#I’ve just been in that situation multiple times so like. those are my thoughts

[cr0wc0rpse]

secret: I have this really major crush on this guy but I’m scared cause idk if he feels the same

Oh man, I wish I had any good advice because for me personally, when I’ve had Major crushes and they last a While, I just straight up tell the person. But those situations have been with someone I was already close friends with, and idk your situation, but like. I find it easier to admit a crush if you’re good friends w someone. The worst that can happen is they don’t feel the same, and that usually puts feelings to rest, or helps, and you can move on. Or just allow the feelings to happen now but just let them slide, yknow? Regardless. No need to take action, do what’s comfortable . Sending you good energies about this tho !

[eeunwoo]

this is super on brand for me but today I’m experiencing debilitating frustration @ being misunderstood on the internet like some kind of loser 😩

[nocasdatsgay]

A Lesson in Heartbreak

2 of 3: Words are Painful Weapons

Rating: T | Word Count: 3983 | Pairing: Azris/Reader

Summary: Eris and Azriel made promises they didn’t keep. When you confront them about it, Eris says some things he instantly regrets. Now him and Azriel have to fix what they broke.

Neapolitan Bonds Masterlist| Read on A03| Part 1| Read Below

Warnings: Angst, Eris has a sharp tongue, alcohol, drunk!Eris

A/N: HI so… yeah… I am alive. Sorry this took so long. A second shout out to @daycourtofficial for inspiration with Azriel and his comments when he comes back.

Tagging: @myromanempiree @pit-and-the-pen @lilah-asteria @thisblogisaboutabook @hieragalbatorixdottir @mybestfriendmademe @paleidiot @div94 (if you are tagged by accident or want to be tagged in the future, let me know)

“There. A letter to Tarquin and a letter to her.” Eris sent them with a flick of his wrist. 

Azriel calmed enough to sit while Eris penned the letters. They needed you to come home so they could talk with you in person. Deep down, Eris was thoroughly embarrassed over the whole situation. Not only at himself but for you leaving to another court. He wondered if this was how Tamlin felt all those years ago, when Feyre ran off to the Night Court. Eris suddenly had empathy for him in retrospect. 

He slumped back in his chair and sighed. He needed a stiff drink. But he wanted to be sober if you came home. Azriel sat across from him, arms  crossed against his chest and brows furrowed like he did when he was deep in thought. His eyes were still rimmed in red from earlier. The Shadows were nowhere in sight. 

“What?” Eris looked at his mate. 

Az cut his eyes to Eris, still frowning. “I want you to tell me exactly what you said to her.”

“I’m surprised your shadows didn’t already tell you.” Eris didn’t hold back his eye roll or his sigh. “I don’t fully remember.” 

Everything was a blur from earlier. When he got like that, he never remembered what he said. 

“Well think fucking harder.” Eris could see Azriel’s fingers dig into his sleeves. 

“She came in screaming at me about missing dinner.” It reminded him too much of his mother. The way she would yell at his father when he was a youngling. Eris tried to focus, to put that aside. “I told her the high lord meeting was more important. We were hosting, and.”

After a moment Az said, “And what, Eris”

He cursed under his breath. “I said she would understand that if she had bothered to help. Since she isn’t helping, she doesn't get to complain that we are busy. She knew what she was getting into when we mated.”

Azriel recoiled where he sat. “How could you say that to her?” 

“It’s the truth, Azriel.” Eris brushed back his hair with his hand. “This is what it’s like to be mated to a High Lord. We have responsibilities. Yes, I was wrong for implying she didn’t want to help because she asked and I told her she didn’t have to. I admit that.” 

Shadows came out as Az replied. “And we made promises we didn’t keep.”

“I know I did. It eats me alive that I broke them but what else am I supposed to do? It’s our first time hosting, I’ve only been High Lord for a decade and a half. She’s worked for multiple courts. She knows these things have to be perfect or others will talk.” 

“That doesn’t mean we can’t take a break to have dinner with her.” Az countered. 

Eris glared at him. “Do not act like you are any better. You weren’t there either.”

He winced. “You’re right. I wasn’t.” Then he glared back. “But maybe I would have been there if you let other people do their job instead of making it our problem.”

“Oh you’re going to blame me?” Eris was on his feet. “By the gods. I’m always your scapegoat because it’s easy to blame me than for you to look in a fucking mirror.”

“Eris.” A warning, as shadows built around him. 

“Am I wrong?” Azriel didn’t answer. Eris and his sharp tongue kept going. “You blamed me for centuries when it came to Mor. To this court. To my father. Let’s just add this to it.” He paused. Before he could stop himself he added. “It wouldn’t even be a fucking issue if it was just us.” 

Eris felt the shock through the bond from Az before he shut him out. Even the shadows recoiled from around Az.

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t have to repeat myself. We work well together,” he gestured between them, “because we know what to expect from each other. She wants so much more than either of us are capable of.”

Shadows shrunk back again. “That’s not true.”

“It is!” Then words spewed from his mouth like viper venom. “I wish Elain never told us. I wish I never let you get your fucking hopes up, looking for a third bond in every fucking fae you brought to our bed. But I love you, so I let you do it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Azriel was on his own feet, siphons on his hands flashing. “I always got your consent, you said it was fine. You brought your own-”

Eris’s mouth ran away from him again. He didn’t raise his voice; his tone did the work for him. 

“Maybe I lied. I only took other lovers so you wouldn’t feel guilty. I was just trying to make you happy because I was never enough for you. Even the Mother herself knew. She knew I wasn’t enough for you so she sent us her.” 

Az looked like he’d been struck. Guilt and insecurity Eris had buried for decades laid out on full display. At that moment Eris hoped Azriel hurt just as much as he did. The silence between them was heavy and loud. It was finally Azriel who spoke, his own words sharp and stinging. 

“I never asked to be mated to you. You say this is easier for me and you, but it’s only easy for you. What’s easy is loving her. It’s not my fault you’re too fucked up to know that too.” 

Shadows grew thick around him and he winnowed out of the room. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You showered and changed into a soft seafoam colored nightgown, given to you by Samira. She was sitting by a small side table reading when you came back into the bedroom. She set her book down and got up from her seat. 

“Did you tell him, Tarquin?” You asked. 

In your haste to get away, you didn’t think about the implications of your actions. Namely as High Lord’s mate seeking refuge in another court. You liked Tarquin a lot. He was kind and you were so happy when Samira and him hit it off. But he was still a High Lord of another court. Samira didn’t look you in the eyes from where she had sat on the edge of the bed. 

“I only told him what you told me.”

“That’s fine,” you said quickly. You got onto the bed and crawled up beside her. “I understand. If you hadn’t told him, I would have.”

“That said,” she put her hand over yours. “You’re here as my guest. Any correspondence will come directly to me unless there is a threat to the court.” 

You winced and she gave you a sympathetic look. Your mates were both known for their tempers. Azriel was well known for his impulsive behavior. You prayed to the Mother that neither of them acted irrationally. A hard thing to hope knowing you sealed this room the moment you entered. 

“Did you want some tea or do you want to rest for the night?” 

“Tea. I need to talk if you’re willing to listen.”

“Always,” she smiled. 

You grabbed a light robe and moved into the small sitting room. She waited as Samira had tea brought to the room. She fixed you a cup, and then she sat down and took her own in her hands. 

“So what happened?”

You let out a heavy sigh, trying to figure out where to start. 

You explained the best you could. How they both made a promise to go to dinner and neither showed. You explained how distant they’d been for months. You explained how Eris told you that dinner wasn’t as important as whatever he was working on with the upcoming summit. 

“He said I knew what I was getting into when we mated. As if I’m not managing his court while his nose is stuck in itinerary lists.” You added bitterly. 

She winced. “And Azriel? What did he say about all this?” 

“He said he was sorry. He lost track of time. Conveniently he was silent when I asked why his shadows didn’t remind him.” You stared down at the tea in your hand. You could feel your eyes water again. “He hasn’t- he has always been more physically affectionate than Eris. Out in public, at least. But he hasn’t even-“

You stopped yourself, your face burning. Samira didn’t need to know how Az hadn’t even called you by a specific pet name in weeks. Eris even longer. And how was you supposed to explain they even stopped just casually touching you? It was childish, to be upset about something so silly. Yet thinking about it just made you cry again. 

You wiped your eyes. “It just feels as if  they don’t want me anymore.”

“They're your mates, of course they want you.”

“Mates doesn’t always mean love, Samira. They did just fine without me for what? Two decades? Maybe longer. Maybe they miss it just being the two of them.” 

“Now you’re talking nonsense. Stop it,” she gave you a pointed look. 

“What if it’s the truth?” You were so sick of crying. You sniffled and wiped your eyes. “They know each other so well. What do they need me for?” 

They didn’t.

That was your whole issue. They didn’t need you. Eris and Az could practically communicate without words. They moved around each other seamlessly. Eris knew exactly how Az liked his tea. Az knew to move papers closer to the inside of the desk when Eris was on a rant, his hands moving about as he talked. Eris knew when to make the spare room without even asking Azriel if he needed it. You tried to watch, to listen. Five years and you still weren’t in tune with them. 

Samira shuffled in her seat, drawing your attention back to her. 

“Eris wrote a letter to Tarquin. I got it while you were bathing. It wasn’t much, just him requesting to know if you were here and if so, that you get this.” She held up an envelope with his seal on it. “I wrote back that I would handle communication and you’d be staying the night.” 

She laid the letter on the table in front of you. Your chest ached, begging you to open it immediately. You shoved it down. 

Samira added, “I informed him that if you want to stay longer, I can’t make you leave. Tarquin has already agreed to allow you to stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you,” you whispered and stared back down at your tea again. 

“Sleep on it. You can have breakfast with us and decide what you want to do in the morning.”

You nodded. Sleep sounded nice now that the adrenaline of the evening had crashed. You drained the rest of your tea and bid Samira good night. You left the letter on the table. You’d read it in the morning. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Eris poured himself the stiffest drink he’d had in decades. The shame and embarrassment of everything was still burning in his chest. He downed his drink in one swing and poured another. Both his mates were gone. He walked over to his desk where the correspondence with summer sat. Your friend had written back instead of Tarquin. He downed his second drink. 

To make things less complicated, I will be handling correspondence until this is resolved. Unless there is a threat to the court, I will not involve the high lord. I promise I will give her your letter in the morning. She was distraught when she arrived and I’ve just gotten her calmed. She’s currently bathing and I will get her some tea to help her sleep. 

There was a break in the letter and she added. 

She has yet to tell me what happened fully, but as her friend I am warning you both that you two better make this right. I will try to convince her to return in the morning, but she is a grown female. If she requests to stay, Tarquin has already told me she may. 

Eris tossed the letter back onto the desk. He doubted once you found out Az left too that you’d come home. It’s what he deserved. 

He was a fool to think he could do this- have two mates. To think he could be any better than his father. Three years mated to you and he still couldn’t control himself. Couldn’t toe the line between work and leisure. Fifteen mated to Az and he still spewed venom in his direction the moment he was cornered. And Eris finally got a taste of his own medicine when Azriel spewed it right back. 

With a heavy sigh, Eris pulled out more parchment and ink. There would not be a high lord summit- not with all of this happening. He’d draft the letters and send them in the morning. If he could sleep at all, with no one sharing his bed. He went and made a third drink. He opened his bonds and see if you or Az would respond. 

Still shut out. The urge to down that third drink was strong. He needed to be sober in the morning even if he didn’t want to be. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Azriel flew until his emotions settled. Eris’s foul words rung in his ears still. ‘I wish Elain never told us’ he’d said. ‘Even the mother herself knew I wasn’t enough for you so she sent her.’ 

His eyes watered and it wasn’t from the wind in them. There was an ache in his chest- both bonds were shut out. He and Eris fought plenty, before and after they reconciled and the bond snapped. Somehow this was still the worst. He ignored his own words that spewed like venom in response to what Eris had said. 

