“You did so good, sweetie. So good for me. Thank you,” he muffles, breathing heavily against her skin.

“That was amazing,” she says, still slumped over Todo.

“You should go pee, baby. Don’t want you to get a UTI.”

“Just give me a few minutes. I’m tired.”

Todo, who is also exhausted from having the biggest orgasm of his life, gets up and carries his girlfriend bridal style into the bathroom. He plops her down on the toilet and turns the shower on. When he hears the distinct sound of a tinkle, he breathes a sigh of relief. No girlfriend of Aoi Todo will ever get a UTI from sex, not on his watch.

~~~

Once the floodgates open, nothing stops you and Todo from pouncing on each other every chance you get. The sex is always nothing short of amazing. Despite not being able to keep your hands off each other, you still try to keep PDA down to a minimum. But Todo, being the big bravado self he is, let’s his guard down a few times. He still grabs your ass in public, especially when you’re wearing dresses, shorts, or skirts. And honestly, after the first time, you intentionally started wearing skirts more often just to tease him.

Whenever you do indulge in the occasional kiss in front of your friends, Todo always gets carried away, shamelessly driving his tongue into your mouth. Normally, you love this, but only in private. Understandably, Sara always gives your boyfriend a whack on top of the head to get him to stop, which he does before muttering an embarrassed apology.

Besides the disgust over the occasional PDA, Sara and Todo get along great. They bond over working out, horror movies, and teasing you. Todo’s brother Yuji is your brother now too. He’ll ask you for advice when it comes to girls or his friendships. You ask him for advice on how to deal with annoying people at work, since Todo’s advice is always, “Just tell me their name and I will beat the shit out of them.”

As with any relationship, there are issues you two have to work through. When Todo first explains his job, you are convinced he is playing some bizarre prank on you. To be fair, someone describing themselves as a “Jujutsu Sorcerer” who “exorcises” evil curses sounds like something straight out of a shounen anime. When he demonstrate Boogie Woogie, where he manages to switch positions with Yuji in the blink of an eye, you are certain you are going crazy. After a few weeks of processing everything, with a lot of patience from Todo and moral support from Yuji, you can safely say you’ve made peace with understanding the gist of Todo’s profession. Of course, there is still plenty that you can’t grasp, but Todo’s confidence in himself relieves the stress caused by that uncertainty.

There are times of jealousy and insecurity on both sides that lead to fighting and arguments. When you start your full-time job after the summer, he gets jealous over one of your male coworkers training you for a week. Even after doing your best to convince him that it is strictly professional, he still can’t help himself from making snide remarks about your coworker at the end of the week. An issue that you’re still working on, and slowly getting better at, is trying not to be petty when you get annoyed with him. During this time, you just can’t help yourself.

Eventually, you manage to find the best way to shut him up.

It’s been two weeks since you started your new full-time job. This week, you worked with a coworker, Kenji Saito, for training. Saito is a man several years older than you who is married with kids. But none of this matters to Todo because he is still jealous. As you prepare dinner at his place, you mention, “Training went well. Saito said I should be ready for my first project next week.”

Todo grunts. “Saito. I’m surprised you’re not calling him by his first name yet. You two have been spending soooo much time together.”

You smile to yourself, unable to resist provoking him. “I barely call you by your first name. But if you want, I can start calling him Kenji.”

He moves behind you like a lion stalking his prey, growling in your ear. “Don’t do that.”

You turn to face him, his body towering above you, casting a daunting shadow. “What are you going to do about it, Aoi?”

As quickly as he moved behind you, he slings you over his shoulder, carrying you into the bedroom. He tosses you onto his bed, stripping off his clothes while you do the same, already wet against your panties. You’re laid on your back when he straddles you, the way he looms over you intensifies the growing sensation in your loins. He leans down to kiss you sloppily. “Only I get to do this to you, right? No one else?” he asks, between kisses.

“Yes, baby. Of course.”

“Then say it for me. Please.”

“Only you get to do this to me. Only you.”

He flips you over on your stomach and presses up against you, lips tickling your ear as he demands, “Say it. Say it again.” His cock throbs between your ass cheeks.

“Only you, Aoi. This pussy is only for you. Fuck,” you whimper, desperate to feel him inside you.

“It’s mine, huh? You’re my good girl. You’re my fucking slut. Say it.”

“I’m your good girl, Aoi. I’m your – “, you pause to catch your breath. “I’m your fucking slut.”

He gets off to reach towards the dresser next to the bed. As he does this, you get on your hands and knees, ready for what’s to come (literally). You crane your neck to watch him smear a generous amount of lube along his hard cock, causing you to lick your lips in anticipation. He tosses the bottle onto the floor and positions himself behind you.

You stick your ass out, back arched and ready for him. He slides the tip along the folds of your pussy, guiding himself in slowly. It’s times like these that you are reminded at how fucking huge your boyfriend is, and you love it. Once he’s to the hilt, he stops. “Shake your ass on my cock. You know how I like it.”

With your hands clenched to the sheets, you thrust yourself onto his dick, back and forth, back and forth. After you’re fully adjusted to his size, you pick up the pace, his cock easily sliding in and out with each thrust. “Just like that baby. Fuck. Wish I could take a video of this. You look so good on my cock. Doing such a good job,” he praises, watching you do all the work.

You continue to move yourself relentlessly on him, moaning loudly into the pillow. When you reach your climax, your back arches even more as you orgasm without saying anything. You don’t want him to know you came already as you keep on fucking him. Todo chuckles in his deep voice. You can almost feel the vibrations of his laugh against your throbbing pussy. “I know you came all over my cock, baby. You can’t fool me. You’re so wet. It’s dripping all over the sheets, nasty girl.” He reaches around to rub your clit, his fingers lubed up and wet with your cum.

“Fuck. Aoi. Oh my god, don’t stop. Oh fuck,” you whine.

“You’re so good to me, baby. So good. Taking it like a good girl,” he whispers, massaging your sensitive bud deeper. Your pace slows down, knees weak from your first orgasm. Todo places his free hand on your waist, spreading his fingers wide to grip at your skin. “Let me take over, baby girl.”

You let him, of course. He uses his hold on you to time the thrusts of his hips perfectly. Todo makes you orgasm twice more in this position before he releases himself inside you, filling you up to the brim with his creampie. He pulls out, his load making a mess on his sheets.

After you do your business in the bathroom, the two of you cuddle in bed, blissed out and exhausted. He turns towards you, kissing you on the forehead, apologizing. “I’m sorry.”

You hum, closing your eyes. “For what?”

“Being annoying,” he admits.

“And…?”

“Being jealous.”

“…And?”

He nuzzles his nose against yours. “For being an asshole.”

You smile, peaking at him with one eye open. “I’m sorry for being petty. I’ll work on not using that against you when you’re feeling upset about something.”

“To be fair, I wasn’t that upset. Like anyone can compete with me, right? Especially not Saito.” He makes a face when he says that name.

Still feeling a little naughty, you joke, “You mean Kenji?”

You immediately regret it as soon as he wrestles between the sheets, giggling hysterically as he tickles you to the point of tears.

~~~

It’s been four months since you’ve been dating Aoi Todo. Four months of amazing sex, occasional bickering reminiscent of the origins of your relationship, and new discoveries about each other that bring you closer than ever.

Now, you stand beside your boyfriend, waiting in line at the mall you first met at. Today, Takada-Chan is hosting a special Winter Wonderland event. Essentially, instead of taking a picture on Santa’s lap, Takada-Chan fans get to take a picture next to the pop idol in front of a snowy backdrop. After touring internationally the last few months, the singer planned an impromptu appearance at the mall of her hometown to celebrate the holiday season.

When it’s finally your turn, Takada-Chan greets you with that beautiful, bright smile. “My favorite couple! I’m so happy you made it! I was hoping to see you today.”

“Takada-Chan! We’re happy to see you, too. It’s been a while. How has the tour been?”

“Tiring. It’s nice to be back home for a little bit. Happy holidays! Oh! Todo, please go follow Haru, he’s going to give you a little something. Think of it as a special gift from me.” She winks. Todo bows deeply and follows Haru behind the set. You can’t help but smile to yourself noticing that your boyfriend is still speechless around the pop idol. Some things never change.

You decide to finally be honest with her. “Takada-Chan. You’ve been so good to us. I have to come clean about something. The first time you met Todo and I, we weren’t actually a couple. We were just faking it because you seemed to like us so much better together. I’m sorry.” You look at her nervously, praying to the pop idol gods that she isn’t too upset for the deception.

To your surprise, she smiles even wider, a twinkle in her eyes. “I know.”

“You know?!”

“I knew you two weren’t a couple. To be honest, I knew it was a bit risky on my end to play matchmaker, but I just couldn’t help myself! Who better to be together than two of my #1 fans?” She gives you another wink as you stare at her, mouth agape.

She continues. “Also, sweet Todo was convinced that I was his future wife. Poor guy doesn’t know I don’t swing that way. So, I wanted to steer him in the right direction to you. And now look. The fruits of my labor! The results are a beautiful harvest of love. You two are just as cute as I thought you’d be.”

Shocked, you stammer, “Takada-Chan…I really don’t know what to say. How can I…how can we repay you?”

She reaches her arms out to squeeze your shoulders. “I don’t need you to repay me! Anything for my fans.” Leaning closer, she whispers, “But tell me this: Who made the first move? You see, Haru and I had a little bet going since the two of your first visited my dressing room. Haru claims he won, since he saw Todo holding your hand at the big group date. I placed my bets on you, of course.”

“Well, actually, I kissed Todo that morning. So, you did win.”

The pop idol jumps up giddily. “You made the first move?! I knew it! That’s my girl! I love a woman who takes initiative! I’m going to pester Haru to give me my money back.”

“Thank you for everything, Takada-Chan. I mean it.”

“I’m happy for the both of you. Can’t wait to see you at my next event. DM me if you ever need anything!” With a hug, the two of you say your goodbyes.

You find an empty bench nearby to sit on while you wait for your boyfriend. Todo reappears from the back with two black t-shirts in hand. As he sits next to you, he unfolds the shirts so you can see the front. It’s a screen-printed photo of you, Todo, and Takada-Chan doing the Taka-tan beam in her dressing room.

“This is awesome! Our own special gift from Takada-Chan! I’ll cherish this forever. My two future wives in one picture,” he grins.

Laughing, you wrap your arms around him, giving him a passionate smooch on the lips. Blushing, he asks, “What was that for?”

“I just really wanted to kiss you.” You gaze into his eyes, smiling before saying, “Because I love you.”

His eyes widen. “What did you say?”

“I love you, Aoi.”

Suddenly, he picks you up and sits you on his lap, beaming. “You love me?”

“Yes. I love you!” You throw your arms around him in a warm embrace.

He buries his face into your neck, muffling, “I love you, too. I love you so much.” He holds your face in between his palms, kissing you square on the lips. “I love you,” he repeats, kissing you all over your cheeks, forehead, and neck. His hands roam down to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

Relationships are never perfect. People are never perfect. But this moment right now is perfect. Confessing your love feels natural. It makes sense. To think that this whole thing started off as a ridiculous rivalry and blossomed into a “beautiful harvest of love”, as a certain pop idol would say. It just proves that sometimes, finding love can start off silly and ridiculous. And with Takada-Chan playing matchmaking for you and Todo, you couldn’t write a better love story than this.

#aoi todo #aoi todo x reader #aoi todo smut #aoi todo x you #todo aoi x reader #todo aoi x you #todo aoi #todo aoi smut #todo smut #todo x reader #todo x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #idol fan wars

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aces-and-angels · 3 months

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ART CAMPAIGN BOOST SUBMISSIONS:

edit: i hit the image limit for this post, so any new additions will be included here

the tag is starting to get kinda crowded (great problem, dw). i just thought compiling them all here would make things easier for everyone to find! all of the art displayed below is free to use for the purposes of promoting vetted gfm's here on tumblr. no credit is needed unless specified (marked = ***). if you have any questions regarding how to craft a post using any of the art provided -> please do not hesitate to reach out to me! note: please press follow post as i will most likely need to update this masterlist from time to time.

some info is below the cut on how to best utilize this material. please read it in its entirety before using any artwork. thank you 🖤

learn how to make art for this project here:

---

this project has gained a lot of momentum and has shown very promising results. the level of engagement once art is attached to a vetted gfm increases significantly. you will see what i mean as i have linked example posts of how to best use these pieces to help families in need.

i currently have a list of over 20+ families that i am spotlighting in my own personal progress tracker (the list has gotten so long that i now need to make a second version to accommodate all the families trying to get in contact with me).

this art campaign boost is truly meant to be utilized by anyone. i would sincerely appreciate it if y'all could take some time and pick maybe 1-2 people from this list and use the art below to create your own signal boost posts on the families' behalf. as someone who is periodically tracking their progress- i know that donation rates have slowed for a number of them. i am one person and can only do so much on my own. the essence of this initiative is to get more people to mobilize as a collective. it will take everyone to get on board in order for these families to be able to reach their goals. that means spotlighting their accounts/campaigns periodically.

you need to keep up the momentum.

the individuals you are helping currently live in areas with minimal internet connection, meaning it is very difficult to spotlight themselves on their own. especially since this site is continuously suppressing/deleting their accounts. they need you to interact with their content. tumblr isn't like other social media sites. it's known for being very 'anti-algorithm' and it's common culture for many of us to not really care about our levels of engagement (i.e. follower count/amount of notes per post). it's very hard for your own content to "break" your inner circle of followers and gain traction if the topic of the post is not "popular" or "trending" these families are not operating on this site the same way you are. you may be using this platform as a means to "just vibe" but they are using it as a desperate attempt to raise essential funding to save their lives. the importance that their posts be elevated cannot be overstated. anyone who has ever created any sort of og content here knows how quickly a post can die out if no one interacts with it. this cannot happen with them.

tips for making your own signal boost post* (*for vetted campaigns):

-> make it easy to read + eye-catching: the problem i am seeing when you search many of these families' accounts is that their "tag" (username of their account) is full of the same types of posts (i.e. a generic response to their initial message to another person on tumblr) <- aka it is very easy for people to tune out which is the opposite of what we want to happen. creating your OWN posts in response to their asks allows the art to appear FIRST when people look up someone's account via tumblr's search bar, which will attract more attention to their accounts. it also forces people who are making these posts to actually sit down and read the stories they are sharing with the rest of their mutuals/lurkers alike -> include verification sources: the main reason people are searching for these accounts is b/c they are trying to see if it is okay to reblog/share their campaign with their own following. if you address this plainly and early on in your post that includes artwork -> people are more likely to interact -> tag the account you are promoting: please include the families' account as one of your #'s so it will appear when you search for their names on tumblr. also try @'ing their account in your post so it'll be easier for these families to find your work. some of them are incredibly new to the platform and may not be aware of all its features. something that you may find intuitive may not be as easily understood for these individuals. your role is to make them as easy as possible to find for others so they can gain more support. --- don't have time to type out a whole post for a family on their behalf? -> interact with one of theirs! attach something nice/helpful to their posts so it is more readily available for others to share. the same rules apply from above. as i said before, some of these accounts are brand spanking new and are not formatted in the same ways as others that may be more well-versed on how tumblr operates in terms of promoting their campaigns. (for example: even if the account has been vetted/verified by multiple trusted individuals- the owners of that account may not know to include that info in their posts about their campaign every single time they post. you can make their lives easier by including that info for them by reblogging one of their og posts and adding the necessary info on their behalf)

you can also find a more comprehensive list of vetted campaigns by el-shab-hussein/nabulsi here <- their list is now over 200+ with several campaigns that are "in the red" (very low in funding). please do not hesitate to try to spotlight anyone from this list as well!

el-shab-hussein also has a masterpost pinned here with additional campaigns (including those for other countries like sudan)

alright i've explained enough- time for the art!

artist: @rhq274 | @rhq2744 *** free to use, credit required meet raghad (read and share full post here) Hello, I am Raghad Qanou, a medical student from Gaza City. My people and I have been subjected to genocide for more than 230 days. My family and I have lived through various types of torture and inhumane conditions. This link is my only chance for me and my family to escape death and try to start over. This is not easy. But we are trying, and we would be happy to have you help save our lives and our future. instructions to utilize artwork: those who wish to share raghad's art MUST do ALL of the following: -> follow raghad on tumblr @rhq274 | @rhq2744 -> like + reblog one or more of her posts seen on her account that promotes her fundraiser (you may also include additional art shown below to help further boost her campaign; see example) once those actions detailed above are completed, you may use raghad's art to promote her campaign. *if you are utilizing this art for another campaign that is not raghad's -> you must also mention + link her fundraiser as well /// for those able: please consider donating to raghad's campaign here (vetted; no 221 on el-shab-hussein/nabulsi's sheet)

artist: me lol free to use, no credit required example

artist: @lampyri free to use, no credit required example

artist: @aria-ashryver free to use, no credit required example

artist: @monmonp0k free to use, credit not required- but if given, is appreciated example

artist: @juudaimes-true-form free to use, no credit required example

artist: @gaiuskamilah free to use, no credit required example

artist: @marnota free to use on all social media platforms (i.e. tumblr, insta, twitter, etc), no credit required example

artist: @marquainequeen free to use, no credit required example

artist: @palms-upturned free to use, no credit required example

artisit: @inkyswampbones free to use, no credit required example

#art campaign boost #not choices #got around to making a masterlist #im tired after typing all that #if there are typos- no there isnt lol #🍉#i'll add this post to my pin later #i think i got everyone but if i missed you just let me know!

