#Mark Sloan lives

[dirtytransmasc]

I think Mark and Rex should get together cause they're both bisexual disasters who probably don't realize they're bisexual yet and have a terrible 0 for fucking 0 history of dating women, cause it never ended well for either party. and like. I don't think it'll fix them. it'll probably just make them worse but I think they should kiss anyway.

[userlaylivia]

i chose the deaths that affected me the most and I even forgot some so I'll do a part 2 eventually!! I didn't include allison because she won my last poll I think plus the movie brought her back so lol

[lopeirce]

endless list of incredible scenes → Mark Sloan, Grey’s Anatomy (Remember The Time)

[chicleeblair]

Uncomfortably Numb [5/55]||FFN

Rating: NC-17/Explicit

Pairings: Meredith Grey/Derek Shepherd, Lexie Grey/Mark Sloan

Meredith isn't the only Grey to make it home alive after the plane crash. How does Lexie's return affect everyone else's recovery? With Mark gone and returning to the O.R. as a surgeon an unlikelihood, can Lexie really say she's survived? AO3||FFN

I'll be posting an unrelated one-shot next Friday, so this is a great time to catch up!

[krisb5431]

The noble Tumblr community, always eager to help, Thank you from the bottom of my heart ❤️.

This is a message of appreciation 🙏 to all of you for standing by us.

As the announcement of the ceasefire in Gaza approaches 🕊️, the first thing I do is write these words to express my gratitude and thanks 🌟 for being part of our survival.

This post is a message of gratitude and appreciation ✨. I hope it will be shared and spread widely—just reblog 🔄.

Post link

Sharing to spread the word ♡♡♡

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤMY CRAZY BOYFRIENDㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Teen Team Guys x Fem Reader

☆⁠ SYNOPSIS : When They Act Crazy But Think It's Normal.

☆⁠ CHARACTERS : Mark Grayson, Rex Sloan, Rudolph 'Rudy' Conners, Male Eve Wilkins.

☆⁠ NOTES : English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

— MARK GRAYSON ⋆

You sigh, rubbing your eyes as you slide open your closet door, fully prepared to grab a sweater and move on with your night. Instead, you’re greeted by the sight of Mark, squatting in the corner like some feral raccoon, clutching one of your hoodies to his chest.

He blinks up at you, wide-eyed.

“…Hey.”

You don’t even react. You just shut the door again.

“Wait—babe! Come back! This isn’t what it looks like!” His muffled voice seeps through the wood.

“Oh, it’s exactly what it looks like.” You rub your temples. “Mark, why the fuck are you in my closet?”

There’s a long silence, then a hesitant, “…To be close to you?”

You groan.

“Okay—wait—before you get mad,” he tries, “I technically haven’t left. Like, all day. So, technically, I haven’t been following you, I’ve just… always been here.”

“GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HOUSE!!!”

He bursts out like a guilty child, tripping over your shoes in the process. “I just like your smell, okay?! It’s comforting!”

You’re pretty sure he’s stolen half your wardrobe at this point.

Then you grab your coat and walk out of your room. You can’t deal with this. "I'm sleeping at a friend's house."

"Okay!" he calls after you. "I'll be right here when you get back!"

— REX SLOAN ⋆

You're at a restaurant, minding your business, when the waiter places a drink in front of you.

"Here's your drink, ma'am," the poor guy says.

Rex lunges across the table, knocking everything over in his path. "WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, BUD?!"

The entire restaurant turns to stare as Rex grabs the waiter by the collar.

"Sir, I—"

"DO YOU THINK SHE WANTS YOUR DRINK? YOU THINK SHE WANTS YOU?! YOU TRYNA FLIRT?!" Rex’s hands start to glow, dangerous sparks flying. The table catches fire.

The waiter is pale. "Sir, this is my job—"

"OH, SO YOUR JOB IS TO HIT ON MY GIRL?! I’LL BLOW YOUR NUTS OFF!"

"Rex," you hiss, face buried in your hands. "Put him down. Right. Fucking. Now."

Silence.

Then Rex lets go. The waiter collapses onto the floor, trembling.

Rex turns to you, panting, eyes crazed. Then he smirks, sliding into the seat next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulders. "So anyway, babe, I was thinkin’ about gettin’ a tattoo of your name across my chest."

You stare at the burning table. "I'm leaving."

— RUDOLPH CONNERS ⋆

You wake up to the soft, persistent buzzing of your phone. You squint at the screen.

Unknown Number: Good morning. You should drink some water. Your body temperature was slightly high at 3:42 AM.

Your stomach drops.

You: Who is this???

Unknown Number: You left your window unlocked again. I locked it for you. You’re welcome.

You don’t respond. Instead, you launch out of bed, rip open your curtains—

And stare directly at a hovering drone. It stares back.

It waves at you.

“Jesus Christ,” you whisper.

Your phone buzzes again.

Unknown Number: Why did you close your curtains? :(

— EVAN WILKINS ⋆

You freeze as soon as you step into your apartment. Something is… off.

The walls. They’re a different color. Your furniture? Not where you left it. Your wardrobe? Different.

Oh no. Not again.

“Surprise!” His voice is so cheerful, it makes you want to throw something.

You whirl around. There he is, standing in your newly pink-painted living room, arms wide open like he expects a hug.

You stare at him, horrified. “What did you do?”

“I made everything better!” he beams. “I mean, you have terrible taste. No offense.”

“No offense?!” You gesture around wildly. “You redesigned my entire apartment without asking!”

“Yeah, because I love you,” he says, like that explains everything.

You inhale deeply. Do not commit murder. Do not commit murder.

“Also, I made sure the door won’t open until we talk about your feelings,” he adds helpfully.

You scream into a pillow.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[thebowerypresents]

S.G. Goodman Is Thankful in Williamsburg

S.G. Goodman – Music Hall of Williamsburg – November 3, 2023

“I’m S.G. Goodman, thank you so much for being here!” I think she must have said that after every single song she played at Music Hall of Williamsburg on Friday night, a mix of dry wit and genuine appreciation. The show was a delightfully incongruous confluence of her off-key banter, delicate poetic lyricism, and cosmic vibrations of guitar and pedal steel. Things began with those guitars in an ambient swell, dramatically building to feedback that dissolved into the opening song, “The Way I Talk,” off Goodman’s debut album, Old Time Feeling. 

As the set progressed, her drawling voice took center stage. The pairing of “If You Were Someone I Loved” and “You Were Someone I Loved” crackled with slide guitar until melting into Goodman howling into the room, the audience silent in admiration. The title track on last year’s Teeth Marks was another highlight, emotional lyrics meeting deft instrumentation. In between songs, she waxed philosophic at length on naming her tour after “Patron Saint of Dollar Stores” and other topics.

