#(spiral. duty. argument)

[bluebudgie]

What I've learned from notes on yesterday's balance patch breakdown saga is that a) my hot take isn't actually much of a hot take at all and b) chronomancers in particular have been suffering for about 100 years now (my condolensces)

[rafecameronssl4t]

ok hear me out........

dcc!reader watching Rafe get hurt during a game. Maybe they get into a small fight before the game and it gets into Rafe's head a little too much and throws off his game mindset

Feel free to totally ignore this if you're not vibing with the idea! Anyways I love all of you're writings, keep up the amazing work queen!!!!!!

Duties to whom? || Nfl Player!Rafe Cameron x dcc!reader

A/n: thank u for the request i love it!!!

Warnings: angst,

Word counts: 1,795

MASTERLIST (nfl!rafe x dcc!reader au masterlist)

The locker room felt stifling, the tension between you and Rafe thick enough to choke on. You stood in front of the mirror, carefully fixing your lipstick with steady hands despite the storm brewing inside you. “Just get out,” you said bitterly, dabbing at the corner of your mouth before tossing the tissue onto the counter.

Rafe, still in his uniform, stared at you in disbelief. His hands were on his hips, his chest rising and falling as though he’d just come off the field. “What?” he snapped, his tone laced with frustration. You turned your head slightly, catching his reflection in the mirror. “Have you forgotten that we have jobs to do, Rafe?”

“Jobs?” he repeated, his voice rising as he took a step closer. “We haven’t even finished—” “Well, I’m finished!” you cut him off, spinning around to face him fully. Your eyes burned with the remnants of the argument that had spiralled out of control. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore, so just go.”

Rafe’s scoff echoed in the small room, his head tilting back in exasperation. “Unbelievable.” You turned back to the mirror, refusing to meet his gaze. The silence stretched out, broken only by the faint hum of the stadium crowd filtering through the walls. “You always do this,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, but the accusation hit its mark.

“Do what?” you shot back, spinning on your heel. “Stand up for myself? Refuse to sit here while you act like you’re the only one who’s stressed? God forbid, right?” Rafe ran a hand through his damp hair, his frustration palpable. “That’s not what this is about, and you know it.” “Then what is it about, Rafe?” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Because I’m tired of having this same fight over and over again. It’s exhausting.” For a moment, he didn’t respond. His jaw tightened, and he looked at you as though searching for the right words, something to break the cycle you were both caught in. “You think this is easy for me?” he finally said, his voice quieter but no less intense.

“Balancing all of this? The games, the media, us? I’m trying, okay? But every time I slip up, you act like I’m the bad guy.” You blinked, his words catching you off guard. “Just please,” you said, voice cracking as you turned to face him. “Get out, Rafe. I can’t perform like this!”

Your words hung in the air, and for a second, his expression flickered with something softer—regret, maybe—but it was quickly replaced by a storm of his own. “And you think I can?” he roared, throwing his arms up in exasperation, “you think it’s any easier for me?” “Well, you’re going to have to, aren’t you?” you snapped, your voice sharp as a whip.

The anger in your tone startled even you, but you didn’t care. You were too far gone, too wound up from his relentless push and pull. You turned back to the counter, furiously zipping up your makeup bag with enough force that the sound echoed in the quiet room. The air between you was suffocating, charged with unspoken feelings and unresolved tension.

“I don’t even know what you want from me anymore,” Rafe muttered, his voice quieter now but no less intense. “I want you to stop!” you said, turning around to face him, your boots clicking loudly on the concrete floor as you moved. “Stop acting like everything’s about you! Like your stress is the only thing that matters. I have a job too, Rafe, and you—” Your voice faltered for a moment, but you pushed through.

“You’re making it impossible for me to do it right now.” He stared at you, his jaw tight, hands resting on his hips as if he was holding himself back from saying something he’d regret. You didn’t wait for a response. You couldn’t. Grabbing your pom poms, you stormed past him, your boots echoing with each step. “Good luck out there,” you threw over your shoulder, the words biting and sarcastic.

“Yeah, thanks for the support,” he called after you, but there was no real venom in his voice. Just frustration, layered with something that sounded an awful lot like defeat. You didn’t look back. You couldn’t afford to. Not with the performance waiting for you just outside the tunnel and the man who could unravel you with a single glance standing behind you.

~

From the moment Rafe walked out onto the field, you could tell his head wasn’t screwed on properly. Even as you called out formations and checked on the other cheerleaders, your eyes kept drifting toward Rafe. Something about his movements was off—less sharp, less calculated. The usual precision that made him one of the best in the league wasn’t there, and you knew exactly why.

The argument in the locker room had been raw, cutting deeper than either of you realised at the time. You thought you’d tucked your emotions away, but the nagging guilt wouldn’t let up. And now, watching Rafe stumble through a game he’d normally dominate, it was clear he was still carrying the weight of your words.

This wasn’t how you wanted him to play—frustrated and reckless. By the second quarter, it was painfully obvious to everyone that Rafe wasn’t himself. His passes were less precise, his footwork shaky, and his frustration was evident in every misstep. The crowd, normally electric in their cheers for him, began to murmur uneasily.

“C’mon, Cameron,” one of the announcers said over the loudspeakers. “What’s going on with him tonight?” You swallowed hard, your chest tightening as you watched him try to shake it off, slapping his helmet and pacing on the sidelines. You could see it in his body language—he was spiraling.

And then it happened. Midway through the third quarter, the Cowboys’ defensive line broke through, faster than Rafe had anticipated. He dropped back, eyes scanning the field for an open receiver, but his timing was off. His hesitation cost him. A linebacker barreled into him with full force, slamming him to the ground.

It happened to close to you, the impact was deafening, the sound of bodies colliding and helmets crashing together making your stomach lurch. The crowd gasped, the air heavy with tension as the trainers and medics rushed onto the field. You froze on the sidelines, your routine momentarily forgotten as Rafe crumpled to the ground.

You watched as he tried to sit up, his hand clutching his shoulder, pain etched into his features. The trainers helped him to his feet, and he waved off their attempts to cart him out, insisting he could walk. But the stiffness in his movements, the way he cradled his arm, told you it wasn’t minor. You didn’t even think about it.

The moment halftime hit, you were running toward the tunnel, ignoring the whispers of the staff your and the curious looks of the crowd. When you found him in the medical room, he was sitting on the edge of a table, his shoulder iced and his jersey pulled halfway off. He looked up when you entered, his expression darkening for a moment before softening as he took in your worried face.

“You’re supposed to be with your team,” he said flatly, though his tone lacked its usual bite. “And you’re supposed to be on the field,” you shot back, stepping closer. “Are you okay?” He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Took a hit. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” “Rafe…” Your voice broke slightly, and you stepped closer, your eyes scanning him for signs of serious injury.

Rafe looked away, jaw tightening. “I wasn’t focused,” he admitted, his tone low and bitter. “That hit? It’s on me. I let our fight get to me.” Your stomach churned. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I didn’t think—” “That’s the problem, isn’t it?” he cut in, his eyes finally meeting yours. “You didn’t think. You just threw all that at me and expected me to shake it off like it didn’t matter.”

You flinched but held his gaze. Your guilt surged, and you bit your lip, unsure of what to say. Finally, you reached out, your hand brushing against his uninjured arm. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to throw you off. I was just… angry, and I took it out on you.” For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, Rafe let out a heavy sigh, running his uninjured hand through his hair.

“Look, I know I wasn’t perfect out there tonight. But I can’t play when my head’s a mess. And you…” He trailed off, his voice softening. “You’re always in my head, and maybe that’s not always a good thing, but it’s the truth," A soft chuckle escaped his lips, breaking the tension, and despite yourself, a small smile cracked across your face. You stepped closer, hesitating before resting your hand on his good shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “For making it harder. For not realising how much you care.” Rafe glanced up at you, his eyes searching yours. “We’re both under a lot of pressure, but we can’t keep doing this." You nodded, your throat tight with emotion. “I’ll try harder. I promise.” He gave you a small, tired smile, the tension between you easing just slightly. “Me too.”

The sounds of the stadium filtered in from the hallway, a steady hum of cheers and announcements. It was a stark reminder that both of you had jobs waiting, responsibilities to uphold no matter what had just unfolded between you. “I gotta head back before Kelli and Judy ask for my head,” you sighed, the weight of your position tugging at you. But before you turned away, you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

It was brief, but it held everything you couldn’t yet put into words—an apology, a reassurance, a promise. Rafe’s lips quirked into a lazy grin as you pulled back, his usual cockiness tempered by the warmth in his eyes. “I’ll survive,” he teased, his voice rough but lighter than before. “You know me—tough as nails.” “You’ll be okay,” you murmured, your hand lingering on his uninjured shoulder for a moment longer.

It was a gentle touch, meant to steady him, to remind him that no matter what had happened earlier, you were still here. He nodded, his grin softening into something almost boyish. “I always am.” With a reluctant sigh, you turned and made your way back toward the tunnel, the click of your boots echoing in the corridor. You could feel his eyes on you, watching as you straightened your shoulders and stepped back into the bright lights of the stadium.

[galedekarios]

emmrich & regret

emmrich: rook? darling? i wanted to say... rook: yeah, about that argument... emmrich: (sighs) it's no time to apologise, is it? rook: we'll talk back home, emmrich. i promise.

currently thinking about the fact that this is the last thing that emmrich and rook truly talk about before everything falls apart on tearstone island and they can't even do it in private, because the one chance they had, their moment to do so turned into an argument.

and not only did one friend die.

and not only is another friend missing, presumably also dead.

no, on top of all that tragedy -- that affects them all because the companions do care about each other. no matter who you picked, it's tragic: emmrich's picknick with harding and the long talks about their pasts, his discussions and warmth with bellara, his respect for neve and the little ways she cares so much, his friendship with davrin and the way both learn from each other in how to care for those in their care -- rook is gone, too. vanished.

and the last private moment they had ended in a heated argument.

i am willing to bet that "we'll talk back home, emmrich. i promise." is something that haunts emmrich during those long, long weeks that rook is trapped.

"we'll talk back home, emmrich. i promise." - not only is the use of 'home' very poignant and loaded and heatbreaking, but... they never do get to talk. then they never do get home. it's only he who does.

it's a promise broken.

it's a huge regret.

it's one of those little things that seem overwhelming in the face of loss and grief. the little things that you never got to do. the little things that you never get to make right. the little things that you never get so say. the way should have, could have, would have makes you spiral.

and emmrich would know, does have experience with it after losing his parents so abruptly, as well as within his professional duty's as a watcher, yet i think that would weigh heavily on him.

he's not prepared to lose rook. we see that time and time again in his human path and in his lich path as well:

emmrich: i will lose you to time, rook. what if i can’t bear that for eternity? - emmrich: i’m afraid i’ll mourn you forever.

i think it also explains very well why he insists on the visit to the necropolis, despite what's looming over the group. at first i thought it's a bit frivolous at this point in the game, until i realised why. he does it to be truly absolutely sure that all traces of whatever solas did to rook are gone:

emmrich: rook, dearest, please trust me. i must take you to the necropolis before we confront elgar'nan. - rook: did we have to risk visiting the necropolis? emmrich: i needed its subtler enchanments to detect what we must know. emmrich: there's no mark of the curse solas left on you. emmrich: darling, i thought i'd lost you forever in the fade. rook: if you and the others hadn't pulled me out...

emmrich doesn't want to repeat his (perceived) mistake. he doesn't want to lose them again, to leave things unfinished and to regret again.

and while i did wish we had an additional scene where we actually do have a chance to both address the argument rook and emmrich had in a meaningful way, addressing what happened after as well as emmrich's fears, it makes this final line in the romance scene all the sweeter:

emmrich: whatever is in store for us - together, my darling. that's how we'll face it. rook: i know.