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alittlebitofsainz · 6 months

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a place in this world - ch1

a dream come true. you, a race engineer in formula one, having built your way up through the ranks. sure, the 2020 season hadn’t exactly gone the way that everyone had expected, but this was your chance, your moment to prove to the world of racing what you and your driver, carlos, were made of. but carlos isn’t staying at mclaren forever, and eventually, you’ll have a decision to make…

pairing: carlos sainz x f! reader. slow burn colleagues to friends to lovers (please, from my own experience, don’t follow this pipeline)

info: reader lives in the uk due to working at mclaren, and is somewhat implied to be british. it is also implied that they listen to bbc radio 2 and support leicester city football club. this may or may not be because these things are true of me and I wasn’t planning on publishing this, sorry!

warnings: cursing, a lil’ bit of angst, very infrequent use of y/n, one (1) google translated spanish sentence, a dry british writing style xoxo a/n: hello! welcome to a little passion project I never thought I’d share with the internet. this will eventually become a sort of ‘choose your own adventure’ type series, where you can make decisions about your career that can eventually lead you to different teams and drivers. will be posting a masterlist soon with more info so bare with me! any feedback / comments are always welcome

Masterlist | chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

Chapter One: … Ready for It?

it had started out like any other wednesday. except it hadn’t, not really. the nature of your job meant that there was no ‘any other wednesday’. most wednesdays meant that you were jetting off to some new country, your wide eyed face in the window seat, reflecting back off the pane of glass separating you from the dancing lights of some exciting new city, 5,000 feet below. race engineer to mclaren-renault formula one driver number 55, carlos sainz, wasn’t exactly what you had listed as what you wanted to be when you grew up, but you were far from disappointed that that’s what your linkedin profile now read, a metaphorical middle finger to everyone who’d said you’d never amount to anything in motorsports.

but by all accounts it had been a relatively uneventful wednesday in your life, in fact even more so than usual compared to the early morning check ins at Stansted airport that you’d grown accustomed to. this week was silverstone, your home race, if race engineers could call it that, and that meant no early mornings, no check ins, no flights, no decanting your liquids into tiny bottles and zipping them into a plastic bag to take through security. this wednesday was a stop at sainsburys to fill up the tank of your vw polo with petrol, and an 80 mile drive west towards silverstone circuit. the most exciting part of your morning was getting stuck in half an hour of traffic on the m25; you didn’t even need the dulcet tones of Richie Anderson on radio 2 to tell you there’d be traffic at Potters Bar. as a native southerner, you could just feel it in your bones.

still, only fifteen minutes late to track wasn’t too bad, considering your lengthy journey, and you were by far the last member of the team to arrive. you would’ve been even less late, but for the fact that you’d sat for the best part of five minutes in your car, engine off, staring at the notification on your phone. there were so many questions running around in your head, first and foremost of which was why on earth did dan from engineering have your number? but the second question, which was possibly the more important one, was why did carlos ask him for it? he said that it ‘might be useful to contact each other.’ if the current expression on your face could be summed up in a noise, it would be a very confused and very emphatic ‘huh?’.

sure, you and carlos interacted a lot during race weekends, that much was a given. you were forever catching up to discuss data, strategies, the car setup, the sandwich options at the hospitality, why the leicester city football team would beat real madrid in a fist fight. so okay, your conversations weren’t allstrictly work related, and you could’t deny that the two of you got on well and seemed to really understand each other, but that was all part of being a driver and race engineer duo; you had to be on the same wavelength. it was non-negotiable. but swapping phone numbers? you couldn’t imagine why the two of you would need to text or call each outside of work hours, and you had work phones for that. which led you to your third and fourth questions: number three, why did you suddenly feel so nervous and giddy with excitement when you re-read his message for the seventh time? (question three point five was why did you re-read his message seven times?) and number four, what the hell were you supposed to message back in reply?

you typed in a thumbs up emoji and then immediately deleted it. how fucking old were you, 65? what next, start talking to him about the cold war? no, you had to keep it fun and casual, not too overfamiliar but not too weirdly distant and cold. god, why was this so difficult? you felt like a schoolgirl with a teenage crush, constantly typing various replies and deleting them again, letter by letter. eventually you settled on a cool, calm and collected response, typing it out and shoving your phone into your pocket before you had time to overanalyse what you’d just sent. quickly gathering up your stuff from the boot of your car, you spammed the lock button on your car keys, just in case the first five times didn’t stick, and trotted off towards the entrance to the paddock.

as it was approaching the hour mark since he’d sent his text, carlos had been starting to worry that he’d overstepped an unwritten boundary. why had he even asked dan from engineering for her number in the first place? it just felt like something that he should have. lando had will’s number, he’d already asked him that. but once he’d sent the message he realised that he couldn’t really come up with an excuse as to why he’d needed it, why he couldn’t have waited until he’d seen her this weekend and ask for her number from herself. like a normal person. deep down he knew why, though he was in some sort of state of denial about it, and it was the same reason that he hadn’t asked for her number two weeks ago in Hungary, or at the previous race in Austria, or when he’d first met her at the start of the season.

he breathed a sigh of relief when her reply came through, 57 minutes after he’d sent his message. well, the first one that is. the second message came two minutes after the first; god, he couldn’t believe he’d been stupid enough to forget to include who he was at the end of the text the first time around.

but it didn’t matter now, because she’d replied, and her words on the screen made him smile to himself, her voice in his head as he read them through three, now four times over. his fingers hovered over the keypad, contemplating a reply. he checked the time - it wouldn’t be long until she arrived at track anyway and they could chat in person, so he closed the messages app on his phone and tucked it away in his pocket, deciding against committing any words to the everlasting aether which was the iPhone messages app.

it was nearing the end of a lengthy strategy department meeting when your phone went off, a few pair of eyes glancing your way as you apologised profusely, eyes scanning over the text before sheepishly putting your phone on do not disturb and placing it back on the table face down. shit, this meeting wouldn’t be finished for another ten minutes at least, and by that time all the bacon and brie toasties would be gone (everyone knew they were the best lunch option). worse still, you hated the fact that you had to leave carlos hanging; pausing the strategy meeting to send off a quick text was equivalent to a cardinal sin, even if it was to carlos sainz. your eyes were flicking increasingly often down to the time on your laptop, the seconds crawling by as the time approached one o’clock. it felt like whichever godlike entity governed the laws of time was toying with you; surely it wasn’t possible for time to move this slowly? the head of strategy wrapped the meeting at 13:04, and you were out of your seat like a rocket.

amy, one of the strategists, fell into step beside you as you paced it down the corridor.

“you’ve heard about the brie and bacon being back on?” she asked; you only had to reply with a grin to give her the answer that she needed. she eyed you up, as much as anyone power walking down a busy corridor could whilst still maintaining maximum straight line speed.

“everyone from strategy and engineering has been in meetings. so who’s your source?” came her second question. you picked up your pace, under the guise of trying to get to the canteen quicker.

she had a habit of taking just enough time to respond to carlos’ messages to keep him guessing whether she actually would respond at all. it wasn’t entirely her fault, carlos realised; she’d apologised for earlier, explaining that she was busy driving. of course she was, how could he be such an idiot? maybe a part of him was hoping that she’d been acting coy, teasing him by waiting, purposefully trying to keep him on the edge of his seat.

carlos saw her enter the canteen, watched with a small, self satisfied smirk as her face fell, the rattan shelf where the brie and bacon toasties had been, now depressingly empty. he left it just long enough so that she was forced to consider which disappointing option to go for instead, before finally calling her over.

“Y/N!” carlos called, watching as her head whipped round, and he had to stifle a laugh at her confusion. he waved her over.

“sorry, I was stuck in a meeting.” she sighed, her voice slightly breathless. had she ran here? he fought back the urge to tease her about it, shaking his head slightly.

“don’t worry about it.” he replied, gesturing to the seat beside him as he spoke. her eyes lit up when her gaze fell on the plate on the table, in just the way he’d pictured in his head. god, he’d never get over the way the simple things pleased her, and he didn’t mean that in a bad way. over the past couple of months that he’d known her, carlos had learned that the little things really mattered, in a way that was almost rare in this environment. she looked upon a brie and bacon sandwich like it was the sun that shined, and if she’d have looked up at carlos in that moment, she’d have seen that he was looking at her in the exact same way.

“is that for me?”

“no.” carlos replied, deadpan. she shot him a look, her face screwed up in a pout that he’d grown more accustomed to the more he teased her like this. eventually he let out a soft chuckle, as a way to say I’m only joking, of course it’s for you, and she sat down in the seat next to him with a playful scowl, which only caused him to laugh more.

“thanks, carlos. you’re the best.” she told him through a mouthful of brie, bacon and toasted bread.

“I know.” he replied, a cheeky grin dancing across his face. “it was the last one as well.”

“amy’s gonna be pissed.” she giggled, glancing over her shoulder to watch as her colleague was forced to settle for regular ham and cheese.

a podium finish to p13. was it worse to fail because of your own shortcomings or because of something that was out of your control? if you’d asked carlos sainz right now, he would think about it for a moment, and then tell you to vete a la mierda.*

his phone screen lighting up in the darkness was the only thing that brought his attention to how dark it had become in his hotel room. christ, how long had he been sat there, staring at the wall, trying to process how frustrated and angry and upset he was? he’d put his phone on silent, tired of all the commiseratory messages that had been coming through, but apparently his bedtime reminder didn’t obey the laws of do not disturb. sighing, he unlocked the device, and quickly scanned down the many notifications he had been ignoring for the past few hours. one stood out above all the rest, because of course it did. he felt guilt clutch him as he noticed the message from well over an hour ago. from her.not only guilty at the fact that he’d not seen her message, but for some reason guilty for perceiving that he’d let her down at her home race. it was stupid, he knew, to feel that way - it wasn’t his fault that his tyre had blown out with just a few laps to go, but he knew how excited she’d been for her first ever british gp, and it had all ended in disappointment. his fingers hovered over the keyboard at the bottom of his phone for a moment, a million different emotions whizzing round in his head, bouncing off the sides like a demented pinball machine. no wonder he had a headache. he drew in a sharp breath before typing out his reply.

*I’m hoping this means somewhat akin to ‘fuck off’

you’d almost forgotten that you’d sent carlos sainz a message of commiseration, which was shocking considering how long you’d been deliberating over it only a mere hour ago. you were back in your own bed in your hometown, seeing no need to stick around seeing as there would be no celebrations this weekend, and carlos had disappeared as soon as the team debrief had ended, making it very clear that he wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. which made it all the more surprising when you leaned over to your bedside table, bleary eyes blinking back sleep as your vision adjusted to the pitch black of your room, to pick up the phone which had woken you from your sleep.

your eyes blinked again against the harsh light of the phone, taking a moment to focus on the big bold numbers on your lockscreen. 01:03? who was texting you at this time? eyebrows knitted together in an increasingly deep frown, you scanned carlos’ message. as was becoming customary, you read it several times over, this time to check whether you’d read it right. why would he want to ring you, at this time of night as well? your mind started to reach for wild possibilities - was he in trouble? hurt? worse?

before he changed his mind, carlos hit the telephone symbol next to her contact details.

“Carlos, are you okay?” her voice came through almost immediately, sounding equal parts panicked yet somehow sleepy. shit, not only had he caused her to worry, he’d probably just woken her up in the middle of the night as well. what kind of dickhead rings a colleague that he’s only known for a few months at 1am? he cleared his throat.

“fuck, sorry, I woke you up.”

“don’t worry about it, I was awake.” she replied. a blatant lie, but carlos appreciated the attempt to make him feel better.

“can I help you with something?” she continued, still sounding concerned. he shook his head even though she couldn’t see.

“yes, no. fuck, I don’t know.” he growled at himself for being so confused, so confusing, for not even really knowing why he’d called her. was he going insane, or did he just hear a soft sigh on the other end of the line? he squeezed his eyes shut, collecting himself to try again, but she beat him to it.

“I’m sorry about today, carlos, it must be tough to deal with.”

sometimes it felt like she knew him better than he knew himself. he dragged a hand down his face.

“yeah, I’m- it’s not great.” he stumbled over his words slightly, his voice catching in his throat. usually he’d be reluctant to show this vulnerability, embarrassed even, but something about the late hour combined with how oh-so-soft her voice was… it made him forget his pride for just that moment.

“I can’t stop thinking about it.” he admitted, feeling a ramble coming on but equally feeling powerless to stop it. “I know that it was a problem with the tyre, I know that it wasn’t my fault, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating. and then there’s always a part of me that wonders whether there was anything that I could’ve done. like, maybe if I’d driven less aggressively or something, or changed the way I braked around a certain corner. I still feel like I’ve let myself down, let the team down, let you dow-“

“you didn’t let me down, carlos.” her abrupt reply broke him from his monologue, stopping him in his tracks and allowing him to fill his lungs with air, not realising how out of breath he was becoming with his run-on sentences.

“what?” came his soft reply. he’d heard perfectly clearly what she’d said the first time. but a part of him needed to hear it again.

“you didn’t let me down, carlos.” she repeated, with the same clarity, the same sincerity, the same low tone that he’d never heard from her before that made her sound so wise beyond her years.

“you didn’t let anyone down. this wasn’t your fault. I know it doesn’t make it any less frustrating or easier to deal with - there’s nothing I can say that will change that. but please, please don’t blame yourself for any part of it.”

there was silence on both ends for a moment, before carlos let out a long sigh.

“I- yeah, I guess you’re right.” there was something still on his mind, something that one am carlosknew that one pm carlos would never want to talk about, least of all burden his race engineer with it. but that was all the more reason to say it now.

“I just feel so much pressure to perform, now that I have the ferrari contract.” his voice dropped even lower as he spoke, as if whispering it quietly enough could make it not be true. “I feel like I have to earn my place there, you know?”

“carlos, you were P-fucking-3.”

something about the way she stressed the syllables made carlos chuckle despite himself, and from the way she let out a small giggle on the other end of the phone, he guessed that that had been her intention all along.

“anyone can see that you’ve earned that seat at ferrari. you’ve proved that time and time again already. this isn’t about anyone else, this is about you, and what you believe you deserve. the only person you need to convince is yourself.”

carlos chuckled again, feeling some sort of playful nature already coming back to him. maybe he’d finally figured out why he wanted to call her in the middle of the night, maybe it was even the reason he wanted her number in the first place. maybe it was because he knew that no matter how crappy he was feeling, talking to her always seemed to turn the day around. she always seemed to make him smile.

“very inspirational.” he replied, his tone almost teasing over her ‘believing in yourself’ speech. the corners of his lips curved upwards as he could practically hear her rolling her eyes on the other end.

“this is what I get for trying to be nice.” she muttered, but her tone was light, reciprocating the teasing. carlos smiled, his first genuine smile in several hours. probably since the last time he’d seen her.

“thank you, really. talking to you it… it always puts me in a better mood.” carlos confessed, glad that this was a phone call so she couldn’t see the way his cheeks lit up a soft shade of pink.

“anytime, carlos.”

when they eventually hung up the call, carlos felt lighter than he had in weeks, like she’d melted all his problems away with her soft voice and warm heart. he slept easy that night. meanwhile, she was now wide awake.

you groaned when the sound of your phone pinging dragged you from your admittedly tumultuous sleep. it had been difficult to drift off again after that call with carlos, a million thoughts buzzing around your brain like a swarm of bees on cocaine. you felt bad for carlos, sure, but that wasn’t enough to keep you awake on its own. there was another feeling there; if you were to flip through an oxford english dictionary until you found a word that summed it up you might settle for ‘intrigued’.

you were intrigued that carlos that had decided to ring you of all people last night; surely he had family, or at the very least close friends, that he would rather turn to? but you were also intrigued by your own reaction - why were you feeling so warm and fuzzy that carlos had chosen you, the knowledge that when he was feeling low you were the one he wanted to hear on the other end of the line creating some sort of feeling in your heart, like someone was squeezing it not-quite-too tightly?

it was these questions, and an incessant amount of bin lorries driving past at 5am, that kept you from falling back asleep, and were the reason that you were grumbling now, as you reached over to pick up your phone. the grumbling ceased the moment you read the message and saw who it was from, replaced by a softly murmured ‘oh’, and that strange feeling in your chest again.

as always feedback and comments are welcomed with massive appreciation and open arms! a second part is written and will be out soonish! much love, Katie x

#f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n #f1 fic #f1 imagine

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goldenbuckyyy · 2 years

Text

YOU’RE ALL I WANT

Summary: You and Harry finally reconnect.

Pairings: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.7kish

Warnings: Over 3k of smut!! Oral (fem! & male!receiving), fingering, allure to squirting, raw sex, creampie, slight fem!reader!Dom/subrry vibes if you squint!! 🤏🏻

A/N: Hi!! Sorry this has taken so long! The holidays were very crazy and work has been… just as crazy as always! But she’s here and I hope you love her as much as I do.. because I love her!! I’m also going to be tagging anybody who mention needing part 2 since it’s been a while!! Also, this is probably the last part! Song title inspo: “You’re all I want” by Cigarettes After Sex

Divider is by @silkholland!! I love your divider so much! Thank you for allowing us to use them. 🫶🏻

All my mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other site nor this one.

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions. Please message me your thoughts!!! It fuels me!

PART 1 || Main Masterlist

May 20th, 2022.

You tapped your fingers on your countertop as you watched the time slowly trickle by.

3:03PM.

Watching how slow the time was going felt almost agonizing.

You let out a groan as you felt as if time had never gone by any slower. You were still in your pajamas, sipping on your door dashed iced latte, stomach still full of your late morning breakfast, and you felt nervous. Nauseated, almost.

So nervous about seeing Harry tonight that you almost wanted to throw up. And you knew you didn’t have to feel this nervous, but it’s been almost a year that you haven’t seen him. It’s normal to feel this way. You can’t help it.

Harry’s album had already been out since midnight and you had to physically restrain yourself from listening to it. You wanted tonight to be the first night you listened to all of his new songs.

Either way, you knew they were going to be amazing.

You had also already chosen your outfit for the night. Which surprisingly had taken you so long to put together.

Simply because you wanted to look your absolute best tonight.

You searched throughout Twitter for concert inspiration and for any ideas that would help you. You knew fashion. You worked in fashion. You had your own famous fashion line and you still had no idea what to wear to this concert.

You’ve been to plenty of his concerts before. You even remember the outfits you wore to one direction concerts and it secretly made you cringe. Flashbacks of textured shorts and frail crop tops fill your mind.

But now.. now you wanted to surprise him and feel good. It’s been way too long since you had seen Harry's face and you missed him.

So, you did what you do best and you made your own outfit.

You ended up making a black jumpsuit with an amazing sequin fabric which covered every inch of it. It was long enough to pair with your favorite platform heeled boots that were comfy enough to be standing a long period of time in. You made the top of the jumpsuit have a cross neck fixture with a triangle opening right underneath your sternum and you made the back to match.

Now, it was just time for the clock to strike five for you to start to get ready.

So, here you are. Fiddling with your phone to try and pass the time faster.

You hop off the stool and move to your private sunroom in your penthouse that overlooks the river. You bask in the sun on your skin and wonder how tonight will go.

Hopefully everything goes well and Harry’s only expression when he sees you is happiness.

You can only hope.

You tug on your oversized silk blazer as you walk down the backstage hallway of MSG with Jeff by your side.

“Harry might shit himself when he sees you,” Jeff says to you with wild eyes and a loud laugh as you try and match his fast pace down the hall.

You let out your own nervous one as you fix your hair for the millionth time as you follow him.

“Don’t worry. I just might, too.”

You weren’t lying. You genuinely felt sick to your stomach. You had decided to wait until you knew that Harry would already be almost going on to text Jeff that you were waiting at the back entrance for him. Just so he wouldn’t be able to tell Harry you were here.

“The concert already started, but don’t freak. It just started,” Jeff says casually as you start to see the flashing lights from behind the curtain.

You still for a second right before you pass the curtain to let out a shaky breath. Reminding yourself to calm down. That it’s only Harry.

Jeff’s hands are suddenly touching your shoulders and he’s giving you a reassuring smile.

“Don’t be nervous. He’s going to be happy to see you. Trust me.”

You nod quickly and your senses are suddenly filled with loud screams. Thousands and thousands of people screaming for Harry. For your Harry and it makes your heart warm.

You follow Jeff to the side of the main stage behind a barricade, but in perfect view of Harry. And your eyes start to water as soon as you see him.

He’s wearing an adorable white shirt that’s lined with red hearts, black leather figure hugging pants, red sneakers, and a big chunky yellow necklace.

You cover your mouth to hold in your own cry, quickly shaking off the nerves as you settle into the spot next to Jeff, and you zone out as you admire Harry in his zone.

The way the music completely takes over his body and his actions. The way you can tell he lets the music get into his bones by the way he lets it take over and how he dances. The way he lets himself be free in a room filled with people that love him. People that you know he loves. His fans. His wonderful, amazing, love filled fans.

The way he smiles, laughs, and giggles so hard his dimples end up showing. And how he looks so freaking happy it makes you want to burst into tears.

