#THIS BOTHERED ME THE FIRST TIME I PLAYED IT AND IT BOTHERS ME NOW

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 12: The One Where We Start Laying the Yellow Brick Road to Italy

I realized the other day that, even though I like to bounce around from place to place in the Lukola timeline, I probably needed to start tightening things up on the ship if I ever wanted to get to the end of the story. And, yes, dammit, this story better have a finale at some point because there’s nothing more annoying than an open-ended ending, particularly in the romance genre.

Today we’re going to take a quick jaunt over to Italy because –

NO! Not because Luke is allegedly filming there. If you’re into real-time stalking, you’re in the wrong blog. But, I’m sure there’s a Discord for that.

It’s because I’ve had several people ask for my opinion about the change in behavior between Luke and Nicola during their Day 1 interviews there. Wait – people are interested in my thoughts? Wow, that’s actually kind of nice. Thank you! Okay, back to what I was saying –

Was there a change in behavior when Luke and Nicola reached Italy? Yeah, actually, there kind of was.

By May 9, we had been gifted with a slew of material from Luke, Nicola, and the Bridgerton cast and, I must admit, those early interviews are some of the most entertaining of the tour. In the very beginning, Nicola appeared as the utmost professional – charming, intelligent, and witty at the right moments – and Luke played her likeable counterpart to “Book Colin” perfection – bouncing between being awkwardly boyish and wickedly roguish, all while looking at Nicola like she had just served him homemade peanut butter crumble.

The two of them together, playing off each other, in my opinion, was better than Bridgerton Season 3 (you cannot beat the World Tour being 99% Luke and Nicola, with only a few random side characters taking up screentime). There was some major “Electric Love” radiating from those two throughout the tour, but it seemed very much heightened in the beginning (probably because they hadn’t yet answered the same question 67 times). By the way, if you haven’t heard that song by Børns, go have a listen. It will, at the very least – hopefully – put you in an upbeat mood for the day.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes – was there a change in behavior between Luke and Nicola when they reached Italy?

Absolutely.

Do I know why?

Absolutely not.

Perhaps Luke was bent because someone spilled his coffee, or Nicola was upset because her stylist made her to wear that little silver bow in her hair. In my opinion, the most intriguing part of Day 1 of the Italy press junket was that Luke and Nicola struggled with answering the question, “What is love?” I swear they both babbled on like two kids in debate class who hadn’t bothered to read the material given to them before taking their respective podiums. They finally seemed to settle on Luke’s “Maybe it’s, like, connection.” Well, they seemed to be missing the “connection” that day.

Honestly, no one can explain their “don’t stand so close to me” vibe during those first day interviews except Luke and Nicola. But, we can at least have some fun and speculate about it with a bird’s eye view. At this point, you should know that I love spreading the puzzle pieces out and seeing how they might all connect. Most people – when putting a puzzle together – start with the side pieces, right? You’ll get my joke in a moment (I hope).

In March 2024 – I don’t know the specific date because my timeline is rather murky going back that far (I was unaware Lukola even existed!) – Luke traveled to Los Angeles for a photo spread with InStyle magazine. I’ve heard two versions of this story. The first being that Luke traveled to Los Angeles with Antonia alone; the second being that he traveled to Los Angeles with his friend group, which included Antonia. I couldn’t tell you which is true, and it really doesn’t matter because it doesn’t necessarily add or take away from today’s story.

Before I get started, I wanted to give a “hurrah” to The-One-Whose-Group-Chat-Fills-in-Lots-of-Missing-Bits-for-Me-Including-the-Part-Where-Video-Footage-of-Antonia-in-Los-Angeles-Seemed-to-Indicate-a-Celebrity-Was-Not-the-Videographer-and-There-Were-So-Many-British-Accents-in-the-Background-One-Would-Fancy-a-Guess-She-was-Traveling-with-a-Group.

Moving along…

On April 7, 2024, Antonia posted a series of photographs and clips to her Instagram grid indicating she had been in Los Angeles, including one where she was laying on a blanket in front of the Griffith Observatory and one where she was sitting at a table marked with the number “95.” On April 14, she posted a second set of photographs, tagging her location as Beverly Hills, California and using “End of Beginning” as her audio (yes, I side-eyed this choice of music so don’t feel bad if you did as well). The second photo dump included her lounging on a rooftop.

I’m not going to delve into posts made by Luke and Nicola during that timeframe. I mean, I’m sure Nicola’s comment, “’Friends’…sure Jan,” on Luke’s April 11 reshared post about Bridgerton Season 3 was only meant to be applicable to Polin. And, if Luke wanted to use yellow and black hearts to represent the colors Nicola and he were wearing in his April 12 post, that’s cool, too. And, I am definitely not going to speculate on Nicola’s April 15 post (for Big Mood) that Luke liked, and she captioned, “I will bite off anything that dangles.”

By April 21, Luke and Nicola were in Australia at the World Premiere of Bridgerton. I am only going to provide a quick overview of Australia instead of a full-fledged recital because, at some point, I will almost certainly dedicate an entry to this country. Let’s start with Luke pulling off the hottest walk-up in Netflix human history (I mean, have you watched it in slow motion?). Then, we had the hard launch of the handholding business (because why again?). And, we had Luke tripping over his words, “We’re very, like, giving…I’m not talking about those scenes…” Oh, and Nicola telling an interviewer that, “[y]ou can’t keep a good girl down,” and, in response, Luke’s lips curling into a wicked-ass Cheshire cat's. We had them in the garden, with Nicola bending down to hug Luke after she had scratched/hit/petted his head. Perhaps I should not mention the possibility of a man’s shirt being visible on a bed behind Nicola (I said possibility not that it was). And, Nicola telling Luke, “You’re the funnier one,” when he was concerned that perhaps Benedict was funnier than Colin. Then we had the “Nicola-in-the-green-dress” day where, as they were going down the steps, Luke seemed to instinctively reach for Nicola’s hand, but she played it cool and took his arm instead. Oh, and that entire “green dress” day in general (I mean, there was so much shit going on that day). And, best we do not forget Nicola saying, “the best foundation for love is friendship,” which mirrored the bracelet “someone…in Australia” gave Luke that read, “Do you believe the best foundation for love is friendship?” Because that’s not suspicious at all. Alright, let’s get the fuck out of Australia – but not before I mention Nicola commenting on Luke’s April 27 Instagram post with “Ready for the next?” and Luke replying, “Absolutely.” Yeah, yeah, yeah, their shenanigans in Australia expanded the USS Lukola tenfold.

Oh, also, let me throw this in here because, if you are a “ring truther,” this fact plays a significant role in the Lukola timeline. If you do not know what a “ring truther” is, that’s perfectly fine. You can catch up by reading Entry 6 (The One Where I Explained the Claddagh Ring to My Dad) of my blog. I mentioned in Entry 6 that some Lukola sleuths have stated the metadata they pulled from the sketches of the Claddagh ring uploaded by Chupi indicate they were done as early as April 26. In other words, it means the Claddagh was likely commissioned between Australia and Italy. In fact, if we are to believe Chupi when it said it took four weeks to make the ring, then it had to have been commissioned by May 9, 2024, at the latest. Oh, lookie there, that’s Day 1 of the Italy interviews.

But, before we get to May 9, let’s pause on April 29. That was the day Luke’s InStyle spread was published – yes, the one I mentioned earlier. Luke has pictures from this photoshoot still on his Instagram grid – in fact, Nicola commented, “Yess dude!!” on them – but those aren’t the pictures I want to talk about. No, I want to talk about the pictures InStyle posted on its Instagram grid that day. These photographs came directly from Luke, which was confirmed by the InStyle article when it said, “…the actor delighted the InStyle team by delivering the polaroid photos he’d taken for this story tucked oh-so-carefully in a little brown bag for safekeeping.” The pictures Luke provided, among others, included one where he was laying on a blanket in front of the Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles; one where he was sitting at a table marked with the number “95;” and one where he is sitting in a lounge chair on a rooftop. If you want to see the pictures, InStyle still has them available – you just need to go through hundreds of posts to find them. Luke did not like this InStyle post, which was kind of odd because he was tagged in it, and they were reportedly his pictures.

Why did these InStyle polaroids seem so familiar?

Oh, that’s right, because they were.

Remember that April 7 post of Antonia’s I mentioned a bit ago? Yeah, the one where Antonia posted a bunch of random pictures from Los Angeles and – only after InStyle posted Luke’s polaroids – fans realized Antonia had preemptively posted her version of some of Luke’s polaroids.

I am not going to speculate too much about these pictures or their implications in this blog post, but these pictures may resurface in future posts because I find myself side-eyeing the fact they even exist. And, we should probably accept that Luke was aware of them before his pictures came out on April 29 because he threw a like on Antonia’s April 7 post. Could it have been a “blind” like? Sure, I guess, but the logical side of my brain says he probably looked through them at the time she posted. Let’s not worry too much about it right now, though.

After trying to write out my “general” opinion about the pictures several times, I finally decided that the best way I could articulate my thoughts was through the conversation I had with my father. Yes, Dear Dad returns again for another insightful Q&A.

I started by showing Luke and Antonia’s three “matchy” pictures to my dad and then asked him to compare them. To be clear, the pictures were their respective Griffith Observatory, Table 95, and Rooftop Lounging pictures.

Me: “So what do you think?”

Dad: “About what?”

Me: “Ugh! Why did Antonia take those pictures?”

Dad: “Well, to show she’s part of the ‘in’ crowd. The only reason I can see them being taken is if she was going to put them on the Internet.”

Me: “Uhh, as a matter of fact, she did put them on the Internet! Approximately three weeks before Luke’s were published.”

Dad: “See! I’m not as dumb as you think.”

Me: “Whatever. So, you really believe that? She took them to show people that she was, like, there?”

Dad: “Yeah. Why else would she take them? They’re not the kind of photos you’d take normally. What’s she going to do, put them in an album and show her friends in five years and say, ‘Look, I sat in Luke’s chair?’ Who does that? Nobody. Plus, Luke’s pictures look like they were taken with a polaroid camera and Antonia took hers with, I guess, a phone. Why use two different cameras? Again, it doesn’t make sense. Seems to me like she knew what pictures he was taking, and she was trying to copy them so she could put them on the Internet.”

Thanks, Dad.

You do not have to accept my father’s thoughts on the photographs. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. However, I think we can meet in the middle and opine that, at a minimum, Antonia’s pictures caused the weak Lukolas to jump overboard; at most, they gave some people stalker vibes; and somewhere in between, they introduced Antonia's negative influence over the fandom and what some may consider trolling behavior (even if it wasn’t recognized then).

Now, before we land in Italy on May 9, let’s summarize what has happened during the preceding two months.

First, we had Luke traveling to Los Angeles in March with Antonia, either alone or as part of a friend group. Luke had pictures of himself taken while there.

Second, we had Antonia posting pictures in early April that would be linked directly to Luke’s pictures by the end of the month.

Third, throughout the month of April, we had Luke and Nicola traveling together for the World Tour. We have all seen these interviews, and we have all formed independent opinions about them.

Fourth, based on Chupi’s own words, we know the Claddagh ring must have been commissioned no later than May 9.

Okay, now we’ve reached May 9, Day 1 of the Italy press junket.

Besides the press interviews, what happened on that day?

Well, Antonia reposted Luke singing Coldplay’s “Yellow” to her TikTok account.

Uhh… Huh. Interesting.

I mean, it’s possible that this was just a coincidence and she just liked Luke’s version of it. Or, it’s possible Antonia knew that “Yellow” was the Polin wedding song and she anticipated trolling Nicola and/or the fandom with it. But, if we believe she knew “Yellow” was the Polin wedding song, that means either Luke told her, or someone with that knowledge told her (i.e., someone from Luke’s team or family/friend group). We also know that Luke mentioned this song in the May 16, 2022 Netflix Tudum article when Nicola and he were asked about their song choices for Season 3. Luke stated his frontrunner was “Yellow” by Coldplay “because of Penelope’s dresses.” Regardless of why Antonia posted the song, I find it hard to imagine Netflix, Bridgerton, Shondaland, Nicola, or Luke were too impressed by Antonia resharing it on TikTok. I mean, at this point, Netflix & Co. would surely have been aware that Antonia’s “copycat post” went over with the fandom like a wet blanket in December in Canada. I imagine some questions were being asked and Luke may very well have received a hand slap from Corporate – and maybe even from Nicola.

But, that’s not the only thing that happened on May 9.

Luke posted his Homme magazine spread to his Instagram grid on that day, too. He captioned the post, “Chatting through all things S3 with @hommeplusmag [o]ut next week x.” Nicola commented, “Yessss,” and Luke tagged his post with the location of Hackney, London. That last part – about Luke tagging the location in Hackney – apparently sent the fandom into a deep-dive of…Nicola’s backyard. Why? Because Nicola lives in Hackney (Nicola herself confirmed she lived in Hackney in a March 18, 2024 interview with Derry Now), and rumors started to circulate that Luke’s pictures were taken at her home.

Hmm, I didn’t realize May 9 was such a busy day, did you?

So, which came first – the chicken or the egg? Did Antonia repost “Yellow” to her TikTok before Luke posted his Homme in Hackney images to Instagram, or vice versa? I’m sure someone out there has this information. The answer might help shine some light as to why Luke and Nicola seemed “off” in the early part of their Day 1 Italy interviews. But, then again, does the order really matter? Regardless of who posted first, it would seem to me that “Yellow” was a very possible culprit for the different energy on set that day.

That, or Luke really was peeved over someone spilling his coffee.

[p0orbaby]

Why Do I Give You the Worst of Me (1)

summary: love and bad decisions collide as you struggle to balance a tour and a relationship that’s spiraling out of control

warnings: 18+ adult themes throughout

a/n: another series i’m hoping i don’t regret committing myself to… not sure how many parts it’ll be, i don’t plan anything

word count: 3.1k

-

You wake up face-first on a sofa that smells like cigarettes, spilled beer, and faintly, vomit. Not yours, you think. The synthetic fabric is scratchy against your cheek, and when you open your eyes, it takes a moment to realise it’s morning—sunlight cutting through the cracked blinds, striping the floor with dusty light. The sofa is mustard yellow, ugly in a deliberate, trying-too-hard-to-be-retro way. It doesn’t belong to you. Nothing in this flat belongs to you.

There’s a girl in the kitchen, humming softly to herself as she pours cereal into a bowl. You don’t know her name, but you know she wears Chanel No. 5 because it’s all you could smell last night when she leaned too close, whispering something you didn’t quite catch. Her hair’s a mess now—like spun gold caught in a tangle of barbed wire—but her makeup is still pristine. She’s the kind who sets her eyeliner with setting spray before going out, even if it’s just to the pub. You admire the commitment, if not the execution.

Your head throbs—a deep, insistent ache behind your eyes that reminds you of last night in bits and pieces: the gig (decent, though the sound guy fucked up your monitor levels), the afterparty (loud, sweaty, a haze of bodies and smoke), the lines of coke on a chipped coffee table, the bartender who kept giving you free shots because he recognised you from that NME interview last month. At some point, someone tried to fight you, though you’re not sure why. You vaguely remember smashing a bottle of tequila against a wall and laughing as glass shards rained down like confetti.

You roll onto your back and stare at the ceiling, which is peeling in a way that suggests years of neglect, a building held together more by stubbornness than actual structural integrity. There’s a stain in the corner that looks suspiciously like mould, but you don’t care enough to investigate. The flat isn’t yours, after all. You were invited here by someone whose name escapes you now—a bassist from another band, or maybe it was their girlfriend? They’re gone this morning, anyway, leaving behind only the detritus of a night well-lived: empty bottles, crushed cigarette packets, a single black stiletto abandoned near the door like a fairy-tale gone wrong.

You light a cigarette, despite the pounding in your head and the fact that you’re pretty sure it’s technically illegal to smoke indoors here. The girl in the kitchen glances at you but doesn’t say anything. You’re not sure if she’s annoyed or indifferent; you don’t care. The smoke curls lazily toward the ceiling, and for a moment, you let yourself enjoy the quiet. Mornings like this are rare—where everything is still and soft, where the chaos of your life is temporarily held at bay by the thin walls of someone else’s flat.

Your bass is propped up against the armchair, scratched and battered in a way that tells a story if you care to look closely enough. It’s a Fender Precision, black with a white pickguard, the same model Sid Vicious used to play—not that you’d ever admit that’s why you bought it. The neck has a gouge near the third fret from when you threw it at a sound tech who deserved it (and missed). The strap is leather, worn smooth where it rests on your shoulder, and the bridge still has flecks of blood from the time you played so hard your fingers split open mid-song. You keep meaning to clean it, but you never do.

You check your phone, which is cracked and sticky with something you don’t want to identify. No new messages, except for a text from your drummer that reads: “u alive?” You don’t bother replying.

-

You’ve been in the band for five years now, though it feels longer. It started as a joke—a group of friends fucking around in someone’s garage, trying to see who could play the loudest, the fastest, the most obnoxious. Somewhere along the way, it became serious. There was a DIY EP, recorded in one manic weekend on borrowed gear, and a string of gigs in dingy pubs where the audiences were more interested in drinking than listening. Then came the break—a slot supporting a bigger band, one of those industry darlings who’d already started to hate themselves for selling out. The kind of band that wears matching outfits ironically, even though everyone knows it’s not ironic at all.

Now, you play sold-out shows to crowds who scream your lyrics back at you, though most of them probably couldn’t name your second album. Your face has been on the cover of Kerrang! twice, though you didn’t bother reading the articles. You hate interviews, but you do them anyway because your manager insists. You’re better at the photoshoots—smirking at the camera in a way that suggests you don’t care (you do).

The band is your life, though you wouldn’t call it that. Calling it your life makes it sound like you have some sort of plan, and you don’t. You’re just here, playing gigs and writing songs and doing whatever it takes to keep the wheels from falling off.

Your bandmates are a mixed bag of personalities, each one a walking caricature in their own way. There’s Matt, the drummer, who swears he’s been abducted by aliens and won’t shut up about it. Alex, the lead guitarist, is constantly high and insists on bringing his cat on tour, which you find deeply annoying. And then there’s Holly, the singer, who somehow manages to be both the most chaotic and the most responsible member of the group. She’s the one who organises rehearsals, books the studio time, and keeps you all from self-destructing entirely. You love her for it, even if you’d never say it out loud.

The girl in the kitchen finishes her cereal, rinses the bowl, and leaves without saying goodbye. You watch her go, not because you care but because there’s nothing else to do. When the door slams shut, the flat feels even smaller, like the walls are pressing in on you. You stub out your cigarette, grab your bass, and leave too.

-

Outside, London is already alive, though you wouldn’t call it awake. The streets are sticky from last night—spilled pints and kebab wrappers crushed into the pavement, cigarette butts floating in puddles of something that smells suspiciously like piss. The air has that distinct urban flavour: exhaust fumes mingling with fryer grease and the faint tang of wet concrete. You pull your leather jacket tighter around you, not because it’s cold (it is), but because it completes the look.

The jacket is vintage—or at least you tell people it is. In reality, you bought it at a high-street shop three years ago, and it’s held up surprisingly well, considering the abuse it’s endured. The lining is torn, the cuffs are frayed, and there’s a mysterious stain on the back you can’t quite place. But it’s yours, and it feels like armour. The boots, on the other hand, are real vintage: a pair of Dr Martens from the ‘90s you found in a thrift shop in Brighton. They’re scuffed to hell, and the left one squeaks when you walk, but you refuse to replace them because they’re authentic.

You head toward the Tube station, your bass slung over one shoulder like a soldier carrying a rifle. People stare, but only briefly. In London, no one has the energy to care for long. The morning commuters are a mix of suits and students, their faces blank, their eyes glazed over as they clutch takeaway coffees in one hand and their phones in the other. You feel out of place but also weirdly superior, like you’ve cracked some code they haven’t even realised exists yet.

You hop on the Northern line, ignoring the signs that politely request passengers to “refrain from eating or drinking.” You’re not eating or drinking, but you do pull out a cigarette, which is arguably worse. It’s a roll-up, so you convince yourself it doesn’t count. An old woman glares at you, clutching her handbag like she thinks you’re about to mug her. You offer her a crooked smile, which she does not return, and you put the cigarette back in your pocket because she reminds you of your nan.