Her admiration for outlaw country shone through on the cover of Waylon Jennings’ “Waymore’s Blues,” which included a friendly “competition” with back-and-forth solos from pedal steel player Luke Schneider and guitarist Mark Sloan. After an appropriately solo take on “Solitaire,” Goodman closed the set with the love song “Space and Time,” a cushion of bass and drums and a glittering of guitars to finish things. The show felt complete, but no one in the room was complaining when they all returned for an encore, the rollicking “Work Until I Die,” Goodman in full West Kentucky growl until leaving her band onstage in an extended rock-out, her final “Thank you so much for being here.” —A. Stein | @Neddyo

Photos courtesy of Toby Tenenbaum | @TobyTenenbaum

[sqgeism]

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬, | rex sloan 'splode' x gender neutral reader

love mail — PLEAASE please rex sloane be famous IM BEGGINg this took me like an hour but it's so long i'm actually surprised i committed to it. !!( ; ﾛ)ﾟ ﾟguys.. .. please... my efforts for my alive husband.. MAJOR S3 SPOILERS ! angst too oops, not proofread sorri !

wc : 2.2k

the three times rex sloan broke your heart.

rex sloan, or splode, one or the other — depending on how much he liked you, was a man that many knew for his pride, ego, and utter selfishness. the living, breathing representative of a self absorbed man. you hated the fact you fell for his stupid jokes and undeniable charm, how could you not? in his words, he was irresistable, and you had to admit.. he wasn't lying.

rex had you smitten with that little smirk of his and promises of well spent 'bonding' and 'getting to know each other'. you were doomed the moment he caught on to what made you tick, and what made you flush.

the very first time he had broken your trust, was his promise to court you — to have a beautiful life with you, that your eyes were pretty, that you were his, all his. only to hear those same words as he pounds into some random woman in your apartment, to your dismay. clothes that weren't yours and ones that definitely belonged to rex are scattered all over the place, and you just feel sick.

you make sure to yell for them to get out. and your eyes burn into rex's unapologetic ones, you see that smile on his face — unashamed, uncaring. you accept your defeat, that you fell for stupid, flowery words, from a pretty face with an ugly heart. you fall to the floor when you hear the door click, wobbly knees unable to hold you up for any longer as you sob; heart screaming at you for allowing yourself to be betrayed like this — when you knew you should have been smarter, wiser. not fall to something as stupid as love.

dealing with him around the base was your worst nightmare. he was fine; same insufferable jerkbag, while you cried and cried for days on end. where your body felt used, and your heart strings being tugged so tightly, you were afraid your fraile organ would burst. you knew one thing for sure, rex splode — was a man beyond redemption, beyond saving, and beyond forgiveness.

you dealt with seeing his face all the time, pissing you off, the team off, and being the same arrogant asshole he always was. you scold yourself for ever thinking he was anything different, for all the times he confided in you, and you him, for all the times your connection was more than cheap sex — was revealed to be nothing. hell, you wouldn't even be surprised if the cheap sex was all rex cared about. fuck that guy. (not literally, enough of that.)

the second time was weird. because you never even took him back — but after his.. haunting battle with king lizard that damn near killed him, the team did everything they could to keep him alive. at the cost of him needing to be bedridden for a while, unconcious, barely breathing.

you don't know why you even bothered to visit. you used to fight the urge to bash his face in, but seeing him so.. still, perhaps even peaceful.. you come to wonder how anyone was able to tame that fire he so naturally burned with. you made regular visits with mark, his best friend. and the way he talked about rex, made you remember the version of him you understood him as. for all his spunk and bite, he was still a man. a man who just wanted to be loved; for reasons unbeknownst to you at the time, as his past left him feeling unwanted.

you pitied him, almost. nothing can excuse cheating, nothing — but still.. you can never really get rid of the affection you held for someone. in the back of your head, like a virus that won't go away, it stays.. even if you can't see it, you definitely feel it.

things got worse when he woke up, because you don't know why — or how — but he just.. got better. scoffs and sneers turned to smiles and greetings, brushed off attempts at small talk became check ups on his health, and for the first time in the longest time.. your heart softened for him. you felt the familiar ache of your heart whenever he was around, but not one of hatred, but instead of.. yearning. oh no. your feelings for him coming back a second time around was not welcomed.

you didn't know how to feel on the night rex asked to see you at the roof of your apartment complex, and you didn't know what you were thinking when you agreed to meet. your footsteps feel heavy as you walk the stairs to the very top, and when you open the door — there he is. you expected the whole hero get-up, it was like the only thing he wore.. but no, just a shirt and plain pants while he leaned against a short wall, his back turned as he looked over to the city below. weird, you noted, but rex splode was always weird. and annoying, and insufferable, and —

"you ever think about what it's like?"

you snap out of your thoughts — surprised to hear such softness in his voice. it was almost believable, you scoffed mentally, even if you two were on better terms, you remained cautious. but nevertheless, you walk towards him, standing by his side with crossed arms. "what are you getting at?" you mumbled, an unintentional bite in your tone as rex chuckled, all too familiar with it.

"you know, what it means to be more than a hero — something more than a masked figure that saves lives, lives that are the reason i can only wonder what it must be like to.." his voice trails off, but you're understanding the direction this conversation is going.

you opened your mouth to continue his sentence, the previous snark disappearing. "be happy, truly, and unapologetically happy." you finished, turning your head to search his face for confirmation of her assumption of his words. his bittersweet smile speaks volumes.

he then asks; "you know my last name? like, for real." laughing at the question, you answer without thinking. "splode. it's stupid, rex splode — explode —"

"sloan."

your laugh slowly dies down, blinking at the realization. "my full name is rex sloan." rex, for the first time in.. ever, looks vulnerable. and all of a sudden, you recall just exactly why you were always so captivated by those eyes of his.

the talk extends for a couple hours, some tears are shed, unsaid words were finally shared, and a single promise was made.

"i promise," rex's hand makes it's way to your cheek, soothing your sniffles as the other pulls you close by the hip. a gesture you once recognized as rex wanting something physical, but there was more to this.. something emotional, a connection beyond desire and lust. "—that i'll be better. i'll fix what i broke back then, when i was spoiled, a big brat.. and that i'll be a good man for you. for all the hurt i caused, i'll try to heal tenfold. i'll be more than.. rex splode, i'll be yours." he whispered, leaning in close and brushing his nose against yours, a form of sweet affection.

and at those words, you leaned in to kiss him. a seal, one could say, to his oath of change. and since rex was staring at your lips all night, being on his very best behavior, he appreciated the reward. "you know.." he mumbled against your lips, smiling. "for once in my shitty life, i think i'm actually content." a laugh escapes him, and you practically swallow it with the way he just.. can't, won't pull away from you. "it's kinda worth living if it's with you."

but nothing could be greater than his relief that you forgave him. that the man you found to be so repulsive and conniving, was worth forgiving. and you will never know how much that meant to him. how much you meant to him.

the third, and very last time rex had broken your heart, was the invincible war.

the team was sent to deal with an invincible variant, no biggie! rex was joking about how excited he was to kick his best friends ass, and you laugh.. the war was hard, after all. with so much destruction, some humor doesn't hurt.

you wish you told him to not underestimate the enemy, to have a high guard.. because maybe, maybe you could've stopped this.

monster girl and rudy are safe, they had long fleed the bridge and now it was just you and rex. beaten, bloodied, and bruised.. but together. rex had taken so many more hits, for you and the others more than anything else. the gash in his side is still dripping blood and you feel sick at the sight. you can't win this, you won't win this.

your thoughts are disturbed by the hardest hit you'll likely ever take if you make it out of here alive, slamming you into a wall, knocking the wind out of you. "agh—.." trying to get up serves impossible, every inch of your body is screaming for you to stand, but the building shakes with each explosion rex throws at gogglesible — and all you can do is helplessly watch as your boyfriend, the love of your life, still tries to fight a battle he knows he's lost.

your one good eye widens at the sight of gogglesible getting the upper hand, grabbing rex by the throat — chokes and curses of struggle escaping his lips. "when i'm done with you, it'll be your dumb little partner next. right after they watch you get torn to shreds, limb by limb, with nothing left of you to mourn." the variant spoke coldly, his grip on rex's neck tightening with every second.

you watched helplessly, tears brimming in your eyes as you catch rex's gaze. even as he struggles, he's still got his eyes on you, so loving, full of nothing but adoration. so that's when you know somethings wrong — because for all the love you have for him, you know he wasn't the type to become sappy in the middle of battle. not unless —

that's when you're forcing yourself to move. grabbing onto the wall as you don't notice the way he reaches into his aforementioned gash, too focused to getting to him before it's too late.

rex always joked about going out with a bang — oh fuck, please be some messed up joke.