[apricot-blossomss]

hihi!! may i please request an apollo x reader where he pleads for them to take them back after a minor argument, and apollo, in the heat of the moment and feeling petty, breaks up with reader

☛ apollo broke up with you over a stupid argument and begs you to take him back

☛ sfw, angsty, fluffy ending; tw: self deprecating thoughts; thank you for 100 followers!

He messed up. Badly.

His hand shook over the paper but he couldn't think of another verse. Or rather: there were so many swirling around in his mind, expressing regret, loathing himself, worshipping you and asking for forgiveness, that he couldn't find one to write down. With a frustrated groan, he buried his head in his hands.

"Lord Apollo?"

"Hm?" He said, begrudgingly looking up from his miserable laments and at the Muse Clio. She, as well as her sisters, had free access to the god's sacred gardens, though he would have preferred solitude right now. And he could not bear her pitiful looks, even though it was Clio's standard expression.

"I was sent by your high father," she said and came closer to the bench were the god had sprawled out all the heartbreak and breakup songs he had written in the last forty-eight hours.

"Sit," he said without putting away his pen. Instead, he started writing, but even though his words would have brought the highest poets to shame over the mediocrity of their verses, it still didn't feel enough for you. If he wanted to get you back, he'd have to do it properly, with the most masterful piece he had ever written.

Clio sat down on the small part of the bench that wasn't covered in music and lyric sheets, letting her eyes scan over them. Jeez. Whoever you were, you had to have done quite the number on the god. When she looked at him, he was feverishly scribbling on a fresh paper, looking like a madman. "Your father," she began carefully. "urges you to leave these gardens to tend to your godly duties."

"Tell him to shove his urges up his ass," Apollo grumbled and earned a skeptical look. "Come on. I'm sure you'll find a nice way of expressing the same sentiment."

"I have another message, from your sister," she added and he grimaced, a bitter feeling at the back of his throat. "Tell her I won't have her mockery." The muse fell silent, sad, worried eyes tracing his features.

"You can leave now," the god said in a monotone voice and without another word, Clio was gone. As so often in the last fort-eight hours, Apollo felt the tears sting in his eyes once more and leaned back to drape an arm over his face. But the darkness only brought the image of the fight back.

How could he have been so stupid, so hurtful and petty? It was an argument about a fucking a/c unit. It hadn't even been an argument initially. Just harmless banter, until he had overstepped and said something hurtful. And when you snapped back, he had felt hurt and lashed out. Stupid. He was so stupid. The whole thing started spiraling out of control until he had shouted back the fateful words.

"If you can't take a joke, maybe we're not right for each other"

The guilt ate him up from the inside. The image of your widened, teary eyes was burned into his brain, he saw it every time he closed his eyes, and every time he did, his heart squeezed so painfully that he wished someone would take mercy on him and shoot him with his own arrow. And no ink in the world would draw the pain out. Only one thing could- you.

You scrubbed aggressively at your kitchen sink, even though it really was not to blame for your current situation. "Stupid," you muttered to yourself as you forcefully scoured at a stain at the side of the sink. But it wouldn't wash away a bit. "Fucking thing," you muttered, scrubbing even harder. Finally, you gave up and took a deep breath through your nose. "Fucking shit"

Your doorbell rang and you ignored it. Like the last two days, you would self isolate and obsessively clean your house- that was how you coped with having the most stupid, petty idiot of a god as a boyfriend- now ex-boyfriend. The thought stung. And even more so, because as much as you would like to pretend it was, this wasn't all on him. The bell rung again, and you sighed, throwing your towel in the sink and opening the door with a little more vigor the necessary.

"Can I help y-" The words died on your tongue. Cool, silver eyes had you forgetting how to articulate a single word as the woman in front of you looked you up and down. She was gorgeous, in a wild way. Dark hair braided and of truly majestic posture, in a flowing dress and a bow over her shoulder. You felt your whole being shiver at the sheer might of her presence- something you only felt with Apollo, only that it felt much warmer and exciting with him. Your mouth knew before your brain registered her appearance. "Lady Artemis"

"You," she said, and the tone of her voice had you stiffen up, as if she had shouted. Her scrutinizing stare had you sweat and you dug your fingers into the palms of your hands nervously. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Th-thank you," you stammered, too panicked to think of anything else to say. Was she here to take revenge on you? Apollo would never allow that, that you were sure of. But who knew whether they cooperated?

"Your appearance doesn't live up to your reputation," she said coldly, but it didn't sound like an insult. The goddess studied your expression and sighed, a hint of exhaustion in her tone. "It must be something else about you then. Something that warrants this level of drama."

"I was hardly the one who started it," you bit back and regretted the words the second they left your mouth. Biting down on your tongue, you winced at your stupidity. "Please forgive me, that was out of line." Great. Insulting her brother in front of Artemis was surely the best move.

"He thinks the same." You looked up at her and were surprised to find her smiling a very slim smile. "You should see him, he's an absolute mess, drowning in his guilt."

"Oh," you said, without a hint of worry or remorse. Instead, you felt a sense of relief. He cared. He felt guilty. He was drowning in his misery. Artemis lifted her brow at your neutral expression and you shrugged. "It's nice to be appreciated."

"You are appreciated, alright," the goddess said under her breath as she remembered the tortured sappy breakup songs her brother had been bothering everyone with. Sickeningly enough, he was really good at those, so everyone was getting depressed. Even though Artemis tended to spend her time away from Olympus, she herself could feel the effects of this misery. And she was sure many gods would breathe a sigh of relief once the whole mess was settled.

"Look," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose as if she was having a migraine, which of course wasn't possible for gods. "Can you just take him back, mortal? He's awfully broken up and making everyone miserable."

"I'm not asking him to take me back," you said stubbornly. You may have had your part in the argument, but he was the one who ended things and your pride didn't allow for you to crawl back to him. "If he wants me back, he can tell me himself, I'm very sorry."

There was a short but noticeable silence. Then: "I understand." The goddess smiled. You were starting to live up to her expectations. "But he's just as stubborn as you and he won't get his ass down here until he has crafted 'the perfect song' to ask for your forgiveness." The thought did make your insides flutter. "How about a deal? I'll take you to my temple and make him fix this on the spot."

Not daring to refuse the proposal, you nodded and her hand got a hold of your upper arm. "Close your eyes" Instinctively, you followed her instructions. Even though you felt nothing, not even a hush of air, when you opened your eyes, you were in the most magnificent hall you had ever seen. Marble all around, with a high, open ceiling and trees invading it through the windows. A mix of ancient monument and forest.

When you turned around to ask the goddess whether this was Olympus, she was gone. You were alone, as small as an ant between the towering walls. They were so monumental it was almost claustrophobic- or rather, the opposite. Just as terrifying. The space made you feel tiny and insignificant and with those feelings came an unexpected dread:

What if he didn't want you back?

Why would he? He was a god, he could have his pick of hundreds of millions of people, people that were prettier than you, smarter than you, more exciting than you. It was like the walls were threatening to crumble, your breathing picked up and you tried to breathe through your mouth slowly, but not getting enough air only accelerated your sudden panic. What if he came in here and told you to go, that he didn't need you, didn't want you? That you couldn't even take a joke and you shouldn't be with one another? The scrutinizing look in her eyes as Artemis had looked you up and down was burned into your memory. Your appearance doesn't live up to your reputation.

He wrote you songs, you tried to remind yourself. He was being petty, that why he broke things off. Artemis says he regrets it, she said he wants you back. But you couldn't believe it- not really, no matter how often you tried to tell it to yourself. He wants you. But why would he? He loves you. Why you? There was no clock in the temple, of course, but it had been some time already . Would he even show up?

The tall stone doors were opened with such force they met the walls in a loud bang. Flinching hard, you shot around and saw him standing there, in between the doors that were creaking in protest of being handled with such force. You met his eyes and in that moment you knew you had already forgiven him. If a gods eyes could be bloodshot, his were. His usually effortlessly perfect hair was disheveled and his hands covered in ink. They hung powerlessly at his sides, as if they didn't know what else but the door to use their strength on. He looked like shit, and you felt love swell in your chest.

But you couldn't let him know. Pressing your hands to your hips, you lifted your chin. "I knew you'd come back" Liar "I just wouldn't have thought it would be this quickly," you said, sounding much more self assured than you had ever been in your life, much less now.

The god walked towards you, as if he were dream walking, raising a hand like he was about to caress your cheeks but slumped down in front of you instead, kneeling before you on the marble floor. "I am a fool."

"Yes," you said, nodding and gulping down the burning in the corners of your eyes. Because you couldn't stand the self loathing in his features, you studied a blooming cherry tree that was waving through one of the tall windows. When you felt hands on your hips, your own hands shot down but when they met his, your fingers curled around his and he let out a long breath.

"I am such a stupid, stupid moron," he emphasized and you finally managed to look down at him. The genuine regret in his eyes took your breath right out of your lungs. "Please... my love..." His hands closed around your smaller ones and he brought them to his face to put his head in his hands. You let him. "Please, forgive me. I was so stupid, please, take me back. Love?"

"Hm?"

"I'm so so sorry"

Not trusting your voice, you started caressing his cheeks and he sighed into your ministrations, kissing the palm of your hand softly. Teary eyes shone up at you and you looked back. Just when you opened your mouth to formulate an answer, he tightened his hold on you, while simultaneously reaching behind himself to grab a stack of scribbled-on paper out of nowhere and pushing it into your hands. "I tried to make the perfect one for you, but I failed. I'm sorry, my love."

As you read through the words, your heart started beating loudly in your chest. In disbelief, you read them through as the god still clung to your body. "Are these ... about me?" you whispered as your eyes skimmed over words of adoration and love, of appreciation and utter devotion, of little things you did that you had never noticed, or you had thought mundane- but he hadn't.

"Yes," he breathed. He didn't make a sound when he rose to his feet, though still hunched over in shame. His warm hands massaged your waist as they were carefully scanning your expression for your reaction. "Do you like them?" You had to like them, or he would lock himself in tarterus and throw away the key.

"I-" you stammered, voice hoarse. All your doubts, all your anxiety of being good enough... as you read through the words, they slowly erased them bit by bit. Your fingers were shaking so hard the paper trembled in your hands and you could feel the tears well up in your eyes. "Love?" He sounded worried, and you had to make yourself look up from the beautiful words to smile at him. "Yes, I like them. They're beautiful."

Thank god. "I'll make it all up to you, I swear," he said gravely, taking your face into his hands. "I will compose and sing operas to your magnificence, I will grant you every wish, I will never make you cry again, I promise"

"You just did," you laughed through your tears and pressed the stack of paper to your chest. "Can I uh- can I keep them?"

"Of course, silly. They are yours," he hummed, looking into your eyes with a look in his eyes you couldn't quite place. Maybe longing. Desperation. "Please, my love, take me back and I shall never make you suffer again."