You can easily tell this is his favorite thing to do. Just by looking at him. He’s the type of person that you can just watch and admire because everything he does leaves you in awe.

And that’s exactly how you feel.

Then, at the right moment when he’s prancing around the stage, and running on your side of the stage.. he glances down to look at Jeff and then he sees you.

You both lock eyes at the same time and he trips on his own feet, halting in front of you, and the screaming only intensifies when he breaks out into the biggest smile you’ve seen on him all night.

His hands immediately go to his heart and you see his eyes water as you smile back at him with matching watery eyes. He reaches for you with a small “Hi” leaving his lips and you mouth it back. You can tell he wants to say something else, but he quickly shakes his head with a grin and goes back to dancing around the stage.

You can hear fans calling out your name from around you as now they’ve noticed you. You look around, giving a small wave at the fans near you, and they shriek when you look at them.

You blush under their gazes as it never gets any less weird for you that people actually know who you are. But feeling grateful nonetheless.

Harry makes his way to your corner of the stage after he sings probably the saddest song you’ve ever heard and smiles at you as he settles himself with the microphone stand.

“Now this next song… this next song is incredibly special to me. One of my favorites actually. And…” he pauses and takes in a shaky breath. “The person who inspired this song is actually here tonight.”

The crowd goes wild. Loud cheers surrounding your entire body. You feel lightheaded as you watch Harry on stage.

Watching you.

He gives you a small smile and continues, “This person.. has been my best friend for almost a decade now. We actually met at a Halloween party many many years ago. Her best friend is actually the person I spilled my beer on,” you both chuckle at his words, “I’m getting off track here. But I just want to say that this person is the one person that I absolutely adore. I adore her, I admire her, I respect her, I recognize her, and I love her.” His voice cracks at the last couple of words, his bottom lip quivering and his chin caving in, and tears pool his eyes.

Your eyes are filled with tears at hearing his speech to you and knowing that this is showing his vulnerable side. Which he has always struggled with. You clamp your hands together against your chin as you only smile up at him.

“This is ‘Little Freak’,” he says into the mic as the band starts playing a soft melody.

The first lyrics remind me of the incident in Italy last year and your heart silently hurts. You grip onto the railing in front of you as you listen closely to each lyric.

Finding yourself relating to each word and wanting to pull Harry into your embrace.

Did you dress up for Halloween? I spilled beer on your friend.. I’m not sorry.

You chuckle as you sniffle while slow tears fall down your cheeks and you quickly wipe them away. You watch him in awe as you hear everybody singing along to the lyrics. To a song that came out less than twenty four hours ago.

I disrespected you

Jumped in feet first, and I landed too hard

A broken ankle, karma rules

You never saw my birthmark

Okay. Maybe this is the saddest song you’ve ever heard. Harry holds out the microphone to his fans and gets overwhelmed when they’re singing back his lyrics so loudly. You laugh with joy at how happy he is.

“Thank you so much,” he says into the microphone with his voice wavering, but sounding so grateful.

Just thinkin' about you

He finishes singing the last lyric and he looks over at you with a smile. You smile back with a thumbs up and his dimples show.

The rest of the concert goes by so quickly you can’t even believe it’s been almost two hours since he started.

Every single one of his songs feels connected to you in some way and you wonder if you were in Harry’s thoughts when he wrote this album. You know ‘Little Freak’ is about you since he practically dedicated it to you before he sang it.. but you wonder about the rest.

A part of you doesn’t want to know.

Jeff is by your side as soon as Harry runs off the stage after doing his famous ‘Whale’ and glancing at you quickly.

Jeff wraps his arm around your shoulder, with a smile, he asks, “What’d you think?”

“He’s incredible.”

“That’s our boy.”

You hum in agreement and you both walk off backstage to the chaos that is the loud voices of people congratulating the band and Harry on a brilliant performance.

You stand in the background, watching Harry take each compliment with grace, a shake of each person's hand, and a dimpled smile on his face.

You watch him carefully, bouncing on your heeled boots, heart racing, fingers aching to feel Harry’s skin, and your body trying not to reach for him.

You smile softly when you notice his eyes searching the room and then they land on you. His expression changes to a mix of glowing happiness and absolute joy. He looks like a little kid that just got offered a lollipop at the dentist.

He politely excuses himself from the group he had just thanked and hastily makes his way towards you.

You open your arms to him on instinct, “Hi.”

His arms engulf you into his space, completely tucking you into his body, and you feel complete. His hands wrap around your torso, underneath your blazer, touching your skin, and your arms wrap around his neck. Your faces squeezing into each other’s necks and he whispers a breathy, “Hi.”

You melt into his embrace, smelling his cinnamon roll hair styling crème that he still uses, and it brings back a decade of memories for you. His strong arms squeeze you as he lifts you up off your toes and you can hear him inhaling your scent.

“God, I’ve missed you.”

You chuckle into his neck, “Me more.”

You both pull away at the same time, staring at each other, and you place your hand on his cheek. He leans into it with a small smile, beautiful glossy green eyes staring into yours, and you thumb his cheek.

“I’m sorry, H.” You confess with a soft tone, trying to hold your voice steady while your heart races inside of your chest.

“Don’t apologize. I’m the one that messed up, but.. c’mon.” He wraps his hand in yours, giving Jeff a small signal, and he starts to walk off towards his dressing room.

He leads you into the big dim-lighted room, shutting the door behind you, and locking it for privacy.

You stay in front of him, glancing at him and trying to see if you notice anything different about it.

But he’s still the same Harry. Right in front of you. Finally.

He pulls two cold waters from the mini fridge and hands one to you as he leads you both to the couch. You get comfortable as he kicks off his shoes, leaning into the green couch, and planting his feet on top of the coffee table. You sit back and admire him for a second before drinking some water.

After a moment of silence, he asks, “How have you been?”

“I’ve been good. Missed you tho.”

He smiles as he tucks his chin into his chest, arms crossing over his chest, “I did, too. More than you can imagine.”

“Yeah?” You question, playing with the rings on your fingers, and you look at him from underneath your lashes.

“Come here,” he says as he reaches for your hand. Your insides turn and you let him pull you into his lap. Your breathing hitches as he stares at your face, taking you in, and then his eyes land on your lips.

“Of course I’ve missed you. You’re my best friend,” he whispers into you as he slowly leans in and you close your eyes, waiting for his lips to touch yours.

“Do you still want me?” You blurt out bluntly, your eyes going wide, and you suddenly feel weak. You feel vulnerable. Insecure.

Harry tenses in front of you, his eyes going wide, and he searches for words. But nothing comes out. His eyebrows furr in confusion, “What? How-I… Are you serious? I was about to kiss you..”

You look down, ashamed at your question, and you feel him pull your face back up to meet his own eyes with his thumb.

“How could you ever think I wouldn’t want you?”

His eyes are sincere and full of concern. His body leans into yours, his arms that are holding you only grow tighter, and you wrap your arms around his neck limply.

You lean into his touch and try to smile. Your lips wavering when you say, “I.. I ignored you for months.”

“You had your reasons. I was awful to you. I said mean words to you that I should have taken back as soon as I had spoken them. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

His thumb caresses your cheek as you nod at him.

“I’m still sorry,” you say again as you kiss the inside of his palm.

“I have always wanted you.”

“What?” You say with a grin as he matches your own.

“I, Harry Styles, have always wanted you, Y/N L/N. Ever since the first moment I saw you. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever laid my eyes on and you continue being so.”

You let out a watery laugh as tears prick your eyes, you swat his chest playfully, “Stop! You’re making me cry!” You both laugh together as he places a big smooch on your cheek.

You giggle as he slowly starts to kiss your cheek and makes his way down to your lips.

His hands are holding your face when he leans back and asks you, “Can I kiss you?”

Before you can even finish nodding, his lips are on yours.

His lips feel soft and warm against yours. You both held your breath as he waited for you to respond to his kiss, his lips on yours, but full of hesitation.

You relax into his hands, letting yourself finally kiss him back, and a feeling of euphoria fills your body. You both moan into the kiss, tilting your heads for better access, and you pull at each other to feel closer together. He slides off your blazer and touches your naked arms, moaning at feeling your skin against his own.

Your tongue fights with Harry’s and you suck on his bottom lip with a moan. Your hands moving from the back of his warm neck to his curly hair, tugging at the roots, and filling with content when he groans into your mouth.

Harry lets go of your face and he’s moving your body over his own, adjusting himself onto the couch, and you plant yourself down on his hips. Feeling his hardening bulge against your core makes you feel hot. Your core aching in want and you grind against him.

You both meet again in the middle and kiss, lips lapping against each other, open mouthed moans, and pants filling the room. Slow hips grinding against each other.

In the rush of probably the hottest way you’ve ever kissed someone, he’s suddenly pulling away from your body completely.

Leaving your body aching for his touch and your skin feeling burned as his hands leave your waist.

You’re suddenly filled with confusion, furring your eyebrows, and peering up at H.

“What’s going on? Why’d you stop?” You pant out as you try to catch your breath.

H looks like he’s torn between a million emotions as he clutches his eyes in distress, a heavy breathe escaping his lips, and he’s shaking his head. Then.. he chuckles.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this..”

Your heart stops.

“But.. I don’t want our first time to be like this.”

Oh.

“Oh?” You question with a small smile as you sit up on his lap, adjusting your jumpsuit straps around your neck, and he’s leaning against the back of the couch… looking so adorable.

He looks almost shy right now and he blushes under your gaze.

“Yeah,” he says as he reaches for your hand and you let him. “I want our first time to be special. I want it to be in my bed or yours. And I want it…I just.. I don’t want to fuck you in this dressing room. I mean—“

You cut him off as your cheeks flush down to your neck at his words, “I have an apartment here.”

His eyebrows spike up in shock as he looks simultaneously confused, shocked, and you can tell he’s hurt that he doesn’t know about this major change in your life. You reach for his hand and squeeze it when he immediately grips onto yours. Trying to reassure him with your touch.

“Since when?”

“Fairly recent,” you say with a small smile playing on your sinful lips.

“Where?”

“The Copper,” you say with a glint of enthusiasm and he only matches you. Like always.

“You got an apartment there?” His eyes glint with a look of pride.

“I got the penthouse.”

The second that you both walk into your penthouse, Harry’s mouth and hands are on you. And you’re not complaining.

You throw off your blazer at the same time he kicks off his shoes.

His hands are all over the parts of your skin that isn’t covered and he stops when he finds the clasp around your neck. He swiftly unhooks your jumpsuit and you feel it fall over your shoulders and down your chest. Your breasts are now exposed and you feet the cold air brush against your nipples. Perking them up and making you gasp in pleasure.

He tugs on your jumpsuit which makes it pull around your waist and his hands move onto your breasts. He moans into your mouth when he feels them naked since you’re not wearing a bra or pasties. He thumbs your nipples and you whimper into him, licking the roof of his mouth, and sliding your hands underneath his shirt.

He manages to shove you against your couch and you both tumble on it, giggling into the kiss, and his hands are around your body to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.

You giggle as he kisses you, which only makes him giggle with you, and then you’re laying down on your couch. You pull away from him when you feel him get on his knees in front of you.

He slowly slides his hands underneath your jumpsuit, unzipping your boots, and tossing them to the floor. His eyes are only on you.

You watch him with want as he slips off his shirt, tossing it to the side, and you shimmy out of your jumpsuit. Tugging off your black thong with it.

Harry's lips are on yours again and he’s hungry. Kissing you deeply, his tongue fighting for dominance with your own, both moaning and panting, aching for each other, and he’s reaching down to unzip his pants.

Harry’s hands suddenly are off of your hips and his lips leave your own. You whine as you feel him pull away from you and you quickly open your eyes to watch him as he’s watching you, now sitting on his knees on the couch, and his eyes never leave yours.

He slowly lets his eyes wander down your naked body, fully taking in that this is the first time he’s ever seen you naked, and it makes you ache in ways you’ve never ached before. Makes your skin break out into goosebumps at the mere sight of him taking you in.

He stands up, shoving off his leather pants and his red briefs, and his long, thick dick makes an appearance. Your eyes go wide as you look at him, the first time truly looking at his dick, and your pussy only clenches with desire at the same time your mouth waters with want.

His dick is beautiful. Long, thick, and looking juicy. And waiting to fuck you up. His tip is leaking pre-cum already and it bounces with every movement he makes. He moves back to where he was sitting on his knees on the couch, admiring you as you admire him.

“Fuck,” he mutters out as he wipes his face with his hands before he sets them down on your ankles.

“What is it?” You whisper as you move your legs to open up in front of him, feeling your wetness coat your inner thighs, and he bites his bottom lip. His dick twitching in all its hardened glory. He’s almost fully leaking from the tip of his dick.

“You… are beautiful. Breathtaking.. and this is the first time I see you naked. I just wanna admire you,” he says as he pulls your ankle to his shoulder and kisses your shin. You smile as you let yourself spread out more for him as he starts kissing up your legs slowly and sinfully.

Your breathing hitches as he gets closer to your center, you're already antsy when he stops in your inner thigh, kissing both of them, licking them, and sucking small love bites onto them.

You massage your breasts as you lean your head down to get a better look at him.

“You’re glistening,” he mutters against your thigh, kissing right next to your aching pussy. You can help but moan out in want and anticipation. Your hips are getting a mind of their own as you try to hitch them towards his mouth and his eyes move towards yours.

“So inpatient,” he says as his cold fingers are suddenly touching your wet lips, pulling them open, and he spreads you to his liking.

“Oh my god,” you moan out at the sensation that overcomes your entire body at Harry finally touching you.

He moves himself in between your legs, pushing your thighs down on each side, and he lets his tongue slowly lick your pussy. You clench around him, you can’t fully believe that this is happening right now, and you twist your nipples in between your fingers. You tilt your head back in a pant when Harry slips two fingers inside of you.

“Fuck,” he groans out as he curves his fingers inside of you and your pussy only tightens around them. Your breathing has picked up and you can hear how absolutely drenched you are by the sound his fingers are making as he moves them in and out of your pussy.

Harry seems to only fuel himself more with your moans and panting because you feel him start to devour you. You gasp when you feel his tongue lick you from the bottom of your folds all the way to your clit where he swivels his tongue around it and sucks it into his mouth gently. The bundle of nerves makes the pit of your belly harden in pleasure, your back curving upwards, and your hands move into his curls to hold onto something. Anything.

You moan out his name when his fingers start thrusting inside of you, in and out. In and out. And then he picks up his pace, slightly, but making a big difference in how it fuels your impending orgasm.

His fingers continue to fuck you, his mouth devouring you, and his tongue is torturing you. In every possible way. You know this is going to be the best sex of your life. You know you’ll never be able to move on from this. You hope Harry will feel the same way, too.

His mouth moves skillfully against your pussy, his tongue flicking your clit in all the best ways, and you can feel the pressure slowly building up in your lower stomach.

Harry sucks onto your clit, making your legs start to shake slightly, and he inserts a third finger into you. You cry out in pleasure, your body feeling like it’s on fire, your skin is glistening with sweat, and you start to move your hips to match the pace of his mouth.

He doesn’t stop his movements. He only keeps going. His fingers fucking you like heaven, his moans sending shockwaves through your body, and then.. he moves his tongue into the right spot on your clit which makes you absolutely explode from underneath him.

You yell out his name, so loud that if you actually had neighbors on this floor, you’d be scared they’d come banging on your door for being so damn loud, and your eyes prick with tears from the amazing orgasm that overtakes you.

Your toes curl into the couch, fingers gripping onto his curls, entire body clenching and then releasing as you feel yourself soaking Harry's mouth and fingers, and he’s lapping up every single drop of your release. Moaning as you can see his thighs grinding into the couch.

You don’t even let your body come down from the high when you’re hastily moving from being underneath Harry to being on top of him, straddling him, and kissing him hard. Sucking his lips into yours and moaning when you can taste yourself on his tongue.

You kiss him for a couple seconds before you move down his stomach, licking his butterfly tattoo, sucking a couple love bites on his abs, and letting yourself make eye contact with him the entire time.

His pupils are blown out, lips plump and swollen, cheeks flushed bright pink, and he looks fucked.

“Fuck,” he pants out, his voice raspy and blissed out. And he can’t even react before you’re taking in his aching dick into your mouth. Fully deep-throating him that the tip is curving into the back of your throat. Your eyes water as you keep eye contact with him, your hands holding yourself steady against his fern tattoos, and his hands grip into your loose hair.

“Holy shit! You’re fucking-I-you’re fucking taking me all the way, baby!”

You preen at his words, bobbing your head on his dick, pulling up slowly to let your tongue lap over his tip, sucking off the pre-cum into your mouth, and moaning so that he feels every vibration in your throat on his dick. You can feel his dick twitching in pleasure inside of your mouth and it only fuels you to be better. You pick up your pace, nails digging into his hips, lapping him up, and everytime you go all the way down, you let your tongue lick his balls too.

Harry suddenly pulls your face off his dick and you whimper at the disconnection. You look at him with big, blown out pupils, and a stream of saliva connecting your lips with his dick.

He groans as his hands move down to your breasts, pinching your nipples, and then he thumbs your swollen lower lip to wipe off the mess.

“‘M gonna cum if you keep suckin’ me off like that, honey.” His voice is breathless as he cups your face, pulling you up easily, and connecting your lips with his. Your wet core lands on his fat, aching dick, and you already need him inside of you.

You’re aching for him.

You kiss each other roughly, hands all over each other, and you start hitching your hips higher trying to align yourself with his dick. You can feel his dick fluttering in between your folds, wetting him up even more, and then you feel your opening align with his dick. You shift your hips a little bit more and you feel the head of his dick right where you want him.

You lower down onto his pulsating dick and he groans into your mouth. His hands immediately find your hips, holding you steady as you try to lower yourself more, only being halfway.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight right now. So fucking tight, give me a second..” He moans even louder as he allows you to lower yourself even more until your pelvis meets his own. You steady yourself on his chest, tightening your arms against your breast, and smiling wickedly at Harry’s expression which only shows pleasure.

You slowly start to move against his hips, slowly bouncing on his dick as his tight grip on your hips help you move, and you can feel how desperate he is for you. How much he’s wanted this. How much you’ve been wanting this.

He slowly starts moving his hips underneath you, quickly changing the pace from slow and sultry to fast and rough. The sound of slapping skin fills the entire penthouse, your moans mixing with his own, and your hands are touching him everywhere.

“You feel so good,” you whimper out to him as you lick the curves of his neck as he pulls you into his chest as he hitches his hips to fuck into you like this.

“You were made for me,” he whimpers back as his arms wrap around your waist.

His thrust only increases in speed in this position. His dick filling you up completely, like nobody ever has, touching every inch of your walls, and your wetness only allows him to fuck into you faster.

You feel the familiar feeling building up in your belly, you lick and suck his earlobe, “I’m so close.”

He quickly turns you over, so that your body is laying on the couch now, his dick never exiting you, and now he hitches your legs to wrap around his waist. He presses down against our belly and it only fuels your climax.

“Oh my fuckin’—” you cry out as you feel Harry fucking you hard and him pushing against your cervix seems to increase the sensations.

“Feel me up here, huh?” He groans out as he continues to push into you at a rough speed which you can only nod, feeling absolutely fucked, and he moves his free hand to your clit. Moving his thumb in circles roughly against it which triggers your orgasm.