"honey,"

the sound of his voice immediately makes you snap your head to him, the kindest smile is on his lips — and he's got that apologetic look in his eyes. he knows what'll happen, he just hopes you remember him fondly. not for who he was, but who he became. cause among everything else, he was grateful to become yours. that you will be the one person to remember him as rex sloan, and not the jackass the world made him be.

"make sure to look away f'me, yeah?"

three times rex broke your heart,

two times you chose to forgive —

and one whole lifetime to live without him.

you sob as you turn your head away, the sight too much to bear as the last thing you see is rex's skin beginning to glow an bright yellow hue.

"my entire goddamn skeleton, dickhead."

and then, it was over.

you wake up in a hospital bed, noticing the burn marks that cover your skin, almost mocking the experience you had only hours prior. a reminder of who you lost, permanently engraved on your body forever.

at your side, is a note; it's not anything grandiose, hell — it's crumpled and the penmanship looks half assed. but you know it all too well, rex.

hey, i'm awful at notes. don't expect sappy shit, alright? i just have a horrible feeling about the mission and, you know, no regrets. not saying somethings gonna go wrong but i just want you to know.

when i met you, i was a horrible guy. i chased nothing but my own self pleasure and ego, and i still regret it. the way you looked at me that night, i get scared of disappointing you like that again. god, i wish i wasn't writing this on some tiny notepad i stole from marks desk, but i digress.

i love you, holy fuck i love you. you're my world, my honey, my heart. you made an irredeemable scumbag a tolerable young man, and that's something to be proud of. make sure to never forget that, okay? you were the reason i stopped throwing myself into danger like i was immortal, for once i..

i would be afraid.

for the first time in my life, i was terrified of dying, and that was new — so incredibly new to me. regardless, i'm glad i get to come home to you every single night, honey. no need to be afraid of dying when i know i'll fight hard to live, and see your pretty eyes first thing in the morning.

i love you, for all your sassy remarks and shitty jokes, i love you.

i'll see you when we get back from the mission, and you'll laugh at me for making something so stupid and sappy. but you know i mean it, everything, it's always for you. all of it is for you.

— utterly yours, r. s. ♡

[empyrean-thrones]

The Cat thing pisses me off so much. It’s supposed to be this feminist girlboss moment but it doesn’t work because the narrative paints her in such a negative light even when she states that she doesn’t want to fuck Xaden. Violet says in her inner monologue that “he’s not a stepping stool” like god forbid women want power to protect their people from being nuked off the planet 🙄

And then there’s the “ironic totally subversive” comments Vi makes towards her that just come off as sexist. Like, her asking if Cat talks about anything other than men and then later saying yes when asked if she thinks Cat is petty enough to fight her over Xaden. Then she rubs it in her face that X-box 360 fingered her (why did we the audience need to know any of this?) and casually drops lore about how Tyrrendor’s crowns were all smelted to form the crown of Unification or whatever as a big fuck you. If anything, it just reads to me like Violet’s got a case of internalized misogyny, especially since she got weirdly jealous of Imogen for… *checks notes* admiring X-Games or whatever.

But those two are literally fighting over a man. Yeah, Cat says she just wants the crown but it belongs to a man whom she has to marry to own. Yarros’ comments about how no one would call her catty if she was a man makes me absolutely livid. Ma’am, you literally made the conscious decision to name her Cat and had your MC call her catty in the same scene she’s introduced. Wtf are you talking about?

I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: Cat should’ve hated Violet because she’s a Navarrian fuckhead who’s mom is a fascist cunt that ruined her peoples’ lives. She should’ve seen her as someone who doesn’t really care about Poromiel but is only interested in getting brownie points and being a good person (aka your typical American).

I hate that Cliffsbane got nuked because we could’ve had the riders live there for a bit and start to realize Bàsgiath’s a piece of shit college. When the venin show up and wreck everything resulting in Luella’s death. The riders actually get to see the carnage and aftermath of a venin attack. Cat goes on a rant blaming all of them for the destruction of her second home. Then when they go to Aretia and have that sparring fight, Cat isn’t beating the shit out of Violet for a stupid crown, she’s doing it for Luella and all the people she and so many others lost because of the Sorrengails and Navarre’s actions.

Oh DO elaborate on RY liking Xaden more than Violet. You have me intrigued 👀

Okay, here we go again...

(I wrote a LOT, and this is just me contextualizing why I have this feeling)

By the 3/4 mark of FW (after Vi and Xaden have sex for the first time) I noticed a sudden shift of focus in the story, up until that point the narrative was centered around Violet's conflicts in the quadrant, her relationship with her dragons and friends (Liam and Dain specifically), and her own growth regarding her skills and power but after.... well

The story in itself was already pretty centered around developing Vi/Xaden dynamics, and since it's a romantasy that's to be expected, but Violet still had plenty of space to be her own person without him (she deals with Jack on her own; sneaks out with Rhi and Mira in Montserrat; steals the map with her squad during war games; goes to the archives with Liam and interacts with Jesinia. some mommy issues here and there, etc)

Anyways, jumps to them sleeping together -> issues with him not wanting to feel involved because he's lying to her -> reunification day -> love declarations and more sex -> wargames -> she finds out he's lying to her and everything sucks -> wakes up in Aretia

Now IF was something, and I don't want to drag this out too much so just to point out a couple examples:

Violet never goes to Shantara with her friends and instead spends all her time thinking about and interacting with Xaden, we have 1 scene of her actually talking to Rhi and that's it

The time Violet, Mira and Brennan sneaked out to Cordyn to negotiate for the luminary could've been a plot around siblings bonding and talking things over but instead, Xaden gets shoved in the middle of it and now the situation is about Cat being bitchy, and fighting with Vi over Xaden's attention

Violet, Mira, and Brennan do fight a venin together but then the story shifts again to Xaden being overprotective and choking Tecarus and we have no more interaction between the 3 that I can remember (notice they did not, in fact, talk anything through)

There are more moments where I don’t think Xaden was actually necessary to further the plot and could’ve just stayed out so Violet’s other relationships and goals could have some space to be explored more in-depth, it doesn’t help that many of those times he was just in the scene to repeat the same inner conflict Violet had for the tenth time about him and not to actually do something with his character.

Now, besides the overuse of him in the story we also have his description, which basically consists of him being better than anyone else (keep in mind that's a 23yr man), he's the tallest, strongest, more powerful (for now at least), heir of a crown, two incredibly rare signets, is never wrong about anything, always one step ahead (keep in mind he is a 23yr man against an entire government), is the unofficial leader of the revolution, heavily objectified, etc, etc, etc, while everyone else is... just a person - I let that slide because again, romantasy, the love interest is always the tallest guy with the most rare/amazing/special power to ever power until the fmc arrives

Connect that with how RY develops Violet's opposing forces within her circle (the assembly and cat, to be specific), the whole Violet/Xaden/Cat situation is (according to RY) a conflict for power, but when we look at what she actually wrote... that whole "I'm not doing this over a man" argument holds no weight since none of Cat's actions is related to anything besides wanting Xaden back and being his ex

Cat and Violet could've had a genuine rivalry based on their family's history, maybe some academic rivals like we see the two having over the runes and everything but NO, every argument the two had was about who had Xaden first and who he wanted now

When the author repeatedly shifts the focus of the narrative to revolve around the love interest to the detriment of the main character's journey and development I think it is safe to assume said author likes the love interest more than she cares for the main character.