Azriel was angry and hurt. He left- if he stayed any longer the whole Forest House may have been burned to the ground. He circled the border between Autumn and Winter. He couldn't go back, not tonight. He landed in a clearing, stretching out his wings before tucking them back in. He didn’t want to go to Valeris. He had one other option. His shadows seemed to agree, as they circled him and he winnowed. 

He landed outside the wards of Rosehall. The fae lights shown through the window. 

She is awake. a shadow whispered. 

He thought about turning back. He didn’t want to disturb his mother, to bother her with his problems. Yet his feet carried him forward, the wards rippling around him. He tucked his wings in tight and walked to the door. He didn‘t have to knock; the wards were designed to let only few in and to notify her when someone arrived. He could hear the rush of footsteps inside and braced himself as the door opened. 

“Azriel?” His mother answered the door, a navy shawl you made for her wrapped tight around her shoulders, sides shaped to accommodate her wings. “What has happened?”

”I had a fight with my mates.” He said quickly. “They’re fine; I just- I couldn’t stay.”

His mother brushed back loose hair to tuck it behind her ear. He realized her hair was half braided. She nodded, and stepped aside to let him in. 

“I’m sorry, I can go.”

”Nonsense, come in. I just made tea.”

His shadows swirled past him, one or two weaving around his mother. They always loved her; probably more than him if he was honest. He stepped through the frame and looked around. He had visited two weeks ago and already things had changed. His heart skipped, looking into the sitting room. Feyre had taken to decorating his mother’s house with portraits and paintings. The one above the fireplace was of him and his mother. It was a new one on the wall to the left that wasn’t there two weeks ago that made him stop in his tracks. It was of his mother, himself, you, and Eris. From your mating ceremony, based on the clothing and how close together you all were. 

“The High Lady spoils me,” his mother said from his right. “Says my house is too empty. You should see the garden painting she had mounted in the hall a few days ago. Come.” 

He felt her hand grab his own. He could only grip back loosely. He didn’t realize how cold his fingers had gotten from flying. If she noticed, she didn’t say. She led him to the kitchen where a kettle sat on the stove. He sat at the small table and watched almost numbly while she gathered cups and poured the tea. 

“Zemër, tell me what happened.” 

Az looked down at the cup as she sat it in front of him. He wrapped his hands around it, letting the warmth ease the stiffness in his hands. If he was home, Eris would do it for him. He pushed that thought away. He took a few sips, relishing in how the warmth flowed through his chest. His mother waited patiently across from him, braiding the rest of her hair for bed. 

“I said some things I shouldn’t have.” His shadows nudged him on the shoulder. “I made a promise and didn’t keep it.” She hummed and tied off her hair. His voice cracked a little when he added. “I don’t know if I can fix it.” 

There was a beat of silence and his mother took a sip of her tea. “Why do you think such a thing?” 

“Because she left!” He snapped. His mother flinched and shadows hissed at him for raising his voice. “I’m sorry. She left and he- we’ve been so busy and she asked for one dinner and neither of us went. Then she left. And Eris said things. So I said things back.”  

He hated that hot tears fell down his cheeks. And that his mother was looking at him with pity. She reached over and took his hand, holding it tightly in her own. 

“Words are painful weapons and you are the best warrior in all prythian.” That made Azriel snort and she smiled softly. “This is a fight. Not a war. You haven’t lost yet. They are your mates. You love them. If you haven’t given up your love for them, what makes you think they have so easily given up their love for you?” 

She had him there. He gave her hand a squeeze, a gesture of thanks. Then a shadow swirled up his arm quickly. 

We must go. He furrowed his brows. He walks to our balcony. We must stop him. We must go. Go. 

“Shit.” Azriel winced at himself. He hated cursing in front of his mother. “Mama, I have to go. Thank you. For the tea.” 

She watched him stand, not letting go of his hand. “Be careful, my love.” 

Despite the tugging of the shadows he gave his mother a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll see you in two weeks. I promise.” 

She nodded and he winnowed away. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

At some point, Eris wasn’t sure when; he grabbed the whole bottle instead of pouring himself a glass. He couldn’t sleep. Not alone, with his thoughts and past memories hovering around the edges of the bed. They we’re waiting in the dark to grip him when he was most vulnerable. So instead he drank. Drank to numb the emptiness like he used to in the days before. 

One minute he was in his chambers and the next he was stumbling up stairs. There were several balconies in the forest house but there was only one nearest to the roof. He built it for Azriel. It had no railings, just a place for him to take off when he went flying. Az swore he didn’t need it; but he still used it. In Eris’s mind, Az would use the balcony when he came back home.

Because he had to come home. You both had to come home. Eris didn’t think he could bear it if you didn’t. It took him a moment when he reached the door to focus enough to grab the handle. Gods, he hadn’t been this drunk since his youth. Pushing into the room, it was bare- save the single old couch, rug, and unlit fireplace. His gaze fixated on the double glass doors that led to the balcony. If he could just get out there, he could wait. 

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Eris nearly fell over, balance upended by Az’s voice behind him. He grabbed Eris by his shirt to pull him steady. Shadows that had been absent swirled in his vision, grazing his hair and neck as if checking him over. It took a moment for the world to stop spinning and his focus fixated on the male before him. 

“You came back,” Eris whispered. 

“Of course I did.” Azriel’s nose crinkled at Eris’ breath. “You're drunk.”

“Can’t sleep.” He felt his eyes water. He reached for Azriel’s shoulder but Az held him in place. “I’m sorry. I'm so sorry.” 

“Look at me,” Az’s hands were cold as they cradled Eris’ face, forcing him to look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry too.”

“Your hands are cold.” He muttered, his own reaching up to cover them. He wasn’t sober enough to focus his magic like he wanted to. 

“They are.” Az gave him a soft smile. “I’ll live.” 

Eris frowned. “Why did you come back?” 

To Azriel’s credit, he didn’t seem shocked at the question. 

“I came back because I love you.” And Azriel meant it. 

“But you said-“

“I said it’s not easy.” He paused for a moment. “It’s not easy but I choose you. I will always choose you. Because I love you.”

There was silence between them for a moment. 

“She’s not coming back.” 

Az grimaced. “Eris, it’s late. She’s safe in Summer and probably sleeping. Like we both should be.”

“But I need her here.” Eris could hardly bear it. He needed you back. He needed to apologize. “Can’t we go get her?” 

“So you want to start a war with Summer?” Az’s face was serious but there was a tilt in his voice. 

“You’re laughing at me.” Eris replied solemnly. 

“You’re drunk. It’s hard not to.” He sighed, his wings slumping and shadows buzzing about them. “Let’s go to bed and sleep this off.” 

Eris was silent but seemed to concede. Az guided him out the room and back to their chambers. He would have winnowed if Eris hadn’t been so inebriated. He really didn’t feel like cleaning up vomit. 

“You’re too good to me,” Eris muttered as they made their way down the hall. 

Az tightened his arm around him. “I could argue the same.”  

More silence passed. “Do you think she’ll come back?” 

Azriel didn’t reply. He could only hope. His shadows whispered as much as he helped Eris undress in their chamber and get him to bed. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In Summer, you tossed and turned. The air was too warm even with the cool magical breeze that floated through the open windows. The bed was too small. Too empty. You finally cast a spell on your blanket and pillows, making them colder. How funny you’d gotten used to Autumn's colder climate.

The spell worked too well. You were suddenly too cold, too cold without Eris and Az’s body heat to keep you warm. Tears fell on your pillow. They were probably sleeping fine without you. Your mind went to the letter you left in the other room. You were too afraid to open it. They probably only wanted you home until after the High Lords’ meeting. Or maybe they never wanted you to come back. You pulled the blanket tight around yourself. Whatever the letter said could wait until morning. 

You sighed and tried to go to sleep. 

Part 3

[drdemonprince]

I’ve only just read your Burnout piece on Substack and it made me think of the anon you answered awhile back about anti depressants and anti anxiety medications.

I’m Autistic and am on anti anxiety medication which basically masked all the warning signs and symptoms of Autistic burnout. Those usual indicators I usually can pick up on which indicate I’m doing too much and not resting enough weren’t present on the medication.

I felt good (although very numb like the anon said) so I kept on taking on more and more and initially thought it was great! I’ve never been able to commit to things or work on multiple projects at once even ones that super interest and excite me because I get overwhelmed and burnt out quickly.

But without the warning signs I kept going and going until I started to feel really weird. Disassociated, not sleeping, upset stomach, drinking a lot. I thought everything was great so it took awhile to piece together that this is maybe what Autistic burnout results in when it’s covered by meds.

I’m now slowly withdrawing from the meds. I figure the authentic anxiety is better than false measures of “success”.

So just a warning to Autistic people I guess, I don’t know if what I’ve experienced is common or just subjective but it’s worth being aware of.

This is pretty much how I feel about psychiatric medication for myself, as well. I want the warning signs. I want to notice my body and brain rebelling. A lot of psychiatric drugs are somewhat effective at making us feel more numb, for a while, which is why they are used as a stopgap when a person's situation is unmanageable. I'm a big believer in the "Affect as Information" Hypothesis: when we feel like shit, that means something about our circumstances simply has got to change. Often that means giving up responsibilities, letting people down, letting things go.

I even feel the same way about weed. I have a lot of friends who use weed daily to manage their overwhelm, and it seems to work great for them, and potentially I should be doing the same thing. But I am terrified of having a massive dependence on a large quantity of weed in order to function, and when I *did* use weed daily, it became a baseline need and made me dissociate even further from myself. I now take the desire to use weed or otherwise get blasted as a signal that something is amiss and that I'm overwhelmed and seeking escape -- that doesn't mean I don't listen to that desire some of the time. I get high and/or drunk on the weekends pretty often. But I don't want to lose touch with my body's warning system. AND I have the immense luxury of being able to change my life circumstances when things get to be too much. If someone doesn't have that freedom, well, sometimes substances are the best thing you can get - be that psychiatric or off market.

[sugrhigh]

BOY NEXT DOOR 9 - ( c.s )

part eight

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- angst, swearing, i think that’s it

a/n: i’m back my little goblins let’s get it!!!! part ten of this series will be the final part, and then i plan on writing an ‘epilogue’ type chapter to wrap it all up. i’m hoping to have them up as quickly as possible, but ive been absolutely slammed so im sorry if it takes me a minute. i love u always and i’ve missed being on here so i hope you enjoy <3

(if you asked to be tagged in the last part and weren’t tagged it’s bcs it wouldn’t let me!! i’m so sorry i tried my hardest)

to be let down, you have to expect something from someone. it’s a mistake you’ve made far too frequently in your years on earth, especially in college, but this time around the grief is debilitating.

you spend the rest of your weekend locked inside your room, attempting to sleep away the heartbreak. somehow dreaming almost makes it worse; for a second you’re able to forget about being completely humiliated, until you wake up in reality once more.

it doesn’t help that chris has been absolutely blowing up your phone since the moment you left. every call and text goes unanswered. it’s impossible to read them, so most of the time you don’t.

hell, you can’t even open your curtains because you’re too scared that he’ll be looking back at you when you do. so you block out the sunlight, ensuring that your room matches your dreary feelings.

you figure he’ll give up on trying to talk to you eventually. you’re not different. he’s not different. and once chris regains that pride of his, he’ll go right back to fucking some other girl he won’t care about half as much.

thoughts like those make you cry even harder, as much as you hate it. but you know the disinterest will wash over him sooner or later, and you resent that inevitable day.

cassidy and ramona check on you pretty much every other hour. it makes you feel even worse that they’re so concerned, but neither of them have ever seen you like this. at least not since freshman year, when you dated an upperclassman for a couple months just for him to dump you over text.

even that heartache was relatively short-lived. but this pain follows you into the week, trailing behind you like a shadow you can’t get rid of. it sits beside you in class, curls up next to you in bed, weighs your shoulders down whenever you walk.