You clench around his dick, crying out loud, your entire body breaking out into goosebumps, and instant satisfaction floods you. You tighten your legs around Harry, pulling him into you, waiting for him to cum too, and he’s looking like a fucking god above you.

His curls falling around his face, sweat glistening his toned body and his forehead, fucked out, bright flushed pink cheeks, and you don’t know what comes over you…

You reach forward as he fucks you and you place your hand aound his neck, holding the sides, avoiding the center, and his eyes go wide.

His eyes instantly meet yours and his lips part in shock. And you keep moving your body against his, letting him use you completely, and then.. you squeeze around his neck.

His eyes roll back into his head, biting his bottom lip, fucking you rough and hard, and you know he’s about to cum. You squeeze his throat harder and your free hand reaches underneath his neck to tug his curls.

He lets out the loudest, gut-wrenching moan of the night, and his thrusts start turning animalistic, when he yells out, “Fuckkk!!”

He continues to thrust into you as he reaches his peak, filling you up completely, and you both are a panting mess as you both start coming down from your orgasms.

Harry flops onto your chest, but holding himself up with his forearms on your sides. You giggle as you can still feel his dick inside of you, but you wrap your arms around his neck.

He lifts his head, panting, and eyes glistening. He smiles at you, bunny teeth showing, and dimples carving his cheeks.

“That was…” he stops as if he can’t even find the words, but who are you kidding? You can’t either.

“It was,” you agree as you kiss his forehead.

“That was very much long overdue,” he states with a teasing grin and you playfully pinch his forearm. He laughs into your neck before giving you a soft kiss.

“How long are you here for?” You ask, not really wanting to ask, but you know you should.

“I’m here as long as you are.”

You furr your eyebrows in confusion, lips parting with a question, and he shushes you.

“I’m not letting you leave my sight ever again.”

He places a million kisses over your face, you swat him away with giggles, and then hold his face in your hands. Eyes locking.

“Does this mean we’re boyfriend and girlfriend?” You tease.

“Shit, I’d marry you tomorrow if you’d let me.”

Your eyes glint with amusement and so do his.

“Who says I wouldn’t?” You whisper at him, playing with his curls in your fingers. And he attacks you with another million kisses.

You could get used to this.

And you think you just might.

“So, where’s that secret birthmark of yours?”

@that-daydream-look @harrysfolklore @b-reads-things @tbslnightly @noseyrosey1597 @alwayslovingharry @alreadyjackbestfriend @cevansssss @1cedteaa @feestyles @you-sunshine @awesomebooklover17 @aruima

#harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n smut #harry styles x famous!reader #Harry styles x fashion designer!Y/N #harry styles writing #harry styles au #harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic

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27goldensun · 2 years

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Is it worth it? An analysis on Louis’ stunts

Lately there has been a shift in how Louis’ stunts are being presented to the fandom, with babygate mentions growing and seemingly being pushed by Louis himself.

I have taken some time to go over some (very arbitrary) success indicators that could possibly justify this push in stunts as a marketing ploy, however I have only confirmed my suspicions that the fanbase IS NOT HAPPY and that has been translating in Louis’ numbers.

(May I add that I focused more on louis’ relationship with his fanbase and I know that’s not everyone’s definition of success so I also added streaming numbers)

I took my numbers from this website and I looked through late 2021 and 2022 mostly

Starting off, lets look at Louis’ twitter following and activity:

Number of followers

Throughout August, September, October and November 2021, louis gained between 20k and 40k followers each month, those numbers were much higher during the earlier months of 2021, so what could have sparked that change?

The first picture of louis with F in years dropped in August, which happens to coincide with the sudden drop in Louis’ following

In December, the First Christmas BS happened, and that generated a drop in his following (he didn’t actually start losing followers until 2022, but he only gained 4K in December 2021) that would be weird on its on, but paired with the start of his tour (in which his numbers should be increasing much more) it was very obviously correlated.

Now onto 2022, which was quite an eventful year

2022 marked the start of LTWT which was not only an incredible time for preexisting fans could have been a great opportunity to increase his fanbase by giving him more visibility, especially paired up with a new album. We’ll see that this wasn’t the case

The beginning of the year presented Louis with a slow, especially if compared to 2021, but steady raise in following. This drastically changed in July.

The infamous dm leak happened on July 30th 2022 and it greatly impacted the fandom, which was translated into Louis social media following. Looking at it comparatively, in June 2022 he gained 129k followers, in July that number dropped to 26k, showing the impact of those final 2 days. In August, his numbers only continued to drop.

With the album announcement, one could’ve expect a raise in following and activity, but the opposite happened, and I can’t help but link it with the marketing strategy that was chosen, with further mentions of his “personal” life, especially bbg

The promotional interviews began July 2022 still during LTWT and, at first, they were stunt free (with the exception of one Interview on July 21 2022, in which he stumbled when saying F’s name, something he seemed much more comfortable with later on).

September 6, 2022: It is during an interview with Radio Deejay Itália that the mentions truly begin. Louis brings up Freddie unprompted and says he travels to LA often to visit him, from this point forward, the kid is often brought up.

November 2022 we get all those articles saying “louis finds parenting to be challenging”, over 100 copy and paste articles of this nature were posted.

December 2022 the Christmas Bs 2.0 took place, with the kid being flown to the UK and spending around a week there, between Christmas and New Years. The only footage of louis and F interacting was posted on Louis’ birthday, in a short video of the two in a dinner with the rest of the Tomlinsons.

How did this translate in his twitter following? When FITF promo started, Louis only lost followers

August 2022 he lost 7k

September 2022 he lost 33k

October 2022 he lost 24k

November 2022 he lost 29k followers (not good right after an album announcement)

December 2022 he lost 28k followers

January 2023 he lost 43.9k (the most so far)

But did all this only happen to his twitter following? Surely that’s not the only indicator of his success and relationship with his fanbase?

I agree, although louis does seem to use twitter the most when connecting with fans, lets look through his instagram

When FITF promo started, Louis only lost followers

August 2022 he lost 24k

September 2022 he lost 18k

October 2022 he lost 30k

November 2022 he lost 49k followers (not good right after an album announcement)

December 2022 he lost 33k followers

January 2023 he lost 62.8k (the most so far)

Looking at his streaming statistics

(I’m using walls as a comparison for timeline purposes, although im well aware walls promo was far from stunt free, it seems most fans have, understandably, a harder time dealing with bbg than Eleanor)

*Walls debuted at number nine on the US Billboard 200 with 39,000 album-equivalent units

*Faith in the Future debuted at number five on the Billboard 200 selling 43,000 album-equivalent units

So there was obviously an improvement on FITF debut, but has it been consistent since the album release?

The “this is Louis tomlinson playlist” on Spotify

May 2021 The "This Is Louis Tomlinson" playlist reached 250k likes

February 2023 The "This Is Louis Tomlinson" playlist reached 320k likes

Album stream milestones

Walls

Over 100 million streams on Spotify: February 6th, 1 week after its release

FITF

Over 100 million streams on Spotify: December 10th, 1 month after its release

So, overall, the situation does not seem to be improving…

I will later go through his tour sales, but given the different venue sizes this could be a bit tricky

My interpretation of those numbers i presented is that no, it is not worth it. Regardless on your opinion about bbg, from a marketing standpoint this image doesn’t seem to be doing Louis any favors…

(Please feel free to add your thoughts, I’d love to deepen this discussion)

Also, I don’t think any stunt that furthers a queer person’s closeting could ever be “worth it”, this was just my attempt to try to see what could be their motivations for this (although if its commercial success, it’s definitely not working)

#louis tomlinson #babygate #bbg #stunts #analysis #faith in the future #fitf #walls #streams

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sparklypinkflightsuit · 8 months

Text

Predator and Prey: Chapter One

Pairing: Tommy Cahill x Reader

Ongoing Series - Loosely based on ‘Sleeping With the Enemy’

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Minors do not interact, Slow Burn, War Inaccuracies, Mention of PTSD but barely, Stalking, Abuse, Sexual Themes, Alcohol, I think that’s it?

Summary: You move to a small town following a bad breakup around the time Tommy goes to Prison, 3 years later you meet and build a relationship, but will your jealous, angry ex ever really let you go?

Notes: Hiiii! This is my first fic since I was like, 13? So apologies if I’ve missed anything! I’m also UK based trying to write as an American so writing styles and words may differ, but I do try! I just feel like we need more Jake Gyllenhaal fics, and I love a slow burn and some thrills so enjoy! Reblogs and comments welcome :)

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You groaned as your phones alarm clock chimed on your bedside table, the repetitive high pitched dings already putting you in a bad mood for the day.

You slammed your hand on your phone and blindly prodded the screen in the hopes of turning it off, eventually managing to hit the correct spot.

You lay in your dark room, preparing yourself to get up and out of bed for your day of work. It was only Tuesday but it had already been a long week.

After getting dressed, brushing your teeth and hair, and putting on a little bit of makeup, you set out the door. It was still dark out and the only light illuminating the street ahead was from the old street lights that lined the pavement.

The walk to work was only 10 minutes long, but that morning it felt a lot longer, as you couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on you. You turned around to check if anyone was around several times, finding nothing but the odd cat or trash can lining the street.

You eventually made it to work and had enough time to make yourself a cup of coffee before flipping the ‘Closed’ sign to ‘Open’.

The day was slower than normal with very few customers walking into your little book store, which was something you could understand with the town being as small as it was, but you had a few regular book worms who would frequent your shop due to the lack of a library in the area. You bided your time by straightening the shelves and readjusting the pillows on the couches in each of the cosy corners by the windows, counting down the minutes and hours until you could close up and go home to your dog, just to do it all again the next day.

On Wednesday evenings your store played host to a soup kitchen due to the large prep area in the back, as your store was once a small Chinese Restaurant before you bought it. You’d agreed to it being used when your store was closed but soon found yourself volunteering to help chop up vegetables and serve, and you enjoyed it more than you thought you would, making it a recurring Wednesday tradition, so at least tomorrow you’d have something to keep yourself busy with.

It wasn’t all bad though, the time you had on your hands. Most afternoons once you had closed up shop, you’d take your dog, Jet, down to the local park to play fletch. Or you’d catch up on your own reading, or try a new recipe only for it to cost you more than takeout and taste nothing like what you’d hoped. It did get lonely though, with the only family you had living on opposite ends of the country, at times you’d considered moving closer to them, but you’d come to love the little town you’d stumbled across 3 years ago.

You’d only moved here from New York when your breakup with Jason had reached boiling point, with him knowing all of your friends, rumours about you soon spread and it became unbearable to stay. He had started stalking you and had your friends keep tabs on everywhere you went, eventually you even opted to forego all social interactions. You had welcomed the fresh start, and once you’d blocked Jason’s number you could finally begin to move on.

One time he had written you a letter after having found your new address on a piece of mail with your forwarding address attached, which somehow made its way to your old apartment instead. The letter was full of threats, demeaning words and also promises of a better life if you returned, but you dismissed these as empty threats, threw away the letter and got on with creating your new life.

You were just about to close up shop early, when the ding of the bell above the door sounded. You turned around to see a tall, dark haired man with a buzzcut, white t-shirt and a brown jacket walk in. You noticed a small tattoo on his neck.

“Hi, are you after anything specific?” You asked with a small smile, trying not to seem overbearing.

The man smiled politely, but didn’t maintain eye contact for long, and went back to scanning the low shelves near the front door.

“No I’m fine, thank you though.” He said. His voice was deep and gruff, and his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

“Okay, just let me know if you need anything.” You smiled back, and turned back to the counter where you were organising receipt rolls and pens. You hated it when you went into a store to browse and the staff lingered, so had never done this to your own customers, giving them space.

After a minute or two, the man cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Actually, sorry, yeah. I’m after a book on PTSD, like how to manage it and stuff, do you have anything like that?” He said, rubbing the back of his head as he looked up at you sheepishly.

Oh, perhaps he was one of those army guys, who had seen some horrible things in the war.

“Uhh, yeah we do actually. It’s just overrr…. Here!” You said walking over to a shelf on the left of the store, under the “self help” section.

“We only have the one though, I’m not sure if it will be much help?” You said handing him the book.

“Thanks.” He said, taking the book and scanning over the cover, “It’s not for me.” He added, looking awkward.

“Say no more.” You smiled and laughed a little to ease the tension he may have been feeling.

You walked back to the counter and waited for the man to follow. He took out a twenty dollar bill and waited for you to ring up how much the book would cost. You thought for a moment, and decided to do your one good thing that day.

“Uhh…. It looks like we don’t actually have the book in our system, and no price is showing up, I guess it’s free.” You lied, laughing lightly and pushing his twenty back to him.

The man thought for moment and looked you in the eye. “You really don’t need to do that, I promise the book’s not for me anyway. It’s for my brother.” He shrugged.

“Well then I guess your brother gets a free book.” You smiled, putting the book in a paper bag and handing it to the man.

He smiled, a genuine and slightly crooked smile, and thanked you. He took one last look at you and went to head out the door.

“Wait!” You called suddenly, your bravery getting the best of you. He turned around.

“I haven’t seen you around before, are you local?” You asked.

“Yeah… I’ve been away for a while. My names Tommy.” He smiled.

“Nice to meet you Tommy. I’m (Y/N), hope to see you around.” You smiled back, and turned to go back to your tidying.

Tommy left feeling happier than he had in a while. He hadn’t had a friendly encounter with the towns folk since coming out of prison, or with his family since Sam came back from Afghanistan and the news had come out that he and Grace had kissed.

Tommy didn’t have feelings for Grace, not real feelings anyway, and he realised this once Sam returned. Tommy chalked it up to the grief they both felt having thought he had died, as well as the happiness he felt when he was in a family environment. No, the only feelings Tommy had for Grace now were guilt, and he struggled to be around them.

He had decided to buy a book on how to manage PTSD so he knew how to handle Sam, who was due to come home from his stay at the psychiatric unit. Tommy felt sad that things had become so hard for Sam, and he was determined to not make things any worse.

Your act of kindness towards Tommy had turned a bad day around, and as he drove home that evening, he couldn’t help but think about the warm smile and beautiful eyes that he found at the little bookstore on the corner.

You had just closed up the shop, and began to walk home as the light dipped behind the horizon, casting the sky in a blue haze, the street lights had since flickered on and you watched your shadow grow large and then small as you passed under each one. Jet’s dog walker would have left around 3 hours ago and you bet he’d be itching for another walk, so hurried as fast as you could.

About a block from home you stopped suddenly as your breath caught in your throat and your heart sped up. You could hear footsteps close behind, and the they were closing the gap between you quickly. You spun around prepared to come face to face with an attacker or someone hoping to snatch your measly purse, but were met with an empty sidewalk dimly lit by street lamps and lined with trees.

You strained your eyes for any movement, but eventually convinced yourself you were being paranoid, and speed walked the rest of the way home, only letting your breath go once you were safely inside and you had locked your door.

———————

-Chapter Two Here-

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal gif #quentin beck #character: elwood dalton #david loki #gyllenhaaledit #jake gyllenhaal gifs #jacob gyllenhaal #jacob benjamin gyllenhaal #donnie darko #jack twist #pilot kelson #jake gyllenhaal x reader #Tommy Cahill x reader

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ivesambrose · 1 year

Text

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ June Mini Messages ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

1. 2. 3.

Apologies for being MIA for the past month. May was rather overwhelming but let's intend June does a complete 180 🤍

Indepth Month ahead reading slots open for $20 only 🌼

DM or email me at [email protected] to book

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Gif 1

The central theme for you this month is to spend time around those who keep you afloat.

It's also important for you to assess how you feel around, during and post interacting with some people, places, information and situations.

Additionally stay hydrated this month.

Infact your body might crave more fluids in the form of soups, smoothies, juices etc

Expect new friends who are more supportive and compassionate towards you given you return the same energy.

Some of you may be starting a business or work of some sort or maybe even investments. Might be slow initially but will be successful in the long run.

Anything that you have started with determination towards the middle or end of May or the very start of June will pay off by the end of this month. This could be something very physical related goal either body, health, studies of any kind, business, finances, creating something tangible etc

You might feel indecisive in regards to something this month. Go within for clarity you don't have to have to make the choice till you're sure. Alternatively, priotrize meditation and detachment instead of overconsuming media or information.

By the end of this month you'll feel more confident in yourself and your leadership qualities, more stable in your health and life aswell. Might even get a tattoo that means something to you.

Gif 2

Relationships is the central theme. Be it romantic, platonic, familial, interpersonal and self.

There is grief here that you have been suppressing and carrying. You may resort to comforting yourself with food for this.

Some of you might have gone through or will be going through some inevitable endings. Although rough will make room for the fresh start that you have been avoiding because the old felt too comforting.

You'll see a silverlining in your circumstances. Infact if you've been going through a sense of loss and disappointment for a long time this will finally come to an end. Some past traumas and experiences might mentally resurface for you so you can acknowledge and heal yourself as well as your inner child. Infact, this will be an excellent month to cater to your inner child the most. You deserve joy.

There will come a time you'll start feeling at peace. Some of you might even start getting proper 7 - 8 hrs of sleep.

You'll realize any form of supression and isolation that you've been feeling is mostly mental. But soon enough you'll break free from it too.

By the middle of June things will start speeding up as you feel more lively and renewed. Allow yourself to move forward, things aren't stagnant as they may have been.

Gif 3

Perfecting the balancing act in your life is the central theme this month. You're a great multitasker but for this month fixate on what's been you're calling for the longest time.

For a lot of you it's been all work and no play or you stretching yourself too thin trying to cater to strangers or people who take too much from you. You'll be pushed to drop it.

There is something that will bring you financial reward. Enjoy it without guilt.

You'll be priotrizing your success. It's all a matter of focus. 'I am successful' not, 'I'm working towards my success.' it's time you realize you can't constantly treat yourself as a 'work in progress' for so long that you end up associating yourself with the narrative permanently.

More focus on aesthetics and personal style too this month. Followed by team work and proper partnerships.

Keep some things personal to you not everyone has the best of intentions.

For some of you, there's someone who admires you deeply but you can't seem to open up or trust them even though they mean well. Give them a chance.

You'll be mastering your emotions and channeling them into creativity.

By the end of June you'll see that the universe has been looking out for you all along. Something unexpected that makes you enthusiastic and allows you to be free spirited. Seize that chance and let it take you where you've desired to be.

#free readings #tarot community #divination community #pick a card #pac #pick a picture #pick a card reading #tarot reading #tarot witch #tarotblr #divination #psychic readings #Pick a card readings

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dix0nvix3n · 2 months

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➳જ⁀➴ 𝕯𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖗'𝖘 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖌 ⟡ [𝔏𝔞𝔰𝔱 𝔘𝔭𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔡: 7/25/24]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔩 ℑ𝔫𝔣𝔬:

𓆩⚝𓆪 I'd rather not reveal my real name here so please call me Dagger.

𓆩⚝𓆪 I'm genderfluid and my pronouns are they/he/she.

𓆩⚝𓆪 I'm 22.

𓆩⚝𓆪 Even though I'm genderfluid anything I write the reader will always use she/her pronouns but potentially I may be able to write for a gender-neutral reader.

𓆩⚝𓆪 I'm a big time rambler/yapper so please dm me any time you wanna talk! (Please know that I'll often forget to respond or go through periods of time I can't talk though.)