"Alright," you said, smiling up at him and wiping away the saltine wetness on your cheeks. "And- I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that, you didn't mean it like that and I was just being stupid and overthinking and- I'm sorry."

Vehemently, Apollo shook his head and shushed down your apologies. "No no no, love, this was on me, just on me. I hurt you, I made you cry and I ... I can't get that out of my head." His voice sounded strained.

"Apollo?" Now, it was his eyes threatening to overflow with tears. "Why did you come back?" He looked at you as if you had just said the most bewildering thing ever. "I mean... you could have just left me. But you didn't." A small, bitter laugh escaped you. "I lied, you know? I didn't know if you would come back, I thought you might just not care that much."

"How could you ever think that?" he asked, as if he really couldn't believe it, and you laughed. "Because I hate myself?" It was meant to be a joke, but your puffy eyes and sniffs didn't do a lot of convincing on that end, you feared. The pained look in his eyes almost made you cry again, not even for your sake, but for his, because how could someone look this tortured and not break apart.

"You are the most amazing woman- the most amazing person- I have ever had the privilege of loving," he confesses. "I love you."

The genuinity in his words took your breath away, and you didn't get a chance to get it back because his lips crashed onto yours in a heated, desperate attempt to convince you of his words. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you kissed him back feverishly as relief flooded your whole body and you started relaxing in his arms. He could feel you slumping against him and chuckled into your heated kiss, angling your head just right for him to deepen the kiss, holding you securely and dipping you down. You giggled, fully entrusting him with yourself, and he smiled through the kiss.

"You are divine," he groaned, placing kiss after kiss on your swollen lips and you laughed lightly before the way of it was swallowed by his loving ministrations. "Says the literal god."

"APOLLO!"

Flinching, you broke away from the kiss just enough to see a very pissed off Artemis standing in the doors of her temple and glaring at her brother who frowned right back. "You're interrupting, sister."

"You are in my temple! How dare you do this in my temple you little shit?" When she whipped her head around to you, you buried your fingers in Apollo's tunic, already seeing your life flashing before your eyes, but against all expectations, she gave you a genuine smile. "If you don't want to take him back, I might still have a spot for you under my followers, you could join my huntresses, dear."

"That is a very gracious offer, but I fear I have to decline it, I'm sorry," you apologized and she tutted, though she didn't seem resentful.

"Ha!" Apollo grinned and she smacked him. He let her, grinning boyishly and hositing you up into his arms. You didn't protest, you were too dazzled by his unbelievably bright smile that had your heart explode into a thousand bubbles that popped all over your stomach, tingling. "Love, how do you feel about getting out of here?"

Waving at Artemis, you couldn't help your own smile. "Bye! And thank you, my lady!" She gave you a small smile and exchanged a look with Apollo that was more firm. Smiling at her, he glanced down at you and tightened his hold. "I know."

"Go!" his sister told him, shoving his shoulder, and in the flash of a second, you were surrounded by trees and flowers and sweet smells. A garden. Unmistakably divine, because no mortal place could be of such beauty.

Apollo set you down on a golden bench and sat down himself, pulling you into his warm arms. A long sigh left your mouth as you smiled at him, at his beauty, his smile, his shiny eyes. It felt so intimate, the way he was smiling back and pressed a kiss to your temple, huffing out a warm breath against your skin that was slowly warmed up by the sun. "Where are we?" you finally asked.

"My gardens," he answered, caressing your face with trails of sweet kisses. "Do you like them?" You nodded, admiring the colors as he was worshipping your face with his lips.

"Do you want to have them?"

"What?" you laughed, turning to look at him and fully convinced that he must be making a joke. But the expression on his face was undoubtedly honest. "N-no thanks," you mumbled and rested your hand on his shoulder. Your fingers interlaced with his.

"Do you know what Artemis told me before she happened to mention you were waiting for me at her temple?" Shaking your head, you started playing with his fingers when his captured your ring finger and his lips ghosted over your ear in a way that had you shiver in spite of the warmth of his sunny gardens. "She told me if I wanted you back forever, and if I loved you as much as I said, I should just put a ring on it."

"What?" you laughed instinctively, because you had built a wall around the topic for the both of you. What you had with Apollo wasn't permanent- it couldn't be, because you weren't permanent. What was he even talking about?

"I mean it," he said, so earnestly that the laughter died on your tongue. He brought your hand up to his lips and pressed his lips to your knuckles, your ring finger. "I would drag myself through eternal suffering for a life you. If you preferred a mortal life, I'd leave Olympus for you. I would kill anyone who hurt you, anyone ever made you feel small. I'd do everything for you, and I don't want to regret anything more."

Breathlessly, you searched his features for deception. "Apollo... you had thousands of lovers before me. Why me?"

He looked thoughtful and absentmindedly drew circles on your thigh. "You're right. I have loved plenty, and I have loved deeply every time. But even though it was genuine, it was never long, and that always worked for me, in some way." You felt the caress of his adoring eyes on you as you stared at your hands, trying to process his words. "It wouldn't work with you, never. And I would never be okay with it. I want you forever- or at least for as long as possible, as long as you want to."

There was a downside to dating Apollo, and it was the fact that your stammered confession and your attempts at wooing him with loving words crippled pathetically next to his flawless love poetry, his sure words and articulation. You really didn't know how to possibly give him an answer, other than leaning up and kissing him, as gently as the summer breeze, and thinking: if you could have this forever, what more could you need?

When you broke the sweet little kiss, you couldn't suppress a giggle and he raised an eyebrow at you. "It's just..." you grimaced. "I can't believe we broke up over an a/c unit."

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

[egcdeath]

never go to bed angry

pairing: patrick zweig x reader

summary: under the immense pressure of the suburbs, you and patrick deal with the fallout of an argument. 

word count: 1.9k

warnings: domesticity, PTA, a little angst, mostly fluff, you have a (currently unnamed) child, you’re a little emotionally constipated

author’s note: shoutout to 🫀 anon for breaking my writers block and inspiring this fic! i’m thinking that this will be part of a series of vignettes so let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any future fics! 

Every couple that had been married for a long time always gave you the same piece of advice: Never go to bed angry. 

Though this advice seemed simple, it was much easier said than done. Since your move to suburbia, the den of your home had become somewhat of a second bedroom to Patrick, a place where he could retreat in the aftermath of your arguments.

While you hadn’t argued much while you were hopping from city to city, living out of hotel rooms with your daughter and your athlete husband, the pressure of your small town had changed that completely. Now, your Cold War style arguments felt commonplace, and often left you sleeping alone in a bed that felt far too big for one person. 

Like many recent nights, tonight was one of those nights. You and Patrick had gotten into a small disagreement after he’d been much too outspoken at a PTA meeting, stirring up unnecessary drama with a few other parents for no real reason. That small disagreement spiraled while the two of you drove home, with Patrick insisting that his dispute at the meeting was completely necessary. You strongly disagreed. 

Your disagreement wasn’t made any better once you arrived back at home. The minute you relieved the babysitter of her duties, Patrick went right back to insisting that he was in the right in a situation where he was very obviously in the wrong. He continued to bring this up as he cooked dinner, leaving you no other option but to remove yourself from the situation. 

For the rest of the evening, you kept your negative thoughts to yourself. Clearly, your disagreement wasn’t very productive. 

While you were technically still in an argument, it was by far one of the more tame arguments you’d been in—which was why it came as such a surprise when you stepped out of the shower to find Patrick’s side of the bed vacant and pillowless. 

Disappointed, but not particularly surprised, you sat down in bed and patiently waited for sleep to take you under. 

Turning to your side, you secretly hoped that your daughter would burst into the room, seeking solace in you and her father after having a bad dream. As much as you’d love her company, you knew that this outcome was unlikely, since your daughter was starting to grow out of her phase of coming to you after having a nightmare. 

Part of you wished that Patrick would stroll right back in, ready to argue with you and plead for you to fight for your relationship. Though there was a time in your relationship where most of your arguments ended that way, Patrick hadn’t been doing much of that lately, realizing that you would rather ice him out than confront him with your feelings. With that in mind, you realized that you were likely on your own for the rest of the night. 

You sighed as you curled further into yourself, missing the weight of Patrick’s muscular arm holding onto you possessively and the practically unbearable heat of his body behind you. Even if you ended up separating during the night, it was rare that the two of you didn’t start your bedtime routine with a romantic cuddle. 

You glanced at the door to your bedroom, as if you could produce your husband from thinking about him hard enough. Despite your best efforts, Patrick did not come out to talk to you, nor did your daughter. 

In an abrupt movement, you sat up and got out of bed. You hastily began to walk towards your door, knowing that if you thought too hard about your actions, you might end up backing out. 

You shuffled out of your room, listening for the telltale sound of Patrick’s soft snores. When you didn’t hear them, you kept moving forward, passing your daughter’s bedroom and peeking into the room to find her sleeping peacefully. You reminded yourself that you weren’t just doing this for you, but for the sake of your family. 

The den was your next stop, where Patrick was lounging on his makeshift bed for the night. He looked up at you from a book as if he was surprised, although he’d certainly heard the sound of you making your way through your home. Maybe he thought you were stopping by the fridge for a midnight snack after your tense dinner ended in neither of you eating much. 

“Hey,” you greeted casually, as if you weren’t in the midst of a tense, domestic battle. 

“Hi,” Patrick replied, setting his book down and blinking up at you. You knew him well enough to recognize his confusion. You were never the person to break the ice after an argument, so what you were doing now clearly took him by surprise. 

“Can I sit?” you asked, feeling a little awkward standing above your husband. You slipped your hands into your pockets, hoping that having something to do with your hands would quell your anxieties. 

“Of course,” he said, scooting over on the couch-turned-bed and patting the spot he made for you. 

“I always forget how soft this is. We made a good furniture choice,” you commented as you sat, making polite small talk that easily danced around having to apologize or talk about your feelings. 

“It’s like we picked it knowing that I’d be sleeping on it every other night,” Patrick joked, though you didn’t find it particularly funny. “Sorry,” he followed up once he noticed your lack of laughter. 

“No, it was funny,” you assured him, not wanting to make things any worse. “It was just…” you trailed off. 

“Too soon?” Patrick asked, picking right up where you left off. He always seemed to be better at expressing these things than you were. That was one of the many things you loved about him. 

“Yeah. Are you staying out here tonight?” you asked, hoping your question would tell Patrick that you didn’t want him to sleep in the den without explicitly expressing it. 

“Depends. Do you want me to?” he asked, leaning over and pushing a strand of hair back behind your ear. You leaned into his gentle act of affection. 

“No?” you replied after a bit of hesitation. You didn’t want to pressure Patrick if he was angry enough with you to stay away from you, but you also didn’t want to be alone. 

“Honey,” Patrick began softly. “Just be honest with me. Do you really want me to sleep in here or come back to our room?”

You blinked at him, unsure of why it was so difficult for you to just be forthcoming with your emotions. It was always so much easier to express yourself when Patrick anticipated your needs. Surely, he knew that you wanted to sleep next to him. You always did. 

“You should come back. If you want,” you added the last part abruptly, hoping you weren’t pressuring him one way or another. 

“What do you want?” he pressed you further. 