The train screeches into motion, and you pull out your phone. The lock screen is a photo of your bass, which says a lot about you. There are a few notifications—mostly spam emails and an unread message from Holly: Rehearsal at 2. Don’t be late, dickhead.

You glance at the time. 11:47 a.m. Plenty of time.

-

The rehearsal space is in Camden, a dingy basement that smells of mildew and unwashed socks. The walls are lined with egg cartons painted black in a half-hearted attempt at soundproofing, and the floor is sticky for reasons you’d rather not think about. The room has seen better days—probably in the ‘80s, when it was still a nightclub and not a haven for struggling musicians. There’s a single fluorescent bulb overhead that flickers ominously, and a space heater in the corner that’s never worked.

Holly is already there when you arrive, tuning her guitar with the precision of someone who takes this far more seriously than you do. She’s wearing a denim jacket covered in patches for bands you’ve never heard of, her hair tied back in a messy ponytail. She looks up as you walk in, her expression equal parts exasperation and relief.

“Christ, you smell like an ashtray,” she says, wrinkling her nose.

“It’s called branding,” you reply, dropping your bass onto the floor with a thud.

Matt and Alex show up ten minutes later, looking even worse than you do. Matt has the kind of face that always looks slightly hungover, even when he’s not, and Alex is wearing the same shirt he wore yesterday, now with an impressive new stain across the front.

The rehearsal starts late, as it always does, and quickly descends into chaos. Matt insists on playing a drum solo during every song, despite the fact that no one asked for it. Alex keeps stopping mid-riff to check his phone, claiming he’s “waiting for an important call,” though everyone knows it’s just his dealer. Holly shouts at both of them until her voice cracks, then turns her frustration on you for being “completely fucking useless.” You take it in stride, plucking random notes on your bass and pretending to care.

-

At some point, Holly storms out, leaving the three of you to your own devices. Matt immediately pulls out a joint, which Alex lights with a lighter shaped like a naked woman. You lean back against the wall, your bass resting against your thigh, and watch as they argue over which fast-food place to hit up after rehearsal.

“McDonald’s is closer,” Alex says, taking a drag.

“But KFC’s got the gravy,” Matt counters, waving his arms for emphasis.

“It’s not even real gravy,” Alex snaps.

“None of it’s real,” you interject, flicking ash onto the floor. “We’re all just cogs in the capitalist machine.”

They stare at you for a moment, then go back to arguing.

-

By the time rehearsal ends, it’s dark outside. You pack up your gear, ignoring Holly’s death glare as she reminds you for the millionth time that you need to take this more seriously. You nod, mumble something about “artistic integrity,” and leave before she can yell at you again.

Back on the street, the air is crisp, the kind of cold that bites at your skin and makes you wish you’d brought a scarf. You light another cigarette, even though you’ve already smoked half a pack today, and head toward the pub.

The pub is your sanctuary, a place where time slows down and the only thing that matters is the next round. It’s a dive, the kind of place where the carpet sticks to your shoes and the jukebox is permanently stuck on a rotation of The Clash and The Smiths. You know the bartender by name, though you’re not sure if he knows yours.

You order a pint and settle into a corner booth, your bass case propped up beside you. The first sip is like a warm hug, washing away the stress of the day. You’re halfway through your second pint when you see her.

-

You don’t notice her at first. Not properly. She’s part of the blur—the dim bar lights catching on glasses, the low hum of half-drunken conversation, the vague sense that you’ve been here before even if you haven’t. She’s leaning against the counter, waiting for her drink, and it’s not until the bartender—a man whose name might be Pete but who you’re pretty sure is just “Oi, mate” to everyone who comes in—hands her a gin and tonic that you actually see her.

And it’s a gin and tonic. Not a lager, not a rum and coke, not something ironic like a snakebite or one of those craft beers with names like Hops and Robbers. It’s a G&T, clean and crisp, with a slice of lime balanced on the rim like it’s posing for a stock photo. The glass is crystal clear, and so are her nails—short, practical, painted the sort of soft pink that suggests she doesn’t chew them during stressful moments (unlike you). She takes the drink with both hands, like she’s steadying herself, and there’s something about that—the deliberateness of it—that hooks you.

You tell yourself you’re just looking because she’s there. Because it’s either her or the guy at the next table who’s been droning on about Bitcoin for twenty minutes straight. But it’s more than that. There’s a stillness to her, an odd kind of clarity that doesn’t fit in a place like this, like she’s wandered in from a parallel universe.

She turns slightly, and you catch her profile: sharp nose, strong jawline, cheekbones that could cut glass but probably wouldn’t because she seems far too polite. Her hair is blonde—not platinum, not peroxide, but the kind of natural gold that makes you think of expensive shampoo and childhood summers. It’s tied back loosely, wisps framing her face in a way that seems accidental but probably isn’t.

She’s not wearing makeup. Or maybe she is, but it’s the invisible kind—the kind that takes forty-five minutes to apply but looks like you’ve just rolled out of bed looking flawless. Her jumper is navy, oversized enough to suggest she might have nicked it from someone else’s wardrobe, paired with jeans that sit perfectly at her hips without being skinny. On her feet are white trainers—clean, like freshly ironed bedsheets—Adidas, the classic three stripes in black, laces tied neatly, no fraying ends.

You’re staring. You know you are. But she hasn’t noticed, so it doesn’t count.

The bartender mutters something to her, and she laughs. Not the loud, performative laugh you hear from most people in bars, but something softer, like it’s meant for her and her alone. The sound is so out of place in this dingy pub that it feels almost sacrilegious, like someone’s brought a cathedral choir to sing in a nightclub.

You tell yourself to look away. You don’t.

Instead, you light a cigarette, even though the pub is strictly non-smoking. You do it for the aesthetic, the same way you do most things. There’s a half-empty pint in front of you—lager, flat and warm, probably with someone else’s fingerprints on the glass—but you take a sip anyway, because what else are you going to do?

She turns then, her gaze sweeping the room, and you’re caught like a deer in headlights. For a second, you think she’s looking at you, but she’s not. She’s looking past you, at the dartboard on the wall behind your head. Her expression is curious, like she’s trying to figure out why anyone would bother playing darts in a place like this.

Then her eyes meet yours, and the world tilts.

It’s not love at first sight, not really. Love at first sight is for Disney films and Hallmark cards and people who shop at Waitrose without looking at the prices. This is something else. Recognition, maybe. Like you’ve seen her before in a dream or a half-remembered story someone told you once. Like you’ve spent your whole life waiting for this moment without knowing it.

She holds your gaze for a second longer than is polite. Then she looks away, back at her gin and tonic, and you realise you’ve been holding your breath.

-

You don’t approach her right away. That would be too obvious, too predictable. Instead, you wait, watching her out of the corner of your eye while pretending to scroll through your phone. It’s a shitty phone, cracked and outdated, but you’ve never bothered upgrading because you secretly enjoy the low expectations it sets. No one looks at you and expects success when your phone screen is held together with Sellotape.

She moves to a table in the corner, near the radiator, and sits down alone. No book, no laptop, no visible excuse to be here other than the gin and tonic in her hand. She sips it slowly, methodically, like she’s savouring it. Like she’s savouring this.

You wonder what her story is.

Is she waiting for someone? A friend, a boyfriend, a clandestine meeting with a lover? Or is she just one of those people who can sit alone in public without feeling like a target? You’ve never understood that kind of confidence—the kind that lets you exist without an audience, without a role to play.

You take another sip of your pint, then decide, fuck it.

You stand, grab your bass (because leaving it behind would feel like abandoning a child), and make your way across the room. Your boots squeak against the sticky floor, and you curse them under your breath. She looks up as you approach, her expression unreadable.

“Mind if I join you?” you ask, gesturing vaguely at the empty chair across from her.

She hesitates, just for a moment, then nods.

“Sure.”

Her voice is soft, but not shy. Measured. Like she’s weighing every word before she says it.

You sit, placing your bass case carefully against the table leg. For a moment, neither of you speaks. You’re not sure what to say, and she seems content to let the silence stretch. It’s not uncomfortable, exactly, but it’s not easy, either.

Finally, she breaks it.

“You’re in a band,” she says, nodding toward the bass. It’s not a question.

You smile. “Yeah. What gave it away?”

She raises an eyebrow, and you realise it’s a stupid question.

“What’s the band called?”

You tell her, and she nods, like she’s vaguely heard of it but couldn’t name a single song.

“I’m Alessia,” she says, holding out her hand. Her grip is firm, her skin warm.

“Nice to meet you,” you reply, and for the first time in a long time, you actually mean it.

[babydollisdead]

AGAPE - JINX X READER

contains: fluff, g/n reader, really short, no proofread

warnings: none

summary: you help jinx fall asleep.

A/N: This is my first time ever writing one of these!! I hope you enjoy. Sorry if she seems a little out of character, I’ll write a better one soon lolz.

“Jinx..?” You called softly from the couch in her.. “room.” She had been sitting at her desk for hours now, and all you could hear was mumbled curses and what sounded like power tools every so often. And the occasional spray paint can, of course.

When you didn’t get an answer, you huffed and rolled your eyes. She had said she’d be done a while ago. You trot closer to her, rubbing your sleepy eyes. But as soon as you see her hunched over form, you know something’s wrong.

Her shoulders are tense, and the way her hair is frizzy around her braids shows she’s been tugging at it. She fiddles around with some odd thing she’s creating, her nimble fingers making it look effortless.

“God dammit..” She mumbled, a small groan leaving her lips. You step closer slowly, tapping her shoulder. She slowly glanced up, a tired look on her face.

“You know, you said you’d be done a while ago.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest. She rolls her eyes and smirks a little. “Got carried away. Sorry, toots.”

She goes to look back down at her.. well, whatever the hell she was making, and you quickly stop her.

“C’mon, Jinx. It’s late.” You give her a bit of a look, which earns a small groan from her. “You always are bothering me..” She huffs out as she stands up from her chair. You know it came from a place of love.

You were really one of the only people she trusted these days. Where everyone else failed, you seemed to not. It was almost fascinating to her. Jinx had gone so long keeping everyone at a distance, safe for the few she was close with.

But something about you.. just made her love you. She did kinda hate it. She’d say it was because you turned her into a lame sap, but deep down it’s because she’s scared.

Loving something meant you now have something to lose. And that was never a good thing.

She stretched, a few bones cracking. You smiled a little at how sleepy she seemed. “Those energy drinks ain’t working anymore, huh?” You teased, tugging lightly on her arm towards the couch. “I need to inject it into my veins.” She whined and you chuckled lightly.

You plopped down against the couch and she followed, flopping down right on top of you. A small sigh left her lips, and you could feel the tension leave her body. As if on cue, you rested a hand in her hair, running it over the blue braids.

“You ever gonna cut all this hair?” You spoke softly, watching as she cuddled into you. She shrugged. “I dunno. I think it’s part of my whole.. persona now.” She grinned and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“If you ever want to, i’ll help. Make it look all nice and not choppy.” You suggested. Her chin was resting on your chest. She gazed into your eyes for a moment, and it was a bit intimidating.

The way her eyes gleamed pink, almost blowing. You’d seen those eyes hold all different kinds of emotions, and still the intensity of them never failed to make you shiver.

Jinx then suddenly pressed a bunch of kisses to your face, and you squeaked before giggling. “W-what are you doing?” You spoke through giggles. She pulled away, a smug look on her face before she settled back down onto you. You could only imagine how dazed you look, all goofy and smitten with a bunch of dark kiss marks on your face.

“Just wanted to kiss you.” She hummed out, closing her eyes as she buried her face in her arms. Something she always did when she slept. You’d know. You spent so many nights just watching her as she slept peacefully.

You snorted. “God, you’re such a sap.” You spoke, continuing to play with her blue locks. “Your fault.” She retorted. A small smile remained on your lips as you sighed and cuddled close to her.

“Goodnight, Jinx.” You whispered softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She didn’t say anything, but you did hear her huff softly, and she cuddled closer into you.

Actions always speak louder than words.

[writingwithciara]

could be -jack hughes-

summary: y/n and jack are as inseparable as real best friends should be. so much so that even though they're not dating, she is considered a 'wag' anyway

word count: 4.6k

pairing: jack hughes x reader

notes: jack is just precious and so wholesome istg.

masterlist

growing up, jack was always taught to treat women with respect. he was also told that he should pay special attention to the girl in his life that meant the world to him.

and that's what he did with y/n. she was his best friend & had been since the 6th grade. ever since they met, they were completely inseparable.

even when jack went straight from high school to being a professional hockey player, y/n went with him. she figured she could take a gap year then enroll in school in jersey once she found one that was right for her.

it was obvious to everyone that their close friendship bordered on a real relationship but nobody could be bothered to bring it up. especially not when they saw how much they both cared about the friendship and would do nothing to jeopardize it.

jack's rookie season in the nhl was not as great as he expected it to be. he lost more games than he could count and felt like he wasn't living up to his full potential. but he was reminded every night when he came home that no matter how bad he played, he would always have his favorite girl cheering him on.

and given how close they were, most people had a feeling that something or someone would come along and cause a rift in their friendship. and when jack got his first girlfriend since going pro, they were all proven wrong. turns out that the girlfriend didn't like how close he and y/n had been and she gave him an ultimatum. of course he chose y/n, leading people to believe that there was definitely something going on between the pair.

and no matter how many times people put that idea out there, they always shut the thought down and insisted they were always going to be just friends.

but those closest to them knew that was most certainly not true.

everything they did was something an average couple would do. they could deny it all they wanted but it was clear they were destined to be together.

----------

"hey, y/n. are you coming to the game tonight?"

"do you want me to come?"

"always." jack smiled, but immediately became concerned when she didn't smile back. "of course i want you there. do you think i don't?"

"i was just messing with you, jack. of course i'll be there."

"okay good." he kissed the top of her head and smiled. "you almost gave me a heart attack. i can't play without you there."

"no need to worry, darling. i've never intentionally missed a game since the second half of your rookie season and i'm not going to start now."

"i know. i don't know why i thought you weren't coming tonight though."

"you'd miss me too much if i wasn't there." y/n smirked.

"you know me too well." jack chuckled and grabbed his gear. "i'm late for practice. but i'll for sure see you later tonight, right?"

"absolutely. wouldn't miss it." y/n walked with jack to the door. he looked at her bracelet and smiled.

"you're gonna need a whole new bracelet if we win tonight."

"you mean after you win tonight?" y/n smiled and moved the bracelet around. "who picks out the charm this time?"

"i believe it's jesper's turn again."

"oh, sweet. i love the charms he picks."

"what about mine?"

"i love them even more than jesper's. you know that."

"yeah, i know." jack smiled again and grabbed his keys. "alright. see you in a few hours."

"bye." y/n shut the door and examined her bracelet again. jack had bought it for her after he scored his first career goal and told her that every time his team won, he would buy her another charm because he considered her to be his personal good luck charm. after the 10th win, his teammates started taking turns picking out the charms, as they not only believed that y/n was jack's good luck charm, but theirs as well. they never lost when she attended a game so the belief stuck.

a few hours later, y/n grabbed her jack hughes jersey, put on her black jeans and slipped on her red converse. she threw her hair up in a messy bun and didn't bother with any makeup since she never really wore it much anyway.

before she got in the car, she sent a text to both jack and luke, wishing them good luck on the game. luke's reply was just a thumbs up while jack's reply was an entire paragraph. y/n left it open and drove to the arena. when she arrived, she put her phone in her purse, completely forgetting to respond to jack's text.

in the locker room, luke was finishing adjusting his skates when jack sat next to him.

"y/n left me on read, luke. do you think she's okay? what if something happened to her on the way here?"

"i'm sure she's fine. she's the most careful driver i know." he finished lacing the right skate and pulled the left one tighter. "have you tried calling?"

"no. we never call before games. it's a rule."

"you might have to break a rule every now and then."

"okay, fine." jack pulled his phone out and quickly dialed y/n's number. it went to voicemail and jack sighed. "right to voicemail, luke. this is not good."

"relax, jack. she probably just turned her phone to do not disturb so she could focus entirely on the game tonight."

"okay. maybe you're right." jack stood up. "thanks, bro."

"no problem." luke chuckled. "you gotta learn to never doubt me."

"yeah, yeah. whatever." jack rolled his eyes and grabbed his stick. "we got a game to win."

as the boys came out onto the ice, y/n's gaze immediately landed on jack. he looked at her and smiled, thankful that nothing happened to her on the way to the game. he skated around and that's when the thought hit him.

she didn't respond to his pre-game text like she normally did.

the game went on like it normally would, but with jack distracted, he wasn't playing his best. y/n watched as jack took a hit at the end of 1st period. it never should've happened and she was beginning to worry.

she pulled out her phone and went to send him a text, knowing he was gonna check his phone during the break. and that's when she realized she never replied to the paragraph he sent before the game. she felt guilty, as if she was the reason jack was having a bad game.

she typed as fast as her fingers could go, rattling off an extra long apology text, hoping it would make up for earlier.

and when jack was back out on the ice for the second period, he seemed to be playing a lot better than before. the text seemed to have worked.

halfway through the last period, the devils were up by 2. as jack scored, he turned to look at y/n. when he saw her, he smiled.

he was distracted and the other team knew it. so they took this opportunity to slam him in the boards as hard as possible, taking jack out for the last 10 minutes of the game.

as the ref escorted jack off the ice, y/n hurried out of her seat and down to the tunnel. she rushed to the medic's office and watched as he did his routine checkup on jack. when he was finished, he turned to y/n.

"take good care of this one. he's showing signs of a possible concussion and he may be out for a game or two. we have to make sure he'll be okay."

"don't worry. i'll make sure he's fine." y/n smiled as the medic walked out of the room.

"that was a terrible game." jack shook his head slowly. "i screwed up."

"no you didn't, jack. you played great." y/n squeezed his shoulder softly and smiled.

"you and i both know i didn't. i was a mess in the first half of the game and-"

"i know. it was my fault. i should've answered your text."

"what? no. that's not why i wasn't focused. okay well maybe a bit. but i wasn't mad. i was scared. the last text i got from you before the game was that you were on your way here. and when you didn't reply to my text, i thought something bad happened to you. i wouldn't know what to do without you."

"don't worry. i'm right here."

"good." jack looked up at her and smiled. neither of them knew why they began to lean in but when their lips were about to touch, luke walked into the room, causing them both to jump apart. luckily luke didn't see anything.

"hey. we won the game but i wanted to come see you. how are you doing?"

"i'm alright. might have a concussion and may have to sit out for a game or two. but i'm fine."

"do you need me to stay tonight and keep an eye on you?"

"no thanks, luke. i appreciate the offer but y/n is gonna be there. she lives with me, remember?"

"right. are you sure there's not another reason she's living with you? like, say, maybe you guys are more than friends?" luke raised his eyebrow.

"oh yeah. i sleep with jack every night and he's sooo good. and oh my god. the size is just-" y/n smirked when luke interrupted her.

"i was kidding. i really didn't need to know any details. gross." he shook his head and left the room. jack couldn't help ut laugh at his brothers reaction.

"you know he's gonna tell the rest of the team, right?"

"let them believe what they want. only we know the truth." she winked at him and grabbed his stuff. "now let's get going. i hear my bed calling me."

"you're so dramatic." he chuckled and followed his best friend out to her car. "it's a good thing i got a ride here with luke this morning."

"yes it is. now you can be my little passenger princess this time, instead of the other way around."

"ha. ha. very funny."

"i know i am." y/n smiled and started driving back to their apartment. "how's the head feeling?"

"little rough. but i'll be fine, i promise. you don't need to worry." jack reached over the center console and squeezed her leg gently.

"i always worry about you." y/n kept her eyes on the road but when jack moved his hand, she felt like her leg was on fire.

"i know. and i appreciate it. a lot." jack smiled and got out of the car when she parked. he hurried over to her door and opened it for her.

"thanks, jack. but i could've done that on my own."

"i'm showing my appreciation."

"jack, there are other ways to show your appreciation." y/n smiled and walked to their door. jack was frozen in his spot as he watched her walk inside. before the door shut, he rushed in behind her.