it feels like you’re struggling to stay afloat, to even act like a real human anymore. chris consumes your brain, and so do the ‘what if’s’ of your situation. it makes the week drag on, even though you try to spend most of it asleep.

to make matters worse, his multiple notifications continue with a routine consistency, almost like clockwork. you figured he’d already be over it, but he clearly doesn’t want to make himself easy to forget.

you have to admit that you’re glad his persistence lasted at least this long, even if it’s for selfish reasons. you’re disgusted that the attention satisfies you, but it’s not an unwelcome change considering all you’ve been feeling lately is queasy.

still, you don’t read them, or pick up when he calls. you can’t hear his voice, because you know it’ll absolutely break you.

and then finally, on friday, you see him in the flesh. you’re walking home from your bus stop after the only lecture you managed to get to that day, and there he is, getting out of his car.

your throat seizes up; there’s no way to avoid this. it’s easy to ice someone out over text, but it’s a hell of a lot harder when he’s your neighbor.

before you can snap your head away he’s turning to look in your direction, eyes equally as wide as yours once the recognition washes over him. he looks like shit, and yet he’s still so goddamn beautiful it makes you physically sick.

for a brief moment, everything stops. you just stare at each other.

chris takes in you in, the way you look noticeably drained. he feels that familiar nauseous pang in his stomach flare up, knowing that he stole the spark from your eyes.

the worst part is that you’ll never look at him with that fire again. there’s nothing he can do to bring it back now, no way to reverse the past.

then—before he can decide what to do in the present—you break the spell, cutting through your other neighbor’s lawn to get to your front porch. everything in him wants to run after you, so much so that he has to physically restrain himself.

you hear him calling after you, and something about him shouting your name stirs the tears awake once more. but you make it through the door before they fall, because you can’t show any more vulnerability than you already have.

getting inside doesn’t mean that you make it up the stairs, though. the physical and emotional exhaustion catches up to you, and you collapse around halfway through your blurry climb to your room.

your elbows dig into your kneecaps, hands holding your head while you sob. it seems impossible to catch your breath, or calm down in the slightest, and your cries only grow louder.

normally you’d be careful about the noise, but there’s no one to hide from right now. nobody is home. it’s just you and your thoughts, which, as always, are full of him.

you may be able to push him out of your life, but you have a feeling he’ll be lingering in the corners of your mind forever.

the post-game locker room mood is completely miserable tonight. after that last minute loss and the thirty minute bitch-session they just endured from their coach, it honestly should be.

chris barely even has his skates off before his teammates are all over him, which he expected but still dreaded.

his head’s not in it, and everybody knows.

“what the fuck is wrong with you, man? it’s like you’re not even awake out there.” one of the team’s leading defensemen, luke, yanks him up by his jersey roughly.

for a second he pauses, setting his jaw and puffing his chest out slightly. the accusation, though it’s not completely untrue, pisses him off.

so much so that chris retaliates by shoving him back to his rightful place a foot away. “get the hell off of me, man.”

luke looks like he’s ready to jump into action again, but connor steps in between before anything else can happen. he’s also very visibly angry, a side that doesn’t come out often.

and just because he stopped a physical fight from breaking out doesn’t mean he’s going to stay silent. “he’s right. you’re playing like shit, and we‘re way too far into the season to be blowing it now, especially with selection show right around the corner.”

chris can feel his blood is boiling at this point, knowing that even his roommate is going to support this kind of disrespect towards his own captain. the rest of the team is watching silently, but he can’t find it anywhere in himself to care.

the words have already bubbled up, and he won’t hold them back anymore.

“oh come on, it’s not like anyone else was stepping up! dylan turned the puck over every other play, ben was offside during that odd man rush, and don’t even get me started on you and the high sticking penalty that just lost us that fucking game.” he shoves his pointer finger against connor’s chest for emphasis, trying to make sure his criticism stings as much as possible.

but his friend is quick to swat his hand away, shaking his head once sharply.

“no, you don’t get to turn it on everyone else. you lost it for us during that sorry excuse of a penalty kill. you let that little UMass shit go right by you, which is why he had a wide open shot to score the game winner. you’ve been making dumb mistakes like that for two weeks now, and we all know why.”

that implication is enough to send chris over the edge, because nobody has the right to mention what happened between you and him. knowing about the situation doesn’t mean they should get to speak on it.

he can feel his fingernails digging into his palms, both hands balled into tight fists at his side. the anger coursing through his body makes him shake ever so slightly, almost like he’s humming.

“keep going and i’ll bust your fucking face in.” chris says, voice eerily calm despite the fact that his body is screaming.

but connor doesn’t back down; he stands tall with an unwavering gaze that’s more serious than ever before. “you gotta grow a pair and start being our captain again. you fucked up, and losing someone you’re actually into because of that sucks. most of us have been there. but trying to throw everyone under the bus is bullshit when you’re the one that needs to get it together.”

nothing about his words are intentionally meant to hurt, and chris knows that, but for some reason they do. probably because he doesn’t want to hear the truth, or start coming to terms with the fact that he actually did lose you.

he really doesn’t ever want to accept it.

but his ego won’t let him say that. instead, chris shifts his gaze to observe the rest of the room, at all of his teammates, before focusing on connor once again.

“if you don’t think that i’m your captain anymore then find a new one.” he spits.

the room somehow gets even more quiet; everyone is stunned by the out-of-character reaction. for the most part, chris really is a good leader. they all voted for him to represent the team when it came time, and the group dynamic has been great since then.

but he doesn’t feel like that guy now. he’s not sure who he is anymore. so he throws the rest of his equipment into his bag and yanks it over his shoulder.

“really, chris?” it’s ben this time, who’s clearly dumbfounded by the theatrics.

he doesn’t respond, and he tries not to hesitate too much as he makes his way out of the locker room. everyone lets him pass, which makes it even harder to leave.

it feels so wrong, but his feet keep pushing him forward regardless.

when chris finally makes it home twenty minutes later, the frustration has only festered. he doesn’t like anything he’s doing, and yet it’s spiraling out of his control. by the time he gets to his room, tears of aggravation have made their way down his face.

he wipes them away harshly as he stares out his window at your room, which is still closed off by your curtains. it’s like his heart seizes up just from being this close to you, knowing that you’re in there yet he can’t reach you.

and maybe that’s the problem. chris loves hockey, but at the end of the day he clearly loves you more. and with things the way that they are, his heart is fully wrapped up in you, not the game.

it’s terrifying, and it’s painful. he never thought that there’d be anyone to test his bachelor lifestyle until you came around, and he can’t just go back to normal because he doesn’t know how.

he’s been permanently changed, and it feels like a huge part of his new life is suddenly missing.

you saw the deepest parts of him, parts that he didn’t even know existed, and he saw the same side of you. you challenged him in ways he’d never experienced, and he loved that he always felt like he was evolving when you were together.

now he just feels stagnant, unsure of himself.

the only thing he’s sure of is that he needs you, whether that makes him inconsiderate or not. he can’t keep sleepwalking through life, but he’s not sure what else there is to do.

simply put, he misses you like hell. so he lays back in bed and closes his eyes, trying to remember what it felt like to have you right beside him.

@fawnchives @l9vesick @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @impureals @chrisactualwife @fikefries @riasturns @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @orangeypepsi @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @rubyjanexxx @reallykaz @neatcarrot767 @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts @stunza @beccaluvschris @asturniolos @slutz4sturniolos @mattslolita @alorsxsturn @sturnrc @chrissystur @kellsbells-18 @realqueenofpepsi @snowysosturn @secretfangirly @scarlettbitches @satvisfavetoodles

[alphajocklover]

You have to help me! I've been trying to get free of this... place for a long LONG time. After some time I've been able to gain back some free will, but it's really hard. Right now, as my "physicall" me picked his phone at the gym between reps, I've been able to log on here and I saw what you published about the Retsam Mirror. You have to help me. I've been stuck in it for years. I was a nerd when i first fell by accident on the mirror and i got sucked in. I can't do this anymore. The new me is a honry bastard and he spends his time getting fucked in front of mirrors, a lot and a lot of them. My reflections are exponentials and i feel every single one of them. Oh fuck he just got a notification from HungDomTop11in. Help m................

A Retsam mirror. You found a Retsam mirror. Another Retsam mirror. For those of you who didn’t see my earlier post, a Retsam mirror is an incredibly rare magical artifact that lets a person switch places with their reflection, which essentially traps the person in their reflection and leaves a very suggestable copy in their place. It was weird enough to hear that one guy had encountered one of those that hadn’t already been shattered, but if what you’re telling me is true… then whoever trapped that poor guy has been trapping people in mirrors for much longer than we thought. I can only guess, and hope, that you were one of his earliest victims. I know you said you fell in but… if that was true then your other self wouldn’t have acted any differently than you. Someone had to have pushed you in, and then used your reflections malleable state to change them. I have to say, as horrified as I am by all of this… I’m also kind of impressed. Not with the jerk who's been trapping people, but with you. It takes a lot of willpower to keep your mind intact while in a reflection. Most people lose themselves in it, not having the ability to choose their movements but still feeling everything. Yet what’s even more impressive is the fact you were actually able to take back control for a bit. From what I’ve heard, that's supposed to be impossible. For you to do that… It's truly incredible. I’m just sorry that it might not be able to help save you.  As far as I know, there isn’t a way to get out of a Retsam mirror, at least not on your own. Either your reflection would have to willingly swap back, which seems unlikely, or the guy who pushed you in would have to switch you again, which seems even less likely. I’ve been looking into ways to help get people out of Retsam mirrors since I first heard they were back, but I haven’t found much yet. So I’m afraid that, for the time being, you’re stuck there.

Don’t give up hope though! You’ve managed to do more than anyone else in your position has. Not to mention, the information you’ve given me may be invaluable to figuring out how to save and protect people from Retsam mirrors. I’ve been messing with a spell that might allow me to use my own Retsam mirror to help people stuck in reflections, or at least communicate with them, so there is light at the end of the tunnel.

I know this entire situation is horrible, but the reporter in me has to admit it’s kind of fascinating. It’s incredibly rare you get to talk to someone who's been inside a reflection, so I had no idea you could feel what was happening inside each and every reflection, even if you were reflected in multiple mirrors at once. That must be very overwhelming, especially if your other self is hooking up in front of mirrors. Feeling yourself get fucked by a a potentionally infinite amount of cocks all at once… As hot as that sounds it must be really intense.

Here's just hoping your other self doesn’t take advantage of it too much. 

[otomehoneyybearr]

Kagari Amagase

XXX With The Spoiled Demon

Ch1 | Ch2 | Sweet | Premium | Epilogue | Bonus

Oh my-- .... NSFW MDNI Please

One quiet night, under the softly twinkling stars—

I was at Prince Kagari's hideout, feeling so nervous that it seemed like my heart was about to jump out of my chest.

Kagari: "Princess, what's wrong? You seem restless tonight."

Kagari: "Are you worried about something? Who do I need to get rid of?"

Emma: "Please stop saying such things! There's nothing for you to worry about, so don’t worry."

Emma: "I was just a bit anxious about whether or not the drink I brought would suit your tastes."

Kagari: "That’s unusual. You don’t normally bring alcohol."

Emma: "I happened to win it at a raffle event they were holding in town."

Kagari: "A raffle, huh?"

I poured the drink into a glass and handed it to Prince Kagari, who downed it all at once.

(He’s not exactly a heavy drinker, but he always drinks so boldly.)

Prince Kagari placed the empty glass on the tray, narrowed his eyes with satisfaction, and licked his lips.

Kagari: "It’s good. The alcohol isn’t too strong, so it’s easy to drink."

Emma: "Really? Then I’ll go ahead and—"

Suddenly, my arm was pulled, and before I could react, my lips were sealed by his.

The bitter taste of the alcohol mixed with the heat of Kagari's kiss, causing my heartbeat to quicken.

Kagari: "Tastes good, doesn’t it?"