(Biggest proof I can think of is when Mira gets in Aretia, we have sibling drama until Xaden arrives and then oops, just focusing on him now, no more family drama)

Anyway, my last point is how he's framed and excused by the narrative, we have quite a few people openly taking his side on the "full disclosure" conflict (I can think about Imogen and Brennan from memory and will not go back to see who else) and pointing out why Vi was being unreasonable to want to know everything, even RY commented that "it's like dating a CIA agent" or whatever to defend Xaden while, in the text, Violet could not care less about knowing of the revolution, every time she got upset with him was because he was keeping things that involved her.

Big problem with the series actually, we are told a lot of things but not shown any of them.

Another time back in FW when Dain asks "why he has a pass to be overprotective" and the answer Vi gives is not it, multiple times ignoring her boundaries and exercising power over her that are never addressed or even framed as bad, many things glossed over, etc etc.

How he's also portrayed as the only person besides Violet who can actually think, the only one to notice she was poisoning people, the only half-competent assembly member, the only one capable of smuggling weapons (can someone give the man a break, he's overworked)

Also, have you seen RY talking about him in comparison of how she talks about VI or anyone else? I think it is quite obvious actually

[mercvry-glow]

All that glitters

parings. jack abbot x nurse!reader

summary. jack isn't a materialistic man, and you try your best not to be spoiled—but when your man gets flirted with, maybe it's time to flaunt the rings?

warnings. typical pitt setting, hospital drama, age gap bc i make the rules in this house (Jack late 40s, reader late 20s early 30s), secret marriage trope but the don't really try very hard to hide it, jack gets flirted with, sassy jack, reader that has hair long enough to be in a ponytail, other pitt characters, let me know if there's anything else!

notes. love love love jack and younger reader who he loves to spoil—i'll make them my mark sloan/lexie grey dream. sorta follows the stereotype of nurses getting married young with a big phat rock on their finger and reader is living her best life fr, today she's giving health icon realness! like always feedback is very much appreciated and i love all of you!

wc. 1500+

There were very few perks to working night shift in the ER, but your coworkers were definitely one of them. The vibe was calmer, looser. You could play music low, crack jokes in between traumas, and snack on protein bars and green juice in peace without an intern hovering at your elbow asking if this was the “bad kind of blood.”

 More importantly though? You didn’t have to deal with as many junior staff mispronouncing meds or asking you if “NPO” was a hospital in another state.

Not that you were that far off from their age. You were only a few years ahead of most of them, and honestly? You didn’t always look like someone who belonged in the ER. You were the compression jacket-wearing, Pilates-going, smoothie-before-shift, electrolyte-during kind of nurse. Hair always in a claw clip, nails always clean and glossy, scrubs perfectly tailored and paired with a cute fleece half-zip. Your badge reel had glitter. Your tumbler was filled with ice water. You had a favorite lip balm and two glosses.

And somehow, you were married to Jack Abbot.

Not that most people at PTMC knew that.

Jack—hardass, sarcasm-laced, gruff-charm Abbot—wasn't exactly wearing a “taken” sign on his back. And you weren’t shouting it from the rooftops either. You both liked the privacy, liked having something all to yourselves in a place where everyone seemed to know everyone else’s business.

Still, the diamond on your finger didn’t exactly scream subtle. It was flashy. Big, clear, and set in a gold band that sparkled aggressively under the hospital’s harsh fluorescents. People noticed it. You’d caught more than one resident blinking at it mid-sentence.

Jack noticed it too, especially when you wandered over to where he stood, leaning casually against the wall near the trauma bay—arms crossed, mouth in a flat line, giving you that look he always did when you showed up a little too put together for the ER at 2 a.m.

You sipped your icy water and tapped your fingers against your cup. “Slow night.”

He didn’t even glance at you. “You trying to get us all booked?”

“Oh come on, I didn’t say the actual Q-word.”

“You said ‘slow night,’ which is the Q-word’s passive-aggressive cousin. We’re totally fucked now, hope you’re happy.”

You smiled sweetly, resting an elbow on the nearby table. “I brought chia pudding for later. Want one?”

He side-eyed you. “I don’t even know what the hell that is.”

“It’s gut healthy, Jack. There’s fruit in it too,”

“I don’t trust anything that you find on TikTok.”

You giggled, which only made him more suspicious. Jack’s gaze dipped to your hand as you fiddled with the straw in your drink, the ring practically glowing.

“You’re really wearing that thing tonight?”

You blinked innocently. “What, this old thing?”

He snorted. “You know it’s blinding under these lights, right? Someone’s gonna seize just from the glare.”

“Well then I’m technically doing my job,” you said, smiling. “Keeping you on your toes.”

“You’re gonna give the interns a complex. They think you’re single, you know.”

Your eyes widend in fake horror. “You don’t think I’m flirting with anyone, do you? Frank gets really chatty before he leaves for the night,”

He raised an eyebrow. “With how much you like to bug me, I wouldn’t have noticed.”

“That’s rich coming from you, you like to hover too.”

“I do not.”

“You do.”

Jack tilted his head. “Okay. A little. I’m just makin’ sure my girl’s all good.”

You gave him a light shove and took another sip of your water, just in time to hear the trauma pager start going off. 

MVC. ETA six minutes.

Jack stood up straighter like someone flipped a switch, already reaching for gloves. You grabbed your own pair from your pocket, gently removing your ring and placing it onto the accompanying chain around your neck. It’s something you and Jack had agreed to when it came to your wedding rings, minimal gore around them—”up or off” he liked to call it. He had his own of course, though most of the time he just kept his ring on the necklace while at work. 

You started bouncing lightly on your toes to get the blood flowing, not having had any action in the time since you had arrived. 

“Try not to trip over your own sparkle out there,” he muttered.

You gave him your sweetest smile. “You love it.”

He looked at you for a beat longer than he needed to. “Unfortunately.”

Unfortunately, your ass—he picked that ring out himself.

As the trauma team assembled, you took your place beside him, the two of you syncing without needing to speak. He passed you a gown without asking. You tied the back of his before he even turned around.

If anyone noticed how in step you were, they didn’t say anything.

 Jack’s hand brushed against yours as you moved into the trauma bay, just long enough for you to know he saw you. Always did.

After your first success of the night, the adrenaline had faded from the area like mist burning off in Pitsburgh morning light. You were perched back at the nurses' station, sipping from your oversized pink tumbler once again and tapping notes into the EMR system, your high ponytail somehow still intact after the trauma call. You’d already changed into your backup hoodie, the pale blue one that matched your compression socks. 

A little style, a little lip gloss, and a whole lot of not here for nonsense.

Things had quieted enough for Jack to finally emerge from the trauma bay, only for him to be flagged almost immediately by a patient coming in from the waiting room. She was maybe late twenties, long hair, fresh manicure, a barely-there scrape above her brow. Her chart said “fall on concrete.” Her strappy heels said, fall caused by attention-seeking behavior.

You glanced up briefly, watching Jack walk her to a curtained bay. She was smiling too much. Laughing too loud. He was wearing that look—the one he got when he knew a situation would be annoying and had already mentally detached from it.

“I swear,” the patient was saying, voice high and sweet, “every time I wear these I end up in trouble. Guess that teaches me for wanting to be cute on a Wednesday night.”

Jack didn’t even blink. “Sounds like unfortunate planning.”

You tried not to smirk, eyes drifting back to your screen, but your ears stayed tuned.

Inside the curtain bay, the flirting only ramped up.

“You’ve got great hands,” she continued. “Like, really strong—Are you a surgeon or something?”

“Or something,” he muttered, clearly already regretting every life choice that led to this moment.