"hold up. just wait a second." he sat down on the couch and looked at y/n. "what other ways can i show my appreciation?"

"by getting me a new charm for my bracelet since your team won." y/n smirked. "did you think i meant something else?"

"what? no. of course not." jack shook his head rapidly, causing y/n to continue smirking.

"oh my gosh. you totally did!"

"well, i kinda thought that we could talk about what almost happened back in the medic's office before luke walked in."

"jack, it was a slip up. heat of the moment situation. it never should've happened."

"it didn't happen. but i agree. heat of the moment." jack sighed and looked at her. "you're my best friend and i love you. but what didn't happen is not going to change us, right?"

"of course not." y/n smiled and headed to her room. jack watched her close the door and let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

it was going to change everything.

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

over the course of the next few weeks, the dynamic between y/n and jack had shifted. everyone noticed immediately but it took jack and y/n a little longer to catch on.

it wasn't drastic enough where y/n felt like she had to move out. but she no longer felt like jack wanted to spend every minute with her like he normally had in the past.

his attitude changed and he slowly became less of the happy guy he always was, and more of a moody one instead. he was getting into fights more often than not & he was bringing girls home with him almost every night.

he would ignore y/n when she would greet him and each time he did, y/n felt like he was chipping away a piece of her heart. it was starting to become an issue for her and she didn't know what to do.

until an 'angel' knocked on the apartment door one afternoon.

y/n was home alone, getting ready for the last regular season game, when she heard the knock. she got up and looked through the peephole.

"nico? what are you doing here? shouldn't you be at the arena practicing for the big game?"

"i should be. but i think we need to talk."

"what about?" she held the door and looked at her friend. "what's going on? is everything okay?"

"with me? yeah. with jack? no."

"what do you mean?"

"you've noticed the changes recently, yes?"

"of course. i notice a lot." she shook her head. "what about his changes?"

"it's messing with his playing."

"meaning?"

"he used to be the best player on the team but for the last 4 weeks, he's been different. his points haven't gone up and his skill level has declined. he still ranks fairly high in the league but it's nowhere near where he deserves to be." he sighed. "i need to know what happened between you guys."

"why do you assume something happened?"

"because i know you guys better than you think i do. and the dynamic between you has shifted since he got the concussion a month ago. so what happened? did jack say something to upset you, or vice versa?"

"no. at least, i don't think so. and to be honest, i have no idea what really happened. the night he got the concussion, we came home and things were fine. but when i woke up the next morning, it was like the jack hughes i know and love was replaced by someone else."

"so jack is the only one to know why he's been acting so weird?"

"i guess so." y/n looked at her phone. "you should get going. the team's gonna need their captain before the game."

"yeah, you're right." he went to walk away but stopped. "are you coming to the game?"

"yeah. i'll be there. there's just something i need to do first. see you later." she shut the door slowly and walked into jack's room. it looked pretty much like it always did. it was a little bit messier than normal but that's how jack tended to keep it.

as she was about to walk out, she saw a gift on the floor by his bed. there was a tag attached to it that had her name printed neatly on it in jack's handwriting. she picked it up and took it with her to the car. she needed an explanation and was determined to get one, even if jack didn't want to give it to her.

when she parked at the arena, she climbed out of her car and ran inside quickly. there was still a little while before the game started but the fans were already filing into their seats. the team was skating around the ice doing their warm ups but jack was nowhere to be found. and neither was nico.

y/n was about to send nico a text, telling him she had arrived, but when she looked up, jack and nico were skating onto the ice. nico waved when he noticed her but jack hadn't seen her yet so she would have to wait to talk to him.

the first half of the game was brutal for the devils. they were down by 3 at the end of the second period, not having scored a single goal yet, and they were looking at a complete shutout,

y/n watched the team skate off the ice and sent a text to nico, letting him know she was on her way down to the locker rom to talk to jack. she couldn't wait another second.

as she got to the room, the rest of the team was walking out slowly. nico was last and he stopped her.

"um, just a heads up but he's not in a great mood and he's blaming himself for what's happened so far in the game. hopefully you can work your magic on him like you always do."

"yeah, hopefully. good luck out there." she smiled and stood in the doorway to the locker room. jack was pacing back and forth with his head down so he didn't notice her and he was mumbling to himself. she knocked lightly on the door to get his attention. "jack?"

"huh?" his head shot up and they made eye contact. "w-what are you doing here?"

"i came to see my best friend play kick some ass and make it to the playoffs tonight."

"that's not gonna happen so you can go home if you want. i don't want to disappoint you when we lose."

"you're not going to lose, jack." she took a step into the room and the air felt thick.

"we haven't scored once this game and there's 20 minutes left. i highly doubt we're coming back from this." he shook his head. "and it's all my fault."

"no it's not. it's a team game, jack. it doesn't depend on just one person. you know that."

"if i hadn't played so badly this last month, we'd already be guaranteed a playoff spot. but this game is the make or break one."

"what's gotten into you? where's the best friend who is always full of spirit and determination? the one who never wants to give up, no matter how hard a task may be?"

"he's a total mess who can't get his shit together. he's lost hope for a lot of things in his life and he doesn't know how to get back to his normal self again."

"when did things change?" y/n took a seat beside him on the bench. "was it before or after the concussion?"

"the same night." he sighed. "i felt the change after we got home."

"was it something i did that maybe upset you?" y/n looked at him but he didn't answer. "jack, please talk to me. i want to help you in anyway that i can."

"do you really think that our almost kiss was just a slip up? a heat of the moment thing?"

"what?"

"just tell me the truth, please?"

"i've known you since the 6th grade and not once did i ever think about kissing you. you've been my best friend since i met you so yeah. it was a heat of the moment thing." y/n looked up to find jack staring at her.

"i feel the same way. or at least i thought i did." he sighed. "i had never thought about kissing you before and have had no romantic feelings towards you since we became friends. but that night, when you didn't answer my pre-game text, i was scared something happened to you. and you already know that. but as i was freaking out, i started thinking about why i was reacting that way. i realized that i never wanted to experience life without you. and then when i saw you and saw that you were alright, my heart nearly exploded with happiness. i thought i lost you but you were there, in front of me, and these brand new feelings became overwhelming for me." jack took another breath. "that night when you told me it was a slip up, it hit me that you didn't feel the same way about me. so i started giving you space because it felt like what was best and i realize now that it was a mistake to do that. because without you by my side, i fell apart real fast. i screwed up by almost kissing you and if it was possible, i would turn back time and stop myself. i never intended for things to end up this way. and i am so sorry i disappointed you."

"you could never disappoint me, jack. you're my favorite person in the entire world. and yes, i thought it was a slip up that night because i had never thought about kissing you before. but when you were giving me that 'space', it gave me time to think about what almost happened and i have come to the realization that it wasn't a heat of the moment situation. i realized that i can't live my life without you. truthfully, i love you jack. i never really thought about it before but now i know."

"so all that space was a dumb idea, huh?"

"of course, dummy. but maybe things can be different now. we can get back to how things were before the concussion." y/n took his hand. "but with an added bonus of love."

"that sounds like a good idea." he went to kiss her but she stopped him.

"wait. i almost forgot the main reason i cam back here."

"what's that?"

"i found this in your room." she pulled the gift out from her purse and handed it to him. he turned it around in his hands and smiled. "what is it?"

"as ridiculous as this might sound, it's a book." he let out a chuckle.

"a book?"

"yeah. but not just any book." he smiled. "this book is special and i was intending to give it to you for your birthday but i didn't know if things would be back to normal or not." he looked up at her. "go ahead. open it."

y/n carefully unwrapped the book and stared at the cover. a little cartoon version of herself with jack stared up at her with the title my best friend written in shiny silver letters. she flipped through the book and smiled with every page she read. it was a story book of her life, before and after she met jack. it was illustrated so perfectly and each hidden detail throughout the book made her eyes water. "jack , i love this so much."

"i figured you would. but i'm glad you do." he looked at her. "did you see what was taped to the back cover?"

"no." she flipped to the back cover and taped to the inside was a little swan charm. y/n carefully pulled it off and smiled. "seriously, jack. you didn't have to do this."

"well i wanted to. i needed to show you how much you mean to me but with everything you've ever done for me, the book and the charm are not going to be enough."

"jack, they're more than enough. they're perfect." she looked at him. "you're perfect."

neither of them hesitated to place their lips together. they fit perfectly together, just like everyone knew they would. jack held y/n's face as he deepened the kiss. her hands held his wrists as they slowly pulled apart.

"okay, my team is waiting for me. i've got a game to win." he stood up quickly. "i love you."

"i love you too. now go out there before they start to worry." y/n laughed as jack rushed out to the ice. she slid the book back in her purse and made her way back to her seat just in time for the final period to start.

30 seconds in, jack scored a goal and the fans went nuts. his teammates all hugged him and nico looked up to where y/n was sitting, knowing she really did work her magic on him.

there was 5 minutes left in the game when nico passed the puck to jack, who scored another goal, putting the game at 3-2 for nashville.

with 2 minutes left, it was looking like they were going to lose. but luck must've been on their side because curtis somehow got the puck to jack. he took it and sped down to the other end of the rink, shooting it right into the net to tie the game.

and when the buzzer went off to signal the end of the game, everyone on the team was excited. they were congratulating jack as they made their way to the bench.

"whatever you're doing, keep it up. that was an excellent third period." curtis high-fived him and walked down the tunnel. both jack and nico shared a look and their eyes went to y/n in the stands. she waved to them and they smiled.

"she must've worked her magic real hard on you to get such a turn around like that."

"yeah. something like that." jack smirked and took a drink from his water bottle before spraying some down the back and front of his jersey. he knew he was a great player but even he was impressed with how fast he shifted the game.

overtime started not long after their conversation and even though nashville was playing hard, new jersey was playing harder. their team dynamic was so much stronger than it was before.

with the clock ticking down and jack with the puck, the win was in sight. but the nashville players were not letting it go that easily. all the players on the ice chased jack and nearly cornered him. one slammed him into the side, causing him to lose his balance and fall. they all looked for the puck, believing that he would've given up the possession when he hit the ice.

but he did that before he went down. he passed the puck to jesper, who was not being defended. luckily nobody saw that pass. jesper took off back towards the nashville net and hit the puck as hard as he could, sending it flying towards the goal.

everyone watched with baited breath as the puck moved faster and faster towards the net. when it hit the back and the buzzer went off, everyone cheered. the devils were going to the playoffs.

y/n made her way down to the tunnel to wait for the team. nico had a feeling that's what she would be doing so he made sure jack was at the end of the line.

as they passed by, y/n congratulated the guys on the big win and continued to wait for jack. when she saw him, she couldn't help but throw herself into his arms. he was shocked but he held her tightly.

"that was incredible, jack. i told you you were going to win."

"i couldn't have done it without you and our talk."

"well, you could've. but i'm gonna take the credit where i can get it." she smiled. "go get changed so we can go home and celebrate."

"yes ma'am."

things were going to be okay. they were gonna make sure of it.

[tarohugs]

after you find out they cheated (nct dream)

►ot7 x reader

► angst!! some (very minute) fluff, cliff hangers..

►read part 1 here!

►a/n part 2 as requested!! although this was def not what some wanted i think this turn off events is much better. please enjoy and lmk if u do

MARK

After the dispatch rumors, Mark’s name trended on social media for the remainder of the month. Seeing his face constantly had upset you tremendously to the point where you had to mute his name and every nickname given to the boy. 

You two had not talked since he admitted to you over text he had cheated. He made many attempts to come over and make amends but to no avail, you paid no remorse to his actions. Truthfully, Mark was the love of your life and you dearly wanted to give him a chance considering he was trying his best to set forth with your relationship, but something about you couldn’t let him off so easily. 

Throughout the course of your relationship with Mark, he had always said you “were the one” and you shared many intimate moments together. Now, as you watch him through your doorbell camera making his final attempt at reconciling, you decide it is time to finally communicate your true feelings. 

He had approached your front door with flowers and a box of your favorite chocolates along with other of your most beloved items you enjoyed. His eyes swelled with tears as he began to stutter words when you opened the front door. 

“Y-y/n,” Mark faltered in shock that you opened the door before he even had the chance to knock. “I have a lot to explain, just please listen-”

You laughed, surprised he thought he even had a chance, “Mark, you know what you did was wrong and nothing can change that. Look, I didn’t answer to hear you out, I answered to tell you I’m over you and to stop bothering me.” Your eyes watered as you made eye contact with the boy that was once your lover.

“You know it’s just Dispatch,” he asserted, “None of that was the truth, you know this. Please, just listen to me, I can explain everything to you even if you don’t want to hear it. Don’t just throw away years of us for something so stupid.”

You gasped, shocked that he would claim this was stupid, “There’s nothing to explain to me, you fucked up and this is over. None of the shit I’ve seen about you this month was stupid. I’m not dumb, Mark, don’t treat me like this. You don’t deserve a second chance.”

Mark tried to speak again but you immediately shut him down with the palm of your hand signaling him to stop. Maybe you would give him a chance another day but this wasn’t the time. You never accepted the gifts from him as you shut the door in his face. 

As months went on after your final encounter with Mark, he made no other attempts to reunite with you, accepting you were ready to move on to someone better. No texts, no knocking on your door, no phonecalls, no contact at all. Your life with Mark was over for good.

RENJUN

When Renjun had admitted to you he cheated, you didn’t believe his words at first. He had to be joking, I mean who was he to cheat anyways? He was always loyal to you and never failed to ensure you were the number one thing in his life. What could possibly bring him to cheat on you?

“Renjun, what are you talking about?” you questioned, trying to come up with some explanation for his infidelity. 

He couldn’t look you in the eyes as he confessed, “You know Yeji? My new coworker? We were at a holiday party and I was drunk and you know how the rest played out.”

You couldn’t believe his words. Renjun was always the type to inform you of every event in his life. When he had told you about his annual holiday work parties, he always invited you, this year was the first you had heard nothing. As you came to the realization why, you finally connected the dots. 

Even though Renjun excused himself by offering that he was drunk, this wasn’t a drunken mistake. Renjun was intentional with his actions. If he had intended not to invite you in the first place, his objective was clear he was trying to get in Yeji’s pants. 

Not a single bone in your body felt remorse for the boy as you came to comprehend his efforts to cheat on you. “Get out,” you stated strictly, offering no emotion for Renjun to crack.

“Y/n, just give me a chance. I’ll make it up to you,” he began to plead, clutching his fingers together to create a dramatic effect. Nothing could make you forgive him.

“Renjun, you knew what you did. You’re better than this and I deserve better than whatever is going on with you,” you attempted to excuse his infidelity. Renjun had always been truthful with you and although his activities were clear, you had wanted to give him a chance despite your brain telling you not to. 

Renjun simply nodded your head at your statement, beginning to get out of your once shared bed and gather his belongings. He didn’t speak a word as he stuffed his suitcase full other than, “I’ll get the rest of my things later.” He didn’t though, after that night he had left for good.

He never texted you to gather his possessions or make amends. You went on for weeks of no contact and eventually trashed his uncollected belongings due to the high level of emotion they caused you. Not wanting to make the first text, you waited and waited for him to make a move.

Eventually your waiting had done you justice has you finally received a message from your ex-boyfriend.

renjun: y/n

renjun: let’s talk

JENO

After many failed attempts of trying to make Jeno offer some sort of apology for his actions, he eventually started ghosting you as a whole. You couldn’t believe he could once be so loving and switch so easily to being the toxic ex-boyfriend he would shame before. 

The I love you’s turned into Leave me alone’s as you constantly tried to confront him. During the course of your relationship, you two had moved in together and when he cheated on you he made no attempt to move out - simply inviting other girls over without a care in the world. 

Luckily, you two had separate rooms but this didn’t change the fact you could still hear the banging of his bedframe against the wall from one of his many one night stands. One night you had gotten so agitated by his thoughtless actions and confronted him about what was going on.

“Jeno,” you barged into his room, interrupting whatever fuck he had going on. “I’ve had enough of this.”

He pushed the half-naked girl off of him, slowly making his way to throw on a shirt, telling the girl to leave. She scoffed at you limiting her time with Jeno but quickly put on her scattered clothes, leaving your shared apartment. “Y/n, what the fuck is your problem,” he expressed angrily, clearly upset that you would interrupt such an intimate moment.

“Look Jeno, I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you, but I’ve had enough of it. Either you stop with this or you leave. You were the one that fucked up. Figure out your life,” you finally stood your ground. Jeno had always been dominant in your relationship, and after your “break-up” this prevailed. 

He constantly made you feel bad about yourself, blaming you for “not being good enough” as the reason he had to cheat on you. Yeah, this hurt like hell. However, you were desperate to make Jeno love you again, even if he had acted so wrongly. 

Jeno rolled his eyes at your scolding, “If you want me out y/n, so be it. Just know I won’t come back.” He shut the door in your face as you listened to him slam drawers and punch the wall in anger.

You ran back to your room and shut the door behind you, sliding down it as tears began to blind your eyes. What had happened to Jeno? 

The next morning you woke up with no trace of Jeno to be found. He offered no explanation for what had changed him so tremendously but you figured you would find out when you received a knock on the door from Jaemin, Jeno’s best friend.

You answered the door reluctantly, scared Jaemin would make a comment on your puffy eyes and dishelved features. “Jaemin, what’s wrong?” you questioned, taking in his appearance. He seemed to be in the same situation as you, noticing his freshly awoken demeanor.

“Y/n, we need to talk. It’s about Jeno,” he sighed, stepping into your apartment.

HAECHAN

When Haechan saw the look on your face after you discovered him cheating, endless apologies left his mouth. He had never seen you so upset and angry with him, he admitted he deserved your backlash. 

Even though he was quick to beg for your forgiveness, you never offered it to him, opting to move on instead. You were petty and getting back together with Haechan would not be the power move. 

Although you had made it clear you were over Haechan, you never made an official attempt at breaking up with him. Instead, you had simply ghosted him as you didn’t want to make any contact with your so-called ex-boyfriend. This, instead, led you to have even more difficulties moving on as you felt remorse hooking up with other men due to some sort of tie still being connected to the boy.

Months went by and all the efforts you made to sleep with random strangers were ruined as you felt a constant cloud of guilt hanging over you. You tried to get over him by getting blackout drunk at random parties, knowing sober you would make no effort to move on. You were unsuccessful most nights but one night you were finally convinced it was your time. 

Unfortunately, the guy that you landed with in bed was only victorious due to the similar features he shared with Haechan. His hair, his voice, his eyes - everything reminded you of him. Yeah, you had technically not gotten over him, but it was a start!

You were gracious enough to recognize this was a lead in the right direction as you had finally slept with another guy since your relationship with Haechan “ended.” Though, as you began to sober up as you awoke from your one night stand, you couldn’t help but notice the man in your bed appeared too close to Haechan. 

As you took a closer look, your suspicions were confirmed. You were back to square one.

JAEMIN

Following the numerous days you had left your shared apartment with Jaemin, he began to grow concerned for your being and where you were staying. You had opted to reside in your best friend's house as she was the only one kind enough to offer you a place to stay.

Jaemin knew you lacked options to inhabit for the time being and was quick to conclude your location. No longer than two days of you staying there, Jaemin had made his way into her apartment with a bouquet of roses, reciting the speech of apologies for you to hear.

“Y/n,” he sighed, moving closer to you when you opened the front door, “I know you want nothing to do with me, but I have a lot of explaining to do. I’m so sorry for getting upset at you, you did nothing wrong. Please forgive me.”

You laughed in his face. Did he really think you would forgive him so easily? “Jaemin, I can’t believe you right now. You owe me a lot more than this,” you asserted.

He knew you would be reluctant to accept his expression of regret but he knew he could convince you no matter what it would take. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes,” he breathed, handing you the flowers, “please give me another chance. I’ll show you the world.”

It’s crazy to think the way his final sentence could be perceived so differently. Once you had viewed the words as a way of him expressing his love, now it was simply his manipulating attempt to win you over.

Although you were upset with Jaemin for his actions, you couldn’t hate him. You had loved him for months on end and it would be difficult to get over such emotions in such a short time period. You allowed his manipulation to work on you as you offered him a second chance. 