Just as you opened your mouth to respond, you heard the familiar pitter-patter of your daughter’s feet. The two of you turned your attention to the girl, who was currently clutching a stuffed animal and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. 

“Did you guys build a pillow fort without me?” she asked, sounding a little offended as she approached the two of you. 

“Never! We were just about to invite you,” you lied easily, somewhat appreciative for the interruption in the midst of Patrick trying to teach you how to be direct. 

“Uh-huh,” she said, unbelieving as she crawled into your lap. Even as young as she was, she’d already taken on her father’s sass. 

“We’d never make a pillow fort without you, Bug,” Patrick told her, moving to sit next to the two of you. 

“Clearly, you just did,” she said with a pout. Her theatrics reminded you of Patrick, and how he always seemed to have his emotions written all over his face. You broke into a soft smile as you thought about the resemblances between your beloved husband and daughter. “It’s not funny, mommy.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right, it’s not,” you assured her. “How about this: We can go back to sleep tonight, and tomorrow we’ll all work together and make the most amazing pillow fort ever. Deal?”

“Hmm…” she pondered, putting her hand to her chin as she pretended to think about it, though she’d already made up her mind.  “Deal.”

As soon as you began to move your daughter off your lap, Patrick swooped in and grabbed her, picking her up and standing up at the same time. “You and Mr. Teddy are gonna have so much fun tomorrow,” he told her as he carried her to her room, your daughter giggling as Patrick booped her nose. 

“What are we gonna do?” she asked. 

“Maybe another tea party? What do you guys wanna do?” he asked, their voices fading as they made it back to her room.

You figured that you would take this opportunity to gather Patrick’s bedtime belongings back to your bedroom. If Patrick really wanted to know what you wanted, it couldn’t get more straightforward than you wordlessly moving all of his items. 

As you walked back to your bedroom with blankets and pillows in hand, you caught a quick glimpse into your daughter’s room, where Patrick was quietly talking to your very sleepy child. You wanted to linger, to watch him and remind yourself of how special your family was, but you decided against staring for too long. 

Still, it was an extremely cute sight. Overwhelmed with many emotions, you felt grateful that you picked Patrick to start a family with, despite some of the drama that the two of you stirred up. 

When Patrick returned to your bedroom, you were fluffing out his pillow on his side of the bed. He opened his mouth to speak, surely preparing to ask you about his moved belongings. Not wanting to deal with that conversation, you beat him to the punch with a simple, “C’mere.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, as he obediently climbed into bed with you. He looked at you expectantly, as if he was waiting for the next directions that would leave your mouth. Unfortunately for him and fortunately for you, you weren’t in the mood for words. 

You practically launched yourself at Patrick as you pulled him into a hug, tense PTA meeting, car ride, and dinner completely forgotten as you melted into his solid embrace. When the two of you slotted together like puzzle pieces, it was hard to remember why you were mad at him in the first place. 

Maybe you should talk about your argument, or how difficult it was for you to talk about your feelings, or how your husband’s outspokenness at meetings was beginning to take a toll on some of your friendships with other moms in the neighborhood—but none of that really mattered to you once you were back in Patrick’s arms. 

“I love you,” he told you as you buried your nose into your neck, soothed by his familiar scent and solid, comforting body. 

It was exactly what you needed to hear, a reassurance that at the end of the day, he would still be by your side, no matter the antics you’d put each other through. 

“I love you too.”

It wasn’t addressing the elephant in the room, but in that moment, it was enough.

[repressionmd]

a selection of housefics i love!

i will make a part 2 when i reach character limit :D currently there is just 11 fics here but i WILL be updating!

Playtime's Over or The One Where Cuddy Forces House to See a Child Psychologist - mskullgirl

author summary: Following the events of "Skin Deep" (season 2, episode 13) House spirals out of control and stops eating and sleeping. Cuddy eventually offers him a deal; five sessions with Dr. Addams, the hospital's resident child psychologist, in exchange for three months off of clinic duty. What could go wrong? word count: 48k my notes: SO GOOD!! such a fun analysis of house and it has potentially my favourite accidental child acquisition of all time

Everything He Wants - the_northwind

author summary: House discovers that Wilson is a better coping mechanism than Vicodin. There's no way this could go wrong. A rewrite of the season six finale and beyond where instead of Cuddy, Wilson goes to House's apartment after the crane collapse. word count: 11k my notes: has one of my favourite hilson fic argument scenes. they're dysfunctional and messy and SO in character i couldn't recommend enough

Hypothesis - IreneSpring

author summary: At the beginning of the month, James Wilson decides to break out of his depressive spiral by having an affair with the first woman who is not needy. By the end of the month, he is facing an existential crisis decades in the making. word count: 15k my notes: haha wilson you are gay (jokes aside this fic is actually so fun and silly and made me LAUGH at the hoops our wilson jumps through to eventually realise he didn't get anywhere anyway)

Under My Skin - rhythmofsnow

author summary: Thirteen has a meltdown. House is there to ground her through it. (Post 5x05 "Lucky Thirteen") word count: 1.4k my notes: caring house my beloved... autistic solidarity my even more beloved <3

Composed - ferretwhomst

author summary: compose verb /kəmˈpəʊz/ 1. calm or settle (oneself or one's features or thoughts). 2. write or create (a work of art, especially music or poetry). or: a sick, restless Wilson finds himself in need of House’s company late at night. House indulges him. word count: 2.2k my notes: SO BEAUTIFUL.... wilson is so gay and so melodramatic and house matches his freak so well and WRITES HIM A PIANO PIECE....... they're so soft with each other idk its just beautiful. please read this

Soothe me now, soothe me, old friend (eng) - culturenana

author summary: Wilson would love to – Wilson would like to do so many things, make the most of countless wasted opportunities, erase every mistake, since his time has shortened without any warning, cruelly consuming itself under every cough. / House holds him close as if he is about to slip from his arms, and neither of them has the courage to discern what this thing between them is. There is no excuse or rational diagnosis that could cover it up. word count: 7.2k my notes: oh my god this fic made me want to bawl its so beautifully written and i have been shying away from post-finale fics purely to save myself the heartbreak but im SO glad i didn't do that with this one. they mean everything to me ;-;

'Samson's Mistress Cut His Hair, Thus Removing His Strength' - Sparklesinthewater

author summary: Set in season 3. Stacy doesn't come back. Tritter doesn't interfere. But the drugs and the infarction keep getting House into trouble anyway. Wilson is trying his best (but his best may not be what's best for House). / Or, House gets himself a girlfriend. Life goes downhill from there. word count: a beautiful 129k my notes: hello? hello!!!! can anyone hear me!! fic of all time!!!! a novel in its own right, and i did in fact stay up till 3.30am finishing it. impossible to put down and did make me want to cry in places. absolutely stunning. would recommend to everyone

a thousand teeth (and yours among them) - itooaminthisepisode (anarchy_opossum)

author summary: Sometimes, when House gets too overwhelmed by his emotions, he gets a little bitey. This is five times House bites Wilson, and one time Wilson finally bites him back. word count: 10k my notes: GORGEOUS STUFF!! amazing characterisation with lovely internal voices <3 they're so them and it makes me so happy

i let you win, i love to lose - sesamie

author summary: a short thing inspired by the thought, "what if amber and wilson's sex tape was ***for house***?" it seems like exactly the kind of toxic manipulative thing amber would pull and bring wilson along for. so here it is! set after the finale of season 4, and wilson and house haven't spoken about everything yet. things are bad between them and that's where the angst in this comes from! word count: 4.6k my notes: this fic did irreparable things to my psyche i mean ACTUALLY i do find myself thinking about it as im going about my day. genuinely was blown away by the sheer power of the prose i'll be honest 😭

we peeled the freckles from our shoulders - flowersinapril

author summary: Greg is twenty-three and James is nineteen when they first meet as counsellors at a sleepaway camp in the Adirondacks. word count: 2.1k my notes: GOD THIS WAS SO BEAUTIFUL... AAAHHHHHH i dont even have any words. please read this. crops watered joy delivered will to live restored etc. oh my god.

I'd Make a Deal With God (I'd Get Him to Swap Our Places) - TheFandomLesbian

author summary: When Wilson receives his terminal diagnosis, House flees to the hospital chapel. He doesn't know how to pray, but he strikes a deal: his soul for Wilson's life. When Wilson goes into remission, he has no choice but to uphold his end of the bargain. / In which House learns nothing about God, but everything about worship, in the arms of his husband. word count: 11.3k my notes: HOLY FUCK.. obsessed and i mean Obsessed with love as religious Especially when it comes to gregory 'religion is meaningless' house like this was so... good. it was so good. house is so desperate and so in love and its the most delicious thing ever

[wishing-stones]

………. I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing your dreamtale headcanons 👀👀👀👀👀 I could literally ramble abt my own headcanons all day every day if it weren’t for the sheer amt of anxiety in my silly little head 😅

(i recommend clicking on the images to get a better read)

anyway a lot of thoughts about dream and dreamtale.

feat. one small dream thoughts

[mystsee]

DRIFTED ✦ SIMON GHOST RILEY

PART 1 ✦ NEXT

✦ about: you and simon were lovers, but simon´s duty drifted apart your relationship. 2 years later simon comes back after a long mission and reunites with his friends again, what he didn´t expect was seeing you again.

✦ content: afab reader, anxiety, blood mentions, graphic descriptions of violence, stalker ex, protective simon, pining, reunited love, civilian life, no mask, panick attack, eventual smut, psycho, no mentions of y/n

✦ a.n: an idea of the outfit i had in mind :]

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

STANDING before your mirror, cold winter air strokes your hair, you keep trying your best to conceal your puffy eyes with all the possible makeup you have. you couldn’t keep your thoughts in control, spiraling to the worst case scenario.

ever since you broke up with the crazy man, paranoia is all over you, triple checking your locks, telling your best friend where you’re going, until today.

-

lily bursts inside your flat “what the actual fuck is wrong with him?” you thought the same, not believing what you heard on the call “i don’t know if i should call the police, will they believe me? i have no actual proof of him calling me, the number was blocked” you said frowning, surprised how the situation escalated so quickly.

when you broke up with him it was crazy to say the least, he was becoming this crazy jealous boyfriend every time you travelled because of work. working for the government as a translator caused you to travel a lot. but every time you came back, he started making arguments out of nowhere, making you confused as into why he was so mad everytime you came back, slowly realizing he didn’t trust you.

he was following you everywhere on his phone, always texting you, practically exploding with anger if you didn’t answer in less than 5 minutes. god forbid if you were at a meeting with your phone on silence, hell would come when you came back to your flat.

when the breakup came, he started throwing all these false accusations of you, cheater, you don’t care about me, blah blah blah and threats, it took you a call to the police to get the bastard out of your flat. but that didn’t calm your nerves. his words on the phone call today resonating on your head:

“don’t think i forgot about you, ill get you back again” his sick voice making you feel ill, but you won’t let a man control you.