Emma: "U-uh… I think… I was more focused on the kiss than the alcohol."

Kagari: "Then how about we try again?"

Emma: "No matter how many times you try, it’s not going to work!"

(Prince Kagari just wants to kiss... Honestly, I want to kiss him too, but—)

(For now, I have to hold back… There’s something I need to accomplish first.)

Emma: "I feel like drinking a lot tonight, so please join me."

Kagari: "So I get to see a drunk princess tonight, huh? That should be fun."

(I don’t plan on getting completely wasted, but I do want to get a little tipsy.)

(There’s no way I can seduce him while sober...!)

....

This all started a few hours ago when I got some intel from Prince Kagari’s close aide, Shigure.

Emma: "…Kagari was seen in the entertainment district?"

Shigure: "I didn’t see him myself, but my subordinates were all worked up, saying they saw Kagari entering one of the establishments several times."

Shigure: "But I’m pretty sure it’s all work-related, so when those idiots start asking me stupid questions, I just ignore them."

Emma: "Hehe, I understand. Thank you for letting me know."

Shigure: "Huh, you’re not fazed at all."

Shigure: "Well, you know better than anyone just how much Kagari is into you, so it makes sense."

Shigure: "I might be worrying for nothing, but really, don’t let it get to you. See ya!"

Emma: "..."

(Kagari’s been spotted multiple times in the entertainment district... The entertainment… district...)

...Was I being too passive in situations like this? It's true that I rely on Kagari a lot.

(No, no, there’s no way Kagari would be playing around in the entertainment district.)

(I can say that with certainty, but… I HAVE been worried about how passive I’ve been…)

(… Right, this is just a way to ensure that he continues to love me in the future.)

(I'll show him a more assertive side of me and make him fall even more in love with me...!)

.....

—At least, that's what I had resolved to do. I thought I’d let alcohol loosen my restraint a little, but I wasn’t getting drunk at all.

Kagari: “Princess, did you finish your drink already? Want another?”

Emma: “Yes, please.”

I had Kagari pour me another drink, and, just like him, I downed it all in one go.

While I could feel the pleasant warmth of the alcohol spreading inside me, my mind was still crystal clear.

(This is bad… I’m too tense and nervous… No matter how many drinks I have, I doubt I’ll get drunk.)

Kagari: “Princess, look over here.”

Emma: “Hm…”

I obediently turned my face toward him, and he licked his lips like a cat before giving me a soft, fleeting kiss.

His fingers intertwined with mine, and even though the atmosphere was sweet, my chest felt tight…

(But if things continue like this, nothing will change.)

There’s no time to hesitate over whether I can seduce him while sober.

(I've drunk enough now that whatever I do will probably be seen as ‘drunken behavior.’)

(If that’s the case…)

Emma: "K-Kagari... I wanna kiss you more. Is that... okay?"

I desperately suppressed my embarrassment and tried to sound a bit tipsy as I clung to Kagari and buried my face in his neck.

Kagari: "...Go ahead. Kiss me as much as you want."

He lifted my chin to encourage me, and I immediately pressed my lips to his, trying not to let him notice that I was faking it.

Recalling our previous kisses, I tentatively slid my tongue into his mouth, tangling and sucking, trying to please him.

(Why... isn't he responding at all.)

Emma: “D-Does it not feel good?”

Kagari: “Who knows?”

(Is he not in the mood tonight? Or is my kissing just terrible…?)

Anxiety and frustration swelled inside me, and in my mind, I began to imagine Kagari standing next to a beautiful woman…

Before I realized it, I had pushed him down.

But he wasn’t fazed at all—he just lay there, looking up at me.

Kagari: "That was pretty good effort from you, Princess."

Kagari: "...But you're not drunk at all, are you?"

Emma: "H-How did you figure that out?"

Kagari: "You’re blinking less than usual, and your eyes are too focused."

Kagari: "Did someone put strange ideas in your head?"

Emma: "No... Nothing strange..."

Kagari: "So, you're worried about something?"

Kagari: “It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it, but continuing this won’t feel good for either of us.”

(That’s… true. It would just leave me feeling empty.)

Kagari: “Princess, what’s wrong?”

He gently stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers, and my resolve started to waver.

Emma: "...You won’t laugh or get upset?"

Kagari: “No. It’ll just make me want to spoil the sad princess even more.”

So I confessed to him about the information I got from Shigure and my plan to seduce him.

And as a result——

Emma: “Why am I the one being pinned down…!?”

Kagari: “I told you, I’m spoiling you.”

He nipped at my neck and chest like a beast, sending small waves of pleasure through me repeatedly.

(Tomorrow, I’m sure I’ll be shocked by how many marks there are when I look in the mirror.)

Emma: "Nngh... This isn’t any different from usual."

Kagari: "So what?"

Kagari: “I never once though that you were too passive, Princess”

Kagari: “If anything, I love how I can pamper and spoil you every day—it’s like paradise.”

Kagari: "Now your worries are gone, right?"

(They are... but this doesn’t really explain why I’m in this situation right now...!)

With a dreamy expression, Kagari removed his gloves using his mouth, and without a word, began to dishevel my clothes.

He kneaded my exposed chest, rolling the tips with his tongue before gently biting them.

The constant stimulation made my thoughts start to melt away.

Kagari: “Princess, you look like you're enjoying yourself. You’re already so wet here, it looks like I could slip right in.”

Emma: "That’s because you’re touching me so much... Ah, no, I... nngh...!"

(He’s doing this while I’m in the middle of talking...!)

He spread my legs wide and relentlessly teased my wet area with both his tongue and fingers. Even though his touch was gentle, it was merciless, and all I could do was moan in response.

I tried to unconsciously pull away, but he grabbed my hips and pulled me back.

The lewd, wet sounds filled my ears, and the overwhelming pleasure made me grab Kagari’s hand, my body trembling violently.

(My head... feels fuzzy...)

Kagari: “How cute, Princess. Look, you’ve forgotten to breathe again.”

He wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes with his thumb and then sat me on his lap. As his broad chest rose and fell, I slowly tried to match my breathing with his.

Kagari: “The reason I was in the pleasure district was because there’s been a series of thefts recently, and I was patrolling to help a friend who was in trouble.”

(So that’s what it was... And yet, here I was, overthinking things, getting anxious, and acting weird...)

(I want to crawl into a hole and disappear.)

Kagari: “Sorry. I should’ve told you first.”

Kagari: "But I'm happy to know that you love me enough to go through with this whole seduction plan."

Emma: "...Thank you. I feel... relieved."

Kagari casually took my hand and guided it to his chest.

Kagari: "The only person I want touching me like this is you, Princess."

Kagari: "You're the only one I want to make feel good, and the only one I want to make me feel good."

He guided my hand to his neck and cheek, letting it linger there before kissing my palm.

Kagari: “My body, my life--everything. It’s all yours, so you don’t need to worry.”

His deep green eyes were filled with a thick, honey-like sweetness, conveying far more emotion than his words alone.

Any remaining anxiety vanished, leaving me feeling completely at peace.

●●●●●● Flashback ●●●●●●

Kagari: “I’ve never once thought you were too passive, Princess”

Kagari: "If anything, I love how I can pamper and spoil you every day—it’s like paradise."

●●●●●● Flashback End ●●●●●●

(He says that, but honestly, I’m the one who’s being spoiled here.)

(I want to spoil him even more, and I want to show my feelings for him just as much as he shows his for me.)

Just as I made up my mind—

Emma: "Eek!? W-wait, Kagari...!"

I felt the heat of his arousal press against me through our clothes, causing a undeniable heat build deep within me.

Kagari: “I’ve hit my limit. Don’t you think I’ve been holding back long enough, Princess?”

(Ah...)

Before I knew it, his eyes gleamed like a beast, and his thin grasp on his rationality was clearly slipping.

Emma: “Um... I’d appreciate it if you could be a little... gentle with me.”

Kagari: “Can’t. I don’t know how to hold back.”

(That’s exactly what I thought he’d say. But if he’s this relentless every time, my body won’t be able to handle it...)

(Wait a minute...)

(Maybe the reason I’ve been so passive is because Kagari is always so relentless in his demands...?)

Kagari: “Is that a problem, Princess?”

Like a playful cat, he buried his face in my chest and looked up at me.

Though his gaze was pleading, he subtly pinned both my wrists behind me, making it clear he wasn’t planning on letting me go.

(Kagari is, in a way, a hundred times better at seduction than I am.)

In the end, I was overwhelmed by his insatiable love that night, to the point where my voice and tears were completely spent.

Prev

▼・ᴥ・▼

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

totally forgot what you think of shippy stuff but im gonna ask you anyway !!! do u think sabo n law would be friends ??! more than that ?! cause they have like . . . one arc together plus stampede and they dont seem to hate each other so !! im curious of your thoughts 🎤

Their dynamic for me is kinda just like “this guy is my little brother’s friend” kind of feel and thats really it for me. Like ifykyk what that dynamic is but for me they just,,,, theyre too similar to eachother to be much more than that in my opinion. I feel like Sabo naturally drifts to people who are very different than him, if that makes sense.

I think all the ship art I’ve seen of them is really funny though. Like they have a lot of comedic potential, I love people putting Law in Situations and that man is just doomed to be the StraightMan for the rest of his unintentionally sexy life.

And also like, to get into law’s world you really have to push and shove and claw your way in there, and Sabo is way too busy trying to get tf outta wherever he is to do that for law.

Now that im thinking about it though, i wish we knew how sabo and ace met. Cuz like luffy really had to push and shove and claw his way into Ace’s life, so i wonder if sabo had to do the same. Thats really besides the point though because i wouldnt really compare Sabo being completely alone and friendless when he was 5 and trying to find even a single friend in Ace, to Sabo in his adult years who grew up without a single memory of being alone and being constantly surrounded by people who love him.

Sabo isnt like Luffy is with making friends. Luffy has had multiple points in his life where hes had to really force people into friendship to have someone, anyone, in his life. This naturally is because he hates being alone, mostly stemming from just truly no one being there for him to connect with. He’s been woefully devoid of peers in his life. So for Luffy, having to brute force his way into people’s lives is just par for the course for him, which of course is how he became Law’s friend (self proclaimed)

But Sabo, with how he was raised post amnesia, he was never lonely. So in my opinion he wouldnt really have that drive to force his way into people’s lives like his little brother does. He wouldnt have that insecurity that Luffy has/had to make him like that.

And Law….. he’s had everyone he’s ever loved ripped away from him time and time again. To say being Law’s friend is extremely fucking hard is an understatement to say the extreme least. Sabo is also not the kind of guy to do things for people. Like for example Bartolomeo drowning in the colosseum as sabo destroyed the arena and just telling him “youre a man, do it yourself.” And then two seconds later to his woman friend he’s like “since when can you not take care of things yourself?” Like he’s very You Gotta Meet Him Halfway If Youre Gonna Meet Him At All. (‘Woman friend’ being koala, of course, but i just wanna emphasize those two points because truly it doesnt matter what your gender is or even if youre a close friend, that ‘do it yourself’ is rated E for Everybody)

Law needs to be broken in with a semi truck to be his friend, not even mentioning trying to be his lover and i really dont think sabo would put in the effort to do either of those things. I honestly think law shouldn’t be in any romantic relationship for a very long time because of how unbelievably traumatized and broken and ruined he is especially with certain recent events. So i really have a hard time shipping him with anyone even though theres lots of characters ripe for the picking.

TDLR: in my eyes, neither of them would put in the effort of trying to be anything with eachother and are kinda just on good terms because of a mutual friend.

By Every Means Necessary though, please keep shipping them and drawing ship art of them, i feel like the stuff i see with them is so creative and i encourage you to keep drawing those tragic men making out.