You two continued your relationship for months, rebuilding the connection you once had, this time with more caution. As you began to fall in love again, you couldn’t help but wonder who the girl he had cheated on you with had been. This prompted you to begin searching his phone for clues on who the mistress could possibly be. 

When you arrive upon your best friend's name in his recent text messages, you ponder what the two would be conversing. As you scroll through their texts and see the endless meetups and shared intimate texts, the story finally clicked into place.

CHENLE

After Eric had shown you the texts he shared with Chenle, he was quick to console you over your ex-boyfriend. You had scheduled a meetup with Chenle immediately after and broke up with him, offering no time for an explanation from him. Eric and Yuna had been good friends of yours for years, you knew everything they told you was the truth with no sugarcoating.

As time went on, you and Eric’s relationship began to prosper into something more, sharing many endless night together but never making it further than a few stolen kisses. A couple weeks after your break up with Chenle, Eric had attempted to ask you on a date but you were quick to deny him stating that it was too early for him to make a move. 

“Y/n, I don’t understand. Were those drunken nights nothing to you?” Eric questioned, angered you could deny him so easily. 

You shook your head, upset that he would be so ignorant to ignore your emotions. “You know I just got out of a relationship, Eric, those nights meant something I’m just not ready for commitment yet.” Truthfully you never felt much for him when you were dating Chenle, but due to his chivalrous acts of exposing your cheating boyfriend, you had gained some attachment to the boy. 

Eric accepted your explanation but still attempted to win you over multiple nights in a row. Eventually, you fell into his trap and accepted going on a date with him. As you delved into a new relationship with Eric, you couldn’t help but feel as though something was off. 

Yuna wasn’t very supportive of your relationship after a couple weeks of being with him. She noticed a change in your attitude and offered no reasoning of why she further began to distance yourself from you two. The three of you were inseparable for years so you figured she was just beginning to adjust to being a third wheel.

Though something about Yuna’s lack of support for your relationship with Eric struck a nerve inside you, you couldn’t help but feel there was an underlying message behind her actions. When you received a message from the girl, you were in for a ride.

yuna!!!: don’t hate me but eric lied about chenle

JISUNG

Accidentally live streaming is one thing, having a girl speaking in the background is another. Netizens were quick to spread rumours about who the mysterious voice was in Jisung’s accidental live stream. You were also curious as to know what Jisung was truly doing in that moment of vulnerability, but when you sent him various concerned and aggravated messages, you realized none of your texts were delivered to his phone. Jisung had blocked you.

Being an idol means strict punishment from companies - and under the circumstances Jisung had fucked up, he was in for trouble. Of course his managers were aware Jisung was dating you, so they were quick to assume the mystery girl was you. Due to this, they were punished Jisung by banning all contact he had with you. This led you to having no reasoning for what was going on that day. 

You attempted to contact his members but they made no effort to offer you any explanation either, most likely scared they, too, would get in trouble. If you weren’t terrified of the company, you would reach out to his managers yourself, but you had heard of the things they did to idols and you didn’t want to risk any chance of communication you had with Jisung.

After months of no contact with the boy, you finally began to accept he wouldn’t be returning back to your life any time soon; however, when you received a letter in the mail from Park Jisung, a sliver of hope ran through your veins that this chapter of worrying would finally come to an end. 

As you opened and read the handwritten letter he had graciously sent, your eyes began to shed tears. In his heartfelt letter, he sent numerous apologies and explained the girl in the video had been one of his cousins, he was simply hanging out with family and didn’t tell you because he wanted to surprise you with a gift she had intended on giving you.

Although you were reluctant to believe such a fallacy, you knew Jisung better than anyone else, he had to be telling the truth. The only problem was, that there was no way to contact Jisung other than via the mail. Even though you had found out the truth, what was the cost?

[ink-and-dagger]

Hi Legacy, thank you for your comment and for your compliment about my writing. Unfortunately, Tumblr wouldn’t let me leave this response to your comment under the fic, so I am having to add it onto your reblog. Something I really, genuinely, did not want to have to do.

I hear what you are saying, and am in full agreement with you - tags play a vital role in reader protection, and there’s nothing more frustrating (and in some cases dangerous) than people misusing them.

However, a few words now in my own defence.

I am not new here. I have been writing and posting Silco fics since Arcane first aired back in 2021. It seems more likely in this case that you are new if not to the Arcane fandom then to my blog/writing specifically - so allow me to provide a bit of context which may help, because I don’t believe this case is as cut-and-dry as you believe it to be. I began posting my multi-chapter Silco x Reader fic Drink With Me in January 2022, and updated regularly until its completion in July of that same year. I was extremely lucky in that my story gained a lot of traction and interaction within the fandom throughout that time. People became extremely invested in the Reader character, and would ask me all sorts of questions about her. That’s how Astrid was born. She became a point of reference outside the fic for those who wanted someone to visualise, whilst the fic itself remained strictly a Reader Insert. In the few years since this story wrapped up, my followers have remained invested in the ‘Drink With Me’ universe (again, I’m incredibly lucky and thankful for this), and to this day I receive tons of requests for bonus content set within this universe that I try to fulfil whenever I can. Despite these ficlets being connected to a main multi-chapter fic, most of them can easily be read as a standalone and do not require the context or any prior knowledge of the main fic to make sense. Additionally, as I did with the main fic, they are always written in 2nd person, the character is never referred to by name, and I never use any physical descriptors beyond anatomical ones during smut. If you were to take away any and all tags and look purely at the text alone, it reads as a traditional reader insert, which is why I tag it as such. I include the ‘Astrid’ and ‘OC’ tags for those people who are familiar with the DWM fic and universe and who specifically follow me for this reason, so that they know in their minds that the ficlet relates to the world/timeline of Drink With Me in some way shape or form. I think the point I’m trying to make is that those who are familiar with me and my work will see the ‘Astrid/OC’ tag and go “Ah cool it’s this universe”. Whereas for everyone else I add the ‘can be read as gen!reader insert’ note at the top so that they can go “Ah cool, let me just ignore that character tag then” and happily read it as a general reader insert fic perfectly fine. I hope that makes a bit more sense as to why I tag this way, why I’ve always tagged this way, and why I will continue to tag this way for my Drink With Me adjacent works. If I ever were to write something in 1st or 3rd person or that described the MC in a very specific way, then I would of course not tag that as a reader fic.

Now, so long as we’re here discussing fandom etiquette, I’d like to politely point out that adding your grievance onto the reblog of a specific fic is not a ‘gentle reminder’ - it’s a full-frontal attack on the author who wrote that fic. It would have been far better for you to create your own, separate post addressing the fandom as a whole, or to send me a quiet, private comment/DM on the side.

As I’ve already said, I empathise with your point of view, and I hope you are able to empathise with mine. If the way I choose to tag my work bothers you, then please feel free to block my account so that I don’t show up whilst you are searching for content. At the end of the day we are all individual humans - you cannot expect everyone to interpret/measure/categorise everything in the same way you would, and it’s imperative to take some measure of responsibility for cultivating your own online space, instead of relying on others to do it for you.

What if Astrid find a pic of young Silco by accident hehhehehehhehehehehhe

Snapshot

A Drink With Me ficlet

870 words || Established relationship || Silco x Astrid (but can be read as gen f!reader) || SFW but suggestive || MDNI

“Oh my Gods.”

“What?”

“Oh. My Gods.”

Time has stripped the photograph between your fingers of its glossy sheen and has left the edges blunt and frayed, but you would recognise those features anywhere; no less sharp nor striking through the faded sepia.

“This is you.”

It had slipped from between two ledgers as you’d perused Silco’s bookshelves – an activity more to entertain your idle hands than a genuine search for reading material. The image itself is simple and candid: A young man, seemingly oblivious to the fact his portrait is being taken, sat at a familiar bar, with eyes downcast toward a spread of papers.

That same man looks up at you now from a very similar spread of papers. “What is?”

“This.” You drift over to his desk and perch on its edge, all the while unable to tear your gaze from the photo in your hands. The pitch dark hair swept back into a low bun. The familiar strays – the same ones that even now will always be the first to escape any styling under the combing of agitated fingers – falling forward into his face, only far longer and thicker than you’re used to. His skin, unblemished and smooth, save for the chronic furrow between his brows – etched there long before time and tragedy ravaged the rest.

Silco hums absently; an indication that he acknowledges your discovery but finds little interest in it. You can imagine the man in the photograph making the exact same noise, were someone to distract him from his paperwork for a reason he deemed benign. You flip the photo over. No date.

“How old are you here?”

Silco exhales through his nose, places his pen down with a pointed clack, and extends his hand wordlessly toward you.

“Hah! Do you think I’m wet behind the ears?” you hold the photograph out of his reach, “You can tell just fine from over there thank you very much.”

He cuts you a scathing glance, before leaning forward in his chair with a foreboding creak to peer more closely at the image. His scarred lips purse slightly in thought.

“Mid–late twenties. I can’t say for certain.”

“You were hot.”

“Were?”

“Were and are,” you coo, reclining backwards over the desk into his space, one elbow pitched on his paperwork to hold your weight whilst you flap the photograph in front of his face, “Can I keep this?”

“For what reason?”

“Dirty ones.”

“Hardly necessary,” Silco says, the very corner of his mouth creasing upwards as he catches your wrist to halt your photo-flapping, “You have access to the real thing.”

“True, true, and you can be sure I’ll continue taking advantage of that.” You grin, shoving your captured, photo-wielding arm a little closer to him in emphasis, “But right now I’m talking about some alone time with this guy.”

Silco scoffs under his breath and releases your wrist. You twist onto your front, weight propped on both elbows as you admire the photograph in your grip. You trace a finger down the slender throat of the man in the photo, over the generous wedge of chest exposed by his open crimson collar.

“D’you think he’d notice me? If I came into that bar?”

“Oh I’m certain he would.”

“Yeah?” You lift your gaze from the man in the photo to the one before you – as equally breathtaking. More so. You catch your lower lip between your teeth. “What line would he use?”

Silco hums, low and thoughtful, leaning forward in his chair, closing in on your space. He picks up his abandoned pen, briefly twirling the implement until it’s poised between his elegant fingers like a cigarette. Nib safely facing his own palm.

“After downing the dregs of his drink for courage... he would have approached you.”

With sensual tenderness, he brushes the barrel of his pen along your cheek, warmed metal against warmer skin. Catching at the curve of your jawline, and tracing over your pulse in a way that makes it fumble a beat.

“Cast his gaze over each of your pretty, pretty features. One by one,” he murmurs, slowly drawing the end of the pen down your jugular, down the slope of your collar bone, to leisurely trail through the cut of your cleavage. The corner of your mouth hooks up. The warmth low in your belly coils a little tighter.

“He would have leaned in close,” Silco whispers, demonstrating just so, “Close enough that you’d almost taste the whiskey on his breath.”

Blunt metal drags a purposeful line up your throat, and your lips part softly as he tilts your face toward his with the barrel of his pen flat and firm beneath your chin.

“And asked you – very nicely – to stop leaning on his paperwork.”

You press your tongue against the inside of your cheek while Silco’s dual eyes sizzle with smug mirth. It’d be unthinkable, really – to forfeit either one for the sake of a matching pair.

You straighten and push off his desk, hips swaying as you saunter over to the bedroom with the photograph in hand.

“Well,” you say, pausing in the threshold and turning to him with a smirk, “If you need us, you know where we’ll be.”

[marauder-misprint]

People watching

Part 1 Part 2

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader

1.3k words

cw: fluff

There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, allowing the sun to warm the grounds of Hogwarts. As if it were written in scripture, students were opting to lounge around outside rather than spend any amount of time inside. You had prepared a few snacks to bring with you while you attempted to study. You made it maybe fifteen minutes before deciding it was too beautiful of a day to be studying, even if you were outside. You wanted to enjoy it fully so now you were eating some of the snacks and people watching. 

You are fairly well entertained when you notice some movement near you. There’s a squirrel, twitchy nose and bushy tail, looking at you. Or, more accurately, the sandwich in your hand. The squirrel moves closer to you, approaching with caution. It was clearly ready to sprint away in a split second if it sensed danger. You pick off a bit of crust and toss it to the side of the creature. You didn’t want to hit it. That would give it the wrong impression. You smile as the squirrel quickly grabs the crust and immediately begins to nibble on it. You swear it looks back at you with hopeful eyes. You laugh and toss a piece further away. The squirrel goes to retrieve the new crust, eats it and comes back, the same hopeful look in its eyes. You repeat your actions, tossing the small crumbs of bread greater distances. You can’t help yourself; it’s just like playing fetch with a dog. 

From their usual spot near the Black Lake, the Marauders are also enjoying the weather. Unlike you, they didn’t bother to bring homework or snacks. James, Remus and Peter were discussing plans and details for their next prank. Sirius wasn’t listening. He had spotted you when they walked out and he hadn’t been able to look away. He was confused at what you were doing, periodically tossing something and laughing. He was too far away to see the squirrel. 

“Oi, Earth to Padfoot!” Peter all but yells, waving his hand in front of Sirius’ face.

“Huh? What?”

“Prongs wants your opinion on dungbombs or enchanted stink pellets.”

“But now I want to know what you find so interesting,” James says, trying to see what he had been looking at. 

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“It’s Dorcas’ friend,” Remus says, a smile creeping up his face. “The dog person, remember?”

James’ face lights up. “Still intrigued, are you?”

“Shut up.”

“Definitely still intrigued,” Peter confirms. “I’m not sure Padfoot heard most of our conversation.”

“I did so,” Sirius tries to defend. “I was listening.”

“And staring at her,” Remus adds.

“Have you considered, oh, I don’t know, talking to her?” Peter asks. “Or go balls deep and ask her out.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, turning his full attention back to the group.

“There was a moment at the last party. She was leaving and I basically asked her to stay and she didn’t.”

“Maybe parties aren’t her thing,” James offers, trying to be helpful.

“She did leave the other one right after she talked to you,” Remus says.

“Maybe it’s talking to you she doesn’t like. That’d be a first for a girl,” Peter snorts.

“We talk just fine!”

“Maybe you’re draining?”

“Wormtail, not helping,” Remus scolds him. 

“I’m again suggesting that maybe she doesn’t like parties. Or maybe it’s the Gryffindor Common Room.”

Sirius looks at James, a small smile forming on his face.

“It could be the common room. She was leaving the party and I convinced her to come to the Astronomy Tower with me. It wasn’t until I tried to get her back into the common room that she actually left.”

Peter laughs, “You took her to the Astronomy Tower? And you didn't snog her? It’s that your spot?”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “It’s a spot. Can’t say I own it.”

“You’ve taken a fair amount of girls up there though,” Remus adds.

“I went up for air.” The boys give him disbelieving looks. “Okay, and I followed her out because I didn’t want her leaving so soon. As you so kindly confirmed, I am still intrigued by her. Happy?”

James crosses his arms and nods. “Yes. Quite.”

Sirius looks back at you and his smile slowly turns down into a tight lipped frown. Some time during his friends’ interrogation, his brother had made himself at home next to you. Even as far away as you are, you’re obviously comfortable and happy in his presence. An unnerving feeling erupts in Sirius’ stomach. 

---

“Slug Club is having a cocktail party in a few weeks. Old Sluggy seems adamant that everyone brings a date,” Regulus complains, disgust dripping from the last word.

You chuckle, tossing the squirrel another crumb of food. 

“Salazar, Reg, you act like bringing a friend is the end of the world.”

“A friend, no. A date, yes,” he corrects you. 

“Same difference. Pretty sure Horace wants to make sure all his favorites are making the connections he wants them to. No one too sketchy and ill-fitting for him.”

Regulus groans and rests his forehead on your shoulder. You ruffle his hair affectionately.

“Does Slug like you?” Regulus mumbles into your arm.

“Enough, I guess. Not skilled enough in Potions or necessarily connected to anyone to earn myself a spot in the club.” You pause. “As you should know.”

“But if I brought you, he’d approve?”

You look down at Regulus. “You’re desperate for his approval?”

He lifts his head up just to nod it vigorously. His eyes are begging you to agree to his unasked invitation. You give him an amused half smile, your eyes twinkling with mischief. 

“You’re going to make me actually ask, aren’t you?”

You nod, not looking away. 

“Darling, will you go to the Slug Club party with me? If I have to suffer through it, I’d like company I can stand.”

“Oh, Regulus, you sure do know how to make a girl feel special,” you say with feigned sweetness, placing your hand over your heart. Then in your normal tone, “Yes, I’ll go with you. Please tell me I don’t have to dress too fancy, do I?”

“Uh, he didn’t say. I’ll ask.”

You nod and look bad to the squirrel. It’s been inching closer to you and your food. Regulus eyes the creature warily.

“Did you befriend that or something?”

“He’s just a little hungry.” The look of mischief in your eyes brightens. “Do you think I can get him to eat out of my hand? I’ve just been tossing him small bits but now that he’s closer…”

Your voice trails off as you break off a small chunk of bread and place it in the center of your palm. You flatten your hand completely and hold it out in front of you, close to the ground so the squirrel would be able to reach it.

“Ugh, please don’t,” Regulus groans, looking away from what he assumes will be some sort of disaster.

To his surprise, he hears you giggle and tentatively looks back. Your hand is empty. The squirrel is sitting back on its haunches, bread chunk in his tiny hands being nibbled on. You slowly lean forward and run a gentle finger down the animal’s back. It doesn’t seem to mind, but Regulus is fairly certain it’s because the squirrel is too preoccupied with the food you had provided it. 

“One of these days you’re going to get bitten,” he warns, making you laugh. 

“From my experience and from what I've heard, I’m more likely to get a bite from a classmate.”

Regulus’ eyes go wide. “Who is going to bite you?”

“Junior fully threatened to before he got together with Evan.”

Regulus makes a face and then you both start laughing. 

“I don’t think that will stop him if he decides he wants to. Evan might bite you too.”

“And maybe a hungry Gryffindor if I get between them and breakfast?”

Regulus rolls his eyes. “As long as it’s not my brother. You might get rabies.”

“Are we sure that Junior doesn’t have that?”

“No.”

You start laughing harder than before. Somehow during your entire time outside, you never looked in Sirius’ direction and never saw him watching you.

tags: @2dloveshp, @yearninglustfully, @made-for-oliverwood, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @hisparentsgallerryy, @itsseaberri, @corawithfanfiction, @devilslittlehelper, @jllyunn

[capquinn]

need more dad quinn thoughts but during first time pregnancy🥺 like him being so worried all the time about everything and so so doting

AHHHH so in my head Quinn would absolutely try to be the chill, laid-back partner during your pregnancy because he knows how overwhelming everyone else can be. Your mother is calling daily to ask about doctor appointments. Your sister messaging you regularly asking how you’re feeling; whether you’re experiencing the same obscure symptom she had during her pregnancy. Your best friend’s sending articles and unsolicited advice. Even strangers in the grocery store feel the need to comment. So, Quinn makes it his mission to be your calm in the storm. So that his worry isn’t loud or stifling; but quiet, patient, woven into the background of everything he does.

He wouldn’t hover or make a big deal out of things. He’d just be there, always. Like, when you’re trying to wrangle the groceries into the car, and he casually steps in, saying, “I got it,” without even waiting for you to argue. Or when he notices you’re drinking less water than usual and wordlessly places a cold glass next to you on the couch. He’s not overbearing. He just … knows you.

But there’d be these little moments where his worry would peek through. Like the time you mentioned an ache in your back, something you brushed off as normal, but Quinn was already reaching for his phone. He tried to play it cool, but you caught the way his brows knit together as he scrolled through page after page, reading worst-case scenarios with increasing intensity.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” he said eventually, his voice even but his grip on the phone betraying the nervous energy bubbling underneath.

And yet, for the next twenty minutes, his eyes kept flicking to you, watching the way you shifted in your seat, clearly working himself into a quiet panic. It wasn’t until the logical part of his brain kicked in — the part that remembered your doctor’s reassurances, the prenatal books he’d pored over, the countless articles bookmarked on his phone — that he finally relaxed, his shoulders dropping as he set the phone aside. Even then, though, his hand found your knee, his thumb brushing absent circles as if to reassure himself you were perfectly fine.