A moment later, you stood, casually collecting a folder from the rack. You strolled over, your walk unbothered, the slight shimmer of your clear gloss catching in the overhead light. You didn’t need to announce anything. You just stepped in like you belonged there—because in reality you didn’t.

“Oh—sorry, just grabbing this,” you said lightly, nodding toward the folder tucked on the side cart.

Jack’s eyes flicked to you briefly, then away. But that flicker said a lot. You were his safety net, his distraction, his gentle way out.

The patient looked between you and Jack, then caught sight of his chain. His ring where it should be—resting loosely around his neck, the soft shine of the gold band catching the overhead lights like a quiet announcement.

She blinked. “Oh... You’re married?”

Jack didn’t miss a beat. “I am.”

You turned just slightly, giving a small, polite smile. “He’s got great hands, right? They open all my jars and everything." shifting your own necklaces ever so slightly to show off your own ring.

The patient made a noncommittal noise. You gave Jack a subtle tap on the arm—nothing big, nothing dramatic—and slipped out without another word.

Back at the nurses’ station, Dr. Shen had just walked up, sipping his Dunkin’ coffee and looking comfortable as ever. He glanced at you, then at Jack still behind the curtain.

“New patient?” He asked.

“Minor trauma,” you replied, eyes still on your chart. “Potential for eye strain, though. A lot of eyelash batting happening in there.”

Shen raised one brow. “You jealous?”

You gave a soft laugh, sliding your tumbler closer. “Nope. Just observational.”

Jack appeared a second later, walking past with his usual quiet swagger and that look of can everyone please just not say something dumb, but paused near Shen.

“Patient’s stable. Probably fine to discharge with wound care instructions and a lesson on appropriate footwear.”

Shen nodded. “Noted.”

As Jack passed you, he muttered, “You know that folder wasn’t yours, right?”

You didn’t look up. “You’re welcome.”

He leaned in slightly, dropping his voice. “You’re ridiculous.”

You smiled, too sweet. “She was hitting on you.”

“I noticed.”

“She said you have surgeon hands.”

“I noticed.”

You leaned into him just enough for your perfume to tickle his nose. “You do, you know. Big, capable. Very sexy.”

“Don’t weaponize nice compliments.”

You grinned and rested your cheek on his arm for a beat. “You’re just mad you’re the one getting teased.”

He shook his head with a sigh, then mumbled under his breath, “Married a menace in $98 leggings, and I’m the one being told off.”

And you didn’t even argue—because you absolutely are… and you did buy the leggings in two colors.

mercvry-glow 2025

[shelbgrey]

Hey Pookie so there is this very sexy man named Mark Sloan and I was wondering if you could write some beautiful Fluffy/Smutty dating Headcanons for him PLZ

Dating Mark Sloan headcanons

Paring: Mark Sloan x Shepherd!Reader

Summary: headcanons about Mark Sloan dating Derek's little sister -SMUT warning!

💚MasterList ML2 💚Dating Mood board

You guys started fake dating... That's how it all started. He wanted to make Addison Jelouse and you just want to get back at her for hurting your brother Derek.

You had 10 rules to this plan:

NO Sex - you

Never break rule #1 - you

Be on Mark's services/work in plastics if needed -Mark

Go on dates at least twice a month to make the act look real - Mark

No kissing or touching - if you have to just kiss forehead/cheek and don't touch anything below the waist - you

No sex with nurses, Mark - it'll blow the cover - you

Be nice to my friends(I don't care if you hate interns) - you

Trust each other - mark

Don't play favorites in the hospital - includes not helping with most surgeries/patients - you

Don't fall in love with each other - you

Derek hates it at first, even during the time you guys were faking it all. “stay away from my sister” Derek snapped at mark.

“too late... We're already together”

Derek and Mark got into a fight... That ended with black eyes, bruises, and Mark needing stitches on his face.

“I'm sorry this happened” you mumbled softly as you stitched his jaw for him. He stared at you with those blue eyes you love so much. “don't worry about it”

“maybe we should stop this whole thing” you suggested, Mark shook his head. “no, we got this. Rule #8, remember?” but really he was already falling so hard for you and he wanted to keep you close as long as possible.

Spoil alert you guys broke rule #10 and fell hard for each other. Well he fell first, but you fell harder. “I want this for real... No more fake shit, I love you”

After that ordeal you figured you owed Derek an explanation. Derek never found out about the fake dating, but you need to tell him where your feeling stand. “you love him, don't you?” Derek asks.

“I do... And I trust him” you say.

“if he hurts you... Cheats on you, I'll kill him” simply Derek said and you guys moved on with your lives.

Once you guys start dating for real he faithful and his heart now belongs to you.

Even Derek gave him credit for that. During the few months of you guys actually dating, deek would keep an eye on him. A hot nurse would walk by and Mark wouldn't even look at her.

You see a different side to Mark. He stops looking at any other woman. He just looks at you.

His sweeter, gentler side is only reserved for you.

Callie is your biggest supporter. Always hyping your relationship up. Mark might go to her for relationship advice. Callie might even be a referee during arguments.

Callie is definitely your best friend. You, Mark, and her the hospital's main trio.

Double dates with Callie and Arizona or Derek and Meredith.

He needs physical contact all the time. Rather it be cuddling on bed or on the couch or holding hands in the hospital.

He's a big cuddler. Sometimes he'll just wrap his arms around you and pull you to his chest without saying anything.

He's so flirty with you. No matter how many years you've been together, he still thinks you're the sexiest, most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

Like I said, he flirts with you so much. Some times he'll come up behind you while your working and whispere suggestive comment in your ear or grab your ass.

“stop it! We're at work” you quietly scolded him after his gabered your ass. “I can't help it... You have a nice ass”

You steal his leather jacket all the time, even though it looks big on you he thinks it's hot as hell on you. Now and days the only time he sees that jacket is if your wearing it.

Dirty jokes all the time. If you hear something remotely dirty you'll whisper, “that's what she said”

If he's had a hard day, he either needs one of two things. A rough fuck or he needs to curl up beside you and cuddle.

The way he kisses you makes your heart race. He holds your face in his hands and you honestly feel like you and him are the only things that matter in the world.

But he is a rough kisser, but mostly he's a passionate kisser. He pours all his love and emotions into it, he makes sure your the only one on this earth he wants to love.

He's soft with you when it comes to holding you and give affection. He's so gentle and delicate and you can tell through the way he brushes your hair from your face or the way he nuzzles his face into your neck that he just absolutely adores you.

Your is Angel and he feels so unworthy of you. He's so lucky to have you in his life and he doesn't want to screw it up.

Mark's not the jelouse type and neither are you. Dispite his man-whore past you both have a lot of trust in your relationship, but if you be-friend Jackson I think Mark would get jelouse.

Mark hates the way Jackson looks at you, Mark knows he likes you. But your completely oblivious to it because all you see is Mark.

Doggie parents at the beginning of your relationship. You brought home a rotwiler puppy home without him knowing one time.

That dog is your protector rather or not Mark is there or not. He also gets jealous of Mark and will nuzzle his way between you too if your hugging or kissing.

Sometimes you guys will get home so late from the hospital you'll just want to set on the couch and watch TV because your both sleep deprived.

You guys really don't know why or how you got into it, but you found a Chanel that shows re-runs of American Ninja Warrior and old WWE matches. You guys just stated watching them all the time.

He calls you Angel

You guys play wrestle all the time. Sometimes he'll just let you win because he loves seeing you being so happy about.

He steals the covers all the time and if you get cold you'll cuddle closer to him to get warm. He's relized this, so he'll intentionally steal the covers just to have extra cuddle time.

You get upset if he makes the interns that are on his service get him coffee or get his dry cleaning. “they aren't your servants, Mark” you say, taking the money back from the intern.