-

you agreed coming to the pub because if he dares to come close to you and do something, you would be in public, and there would be proof. what you never expected was seeing him again.

as soon as you walked inside, the cozy ambient put you at ease, it was a small pub, lightly decorated of christmas. it was saturday, so of course it would be full today. you saw lily approaching you, with a big mischevious smile on his face, finding it odd

"hey you!" you said to lily hugging her close "you won’t believe it! chris brought someone new today! said he’s an old friend from the military” said lily raising her eyebrows at you, making you laugh, you weren’t really interested to seeing someone new right now.

simon saw the interaction at far, wondering who was behind lily, she was covering her entire frame “got eyes on someone?” chris asked suddenly “what? no, just curious who’s behind her” the moment he said that, lily moved, making simon’s heart freeze.

he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. you. all dolled up, beautiful as ever, a long black coat not hiding your curves under the skin tight black dress at all, the all black outfit complementing your absolutely beautiful face, those black tights making your legs look lovely in those high knee boots, to say he was in a trance was the least, he didn’t even realize you were in front on him, a very deep blush covering your cheeks, your scarf not helping you at all.

“simon?” he missed your voice, your soft angelic voice that brought him comfort after the hell he endured in a long mission, your voice that assured him everyday that he was loved.

you heard him say your name, making your heart stop for a second, it’s been a while 2 years since you heard his deep voice. you just kept staring at him, a bit wide eyed.

he felt his voice thick with emotion, aching to touch you again and feel your soft hands on him “so you are the old friend huh” you said after simon didn’t moved at all he was shocked

what a small world you thought “you know him?” asked lily to you in a small voice “uhm, yeah! long time ago though”

-

you just parted ways and never contacted each other again you were scared you would bother him if you called to see how he was simon went to a long mission, kept small contact with you, but he could see the distance that was growing between you both. he understood the breakup, quite healthy actually, but that didn’t mean you didn’t love each other anymore, it was hard dealing with the distance.

2 years passed, simon thinking of you practically 24/7, wondering where you were, thinking if he should call you to see how you were, and 2 years of you trying to move on, never forgetting him, matter of fact, you kept thinking of the breakup over and over again, thinking maybe you made a wrong choice.

after a while you thought maybe dating again would help, but you accidentally picked a very wrong guy a psycho to catch feelings for.

-

you could feel his stare on you as you moved to sit next to him, the only seat left, even though the table was big, simon chose to sit on the side where he had no chairs beside him on both sides, so he could spread comfortably.

but now he had your knees on his left side, you bumped into them a little, muttering a small sorry, simon feeling warm inside after finally feeling you again

he was checking you out, similar to what you were doing, you noticed his arms got bigger, bulging from his hoodie, making your mind go to another complete direction, you hoped your scarf covered your cheeks.

as the night passed, simon saw the way you slowly passed from tipsy, to funny drunk, your scarf long forgotten, making simon eyes wander to your chest, he remembered that of you, everytime you drank, you literally became the embodiment of a comedian.

right now you were way too deep in a debate about cats, the wine making your head go back to what you usually debate when your drunk, cats plotting against humanity.

“i swear everytime those fur balls purr they get inside our minds” you slurred, confidently laying back on the chair nodding your head, “as soon as suzy makes that cute as hell sound, i’m on my knees for her, which is weird you guys! they are contrlling us!" grabbing your glass of vodka again, until you felt a hand on top of you

"okay okay! you know what?" chris's laugh was way too contagious, making you laugh with him as well "i think its enough for today, why don't we move this to your flat?"

after many failed attempts of trying to open your door, and laughing manically, you finally made it, inviting all in, you knew this was a good idea, chris and lily helped you plan all this, the closer they are with you, the less he could come close to you.

as simon passed in front of you, you made eye contact with him, all the memories came flooding back to you. you felt simon touch briefly your hand, making you feel warm inside.

everyone accommodated to your 2 big sofas in your living room, you had your small desk behind the sofas where you worked, and the kitchen on the right side, it was an open kitchen.

you, not wanting the party over, went directly to the kitchen to grab some wine “anyone wants a glass of wine?” they all said yes. the only ones missing were 2 of chris’ friends, they went to buy some beer.

after serving the glasses of wine, you remembered a talk you had with simon a while ago

-

“doll, you really need to make this posters, i bet people would buy them, they are way too original” said simon looking to you, locking his arms around you, you were on his lap finishing a design, and simon kept distracting you with his small kisses here and there, on your neck mostly

“maybe in the future i will print them” you said with a small smile, nervous to show your works.

-

you nudged simon on his arms with a small smile and moved your head to your left side, where your room was “i want to show you something” simon was up in an instant.

as you opened the door to your room, you heard simon inhale deeply behind you, the alcohol making you forget what you two did inside this room simon literally rearranging your guts every night, you grabbed his big hand and moved him to sit on the bed, simon was very confused, because why on earth is he in your room.

you went behind your bookcase, and grabbed a big poster on your hand “look, i finally did it” simon was at loss of words, it was a design you both made one night, it had a special meaning for you both.

you went to sit next to him “i print it to remember us” you said slurring a little, the alcohol was sure as hell making you very open to him. as you slowly put your head on his shoulder, simon freezed to the spot.

“i remember when we made it” his gruff voice said, giving you shivers down your spine, you were so close to him, feeling his heartbeat on you, wondering if he felt how fast was yours beating.

you moved your head up to look at him, and he could feel your eyes on him, not daring to move his eyes because he would definitely kiss you right there. you just looked so beautiful tonight. “i still do them on my free time, but this is the one i love the most”

your hand moved to his thigh unconsciously, you used to put your hand on his thigh anytime, you liked it. but you forgot you are in the present right now, and simon with his thigh tense “oh! sorry sorry! i think i drank a bit too much” you said laughing, standing up with the poster on his hand. “i-i need to go to the bath-bathroom, wanna join?” you said laughing and slurring way too much. when you moved to the door, your eyes widened, slapping your hand on your forehead “wait n-no, that’s when i shower, hah, for-forget my invitashion” you said nervously speed walking to your bathroom, leaving simon alone in your room, he laughed, he really missed you.

you grabbed your glass of wine after going to the bathroom, sitting next to simon on the sofa, he was really close to you, you could move just an inch and be on his lap, you really miss sitting there, your favorite spot, but your mind still has a bit of self control, so you just kept nudging him with your knee laughing, making simon feel warm inside for the 500th time tonight.

chris was telling a joke when you heard the doorbell ring, remembering the friends of chris went to buy beer, so, you stood up to go to the door alone, big mistake, you opened the door with a big smile on your face, until you saw him, on your door, with a deathly smile to you. any trace of alcohol in your body vanished, as well as your smile. you felt your heart stop for a second, fear coming all the way up to your throat.

your door had a small hallway, so your friends couldn’t see who was on your door, you just closed the door with any force you could “go away!” you muttered with a small voice, anxiety was making you not breathe well constricting your voice. simon heard that, making his breath stop for a moment.

you tried closing the door on him but he opened with a lot of force, almost breaking it. he started walking towards you.

“go away!” you screamed, trying to push him out of your apartment, but he had way too much strength. simon heard the scream and immediately stood up. in less than a second he saw your small frame pushed to the plant behind you making you hit your head. he saw this psycho push you even harder to the wall, making you whimper, and he went mad.

chris got there faster than simon, the sofa he was in was closer to the hallway, and tried pushing him out of you, but the psycho had more force than him, he just pushed him away to the floor.

you were on the floor, your nose bleeding, making you worried, even though your eyes were spiraling all over the room. you had your back to him making it hard to see his next move, a big punch on your left hip, making you scream.

the bastard stomped on your hip, a small crack was heard. your screams made simon see red. the man almost got on top on you, until simon grabbed him with all his force and moved him away from you, chris grabbed him and punched him in the face repeatedly, dragging him out of the apartment.

by then, you were crying hard, you couldn’t feel your leg anymore, there was blood on the floor, when did this happen? you felt the panick attack creeping up on you “simon?” you said in between breaths, lily was calling 911 near you. “i’m here doll, hey look at me, i’m right here” you tried finding him but you were seeing small spots on your eyes making you dizzy “fucking hell, lily we need to take her to the hospital” simon was panicked, you were about to go unconscious. who the hell was that guy?

“hey, doll, come on, look at me, yes just like that” you tried your hardest looking at him, but your leg hurted too much “my leg hurts! i can’t move it” you said between whimpers. simon tried to stand you up, but you just couldn’t “baby, you’ll be okay, try not to think of your leg okay?” you felt simon arms slowly carry you to the door, you were staining his shirt with your nose bleed, but he didn’t care, he just needed to get you to the hospital.

he managed to get you out of the door, until you started to see black all around you, the last thing you heard was your name from simon’s panicked voice.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

hiiii, so! how was part 1? i just finished writing this, but i’ll start tomorrow writing part 2, there’ll be little to no angst in this story i get way too anxious with that xd im a sucker for fluff so there will be quite a lot of fluff in here hehe

as you can see, i like adding a pic of the outfit jiji, but! feel free to imagine it as your own! :P

i had this story in my mind for like 3 months i kept daydreaming about it and thought huh 🤔 why don’t i make it a story , i finally wrote it down! yay #proud! anyways idk how many parts this will be, i’ll write the plot as it goes, but it will be most likely centered between reader x simon so! hope you liked it!!!

[rheanyraaaa]

broken pearls Robb Stark x Frey!Reader (oc inspired)

warnings: miscarriage, mentions of self-harming, mentions of past sexual assault and somewhat explicit, foul language.

side note: i’ve never watched GOT but i’ve watched my fair share of Robb Stark edits and have some understanding on what’s going on + have read lots of fanfic and done research so i can’t say this will seem super canon or make any sense.

this is my first time ever writing a fic on tumblr i hope you found it somewhat bearable (not proofread so might be so grammatical errors)

“whose heart is filled with love, God only loves that one person.”

summary: you miscarried recently, from stress of the war and Robb’s affair with Talisa. You thought it would stop after you married, but he still lays in her tent, now you’ve lost your baby. The one thing holding you together

You sit on the furs, on the floor by the fireplace, you thought married life to the Young Wolf would be kinder to you, you thought he’d show you things that you never got to understand, you were travelling with him, you were seeing more world then your father ever let you see. Yet somehow, despite the coldness of the Twins, you missed the halls, you missed your sisters and you missed the familiarity of it all.

Everyone here hates you, everyone here thinks little of you, despite being their Queen, you were practically a southerner after all, you could deal with the cold winds more then good enough, you could somewhat deal with the snares of the onlookers, and the looks of disgust. You didn’t get it, didn’t get why they had to do it, and you thought Robb would protect you from it.

It’s been a couple weeks since you spoke to him, you had argued, it was a big argument, you’d throw your whole jewellery box at him, you had gone hysterical mid fight, and probably threw a shoe at him at some point, he tried to calm you down, so did his mother, but you had spiralled. The words you said were unkind, blaming him for the death of his child was unkind. But you didn’t regret it, no you didn’t regret one word that came out of your usually sweet and nonchalant polite mouth, you had been waiting for a moment to break lose, and you felt like your father when you did. You felt like Walder Frey.

Everyone thinks your insane, and here you are sitting infront of the fireplace, on the furs, looking at how the red fire danced over the burning wood, they are probably right. Your eyes watery, red even, eye bags probably forming, but you couldn’t look away, something inside you was broken and has been broken for a long time, ever since you were fourteen, on a ambushed carriage, and three men deflowering you, each having their moment. You had told Robb this when you thought you could trust you, and he promised you he’d avenge you, but your sure he’s forgotten that promise now; sleeping in that bitches bed, no shame, you thought. She’s taken everything from you and you had every right to feel anger against her, she’s taken your husband, taken your mother in law, and is loved by the soldiers, while you are outcasted and considered as nothing less then the Frey wife.