If you have any other thoughts or any ship/friendship propaganda for me though lmk please. This is kinda one of those ships where i really dont much understand it beyond The Bit. I’m just not the kind of person to really like ships without seeing a direct and canon dynamic between them I can pull from. Like even if its a negative dynamic i can still get into it but like these two truly have Nothing. So by all means, help me understand.

Thank you for coming my ted talk and thank you for the question, i really had to think hard about this and it was a lot of fun coming to the conclusion i came to.

[chukys-mouthguard]

sharpest tool

we were going right, then you took a left

featuring -> trevor zegras x female reader

genre -> angst

word count -> 1.1k

note -> i truly struggled writing this one, and I’m not entirely happy with how it turned out so i apologize if it is not my best. But i hope you enjoy? I am trying to get my writing back on track since I’ve been MIA 🤞🏼

-> short n’ sweet masterlist

Things had started in such an atypical way, yet somehow Trevor was still hanging around. You thought for sure that a chance encounter which led to a hook up would’ve ended there, but you were pleasantly surprised.

When Trevor invited you to a teammate's birthday party, you weren’t sure if you should accept at first. Nervous for what they might say or ask, you and Trevor not having put a label on things. Though he always said that with you, things felt different.

That birthday party turned into multiple parties, weekly date nights, spending the night at his place or him at yours. And while you still hadn’t put a label on things, you were confident in saying that Trevor was yours and you were his.

With Trevor being a professional athlete he’d often found himself navigating the pool of those who were interested in him for his status, and only ever finding a handful of girls who liked him for who he was away from hockey. But he’d thought he’d finally found his person in you.

You were everything Trevor could ever ask for. Supportive, selfless, so caring; it was easy for him to see that you weren’t just hanging around for his money or fame. He’d not experienced someone like you that could put him in his place while also putting up with his shit. He wondered how he’d gotten so lucky. A random night out led to you coming back to his place, and he couldn’t let you go from that night on.

As he’d begun navigating the new found feelings, he was now in a position of questioning from his friends and teammates. Were you his girlfriend? What was his status? And it made him unsure as this wasn’t a situation he’d yet been in during his young career. While he enjoyed what things were, he was afraid of labels. Thinking that by taking the step, it would change everything. But he never shared these fears, simply ignoring them.

However, ignoring those fears only made him begin to distance himself. No longer inviting you to parties, weekly date nights were kept to nights in. And while you assumed it was due to his schedule, you never thought to ask. Not wanting to ruffle any feathers or cause an argument over whether or not you were his girlfriend, despite it seeming obvious to you that you were.

Though now that Trevor was acting differently, you weren’t entirely sure.

And soon enough, the date nights ceased. And it had been over a week since you’d even gotten a simple text from Trevor. No explanation, nothing. And you wished you would’ve spoken up, raised the question when you had the chance to possibly prevent being left to pick up the pieces of the jumbled puzzle that you two were.

The idea of reaching out crossed your mind, but you didn’t want to seem attached or come across any type of way. Especially if he’d never seen your relationship as anything more than casual. But to sit around and question what the explanation was, also wasn’t fair to you.

You opted for texting his teammate, hoping that maybe he’d at least spoken to them about his decision making. Thankful that he’d introduced you to them multiple times that you knew any of them well enough to send such a random text.

But the response was nothing more than confusing. They’d said they had no clue what was going on either. Simply that Trevor had stopped mentioning you, as well as stopped inviting you to things. All of his teammates assumed you’d broken up or he was keeping things more private. Despite them all encouraging him not to lose you as they’d all thought you were perfect for him. However, the conversation only left you with more questions than answers, questioning why Trevor had taken such a harsh turn when things seemed to be going so right.

Figuring it was a stress for another day, you opted to scroll Instagram, let your brain wander and think about anything else for a bit. Watching reels of cooking, dogs doing funny things, liking the occasional post of a friend that caught your eye on your feed. Then opting to aimlessly click through stories, until you’d landed on one that you swore made your whole body seize up in shock. The range of emotions you’d felt in the ten seconds the photo was on your screen seemed almost impossible for one person to feel so quickly, yet you’d done it.

The image of Trevor, though his face not shown, you could spot his hair and tattoos anywhere. Arms wrapped around a girl you’d recognized as an ex of his, as they were waist deep in a pool at what you guessed was her house because it didn’t look familiar. You felt tears welling in your eyes but you fought it, not wanting to waste any on him after he’d strung you along rather than being man enough to end things if he wasn’t interested.

Though you knew it was best to leave it be, not respond or try to get the last word, you couldn’t help yourself. Feeling it was only right you got to say something since he’d shut you out for the last several weeks with no explanation.

Typing out a quick response to the post, you hit send. Immediately exiting the app and heading to take a shower.

Trevor finished off his beer before exiting the pool to search for his phone, finding it on a chair as he checked his notifications. Smiling at a group chat with the boys before heading over to his Instagram. The arms of his ex snaked around his waist as she kissed his back, urging him to get off his phone and head inside with her. Trevor’s focus on the message you’d sent him.

Guess I’m an idiot for thinking we were anything more than casual.

Trevor’s smile had faded as he saw the message, his heart immediately aching as he felt awful for that photo. He felt awful that he’d simply chosen to never talk to you about how he was feeling, simply distancing himself and ignoring it all. As if that was a solution. Now he’d been seen at his ex's house, clearly cozied up with her and he knew that broke your heart to see. It was dumb, and to say he didn’t regret it now instantly would be a lie.

His guilt was creeping in as he questioned whether or not he should respond. Should he call you? You’d probably blocked him by now. He was mentally cursing himself for not being man enough to talk about his feelings, letting the best thing to have ever come into his life go because of his stupidity and fears.

Grabbing his things he knew he had to fix this, or at least try. Hurrying to his car as he checked the time, knowing it was late but hoping somehow you’d be awake. Shooting a quick text, a simple hey, impatiently waiting as he started his car. His heart racing as he watched the word delivered soon change to read.

[lilwoofs]

I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I think what saddens me the most is that shadow doesn’t really seem to like adventuring. Sonic and shadow are similar in that they both go fast and go on a lot of the same adventures, and even though adventures just like, happen to sonic he kinda starts them, or at least seems to enjoy them after all “what you see is what you get, just a guy who loves adventure”. He didn’t choose to have chaos unleashed, turn into a werewolf or have eggman make a war, and I’m sure there’s moments (like metal virus and frontiers) where he’d rather that all not have happened, but overall he seems to have fun doing all of this stuff, it’s his hobby, even in the twitter takeovers most of the time when a question about what they is asked he basically just says running and adventuring.

Meanwhile shadow just kinda has that stuff happen to him, his memories are altered and someone wants him to destroy the world, he has amnesia (also metal sonic is mad and making it everyone’s problem), he has amnesia (also someone’s trying to make him destroy the world again), and whatever was going on in 06. He never seemed to relish in the adventure like sonic did, he only really seemed to fight when he had too. (Okay in some games he seemed like he wanted to kill sonic??? (og generations) or just fight sonic for little reason (not to mention what happened to infinite) but it feels like they’re kinda fixing that and it’s pretty out of character for him). For sonic danger is a challenge, it’s fun. For shadow it’s just something happening to him, yeah he might get a little smug about it, but “if the world chooses to become my enemy I will fight like I always have” shadow wouldn’t be fighting if he didn’t have someone trying to make him destroy the world every two seconds-

It would also make sense shadow doesn’t seem to enjoy danger like sonic does, he knows what its likes being attacked and it going wrong (Maria’s death). And to contrast sonic in the twitter takeovers whenever he’s asked about hobbies he says he wants to start a cat orphanage, or that he reads books and plays chess, volunteers at soup kitchens, taking care of his bike, also won’t shut up about flowers. All pretty low stakes things! (He even mentions multiple times in the newest twitter takeovers that he doesn’t fight for fun, only when needed. Now that could just be him not wanting to admit he’s having fun with sonic, because there is a lot of moments we’re he fights with sonic for no reason other then fun, but there’s still probably some truth in there. Who knows maybe we just think that because we always see it from Sonic’s side, and since sonic likes it we assume shadow does too ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) And talking to Maria in sh generations it makes so much sense! She seems frightened at the concept of shadow attacking black doom, she’s not scared to talk back to him when he’s being rude to shadow, but she seems surprised that it’s happening, surprised that shadow is so “bold and confident” when shadow fights. Yeah she told him to protect everyone on earth but I don’t think she had shadow stopping earth ending situations in mind. They play chess and go to school, when Maria talks of going back to earth she mentions having food and meeting her family. That was their plan. She didn’t think shadow would have to stop gods and war, she thought he was going to met friends and eat good food! And just help out in small ways when he can.

Going back to Maria’s death we know shadow was powerful at that time, not as much as he is now, but he was frozen for those 50 years (no time to train) which means he was just as strong then as he was in sonic adventure 2 (makes sense he’s the ultimate lifeform). If shadow was back there he would’ve fought the G.U.N agents, but taking in the Maria dialog (“bold and  confident”) and how their life was on the ark he wasn’t used to fighting. If nothing happened to shadow he probably wouldn’t be fighting.

TLDR: where’s my sonic game that’s about shadow owning a cat orphanage and reading books sega?

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Good evening (or morning, afternoon, wherever u r) to you, Miss Raven, *tips hat* How do you do?

First of all, I was reading through the your canon Malleus romance analysis and i’ve just gotta say I love how you give a realistic approach to these characters and their world! 🙌🏻

But that also got me thinking, how would Leona prioritize his romantic vs royal life?

As second born prince, I wanna say Leona actually has more breathing room to pick whoever he wants as a partner (if the royal family doesn’t arrange a marriage before he gets that chance), plus, the Sunset Savanna’s next heir apparent is already born, so really there’s nothing worry about succession unless something happens to Cheka and or Falena. But at the same time Leona is still ridiculed by his people, so will that have any affect on who he wants to be with if he happens to choose someone other than another beast(wo)man or someone in a class lower than a noble?

And even tho he isn’t first in line for the throne, Leona is still royalty. I think he could pick a partner who is more private and less sociable with their life, but I also think they still might need to be prepared for the royal life, lack of privacy, speaking with the public, and other royal duties (even if Leona himself won’t do them).

TL;DR Do you think Leona’s status as second prince actually gives him a benefit for who he can pick as a romantic partner and how would the people’s view on him affect this, and what do you think would expected of Leona’s partner in the royal life even tho he’s not first in line for the throne?

What’s your take on this?

Related posts: Malleus / Kalim

Greetings 🎵 Life’s been a bit stressful lately, but I’m getting by! Busy planning something big for the blog too, so excited for that.

I think you must be talking about that post where I discussed what the expectations would probably be for Malleus’s future spouse? Thank you for the praise though! While anyone can ship themselves or their OC with Malleus in the latter, there’s certain in-universe logic that must be followed in the former. It feels very different to be a character in that world versus an outsider looking in. Being able to switch and see from those perspectives is important, I feel.

My thoughts on this topic aren't as concrete as what I laid out for my Malleus post, mostly because we don't know as much about Sunset Savanna's politics and since Leona isn't burdened by the same expectations as the crown prince or first in line to the throne. I feel like this post will be a lot of speculation, so just be cognizant of that.

As Leona is right now, I don't think he has much of an interest or an obligation to find someone. His focus seems to be on tending to himself and his own goals to help those around him, be it his juniors (Epel, Jack, Ruggie, etc.) or his country (due to his internship at a energy and mining lab). I definitely feel like that's where his priorities lie, and anyone he might take on as a life partner would also have to have a passion and dedication for this kind of service, whether they also engage in it or they at least support Leona's endeavors.