𓆩⚝𓆪 I'm autistic and have an ADHD riddled mess of a brain which is the core factor of why I write so slow along with me being new to writing and not grasping it easily so please be patient with me. Trust that I have several wips at all times that I can never finish.

𓆩⚝𓆪 Another part of being neurodivergent makes it so that I have a harder time interacting with people here. I often don't reblog and sometimes I won't even like a post because I feel like I'm bothering the person who made the post somehow. My brain isn't very nice to me. I'm trying to get past this but it's hard.

𓆩⚝𓆪 I currently only write for Daryl Dixon from The Walking Dead and Scud Frohmeyer from Blade 2 but I hope to write for other characters Norman has played some day.

𓆩⚝𓆪 My fics will always come with a warning description of some kind and if l ever miss something you think should be in the warning, please let me know!

𓆩⚝𓆪 I post edits @ daryldixonvixen on tiktok, if you're also an editor please tell me and I'll follow you!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝔉𝔲𝔫 𝔉𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔰:

𓆩⚝𓆪 My favorite TWDverse ship isn’t even from TWD, it’s actually John and June from Fear The Walking Dead and my favorite Non Canon TWD ship is RosiTara. I don’t ship Daryl with anyone probably cause of how attatched I am to him so don't expect to see any ship posts. (Your ship opinions are valid though so don't come bringing ship discourse to my page. I hate Bethyl though and if I see you supporting the ship it's an instant block from me.)

𓆩⚝𓆪 I have 10 piercings. Septum, right eyebrow, a daith, a conch, a bridge, four helixes, and a left nostril.

𓆩⚝𓆪 I first watched The Walking Dead at a themed birthday party for it when I was in 7th grade when I was 13, we watched the whole first season and I wanted to continue watching once I got home but I couldn't find any way to watch it so I didn't end up watching again until December of 2022 when I was 20. The only things I could remember from when I first started watching were Glenn and the horse dying lmao. The show forever changed me and has become a major source of comfort for me and became my special interest, I'm just so mad it took me so long to watch more of the show.

𓆩⚝𓆪 I don't understand zodiacs too much but I'm a Cancer Sun, Scorpio Moon, and a Capricorn Rising.

𓆩⚝𓆪 My current hair style was inspired by Scud since I loved his hair so much!

𓆩⚝𓆪 How Daryl would help you on your period

𓆩⚝𓆪 Trimming Daryl's hair blurb

𓆩⚝𓆪 Convincing Daryl to wear reading glasses to help with his squinting

𓆩⚝𓆪 Music Daryl Dixon would listen to but it's accurate spotify playlist

𓆩⚝𓆪 Daryl running from the cops from a house party blurb/ inspired by Killing In The Name by Rage Against The Machine

𓆩⚝𓆪 Murphy Macmanus speaking multiple languages when dirty talking to you

𓆩⚝𓆪 Piercings that Scud would look good with ramble

𓆩⚝𓆪 Daryl with a reader who has multiple piercings

𓆩⚝𓆪 My Travis chai bot

𓆩⚝𓆪 The Summer of 1992 and What Came Before and After (Will be putting a link to a new masterlist for the series here instead at some point.)

𓆩⚝𓆪 Daryl and Norman Lightroom edits 1

𓆩⚝𓆪 Daryl and Norman Lightroom edits 2

𓆩⚝𓆪 Daryl, Sandman edit

𓆩⚝𓆪 Daryl, Blue Monday edit

𓆩⚝𓆪 Murphy, Carnival edit

𓆩⚝𓆪 Scud, Can't Get You out of My Head edit

𓆩⚝𓆪 Multiple Norman characters, Hotel Motel edit

𓆩⚝𓆪 To see any of my various shitposts go into my search under the tag ;daggershitposts📣

𓆩⚝𓆪 And here's a Daryl and me face reveal moodboard. This is probably the only place here on my account where I'll show my face. This really shows why I wrote the reader from The Summer Of 1992 and What Came Before and After as alternative cause I myself am alternative!

#divider by animatedglittergraphics-n-more #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x reader smut #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon x you #scud frohmeyer x reader #scud frohmeyer x reader smut

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karniss-bg3 · 1 year

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What do you think Kar'niss would do if he survives the death of the Absolute and all? With everything over and we'll say that he is by Tav's side until the end as well. Would he worship Tav as another kind of god/goddess, or... something else?

Hm this is an interesting question because there are so many variables at play. With the way Larian has structured the game it seems like all companions have the ability to shift toward good or evil. Of course I've not done a playthrough with Karlach, Wyll and Laezel in my party from start to finish but it's in the works. I know they can dip if Tav pisses them off too much but for the sake of ease, I'll just assume basic good versus evil. Act 3 spoilers head.

Good Ending: At first Kar'niss would've been very hesitant to join Tav and friends, likely even violent. It'd probably take a high persuasion roll to get him into your party. Tav just destroyed those he was loyal to, after all. The artifact could do well to block the tadpoles influence but Kar'niss' shattered mind is a different kettle of fish entirely. I imagine the first interactions with him would be aggressive and stand-offish. After all he was just ripped away from his new home and lost his "Queen". He's likely feeling disjointed, scared and a bit lonely without "Her" voice to bring him comfort. It'll be up to Tav to replace the Absolute's voice with their own. Not only that, but Tav could give Kar'niss healthy love and attention, help break through those years of abuse and build his confidence. It would be slow going because he has so little self worth and trust.

Then there is the matter of him being a drider. I don't think Kar'niss would want to stay in that shape, he likely longs to be a full drow again. That begs the question, does Tav find a way to transform him back or let him stay a drider? Since Tav controls the narrative it'll be up to them on if he switches back. To my knowledge the only way to undo a drider transformation is a wish spell which does exist in the BG3 universe. There could be other ways if Larian wanted to keep it simple but assuming Tav somehow finds someone with a spare wish spell then perhaps that is how he is changed back.

At the end, if Tav works toward this goal, Kar'niss would find more of his own voice. His confidence would grow and he'd learn to stand on his own rather than mindlessly following others at the drop of a hat. He'd be able to think critically and make choices not influenced by whispers in his ear. In other words, he'll -choose- to stay with Tav rather than feel he's obligated to. I don't think his mind will ever fully heal, it's taken too much damage to come back from the torture he's been through. Tav helps keep him grounded though, working with his short comings rather than against it. If Tav romances him then Kar'niss laments in the final cutscene: "When you found us--me, I was in a fog. My body moved as if controlled by magic, but I was not the one commanding it to do so. From the Underdark to Moonrise I played a pawn for the sake of someone else's power. I thought I was doing the right thing, I believed it in the very depths of my heart. They would've condemned me to death and, mind controlled as I was, I would've marched into the sword with my head held high. Not only do I owe my life, I owe my very mind to your aid. I was nearly forever lost, thank you for seeing more in me than an irredeemable monster. I want to remain by your side anywhere the winds take us. I love you."

Bad Ending: While not requested I figured I’d write it up for the sake of curiosity. It starts very similarly except Tav uses their tadpole to overwhelm Kar'niss with authority. Tav may even convince Kar'niss that they are the physical embodiment of the Absolute to keep his compliance throughout. Kar’niss is more agreeable at the start due to this, devout and eagerly awaiting commands. The more Tav chooses to cater to his psychosis rather than break him from it he becomes even more unhinged overtime. There may even be exchanges where Kar’niss seems to talk to himself and ignore Tav completely from time to time. He’s lost to the voices in his mind and the fervent beliefs that have followed him for sometime. When he does have moments of clarity his focus is on doing the Absolute’s will. It’s an obsession and he seems to want to talk about little else. Tav could romance Kar’niss during this time but something may feel off about the interaction. Kar’niss will worship Tav, do anything that is asked, but there is a sense that he is doing so out of blind devotion rather than true affection. It’s empty. His love is tainted by a belief and trust born from deception.

As their journey nears its end, Kar’niss’ mental state has declined to a point where his speech breaks in the middle of conversations. He may zone out and some of his party interactions out in the wild could cease altogether. He’ll refer to Tav as “Majesty” and little else. The perfect obedient pet. Assuming Tav goes with the ending to destroy the Absolute then that fogs up Kar’niss’ fate a bit. I don’t think the other endings allow a romance cutscene to play at the end but I could be wrong. I haven’t tackled them all just yet so I’ll stick with the tadpole annihilation ending here. Even though the tadpoles are gone Kar’niss’ mind is well and truly fucked. Any sense of self has been all but destroyed, leaving nothing behind but a temperamental fanatic in a worse state than Tav found him in. Any use of the word ‘I’ to refer to himself has dropped from his speech completely.

“Majesty, w-we survived. Have we done well? Our devotion is unending for you. Tell us where we shall go and it will be done. We have never known such bliss, such comfort. Our pledge to you will never falter so long as we still draw breath. You need more followers, an army fit for a God/Goddess, and we will provide it Majesty. Just...don’t forget about us. We are still your favorite, yes we are...no one else can love you like us. NO ONE ELSE! Our love for you knows no limits, we will give you everything you desire. We are ready to march by your side, to the ends of the world.”

These are just two of MANY possible outcomes for poor Kar’niss. I think Larian would make his bad ending tenfold worse than I could ever conceive and that will haunt my nightmares for sometime.

Sorry this is so long, my mind wouldn’t shut up. I hope this answers your question. Thanks for the ask!

#baldur's gate 3 #kar'niss #drider #bg3 #karniss #baldurs gate 3 #answered #long post #I got on this train of thought and before I knew it I had two pages of word vomit typed out #whoops #act 3 spoilers

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incandescentlysomething · 6 months

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Lady of the Ashes: Chapter 9

House of the Dragon Season 1

Aemond x TargaryenOC

Chapter Word Count: 5523

She was his everything… For her…he would do anything.

From the moment of her birth, Aemond Targaryen swore himself to the protection of his niece Aelinor Velaryon. As the two grew up inseparable, they find themselves entangled in the Dance of Dragons, battling to stay together even as their families try to pull them apart.

A/N: Started a new job this week so things have slowed down a bit! Only three chapters left!! Thanks for reading! Cross posted on A03

Let me know what you think!

Masterlist A03

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 P.1 P.2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Aelinor did not come back to herself until after the King had been carried away, his moans of pain swallowed by the din of the crowd. Luc had her by the hand, pulling her along as they all hurried from the hall.

“It is an outrage, Mother!” Jace was protesting. “He cannot just give Aelinor—”

“Yes,” Rhaenyra cut him off, one hand rubbing her stomach. “He can. And he has. Now we must find a way forward.”

“Don’t worry, Sister.” Luc squeezed her hand. “We’ll fix this.”

“I don’t think that this is a thing to be fixed, Luc.”

They pushed through the main doors, and out into the corridor when they became aware of people following them.

“Aelinor!” Aemond was pushing through the crowd, his brother at his side.

Aelinor paused, starting to turn. She needed to speak with him. He was probably the only person in the world that she wanted to speak to at this moment.

Gods above, they were betrothed . Her mind had not quite wrapped herself around what that meant. To think only a few hours before she had been celebrating her brothers’ betrothals, and now she had one of her own.

She supposed that it had always been somewhat of a possibility. Aemond would certainly never have been an option in her mother’s mind, but as the daughter of the Heir, Aelinor had always known that she would be betrothed to some lord somewhere, if she did not end up marrying Jace. She had once even heard rumors that many years ago, when things were better between their families, that Rhaenyra had suggested marrying her to Aegon. All of these options had seemed impossible and distant to Aelinor, a series of mediocre options when she knew there was only one person in the world who she cared for enough to marry.

And now, thanks to her grandfather, it was a reality.

“Aelinor!” Aemond shouted again.

She stopped, facing him as he came to a stop in front of her. He was breathing heavily, his eyes alight with something she didn’t recognize. His gaze slid from hers, down to where Luc held her hand, and then over her shoulder. She glanced back, surprised to see Prince Daemon standing directly behind her. Something passed between the two men, something that sent a chill through Aelinor’s veins.

“We should talk.” She said quietly, drawing Aemond’s focus back to her.

She half expected him to reject her, to meet her with the same hostility that he had held when they spoke before the trial. But she needed to speak to him, to find out how he felt about all of this. Aemond wasn’t one to appreciate having his life chosen for him, and she worried that he may resent her for the King’s announcement.

“Yes, we do.” He nodded. “Perhaps we should—”

“Aelinor,” Luc tugged on her hand. She was very aware of just how many people were watching this interaction, and she very desperately did not want to have this conversation with an audience.

“Aelinor, we need to go.” Jacaerys was at her other side, pulling on her arm.

She gave Aemond an apologetic look. “Perhaps we can—”

But Aemond was sneering at her brother. “I have a right to speak to my betrothed.”

“You have no right!” Jacaerys shouted.

“She isn’t your anything!” Luc protested.

“Can we well just—” Aelinor begged, trying to pull Jacaerys back as he stepped forward.

“Children!” She had never been so grateful to hear her mother’s voice. “Enough, all of you.”

Rhaenyra came to stand between them, casting a long glance over Aemond. “The King has requested a dinner this evening, Prince Aemond. You can speak then. As it is, my family and I will retire to our chambers.”

She watched Aemond clench his jaw, clearly unwilling to contradict the Princess when they were surrounded by so many other people.

“Mother,” Aelinor said gently, managing to shake free of Jace’s grip and reach for her hand. “Perhaps Aemond could walk me back? We’d only be a few minutes behind.”

“Absolutely not.” Jacaerys said. “It would be—”

“That will be fine, Aelinor.” Her mother acquiesced. “But do not take too long.”

She gave her mother a grateful smile, and the one Rhaenyra offered made her appreciate her mother all the more. Even though she did not want to, she was listening to what Aelinor wanted, giving her some of the control in this situation. It was more than most parents would offer.

“I won’t.” She promised.

Rhaenyra took Jace by the arm, leading her family away. Aelinor was left surrounded by nobles, a seething Aemond at her side.

“Arm.” She hissed.

“What?” He looked confused.

“Offer me your arm.” She repeated.

Snapping back to awareness, Aemond quickly offered his arm. She looped her own through his, wrapping both of her arms around his as they started to walk. There were appearances to keep up, after all.

Once they were walking, the nobles fell away, not bold enough to be so obvious in their eavesdropping.

“Well,” She began. “That was eventful.”

“Are you alright?” Aemond asked. “Those things he said, and your…Prince Daemon…that can’t have been easy for you to see.”

No it hadn’t been. Aelinor could handle being called a bastard and a whore, and would much rather that those insults be directed at her than at her mother or brothers, but she had never seen someone die before. She had certainly never seen someone be cleaved through the head. But that wasn’t what she wanted to spend her time with Aemond talking about.

“Grandfather’s announcement,” She looked up at him. “Did you know?”

“No,” He gave the answer she had expected. “I have not spoken to my father in….in a long time. I don’t think anyone knew what he intended.”

“No, certainly not.” Aelinor sighed. “I thought my mother was going to faint.”

“I wouldn’t have blamed her.” Aemond’s steps were slowing, trying to draw out their time together before she was returned to her family. “Lina…it’s…”

She could not bear to hear his rejection, which was surely coming. “I do not know what I thought he was about to proclaim. He could have been betrothing me to a Baratheon for all I knew, or gods forbid, a Lannister.”

Aemond tensed. “That wouldn’t have been…ideal.”

“No,” She dipped her chin. “I’m sorry, Aemond.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He said stiffly. “I’m certain this was not what you wanted either.”

Either . He did not wish to marry her. He had all but said it outloud, and she felt her heart crack a little bit.

But Aemond was still speaking. “Having our betrothal be announced as a political machination, after bloodshed was never what I wanted for you.”

They were nearly at Aelinor’s family’s chambers, and she slowed nearly to a stop. “What are you saying? I thought you were unhappy to be betrothed. You looked…honestly you looked horrified when your father announced it.”

“I was horrified,” Aemond turned, grabbing his hand in hers. “I was horrified for that terrible moment when I thought you were being promised to another.”

“Oh?” She breathed.

“I have never truly imagined myself as having a wife,” Aemond said. “But I think…if the idea ever did enter my mind, there was no one I would have pictured but you.”

Aelinor let out a shaky exhale. “Truly?”

He squeezed her hands. “Truly. And it is I who must apologize to you.”

“What for?” Her mind was still reeling, trying to process what he was saying.

“I was harsh with you, this morning, and you did not deserve it.”

Aelinor gave a small laugh. “You were upset. For reasons I still do not know, and which I intend to uncover.”

He looked troubled. “It should not concern you.”

She clicked her tongue. “It will always concern me when you call yourself a monster, Aemond. You are not capable of being a monster.”

His eyes darkened. “I’m capable of a lot of things.”

“But never that.” She believed that wholeheartedly. Aemond might be prickly at times, he might be quick to anger and a bit too rash, but he could never be monstrous. “As it is, we have bigger things to worry about.”

“Yes, you do.” A voice spoke from behind them, and they both turned to see Jace and Luc standing there.

“Oh, would you two just leave me be?” Aelinor groaned.

“Sorry, little sister.” Jace shook his head. “Mother’s orders.”

She sighed, turning back to Aemond. “Well, I guess there is no arguing with that. Will I see you at dinner?”

“Of course.”

She gave her a small smile before reluctantly dropping his hand and walking away. As soon as she was within reach of her brothers, Luc linked arms with her. She caught both of them looking behind her, but when she turned Aemond was quickly walking away.

“What was that?” She asked. “Did you say something?”

“Nothing, Sister.” Jace placed a hand on her back. “Come, we have much to discuss.”

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

The sight of family gathered in the parlor, solemn expressions on their faces, was enough to force Aelinor to push all thoughts of her conversation with Aemond from her mind. Her mother was seated on a couch, a cup in her hand and a frown on her face.

“Are you well, Mother?” Aelinor shrugged off her brothers and sat down. “That was a great deal of excitement for you and the babe.”

She leveled a glare at her father, who leaned against the window frame. “I’m sure the impromptu decapitation did not help.”

“His insults were not be borne,” Daemon said. “Or are you so soft that you thought we should let him go on his merry way.”

“Of course he deserved to die,” Aelinor said, meaning every word. Vaemond had questioned her brothers’ legitimacy in front of the entire court. It was treason. “I only think that there was perhaps a more…polite way to do it.” Her father gave her a curious look, as if he were trying to figure out exactly what she was thinking.

“Though perhaps not so effective.” Rhaenyra sighed. “Aelinor, did you have any idea about this…this betrothal?”

“No!” She exclaimed. “No, of course not.”

“Then where would my father get this idea?” Rhaenyra asked, looking to Daemon, who just shrugged.

Aelinor felt her blood run a bit cold as she remembered her conversation with her grandfather the night before. Well, conversation may be slightly overstating the exchange. She had begged aloud for a solution, and she thought he had been in too much pain to hear her, let alone answer. But perhaps he had heard her. Perhaps this betrothal was his answer to her pleas. A way of bringing their families back together.

“It is madness,” Rhaenyra was saying. “Am I to leave my eldest daughter in this pit of snakes? Are we to take Aemond back with us to Dragonstone?”

Daemon shook his head. “She will stay here, with his family. That’s how these things work.”

“It can’t be!” Jace protested. “I’ll…you can’t leave her with Aemond. He’s dangerous.”

“He is not!” Aelinor exclaimed.