You touch your now empty stomach, the baby that once thrived there all but gone, it was cold when Robb bedded you, but you liked the way he felt inside you, when he moved, or when you did, or the quiet noises he made, and the thin layer of sweat that covered you both, how he touched you, it seemed more respect then love, and after he made you cum he left the tent and probably went to tend to her. The baby was made out of fake love and duty no less, and died with no sympathy from the others.

Suddenly, the tent flap opened.

“Who’s there?” You asked, not looking from the fireplace, you knew it was him, the heavy boots against the floor made it obvious, the noise of the winds propelled outside and the loud clunking of metal armour made your dig your fingers into your side.

“mh, I want to speak to you,” His deep northern accent rumbled.

“Speak then, or do I have to order you to like a dog,” You grumble, picking at your nails, the fire light illuminating the scars over your wrists.

“She’s gone.” He said, his voice more quiet and soft then you’ve ever heard it.

“Who?” You ask, pretending to be uninterested.

“Talisa.” He spoke again, softly, You turn to look at him, trying not to show the slight joy you felt at never having to see her face.

“Finally. Did the winter chill finally kill her? or did a hint of water or rain burn the witch?” You rolled your eyes, and huffed as you continued picking your nails until they bleed.

“Enough. She’s not dead. I just sent her away from camp. My mother’s word not mine.” He growled, not looking away from you from one moment. “Why won’t you look at me?” He asked once more, as he stepped closer to where you sat.

“I might burn my eyes I’m afraid.” You chuckled coldly, before actually looking at him.

He chuckled quietly, “You have quite the mouth on your, my lady” He said beside you, looking directly at you, his knee touching yours.

“Why is she gone though?” You barely whispered, more sweetly and more calmly then you’ve ever spoken to him in a long time.

“She caused you pain. You are my wife and you are supposed to be my priority, but duty…. well the war and what I loved blinded me. I need to put you first, I was supposed to put you and the baby first. I’ve lost one I don’t want to lose the other.” He sounded… somewhat sad, but also filled with acceptance and much more mature then he was the last couple of months, he had care in his voice and it made you feel fuzzy.

“You’ve made me feel more than alone. Have you now realised whatever pain you’ve caused me? have you now seen the way you’ve treated me, or has your mother needed to coddle you and make you realise yourself?” You replied sharply, you didn’t want to forgive him so easily, you didn’t want him to think he won.

“My mother was always on your side, and I am truly sorry. I want to try this again, and properly, I want to show you love, and I want to allow you to experience such. You are beautiful, you are more radiant than the stars and the moon, and I want to show that to you.” He responded calmly, looking at you softly, all the gruff in his northern tongue seemingly gone, as he quietly took a strand of your hair and played with it. “You lost the baby and it was my fault. I did it. I want you to know that I accept it, and I always will carry it deep in my heart.” He rumbled on.

“But why did you do it in the first place? make me feel so much pain, I thought you’d be a good man.” You softly cried into the palm of your hands, they were red and sore from biting and ripping the skin.

He slowly crept closer to you, swiping your tears with his huge hands and playing with your hair, humming softly as he pulled you into his chest and let you cry into there instead.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry love.” He said over and over again like a prayer, as you snuggled into him, you hated that you cried infront of him and we’re all vulnerable, you promised you’d never let anyone get close to you but he was breaking all the barriers and you didn’t know how to handle it.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me now, nor anytime soon, but for now on I will sleep in your bed. It will be our bed. And if any man gives you one wrong look or one whisper about you then I will have his head on a spike.” He said more rougher then before, his palm stroking your back as you hid your face in there.

“And we will mourn our baby, properly.” His hand splayed across your now empty stomach. “I am here to do my duty of loving you and protecting you, I am doing my duty as King, and as your husband. I had forgotten my father’s teachings but I remember them now, my love.” He said into your ear, as he looked onto the fireplace, as you nodded slowly into his chest, you definitely hadn’t forgiven him completely yet, but he was understanding, and you knew that one day you were ready to forgive, he just needed to show he cared.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for tossing a drink?

I (F22) don't drink alcohol: I don't like the taste of it, I was hangover once and I didn't like it at all and there is a large history of alcoholism on both sides of my family so I don't want to tempt fate.

My friends (F21, M22, F23, M23, F24 and M25) have all asked why I don't drink and I have been honest to all of them on my reasons and most of them have been pretty understanding NGL but there is this one friend (F24) who has made it her "duty" on getting me drunk. I didn't know her reasons why until last night.

So, last night we were at M25's apartment, we had decided to make a get together and talk about everything and nothing ans just have a nice time. We all brought our drinks, they had bought alcohol which was cool I don't mind then drinking they are all very responsible.

We were chatting the night away with some pizza and drinks and everything was nice actually. At this point, everyone was still sober and I decided to excuse myself to go pee. When I returned, I took a sip of my soda and inmediately felt the taste of alcohol. I stood up, gave the drink to F21 to hold for me and went to the bathroom again where I spit the soda I had in my mouth.

When I returned my other friends were puzzled. I immediately asked who had spiked my drink. At first, nobody believed my soda was spiked until I asked F21 to try it. She confirmed it had alcohol.

I repeated my question. And F24 confessed that it had been her because she wanted me to let loose a little bit. I gave her my most disgusted look, asked for F21 to return my drink which she did and I tossed the soda down the kitchen drain in front of everyone.

F24 got mad because I was acting like a complete asshole but when I asked her if I was an alcoholic in rehab would it still be fun to get me to spiral back in. She got silent. Her next argument was that why I wouldn't just trade my drink with someone else, I answered that nobody besides me had brought non alcoholic drinks so it would have been a losing situation for me.

Then I asked my other friends how could they not have noticed she spiked my soda, they said they just didn't notice they were chatting which fair we were in a very safe space. F24 was trying to get our other friends to take her side but nobody was backing her up everyone thought that it was a dick move of her to do that.

She then started acting up as if she was the victim here, gathered all of her things and stormed off.

We carried on with our night but for some reason I felt guilty about it. My friends say that it's completely not my fault and that I stood my ground in a very respectful way but I still feel bad for ruining the night. They reasured me it wasnt ruined and we kept our day.

I woke up today still feeling as if I was the one I did something wrong, I spoke with everyone except F24 and everyone is telling me not to overthink it and that the one that deserves an apology is me but I'm still thinking I could have approached the situation better.

So AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[luvvictoria]

mad love // Mammon

( ♡ ) pairing : Mammon x fem!girlfriend!reader

( ♡ ) warning : f!reader, human!reader , NOT PROOF READ , jealous Mammon , kinda cringe

The tension in the room escalated, you couldn't help but feel a sense of weariness wash over you. The argument between Mammon and Satan had spiraled out of control, and now it seemed like violence was on the verge of erupting. Beel held Mammon back with a grip, trying to prevent any further escalation.

Satan's warning hung in the air, his frustration evident in his voice. He had reached his breaking point, unable to tolerate Mammon's jealous ass reckless behavior any longer. The demon of greed, however, seemed unfazed by the threat, his defiance shining through his retort. His stubbornness refused to back down, even in the face of potential consequences.

" All right , do it , punch me . See what will happen next ! " Mammon's challenge hung in the air, daring Satan to follow through with his threat. The room fell silent, the tension thickening with each passing second.

Satan yelled, "You wanted this!" and swung his fist, hitting Mammon in the face, causing his head to turn to the side. Levi watched the altercation and bit his lip, quickly looking away. "damn" he thought.

Asmo angrily grabbed Satan's arm, trying to calm him down. His fingers dug slightly into Satan's arm, preventing him from escaping "Let me go! I'm going to teach our brother a lesson," Satan angrily whispered.

Satan's rage burned hot as he Asmo tried to held him down . His eyes blazed with fury, his chest heaving with anger. The room seemed to crackle with tension .

Mammon, clutching his throbbing cheek, slowly regained his composure. Blood trickled from a split lip, staining his teeth crimson. His eyes narrowed, a mixture of pain and defiance flickering within them. He wiped away the blood with the back of his hand, refusing to show weakness.

Belphie came to your side and grabbed your arm. "Do something, [name]!" Belphie whispered-yelled at you. Feeling a sense of responsibility, you gulped and yelled at the two, "You two, stay!" Hoping that the pacts would make them listen to you, but unfortunately, it didn't work. Levi, confused and concerned, asked himself, "What's going on?"

Mammon shouted at Beel, hoping to be released, "Let me go! I’ll kill him ! "

"Oh, I'd be thrilled to witness your attempt! Let's find out what you're capable of," Satan challenged Mammon, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Beel glanced at you with a pleading expression. " [Name], restrain Mammon! If you're the one restraining him, he might regain his senses." His words resonated with you, and you felt a sense of duty to help calm Mammon down. With a nod, you approached Mammon, hoping that you could have some effect on him.

Whispering softly, you called out to him , " Darling, please " Your voice carried a mix of concern and affection, hoping to reach the Mammon you knew deep down. However, to your surprise and dismay, he didn't even spare a glance at you. With a forceful push, he brushed you aside, disregarding your presence entirely.

The room fell silent, the air thick with tension. Beel's eyes widened in shock, his plea for help now tinged with worry. Satan's smirk faded, replaced by a frown. It was clear that Mammon's anger had consumed him , blinding him to everything else, including the people who cared about him.

Satan sighed , calming himself down , and then with a disapproving shake of his head, addressed Mammon directly " You shouldn't have done that " he said sternly before leaving the room. Levi, not wanting to be a part of the drama, tsked and took Asmodeus by the arm. "Let's go, leave them alone," he suggested, and Asmodeus glanced back at Mammon with a hint of frustration " And you wonder why she doesn't want to spend time with you " Asmo hissed before following Levi and Beel out of the room, leaving you and Mammon alone.

Mammon's shoulders tensed up, his muscles visibly tightening under the weight of his emotions. The silence that enveloped the room spoke volumes, each passing second filled with an unspoken tension that hung in the air. It was as if the atmosphere itself had become charged with his anger, making it palpable and almost suffocating.

You could see the struggle within him, the internal battle raging behind his eyes. His brows furrowed, his jaw clenched, and his fists involuntarily tightened, betraying the turmoil he was experiencing. It was evident that he was torn between his emotions and his stubborn pride.

The hurt in his eyes mirrored the ache in your own heart.

You let out a sigh and glanced at your boyfriend "Hey, Mammon," you said, concern in your voice " I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have spent so much time with Satan." You apologized, knowing that Mammon doesn't like it when you hang out with other guys too much, especially his brothers .

Raising your hand, you firmly held onto his hand, causing him to stop trembling. Mammon stood there for a moment before turning to look at you, tears welling up in his eyes.

He turned completely towards you and embraced you tightly, tears streaming down his face filled with regret. His hand gently caressed your head as he mumbled apologies. " I'm sorry... I'm so sorry," he sobbed. "I never wanted to hurt you..." he cried.

" It's okay, love " you reassured him with a soft smile, wiping away his tears, your palms resting on his cheeks . Mammon gazed at you, trying to calm his sobs, his palms resting on top of yours.

You smiled softly and rested his head on your shoulder, soothing him with words of love. And suddenly, the monster within him fell asleep as he rested his head on your shoulder.