I also think that Leona would personally want an intelligent partner that's able to hold their own in a discussion, but only to a certain extent. Like, they have to be able to coherently express their own thoughts but I don't think he wants to deal with someone so stubborn that they constantly put up a fight with him if they happen to disagree. Leona has demonstrated multiple times that he finds it a hassle when people don't listen to him, so he tries to put himself in situations where he doesn't have to face that in the first place. For example, Leona states that he dislikes Silver and Rook, as they constantly act on their own and seem to disregard anything that others around them say. Additionally, he lacks a vice dorm leader because he made the conscious decision to not pick one, as he doesn't want someone challenging his decisions. Leona also strategically caves to his sister-in-law's demands to avoid wasting time and energy in an argument, since he knows that beastwomen tend to be strong-willed. His partner would have to know when to step back and give him space or when is not a good time to keep pressing a point. That means there'd be a certain element of emotional intelligence involved too, not just general wisdom or knowledge.

In these circumstances, I don't think there would be as much of an importance placed on the social status of Leona's spouse since he's like... what? Fourth in line to rule? His father is still alive, Falena/Farena is still fine, and Cheka's there too. The chances of Leona actually having to step up to that plate are low. There's no pressing need for Leona to find a partner or to produce an heir of his own. I don't recall there being lore about his older brother and sister-in-law having an arranged marriage or what social class his sister-in-law is from, so... there's not a lot to go off of there. I think, at the very least, we can assume there's not as much pressure for Leona to be in an arranged marriage since he isn't the crown prince. I don't get the sense that Sunset Savanna is as conservative with its social expectations as Briar Valley is, so it's doubtful whether or not the public would care about a royal marrying a commoner or a beastman marrying a non-beastman. To my latter point, there doesn't seem to be as strong of a racial divide between beastmen and humans (unlike fae and humans), so I don't think this would pose a major concern. But hey, maybe they do care a lot about status since Leona's flashback keeps harping on the importance of birth order--but that ultimately has no baring on the commoner versus royal thing. Maybe this is me being too much of an idealist, but I do think it would be possible for Leona's partner to come in and prove themselves, since their reputation (unlike Leona's) isn't already marred by being second in line to the throne and having a golden child to be compared to. If anything, I feel like the people would fear for the safety of Leona's spouse rather than what their "marrying outside of the norm" means for the country. Since there's a negative public view of Leona, I feel that this would translate into worry for the spouse rather than assuming they are "just as bad" as Leona. They're an outsider with a completely separate background from Leona's, and that I doubt that most people have the magic to rival his strength. Where would their fear of the spouse be reasonably coming from? I think the more likely situation would be the public feeling sympathy for the spouse (like, what if Leona's magic harms them) and wondering what they must see in the second-born prince. There might be a lot of gossip or concerns swirling around their courtship, little judgmental whispers and passing glances that are hard to avoid, maybe some hissed warnings to be careful around Leona, etc. The spouse should be careful how they react to public opinion though, as lashing out could make them be perceived as ill-tempered and crude, a poor reflection of both their own attitude as well as confirming preconceived notions of Leona. They should be equipped to handle socially complicated situations with grace and tact. When it comes to Leona, they should also be ready to provide him with some emotional support—not as a therapist he trauma dumps to or anything like that, but as a trusted and nonjudgmental confidant.

I think the spouse would receive the harshest scrutiny should they step into a more public-facing role… like if they started to enact or push for policies that go against the country’s reverence for nature and living in harmony with it. They would most certainly get pushback for it, maybe earn ire for not being “attuned” with its people. Leona’s spouse would, at the bare minimum, be expected to represent the values of Sunset Savanna and to engage in its ceremonies and traditions. For example, Leona—the second prince—is meant to train the winners of the Bead Brawl. Whatever royal duties are set for the spouses of the royal family… well, they should be prepared to fulfill them.

On the subject of privacy and sociability, it might actually be a drawback if Leona’s spouse were private and not sociable. Not being seen or interacting in public very often means people are left to their own devices and assumptions—and if Leona is the first person they associate with his spouse, it could lead to the public forming negative thoughts. "Oh, they're withdrawn because they don't care about us. Oh, they must be moody and hard to get along with." There’s a lot of earning trust that has to be done, especially if Leona intends to enact social reform, so I think it would make for better optics if his spouse really put themselves out there and was proactive in the community. Instead of framing themselves as a shut-away or some rando that married into the royal family, they have to be willing to step outside of their comfort zone and act like a leader if push comes to shove, show how outgoing and determined they can be.

Last thought I have on this matter I guess is related to how Leona’s loved ones would react. I don’t think the named characters would care about the details all too much?? Farena appears to respect his brother and treats him warmly, even when Leona brushes him off. He’d want Leona to be happy and at his best mentally and emotionally when and if he decides to help govern the country. And Cheka, well… maybe he’s a little too young to fully understand what’s going on, but I think he’d want his uncle to be happy too. I’d say even Kifaji would be on board with it, though perhaps not as openly as Farena or Cheka. He’s a stern older man, so I can absolutely see him scolding Leona and nagging him about his choice of partner—but in the way that a concerned grandparent would, you know? Not in an outright malicious way like the Briar Valley senators might. Unlike them, Kifaji can see the good in his prince and wants the best for him, even if he comes off as too overbearing at times. Kifaji doesn't unnecessarily act vitriolic or belittling to Leona, he states truths (that Leona acts improperly at times) and earnestly expresses his wish that Leona recognizes his own potential. He'll probably pull up to interrogate the spouse (because he cares that Leona marries someone who loves and values him), but ultimately give his blessings along with a plea for them to take good care of his second prince.

[local-hellhound-steals-spaghetti]

The wildest thing about the whole Moo Deng situation to me is (and of course I make this about cetaceans) the insistence that everything here is fine, there’s no mishandling, Moo Deng is a spoiled princess, how dare you accuse her knowledgeable zookeepers of being anything less than perfect… by the same people who decry any and all cetacean captivity as horrific abuse.

Moo Deng getting her bum smacked is cute but an actually cute video of a dolphin playing in an aquarium is abusive. A random zoo guest is to be trusted when they say Moo Deng’s zoo is great (and to be clear I don’t know enough about this zoo to make a judgement call, all zoos have issues), but someone who’s actually worked at SeaWorld is either a liar or delusional (actual comment I received) when they say that no actually, their animals are not abused.

Yep all of this!

Honestly there seems to be a whole range of people on the defensive- from people who just like the zoo to people who made Moo Deng meme their whole personality.

I have to say it’s been really really weird actively criticising a zoo when I’m usually defending them.

But at this point my thesis of the original post is on full display. That groupthink plays a role in perception of animal welfare and people will pick the side that makes them feel the most comfortable.

For whatever reason people want to believe that a baby Pygmy hippo needs to get regularly grabbed, poked, chased and harassed because that’s what this one guy does and he has experience doing it so it’s fine?

But some of those same people saw a documentary once and decided that they know more than people with hundreds of years of combined experience with orca husbandry and care.

The people that are accepting of a challenge to that perception are willing to accept some discomfort because they’re more concerned about welfare.

When that reddit post came out (with experience including: goes to the zoo, maybe knows some history of the keeper?) it was immediately snatched up and ran with.

Since then I’ve seen the same comment of “net zero information” multiple times, the same accusations of racism and the same lines of “he’s so experienced he knows what he’s doing”, “the mum’s fine with it” and “it’s desensitisation” (that one hurts to read every time ngl

It’s like they just are copy and pasting someone else’s thoughts. Just parroting it verbatim without any sort of thought.

Not a single question asked about how this person knows this information, no demanding of qualifications or where they work… just happy acceptance of information that allows them to continue to enjoy their meme.

it’s wild to see the notes popping up in my notifications of “but he’s so experienced! He has so much training!” About this one zoo keeper that has multiple videos of him deliberately sneaking up on his animals, hitting them and blasting them with a hose.

Like damn I wish people would go to bat so hard for zookeepers all the time. Except maybe the ones that don’t harass their animals for clout?

Of course it’s kind of hilarious watching this unfold as a former dolphin trainer that regularly was called an abuser for… let’s see… training dolphins with positive reinforcement in the ocean.

Is it the intelligence thing? Do people think Pygmy hippos are too dumb to need enrichment and decent habitats? Or that because this guy raised hippos before he is completely incapable of making a mistake or using outdated practises?

I had someone genuinely saying that Pygmy hippos “just behave differently” to other animals. As if a fight or flight response behaviour looks totally different in this specific species of animal.

As if they are not ungulates who are herbivores and do absolutely get predated upon and are not immune to the stress response or somehow is incapable of feeling a smack that they very clearly startle from.

Idk the mental gymnastics people are doing to justify shitty animal husbandry must be exhausting.

[banishedchildofeve]

˚｡⋆ Patron Saints that help guide us through the year

₊⋆·˚ ⁀➴ ༉‧₊˚. ₊ ⊹ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✧˚ .

- St. Dymphna ; the Patron Saint of mental illness.

while it can hard for us to admit that we are struggling mentally on a serious level, we have all had moments of feeling very low. i personally have struggled, and so struggle with, anxiety, depression, anger issues etc. these have been serious issues for me and i learnt a prayer i will link - here - that has helped me know St. Dymphna. ˚࿐

- St. Vitus ; the Patron Saint of oversleeping.

we have all overslept once, if not maybe multiple times a week or month. for some, oversleeping is a rare misfortune, but for others, including me, oversleeping is a regular problem and has affected my life in a various of negative ways. here is a - link - to a prayer that i found. ˚࿐

- St. Phillip Neri ; the Patron Saint of joy (and friendship).

i dunno about all of you guys, but i have lost more friends then i have gained since leaving high school. this isn’t a bad thing as a lot of the people i spent time with weren’t very nice, but like most people, i am always wishing for more friends. friendship is so important, and i read up about St. Phillip Neri and learnt so much. he is also the Saint of Joy! here is a - prayer - ˚࿐

- St. Padre Pio ; the Patron Saint of stress relief (and adolescents).

we all get stressed, duh. stress can take a toll on so many aspects of our lives, including our health on a long-term scale. trying to reduce stress is ironically, quite a stressful process. i have found peace in a plenty of Bible verses that talk about being calm and trusting God. i have also found peace in Padre Pio, a Saint who i knew about long before God called me to Catholicism. i have him on a bracelet, haha. here is a - prayer - by St. Padre Pio i have found, and also a - prayer - TO Padre Pio. ˚࿐

- St. Expeditus ; the Patron Saint of procrastination.

if someone says they don’t procrastinate, i’m 99.9% sure they’re lying. you do it, i do it, we know it’s bad, but it can be so hard to fight sometimes. good thing we have St. Expeditus! here is a - prayer - that we should all recite daily. i wish you the best! ˚࿐

- St. Anthony ; the Patron Saint of lost things.

my keys, my glasses, my card, sometimes even whole outfits or pairs of shoes… how many times a week, even a day, do we lose things we own? i’m sure we all know about St. Anthony, most atheists know about him, but i often find myself forgetting that he is there for us. a - prayer - to the finder of those annoying lost items.

- St. Jude ; the Patron Saint of lost causes (and “impossible” circumstances).

we have all thought a situation we’ve been in is completely and totally helpless. we’re stuck, there’s no way out and this feeling might just be forever. despite how hard these moments are, however long or short they may last, they do always end. we end up feeling better. however, that’s not to say that that feeling of helplessness isn’t so hard to bare. i’ve been there, i understand. i only recently learnt about St. Jude, (prior to this, the only ‘jude’ i knew of was the Beatles song… forgive me…). thankfully, St. Jude represents hope for the hopeless and miracles for all of us facing those helpless circumstances. - prayers

₊⋆·˚ ⁀➴ ༉‧₊˚. ₊ ⊹ 𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✧˚ .

i hope this was somehow useful. God bless you. <3

౨ৎ

i also just make up my own prayers to Saints when needed. sometimes we don’t resonate with a prayer, and that’s okay. i often add to prayers or find myself reciting my own. i linked prayers for suggestions, not as some sort of strict guideline :)

౨ৎ

[themotherofhorses]

Hi author first of wanted to say I love your work !