Rhaenyra gave him a questioning look. “I know the incident with Vhagar has left its mark on you, but that was many years ago. I admit Aemond is a little wild, and almost certainly under her mother’s thumb, but why would you say that he is dangerous?”

Aelinor tried to silently plead with Jace, begging him to keep the secret, but he just shook his head and pulled aside the collar of his tunic. “He did this to me. Last night, over an imagined insult.”

Rhaenyra gasped, holding one hand to her chest. “He attacked you?”

Aelinor stood, her fists clenching at her side. “Jacaerys!” She cried. “That is not the truth of it. He may have overreacted but he’s…he’s protective of me. And it was not an imagined insult.”

“What is this insult?” Luc asked, looking thoroughly confused.

Aelinor spoke before Jace could offer his interpretation of events. “Aemond felt that the announcement of Jace and Luc’s betrothals were a slight against me. There were some people gossiping at the ball, and things just got out of hand.”

“So he was defending you…against your brother?” Rhaenyra clarified, her face softening a bit.

“Exactly,” Aelinor said. “And I have already spoken to him about it.”

“It is because I am your brother that I cannot allow this to proceed!” Jace was still arguing, and Aelinor wanted to stomp on his foot. “What if the next misunderstanding lands Aelinor at his mercy? And gods forbid she have a run in with Aegon. Do you know the things they say about him? Would we expose Aelinor to that violence?”

“I am not a child!” Aelinor protested. “I can handle Aegon. And Aemond would never hurt me. Besides, we cannot disobey the King.”

“To hell with that!” Jace shouted. “I am your brother! I’ll challenge him, if that's what it takes, but you will not marry him.”

“It isn’t your decision!” Aelinor shouted back.

“No, it isn’t.” Daemon’s voice was low, such a jarring change from their own that both Aelinor and Jace turned to look at him.

Daemon picked a piece of lint from his sleeve. “Do you object to marrying Prince Aemond, Aelinor?”

She gaped for a moment. “I don’t…what do you mean?”

“It’s a fairly simple question. Do. You. Object?”

Aelinor’s silence was answer enough.

“That will be quite enough of that,” Rhaenyra sighed. “Whatever our feelings on this arrangement may be, there is not a solution to be found today. We must prepare for dinner this evening. And you all must be on your best behavior.”

“Do you intend to voice your objection?” Aelinor asked quietly.

Her mother leveled her with a long look. “Do I intend to argue with my bedridden father? Or to sow discord during a family meal? No, I do not. As I said, this will not be solved tonight.”

“So we’re just supposed to go to dinner?” Luc asked, incredulous. “And what…not address it?”

“Exactly.” Rhaenyra said. “We will not address it beyond what is required to make polite conversation.”

Her tone ended the conversation, and Aelinor sank back onto the chaise as her mother and father left the room. No doubt there had been too much excitement to be good for the babe, and there was certain to be more excitement to come at the dinner that evening.

“Are you alright, Aelinor?” Luc perched on the armrest, reaching out to play with the ends of her hair.

She gave a heavy sigh. “I don’t know, Luc.”

“Well everything is going to be alright,” Jace was pacing by the window. “Because you aren’t going to marry him.”

“Can you just stop talking?” Aelinor begged. “Please?”

“Sister, he is dangerous ,” Jace glared at her. “I know you think I am being harsh, but I care for you too much to see you married to him. It would be the same if you were married to some Dornish savage or a Northman who bathes in blood. I would protect you.”

“Aemond does not bathe in blood , Jacaerys,” Aelinor shook his head. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“He will hurt you.”

Aelinor was growing tired of having the same argument, and she tilted her head back against the cushion.

Luc ran his fingers through her hair, his ministrations serving to calm the tension boiling through her body. “This is a pretty hair bauble, Sister. Where did you get it?”

Aelinor lifted a hand, feeling the dragon pin on the back of her head. “Oh, that. Prince Daemon gave it to me this morning.”

“Isn’t it Valyrian steel?” Luc asked.

“I believe so.”

“What?” Jace strode toward them. “Why is Prince Daemon giving you Valyrian steel trinkets?”

“Good gods, Jace,” Aelinor jerked away when he reached for it. “It’s like I’m five years old again. Tell me, is it a natural instinct to snatch away anything I might have, or is it a conscious choice? Would you like to toss this into the hearth as well?”

A shocked silence met her words, and when she looked up she saw Jace drawing his hand back to his chest, guilt in his eyes.

“You know I…I have never meant to hurt you, Sister.” He said quietly.

“I know.” She gave him an apologetic smile. “I did not mean that. As obtuse and idiotic as you often are, I have never questioned your affection for me.”

“Which is second only to mine,” Luc teased.

Aelinor snorted. “Oh certainly. There is no contest there.”

Jace rolled his eyes. “You two are insufferable.

Aelinor tilted her head forward and let Luc play with the pin, shaking her hair free when he finally pulled it out.

“Why did Prince Daemon give this to you?” Luc asked.

Aelinor’s breath caught in her throat. She had often wondered if her brothers knew the truth of her parentage, if they knew that neither Laenor Velaryon nor Harwin Strong was her father. Some days she thought it was too obvious for them not to know, and other days she prayed that they never discovered what she felt in some ways to be a double betrayal. The man who raised her was not her father, nor was the man who had carried her about the palace when she was young. Ser Harwin had kept her cradled in a single arm, never wavering no matter how long he held her, carrying her from room to room to distract her in those first weeks after her hand was burned. And Ser Laenor had always been waiting for her when she returned to their family’s chambers, a plate of stolen sweets and a tale of his father’s seafaring ready to distract her from the pain. Those men, she believed, had loved her. They had loved her brothers.

But neither of them were her father.

“I don’t know,” She lied to Luc. “It’s pretty, though.”

They were silent for a long moment, all of them reeling from the morning and trying to come to terms with what was next.

“I will not cease to object,” Jace began slowly, holding up a hand when Aelinor opened her mouth. “But I will not challenge him.”

“You won’t?”

“Unless he hurts you,” Jace said sternly. “But if you are choosing to be so foolish, then you will have my support. As you always do.”

“Dear Brother,” She held out a hand, which he took in his own. “Thank you.”

Jace just huffed, looking slightly put out by her display of affection.

“It’s not like the Aemond we know would ever hurt Aelinor,” Luc added. “He might have always been an arse, but he wasn’t cruel.”

Jace pulled aside his collar, pointing to the bruising.

“As I said, he’s an arse.” Luc snorted. “Perhaps you should have put up a better fight.”

“Oh quiet, both of you!” Aelinor protested. “He isn’t an arse now, and he wasn’t then.”

“He’s an arse.” They said together.

“You’re both arses.” She stood, retrieving her hair pin from Luc’s grip. “Now, I intend to get some sleep, and prepare for what I shall pray will be a quiet family dinner.”

“Throw in a prayer from me as well,” Jace called after her. “We’ll need it.”

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

Dinner was not going well.

“You do know how the act is done, correct? Where to put your cock and all that?”

Aelinor resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands as Jace reprimanded Aegon, who had managed to be nothing but crude and inappropriate in the five minutes they’d been seated. When she glanced to Helaena sitting at her side, her friend made no reaction to her husband’s remarks.

Choosing to focus on her grandfather, Aelinor tried to turn back to the center of the table.

Someone, and she wasn’t sure if the more likely culprit was the Queen, her mother, or Jace, had sat her on the opposite side of the table from Aemond. He had offered her a strained smile when she had taken her seat, but they had been unable to speak.

“And, of course, the bond which will strengthen our great house, the betrothal of Prince Aemond, to my dear granddaughter, Princess Aelinor.” King Viserys was standing, offering her a smile that seemed to pain him. She did not know how he had the strength to live, let alone to stand and make speeches as he was doing. Still, she smiled brightly at him, trying to convey her love for him.

When she glanced back at Aemond, his expression was unchanged.

The others began to make speeches, her mother, then the queen, but Aelinor was too wrapped up in her own thoughts to listen.

Aemond was being…strange. She could not quite put her finger on it, but she knew that something was wrong. She had thought from their conversation earlier that he was satisfied with their betrothal, and yet his body was wracked with tension. Every glance he sent her way was softened, but quickly returned to ice as he studied the others. It unsettled her, and made her wish that she could just take him by the hand and lead him away, so that they might sort this out once and for all.

Jace was sitting down — why was Jace making a speech? — when Helaena muttered “Beware the beast beneath the boards.”

“What was that?” Aelinor whispered, but then Helaena was standing too.

“I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena and Aelinor. They’ll be married soon, and it isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you, except when he’s drunk.”

Aelinor’s heart broke as her aunt dropped back into her chair, her hands shaking as she took a sip of wine. Someone called for music, and Aelinor reached forward to take Helaena’s hand.

“My darling, are you alright?” She whispered.

Helaena shrugged.

Aelinor glanced across the table, finding Aegon guzzling a cup of wine. When she looked over at Aemond, she thought she saw something like anger flicker across his eyes. Aegon had never been her favorite, nor had she ever particularly liked him. She would never have chosen him for Helaena, who was sweet and docile and required far more patience than Aegon could ever offer. But for him to be so callous to her obvious distress….it made hatred sink deep into Aelinor’s bones.

“Yours will be different.” Helaena mumbled.

“Mine…you mean me and Aemond?” Aelinor asked.

Helaena gave a jerky nod. “Aemond is not Aegon.” Before she began to sing something quietly under her breath.

“No, he isn’t.” Aelinor agreed, sitting back in her chair. She had almost relaxed when she realized what Helaena was singing. “Blood and bars and iron. Blood and bars and iron.”

The words sent a chill down Aelinor’s spine, as if she had heard them before.

Suddenly Jace was right next to her, leaning down to offer a hand to Helaena, sweeping her away into a dance. She had to give it to her brother, he knew how to liven up a somber affair, and soon everyone was laughing and clapping. Her grandfather chuckled weakly, his laughter soon giving way to a wheeze.

Aelinor stood slowly, attracting only the notice of Aemond and her father, the rest of the party too engrossed in the dancing.

Stepping around her mother, Aelinor moved to the King’s side, kneeling on the ground next to him. The azure silk of her dress pooled beneath her knees as she lightly rested her hand on her grandfather’s elbow.

“Grandfather?” She said quietly.

“Aelinor, my heart.” He turned her way, a smile pulling at the corner of her lips.

“You have given us all quite the surprise today,” She said, aware that people on both sides were listening in.

A familiar twinkle lit up his eye. “Not so much as the one I received when I visited my library the night before last.”

Her mouth dropped open. “That was…you were…” She wouldn’t have thought he would have the strength to get out of bed, but then, hadn’t she and Aemond heard someone moving in his chambers, heard the door creak closed behind the voyeur.

“I hope you are not upset with me, my heart,” King Viserys lowered his voice so that only the two of them might hear. “Only, I thought to make you happy.”

Aelinor glanced up, not at all surprised to immediately find Aemond’s eyes on her. “I think you have, Grandfather. I hope so.”

“Good.” He patted her hand, before collapsing back into his chair.

Aelinor returned to her seat, her heart feeling a hundred times lighter. Her betrothal to Aemond was not some grand political machination, nor was it a result of old age or delirium. No, her grandfather had wanted to make her happy, as if that was all that mattered.

She met Aemond’s eye when she sat, and something in her expression caused him to look away. But it did not matter, because once he knew the truth of their betrothal, he would come around. She knew it.

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

Aemond had had a long time to think. Over the course of the rest of the day, and the first half of this agonizingly long dinner, during which he had done nothing but stare at Aelinor, he had reached three conclusions which were almost certainly going to ruin him.

The first he had learned from watching his brother egg on his nephews, and from hearing his mother rant and rave about how the trial had gone that morning. He was not sure that she had realized that he was listening, but he had heard regardless. As he watched his father get wheeled away, little more than a rasping husk in his chair, he realized that the civility of this dinner thus far had been nothing more than a performance. They might be a family, but they did not like each other.

The second realization was that Jacaerys and Lucerys Velaryon were not going to allow him to wed their sister. He had spent the better part of the day wondering what might have happened if he had refused to let them take her into their family’s chambers, if he had just insisted that she stay with him. But he knew that they would never have relented, that they likely intended on standing in his way, as they always had when they were children. He wished he could forgive them for it, for it wasn’t completely understandable. He likely would have had the same objection if his father had chosen to marry Helaena to one of the bastards. But his resentment of his nephews ran deep, and it was not something that he could forgive.

And the third was that his attachment to Aelinor could surpass these two obstacles. In his mind he rationalized how they would convince her brothers, how they would do what the King had intended and bring their families together. For when Aelinor returned to her seat after speaking with the King, he saw such bright hope shining in his eyes that he knew he would do anything to make their future a possibility.

Their future .

Gods, he didn’t even know what that would mean. He only knew that he would have to find great strength to look past decades of anger, to put her first so that all could be well.

But then they set the pig on the table.

Lucerys Velaryon laughed .

And Aemond was remembering all the reasons that he could never forgive them, never try to make peace. He remembered that damned pig with the wings, remembered Aelinor’s hand in the fire. The sound of his eye being cut from his head, of hands pulling on Aelinor’s braids. Of them laughing, laughing, laughing.

No, it was because of Aelinor that he would not let them be. Let them live their lives unscathed by the pain they had caused. Pain that had scarred not only him, but also the sister they claimed to care so much about.

“Final tribute,” He was standing, a cup balanced in his outstretched hand. All eyes were on him. “To the health of my nephews Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey.”

“Aemond,” His mother said quietly.

But he saw only the black hair of the bastards, and he steadied his gaze on them over the rim of his glass.

“Each of them wise…handsome…” He watched Aelinor push up from her seat, but she was too slow to stop him. “And Strong.”

“Aemond!” His mother said, louder now.

“Let us drain our cups!” He declared. “To these Strong boys.”

“I dare you to say that again!” Jacaerys stepped forward.

“Jace,” Aelinor was hurrying around the table. “Stop it.”

“Why? ‘Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself strong?”

“Aemond, stop it!” Aelinor cried, leveling him with a look of disappointment that made his insides curdle.

But Jacaerys was stepping forward, and then Aemond was pushing back, and the bastard was sprawled on the floor. Aegon was shoving, punching maybe, and he thought one of the other girls, either Baela or Rhaena, might have been screaming.

“Stop now!” Aelinor stepped in front of him before he could lunge for Jacaerys again.

Aemond stopped himself, stepping back at the same moment that Prince Daemon appeared between them, lifting a finger to ward off Prince Jacaerys.

“Go to your rooms, all of you!” Princess Rhaenyra declared.

Aelinor stared at him over her father’s shoulder, her eyes narrowing in a way that let him know how upset she was. But she listened to her mother, storming from the room with her brothers at her heels.

He could have challenged Prince Daemon there and then for coming between them, but he did not. He could not be sure whether it was the look of amusement that Prince Daemon cast his way, or some bizarre respect afforded to Aelinor’s true father that stayed his hand. He would never admit that it was cowardice. But he followed the others into the corridor.

Everyone else was already gone, so he took a moment to lean against the stone.

Gods, why had he done that? It wasn’t that he regretted it, not truly. The bastards deserved everything they got and more. He only regretted that Aelinor had been hurt by it. He could not find satisfaction in his insult, not when Aelinor was probably in her family’s chambers already, comforting her brothers as they licked their wounds.

A throat cleared behind him, and he turned quickly, surprised to see the Princess Rhaenyra standing there. He did not feign politeness with a bow.

She clasped both hands over her stomach. “Aemond.”

“Princess.”

She sighed, sounding so motherly and disappointed that he wondered how they could be siblings. She seemed so much older than him, something in her gaze making him feel like a small child.

“I will not insult you by attempting to scold you for your behavior,” She said. “You’re a man, and because of that, you must live with your actions.”

He did not respond.

“I only wish to remind you,” She continued. “Of two things I once asked of you. I asked you to protect Aelinor all your life, and you swore to do so. Do you remember this?”

“Of course.” He had only been five years old at the time, yet the memory rang clear as day in his mind.

“And I once asked you not to call my sons….not to call them what you called them today,” He thought that the Princess might have looked a bit uneasy, a bit unsteady on her feet. “Do you remember that?”

“Do you remember that your daughter was being held down by maesters as they repaired the flesh that your sons had mangled beyond use?” He hissed.

“Yes!” Rhaenyra snapped. “And her screams echoed in my mind for years. They echo still. But my sons were boys then, as were you. They were punished.”

Aemond could vaguely recall several months in which Jacaerys and Lucerys were not permitted in the Dragonpit, and were not permitted dessert at their meals. But at the time it had seemed unsatisfactory, hardly justice for what Aelinor had suffered.

“I advise you not to live in the past, Aemond,” Rhaenyra said quietly. “Aelinor has moved forward, and I should hate for you to drag her back.”

She started to walk away, her head lowered slightly.

“Do you return to Dragonstone, then?” He asked sharply. “On the morrow?”

“We do,” Rhaenyra said.

Something sharp drove into his heart, something final that threatened to send him to his knees. She was leaving again. Aelinor had barely been home for three days, and already she was leaving him.

“But Aelinor will remain.”

His head snapped up. “What?”

“It is tradition,” Rhaenyra sighed. “Since you are betrothed, she will remain in your household for some time. I will return on dragonback when I can.”

He swallowed. “Aelinor is…to stay here?” With me , he thought desperately.

“As I said,” Rhaenyra sighed, carrying on down the hall. “Unless she does not wish to after tonight.”

#hotd #house of the dragon #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #fanfic #fanfiction #game of thrones #lady of the ashes #aemond one eye

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firstelevens · 7 months

Note

🎤 or 📷 for the sambucky prompt? If you'd like!

I may have played a little fast and loose with the prompt, but I was inspired! This one got pretty long, so it's posted on AO3 if anyone would prefer to read it there.

📸 Accidental Public Confession

“I hate time travel,” groans Sam, for at least the fifth time today.

“A little louder, Sam; I’m not sure they heard you across the Hudson,” hisses Bucky.

So far, they’ve been doing a decent job of blending in. Any gawking that they did when they got here seemed to go unnoticed, because even a hundred years in the future, New York City is the kind of place where tourists roam wide-eyed and slow down the pace of the sidewalks. Still, until it’s clear how much the world has changed in this place where the Quantum Realm spat them out, it’s best to keep a low profile.

They decide to head for Bleecker Street, in hopes that the Sanctum Sanctorum has survived and they can get some answers, but they’ve only walked a few blocks when Sam stops dead in his tracks and grabs Bucky’s hand to stop him, too.

Bucky’s first instinct is to check that Sam is okay, but then Sam grabs his chin and turns his head to face where he’s been pointing: the building that used to be Avengers Tower, still standing. There are people milling around outside, but banners hung by the entrance still have the Stark Industries logo on them, and if Bucky’s few interactions with Morgan Stark have been anything to go by, there’s a good chance that the people in that building are smart enough to help them figure out what went wrong. He realizes belatedly that Sam’s hand is still in his and abruptly lets go, nodding towards the building as they change course.

It’s only when they cross the street and get closer to the entrance that the two of them realize that that won’t be the case. The building looks the same from the outside, but now, in brass letters, the sign above the doors declares it the Smithsonian Museum of American Superheroics.

Sam and Bucky share a look for a moment, silently agreeing to head inside. The cloaking devices on their gear hold up just fine under the scanners by the door, and they step into a sunlit atrium, full of families and tour groups looking around in awe.