[queenie-avenue]

Ok hear me out👉👈

Katie finding out (in this case she got friendzoned LOL) that Reader is in a relationship with someone else?? How do u think she takes it??

I've been such a lurker for quite some time and i love ur content sm 🥺🥺🥺🥺 *sending kisses*

Rejection is never the End.

💌 ⤻ THE CHEERLEADER, KATIE WILLIAMS

—> she won't ever give up on you.

⤻ reader is gender neutral, reader has a girlfriend, no cheating, manipulation, possessiveness, obsession, typical yandere behaviour, gaslighting, reader gets drunk and katie takes advantage of her

notes: thank you so much for the ask, I'm so sorry it's taken so long for me to get to this!! no proof-reading, we die.

🦋⤻ archives.

If you have a significant other, Katie will no doubt be furious, especially if you reveal it to her just when she decided to confess to you, of all things. She will be pissed off, but will just smile at you and pretend that everything is a-okay. You wouldn't even suspect a thing.

Sure, at first it'd be awkward with you and her drifting just a bit — which causes her to almost have a meltdown and abandon her cheer captain duties for a while — but eventually after a month of two, you both would go back to normal.

The difference would be that now she had access to your relationship status.

And boy, would she make use of it.

Out of consideration for her feelings, you'd of course not talk much about your significant other but Katie, Katie wanted to know.

It started small, she liked to visit your dorm normally so it was a usual day of her coming to see you after cheer practice in her short shorts and pink t-shirts.

“Oh, those flowers are so cute, did your girlfriend get them for you?” Katie asked, lounging on your desk as she stroked the petals of the bouquet filled with your favourite flowers. “They are so pretty!” She squealed, grinning at you as you sat on your bed.

“Yeah, my girlfriend came over just the other day. It was fun.” You smiled back, wanting to keep details of your beau brief out of respect and love for Katie.

“Does she get you flowers often?” Katie inquired, eyes fixated on the flowers, back turned to you now.

“Not really. It was just a special occasion yesterday, our one year anniversary.” You exclaimed, clearly giddy about the fact you had been together with your girlfriend for a year.

“Fun.” She replied, tutting her plump lips. “So, why didn't I know about her? I mean, you showed me pictures once but you don't really tall about her that much.” Katie commented as she leaned towards you.

“We don't talk about our relationship much…” You mumbled. “I mean- she's like secretive about it. So not a lot of people know.” You shrugged your shoulders awkwardly. Oh, [y/n], you really were such a horrible liar. Katie could tell in an instant that the idea of you relationship being kept secret made you antsy, uncomfortable. If it were *her* that was your girlfriend, she'd be parading you around proudly. Why couldn't you see that?

“Huh.” She huffed, eyeing you up and down.

That was how it started.

She made use of your insecurities about your relationship with your girlfriend and weaponised them against you. Slowly, you grew more worried about whether the reason your girlfriend didn't want to reveal your relationship was because she wasn't proud to be with you, or she wasn't committed to being with you or worst, that she was being unfaithful towards you. Katie didn't help matters, subtly showing you those stupid YouTube shorts with reddit stories that talked about how people who didn't make their relationships known typically cheated on their partners.

You slowly spiralled into madness, growing resentful of your girlfriend and more appreciative of Katie. Eventually, you would break it off with your girlfriend when things became too hard for the both of you.

You kept starting arguments with your girlfriend over why she wanted to keep the relationship a secret, you became too needy for her validation and she was annoyed with you constantly picking fights with her and also your budding relationship with Katie who seemed to find a way to antagonise your girlfriend every single time. Katie egged you on, overanalysing each word your girlfriend said or texted to you and reporting what she thought back to you. Most of which just made you view your girlfriend in a horrible light.

Eventually, you broke up with your girlfriend.

Just like Katie wanted.

She would soon swoop in to comfort you, tell you that it wasn't your fault that the relationship didn't work. Your girlfriend was the red flag, you didn't do anything wrong!

“Come on, pom-pom. Cheer up, you'll find someone much better than her. You were too good for her ass anyway.” Smiled Katie as she dragged you for a night of partying at a fraternity.

You got wasted, of course; attempting to drown out the sorrow of your freshly opened wounds.

Katie's hand snaked around your waist as you danced to the beat of the music, the loud thumps banging loudly in your ear as you drunkenly relied on the cheerleader for support. Before you knew it, the dancing morphed into Katie pulling you into the bathroom, your legs wrapped around her waist as she leaned closer into you, both sat on the counter of the toilet. The vague sounds of people banging the door outside as you both gazed into each others’ eyes. “You feeling better?” She asked, dark eyes looking into yours intensely.

“I… I still miss her.” You slurred, slumping your body into Katie's neck, letting out a dry sob. The cheerleader hummed as she placed a hand on your waist, another under your chin.

“You don't need to think about her anymore, okay? I'm here for you.” She pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

Katie knew that you loved her, everyone did. It's just that your girlfriend was in the way. Now that she's not, you can be devoted to loving her, and only her.

[binniebakery]

Thornless Rose (1/3)

Prince!Yeonjun x Princess!Fem!Reader, strangers (one-sided enemies??) to lovers, Fluff! ♡ Summary: marrying oranada's "evil" prince was not on your bingo card for the year but hey we thug it out (im not good at summaries) ♡ Warnings: arranged marriage, mentions of minor character death (i swear the fic is not angst, pure fluff) more warnings as the fic goes on! ♡ A/N: Okay so this idea popped into my head, and who better fits this than yeonjun!! THIS IS JUST THE INTRO/PART ONE SO PLEASE STICK W ME HERE I PROMISE MY MAN WILL BE IN THE NEXT ONE!! this is my little valentines gift for you all!! I'm going to try to upload a part everyday until valentines! enjoy!! (always looking for feedback so pls lmk if theres anything i need to fix thanks!) ♡ Read:2/3 here! ♡

To say you were enthusiastic in the slightest to meet your so called “betrothed” would be the biggest lie to be told in your kingdom’s history. Then again, when did your opinion ever matter when it came to what you wanted? As a princess, the next in line to be queen to be exact, your kingdom always came first anyway. Your parents always did what was best for you and your citizens. “Y/n, you know your father will be most displeased if you decide to pass this opportunity. You’re his only daughter you know.” Your lady-in-waiting pleaded with a nervous smile as you sat on your bed next to the large luggage beside you, filled with clothing and necessities for your week-long trip. The thoughts of uncertainty that clouded your brain quickly were pushed aside the moment she entered your bedroom. After all, the full day trip that was ahead of you gave you plenty of time to think of what was to come. “I know but why must I be paired with someone I’ve never met. I’m sorry I know you mean well but I don’t want to be constantly reminded of my duty miss Yuri.” Sighing, you stood up and rubbed your temples in an attempt to relax yourself. Since your mother’s passing the amount of stress that has piled up in your life has you wishing you could escape it all. So when your father pulled you to his quarters a month ago for the first time since her passing to tell you that you were leaving for a week to meet your new soon-to-be husband and soon-to-be-king of your kingdom, things seemed to look up as you were a hopeless romantic yourself. Sure, you’ve never met this person, but surely he couldn’t be that awful of a husband right? Wrong. The moment you were sat down and your father mentioned the words “Prince of Oranada” your world once again went spiraling. Of course, you couldn’t have one good thing! “Look, I know there’s rumors and you may have your own assumptions but know that this is for the good of our kingdom.” Your father began as you bit your tongue for the sake of hearing his argument. “Oranada has been closed off for a decade now since the war, they keep their relations private but I’ve only heard positive things-” “Father you can’t be serious! Sure they’re wealthy and I’m sure they have wonderful combat strategies passed down from generations but have you forgotten that the prince- and pardon my language- is possibly the most spoiled and narcissistic person on this damn planet?!” You stood from your seat, hands slamming on your father’s desk. Normally it was out of place for you to lash out at anyone, especially your father but this was just the cherry on top of all that had been happening to you the past year. You have heard more than your fair share of the rumors from Oranada. The king and queen were known for keeping a neutral stance in politics, the same as your kingdom. Oranada was actually a very well-respected kingdom, they had very close connections and often chose peace. That was all fine to you except the fact that when war broke out on that side of the land, a lockdown was immediately issued and the entire kingdom was closed off.  When said lockdown was placed, surrounding kingdoms were shocked to see that the entire time the king and queen had a son. Prince Yeonjun was a secret kept from the world. Apparently, the prince was only put under light to the public when the king and queen announced that their son was now a part of their kingdom’s decision-making. Immediately the day after he was found guilty of sentencing a man to the death penalty as his first rule. The news spiraled and thus Prince Yeonjun became the tyrant son of the once respected king and queen of Oranada. Oranada decided to close their borders before an official statement could be made. Since then the kingdom has been closed off, leaving the rest of the world to create buzz around it.

“Y/n! I beg your pardon?! I know very well that you know better than to lash out in such an unruly manner.” He spoke through his teeth, attempting to remain composed yet his voice was loud and stern. “Now sit down and you’re going to allow me to finish otherwise I will send you there without any previous knowledge.” As he was the king you had no choice but to sit down, at least not without an annoyed huff. “Apologies father… please continue.” You stared at the wooden floor beneath you, the red oak wood now the most interesting thing in the world to avoid your father’s intense stare. The king sighed as he continued. “As I was saying, you may have your thoughts on the situation, or on the prince, but I promise you that I won’t just let you marry anyone for any reason. Since your mother’s death.. I realize I am getting old. You’re my only child and I need you to realize that you’re old enough now to marry. I only want the best for this kingdom and I know you do too.” You looked up to see that his eyes had softened, voice now more your father’s than the king of your kingdom. “I’ve thought about this for a while, this is our only choice. I’ve actually been able to get into connection with the king and queen themselves, and they’d be absolutely delighted to have you over and introduce you both. So I will be sending you over in about a month and you will be spending the week with your fiancé.” Your eyes widened, not only had your father pulled strings to get into contact with a kingdom that was nearly impossible to get a hold of for the past ten years but the stage was set. You were now engaged and had no voice in the matter. The following month consisted of constant pleading and back and forth with you and the king. You understood it was your duty to find a proper suitor for not just you but your kingdom. Yet, it was so unlike your father to pull the rug from under you like this. Thus here you were, 10 minutes before your departure and you wanted nothing more than to just vomit rather than go on a day-long journey across the land. “Princess, please, I promise things will go fine! After all, once you return, you may have your mind changed.” Yuri said as she kneeled before you while adjusting the arrangements of your travel dress. You could laugh at her comment, you really could. “And you expect me to ignore the fact that I could be marrying a crazy man, a murderer even?” You sighed as you patted the spot next to you for Yuri to sit. Aside from your mother, Yuri had always taken care of you and now that the queen has passed she was the only motherly figure you had left. She was only a few years older but was mature and kind, she was an older sister to you. Running her fingers through your hair in an attempt to relax you, Yuri searched mentally for a proper response. There was no convincing you really, even she knew chances were slim that things would end well.