I'm not sure if you take requests so if you don't feel free to delete this 💛

Modern spy Aemond x naive reader [ Aemond meets her when he's on a mission and becomes obsessed with her how can someone be so sweet and innocent !? He just has to have her also baby trapping and smut if you're comfortable writing it ]

follow me now, and you will not regret (leaving the life you led before we met)

pairing: modern spy!aemond targaryen x naive!reader

warnings: explicit language. stalking. very much nsfw smut. once again, aemond is an obsessive and pussywhipped little bitch with zero thoughts within his pretty knocker. manipulation. innocence kink. breeding kink/baby trapping at the end.

notes: hi, yes, this is me coursing through uncharted and absolutely fucking rough waters in some attempt to spice up my usual smut writing style

(aka me practicing for the next chapter of my modern series)

masterlist

A career life built solely around espionage (or a sort of black shadow warfare mixed with cold combat) came dirty, bloody, and uncertain.

Or, at least, that was what Aemond “The One-Eyed White Death” Targaryen would tell himself on the daily, in some attempt at justifying the ends to the means. Really, this entire situation could have been a lot worse, he thought- after all, the lives of countless innocent civilians could have been caught within his crosshairs. He hated when that happened; it was always so messy, and came with heavy and boring paperwork.

However, that was not the case this time, thankfully.

It was only one innocent civilian in his hands, and she was still safe and sound.

Aemond had never meant to stick around the city for so long, having other missions queued up after this one, but fuck…you were perfect. Godsent, the prettiest and most delicious slice of heaven above, and he did not consider himself a godly man, nowhere near in the slightest. The gods loathed his type, he knew, and never hesitated in casting them all down to the pits of hell.

But you…

He had met you during the mission, while stuck undercover at some random little café on the corner street. The boss sent him to stake out some old-money and big-named crime mobster that was allegedly dealing weapons and various drugs under the noses of local law enforcement, a suspect on their “Most Wanted” board. And you- well, you were tucked away in a small booth, hunched over two thick college textbooks while multiple paper assignments laid strewed across the table top, so unaware of his presence sitting tables away on the other side of the room.

Gods, you were absolutely gorgeous, he thought. So fucking pretty, with those eyelashes and charm bracelet and focused look on your face. It made him forget all about his original mission. Fuck that, he has a new one now. And there was the cutest pout on your pink and glossy lips that made his cock harden, despite not having the faintest clue on what your name could be.

(That itself was no concern of his, he could find it out later in the evening. And he eventually did.)

You were there at the café the following day, and the day after that. Always with your head in those damn school books, his pretty and dutiful schoolgirl. The sight made him chuckle, and smile, and fill with the strongest urge to ruin you completely with his mouth, and fingers, and cock. On the fifth day, he finally decided to step up to your table, interrupting your usual study schedule with a shy smile and your favorite drink in hand, as well as a chocolate chip cookie.

“I- uh, I hope you don’t mind, miss,” he said, feigning bashfulness, “but I’ve seen you around everyday for this past week and thought, maybe, you wouldn’t mind being friends? I’m new in town, actually…and- well, I don’t know a lot of people around here…” he added, watching your pretty eyes widen.

And, fuck, your lips were glossy again, and he stood there (like a complete idiot) wondering what flavor they could possibly taste like.

Cherries?

Strawberries? Blueberries?

Maybe mimosa or peppermint patties?

“Oh, well, of course! I don’t mind whatsoever,” you replied cheerfully, rousing butterflies in Aemond’s stomach. “I’d be happy to be your friend,” and you patted at the spot next to yours, slugging away your tote bag and books so that he could sit down, and you could introduce yourself.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Aemond became your friend, first. The easiest way to manipulate your unsuspecting victims? Through trust and friendships, per the teachings of his old childhood mentors back at the academy. Throughout the next month, he bought you hot chocolate and matcha tea lattes, joined you in quick lunch dates, insisted on driving you to your college classes, and went with you to the little bookstores scattered across the city. It was fun…and torturous- utter torment and near physical agony- because all he wanted to do was fuck your pretty pussy until you could no longer remember your name and your cunt was to the shape of his own cock.

He would sit beside you in the café booth, listening as you drone on and on about your favorite, most passionate subjects, all while trying to desperately hide the boner in his jeans and rid his mind of such dirty thoughts and fantasies. There was no use, though. Aemond was fucked, too addicted and obsessed.

He wanted you, now and forever.

But that was not the worst part. The worst part was that you had not the smallest clue of what you were doing to him. You were just his sweet companion, his dear friend, too innocent and naïve to both the world and the waking beast deep within him.

He often followed you back home, to that tiny apartment near the college. Aemond swore it was because he wanted to make sure you were safe and protected from any of his enemies, anyone daring to steal you away from him, but he knew it was more due to the chances of seeing you undress and shower and decide which nightie you would wear to bed. And, sometimes, he got treated to his sweet girl trying to touch herself. It was so cute, so endearing, to watch you slip a hand between your thighs only to pause because you had no idea of what to do, and how to fuck your own fingers inside your cunt until you came.

 Poor, sweet girl of mine, Aemond shook his head, tutting. Alone and in need.

How could someone so pretty, such a fucking cock-tease, be so innocent and untouched, so stupid and unknowing to everything sexual?

It did not make any sense to him.

Maybe you were made for him, and only him, and this was the gods’ gentle way of telling him to change his ways before it was too late. Leave behind this career of his, wash away all the red staining his ledger and hang up his callsign, all so he can start a family with you. The family he needs, the one he deserves.

Yes, he thought, that makes more sense. You need him the same way he needs you.

And, really, who was he to ignore the gods above? Aemond himself was no godly man, it was not in the nature of a spy like him- but for you, perhaps the fates might allow it.

Two months later, after a dinner date, Aemond has you pressed against your apartment’s door, his mouth frantically devouring yours in a fervent and wet kiss. It has been so long, so torturous, weeks after weeks of constant late-night jerking off to your pretty pictures and those blue-laced panties he managed to slip from your bedroom that one afternoon and pretending that all he wants to be is your friend.

You are so beautiful, so stunning, especially within this very moment, chest heaving out heavy breaths while you peer up at him as if he is a god.

He grabs at your face, a rough grip on your chin. “Tell me you want it tonight,” he demands, his lips near your ear. You shiver and clutch at his arms, so close to melting into nothing but putty in his hands. “Want what, Aemond?” you ask innocently, batting your dark eyelashes up at him. Fucking cock-tease. He chuckles while trailing light kisses along your jawline and down your neckline, mouthing at your nape and clavicle. You mewl at the feeling. “Please- please, don’t stop…”

“Do my kisses feel good, baby?”

“Yes,” you sigh out, tangling your fingers within his silver hair, “it feels amazing.”

He smirks. “It will feel a whole lot better in a little while, I promise you, sweet girl. But I need to ask…do you trust me?” You nod frantically, leaning up to kiss his lips. “Of course, Aemond. You are my dearest friend! I trust no one more than you.” Aemond just laughs at your words, yearning so badly to tell you that- by the end of the night- your cute ass will no longer be ‘just his friend’ but something much more, definitely.

But where is the fun in that?

“Good, good. Just relax and enjoy everything, okay?”

Aemond then pushes you back against the door, quickly slipping off the pretty floral top you wore and groaning at how your lacy bra cupped your breasts perfectly. Where have you been all my life? He thinks while snaking his hands around your back to unhook your brace and toss it somewhere over his shoulder, too busy salivating over your free and ample breasts and perky nipples.

“Fuck, look at you…so fucking gorgeous,” he mumbles, kneading at your breasts. You stiffen, flushing under his heavy gaze before moving to cover yourself up, feeling a little self-conscious. Aemond shakes his head, gently tugging your hands back to your side. “No, don’t you dare cover yourself up, baby. Not in front of me.” His fingers pinch your nipple, cause your back to arch. “I’ll never understand why no one has ever devoured this pretty body. Gods, look at these tits. You’re so beautiful, baby, a fucking wet dream come true. Mmm, yeah, bet they’ll taste delicious,” and he wraps his lips around a nipple, sucking it into his mouth.

You’re delicious here, and Aemond knows you will be even more down there. His poor cock, still tucked inside his pants, feels like it is weeping, too impatient and irritated and ready to ruin you. His hand slides down your belly to rest on your hipbones and thighs, fingers ghosting around your panties.

“Ohhh…” you gasp out, biting at your bottom lips when his hand slips in.

“Fuuckk,” he drawls out against your breast, thrusting a finger into your wet cunt. “Gods, you’re so fucking wet down here. Absolutely soaking, poor baby.” Aemond strokes your slit a few times before rubbing your clit with his thumb, hearing the way you whine and shake at his actions. “I can’t wait to be inside you, fucking you till all you can think about is me.” He continues his thrusting, watching how your pretty face scrunches in sheer pleasure.

“Are you enjoying this, baby?” he asks, humming. “Do you want me down there tongue-fucking you? Hmm? Oh, wait, my sincere apologies, pretty girl, you probably don’t even know what that means.”

You moan, loud and high-pitched, teeth still chewing on your bottom lip. At your silence, he spanks your ass, causing you to lurch up with a massive gasp. “Use your fucking words, sweetheart. I don’t care for silence, especially from you.”

The more you remain quiet, he thinks, the more spanks you’ll receive.

Eventually, you fling your head back, bumping it against the door. “Okay, yes! Please! Please, Aemond…!”

Grinning, Aemond stands up and draws his lips back to your ear, saying slowly, “Spread those legs then, baby girl, right now.” When you do so, he sinks down to his knees, both hands gently clutching your thighs, “Yeah, that is a good girl. My pretty, good girl of mine.” He moves his face to the front of your pussy, “Can you feel my breath against this pretty clit? Are you waiting for me to devour this pussy? Tongue-fuck you until you’re a stupid little mess? Tell me, baby.”

He then blows against your wetness, ignoring how you jolt hard at the feel. And I’m not taking no for an answer,” he adds before slinging a leg over his shoulder.

“Oh gods, yes, please,” you whine, jerking your hips up against his face. Aemond slaps your asscheeks hard- once, twice, three, four times. “Beg, my pretty baby. C’mon, I know you can do it. Beg for my tongue, beg like you mean it, you stupid and horny little slut.” Your eyebrows furrow at his words and you whimper. “Don’t be mean to me…” you whisper, trying to blink away tears.

Aemond raises an eyebrow. “Oh, you thought that, because this is your first time, I would be nice? My sweet summer girl, you teased me enough these past several months, and I’m done playing nice. Now, tell me you want this. Tell me you want me to claim this pussy as mine.”

Your wanton cries are everything he needs in this life, he soon realizes. If he can spend the rest of his days with his face buried deep between your thighs, he swears he’ll die a happy and satisfied man. The way his name glides off your tongue is incredibly, completely wonderful, and his mind fills with various fantasies and all the positions he will soon have you in, helpless and dripping like a whore in heat.

His pretty whore, forever and always.

“Fuck, baby, who am I to deny you such?” Aemond buries his face between your trembling thighs, inhaling your mouth-watering scent one final time before slipping his tongue inside your wet folds. “You taste so fucking good, baby- shit, you’re leaking all over my face,” he moans amid long licks, fucking you both with his tongue and fingers.

“Oh, gods! Oh- oh- oh…!” You shriek, both legs buckling as your hands clench into tight fists. All of your little moans and whimpers, those pathetic pleas and begs, they all send more blood rushing to his cock. You don’t recognize the early grave you’re digging at, too overtaken by the pleasure.

“So fucking tight against my fingers. How the hell will you take my cock, baby? Fuck, I’m going to destroy you.”

You moan again, in such a loud and lustful cry that causes his resolve to only weaken faster.

“Oh! Oh, Aemond, this feels so good! Please- please, don’t ever stop,” you wail, fat tears gushing down your cheeks. This pleasure, it is a feeling like nothing before, not even coming close to those few times you made some sad and futile attempt to touch yourself, too confused on how to deal with those strange tummy butterflies that seemingly hatched from their cocoons the day you meant Aemond.

How thankful you are that you met him.

Your body squirms every couple seconds, only to wince when he spanks your ass hard again.