Beside him, Sam accepts a map held out by a docent and unfolds it. “Look,” he says, tapping at a spot on the map. “There’s a research and preservation wing on the fifth floor. You think they’d be able to help us? Or point to someone who could?”

“Maybe,” says Bucky, frowning as he looks around, “but maybe it’s worth figuring out how folks here and now feel about us before we go barging in.”

There’s a considering noise from Sam, and then he looks up from the map, pointing towards a dramatically lit archway off the atrium. Hanging beside it is a banner that reads, ‘The Star Spangled Man: Bearers of the Captain America Legacy.’ “We could start there, maybe.”

They cross the atrium, flanked by groups of tiny school kids, and make their way into the exhibition room, its low light a contrast to the bright atrium. There’s a hush in the space, the kids shushed into apparent reverence by their chaperones.

The first room is a lot like the one Bucky remembers from the museum in DC: the story of Steve’s time in the war, with a small feature on each of the Commandos. There’s a section dedicated to Isaiah Bradley and the people whose lives he saved, though it doesn’t linger on what happened to him afterwards. Then it moves on to Steve’s time with the Avengers, capped by the Sokovia Accords and the battle against Thanos. Bucky is relieved to have seen very little mention of himself, though he’s confused by the lack of Sam in any of the exhibit so far.

They follow the path into the next room, and Bucky’s unasked questions are answered. Dead center, in a glass case large enough to accommodate the suit’s full wingspan, is a replica of Sam’s first Cap uniform.

Bucky looks over to Sam, whose face is doing something complicated as he looks at the uniform on display. When his face hasn’t cleared after a moment or two, Bucky murmurs, “Bad research. They should fire whoever did this.”

Sam’s face immediately goes from warring emotions to pure confusion. “What? Why?”

Keeping as straight a face as he can, Bucky gestures to the wax figure wearing Sam’s uniform. “Look at this guy. This mannequin has never even heard of leg day. How’s anyone gonna make a Sam Wilson figurine with legs this skinny?”

It earns an quiet laugh from Sam, who gently cuffs Bucky on the shoulder and shakes his head as he walks away. Much as Bucky would like to stick by Sam and keep him laughing, it occurs to him that this will go faster if they cover more ground, so he starts at the opposite side of the room.

As the two of them work towards the middle, Bucky skims every plaque that he comes across, looking for signs that he and Sam showing up at a superhero facility might be unwelcome, but there aren’t any. Weirder than that is the fact that Bucky is almost halfway around the room, and the exhibit has only covered the first few years of Sam’s time as Cap. He knows they’re not supposed to engage with too much information from the future, but it seems strange that he’s halfway through the section about the work they’ve done together, and the timeline has already caught up to the mission that he and Sam were on two weeks ago.

Sam looks equally confused as the two of them approach each other, stopping in front of a glass case where Bucky is stunned to see his own face looking at him from the pictures on display. He’s spent enough time with the Wilsons to pick out everyone in the family photos—Titi and Gideon and both of Sam’s parents, all the people he’s gotten to know and love in Delacroix—but Bucky’s face crops up everywhere. He’s in the Christmas card photo, and beaming proudly in the background while AJ shows off his little league trophy, and manning the grill with Sam at a cookout. There’s the pictures of the team that Kate has been taking lately with her polaroid camera, shots from news stories and from the time they invited a photographer along to document a training exercise, and in every single one, Bucky is by Sam’s side.

He takes a few steps back to see the entirety of the display and feels his jaw drop. This entire section of the exhibit is specifically about him and Sam, and he might be able to convince himself that it was about their partnership in the field if it wasn’t for the words in his own handwriting, projected against the backdrop of the display case: the crisp, slanting cursive that all his teachers used to applaud him for, spelling out the words, ‘until the end of time.’

Bucky knows those words, knows exactly where and when he wrote them down, but what he doesn’t know is how anyone could have seen them. He keeps that letter with him, locked in a desk drawer and tucked away from prying eyes. Nobody’s read it but him; he never even bothered to send it. He’d just written the letter to put his feelings into the world somewhere, never intending for them to be anyone’s problem but his own, and now…

It suddenly strikes him that Sam has been strangely quiet this whole time, and when Bucky looks over at him, his eyes are wide and apologetic. Inside the display case, right at his eye level, is the letter that Bucky locked away six months ago and has tried not to think about every day since.

“I’m so sorry,” Sam starts to say, and Bucky’s not sure he can stand to hear it.

“It’s fine,” he says, like it’s not rapidly getting harder to breathe. “It’s– you didn’t– it’s not a big deal. It isn’t.”

“I shouldn’t have read it,” Sam’s saying. “I didn’t realize what it was; I saw that it was addressed to me, and I read the date and I figured it would be something I’d recognize, but–”

“You couldn’t have known.”

“Still,” says Sam. “I’m sorry.”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Bucky says tightly. He tries not to think about all the stupid things he said in that letter, all the damage that he’s just done to this friendship that Sam will be too kind to acknowledge. “Let’s just go home and we can pretend it never happened.”

Something flickers over Sam’s face before he clenches his jaw and squares his shoulders, nodding briskly. “Of course,” he says.

It’s Sam who walks away first, bound for the research wing entrance at the end of the exhibit. Bucky watches him go for a moment before turning back to the display case for one last glance. For all that he never wanted his letter to get out, Bucky can’t help but feel grateful that this is the part of his legacy that’s made it into a museum. He knows intimately the mark that the Soldier left on the world, and while that blood isn’t going anywhere, Bucky’s not even sure he knows how to voice his relief that at least in this one building, his place in history is marked by love.

As he looks over the whole display, his eyes fall to the bottom of the plaque, past the paragraph that recounts the details of his and Sam’s partnership. In small print across the bottom, there’s an acknowledgment of where the items in the display come from: ‘The Smithsonian thanks the Wilson family and the Wilson-Barnes Estate for their generous donation of these artifacts and their invaluable advice and support in the arrangement of this exhibit.’

Bucky blinks.

The Wilson family and the Wilson-Barnes Estate.

The Wilson-Barnes Estate.

Wilson-Barnes.

He has a sudden flashback to sitting down with a bunch of lawyers a few months ago, going over the basics of a superhero will. He hadn’t thought that he needed one at the time, but Sam had pointed out to Bucky that several decades of military backpay would just end up reverting to the state if Bucky died without a next of kin, and something about that left a bad taste in Bucky’s mouth. He’d ended up writing something simple, directing what he had to some charities and setting the rest aside for AJ and Cass, not that he’s told Sam or Sarah yet.

But even if the donations were made by the boys on his behalf, surely that would just constitute the Barnes Estate. Wilson hyphen Barnes means something shared, means that there was some legal reason why Sam and Bucky’s belongings would be dealt with together, and though it seems impossibly out of reach, Bucky can only think of one reason why that would happen.

He thinks again about how long Sam had stared at that letter, so much longer than it would have taken to read it just the once. He thinks about the emotion that had flashed across his face when Bucky had told him to forget about it. He’d assumed at the time that it might have been panic or frustration, but what if it had been something else entirely? What if Sam’s brusqueness wasn’t about the letter, but what had happened afterward?

Bucky can feel the tiniest amount of hope beginning to beat behind his ribcage, and after months and months of trying to squash it down, he lets it grow.

Across the room, he finds Sam, waiting by the next room of the exhibit and watching him. When Sam spreads his hands in the universal gesture for what the hell, dude, we’re trying to do something here, Bucky feels affection thrum through his veins, and he half-jogs over to where Sam is standing.

“I hope you have a plan for what to–” Sam is starting to say, but Bucky cuts him off again.

“We should talk about it,” he blurts. When Sam’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, he clarifies: “The letter. We should talk about the letter.

Immediately, Sam’s face softens. “We don’t have to, Buck. You didn’t mean for anyone to see it. It’s okay.”

But Bucky is already shaking his head. “I did,” he says, trying his best to push past the fear that had made him hide the letter in the first place. “I meant for you to see it. I just…I let my brain talk me out of it. I shouldn’t have.”

His words hang in the air for a moment, thick between them. Then, before either of them can say anything else, the door to the research wing swings open and a lady in a lab coat steps out. She has two sets of glasses perched on her head and a jeweler’s lens around her neck, and when she sees the two of them standing by the door, she does a cartoon-perfect double take.

“Oh, shit,” she says, her eyes going wide.

“Oh, good, you know who we are,” says Sam pleasantly, switching from Sam Wilson to Cap right in front of Bucky’s eyes. “Any chance you could help us find our way back home?”

When the still-shocked museum employee manages a weak yes and motions for them to follow her, Sam reaches for Bucky’s hand again to pull him along.

This time, Bucky doesn’t let go.

#sambucky #zainab does ask meme things #abarbaricyalp #thank you for sending this in! it fully ran away with me #my fic

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imhereformr · 9 months

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can u do the getting the other to dance with them one for musa and riven

The Solarian ballroom was huge. Huge and ornate. Musa didn’t think she’d ever set foot in a room so grand. Then again, the most grandiose room she’d seen in her entire life was the Alfea ballroom and, while it was nice, it wasn’t exactly what one would call opulent. Alfea’s ballroom, while very pretty, was very plain. Solaria’s ballroom, on the other hand, was all gold and mirrors and draping. It was beautiful, and large and long, making Alfea’s ballroom feel like a broom closet compared to it.

The party itself was quite the affair too. The guests were dressed to impress and, if the guest of honour hadn’t been Stella, they very well may have outdone the princess. The food was probably the best Musa had ever tasted and the drinks were prepared with such spectacular flair that they were their own show. Entertainment hid in every corner; there was a sketch artist, a sun dancer, living topiary, aerial silks and many others Musa was sure she hadn’t come across yet.

Musa’s favourite was the band. Predictable, simple and classic, but they were truly something else. They played in perfect harmony with one another and the crowd, always seeming to know which song would bring the most people to the dance floor. The floor hadn’t been empty for a single song since the party had started. Upbeat songs brought out the hordes of dancing guests, and the slow ones all the lovers.

All except hers.

Riven, Timmy and Helia had had engine troubles, but they ended up making it just in time for Stella to make her grand entrance. The whole situation that had followed was... awkward to say the least, but Stella was determined to enjoy her ball and not let her father’s news ruin her evening. Musa had thought that – after they’d confirmed that Stella wasn’t going to throw herself out of the top level of the aviary – she and Riven would spend the night dancing to every slow song like they had at the end of year dance, but they’d barely even interacted.

Not for lack of trying either, she’d broken off from dancing with Aisha (and sometimes the other girls) to go see him, but he and Timmy were so deep into their conversation that he barely noticed she’d come around. Or if he did, he gave no visible sign of it.

“Girl, just go ask him to dance” Aisha sighed as Musa stared over at the spot where Riven and Timmy were standing. Musa looked back at the Androsi princess, trying to pretend she hadn’t been caught being incredibly obviously distracted.

“Don’t even look at me like that” Aisha rolled her eyes. “I know very well that you’re staring at Riven and trying to figure out how to get him to notice you. That boy is emotionally constipated and stupid. He doesn’t know you want him to dance with you. So ask”

“But...”

“But fucking what? You like him, he likes you. You’re - I think – in a relationship with him.”

“He’s not paid the littlest bit of attention to me...”

“I find that very hard to believe. That boy is always staring at you.”

“No he’s not” Musa replied, taking Aisha’s hands as the fast song faded into a slow one. Guests coupled up and took to the floor, spinning circles around the two girls.

“Yeah, he is” Aisha insisted, looking behind the musical fairy to where their coupled friends had taken to the floor and waving the two closest ones over. “Flora, Helia, is Riven always staring at Musa?”

“Oh yeah, he can’t ever seem to take his eyes off you” The nature fairy replied almost immediately. “It’s very sweet.”

“He talks about you a lot too” Helia added before twirling Flora away from them. Musa could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. It quickly dissolved into confidence as she turned to look at Riven and caught him looking at her. He turned away, focusing his attention on Timmy and pretending he hadn’t been looking at her, but even from a dozen or so feet away she could see him turning red with embarrassment.

Musa flipped off Aisha and her see, I told you expression before waltzing over to the two boys. She took Riven’s hand, forcing his attention away from Timmy. “Dance with me.”

“Dance?” he asked uncertainly. His free hand came up to scratch the nape of his neck, stretching the suit jacket over his chest. He turned back towards Timmy, insisting that he couldn’t just drop the conversation, but the redheaded specialist was nowhere to be seen.

“Timmy seems fine with it” Musa chuckled, pulling Riven – her boyfriend, she reminded herself – towards the dance floor. She took his other hand in hers and slid herself closer to him, forcing him to sway along with her. He moved awkwardly with her and didn’t say much, but he was dancing with her.

“You look really nice” he whispered as the music faded out and the band started their next song. Mercifully, it was also a slow one.

Musa blushed furiously. Her instinct was to stare at the ground and hope he didn’t see her turning red, but she forced herself to look up at him. He smiled shyly and she returned it with a big, genuine smile. He liked her, she reminded herself; there was no need to be embarrassed by liking his attention. “You do too.”

“I feel like an idiot in this suit.”

“Well, that may be, but you look...” Musa stood back, never letting go of his hands, to look him over. She wasn’t sure where he’d gotten the suit (she was 99% sure he didn’t own it before this party), but it fit him like it was tailor-made for him. “Very nice.”

The slow song gave way to a faster one and they hadn’t done much but smile at each other like a bunch of idiots as they swayed. Riven seemed to freeze up at the frenzied beat so she allowed him to step off the dance floor. Musa thought that Aisha would be her dance partner for the rest of the night and tried to content herself with having had that one dance, but when the next slow song came on (and every other slow song after that), Riven was right there asking her to dance with him.

#dont let these oneshots convince you anything is going to come out faster #im just really bored at work and i need to seem like im doing something #writing allows me to be typing and that makes it seem like im working #winx club #winx #winx musa #winx riven #winx aisha #winx layla #set in season 3 #prompt #oneshot #fanfiction

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youllallriseintheink · 3 months

Text

One For All, Epilogue

In an AU where the protagonist never fell from the sky, the Survey Corps will have to pull together and make use of every resource at their disposal to face the challenges present in Pokemon: Legends Arceus. There will be surveyshipping.

Thank you guys for joining me on this much-longer-than-planned adventure! I have a lot of one-offs planned after this, so stay tuned!

---

The festival was a sight to be seen. Never before had any resident of Jubilife seen so many clanspeople within their streets, let alone welcomed them warmly. Children donned masks and chased each other through the streets, merchants made trades, musicians played, and every spirit seemed to soar.

Through it all, Laventon couldn’t be in enough places at once. Everything was worthy of a photograph, and he sought to capture as much of the event as he could. He’d captured a beautiful photo first thing- one of clanspeople in their finest montsukis and furisodes pouring through Jubilife’s open gate- and from that moment on, the spirit of photography was with him. He was managing successful picture after successful picture. With any luck, this would serve as a reminder for everyone of the joy and connection that came from working as one- not that he suspected the tale of the three factions conquering Gods together would die out anytime soon.

As Laventon captured shots of the drummers drumming, he caught sight of two men and a woman carrying fireworks toward the edge of town. He certainly wanted a picture of that. He followed the three up the towers of the village gates, asking them the best place to set up his camera for the best view.

“Excuse me,” Laventon said to the trio, “where can I best set up? To take a stunning photograph of the fireworks without disturbing you, that is.”

The woman chuckled. “The fireworks won’t be for another hour yet, and you’ll be able to see them from anywhere.”

Laventon blushed. “Oh. Yes, of course.”

“You should go down to the town square. A dance is starting, and I’m about to head down myself.”

“Oh!” he replied. “Very well, then.”

The square was in the thick of the action. It was where the musicians had chosen to play, and thus, many people had taken to dancing there and merchants had taken to the edges of it, trying to make a dollar off of partygoers.

Sitting off to the side of it was Cyllene and Rei, talking at one of the tables outside the Wallflower. Leaning over the table with his good arm and a weary look in his one unbandaged eye, Rei was clearly drained. Who wouldn’t be after all he’d been through? But he was happily chatting with Cyllene, perhaps recounting the tale of how he’d been injured in the first place.

Cyllene. It wasn’t often that Laventon had seen Cyllene interacting casually- not outside her training sessions with Zisu that Laventon had sat in on and in one disastrous instance, participated in. She was wearing a fine purple kimono, her face adorned with a small smile as she listened to Rei’s tale. She reminded Laventon of a regal queen he’d once met in Johto- a comparison he perhaps ought to keep to himself.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Laventon said as he approached their table.

“Thank you,” Cyllene replied. “It’s good that you came. Rei has much he’d like to express to you.”

“Yeah!” Rei seconded. “I have so much to tell you about what the plates are for, and a story to tell you that I’ll be telling to everyone for years, especially once these are scars to bring it up with!” Rei pointed at the bandages over his eye at that last part.

“Well, I’d love to hear it!” Laventon said. Just then, the music slowed as a new, romantic song played. “But, um, first,” he turned to Cyllene. “May I have this dance?” he asked, extending a hand to her.

Rei sat back, defeated. “Ah, come on- I’ve been waiting all night to see you, and you’re leaving already?”

The two older researchers paid him little heed. “You may,” Cyllene replied, taking Laventon’s hand, and, after Laventon gave Rei a brief apology, they were on their way to the square.

“I’ll warn you, I don’t really know how to dance, let alone whatever dances are popular in Hisui.”

“I don’t dance, either,” Cyllene replied. “So show me how Galarians dance. It’s the only way either of us know.”

Laventon put a hand on her shoulder and his other one on her hip, and she mirrored him. “Very well, then… I only know so well myself, but… one step, two step… one step, two step…”

It was a simple dance, one that both of them could keep up.

Behind Cyllene, Laventon could see Irida and Adaman, laughing as a gaggle of children carried off their eevee evolutions. Many villagers had come out with their Pokémon, too- pets, creatures of labour, guard Pokémon. Though it was hard to tell, Laventon even thought he could make out the shape of ghosts in the crisp night air, perhaps drawn to the festival by the pleasant music and the smell of food.

“So, what’s next? For the team, I mean, now that this strange phenomenon is behind us.”

“Much the same as before the phenomenon began- fill the Pokédex and fulfill requests. The clans have requested a better understanding of time-space Distortions. Once we find a way of predicting their formation, this could be an excellent opportunity to collect rare specimens.”

Laventon perked up at the thought of such an adventure. While he was glad things had settled a bit, he was glad that the Survey Corps adventures weren’t over for him yet. “I’m certainly game for that!”

“Yes, it’s very exciting. However, until we have the research methodology worked out, we should keep ourselves occupied with other tasks. The Agriculture Corps has requested that we look into the possible uses of bug types. That would be a good place to start.”

Laventon chuckled, almost falling out of the song’s rhythm as he did so. “Well, I suppose we’re due for some mundanity as well. Are you certain the bug types won’t be too much for you?”

Cyllene turned slightly pink. “After fighting Gods, I’m certain I could tolerate a few wurmples.”

“Well, alright!”

With that, the song ended and another began.

“Want to try copying the others this time? It’s a pretty good way to learn dances if my experience is correct.”

“Laventon, I would like a word with you,” Kamado said, interrupting their dance before Cyllene could respond.