And then there’s that night.

It’s late, so late, and you’re exhausted — but no matter how tired you are, sleep just won’t come. The baby is kicking, and not those sweet, fluttery movements from earlier in the pregnancy. These are full-on jolts, sharp enough to make you gasp, and every time you drift off, another kick pulls you right back. You’re tossing and turning under the covers, trying to find a position that might offer some relief, but it’s no use.

You’re on your side now, staring at the clock, when you feel Quinn stir beside you. His hand reaches out instinctively, brushing over your hip as he murmurs, half-asleep, “you okay?”

You hesitate for a second, not wanting to bother him, but another kick answers for you, and you let out a frustrated sigh. “I can’t sleep. She won’t stop kicking.”

His eyes open fully then, soft and a little concerned but still carrying that quiet calm that’s just so him.

“You want me to grab you something? Water? A snack?” His voice is low, warm, like he’s trying not to disturb the stillness of the night.

You shake your head, and he shifts closer, his breath warm against the quiet of the room.

When another sharp kick jolts you, Quinn presses another kiss to your shoulder, his hand still moving in those slow, steady circles, like he could soothe the baby through sheer determination.

“C’mere,” he murmurs softly, his voice low and steady.

He rests his head on your pillow, his nose brushing your shoulder as he presses a kiss there, warm and lingering. His arm slips under the covers, his hand finding your belly with the kind of ease that comes from months of instinct. The touch is gentle, his palm warm against your skin. He doesn’t say much — he knows words won’t stop the kicks — but he starts rubbing slow, soothing circles over your bump, his thumb brushing just below your ribs.

When another sharp kick jolts you, Quinn presses another kiss to your shoulder, his hand still moving in those slow, steady circles, like he could soothe the baby through sheer determination.

“Felt that one,” he mumbles, his lips brushing your skin, voice thick with sleep, almost slurring, but tinged with amusement, because of course your baby’s already got a personality, already making themselves known.

The kicks don’t stop right away but there’s something about him being there, about the quiet steadiness of his touch and the warmth of his hand, that makes it easier to deal with. Like somehow, he’s shouldering some of it just by being there. Your shoulders start to relax, the frustration you’ve been carrying all night melting into something softer. Something sweeter. It’s still not comfortable, but you’re not doing it alone, and that makes it bearable.

After a while, the baby settles, the kicks becoming gentler, more sporadic, and Quinn doesn’t move, doesn’t even consider rolling over, not even when your eyes grow heavy and you start to drift.

In the morning, he doesn’t mention it. He’s still Quinn, easy and unassuming, asking if you want pancakes like he wasn’t up half the night with you. But you catch the way his hand lingers a little longer on your bump when he kisses you goodbye, the way his smile softens when you tell him you finally got some sleep. It’s all there, in the quiet, subtle way he loves — steady and unwavering, just like him.

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER ELEVEN

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @slvt4her @uconnpazzi @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @ch12334 @wbb4l

warnings angst, allusions to sex, more julian mentions

kalena speakss 🪽! yall will hate me and thank me for this chapter, sorry :(

July 2025 — Hartford, Connecticut 

“Nuh uh! I’m standing next to Boogers, she was my senior!”

“She was everyone’s senior, she was here for too damn long.” Sarah responds, making the bunch of my former teammates laugh.

I don’t even bother to fight back. I didn’t realize how much I’d miss these girls until I was across the country. Connecticut has become home to me, five years of lessons and friendships that I’ll hold into forever. It’s my first time back in Connecticut since the national championship, and the feeling is unreal.

The amount of UConn jerseys is unreal, cheers each time I checked in, after every shot. It became normal to me, loudest crowds in LA, then Minnesota, and now Connecticut. My third home.

We all stand at center court at Mohegan Sun, all of my former teammates excluding Aubrey who’s in New York and Kaitlyn who’s in San Francisco.

We take the picture and everyone disperses, breaking into a multitude of conversations.

“So, we going out tonight? Like old times?” Ice is beaming at me, a smile fitting her face as she tugs me down with an arm around my neck. 

I chuckle. “I’m too damn old to be showing up at Ted’s again.” I mutter. My shoes squeak against the hardwood with each step I take to get out of her hold.

“No, not Ted’s, a different— that doesn’t matter. You coming? Please?”

I nod, tugging on the gatorade towel that accumulates the sweat around my neck. “Cam’s coming too.”

“Perfect! The more the merrier.”

—

The more the merrier was right.

The club was loud and fucking packed, from athletes to college kids, anyone that you could imagine. My leg bounces along to the music playing while Allie and Azzi talk about God knows what a few feet in front of me. The beer I’m drinking glides down my throat while I look around.

“This place is jumpin’.” I murmur to Caroline next to me.

She nods, the hair that frames her face swinging over her shoulder as she looks at me. “I know. Maybe you can get some play tonight.”

“You think I’m not gettin’ any in LA?” I laugh, taking another swig.

“I know you’re not getting any. I have my sources.”

I roll my eyes, spinning back around in my bar stool for another drink. 

There was definitely enough alcohol in my system. Tequila burning in my chest and a couple beers downed as well. I’m well beyond thinking straight, which to me is fine since we don’t play again for another two days.

“Lemme get a dirty shirley.” I tell the nice bartender who’s probably cringing at my alcohol breath.

“Can I get one of those too? And two shots of vanilla crown, please?”

The voice literally makes me freeze.

I know it well, so well, that I’m not even surprised when I look to my right and Nyla sits there with a smile towards the bartender. I haven’t seen her in what feels like years, even if the last time was in Tampa during the tourney.

She looks good. I mean, she always does. It’s why I let her walk all over me for so long. Why I kept going back no matter how much it hurt.

Nyla wears a blue corset top, it contrasts beautifully with her brown skin and cups her breasts in a way that drags my eyes down to them. Sober, I wouldn’t have paid her any mind. But right now my head is spinning and I can’t help it.

“Good to see you.” She feeds me a tight lipped smile.

I look over my shoulder at Caroline, who is no longer paying any attention to me.

“You look good, Ny.” I say through squinted eyes.

The bartender slides my drink to me over the table, her’s as well. And when Nyla picks up her drink, and her lips purse around the small black straw, my mind immediately goes to Maraye.

I haven’t thought about her in a while, not since she left my apartment. Yet, the second I look at Nyla I think of her. The way her hands, done up with pretty french tips, would wrap around the glass cup. Or the way she smiled at me when I bought her a drink that night in Atlanta.

I turn away, feeling the wood of the bar dug into my back as I watch Allie, and now Cameron and Caroline. They’re inebriated, definitely more than me, and dancing freely to Teenage Dream by Katy Perry. 

“You don’t wanna talk?”

“What’s there to talk about, Nyla.” The statement navigates through the air, and the second it reaches her ears she huffs.

“You’ve never been good at talking about things.” Nyla laughs.

I’m quick to scoff and take another hefty gulp of my shirley. “I’ve always been good at that. You just don’t seem to listen to me.”

We sit in an uncomfortable silence, her heal taps against the tiled floor in a rhythm I wish would stop.

“We should talk, P. About Tampa, about everything. You ghosted me the morning after.”

“And you ghosted me after I told you I had feelings for you.” I returned. “It was forever ago, Nyla. Move on.”

I see her down one of her shots before slamming the small glass down on the counter. She takes in a sharp breath of air, swiveling in her chair to look at me. Nyla’s upset. 

So many months of me getting angry, then realizing how badly I need her, then going right back. Countless times spent having sex with her rather than realizing how much I was letting myself go by just being around her.

She ruined me, and now that I’m not falling for it, she’s upset.

“Why’re you being such an ass about this?” She yells, the music drowns out the noise but I can still make out the bass in her voice. “It’s that bitch in LA, huh? That’s why you can’t talk to me?”

“Watch your fucking mouth.” I snap almost instantly.

It’s too often that I forget that Maraye and I aren’t the only two people in the world. That everyone around us still sees the way we look at each other or act around one another. 

We co-exist with everyone else. They are also affected by the shit we do. The things we say.

The way we kiss each other.

“Oh so she is your girlfriend?”

“You’on’t get to be mad about shit. I’m setting boundaries with you.” I say, refusing to bring Raye’s name up again and make things worse. I care about Maraye, obviously, and if I had to hear a girl who literally ripped my heart out of my chest and stomped on it repeatedly call her out of her name again, I might get suspended.

I finish what’s left of my vodka filled drink, mouth tasting of grenadine and tingling faintly from the sprite. 

“I want you, P. Y’know that.” Nyla hums. She’s so damn sadistic. She knows the exact way to get under my skin all the while turning my brain to mush for her.

“No you don’t.” I scoff. “You don’t know what you want, Ny. That’s why I ended all this shit.” 

This conversation is entirely reminiscent of the one I had with Raye earlier this week. Which makes me think that she didn’t do anything about the pressing Julian-situation.

Then I’m getting angry all over again. Pissed off that not only is the girl that I want is probably at home pillow talking her boyfriend, but that the girl I once was fucking helpless over is sitting in front of me telling me everything I want to hear from her. Not her–Nyla, her–Maraye.

Even though I have on shorts and t-shirt, my body still feels like I’m on fire as if I was wearing a full snow suit. The alcohol and combined anger has my brain running in laps, from Maraye to Nyla to the fucking flight I have to be on time for in the morning.

And it’s hard to keep it all intact with the way Nyla fucking looks at me. Like she hates me but there’s still a glint in her eye that reminds me of the first time we met. When I saw her in the stands sophomore year, her hair was short and brown with blonde streaks. She was everything then.

“Paige.”

“No, Nyla.”

But now, I don't even recognize her. Her voice sounds like a fever dream, or a fragment of my imagination.

“I can fix this.”

Her hand rests on my knee. I should jump or push her away but I just stare at it like an idiot.

My legs spread apart subconsciously, welcoming her between them. And I am an idiot, allowing her to stand in this place that I have decided belongs to Maraye. 

“Lemme fix it, P. Like old times.”

We’re at eye level like this. Her hand trailing up my thigh and to my shoulder. I need to push her away. Tell her to get off me, and then head back to the hotel. By myself.

But I can’t.

For whatever damn reason. I can’t.

—

July 2025 — Los Angeles, California 

I rock awkwardly on my heels, bottom lip tucked between my teeth so tight it might bleed.

My heart beats rapidly in my chest while I wait for the door to swing open. I can hear the hum of the air conditioning system blow through the hallway and the sound of my breaths coming out heavy and ragged.

The lock click echos when the door finally does pull open and there he stands. Hand stuffed in the pocket of his black dress pants. 

It’s crazy, that just months ago I was head over heels over this man. The sight of him like this would’ve sent me into orbit, but now it’s like he’s just here. Just another person in my world.

“We need to talk.” I stutter, eyes glued to him.

“Yeah.” Julian responds, turning around and walking into his apartment. He doesn’t close the door, leaving it open for me to follow him, I do so not forgetting to lock it behind me. 

“This needa be quick. I got a meeting.” He murmurs as we approach his bedroom. 

I haven’t been here in forever, and that’s totally and completely my own fault. I’ve been so damn avoidant. Sure I was always working, but I made time in my day to go see Paige or Rickea or my sister. But with Julian I just chose not to.

“That’s fine.” I say. “We uh, Ion think this is working, Ju.”

He hums, nodding and throwing on a button up shirt over his wife beater shirt.

I don’t even think he’s surprised, more content with the result. Like he expected this the second I rang his doorbell. Maybe even earlier than that.

“Damn.” It’s not a disappointing damn, quite the opposite actually.

“I’m sorry. I just— I can’t give you what you want. We’re one opposite ends of life right now, and I don’t wanna hurt you. Really.”

I don’t know how much is the truth and how much is meant to be a lie to get him to not talk about our last argument. I know I can’t give him what he needs, it’s not because of my alleged time management struggles. 

My heart wasn’t in it. Even if it wasn’t for Paige, I’d be calling it quits because I’m not into him the way I should be. She taught me that. The lengths I’d go to for someone I had feelings for, I simply don’t think I could do for him.

“That’s it? Y’just can’t make time for me?”

I huff at the undertone of his voice.

“Nah, this isn’t me arguing. You really think that?”

I nod. “Among other things, yes.” I can’t look at him. Because even though I think he doesn’t, Julian knows me well. He knows my tells and the way I react under pressure. “You deserve better than me, Julian.”

His cologne burns through the air when he sprits it out across his skin. I’m sure that the second I leave, that damned scent would be ingrained into my mind forever, I’d never forget it.

“And this has nothing to do with her?” 

Julian doesn’t look away from me for a second, staring holes into my soul that make me feel naked. My hands sweat, and I stuff them in the back pockets of my jeans.

I’d be dumb to stand here and keep lying. I’m already an idiot for thinking that everything would be peaches and cream after this. So I take a breath of air, which basically confirms any doubts Julian has running in his head.

“I— Ju.”

“I fuckin’ knew it. You sleepin’ with her?”

“No. No, Ju. She just— it’s so easy to be myself around her, and I feel like I'm always fighting to be myself with you.” I explain, partially trying to save my ass. “I dunno.”

“So that’s it. You cheat on me and think shit just gonna work out with her?”

“All I can control is this. We aren’t working, so we’re breaking up. That’s it, Julian.” I say, fully aware of how disgusted he looks with me right now.

Never in a million years did I think this shit could happen to me. I’m so conflicted, I don’t deserve whatever happy ending may come with Paige. I don’t deserve his forgiveness either, that’s for damn sure.

“Whatever.” Julian shrugs, walking out of the room with his shoes in hand. I follow behind him, trying to meditate the situation any way I can. It doesn’t work, as I expected.

He trots to the door, unlocking it again and pulling it open. He stands in the doorway, looking at me expectantly. His height looms over me as he waits.

Words form on my tongue and instantly die there. I shut my mouth, slipping through the corridor and hearing it slam behind me.

And for a brief second, I feel good. Like everything is going the way it’s supposed to.

Then the reality of it all hits me, and I feel like I want to run into a wall.

—

July 2025 — Hartford, Connecticut

My heartbeat rings in my ears while I make an attempt to catch my breath. 

Nyla lays next to me, sweaty and naked, and months ago I would’ve been completely enamored by the sight. But now I’m just fucking disgusted.

She’s gorgeous, always has been. That’s not the issue.

The issue is her lips don’t taste like that vanilla sweet cream I would always taste after being with Raye. It’s almost bitter, just pure alcohol.

I eagerly throw my legs off the side of the bed. We’re at her apartment, not too far from my hotel. I feel her stare into my back, piercing through me and suddenly I’m well aware of my own nakedness. I toss my bra followed by my shirt over my head before picking up my boxers and putting them on too. The bed shifts, dipping slightly before I feel her hand on my arms.

The events of the last hour have sobered me up tremendously, her hands that once were burning hot to the touch are suddenly freezing. Almost dead.

“Where you goin’?” Nyla asks. Her voice is raspy from the screaming of my name. It should make me feel good, as it always seems to no matter who I’m with.

This time it doesn’t.

I shrug her off of me standing up from the bed and searching for the rest of my clothes. My shorts, socks, shoes all scattered somewhere. I threw the hair tie that kept my hair in a ponytail somewhere too, and Nyla was definitely crazy enough to use it to make a clone of myself.

“Paige, I said—”

“I heard what you said. I’m getttin’ the fuck outta here.”

“You’re not doing this shit again.” She grumbles, pulling on her panties and trying to chase after me. Nyla grabs my arm as she spins me around, looking up at me while I stare up at the ceiling in an attempt to avoid her tits in my face.

“This was a mistake.” I explain, pushing her off of me and finally putting on my shorts. My shoes follow. “You and me are fuckin’ done. Ion know how many times I gotta say that for it to click in your damn head.”

“‘Cause you say shit like that and then come crawling right back!” She’s yelling now, and I can only imagine how irritated her neighbors have become with us. “You wanna act like you didn’t just fuck me? Or that you didn’t tell me you missed me.”

“I’m fucking drunk! That’s the only reason why I do any of this shit with you.” I yell, back. “Ion want shit to do with you, Nyla. I’m moving on.”

“Moving onto that ho, in LA? Is she better than me?”

“You got one more fuckin’ time to—” I cut myself off with a heavy breath, shaking my head and grabbing the rest of my belongings off her nightstand. “Get over it. We’re done. This is never, and I mean never, fuckin’ happening again.” I muse. I’m quick to rush out of the apartment, phone in hand, while I shut the door.

I feel dirty. Like I just committed a fucking felony and was on the run. 

The cool air finally hits me like a breath of fresh air when I finally touch the streets. My hotel wasn’t far, a block, maybe more, away.

I’m ashamed of myself, for going back to Nyla and falling for her dumbass words as if they meant something. They never did. 

Then it hits me.

Maraye.

I nearly stop in the middle of the street before picking up my pace and walking into the hotel building.

God knows what decision she’s made. She could be with Julian right now telling him everything he wants to hear. Or she could be waiting for me. To call her, to text her, to tell her that I miss her.

And believe it or not, I do. I fucking miss her crazy. Her voice and those gorgeous fucking eyes. The way she listens to me like I’m the only person left on Earth, like it’s just me and her. I miss her smell, the Chanel no.5 combined with some vanilla body spray that she almost always seemed to have on, that permanently left its mark on my nose and my soul. Everything about her being, I miss it like crazy.

I’m in the elevator, the hum of the gears and the corny ass elevator music that plays only leaves me with my thoughts. Feelings of disparity and fucking anger.

How could I be so stupid. All it took was a few drinks and a fucking glare and now I’ve made arguably the biggest mistake of my life.

My phone starts ringing when I pull out my key card. I stand in the hallway, flipping the device over and staring at it.

Her name, in bright and bold font with the anatomical heart emoji next to it. It’s so intimate, an emoji that I think I’ve only ever used in correspondence with her. The picture is recent, I changed it after she left my place that night. It’s the two of us seated on my couch, her head resting on my shoulder with her lips in that cute pout she does in almost all her photos. My eyes are red from sleep but I still keep a nose-scrunched smile on my face.

I catch myself just standing there, looking at her looking at me until the call goes to voicemail.

I’m glad that it does, because I know that if I were to pick up the phone and hear her voice as she talks I might break down.

I unlock the door, kicking my shoes off the minute the door closes. I rest my back against it, head tossed onto the white painted portal. 

Then my phone buzzes again.

i miss you. call me in the morning k?

I fucked up. Fucked it all up.

[idkyetxoxo]

Jacaerys Velaryon - Moth to a Flame

Summary - Bound by duty and trapped in a loveless marriage, her heart still belongs to Jace, the man she truly loves. The weight of her choices and the secrets she keeps threaten to tear her apart, while the tension between love and obligation grows unbearable.

Pairing - Jacaerys Velaryon x reader

Warnings - None

Word count - 2179

Masterlist for Jacaerys • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

'Cause he seems like he's good for you and he makes you feel like you should and all your friends say he's the one his love for you is true.

Jacaerys Velaryon had known from the moment he met me that I was the one.

His eyes held that quiet determination, a certainty that ran deeper than the tides that carried his bloodline, a certainty that defied logic.

It was as if the gods had whispered my name into his heart long before I even came into his life.

He didn't just see me—he understood me. There was something in his gaze that spoke of an unspoken promise, a bond that neither time nor circumstance could sever.

I felt it too, that inexplicable pull, that instant connection, as though fate itself had tied us together, long before we ever exchanged words.

From that first glance, my heart quickened in a way it had never done before as if it had been waiting for him all along.

I had heard of Jace long before we met. Stories of his valour, his grace in the air as a dragon rider, the weight of his lineage as a Velaryon, and his close connection to the Targaryen bloodline.

But none of the tales prepared me for the man himself.

The way his presence filled a room, not with arrogance, but with quiet strength. His every movement seemed deliberate as if each step he took was a dance between duty and desire.

There was no hesitation in him, no room for doubt. When he looked at me, I knew—I was his choice, not because he was told to make it, but because he wanted me, needed me.

In his eyes, I was not just a woman; I was the woman, the one who could match his fire with my own.