If you want Mark to do that stuff himself, you have to threaten to do it yourself. “I'll get it, I'm going that way anyway” you say and mark will quickly stop you. “no, no, I'll do it... You don't have to do that crap for me”

You guys don't fight often, but if you do it's usually a couple of days of the silent treatment. Both of you are too stubborn to say sorry or admit your wrong too.

Watching old Universal monster movies, your favorite is The Bride of Frankenstein. You even got him to dress up at the two monsters with you on Halloween one time.

If your sick he'll drop everything and take care of you, he doesn't care if he catches whatever you have he wants you comfortable and cared for.

His apartment getting the 'girlfriend touch', everything is just cleaner and more organized when you start living with him. “where's my belt?” Mark asked looking all over the bedroom floor where it used to be.

“in your dresser where it's supposed to be... And if I step on it one more time it's going in the trash”

✨Passenger princess✨

If you have a Stanley or a water bottle, whatever you drink out of, Mark will probably be drinking out of it too. You guys kiss and have sex all the time, so he doesn't care if he drinks after you.

NSFW headcanons:

He’s an expert at foreplay. He’ll spend as much time as he can trying to get you hot and bothered or worked up.

He has a tendency to grip the headboard when he's close to cumming.

He has this mischievous kind of charm to him and he uses it to his advantage when it comes to getting your attention. He knows all your ticks and can easily get your riled up.

Mark loves bitting your neck just to hear you moan. When you finally give in to him, he'll lay you down on the couch or bed and start pealing your clothes off to reveal your chest.

He's definitely the dominant person in bed and your not complaining, he'll get rough and pound hard enough were the bed starts rocking.

The sex maybe rough, but Mark isn't not big on insults. He refuses to degrade you and will only use sweet words.

If you’re struggling to take him in or taking long to adjust, he’ll whisper reassurances that you’re doing a good job while rubbing his hands on your back and thighs.

He prefers missionary, growling in your ear while his hands grip yours above your head.

Mark also loves watching your face while you bounce up and down his dick. He loves the expressions you make when he thrusts up into you when you least expect it.

Mark just likes to lay back and just watch you ride him, he loves the feeling of your thighs and ass in his hands.

He's a soft/mean Dom, it just depends on his mood. But no matter what he always makes sure your comfortable. He loves to take control in the bed but would never push you.

He loves the sounds you make. The moaning, the begging, everything.

Loves eating you out,your legs around his head. He loves your legs in general and loves leaving kisses on the insides of your thighs. He'd rather pleasure you for hours than receive.

He has big chocking kink, he won't be too rough about but he loves wrapping his fingers around your neck and feeling your pulse when he's ramming into you.

He love getting head. I feel like he’d like having you on your knees. Plus, feeling your lips around him pushes him closer to cumming in your mouth.

Bondeg kink, handcuffs, his ties, belts, he'll tie you up with anything if your comfortable with it.

There's also a tone of jealous sex. If he sees Alex shamelessly flirting with you expected to be tied to bed as fucks your brains out. If he sees Jackson touch you in a way thats reserved only for him you’re pinned against the wall.

There has been a couple of times Derek has walked in on you while you both are getting it on in one of the on-call rooms, it's safe to day Derek has lernd to knock.

“Mark, he literally saw it” you gasped from under mark.

He kissed your neck. “I was too busy to notice”

This man is amazing when it comes to aftercare. He knows exactly what you need. After your both cleaned up, he'll pull you to his chest to cuddle.

[theseinfernalangels]

Obvious - Aaric Graycastle

Aaric Graycastle x Marked!Reader

Synopsis: Aaric Graycastle knew exactly what to expect from Conscription Day – Or so he thought. There was nothing to be expected from the fiery executive officer who had seen right through him.

A/N: My first fic on this account! Super excited to start posting about my lovely Empyrean OCs. I’ll make a post explaining this further, but the OCs in my little ficverse will appear in second-person (for reader fics 🤭). This is the first encounter between Aaric and a reader who might know a *little* too much.

Contains spoilers for Iron Flame! Not enemies to lovers per se, but they definitely are NOT friends right now.

Crossing the Parapet had been the last thing on Aaric’s mind on Conscription Day. Sure, it was the “big event,” as he’d heard another cadet murmur right before bounding up the stairs to the tower – it decided who was barely capable of making it into Bagsiath. Honestly, Aaric had expected more of it. He strolled across it, easy as a summer breeze, and immediately went into formation.

     He’d barely watched his surroundings as he went across the bridge, his mind set on the unfortunate interaction he’d run straight into. Of course he had to see someone he knew – that someone being Violet Sorrengail. She’d stared at him like he was a fish out of water once he told her his name. Or, that is, his new name. The one he’d randomly come up with about a week beforehand.

     Aaric Graycastle. It was a simple name, unassuming enough. His middle name – surprisingly common. But…Graycastle. He almost cringed at the thought now. Was it too obvious? Graycastle. He used to live in a gray castle, dammit. Would anyone pick up on that? Would anyone look into his eyes a little too long and figure out that the quiet cadet was actually the youngest son of King Tauri who was currently missing? The fear of the conversations that would ensue given the discovery drowned out any other thoughts.

     He tried to shake the anxiety off. He’d be fine. He made it across the Parapet, and he’d beat the Gauntlet, and he’d make it through Threshing and graduate and fight like he should, like his father should. The reminder of his purpose here helped him steel himself, his face cool and his posture like that of a perfect soldier. That’s what he came here to become. If his father, so comfortable in his luxury that he couldn’t bear to fight the real fight, wouldn’t help his people in the war against the venin who were slowly destroying them, then he would – even if he had to lie to the entire college to do it.

     He got along with his squadmates fine, he assumed. Resting in the commons, he’d talked to some other First-Years. Names felt like a blur to him. Cleft. Sloane. Gwen. Roman. Too many for him to remember at once. Too many people who might discover something and rat him out. He lets out a faint sigh – and almost chokes on it once he watches you ram a knife into the table across from him, the loud bang noise effectively shutting up every First-Year and earning side-eyes from your fellow Second-Years. What was your name again? It was pretty, he remembered. Something floral. The patch on your uniform read Balaska.

     Ah, he remembered. You’re the section’s executive officer.

     “Alright,” you announce, your voice low but commandeering. “I know you’re probably fed up with the speeches and whatnot that you’re being force fed. Am I correct?”

     Murmurs from cadets around the room proved mutual agreement.

     “I thought so,” you say with a nod. “And I get it. It feels unnecessary and repetitive. But, you’re getting one last spiel before you head off to bed, because this is something you need to remember.”

     You pause. Aaric watches your gaze quickly flit over to the older cadets, as if you were asking for permission. One of them nods – Bodhi Durran, he recalls. The section leader.

     You clear your throat. “I want you to remember every face in this room. Remember the names of your squadmates. These are the people you’ll be around until you either die or graduate. These are the only people in the Quadrant who aren’t legally allowed to harm you in ways that matter.”

     That’s what the Wingleader had said earlier during the Presentation. Why are you repeating what they already know?

    “That being said,” you continue, “that does not mean you are one hundred percent safe within these walls. You will not always find friends here. You will not be expected to mourn these people. You won’t find any special treatment from anyone just for being here. You are cadets, not royalty.”

     Aaric nearly has a heart attack when you say that so pointedly – and has to fight not to flinch when you meet his gaze coldly for half of a moment. It feels like someone has dumped a bucket of ice water on him.

     You are cadets, not royalty.

     Skies above. 

     You know.