Laventon nearly jumped out of his skin. He looked to Cyllene, nervous and looking for guidance. Kamado had every right to be at this party, of course- Laventon had caught glimpses of him while he was running around with a camera, even- but this had come out of nowhere and he hadn’t done anything wrong that he could think of, and-

“I would like Cyllene to come as well, and Rei is already at the village gates,” Kamado continued. “I promise that you aren’t in any trouble.”

With that, Laventon and Cyllene started following Kamado. They were joined by Rei as they followed Kamado past the gates of Jubilife- gates that were left open more and more nowadays as Pokémon and the clans had become less their enemies and more their allies. Laventon began to trust that Kamado really did mean no harm. Or at least, that he might.

“You still keep a knife on you, right? At all times?” Laventon whispered to Cyllene. Not that it was likely to come to that, but it would be reassuring nonetheless!

“Is that something Mesprit showed you?” Cyllene whispered back.

“Yes,” Laventon replied, taking a more thorough look over Cyllene’s outfit and wondering how exactly she’d manage to hide a knife in it.

“I don’t think we’ll have any need to impale our commander,” Cyllene said coolly. Laventon grabbed her hand for comfort.

The trio’s destination wasn’t far from the village: it was Prelude Beach, the same port that Laventon had arrived at Hisui, and, most likely, the place that Cyllene and Kamado had years prior.

“Laventon,” Kamado started, “I have brought you here to apologize. When the first of us arrived here on Prelude Beach, myself, Beni, and all the others, we had little. We wanted to make ourselves a home and a future here, and I would have done anything to protect it from anything that might threaten us. Our life here was fragile at first, and I reacted poorly to any change to the status quo. And yes, that included a team of adventurers teaching us to live in harmony with dangerous creatures, aided by a foreigner seeking glory. But since you have come here and since the Survey Corps has flourished, the lives of everyone in Jubilife have improved. I understand that I have made your time here very difficult and went against what I intended for Jubilife to be- a place where all who are willing to work are welcome. It would be understandable if you cannot forgive me, but thank you for your help in protecting Hisui, and I’m sorry that I didn’t see that you were with us from the beginning.”

“Sir… It’s alright,” Laventon said. “So long as I’m welcome here now and you respect me from now on, that’s all I care about.” It was the truth.

Kamado’s stiff posture seemed to ease considerably. “Thank you…” Kamado said.

For a moment, the four sat on the beach, watching the waves come in as they reflected light from the lanterns of Jubilife.

“So… can I tell you my story now?” Rei asked.

“Of course!” Laventon replied.

“Alright!” Rei said, his eyes lighting up. “I know you don’t have your notebook right now, so I’ll just keep this casual and then give you a written report later. So, after the Captain told me to go after Volo…”

As Rei started his story, Laventon held Cyllene close and Cyllene held him back, Kamado’s presence ruining none of their comfort. Maybe Laventon should have been less forgiving of Kamado, but he honestly felt like a hurricane had stopped coming his way- like he could stop waiting for a shoe to drop. Maybe now that Kamado wasn’t a shoe or a hurricane he could be a person to Laventon, maybe even one he liked. Or, maybe he couldn’t. But all Laventon could feel now was relief. Relief, and gratitude that he could keep enjoying Rei and Cyllene’s presence without fear.

Suddenly, the four heard the whizzing sound of something flying through the air, followed by the bang of the first firework exploding into a flash of coloured sparks.

“Oh, no! The fireworks!” Laventon cried, rising to his feet. “I need to get back and capture this!”

“They’ll be going long enough for you to take your photo. But let’s hurry, just to be safe,” Cyllene said, and the four rushed back to Jubilife together.

#pokemon #pokemon legends arceus #professor laventon #captain cyllene #rei #commander kamado #cyllene x laventon #my fanfiction

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andydrysdalerogers · 1 year

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Sliding Into Home ~ Maybe I Should Have Ducked?

Pairing: MLB!Frank Adler x Abigail Hernandez (OFC)

Synopsis:

After a trade from Boston to Los Angeles, first baseman Frank Adler would seem to have it all. Money, women, an amazing niece, yes Frank should have it all. Except for one thing. One thing that left after a mistake five years ago. Los Angeles should be the chance to start over. Except she is supposed to be in Boston. Not his new medical director.

* A Frank Adler AU x Major League Baseball Story**

Warning: ANGST (i can't stress this enough), second chances, cheating, S~M~U~T!!, slow burn, drug use, abandonment issues, betrayal, domestic violence (i may have missed some), flashbacks

Dividers by me

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Wanna Feel Safe Again

Sliding Into Home Master List Main Masterlist

San Francisco is usually beautiful in late Spring. The air wasn’t sweltering yet, the flowers were in bloom.

And the rivalry with Los Angeles was in full swing.

Frank gritted his teeth at the thought of having to see Bobby Fuller again. That asshole had been traded two years after the Vegas incident and he and Frank had been at each others throats during that time. So seeing him with the Giants was hard. The Dodgers would be playing the Giants more often than he did with the Red Sox.

During the first inning, there was almost a full out brawl when the pitcher almost hit Frank in the head with an errant pitch. Frank got into his face but never made a violent move. The benches were given a warning and play continued.

Abby sat in the dugout as the trainer on the field, a responsibility that she enjoyed because not only was she involved with the team, but she was also close to Frank. They didn’t interact much, knowing the TV cameras were everywhere, but Frank gave her a side smirk every once in a while, allowing the butterflies to gather in her stomach. When he could, he gave her a gentle touch, so she knew he was there.

It seemed the game calmed down for a few innings until the top of the sixth. Frank was back at bat and observed a pitching changeup. The new pitcher, Smith, stopped to hear something from Fuller and then warmed up. Frank was curious but he let it go, concentrating on the pitch. The first one was low and inside, the second was away. Frank smirked. He knew he just needed to be patient.

Except when the fastball went wide of the box. And bounced off of Frank’s hand and into his face.

He dropped to the ground, not moving. Abby grabbed her bag and followed another trainer out to the field. “Adler? Frank? Can you hear me?” Abby looked at Dave, the other trainer. “We need to move him. Get the brace.” After fitting Frank with the neck brace, Dave and Abby carefully turned him over. “Oh Frankie,” she whispered.

Frank had blood coming from the side of his face. “Fuck,” he moaned. He blinked. “Cricket?”

“Oh thank God. Let’s get the backboard,” she ordered Dave. As the EMTs came in, she smiled down at Frank. “If you wanted my attention, there are other ways Franklin.”

“Full name treatment. I’m an injured man Cricket.” He smiled but immediately grimaced. Johnny came over to check on him. “Hey man.”

“Adler, jesus, are you ok?”

“Maybe I should have ducked?”

Abby smacks his shoulder. “We’re gonna get him checked out Storm.” They loaded him to a cart as the crowd in San Francisco clapped and Frank gave a wave.

The ride to the hospital was quick and Abby spoke with the attending physician to advise what happened. She stood back in the examination room as the doctors on call checked him over. The lead doctor came to speak to Abby. “Dr. Hernandez, it looks like Mr. Adler has a very minor concussion, a contusion on his face that will require a couple of stitches and a broken pinkie finger. My recommendation is three weeks of healing.”

Abby let out a sigh of relief. “That's better news than I had hoped for. I agree with your assessment. I will let the team know. Thank you so much.”

“We can release him in your care today but no flying for 48 hours. Let me know if you need anything else?”

“Just copies of his records for the team.” They shook hands and Abby went to Frank. “How do you feel about a small vacation?”

“That bad?”

“Broken pinkie, a small cut that needs stitches, and a small concussion. The League is putting you into concussion protocol, which is two weeks and the pinkie will need an extra week. I’m sorry love, but three weeks on the injury reserved.”

“That’s all of June,” Frank whines as he leans his head back. Abby runs her nails through his scalp gently and he lets out a hum of contentment. “Will you stay with me Cricket?” He looked at her with puppy eyes.

“I will have to work a little but yes, I can stay with you.”

“What about...”

“He’s back east with the firm. He took a case over there that will last about a month.” She bit her lip. “We’ll be fine.”

Frank kissed the inside of her wrist. “I love you.”

“I love you. Now, let’s get you discharged and to the hotel. I need to let Todd know your status and have another trainer join the team for the rest of the trip.”

When Frank and Abby arrived back at LAX, a teary Mary and Scott were waiting for them. Mary ran up to Frank and he scooped her up with his good hand. She cried into his neck, and he tried to sooth her. “Hey Nugget, its ok, I’m ok.”

Mary pulled back and squished his face between her small hands. She pushes his head around, inspecting the cut and his eyes. “Frank, you scared me.” She pushes his lips to make him smile. “You’re smiling.”

“Yeah, I scared me too. But Abby took good care of me.” He flashed a soft smile to Abby before Mary launched herself into Abby.

“Thank you, Abby, for taking care of Frank.”

“Always Nugget. I’ll always take care of my family.” She put Mary down so Frank could take her hand and she turned to Scott. “How bad?”

“She cried until you guys called. It was pretty scary.” Scott huffs. “If he wanted your attention...”

“I did not do it to get her attention,” Frank growled. “If I wanted to get her attention, I would just need to show her my...”

“Franklin!”

Scott snickered as Frank groaned. “Franklin, that’s so lame,�� Mary says.

Frank looks at Abby, who blows him a kiss. He shakes his head but returns the gesture as they make it out to the car. Getting home, Frank gets to the couch and leans his head back. “Are you in pain Frankie?”

“A little, Cricket.” He grimaces. “Just feel pressure behind my eyes.”

“Yep, that’s the concussion.” Abby reaches for her bag and takes out a couple of tablets. “Here, let me get you some water.” Scott comes around with a bottle of water and Frank looks at him gratefully. He swallows the medicine and tries to close his eyes. “Baby, if you want to sleep, you should be in your room with the curtains closed. You’ll feel better, promise.”

“Will you lay with me?” he asked pathetically.

“Sure love.” She helps Frank up and into his room. She gets him down and curled up against him. “Better?” He nodded and closed his eyes. “Rest, my love. I’ll be right here.”

The next ten days were calm with Frank still recovering from his concussion. On day 12, he became restless. He woke up with his Cricket in his arms, her butt right up against his pelvis. Christ, her ass is perfect, he thinks. He lets his hand wander down, dipping below her panties. She sighs in her sleep, but Frank wants to wake her up. He pulls her leg over his hip to open her up and lets his fingertips dip into her folds. Fucking wet and warm for him, like always. He slowly sinks a finger in.

“Frankie,” she moans softly. “Baby, your head.”

“It is clear as ever Cricket. Can I have you?” She nods and Frank smiles. He adds a finger and pumps at a steady rhythm. She cries out quietly and he palms her clit. He brings her to the brink and watches as she shatters in his arms.

“Need. More,” she pants.

“Whatever you need Cricket.” Frank pushes her panties down her legs and then pushes his own boxers down, grasping her knee and pulling it back over his hip. He let his tip dance around the remnants of her release before slowly pushing in. She purrs at the stretch, and he gives a low chuckle. “Can you be quiet for me Cricket? Can you be a good girl and be quiet?” He feels her nod against his ear. He pulls back and rocks back into her and he can feel her hum at the sensation. “Good girl. Such a good fucking girl.”

Abby is lost in the sensation of Frank taking her apart slowly. He isn’t rough or fast, just taking his time, making her feel everything. She whimpers at a particularly deep thrust into her womb but she doesn’t cry out. “That's my good Cricket,” he whispers, making her clench around him. “Didn’t realize you have a thing for praise, my love.”

“Frankie,” she whispered. “Don’t be cruel.”

“Never, my love.” He ran a finger down her skin until he met her clit. He rubbed slowly, feeling her build around his cock. “Are you almost there? I know you are, can feel it.”

“Yes,” she gasped. He didn’t stop until she shattered, seeing stars as he pumped in one, two, three and released inside of her with a low groan.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Not possible.”

“Let’s take a trip.”

Abby looks from her coffee. “What?”

“Let’s go on a trip. Nug has her trip to DC this week, Scott’s heading back to Boston while she’s gone. I can’t stare at these walls anymore Cricket.”

“You’re on injured reserve Frankie, you can’t just take a trip.”

Frank pouts and gives her puppy eyes. “Please?”

“Oh so you think that just giving me eyes and a sweet little please is going to change my mind.” Abby turns back to her computer with a scoff. She misses Frank coming from behind her and sweeping her curls off of her shoulder. He presses sweet kisses to her neck and shoulders, watching her lose her head and tilt back, exposing more of her.

“I can stop, my love, and just go back to the couch.”

“N-no.” She closes her eyes as her hand cups the back of his neck. She can feel his smile against her skin.

“Just a few nights. Please.”

Abby starts to lose control of her gasps. She knows she needs to be quiet but the sensation of his lips on the column of her throat is one of the best she’s ever felt. “Ok,” she whispers as he nips her gently. “Fine, where do you want to go?”

After Mary is dropped off with the school for her trip, Frank heads to the airport to drop Scott off for his flight to Boston. “Have fun Frank,” he said with a wink.

“You too Scott.” He gave him a hug and walked back to his car. As he drove away from LAX, a sign blinked at him and an idea hit him. It was time, he thought to himself. He messaged Abby.

Frank: pack for the heat Abby: Why? Frank: I want to take you somewhere and it will be hot. Abby: I hate being hot. Frank: Humor me Abby: 😑 Fine. Frank: Love you. 😘

Abby packed her suitcase, smiling at the message Frank sent when another popped up

Mike: How’s the road trip? Abby: Fine. Mike: I miss you Abby: You too Mike: I’ll be home in a week. Abby: Ok, I’ll be home

“Fuck,” she muttered. She hated that she hadn’t had the nerve to just break it off yet. She was just scared of Mike’s reaction. Abby wasn’t normally a confrontational person. The last time she was hostile, well, she lost Frank. The memory made her sad. When she heard the door open, she shook it off and closed her case.

“Hey Cricket. All set?” Frank’s excitement was in the air.

“Yeah baby, I’m all set.” Abby smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Gonna tell me where we are going?”

He kissed her nose. “Nope. Let’s go.” He grabbed her bag and his and headed to his Camero.

“I can’t believe you still have this car.”

“I can’t believe you would think that I got rid of it.” Frank started the car and headed out. “This is my prize for getting drafted.”

“And here I thought that was me,” she replied without a thought. Frank smile dropped a little. He swallowed, wondering if this road trip idea was smart. He stayed silent, thinking about all the details and hoped that she would listen.

A few hours later, Abby’s face was in disbelief. Frank had taken them to Las Vegas. She didn’t know what to say. Why would he bring them to the very place that had broken them? Having never been to the city herself, she was awestruck at the lights and sounds. Frank pulled into a fancy one, the Bellagio and had the valet take their car and bags. He held her hand as they walked into the lobby. Abby gasped as she took in the glass flower ceiling. “Wow.”

“It is beautiful,” Frank commented. “When the team had come out here and we were walking around, I remember thinking that you would have loved this.”

“Is this... is there where...”

“No Cricket. I will never go back to that particular hotel ever again.” Frank checked them in and a hotel concierge walked them to their room. “This is one of our high roller suites, sir. If you need anything just call the desk and someone will be right up.”

“Thank you.” Frank tipped the man as Abby took in the room. It faced out to the strip and she could see the other hotels. Suddenly, what sounded like a cannon blasted water up in the air and the fountain began to dance.

“The fountain,” she squealed as Frank chuckled. She could faintly hear the remnants of a Frank Sinatra in the air as the towers of water began to dance. When it ended, Abby clapped. “That was amazing.”

“It says here that it happens every half hour to a new song until midnight so we can watch it again if you like Cricket.” Frank loved watching her as she enjoyed the show. It was something he remembered from that awful October, wishing he could have shared it with her then. “C’mon baby, let me feed you and we can take a walk.”

After a delicious meal, Frank and Abby walked hand in hand on the crowded streets. They pointed at the different signs, different characters that were walking the strip, laughing, and enjoying being just Frank and Abby. As they approached one hotel, Frank’s palms began to sweat. “Frankie?”

“Can I tell you a story? It doesn’t have a happy ending but maybe we can rewrite it.” Frank looked to his feet.

“You can talk to me about anything, love.” Abby cupped his cheek. “Take your time.”

Frank swallowed. “About five years ago, I won the big game for my team, and we came here to celebrate. I really didn’t want to because I had my amazing girlfriend and my darling little niece at home, but I didn’t want to come off as a bad team player. My best friend came with me, and we lived it up. Our captain had gotten us a couple of tables at a club, and we had fun.” Frank sighed and pointed to the club in front of the MGM. “See that sign? Its for the club we went to. This is the hotel we were staying at. Anyways, we partied and went back to the suite where some of us had been staying at.”

“Alone?” She asked, quietly.

“Me, yes. Some women approached me that night, but I refused. I wasn’t drinking as much as the rest of the guys from what I can remember. Anyways, some of the guys had brought girls back with us and the hotel had set up a bar for us to drink from. There was a pool off the balcony of the room and the girls were getting in with just their underwear. I was uncomfortable. I said that to Mike. The last thing I remember clearly was him handing me a glass of scotch. He said, ‘Adler, you earned this.’ You’re a good man to Abby and a wonderful father to Mary. Just relax and enjoy.’”

“Mike handed you that drink?”

“That’s the last one I remember. When I woke up, I was in a room, not mine. My head was splitting, and I was dehydrated. I made it to the bathroom and when I looked back, I saw the blonde. I yelled at her, asking her what the fuck she was doing in my room. She panicked and said she didn’t remember coming in there with me. Mike rushed in and told her to get out while checking over with me. I asked him what I had done, and he said, I swear, he said that I got drunk, and I couldn’t make it to my room so he put me in his.”

Abby closed her eyes. “Why would Mike lie? He had no reason to.”

“Abby, I love how you are so trusting but Mike has had it bad for you since high school. But he knew I liked you and was working up the nerve to tell you for years. But back to the story. I called Steve and asked what I should do. He was here as well with another client. He asked me to stop the girl and ask her for the truth. I did manage to stop her, ask her and promise not to go to the press. I would pay anything for it not to go to press. I needed to tell you first. Steve showed up and got an NDA in place. He talked to her and she confirmed, nothing happened.”

“But then the pictures came out.”

“Then the pictures came out. I was so angry that someone, who knows who, they violated my privacy, my trust. I was desperately trying to get to you first but by the time I landed, it was too late. You didn’t let me explain and I lost you.”

“Oh Frankie,” she cried as she pressed herself into his chest.

“I’m so sorry Cricket. I should have called, I should have done something else to stop this from happening. I lost five years with you when a simple phone call would have solved everything. I am so sorry.”

“I’m sorry too Frankie, I should have just taken a moment to listen to you. When I got those texts of those photos...”

Frank pulled back. “What texts?”

“I got an anonymous text with the photos and an audio of you just says, “I can’t tell Abby,” I thought, well I thought it was more common.”

“You don’t know who sent it.” She shook her head. “Fuck, I don’t, I don’t even know what to say. I was always going to tell you but I didn’t want to do it by phone.” He pulled her back into his arms and held her tight. “I love you Cricket. I never stopped.” He kissed the top of her head as they held each other.

Abby sighed after a while. “Take me to bed?”

Frank didn’t answer, just turned away from the hotel that ruined his life and started back to the fountain. As they walked, Abby spotted something and stopped. “Cricket?”

She pointed at the building. “We could make better memories.”

Frank stared at the building and back at his girl.

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