But life had always been cruel to Jace. It seemed as though the gods themselves took pleasure in denying him the happiness he deserved, casting obstacle after obstacle in his path.

From birth, he had been burdened with the expectations of his lineage, the whispers about his legitimacy, the constant reminder that despite his rightful claim to power, there were always those ready to question it.

His life had been a series of sacrifices, always doing what was expected, what was demanded.

And when it came to love, fate was no kinder.

It was not love or desire that would ultimately shape our paths—it was politics, a game played by those far removed from the human cost of their decisions.

I was promised to another before I could even comprehend what love truly meant.

To his uncle, Aegon.

Aegon, who was born with every privilege but none of the grace that should accompany it. Aegon, whose every action seemed to serve himself rather than the realm.

To him, I was just another acquisition, a pretty thing to claim and parade. He never tried to know me, never even bothered to see me as anything more than a symbol of power.

My hand in marriage was his prize, but my heart was something he would never possess.

How could he, when he didn't even attempt to understand the woman he had taken as his wife?

I would have endured it all—the cold indifference, the suffocating weight of being bound to someone I could never love—but now, I was trapped even deeper.

I was pregnant. Aegon's child. His legacy was growing inside me, sealing my fate forever.

The idea of it felt like chains tightening around my wrists, pulling me further into a life I had never wanted.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

The hall was brimming with life that night, yet it felt suffocating, like a cage woven from silk.

The air was thick, cloying with the scent of spiced wine and perfumed candles that clung to my skin like unwanted caresses.

Laughter bubbled around me, but it felt distant, muffled, as if I stood at the bottom of the sea, drowning in the weight of expectation.

Even the candlelight seemed dim, flickering uncertainly, like the fragile hope I still held onto. The low hum of courtiers sounded around me all gathered to celebrate Aegon's latest achievement.

A title bestowed upon him by the King himself, something hollow like "Lord of the Realm's Peace."

Everyone knew he was no bringer of peace. He had done nothing to earn the title except exist as the heir.

The court was filled with false praise, their cheers hollow, just as hollow as the man they celebrated.

Aegon stood there, basking in the adulation as if he had single-handedly won a great battle. His smirk stretched across his face as though he had conquered nations.

But all he had conquered was me—through politics, through duty.

I sat beside him, a hollow smile plastered on my face, though my heart was far from here. My hands rested protectively over my stomach, hiding the secret that only I knew.

I felt the subtle signs, the tightening of my ribs, the unspoken changes within me.

Soon enough, everyone would know. Soon enough, this prison I was already in would become one I could never escape.

My future was no longer my own, tied not just to Aegon, but to the child that grew within me.

"Another toast!" Aegon shouted, his voice thick with the slur of too much wine. "To my beautiful wife, who will no doubt give me a strong son—soon enough."

He winked at me, and the room erupted in laughter. I felt the eyes of the court on me, appraising, judging, already imagining the son that would be born of our union.

They had no idea of the storm inside me, the turmoil of being trapped in a life I despised.

My smile faltered, but I forced it back into place.

Across the table, Jace sat silently, his dark eyes burning into me. He hadn't touched his cup all evening, his hands clenched into fists as if trying to contain the fury he felt. He knew.

He had always been able to see through me, to sense the turmoil beneath the surface.

His anger simmered just beneath the surface, not just at Aegon, but at the fate that had brought us to this place, this moment, where the lives we had dreamt of were slipping further out of reach.

His gaze flickered to Aegon, then back to me. A question lingered there, unspoken but clear. How long will you let him claim you?

"Are you not pleased, my love?" Aegon leaned in close, his voice lowering in mock concern, though there was nothing genuine in his tone.

His fingers brushed my arm, cold and possessive, sending a shiver of revulsion through me. "You seem... distant tonight."

"Perhaps I haven't been giving you enough attention." His lips curled into a smirk, and I forced myself to meet his gaze, even though it took every ounce of strength not to flinch away.

His face was flushed from drink, the wine staining his lips, his eyes glazed over with self-satisfaction.

"I am tired," I whispered, my voice barely more than a breath. "It has been a long evening."

Aegon waved a dismissive hand. "Tired! You're always tired." His lips curled into a smirk.

"Perhaps you need more rest." He leaned in, his breath warm and sour against my ear. "Soon enough, you'll be resting plenty—with my heir in your belly."

The words sent a chill down my spine, and I had to swallow the bile that rose in my throat. He didn't know the truth yet, but he could feel it. The claim he would have over me, over my body, once the child was born.

There would be no escape then.

No more stolen moments with Jace, no more dreams of what might have been.

As the evening wore on, I found an opportunity to slip away. The hall had grown louder, the courtiers more raucous with drink and merriment.

I sought solace in the shadows, slipping out of the bustling crowd and toward the tall windows that overlooked the darkened gardens. I pressed a hand to my stomach, the life inside me already feeling like a prison.

The weight of it threatened to crush me, to drown me in despair.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jace's voice came softly from behind me, but it cut through the silence like a blade.

I didn't turn to face him. I couldn't bear to see the anguish I knew was there.

"What was I supposed to say, Jace?" My voice trembled, betraying me. "That I am carrying the child of a man I hate? That I am trapped in this marriage forever?"

He stepped closer, his presence a storm at my back. "I would've taken you away," he said, his voice tight with emotion. "We could have left—before it was too late."

I finally turned to him, tears stinging my eyes. "And gone where? To what end? We would be hunted, disgraced. Aegon would never stop until he had us both dead."

I pressed a hand to my stomach, the gesture feeling like both a confession and a condemnation. "And now... there's no escape."

Jace's face contorted with rage, with grief. His fists clenched at his sides, and for a moment, I thought he might hit something or someone.

"This isn't how it was supposed to be," he muttered, his voice thick with pain. "You were supposed to be mine."

I stepped toward him, desperate to touch him, to feel the comfort I knew only he could provide, but I stopped myself.

Reality crashed down between us, a barrier I could never break. "I was yours, Jace. I still am, in every way that matters."

But his eyes darkened with bitterness. "But you carry his child. His blood will live inside you forever."

"I didn't choose this!" I cried, the words spilling out of me, hot and raw. "You think I don't hate it too? Every day, I lose a piece of the life we could have had. But what can I do? There's no way out now. I am bound to him, bound to this child, forever."

Jace's gaze flickered to my stomach, his expression torn between love and despair. "And what of the child? Do you even want it? Do you love it?"

The question struck me like a dagger.

I swallowed hard, trying to gather my thoughts, but the truth clawed at my throat, refusing to be silenced.

"I don't know," I admitted, my voice breaking. "How can I love something that represents everything I've lost?"

The silence between us stretched painfully, heavy with the weight of everything we could never say aloud.

Finally, Jace spoke again, his voice barely more than a whisper. "And Aegon... does he know? Does he know that you still dream of me, that you think of me every time he touches you?"

Tears spilt down my cheeks. "No. He's blind to it all. He thinks he owns me. But he doesn't know where my heart truly lies."

Jace's hand reached for mine, and for a fleeting moment, I allowed myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, we could still defy the odds. But before his fingers could touch mine, a sharp voice shattered the moment.

"There you are."

Aegon's voice, thick with drink, cut through the air like a blade. He approached us, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.

Jace's hand still hovered near mine, and I saw the suspicion flare in Aegon's eyes. He smiled, but there was nothing kind in it.

"I was wondering where my wife had wandered off to," he said, his voice laced with malice. He wrapped his arm around my waist possessively, pulling me close.

His fingers dug into my skin, cold and possessive. "You've been talking to my nephew, I see."

I stiffened in his grasp, the air between us thick with unspoken tension. I opened my mouth to speak, to explain, but Aegon's laughter cut me off.

"No need to explain," he said, his tone mocking. "We're all family here, aren't we, Jace?"

Jace's eyes burned into mine, but his face remained impassive as he stepped back.

"Of course," he said, his voice strained. "I was merely congratulating your wife. She is... radiant tonight."

Aegon's smile widened, his eyes gleaming with triumph. "Radiant, indeed. And soon, she'll give me the son I've been waiting for."

His words were a death sentence.

They sealed my fate as surely as any chains could. And as Aegon led me back into the hall, his arm still wrapped around me, I glanced back at Jace one last time.

His eyes followed me, filled with a longing that mirrored my own. We were both trapped, prisoners of a world we had never wanted, bound by duty and blood.

And as I was pulled further into the crowd, I knew that the life I had dreamed of with Jace was lost forever.

But does he know you call me when he sleeps? But does he know the pictures that you keep? But does he know the reasons that you cry? Or tell me, does he know where your heart lies?

Where it truly lies.

A/n - Abel does things to me, his music is just 🤌🏼

[missmarveledsblog]

Never doubt the Matchmaker ( jake seresin x reader )

Summary : nat phoenix trace was well known by her friends and coworkers as being a excellent matchmaker although jake seresin thinks it all bullshit till he finally let her set him up and jake learns never to doubt the matchmaker ...

warnings : goofy , fluffy , miscommunication sort of rom com feel to it , picture doesn't describe the reader just cover art i started making for fics

Natasha trace  was a woman of many talents , she was strong , determined , and calculated . all good qualities that made her one of best female pilots but she also had another talent one that didn't even remotely have to do with the navy and it was her match making skills . when she disclosed the information it got laughs  , didn't bother her she laughed along with them .  then one by one it would start off joking then hinting to outright asking. first it was fanboy then bob then javy then rooster. only one she didn't get asked by was payback giving the man was already married and jake who still thought it was all  crock .  she didn’t really concern herself with what bagman had to say the results spoke for themself .  fan boy was living with the barista she set him up with , bob was married to the animal shelter volunteer , javy was still going strong with the yoga instructor while  rooster only began seeing the nurse it was still good and boy was he already gone . the results spoke for themselves as always but jake still a skeptic , still ready to shoot it all down of course . 

“ he’s just afraid of finding the one is all “ rooster laughed .

“ i mean i don’t doubt your skill but hangman finding the one is a bit far fetched “ bob shook his head amused in the constantly denial of the match making but in fairness they all were  til she did her thing. 

“ don’t worry bagman i wouldn’t subject any woman to deal with you “  phoenix rolled her eyes . 

“ because its not working i mean rooster would fall in love with a rock” he countered as the brunette exclaimed out a “ hey “ 

 “ why does it bother you so much , you feeling left out , a little lonely “ she taunted . 

“ never lonely phoenix i can get a girl to keep me warm at night any time” he winked  taking his shot potting the ball . 

“ why don’t you let her set you up then “ bob suggested . 

“ he’s right you think it’s fake then prove it “ javy added . 

“ ain’t you suppose to be on my side here?” 

“ come on man what have you got to lose”  rooster smirked . 

“ you know what i’ll bit just to show you i’m right” he crossed his arms looking to the female pilot.

“Fine  i’ll set you up bagman “ nat shook her head . 

It had been weeks since the whole agreement in the hard deck and jake constantly being the one to let her know the fact . then like an angel to answer all there prayers she found the one , the one that would have jake seresin eating his words .  then one day during lunch jake was looking at text of details for a date saturday . he promised to give the woman a chance   , knowing full well it would end like all his dates do  and that part wasn’t so bad .  He’d gotten the womans number striking up a conversation , she could least do that only thing was when he asked for selfie she would reply later , later never came then it was “ i forgot next” which didn’t fill him with much fate but still keeping his word he continues to chat . saturday he was on the beach  a regular tradition now playing dog fight football as the guys asked about his  date. 

“ i mean we text but no selfies so not promising “ he called as nat shook her head. 

“ she hot bagman not that it matters “ she rolled her eyes . 

“ all chicks say there friends are hot , i’m just being honest” he smirked . 

“ not al about looks “ rooster pointed out . 

“ says the guy with the hot nurse girlfriend , you telling me if she wasn’t attractive to you in the smallest bit you would be with her ?” he asked . 

“ yeah because of the person , she is” . 

“ again not that it matters but y/n is a hotty and well able to handle you “ nat scoffed . 

“ yeah we’ll see about that phoenix”. 

When he got home  still texting his date asking her what she was going to wear so he would be able find her .  all he got back was long red dress probably something a grandma would wear  he didn’t know why but that was what he thought . then he got ready   thinking the worse as time got closer , like it was set up in a different way , a ploy for phoenix to get back at him and set him up with some lady that had twenty cars the generic mad woman crossing his mind .  he could slip out early that was for sure  although javy was telling him it would be ok also agreed to call with fake emergency. He was glad he agreed to meet somewhere else because if this was a trick least there would be no witnesses that was for sure . checking over least he looked good   as he looked down at his dress pants that fit snugly on his legs of the light blue almost whitish blue shirt that made his chest and arms look great . he was ready to prove natasha trace wrong and make a  lady happy to get the jake seresin experience . he was sure it was going to be a disaster , some sort of catfish situation even though he had yet to she her face expectations were not high. He stood outside  the bar it was classy  place so who he thought he would meet would stand out a mile off already building an image of some desperate woman .   parking and taking one look at his phone both message one to tell him she was at the bar and another from javy to have good time but he was also on standby if needed . heading in there was one woman at the bar in a red dress , long that stopped at her shins , her long legs crossed with a pair of black open toed heels   , spagetti string straps as she looked around she was gorgeous. Maybe if his  date failed he could ? . 

She couldn’t believe she let natasha trace do her whole match maker thing knowing how it was going to fail , from texting the guy it was ok nothing special didn’t seem like he was into it either so least she wouldn’t be the only one who was going to go into it with less expectations , plus she could only imagine what she was going to meet not that she didn’t find  nat’s flyboy friends attractive because they were but they lacked a little something  .  she herself worked as a mechanic not as glorious or as dangerous as  the navy but she and nat bonded over being in a male dominated area even still she was confused as the receptionist . now here she was sitting waiting for some stranger  when she could be in her shop finishing the shit ton of cars that needed to be fixed but maybe a few drinks would be ok  , help take the busy week off her shoulders . one so busy she kept forgetting to send a selfie and then she thought it would be more fun to keep the mystery going . she text him to let him know he was at the bar barely flickering her gaze  when he text to say  he was outside well here it was. 

“ showtime “ she winked to the bartender downing the drink waiting for whatever disaster  that was coming her way . 

“Erm y/n “ the  southern drawl clear his throat she turned to raise her hand. 

“ over here” she smiled ok , so he wasn’t tragic looking maybe it was shallow but hey he was gorgeous blonde so she wasn’t complaining . 

“ well darling nice to meet you “ he beamed , he’d give nat this one she was the hotty at the bar . 

“ jake?  Nice to meet you too “ she held her hand out almost swallowed in his own , lifting it to his lips and kissing her hand .

“ what are you drinking ?” he nudged . 

“ just beer , southern boy huh” her own accent coming out more as she talked . 

“ austin born and raised , you ?” he took the seat  noting the slight disappointed glance of bartender since he came over. 

“ dallas , would you like to go sit down and get some food because i for one am hungry ?”  

“ lead the way beautiful whatever you want it on me “  he beamed holding his hand out and letting her take him anywhere and it would be anywhere damn she was like a siren luring him to sea .  following the sway of her hips like they were personal hypnotizing him and maybe they were , pulling the seat out putting the full gentlemen charm because shit she had him hooked with her body already . 

“ so jake from austin what made you ask nat for her skills “ she asked looking up  ever the gentlemen pulling her chair out and pushing it in for her as she looked up through her lashes at the blonde . 

“ honest answer?” to which she nodded .  “ honestly i wanted to see if she was good as other say kinda a skeptic but maybe not so much “ he winked as her  head tipped back and wondrous sound of her laugh came out. 

“ oh my god same i only agreed because she set my cousin up with ostrich , duck some bird dude “ she laughed . 

“ rooster?” 

“ YES !  i haven’t met him yet but my cousin  ironic dove is singing his praise then when she told me she got a perfect match not gonna lie since your being honest and all but i said no for while stuff at works been well hectic “ she shook her head. 

“ what is you do , you never said in your texts plus you owe me a selfie or two “ he teased . 

“ a mechanic actually while other girls where playing with barbies i was playing with tools and hotwheels i’m only girl of a bunch of boys so i guess when i wanted to be one of them safe to say my mom was little let down to say the least “ she chuckled . 

“ i’m only boy of bunch of girls i’m second born though “ 

“I’m the baby  , i’m actually working in a shop owned by my two older brothers and top at my job not as exciting as being a aviator for the navy though” she winked . 

“ nah i’m impressed least i know if my truck ever  has trouble i know who will take care of it for me” he smirked leaning forward honestly he hated how much he was going to be hearing nat gloat because he was already hooked  this woman was perfect although she was a decade younger but fuck she was making him feel like a teenager.

The date was good he laughed a lot she was funny , she seemed interested in knowing him and   kept the conversation light nothing was felt pushed or awkward . it was perfect date  he hated he would have to tell phoenix  as much he didn’t want that night to end ,  they even made out in the back of his truck  so why was it two days after the date and everything was radio silent . only thing that he was told was she got home safe and would contact him again .  he never had that much fun on a date especially one that didn’t end in sex , he wanted to be respectful , he also didn’t wanna text and come off desperate so he was wondering what hell went wrong .  maybe he could ask nat and swallow his pride at the fact she was good but clearly not good if he was ghosted . 

She wondered what went wrong did she come on too  strong , did he not like her .  the date was perfect and yet she never  got text back after she told him she got home safe .  it was all good even making out in the back of his truck til he stopped it now she was slightly annoyed he ghosted her .  burying herself in the overflowing work she could of been doing instead  when the familiar sound of an engine . to see natasha trace coming her way all smile probably ready to hear about how it all went . 

“ i’m mad at you “ y/n huffed tying her hair up before diving back into the hood of the corvette that needed dire attention.  

“ what did he do ?” she groaned now holding the coffee she brought like a peace offering instead of an early celebration . 

“ ghosted me  , i thought we had a great time  , even made out in his stupid truck and boom nothing even when i offered him to follow me “ she grumbled looking up . 

“ wait what javy said jake had great time i was here to rub it in both of you “ . 

“ well i’ll do that rubbing in your matchmaking skill ain’t all that .. but i love you and you didn’t know this was gonna happen so i guess i ain’t actually mad at you… my vagina might be “ she laughed finally taking the coffee. 

“ i’m gonna find out what going on cause something is  not adding up “ nat brows furrowed as she head off ignoring the protest that came from y/n mouth . 

She couldn’t make sense of it , according to javy he was smitten  like really smitten so what the hell was going on .  she knew y/n was younger than jake by ten years was that it but then she was thinking jake would date younger than himself maybe not that gap but again it didn’t seem to bother him . it wasn’t even to do with the match making anymore ..ok maybe it was could that be it , he was ghosting y/n in his own need to be right.  Now she was pissed  as she drove a little faster ,  parking her car and storming down the halls. She didn’t even look at the guys when she got to jake staring up , eyes narrowed  and hands on hips . 

“ what is your problem how come your ghosting y/n ,  she said she had a great time with you and what  is it your need to be right because that fucked if you don’t like her least be a man and tell her “ she gritted . 

“ what are you talking about  , she ghosted me nat  she should grow up and tell you the truth “ he scoffed . 

“ she looked upset although she wouldn’t show it …  she thinks you don’t like her she offered  her place ?” nat said even more confused .

“ believe it or not i was being a gentlemen because i actually did like the her.. The date “ he corrected pulling his phone out to show the fact he ended up texting her couple times . 

“ oh you stupid man , it concerning your still flying that not her the name is similar but you’ve been texting another woman no wonder she didn’t answer … idiots “ she scoffed as jake looked at his phone he didn’t even realize that name was still in his phone  he just saw the first three letters and was currently cursing the device in his hand .  it all connecting in his mind only for rooster to say it all out loud. 

“ shit you actually ghosted her after all” .

“ where she work  cause she not gonna believe me if i text her now ?” he asked chasing after nat  who honestly was done with life at the moment. 

“ if i  tell you , you gotta wear a shirt that says i was right for three nights of my choosing in hard deck ?” nat mused even though she was gonna help him either way but didn’t mean she couldn’t have fun too . 

“ you know what i’ll let you have six , come on “ he pleaded  ready to dart out knowing he’s morning was free . 