     “So, make friends while you can,” you finish, your tone turning casual – as if you hadn’t just stripped back every ounce of calm that Aaric had. “It’s not my intent to scare you into thinking that everyone here is an enemy. However, we’ve had too many incidents recently of squadmates turning on each other. Assassination attempts, permanent, disabling injuries, and other petty squabbles – If it’s happened to us, it may very well happen to you. This is your forewarning so you won’t be surprised if it happens.”

     One First-Year – Trevor, Aaric remembers – half-raises his hand in question. “So…Is the problem not being solved? Why are so many squadmates hurting each other if it’s illegal?”

     You regard him evenly. “We’re doing everything we can to cool it down. You’ll find that some people do not care what the Codex says, unfortunately. Violet, care to share?”

     Violet, Aaric decides, does not want to share. More than anything, it looks like she wants to strangle you – because she knows, too.

     She takes a deep breath in spite of herself. Looks like she has to share anyway. “Last year,” she starts, her voice quiet but steely, “After Threshing, I was almost killed by six unbonded cadets in my own bed. They were let in by a squadmate. I would have died if my dragons hadn’t stepped in.”

     More murmurs. Gods. What had Aaric gotten himself into?

     “Right,” you add. “So, moral of the story, sleep with one eye open. The person sitting next to you in Battle Brief helping you with your notes may very well be plotting to rip your arm out of your socket during sparring. Make friends while you can, but remember that you must protect yourself at all times. Sleep with a knife under your pillow, for all I care. Just don’t be surprised when people start dropping like flies.”

     The room is silent. That’s all it can be, after such a dread-inducing speech. Then, Bodhi grins and gives you a slow clap.

     “Thank you, Cadet Balaska, for giving such a comforting speech,” he drawls. “I’m sure you’ve really soothed their nerves for the time being.”

     Aaric begs to differ. He feels like he’s about to pass out.

     You shrug. “They need to be told the truth. Professors and Leadership won’t bother to do it themselves, so consider this a favor. I’d rather you all know what to expect than be disappointed when these things start to happen.”

     A favor. Aaric almost scoffs. You say you’re doing them all a favor as if they should be thankful for making them paranoid – for making him paranoid. Aaric was never one to frighten easily (save that for Halden, thank you very much), but he couldn’t help but be nervous for what could happen next. Were you going to turn him in? Did you want him dead? Was this whole thing a veiled threat under the guise of actually caring about the squad’s wellbeing? He couldn’t put his finger on it, and it was actually starting to piss him off a little.

     He forces himself to stand and blend in with the rest of his squadmates as they turn in for the night. You, he decides, are someone he’s going to avoid at all costs. Your eyes, piercing and icy, burn right through the little ruse that he’s carefully constructed to get him through Bagsiath. He can’t afford to have you as an enemy. He can tell just by the way you stand and how people look at you that you’re a force to be reckoned with, and respected for more than just your rank.

     He subtly turns to glance over at where you stand. You’re standing face-to-face with Violet, who’s whispering something harshly to you. If she weren’t in the commons, she looked like she was going to beat you into a pulp. You just shrugged and muttered something back – he catches the word obvious on your lips.

     Shit. Aaric turns and walks a little too fast back to the barracks. This was going to be way harder than he ever anticipated.

[1-800-local-slut]

Quick question, should I try writing for Invincible? If so, what would you guys like to see for different characters?

Mark Grayson x Black! Alien! Reader!

Mark Grayson who refuses to accept the part of him from space, with his girlfriend who is from a planet that sees all beauty in all lives.

(Mostly fluff, some smut!)

Rex 'Splode' Sloan x Black! Alien! Reader

Rex and the challenges that come with raising an alien baby while his wife visits her home planet

(Fluff, a lot of tom foolery but he's ultimately a good parent, smut flashbacks)

Samantha Eve Wilkins x Black! Human! Popstar! Reader

The entire world thinks you two are the best of friends. Little do they know it's far more than that.

(Fluff, just cute girl things, smut mentions)

[chicleeblair]

Uncomfortably Numb [12/?]||FFN

Rating: NC-17/Explicit

Pairings: Meredith Grey/Derek Shepherd, Lexie Grey/Mark Sloan

Meredith isn't the only Grey to make it home alive after the plane crash. How does Lexie's survival affect everyone else's recovery? With Mark gone and returning to the O.R. as a surgeon an unlikelihood in her uncertain future, can Lexie really say she's survived? AO3||FFN

[krisb5431]

🌱✨ "A New Dawn Amid the Ashes" ✨🌱

Hello, my name is Jaber, a 13-year-old from Gaza. My family and I once lived in peace, surrounded by laughter and dreams. But in an instant, everything changed 💔. Our home, the school I loved, and even some of the dearest members of my family were taken from us by war.

Now, all I have left is my mother, Maysaa, who suffers from a heart condition, and my siblings, who are my only remaining comfort. Every day, we struggle to rebuild what we’ve lost, searching for even a glimpse of hope amid the ruins 🕯️🌄.

I am sharing my story because I believe in the kindness of others. With your support, we could take the first steps toward a new beginning 🕊️. Any help, however small, could be the light that guides us out of this darkness. Thank you from the depths of my heart for any compassion you can offer ❤️🙏.

Sharing to spread the word 💓💓

[lowytavis]

the future king and his secret - Aaric Graycastle

Introduction:

Formal gatherings, endless ceremonies, and unbearably long speeches—there is nothing I despise more. 

Yet, ever since my father, King Tauri, passed away—and with my infuriating brother Halden meeting his own tragic end—the burden of the crown has fallen on me. 

"Camlaen Tauri," came the measured voice of Sir Higgins, my ever-dutiful bodyguard. He hesitated before correcting himself, "King Camlaen Tauri." 

His disapproving gaze lingered as I sighed. "Just call me Aaric." "If only it were that simple," he replied, clearing his throat. "I cannot simply change your birth name. However, if it pleases you, I could address you as Aaric Tauri—at least in private." 

Acceptable, but far from ideal. I merely offered him a curt nod in response. 

"Your Majesty, now that you have assumed your royal duties, it is time to arrange your betrothal. You have come of age, and the kingdom needs a queen." 

"Not yet, Higgins. But thank you," I muttered. "I have more pressing matters to attend to." 

No one could ever truly fulfill that role. No one but her. 

"These were your father's final instructions before his passing," Higgins reminded me, though his words were truly meant for my brother. "May Malek watch over them both." 

Blah, blah, blah. If there's one thing I cannot abide, it's the ceaseless prattle of Higgins, the ever-irritating chambermaid Lilian Weysler, or the insufferable kitchen matron, Madame Doublin. 

"I will arrange a banquet, King Tauri," Higgins continued. "The finest noble families will present themselves. If you wish to extend invitations beyond the aristocracy, you may provide Mademoiselle Weysler with a list. However, I strongly urge discretion—especially when considering the presence of the Tyrrish. Part 1:

—And Sloane Mairi, fiancée of Dain Aetos," I finished, letting Lilian complete the list. 

"My, my. That is quite the guest list," she remarked, glancing up at me. "Many of them are marked ones. Are you certain?" 

"Read it aloud, Lilian," I instructed. "I want to ensure that everyone important to me is invited. Perhaps they'll make the day a little more bearable." 

"Very well, Your Majesty. As requested." She cleared her throat. 

"Duke and Duchess Riorson. Sir Ridoc Gamlyn. Sir Sawyer and Lady Jesinia Henrick. Sir Bodhi Durran. Sir Garrick Tavis. Lady Imogen Cardulo. Sir Drake and Lady Catriona Cordella. Lady (Y/N) Siver. Sir Dain Aetos and Lady Sloane Mairi." 