Suddenly, a knock on your bedroom door shook you from your thinking. “M’lady, are we ready for departure?” Your father’s assistant could be heard. He had been entrusted to accompany you and Yuri on your journey. “Yes! All prepared, we’ll be down in a second!” Yuri chirped as you both immediately stood to your feet. “Just look on the bright side, be positive and things will go your way, M’lady.” She smiled endearingly as you sighed in defeat. “After all, when have I ever been wrong?” You chuckled as she placed her hands on the wooden doors of your bedroom to open them for you. Was it too late to hide under the covers like you did as a child when it stormed? “Hmm, I could think of a few times.” You poked her side jokingly as she rolled her eyes. With uncertainty and fear, you tilted your chin high, and thus your journey to Oranada began.

[corpseidol]

Hi, how are you?

Can I request the school bus graveyard characters headcannons with male older brother type shit?

Like he's generalky just protective over them especially in the phantom work?

HIS DUTY

concept : older brother!reader with sbg group genre : headcanons, fluff content : you’re involved with the phantom world

⠀ › ⠀as the older brother figure, holding the group together and made sure every meeting ended with a reasonable conclusion is very important to you ⠀ › ⠀when you got into the phantom world with them, they all noticed your older brotherly behavior ⠀ › ⠀if taylor was the first one to notice, she would find it comforting how playful you are with her. her favorite part about you was your laugh and smile. ⠀ › ⠀if aiden was the first one to notice, he would find it comforting how protective but open you were. there are times he could speak up about his own opinion to you and you would give out reasonable outcomes (he would still go his own way if he wanted to!) his favorite part about you is your amazing listening. ⠀ › ⠀if ben was the first to notice, he would find your company most comforting. he felt his heart melt when you slightly bonded over aiden explaining he’s getting injured and having to learn how to heal them! his favorite part about you is how you always lead the conversation when talking with him. ⠀ › ⠀if ashlyn was first to notice, she would analyze it at first and after some bonding; she’d find you one of the most reasonable in the group. though sometimes, she finds herself pondering about her own opinions when she hears yours. her favorite part about you is your “good listener” trait ⠀ › ⠀if logan was first to notice, he would be slightly intimidated by you at first but warms up to you because of your confidence. his favorite part about you is that he always found you to be assisting him in the phantom world protectively! ⠀ › ⠀lastly, tyler. tyler would most likely be intimidated by your “big brother” act and found it annoying at first. he would be disagreeing with you a lot but then goes quiet when you give a reasonable response. whenever you protected taylor, he would pull taylor away and give you a dirty look. ⠀ › ⠀at some point, tyler would find comfort in you. you scolding him about his harsh tendencies made him really spiral into his headspace. it all changed when he was having a near-death experience and you quickly ran to him, picking him up like he was a small feather and making sure he wasn’t hurt. ⠀ › ⠀tyler, at the same time, was fascinated with you. he learned to enjoy your company. his favorite part about you is hanging out with you in general. you both bond about different things. ⠀ › ⠀despite ben being somewhat a “healer” in the group, you were there to help him. ⠀ › ⠀whenever you tease the group, taylor joins in. just for her to get teased as well. ⠀ › ⠀when you try bonding with logan, you find yourself always being corrected in topics of astrology. ⠀ › ⠀in the phantom work, you always make sure you know everyones location. observation is a big must for you. ⠀ › ⠀whenever aiden gets into an argument with tyler, ashlyn gets involved, and then you’re there to fix it (ashlyn was the correct one in the argument) ⠀ › ⠀if your hair is long, taylor would be fascinated by it and aiden would have the idea of braiding it like ashlyn’s

[kerubimcrepin]

Wakfu OVA - Book 3, Dragon Mountain [PART 2]

Goultard's canonical gay husband is literally looking like a loaf of bread.

[pointing at the screen and clapping] This used to be Goultard's gay lover. [salutes to the biggest hero of doomed yaoi]

Please... Translate the manga... I believe in you, scanlation team that is currently doing that!

[boos]

LEORICTUS WARCRIME ENABLER ATE PINPIN'S ARM LMAOO

the face of an arm-eater....

Ngl I wish it was 'Salar who did this. Because then I could make unfunny jokes about Joris.

I'm sure that Joris isn't feeling in any way suicidal or despaired about the fact that internally he agreed with Adamai but let Yugo do this because Yugo is based and stuff. Surely he isn't having a fucking mental breakdown.

THEY PUT ME IN A ROOM FULL OF RATS. AND RATS MAKE ME CRAZY.

By which I mean, in a room full of distraught civilians, of course Kerubim's main concern is his brother.

He probably feels so powerless... Joris is gone and he has no idea if he is okay. He can't even console Atcham, because this situation is completely out of their control.

BUT THEN HE COLLECTS HIMSELF, VISIBLY SHAKING HIS HEAD IN SOME SORT OF INTERNAL ARGUMENT.

He knows he's the one who has to give people hope — his family, and the people around him, he can't let them spiral into panic. It's one of the few things he can do, at times like these.

Also, at the sound of Kerubim's voice, Atcham opens his eyes to look at him. Hngfhngnhnnghnfnhnn

He is doing so well in the "not losing his mind because he's the only one in his family who can do that" department... He's always been good at this.

I am now an Ankama hater because they won't show us Joris's despaired face at the realization of their impending doom.

I WILL TAKE CRUMBS THANK YOU.

YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES I'M INSANE.

Goultard not mentioning missing his dead ex husband after seeing him is an intant -5 points to this OVA.

I want to give a shout-out to @bitter-panacea because his Goultard takes are so good. It really gave me a new appreciation for the character, and I can't stop smiling at his behaviours here. A wonderful creature.

tiny

Atcham seems to be the first to hear the return of Yugo and Tristepin.

Joris might not necessarily be the second one to notice, considering we only see his face zoomed in, though.

Still, he looks pretty in these 2 screenshots, so I'm including them.

Need this frame injected intravenously.

[Laughs in Wakfu The Great Wave Manga] [Laughs in Season 4] [Laughs in Waven]

Not Kerubim and Atcham standing a polite "we don't know him" distance from Joris 😭

(Personally, I think they're standing a little far from him because he's technically in the middle of fulfilling his diplomatic duties, and currently standing next to a king...)

Of course the Brotherhood of Tofu's biggest fan has a huge happy grin on his face during this... :D

It's very cute how happy he is. There isn't much not to be happy about: Besides his two friends getting married, the good news is that the Chaos of Ogrest has been stopped, almost nobody had to die (we don't know the fatality rate of the meteorites that got dropped to WoT), AND nobody he cares about died.

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Eye Opener

Prompt: After a nasty argument between your son and Gibbs, he runs away.

Notes: Ends on a good note. Also, I gave the son a name for the sake of writing. It would be a little difficult and confusing if I kept putting S/N, Y/N, etc. Let me know if anyone doesn’t like that. 🙃

You tried his cell again but had no luck as it went straight to voicemail. “Dammit Noah.”

The next number you called was Noah’s best friend. Thankfully, he picked up on the second ring.

“Hey Seth, is Noah with you?”

“Uh, no. I haven’t seen him since school ended today. I asked if he wanted a ride but he was gonna take the bus.”

“Ok, well he calls or comes to your place will you please let me know? Thank you.”

You hung up with him and bit your lip nervously. You didn’t want to call Jethro and get him worried but it was extremely unusual for your son not to come home after school, let alone not answer his phone. He knew the rule to always let one of you know where he was.

You suspected his behavior had something to do with the argument him and Jethro had last night over career choices. Noah wanted to join the Marines but Jethro was adamant on not letting him, telling him that it was too dangerous and not worth throwing away his academic achievements. You knew he was just scared of his son getting hurt, maybe even killed in the line of duty and was trying to protect him but Noah didn’t see it like that. All he saw was his father being a hypocrite and control freak.

Deciding that you couldn’t wait any longer without letting your husband know, you got in your car and drove to the navy yard, getting your visitor pass and taking the elevator to his floor.

You spotted the familiar grey-haired Marine standing beside Bishop as they both stood in front of the plasma tv that showed a picture of a random Naval officer and made your way over, ignoring Tony’s wave.

“Jethro, I need to talk with you please,” you said, making him turn around. The team just stared in silence as you both walked off to the hallway, not sure if their boss was in trouble or not.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, seeing how distressed you were.

“It’s Noah. He never came home from school and he’s not answering his phone. I called Seth to see if he was with him but he says he hasn’t seen him since school. You know he always lets us know if he’s not coming straight home. And after the argument last night-.”

“Alright, alright. It’s gonna be fine, we’ll figure it out,” he comforted, pulling you into his arms and hugging you tight, stopping your spiraling. You took a deep breath, Jethro’s presence calming you down immediately.

“Let’s see if McGee can help,” he said softly, giving your temple a kiss and pulling away. You followed him back into the squad room and smiled lightly at the team.

“McGee, I need a trace on Noah’s phone.”

“On it boss.”

“What’s going on? Everything alright?” Bishop asked with concern.

You explained the situation as McGee’s computer beeped.

“Alright boss, his phone is at the corner of 18th and M street.”

“What’s over there?” you asked. Jethro’s face became hard as he grabbed his jacket and began walking off. “Recruitment Center.”

————

The car screeched to a stop in front of the building and Jethro exited the car aggressively. You got out quickly and tried to stop him before he got to the door but it was too late. Ripping open the door, he stepped in and we saw Noah sitting at a desk with a Marine in uniform across from him.

“Get up, now,” Jethro growled at your son who looked just as angry.

“No. It’s too late. I already signed the papers.”

Jethro went to reach for the papers but Noah grabbed them and stood up, challenging his father. Both you and the recruiter just watched as the two Gibbs’ bored holes into each other, neither one willing to back down.

“You don’t know what you’re getting into Noah. You’re throwing away a perfectly good education,” Gibbs argued.

“I know exactly what I’m getting into dad. You can’t make all the decisions for me, I’m 18 now. I wanna fight for my country-

“And what if you die fighting for your country?! What then?! I’m not letting you go, so that I can lose you!”

“You’re gonna lose me if you don’t let me do this!”

You put your hand on your husband’s shoulder, trying to simmer the fire between the two stubborn men and added your piece.

“Jethro, he’s right. We can’t force him not to do something just because we’re scared. It’s not fair to him.”

He didn’t say anything but continued staring his son down, a battle going on behind his eyes. A second later, he grabbed Noah and pulled him in for a bone crushing hug, arms wrapping around his body and gripping his jacket tight.

Noah hugged him back and your eyes stung with tears threatening to fall.

“Why do you have to grow up so fast,” Jethro whispered, letting him go and putting his hands on Noah’s shoulders. “As much as I don’t want you to do this, I get it. I felt the same way when I was your age. Just promise me you’ll be smart. And you’ll call us every week, come hell or high water.”

Noah nodded, wiping a couple tears away and cleared his throat, trying to be stoic. Now it was your turn to hug him, relieved that he was safe but sad that you only had little time left to spend with your little boy.

Noah gave the recruitment papers to the Marine and you stood by Jethro, hugging his arm and resting your head on his shoulder as they finished up the paperwork. Once everything was done, you all got into the car and began driving home.

“Don’t think that you leaving for boot camp gets you out of being grounded for making your mother and I worried about where you were all day,” Jethro said, looking at your son in the rear view mirror.

“I’m sorry about that but I knew Uncle Tim would pull through,” he replied with a small smirk.

“Well since you have such an allegiance to Uncle Tim, you can babysit the twins this weekend and mow his yard as well.”

The smirk left Noah’s face and appeared on Jethro’s as he looked over at you and gave you a wink.