“  don't make me regret this “ nat smirked texting the address . “ make sure you check the right message “ she called as he ran off flipping her off . 

 he didnt know what it was but he was hooked on this girl like some sort of spell was cast on him  . he usually didn't bother texting after the fuck boy tendency  was strong he knew it himself but shit he was so disappointed and turned out to be his fault his fuckboy ways or some sort of self sabotage  .  already losing something so good before it even started he wanted to delete all the contacts in his phone maybe change his number start a new leaf. He was just hoping he wasn’t too late as he got into his truck nat sent another message telling him  the  coffee and baked good  peace offering to bring  as well as his size  maybe he would wear the shirt  an extra night for that. It was a race for what he didn’t know but he wanted to find out.   

She was tired but finally she gotten on top of the overflow of repairs  ones even her brothers were impressed she managed to pull of maybe the frustration of being ghosted was working in her favor , she was ready to grab her coat and head out . 

“ hey kiddo truck coming in can you sort this while i sort something in the office” her brother mikey called . 

“ you gotta be shitting me i’m heading out deal with it yourself” she scoffed. 

“ do it and i’ll give you rest of week off and next week  paid and overtime?” he said holding phone to his ear . 

“ fine after this i’m out for a week and half   “ she rolled her eyes throwing her things down tying her hair up . 

“ yeah she going  i think a date would be a good payment huh trace” he chuckled heading into the office. 

She was huffing and puffing but hey time of and extra money she could be happy with , what she wasn’t happy with was a tall blonde aviator standing by the truck . 

“ we’re closed” 

“ says your open “ he nodded to the neon sign. 

“ busy should of called a head.. Or do you have a phone?” she scoffed hand on her hip  , burning hole in his head with the fiery gaze she had on him . 

“ can we talk please ? i got your favorites here” he held up the container. 

“ you could of talked to me before , my brother is in there i will not hesitate to get the bat from his car “ 

“  hear him out … heres your stuff and thanks for screwing up so i can get a date with nat “ mikey called placing her stuff at the door before heading in and locking the door . 

“ traitor “ she mumbled taking her bag and  only see her car keys missing . “ son of a bitch “ she grumbled .  But it wasn’t going to get her down  no come hell or nothing she would walk her ass home . so she did turning out away completely not even sparing the blonde a second look or care if he was following her or not. 

“ come on please let me explain “ jake called. 

“ explain nothing if nat sent you here tell her it’s all good “ she waved over her shoulder not only was  she pissed she was no embarrassed thinking he owned her explanation .  which he did but one of his own violation and not one her friend force him to make .   she heard his booths hitting the asphalt , she could hear the panting  behind her shaking her head she kept walking . 

“ come on please” 

“ you ghost me , i practical ask you to sleep with me i thought you were doing the whole gentlemen thing  but turned out you just didn’t like me which is fine i mean not everyone gonna like me but shit when are guys gonna be honest and be like look i ain’t feeling it   or some shit “ she snapped not caring about the group of guys walking by .  

“ dude you blind “ one commented as she just groaned walking past them all . 

“ hey hey  i did want to ok and i was trying to be a gentlemen , i wanted to take you in backseat of the pickup if i could “ he yelled only instead of the group of guys passing it was a group of elderly women . 

“ pig “ one scoffed as they hurried passed. 

“ i thought you ghosted me ok …i maybe even worse asshole to admit that i was texting the wrong number because the names were similar which i’m going to have to text that person the same thing cause i’m pretty sure she married now” he winced as she finally stopped walking . 

“ you want me believe and if i did it worse that it was a mistake dude it ok we didn’t click i mean i thought we did … oh shit “ she said as he held his phone up showing her the messages her name but the contact was similar . “ is it safe for you to be flying “ she asked .

 “ yes i  made a dumb mistake but my eyesight is fine “ he snorted shaking his head nat previous statement . 

“ so you didn’t ghost me ?” she blinked up slightly  still trying to piece the new information slightly relieved since lets be real being ghosted is never fun . 

“ i didn’t ghost you be a fool to  ,  if  your in a forgiving mood since i cleared it up would you maybe wanna go on another date ?” he stood not the usually confident or cocky way he was used to he was almost shy when asking a definite new feeling that he would ( would not ) out loud . 

“ i guess since you got me a week and half off work i could least do that “ biting her lip , wanting to kick herself at the urge to twirl her hair in her finger like some smitten school girl . 

“Well then lets get going “ he winked wrapping his arm around her only for the same group of guys from before walking by looking barely 16 . 

“ dude kiss her “ one  not so hushed whisper yell  . 

“  man i was gonna ask her out” another whined. 

“ y’all watching this whole time ?” she snorted while jake was looking like the cat that got the cream having her at his side . 

“ tiktok was done … if things don’t work out with old man  heres my number” the guy winked as jake took the piece of paper instead . 

“She wont need it son “ was all jake could say leading her back towards the shop , back where his truck was least if her brother was doing him the solid he could have a small drive thru  date . he was new to it all actually wanting to see the one person actively and exclusive ( not that he told her , he wasn’t bradshaw ) but he was willing to show it in future .  He also learned never to doubt nat and her matching making skills again well how could he went he was going to be wearing the visual proof .

[memorys-skyscraper]

since folks seemed interested, here are some unused and uncommon mid-duty voice lines for the ancients + meteion from shadowbringers & endwalker (most are uncommon/hard to trigger but some are entirely unused)

transcription & notes below

Hades/Emet-Selch (The Dying Gasp): "By His grace will darkness reign over all." "Death comes for Her servants." "I shall rebuild our kingdom upon your bones!" "Abomination! You seek to shatter my soul?"

Warrior of Light/Elidibus (Seat of Sacrifice): "Hah, it matters not who comes to your aid."(1) "Clad in prayer, I am invincible!"(2)

Hydaelyn (The Mothercrystal): "By force unrelenting!" "A change of arms- mark well my movements." "Flee. You have been found wanting."(3)

Venat (Trust): "Quite..."(4) "Ugh, this is nothing..."(4) "A poor showing..."(4) "Confound it all..."(5) "I was unprepared..."(5) "No... I can't afford to..."(5) "I will do better."(6) "It isn't over yet."(6) "I'm in your debt."(6) "Open your eyes, now."(7) "I will tend your wounds."(7) "Your journey isn't over yet."(7) "Stand firm."(8) "Stay the course."(8) "Mayhap this will help."(8) "Let death's judgement be stayed!"(9) "Let life flow ever abundant!"(10)

Emet-Selch (Trust): "Another fine mess..."(4) "This is going swimmingly..."(4) "Would someone hurry up and heal me?"(4) "Pre...posterous..."(5) "Couldn't... get any worse...?"(5) "If only I could... transform...!"(5) "I do have an image to uphold."(6) "Time to repay the debt."(6) "Slow. A sound choice, but slow."(6) "Steady now."(7) "What a bother."(7) "Look alive."(7) "Oh, very well."(8) "Pay attention, now."(8) "Don't waste this."(8) "On my seat's honor, I shall protect all!"(9)

Hythlodaeus (Trust): "Not quite as planned..."(4) "I've had better days..."(4) "Some healing, if you would."(4) "End of my tether..."(5) "I knew this wasn't my forte..."(5) "Take care of the rest, will you?"(5) "Oh, you shouldn't have! ...No, really."(6) "What, already?"(6) "Well... back to it, I suppose."(6) "As you were."(7) "Are you alright?"(8) "Pain, pain, go away."(8) "Ooh, interesting." "I have a proposal." "Let's make a little something." "Hope this works."(11) "Who, me? You can't be serious."(11)

Meteion (The Dead Ends): "The more its people fought to live, the further the plague spread..." "...for altruism and selfishness both were its carriers." "...for naught could be done to stop the spread."(12)

Endsinger (The Final Day): "'Tis so lonely between the stars... battered by the husks of the dead and dying."(13)

Themis/Elidibus (Pandaemonium 11): "I learned this technique from a dear friend!" "Long have I dreamed of the day that we match wits... but every dream must come to an end!"(3) "My deepest desire..."

1. based on file order, this was likely meant to play as an initial reaction to the mid-fight summoning, to be followed by "You...! It cannot be...!" upon recognizing Emet

2. if you attempt to DPS LB while he's not casting/in the middle of something else, he'll say this and use Hallowed Ground to invuln through the LB

3. enrage quote for extreme/savage

4. low health

5. death

6. just raised

7. raising someone else

8. healing someone else or invulning (for tanks)

9. tank LB (unused)

10. healer LB (unused)

11. DPS LB (used but Hythlodaeus REALLY doesn't like to LB so including LB1 and LB2 here)

12. all are alternate/unused lines for the first area of The Dead Ends

13. "'Tis so lonely between the stars..." is used, but "battered by the husks of the dead and dying" is not

[shyamanuensis]

The Grief of Gaunt

“I miss you.”

The storms brewing viciously in the skies still remind me of your eyes. The grey wash on tombstones that surround me with names I’m not familiar with a comfort while I sit here and cry. My tears are akin to a symphony overture which only just rivals sound of your voice. A remembrance of each carefully selected, eloquently spoken word we’re share lost in the privacy of our own little world. You were always telling me about how nothing was ever permanent. ‘It’s all temporary my dear.’ I wish you were still here to be corrected. Permanency is something I still struggle with. I’m happy to admit it. Of misery. Of grief. Of love, now lost.

“It gets easier my dear.”

Dealing with October 12th really hasn’t. I dread the date, even this many years on. What I would give for one last touch, one last embrace; one last opportunity to spill to you the truth about what you really meant to me. All the words I should have said. The concoction of nearly mentioned thoughts have been since smothered by silence. They are of not use anymore. You had always prompted me to just go with my gut – say what I thought, how I felt, what I wanted. Regrets a funny thing. You always were one to tell me that I shouldn’t live life with the possibility of regret yet every decision I ever made; ever choice I ever faced, brought me closer to the life I’d always wanted but now couldn’t have. The solemn, earnest secrets I’ve still got under lock and key burn away in journals unread; in the back of my head – it all feels like a waste.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You lied. I didn’t think you were capable of it. I swore black and blue and cursed your name before I really knew. It seemed that the sunlight of that morning never came outside to play. A darkness weaved looking to loom anyplace happiness tried to hide. My eyes were tightly shut. Burning. Desperate to rewind time and go back only moments before Sebastian had arrived at my door to deliver the news. It wasn’t fair on him. Not to carry this burden. Chagrin. I could tell by his expression that he’d never heard a scream like he had on that day before. Of anger. Of volatility. Of loneliness. Pure sorrow. It was the first and only time I’d ever seen him cry.

“Just stay a little longer.”

My bed is still cold without you. I don’t think I’ve slept a full night since the day you were taken away. Nightmares whisper careless lullabies to me each night and are forever fighting me in my dreams. I haven’t bothered to clean up the bedside table. Empty water glass and the last book we read together still sit there. Untouched. Wishful. Yearning for another chance to bring a comfort I don’t think they could share. Every breath is heavy. Each goodnight murmured and met by the reply of only silence. I hate this, I hate being alone. I hate what you’ve done to me. I hate, I hate, I hate, I hate, I hate you. No, I could never hate you. I just hate that I need to go on without you.

“Forever Ominis?” “Always.”

 You said it was rare to meet someone with a mind just as beautiful as their face. That sometimes, you’d have to lose yourself in order to find what you really need. I know there’s something in my heart for you that will only ever die once I do and until we meet again – wherever that may be. I love you. I miss you. I love you.

Needed some sap and sadness in my life to balance out any form of happiness I had today. Inspiration pulled out of the head of the lovely @eva-fitzgerald thank you, thank you, thank you once again. Hope everyone enjoys the read xo

[ripdragonbeans]

Love In The Darkest Of Places // Modern!Aemond x Reader

Chapter 4: Freedom

Summary: You and Aemond are in college now, which presents itself with its own new challenges. One you didn't expect, however, was cutting off your family.

TW: unhealthy family dynamic

Masterlist

Chapter 3 // Chapter 5

The thought of jeopardizing your relationship with Aemond was too scary to even consider. As much as you wanted to say yes, to be his, you knew there was no way to guarantee you would stay together. At least with this friendship there was no way of messing it up. Or at least you hoped. Your heart and soul yearned for him but your brain was terrified. The risk that came with being in a serious relationship was too great, according to your brain. Your heart and soul said to hell with it, to jump into the deep end, but in the end you were too afraid.

For the rest of high school that’s how you two were: best friends. Never once did either of you waver. Not once did either of you date. There was an unspoken arrangement that you would wait for each other. Of course, since Aemond made his move after that regrettable double date, it would be up to you.

“Do you wish we could be together?” you asked him one night. You were spending the night in his dorm room. It wasn’t the first time you’ve asked the question.

“You know my answer,” Aemond replied, never looking away from the television screen.

It was movie night and as per usual, you stayed in his dorm. High school seemed so far away yet it was almost as though it was yesterday. The double date with Cregan had always stayed in your mind. That Monday afterwards did, too. 

“I feel like I'm playing you,” you admitted to Aemond. 

“If you actually were, I don't think you'd be worried about it.” He looked at you and smiled. “I'll wait however long and if we only stay friends then that's okay too. You're my best person in the world. Together forever, remember?”

“Yeah, together forever.”

Silence.

“What if…” you started, “what if there's someone else out there for you?”

“The only person I want is you. If someone else finds me then maybe you ran out of time.”

“What if… what if I find someone else?” 

“Then I'll let you go. I'll do whatever to make you happy.” Aemond reached for your hand and squeezed it. He looked out the dorm window. “It's getting late. Do you want me to walk you back to your house or?” He left the question hanging.

“I think I'll go back to my house alone” you replied. It hurt your heart to leave him but you did so anyway.

Aemond’s face fell when you gave his answer. He simply nodded and got up to let you out of his dorm. 

“You know I -” you began to say.

“Don't worry about it,” Aemond said with a tight smile. “I understand.” 

And with that he closed the door.

You couldn't help but press your forehead against the door. You knew you should head back to your own dorm but you couldn't bring yourself to do so. Your feet refused to move and the thought of leaving Aemond alone in his room hurt your heart. 

So you let yourself stay there. 

You could hear Aemond through the door a tiny bit. You wondered if he felt as conflicted as you. A small mirthless laugh left you. Of course he felt conflicted. You were the one making him wait. Taking a deep breath, you pulled yourself up and headed out of the dorm and to your family’s house.

Unlike Aemond’s loving family, yours refused to pay for a dormitory. You had to walk or grab a ride home at the end of every day. Normally you would ask Aemond or Helaena for a ride but you wanted to be alone right now. Asking Aemond after this movie night was out of the question as well. So instead, you basked in the brisk cold night as you made your way back to the house.

When you arrived at the house you didn't bother announcing your presence. It wouldn't have been met with anything kind anyway, if it even received a reply. While the interior was warm and welcoming to everyone else, it was cold and lonely for you. Stepping inside the building, you toes off your shoes and shrugged off your coat before retreating into your bedroom. It was your safe haven in this place. 

Plopping down on the bed, you let out a groan. The day had been going perfectly well until you told Aemond it felt as though you were playing him. You were just too scared for yourself and for him. You didn't want either of you to get hurt in any way. Gods forbid the pain is caused by you or him. You hugged a pillow, wishing it was Aemond. Soon enough, sleep found you.

You walked down a cold, empty hallway. Your footsteps echoed against the walls. You didn't know where you were going; you were just walking. One thing you did notice, however, was the deep pit in your stomach. Something was going to happen but you didn't know what. And it would be something big. 

Soon, the walls became grand. Wallpaper were plastered on and large portraits of your family lined them. Your parents looked regal, of course. If it were another time you thought they would even be royalty. Then came the portraits of your brothers, Jace and Luke. 

Ever since Luke took Aemond's eye, you’ve cut him off. You avoided him, refused to talk to him, and have even left buildings if you found out he was there. There was no love in your heart for Luke, even if you were siblings. You could never forgive him for what he did. Yet here, in his portraits, he looked like a carefree child. So innocent. So wrong.

Jace’s portraits seemed accurate, in your opinion. He was still as charming as ever but you could see underneath him, how he loathed you, how we always craved the attention from mother and father. You smiled cruelly at that thought. He would never have their full attention. It was always on themselves but you let Jace believe that maybe one day their focus would be on him. To an extent you pitied Jace but not enough to make room in your heart to love him. He did nothing while Aemond was hurt and he constantly ridiculed you. No, there was no love.

Soon, there were pictures of Mrs. Alicent, Mr. Criston, Aegon, Helaena, and Jason. Unlike the photos of your family, these were candid, happy photos. They were real and genuine. No fake smiles or practiced poses; just silly faces and love. As you approached each of their photos, you couldn't help but feel joy. You were so happy for them and you wished desperately to be part of that. 

But something was off.

In the bundle of photos with Aemond was another person. Their face was covered or they were always facing away from the camera. Aemond was either grinning ear to ear or looked at that person with…love. The person in question had long, dark, flowing hair. You didn't recognize this person but it did something to your stomach. A pit dropped and it made you want to throw up. 

You kept walking down the hallway.

Suddenly, you heard laughter. Laughter and voices. You pinned down Aemond's but didn't recognize the female one. You didn't like this one bit. Could there be someone else for Aemond?

No. No, that can't be.

You raced down the hallway to find Aemond and this mysterious woman locked in an embrace.

“Aemond?” You asked quietly.

Aemond turned around. “You're too late,” he said. His voice echoed. “I waited for you but you took too long. I found someone else.”

“No!” You cried. You had woken up in a cold sweat. Looking around, you tried to ground yourself. There is no hallway, no portraits or pictures, no Aemond with some other woman.

You sighed as you heard someone come up to your door. You had an inkling it was one of your brothers.

“Hey, can we talk?” Jace knocked on your door.

You opened it only to reveal your older brother. “What do you want?”

He looked down at his feet. “I wanted to apologize. I've never been the best big brother and that's on me.”

“Okay…” you were confused as to why he was doing this.

“I was talking with my girlfriend, Sara, and she said that we needed to talk so here I am.”

You crossed your arms and leaned on the doorframe. “Talk about what?”

Jace shrugged. “Everything, I guess.”

“...Okay. Give me a minute to get dressed and we can go to the Dorne Café.” You closed the door behind you and got ready.

Within ten minutes you and Jace were out of the door and in his car. The ride to the café was silent. It wasn't tense or anything, just quiet. When you arrived at the café there were a decent amount of people there but not too many. After both of you placed your orders you went to claim a table outside.

Sitting across from each other, you waited for your brother to say something first. You simply looked at each other. In contrast to you, he was waiting for you to speak first. Once again in your life, you were at a stand still with your brother.

Not being able to stand the silence, you broke it. “Okay, I'll bite. You, Luke, mother, and father never wanted to do anything with me. I was always on the side and when I wasn't I was teased and ridiculed.”

“That’s a pretty heavy way to start this,” commented Jace.

“Well, you wouldn't talk first, so I did.”

“I teased you because I was mad. I was upset that you were closer with Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond and not with us. You're my sister. You should've been with me and not them.”

“You weren’t the most welcoming type when it came to me, Jace.”

“That's because I didn't know!”

“That’s a shitty excuse. We could have been closer. We could have had a better relationship.”

“I know and I want to fix it!”

You sighed and put your head on your hands. “Jace, it might be best for us to just go our separate ways. Damage was done and it was constant. I just can't forget all that.”

“Yes, you can. We can start over, pretend that nothing ever happened.”

“But it did happen. My childhood was filled with your constant teasing and mother and father’s neglect. It's forever burned in my mind.”

Jace threw his hands up in the air. “Then what do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know, Jace.” You could feel a lump growing in your throat. You didn't know what to expect on your way to the café but it wasn't this.

He nodded his head. “Okay, then.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I wasn't a better brother. You deserved to be treated better.”

“I know.”

Silence enveloped the air. No one talked. Only distant conversations and cars speeding by were heard by the two of you.

“I think it’s best if I just go to Helaena’s,” you whispered.

“What about us?”

“What about us? We're ruined Jace. We were never truly brother and sister.” You paused. “I was planning on moving in with Helaena, anyway, she needs a roomie for her apartment. I'll pack up my things over the next few days and I'll be out of everyone's hair.”

“If that's what you want.”