"Correct. Pass this on to Higgins. My decision is final." I leaned back in my chair. "Prepare the large area behind the castle for the dragons and gryphons to land. Set up the guest rooms. Place the Duke of Tyrrendor and his wife near my chambers—along with Lady Siver. No discussions." 

As soon as Lilian left the room, I let out a heavy sigh, slumping in my seat. Was it really wise to invite the one person I had loved in secret—to a gathering where I was expected to choose a fiancée? Worse still... she had no idea how I felt. --- 

**Later** 

"Aaric! It's been forever!" I heard her voice before I saw her—before she came running toward me. "I've missed you so much, little one!" she laughed. 

Little one. 

My childhood nickname. Though now, I towered over her by a good thirty-five centimeters. 

"Hey, (Y/N)," was all I managed. I was so fucking nervous. We had written to each other regularly, but only by letter. She lived outside the castle walls, in a poorer district. I never saw her as poor, but she and her father, Randwyn, couldn't afford a place within the city large enough for their small bakery. As a child, I had loved our trips into town, when Higgins would take me to visit the Sivers' shop. We'd always buy my family's favorite pastries. 

"Don't be so shy now," she teased, her laughter like music I had longed to hear. She threw herself at me, pressing against my chest with all her strength. I held her even closer. "You're the little one now," I grinned, looking down at her. Her beautiful eyes sparkled in the sunlight. 

"I'll show you your room, (Y/N)." 

"No need, King," Higgins interjected, waddling toward us with Lilian in tow. "Lilian will take care of that." 

"No," I insisted. "I have things to discuss with my old friend." 

Before Higgins could argue, I grabbed (Y/N) and ushered her toward her room. The moment I opened the door, she gasped, her face lighting up with pure joy. "Oh, fucking hell! I've never had a bed this big—let alone a whole room of this size to myself!" 

She spun in place, taking it all in. Then, suddenly, she turned back to me, reaching into her bag. 

"Oh, almost forgot! Here!" She handed me a small box. 

"Please tell me there's Lohnin in there," I practically begged, already imagining the sweet pastry melting on my tongue. "Only the best for the best," she grinned. 

So, I did what any respectable king would do—I shoved the entire Lohnin into my mouth at once.

 "You're supposed to enjoy it, little one!" she laughed. "Slow down before you choke to death! You haven't even secured an heir yet!" She was joking, but there was something in her eyes—something warm. "I have so much to tell you, Aaric!" 

And just like that, it felt like childhood again. 

She pulled her hair into a messy bun and changed into her nightgown. 

I lay beside her on the pillow, and she pulled the blanket up to her chin. "Do you ever miss being a child?" she asked softly, turning toward me. 

We were so close. Too close. My breath hitched. 

"Of course," I murmured. "Life was simpler then. And... I wish there hadn't been this distance between us. I missed you, (Y/N)." 

She smiled and curled up against me. We had done this countless times before. Only now, I wasn't a boy anymore. And for the first time, I was terrified.

------------------------the next day----------------------

I don't think I've ever slept so well. 

As I slowly rolled over, the reason became immediately clear—I had fallen asleep in (Y/N)'s bed. 

"Well, look who's finally awake," she grinned, shifting in my arms and pressing herself gently against me. 

"Good morning, (Y/N)," I murmured, unable to stop my own smile. 

"Sorry, I must have dozed off."

 "Oh, I noticed," she laughed. "I was pouring my heart out, telling you all about my life, and suddenly—snoring. Right in my ear."

 "Hey, that wasn't planned! And I don't snore," I protested, pouting. (Y/N) just arched an eyebrow, and within seconds, we were both laughing uncontrollably.

---------------later-----------

"I'm so glad you all made it here!" I called out as my friends—my *real* friends, the only guests I had been allowed to invite myself—finally arrived. 

"Thank you for the *royal* invitation, Your Majesty," Xaden quipped with mock formality, earning a sharp punch to the shoulder from Violet. 

"Good to see you again, Aaric," Violet said, before glancing around the grand hall. Her expression twisted in barely concealed disgust. "It's been a while since I was here." 

Ridoc smirked. "What, thinking about Halden's lips again?" The crack landed him a solid punch from Xaden. Around us, everyone tried (and failed) to stifle their laughter. The thought of Violet and Halden—priceless. 

Almost as priceless as the look on Xaden's face. 

"May I introduce (Y/N)?" I announced, pushing her forward with a grin. 

"Childhood best friend, up for absolutely any nonsense."

"Hi, nice to meet you all," she said formally—shyly even—and then, to my absolute horror, she bowed. 

"(Y/N), you don't have to bow," I groaned. "Besides, give Ridoc ten seconds, and he'll prove to you that just because you weren't raised in the castle doesn't make you any less refined or valuable." 

And right on cue— "Well, cutie," Ridoc purred, stepping far too close to (Y/N) with the world's ugliest grin. "Why don't you show me where you sleep? Y'know... so I know where to go later?"

 "RIDOC!" Violet and Sloane shrieked in unison, both slapping him so hard on the shoulder he actually yelped. 

"Okay, okay! Gods, if you lot keep hitting me, my whole arm's going to bruise!" he whined. 

Idiots. 

My idiots. 

How I had missed them. 

-----------later-----------

"Ladies and gentlemen, King Camlaen Tauri!" Higgins' grating voice rang out through the heavy stone doors as the guards at my sides pushed them open. 

How I *hated* being the center of attention. I always had. I preferred working in the shadows—smarter than any Tauri before me, though I'd never say that out loud. As I strode into the grand hall, my eyes instinctively searched the crowd. 

And then—I found her.

(Y/N).

 Her hair was woven into an elegant braid, soft tendrils framing her face. Her cheeks were faintly flushed, and that deep blue gown hugged her form far too perfectly. She was the most beautiful person in the world. And standing next to her? Fucking Gamlyn.

I forced my attention back to the proceedings. 

"Your Highness, we will now begin the presentation of the candidates," Higgins droned on. 

"Lady Lader," he announced. Beautiful, but far too old. 

"Princess Doherty." Her crooked smile already pissed me off. 

"Lady Melin and Lady Sassy Cortl." Twins. Absolutely not. "Lady Pommel." But I had stopped listening. 

Because across the hall, Ridoc was definitely standing too close to (Y/N). 

"Sir Gamlyn!" I called out, louder than intended. The hall fell silent, Higgins shifting uneasily beside me. 

"Your Highness," he muttered under his breath, "please don't do anything rash." 

Too fucking late. 

I already knew *exactly* what the fuck I had to do. 

"Sir Gamlyn," I continued, keeping my voice measured, "would you care to introduce me to your escort?" 

Silence. 

All eyes turned to Ridoc and (Y/N) as they hesitantly approached the throne. 

Ridoc opened his mouth, hesitated—because of course, he didn't even know her name. 

Before he could embarrass himself further, (Y/N) stepped forward. 

"Lady Siver," she said smoothly, grinning up at me. 

"A pleasure to meet you," I replied, taking her hand—and pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to her knuckles. 

She laughed, and I felt the collective gasp ripple through the hall. The nobility looked absolutely scandalized. I had undoubtedly made more enemies than friends tonight. And I didn't care one bit.

------------later----------

The music started, and nobles spilled onto the dance floor. I turned to (Y/N). 

"Would you care to dance?" I asked, offering my hand. 

"Oh?" she teased, a knowing smile playing at her lips. "You have time for someone like me, Your Highness? Ridoc already asked me as an alternative, you know." 

And that, my dear, was EXACTLY what I COULD NOT allow. 

PART 2 UPLOADED!

I took some time and completely remodeled and rewrote the first part of this fanfiction. I hope you like the updated version as much as I do. Warnings for future chapters: mention of rape, forced marriage, sex and violence