“Shut the fuck up,” Aemond hisses without venom. He is too much in love with you for poison. “Do you wish for your neighbors to know that I’m fucking you right now? What would they think? The pretty and sweet girl that lives here, too innocent and naïve for this damn world, letting a man eat her out like a whore.”

You shake your head again, eyes puffy and red from all the tears. “N-no, Aemond…” you stutter out.

Aemond pauses his fingers, now curious to see how far he could go with this new type of torture. But it is not long, though, before you buckle against his hand, your bruised and swollen chest pushing up with stiffened nipples. And your body, it soon tightens as your flustered face screws up in that telltale sign that you are only seconds away from cumming. The scene is beautiful, very much so, and he feels pride that it is all from his own doing.

Yet he drags himself back up on his feet, removing his fingers from your cunt before you could cum. Perhaps it is a bit too cruel on his part, but Aemond could care less; he wants you to cum on his cock for your first time.

There will be many more times of this, he wants to reassure you. He doesn’t, though.

You’ll find out on your own time.

You gaze at him through bleak and narrowed eyes as he unbuttons his pants and shoves them down to his ankles. “You poor, poor little thing,” he tuts, running a gentle hand through your damp hair, “-are you tired? You look tired, but from what? You didn’t even cum once!” He pats your cheek, “Don’t worry, my sweet girl, you’re about to. Can’t tell you how many times, but it’ll be a lot.”

And Aemond does not wait for your response, instead snatching your hand and pressing it against his boxers. “Can you feel that, baby? That is my cock. Can you feel how hard it is? You did this, you made me so fucking hard that it hurts.” He clicks his tongue, shaking his head, “Now, that is not very nice, is it? No, no, no it is not. I thought you were a sweetheart…” He shoves your hand back, ignoring the small tears that gather in your eyes again.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, wiping them away. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Aemond! Please don’t be mad at me…please, how can I help you? I’ll do anything,” you pout as you watch him slip down his boxers. Your teary eyes grow as wide as dinner plates, and your breath hitches. It is so sexy to him, eating away at the little self-control he is trying to maintain.  

You’re a virgin, he reminds himself. Soft and easy, my baby deserves that.

“Shhh, baby,” Aemond rasps out, cupping your face within his hand. He kisses your nose, cheeks, and forehead before finding your lips. “I’m not mad, really, my sweet girl. I know you meant no harm, you’re too sweet and good for that,” and he holds your face against him while readying to fuck you with his cock. He can feel your short pants, the little breaths you take, and how you shudder whenever his clammy skin meets yours.

“Relax your body, baby girl, don’t tense up. It will hurt less…good girl, that’s my good girl.”

Nice and slow, he chants as he slowly sinks into your cunt, groaning at the tightness, slow and nice. You whimper, eyes rolling back as begins his thrusts, slow and easy. I’m a gentleman.

Mother made me promise to be a gentleman.

I’m a gentleman. I’m a gentleman. I’m a gentleman.

But the look you are giving him, with your lips pink and puffy from the shit ton of kisses and bites, and the way your pussy clenches around his cock…it is causing him to forget all about how his mother indeed made him promise to be nothing short but a gentleman.

You’re too pretty for him not to devour, and…well, were you not made for him? The gods created you with the purpose of him eventually finding and caring for you, the way it should’ve always been- the way it will be for now on. His one good eye (the one those stupid bastards left alone back at the academy) watches as you shake and quiver and mewl out the sweetest and yummiest little moans.

The way you are right now, you’re just begging to be made into a new mother, and his mind goes insane at the sudden image of you heavy with his children, huffy and sore and always exhausted. It is delicious to think about. Aemond- truthfully- never really thought about kids, constantly busy with the espionage lifestyle and the back-to-back missions, but you…oh, he knows that, after tonight, you’ll have no choice but to remain by his side as the baby grows, needing him to protect and provide and shower you with love and affection.

He’ll be the best husband and father, and you his good girl- his precious slice of normality.

The way it should be, the way it will be.

It is half a year later that Aemond “The One-Eyed White Death” Targaryen finally connects back with his boss through a phone call.

Before that, he dropped off the grid, returning no calls and messages and signals, leaving everyone behind at the headquarters confused, concerned, and scratching their heads as to why their finest agent suddenly vanished without a trace.

He was not dead- they knew that. He was just…gone.

“What happened, agent?” The director asks, fiddling with his pen while another agent of his attempts to get some kind of reading on him. No luck; Aemond made himself untraceable. “Are you hurt, Aemond? Did someone threaten you? You left after I assigned you that mobster and- well, we assumed the worst, son.”  

Aemond chuckles, shaking his head. “No, boss, do not worry about me," he says, "I’m good. Very good, in fact, the happiest I’ve ever been in my life, one might say.”

He leans against the doorway, arms crossing over his chest as he watches you flip through a baby store catalog and marvel at all the products they have for sale- the finest baby strollers, a variety of cribs, bassinets, and swing sets, and the cutest little animal plushies and clothing.

“Frankly, boss, I just grew tired of the spy life.”

“Is that so? And pray tell what you are now, Aemond One Eye.”

He smiles, eyeing your baby bump and how you are utterly glowing. “I’m a family man.”

[hmsdoodlin]

Reassuring the Moon

Heart and Soul, platonic fluff, 791 words.

—————————————————————

Soul peeked his head into Hearts room, eyes adjusting to the darkness inside as he carefully stepped in and closed the door behind him.

It was almost pitch black in here, the only light being the soft moon and star fairy lights that gave off a weak, but comforting glow throughout the room. Heart was light sensitive, extremely so, but Soul couldn’t help but notice the way he gravitated towards softer, gentler lights such as nightlights and candles.

In cacophony the man would shroud himself in darkness, but in concord he began to welcome the warmth of the sun and its illuminating glow. Soul was thankful for the fact Heart was able to heal over that particular trauma, but also so he could finally see anytime he entered his bedroom.

Soul stepped over to Hearts bed, navigating the organized chaos beneath him. To Heart there were intricate, well known paths between scattered clothes, to Soul it was a minefield. His bed was messy, covered with multiple pillows and blankets with a large suspiciously human shaped lump sat under the covers. The stars sat next to it, pretending not to hear the stifled sniffles that escaped its barrier.

“{It’s me. You can come out.}” Was all Soul said, hoping that Heart was in a talking mood today. Now that they had reached harmony his ‘tantrums’ were few and far between, but it never hurt to be wary.

A head peeked out from the blanket, messy hair going in all directions as he turned to face Soul. He only sniffed in response, obviously trying to stop his crying. He seemed conflicted, doing his best to stop the trembling of his lips.

Soul sighed, leaning in to touch their shoulders together. Heart stiffened, but did nothing to move away.

“{Alright. Tell me what happened.}”

His voice was as gentle as he could muster, trained to handle even the worst of situations. He was well accustomed to these little meetings, and knew exactly how to coax his heart out of his shell.

Heart sighed, pressing back against Souls weight as if to ground himself.

“(Nothing in particular. It’s just, one of those days.)” He mumbled, wiping away the evidence of his tear stained face.

They all had these moments, still struggling with their thoughts even after their happily ever after. Soul hummed in acknowledgment, taking his words as the truth. They trusted each other now, Heart didn’t hide his deepest feelings as much as he used to anymore. If it were serious he’d say it, and Soul was content helping either way.

As if on cue Heart practically fell into Souls lap, lifting his legs over Souls and looping two strong arms around his neck. The stars welcomed the contact happily, cradling the warmth against him.

Heart hooked his chin over Souls shoulder, practically nuzzling into his hair.

“(I guess I’m a bit scared.)”

Soul instinctively hugged him closer, a bit taken aback by the confession.

“{Scared? What in the world could you be scared about my moon?}”

Heart huffed, seemingly apprehensive to share. The stars brought a hand to Hearts back, gently soothing circles into the skin and hoping the nickname eased his tension.

{It’s ok, I’ve got you} it says.

“(I’m scared that everything is going to end soon. That this is too good to be true.)”

Soul bit his lip, hundreds of loops flashing behind his eyes. It always ended eventually, harmony never lasted long. He took a breath, careful not to let his nerves show. Heart was right, in the grand scheme of things this was most likely a small blip in time.

Heart stayed silent in his arms, the stars having to forcibly bring himself back to reality by leaning into the warmth against him.

“{It might.}” He admitted, long done with lying to his halves. “{But that doesn’t mean what we’re experiencing now doesn’t matter. It brings us closer to true harmony in the end.}”

Soul had been trying to be positive lately, relishing in the little things before they were taken from him. They were far from perfection, but it was nice to pretend for a while. It was either that or being driven mad from failure, Soul took a page out of Hearts book to start living in the moment. Maybe that’s why concord this time around was lasting longer than usual, despite the persistent underlying feeling of dread.

He felt Heart smile beside him, allowing himself to calm completely. He pulled back to face Soul, imagining his weary face before him.

“(When did you get so sappy?)” he asked, freely allowing Soul to put a hand to his cheek. He leaned into it with a content hum.

“{The moment I finally started listening to you guys.}”

[scarlet--wiccan]

Are you watching the Agatha show? I don’t have any desire to but I’ve heard some things about them leaning very heavily into the antisemitic and antiromani elements of like, “witch lore” and stuff, that sounds unbelievably vile (in addition to the already horrible things you’ve discussed). Namely Agatha stealing and eating children and Billy having to get in an oven. Are those things that actually happened in the show?

Yeah, I've been watching it. To be clear, I've been pirating it. You couldn't convince me to pay for Disney +, even before the boycott. But because there is a certain degree of ambiguity around some of the characters and adaptational choices, I want to be informed when I talk about the show.

To date, yes, there have been a couple of throwaway jokes about Agatha eating babies. My impression, so far, is that the show is very preoccupied with pop culture depictions of witches and witchcraft, which, as you can imagine, are shallow and frequently veer into racist territory. This is evidenced by several homages and references to other movies, and many facets of the show's worldbuilding. The baby-eating jokes are just another aspect of this. Agatha frequently makes glib asides about witch stereotypes, the history of witch trials, etc-- either playing into those tropes to make herself seem comically sinister, or else dismissing them in a humorously derisive tone. These sort of jokes are a lot less funny when you're aware that many of those tropes are based in racism and antisemitism, and that witch trials are a part of actual history that, in the real world, were less about witchcraft, and more about religious zealotry, racism, and abuse of power.

All of this just feels extra tone deaf in light of the fact that the show features multiple whitewashed Romani and Jewish characters, it's pulling directly from material that talks very openly about that heritage, and it's built on the back of Wanda/Vision, which did the same thing to an even greater degree. You know, it would be one thing if these characters were just taken out context, and that was the end of it, but it's never just that-- these offensive references persist in spite of the erasure. For example, Lupone's character, Lilia, exemplifies the caricature of an eccentric gypsy fortune teller, despite having been rewritten as a white woman from Sicily.

To be clear, I believe that the folkloric concept of witches-- who, in this context, are more often represented as non-human monsters or spirits-- abducting and/or eating children, can and does exist separately from blood libel. But, that trope has also been closely entwined with antisemitism for a very long time, and with Agatha, we have little choice but to read it through that lens.

As for oven thing-- I do think there is a bit of nuance. Part of the show's premise is that the cast has to traverse a series of surreal magical realms. In this case, they're trapped in a house that is rapidly flooding, and an unexpected exit appears when the oven door pops open and reveals a portal they can escape through. The optics aren't great, and my first thought was that they could have just as easily used a cabinet or the fridge. But the oven was deliberately chosen so that Lilia could make an aside about the witch from Hansel & Gretel-- again, the show is obsessed with making these little nods and references. Given the set-up and intention, the oven situation feels more like an unfortunate coincidence than other, much more overt instances of racist and anti-semitic tropes. But because Lilia and maybe-Billy are in the scene, and there is an established precedent, we do have to acknowledge the image it conjures.