“I'm sorry, Jace. I truly am.”

Both of you were slow to pick up your trash. It was as though you were savoring these last few moments. When Jace dropped you off at Helaena’s apartment he walked you to the door.

“Maybe one day we’ll get better,” he said.

“Maybe.” You were hesitant but you gave him a hug. “Goodbye, Jace.”

Once he left and his car had gone out of view, you knocked on the door.

“Coming!” Came Helaena’s dreamy voice. She opened the door and wrapped you in a big hug. After letting you go she said, “I read your text, I'm so excited for you to move in! It'll be just us. No boys to stink up the place.”

“Believe me, I'm so excited.” You tried to smile but it faltered.

Helaena furrowed her brows. “What's wrong?” She pulled you into the apartment.

Once you were seated on the couch you told her everything that had transpired between you and Jace. 

“It was a goodbye and it was upsetting but it was also freeing in a way.”

Helaena nodded her head. “I understand.”

“I’m not looking forward to moving all my stuff out. I just don’t really want to go back there.”

“I’ll be with you every step of the way, I promise,” Helaena said. “And we can ask Aemond and Aegon to join us, too. They would keep your family away from us.”

You laughed mirthlessly. “You know, my mother still thinks Luke was in the right. She thinks that Aemond deserved to lose his eye. Sometimes I can’t believe I’m related to her.”

“That’s sick,” Helaena agreed.

“Gods, what even is my family?”

“A mess. They’re a giant mess. But,” she paused. “You have us. You have me, my mother and father, and Aemond and Aegon. We will always be with you.”

“I used to be so scared that you guys would push me away; especially after Aemond lost his eye.”

“Why would you think that?”

You shrugged. “I felt responsible and guilty. I blamed myself and believed that you guys would later blame me, too.”

“Don't be ridiculous. That will never happen. I promise.” Helaena pulled you into a hug.

Gratefully, you returned it. “I talked to Aemond this morning.”

“And?”

“I'm just so torn, Hel. I want to be with him but I don't want to risk our friendship.”

“You know I think you should take the leap but I can't make that decision for you. You have to do it yourself.”

Your thoughts moved to your dream. “What if there's someone else for him? Someone better than me?”

“I honestly can't see Aemond with anyone else but you. You two have been through it all. And,” she paused and obviously glanced at your collar bone. “You're still wearing the necklace after all these years.”

You brought your hand up to rub the gem between your fingers. It was an action that you developed whenever you got stressed. 

“Look, you even mess with the necklace whenever something is wrong because it calms you. Aemond calms you.”

“It’s all so much.”

“You know what I think, but I want you to do it on your own terms. If you need more time, then take it.”

You took Helaena’s hands in your own. “Thank you.”

She squeezed your hands before letting them go to clap them together. “Now, shall we start moving in now or tomorrow?”

You huffed out a laugh. “I think tomorrow will be fine. We can give the boys a heads up tonight and just chill.”

“I love that idea.” She looped her arm through yours and led you to your soon to be room.

Moving in with Helaena was a breeze, thankfully. You didn’t have much to take out from your parents’ house. Jace actually stepped in to help a little bit but said nothing when doing so. When you left with your things, all he did was give you a small nod. 

You had officially cut ties with your family.

You were free.

The air felt fresher. The grass was greener. Your mother, father, and brothers no longer loomed over you. Taking a deep breath, you smiled as you looked around your room. No one would steal anything from you. You had a whole apartment you shared with one of your closest friends. Everything was right. Everything except the hole in your heart.

Pacing the room, you went through the war in your head, trying to choose if you should talk to Aemond or not. The worst he could say was no but that would be too much. Even though the chances of him saying no is almost nonexistent. Still, the risk was there and that terrified you. Putting your gears aside, you dialed Aemond’s number and called him. 

The phone barely rang before Aemond answered.

“Are you okay?” he immediately asked.

“Yeah, I'm okay. I guess I just wanted to talk to you,” you admitted. 

“What's up?” He asked again. When you didn't respond he said, “I know something is wrong. You don't call me unless something is really messing with you.”

Sighing, you nodded your head until you realized he couldn't see you. “Can I come over?”

“Yeah, always.”

You could hear his smile. Aemond always loved it whenever you came to his dorm.

“I'll see you in a bit, Aems.”

“In a bit,” he repeated.

When you asked Helaena to drive you to Aemond's dorm she gave you a knowing smile.

“Are you finally going to tell him?” She asked you.

“I…I don't know but it's in the realm of possibilities,” you said. It was true. You played with the idea of telling him today but you were still scared.

The car ride to Aemond’s dorm was uneventful. Helaena gave you words of encouragement and tried her best to keep you calm. 

“You're going to be okay. Both of you. I've never seen two people who meshed as well as the both of you. Whatever bond you have with him is unbreakable,” Helaena told you.

You wrung your hands together. “Yeah.”

When Helaena pulled up to Aemond’s dorm building he was already out in front waiting for you. His tall frame making him stand out in the emptiness of the walkway. With his hair down and flowing slightly with the breeze he looked ethereal. You could never get over how beautiful he was. 

When Aemond saw you, a smile brightened up his face. You smiled back. It was going to be a good day, you thought to yourself. Stepping out of Helaena’s car, you gave her a quick thank you and tried to control yourself as you walked to Aemond. As soon as you were by his side he pulled you into a hug.

“You've had me worried these last few days,” he admitted.

“And why's that?” You asked him.

“You've pulled away a bit.” He was quiet.

Your eyebrows pinched together. “What do you mean?”

“Once you moved in with Helaena you didn't call or text me much and didn't offer to visit until now.”

“Oh.” You couldn't tell him everything. Not yet. “There's been a lot going on.”

“You don't have to take that on alone,” Aemond reminded you. “I'm here for you. Together forever, yeah?”

You smiled. “Together forever.”

That night you spent the entirety of it with Aemond. You put on a movie, popped popcorn, and simply enjoyed each other's company. It was as though there was no lingering feelings between you two. It was just you guys. Anyone from the outside would have assumed you were together, and gods, did you wish it was true. Aemond, for sure, wished it was. 

You and Aemond say against the wall on his bed. His arm was casually around you while you snuggled in close. At some point in the night he pulled his hair up in a messy bun. When you tried to braid his hair he swatted your hands away with a goofy grin on his face. 

“Just once!” You pleaded.

“You've already done it once!” Aemond laughed.

“When?” You put your hands on your hips.

Aemond sighed then explained, “Back when we were fourteen. You convinced me to let you braid my hair. It was in knots afterwards.”

Crossing your arms over your chest you muttered, “It wasn't too bad.”

“We needed Helaena’s help.”

Nudging Aemond with your shoulder you told him, “Fine. I won't braid your hair tonight. But let's do something!”

“What if I braided your hair?” 

You raised an eyebrow. “You know how to braid hair?”

“There's a first time for everything,” he shrugged. “It's your turn to have knots,” he bumped you back with his shoulder.

You huffed, “Fine,” and plopped yourself in front of him.

When Aemond ran his hands through your hair, you couldn't help but lean back into him. He gently massaged your scalp before carefully dividing your hair into three sections. 

“Are you sure you know how to do this?” You teased.

Aemond tugged on your hair, sending shivers down your spine. “We're about to find out,” he whispered in your ear.

You couldn't help but flush at his words. Aemond braiding your hair shouldn't be as intimate as this and yet it was. Your relationship has changed since you've both moved on to college. Now, you simply danced around each other.

As Aemond braided your hair, he would tug on it every now and then, causing a bolt of pleasure to shoot through your stomach. 

“Am I hurting you?” Aemond asked when he tugged it for the fourth time.

“No,” you let out breathlessly.

When Aemond finished braiding your hair, you turned around only to find each other nose to nose.

“Aemond?” Whispered.

His violet eye bore into yours before quickly dipping down to your lips and back. “Yes?”

You looked at him and slowly leaned forward. Meeting you in the middle, Aemond captured your lips in his. It was soft. It was tentative. For a second you froze, not knowing what to do, but then Aemond reached up to cup your face and you kissed him back. You moved so you were on your knees in front of him, just now slightly taller than him sitting down. His hands went to your waist and he held on like he never wanted to let go. 

Sitting back on your haunches, you placed your hands on his shoulders. Aemond tensed up slightly but relaxed quickly. The kiss wasn't heated or rushed. It was very slow and calm. You were both waiting and now you finally had each other.

[skele-bunny]

Can I ask for some age regression dewdrop with aether as his care taker?

OOhHHHHHHH MY GOD THANK U THANK U!!! Me and @artificialmoth talk about agereg Dewy all the time 🥺 this is so special thank u

Little Dew, who we call Kitty (name idea thanks to Sphylor), came around during era 3. He finally felt comfortable and safe in his environment to relax after so many stressors, giving him the opportunity to just... Be small! Kitty is extremely non verbal, and in the tinier age range of 2-4. Unfortunately, within my canon, his environment became too unsafe to have such vulnerability so kitty just, basically, hid.

It wasn't until the beginning of Prequelle did kitty come back again. In the old bedroom with Aether to get some of their things to move to the new den when he seen one of his old toys. Just gently going over the ridges and bumps before he slowly sat down, playing with it and eventually so lost in that comfort it kinda just... Slipped.

Now, I think ghouls can change their size and appearance. Age regression plays into that a bunch! Aether came back to a tiny Dew surrounded in toys and playing, looking up at him and freezing. Just a fear response. But Aether slowly sat down, tilting his head before smiling and picking up a teddy bear.

"What are you playing?"

And from there, Aether met Kitty. He's kitty's immediate caretaker and they wouldn't have it AANNYY other way. He's also met "Dewey" (specifically with an e, his words) which is Dew's middle. Bitey little thing and has a lot of fits. Doesn't know how to regulate himself a bunch so Dewey requires a lot more attention, structure, and gentle parenting rather than Kitty who just needs gentleness.

Kitty has pacifiers he doesn't really use unless he's really small, but the handle? Yeah? He doesn't like it. Fussed CONSTANTLY until the point Aether figured out what was bothering him, and learned to remove it.

He also kneads on Aether a bunch! He doesn't mean to, but sometimes his lil claws will prick Aether. Aeth never gets mad tho :3 just gently redirects to another area. Sometimes Aeth will fold the blanket in half to help prevent getting nicked

Aether got Kitty an extra soft blanket for his first gift! Kitty fuckin LOVES it sooo much!!! It also smells like Aether so it's a plus. You'll never see him without it in his lil nest

Also, have you ever seen the videos of cats and weenie dogs in a hoodie/jacket sleeve? Yeah, that's Kitty.

Kitty doesn't like a lot of noise or lights, so they have fairy lights and a specific playlist dedicated for little time. Sometimes if he needs visual stim, Aether will put on aquatic videos of like... Jellyfish or an aquarium live stream. There's also led around the TV that matches the screen to help with lighting! He's just in straight awe, purring, eyes full and watching. Lil tail thumping cause he's so invested

[lachencha]

Cien Años: Anya Mouthwashing x Reader

Please enjoy! I hope you guys like it!

Warnings?: Anya kinda having a breakdown, and death :(

I remember when I first met you. We were both in college. I remember when you first passed by me, our eyes met, and you still passed with no regard. But for some reason, in that moment, I found myself drawn to you. Though you didn't see me, I saw you. Though you didn't hear me, I heard you. I thought it was just a crush, but I would've never possibly thought that you would become the sun of my life.

You remember sitting at the same table as her in your anatomy lab. She didn't really talk to you unless it was to ask a question or pass along whatever unit you were studying. But then again, you never made much of an effort to talk to her either. Still, no matter what, you both sat next to each other every lab, a quiet, unremarkable duo. And that was that—or so you thought.

Then the new semester began, and there she was again, in another class with you.

There was no way you could talk to her, you told yourself. No way.

It started with a small conversation—just a casual exchange, the kind you could've had with anyone else. But none of them were her. None of them were Anya.

You soon found her to be ambitious, focused. She knew she wanted to be a doctor, and she'd known since she became a CNA at sixteen. That's when she realized she wanted to help people—anyone, everyone. You admired her for her determination, her heart, and her resilience. You admired her for simply being her.

And that's how it started.

You became friends, meeting at the library to study, sneaking snacks in your bags, and finding the farthest corner where no one would bother you. You tried to stay quiet, when you were together, everything was funny. You almost got kicked out twice before realizing that maybe studying in the dorm rooms was a better option.

Even though your majors were different, studying with her became something to look forward to. Just having someone to keep you on track felt like enough, but you soon found yourself getting distracted.

It was the way she adjusted her glasses. The way she frowned ever so slightly when she lost her page. The way she teased you when she caught you staring. She was mesmerizing. She made you feel things you'd never felt before, things no past girlfriend or boyfriend had ever stirred in you.

She was everywhere—living full-time in your thoughts and your heart. No matter what you did, you always found a way back to her.

With Anya in your life, it felt like there could never be more rainy days. Her smile being enough to pull the sun from the clouds, making everyday a sunny day.

And somewhere along the way, you realized you were falling for her. Desperately. Completely.

You'd never expected it, not on the first day you saw her. You didn't sense it coming. But now it consumed you.

You thought you hid it well. You were sure she hadn't noticed. Anya was always focused—engrossed in her books, attentive in class. There was no way she'd caught on.

But she had.

You weren't as subtle as you thought. The way you tried to brush her hand. The way you laughed and immediately looked to see if she was laughing too. It was written all over you.

And she called you out on it one night.

The glow of the laptop cast soft, shifting light across your faces as the movie played on. You hadn't said a single word in ten minutes. Your gaze kept drifting—no, pulling—to her. The flutter of her lashes, the curve of her cheek, the way her hand rested just a breath away from yours on the blanket.

She adjusts her position, her shoulder brushing yours, and whispers teasingly, "You're not even watching."

Her voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you realized she caught you mid-stare.

Your breath hitched. You could've denied it. Maybe you should have. But there was no point.

She turned slightly, propping herself up on one elbow to face you, the movie forgotten. "If you're going to keep looking at me like that," she murmured, her voice low and steady, "you might as well just go for it."

Your heart pounded. The scent of her strawberry shampoo filled your senses, and every nerve in your body screamed at you to close the gap.

When you finally kissed her, it was everything you imagined—and more.

It felt like the world stopped spinning, like a weight you didn't realize you carried had been lifted. It was a moment you knew you'd never forget.

That was your first kiss. And every time you think of it, you can't help but smile.

After that, you were hers, and she was yours.

It wasn't a fantasy anymore. It was real. And it was everything.

We started off as friends but we were both aware that we could be more. It started with one kiss. One kiss and my life began to feel like a never ending dream. Because with you in my life, there are no rainy days, with your kisses you have erased the scars in my heart. With you, there are no more lonely nights, and they are once again wonderful, knowing that I get to hold you close, and wake up each morning with you.

"When we graduate, where would you want to live? I think I'd want to live in the suburbs," Anya murmurs, shifting closer to you."It's quieter and way better for driving. The apartment is nice, but do you really want to keep hearing our drunk-ass neighbors every night?"

You chuckle and lean your head against hers. "I think I'd like the suburbs too, but wouldn't we still have to drive a lot just to get to work?" You try to calculate the drive times in your head, but her warmth against you makes it hard to focus.

Anya lets out a little laugh, "Yeah, but don't you remember that time we went to that pumpkin patch?"

"The one near Martin County?"

She nods, her face lighting up. "Yes! That one!"

A smile tugs at your lips as you watch her talk about how much she loved that little town. Her eyes shine with excitement, and you can't help but feel your chest tighten. It's in these quiet, unassuming moments that makes you realize just how much you love her. Waking up next to her every morning feels like a gift. Even when she accidentally kicks you awake because she's running late, or when her alarm blares three times before she finally turns it off.

With graduation looming, the two of you spend so much time talking about the future. Right now, it's one of many conversations: Where should you live? What kind of house should you buy? How many pets should you adopt? The questions pile up, but none of it feels overwhelming. With her, the future doesn't feel scary—it feels like something to look forward to.

Whether it's the good or the bad, you love every single part of her. When she almost burned down the kitchen trying to microwave something wrapped in foil. When she was thirty minutes late picking you up from work but made it up to you with your favorite coffee. When she stayed up all night to help you with that essay you couldn't finish. When she cut up fruit for you on a bad day because she knew you needed comfort.

You look at her now, rambling about the pumpkin patch, and you can't help but interrupt.

"I love you, Anya."

She blinks, caught off guard, her lips parting slightly. "Where did that come from?"

You shrug, a soft laugh slipping out. "I don't know. I just wanted to tell you."

Her cheeks flush, but she quickly smirks and lightly slaps your chest. "Don't do that! You scared me for a second."

You laugh and pull her closer, burying your face in her neck as you pepper her skin with kisses. She's laughing too, her hands weakly pushing against you.

Moments like this make everything else fade away. Whatever happens next, you know one thing for certain: you're the luckiest person in the world to love her and be loved by her.

Along with your kisses, give me your sorrows, your sighs, give me your pain. Let me wipe your tears. I'll remind you of your strength, and lift you up when you are low. Because the foundation of our love is stronger than any challenge life throws at us.

"I didn't make it in."

Her voice cracks, barely above a whisper, as she grips the rejection letter, crumpling it in trembling hands.

Your heart shatters at the sight of her tears. Without a second thought, you pull her into your arms, her body collapsing against yours as she sobs. She clings to you like you're the only thing holding her together, her cries muffled against your shoulder. You gently rub circles into her back, hoping it might soothe the ache you know you can't take away.

"It's my second rejection," she chokes out, her words jagged. "I—I can't take the test for another year. What am I going to do?" Her tears fall harder now, streaking her face as despair overtakes her.

You cup her face in your hands, brushing your thumbs across her wet cheeks. "Anya, it's going to be okay. The MCAT is one of the hardest tests in the world—"

She jerks away, shaking her head as fresh tears spill over. "But I worked so hard! Hours, days, weeks! I thought I had it this time! I wasn't even close." Her voice cracks, rising with every word. "How can I be so stupid?" She buries her face in her hands, her words muffled but sharp. "They're going to bar me from taking it because I'm a fucking idiot!"

"Anya, stop—"

"Five more attempts." Her voice drops to a whisper, full of fear and self-loathing. "That's all I have left."

You reach for her hands, gently pulling them away from her face, your heart aching as her shoulders shake. "Anya, listen to me. You're not stupid. You're brilliant. You've worked so hard, and I know how much this means to you. Don't let this stop you. You can try again, and I'll be right here to help you through it. Every step of the way."

Her wide, tear-filled eyes search yours. "You don't think I'm stupid?" she hiccups, her voice trembling.

"I would never think that," you say softly, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. "You're the smartest, most determined person I know. And I know you can make your dreams come true. I believe in you, Anya, and I'll do everything I can to help you."

Her lip quivers, and she nods, finally letting herself melt into your arms again. She buries her face in your chest, her sobs quieter now as you hold her close, cradling her with all the love you can give.

You had me so accustomed to your love, that the biggest challenge for me were the months that I had to be away from you, your hugs, and your kisses. Waiting at home like an abandoned puppy, wishing for you to come back home already.

"I need to talk to you."

You look up from your plate, signaling that she's got your attention.

"I got a job interview." She murmurs, pushing her food around with her fork.

You immediately sense something is off, but you try to mask it.

"That's great! But... what's wrong with the job you have now?"

"Nothing. But this company offers nursing classes. I could train to be a nurse there."

Your brows furrow. "What company?"

She hesitates, then barely gets the words out. "The Pony Express."

You pause mid-bite, the fork hovering in the air. "Wait, isn't that the company that does shipments in space?"

She slowly nods.

"You're not thinking of getting on one of those ships, right?"

Her eyes dart away.

"Anya."

"Shipments only take a few months," she says quickly. "The money is supposed to be pretty good."

"Anya."

"I'll be gone for a little while, but with that check, you wouldn't have to work so much. We could finally get a house together. I could finally—" her voice cracks, "I could finally be something."

You set your fork down and lean back, rubbing the bridge of your nose. "You don't have to—"

"I do!" she snaps, tears spilling over. "Do you think I like being stuck here? Stuck in this same place, day after day, while you go to work with a purpose and I—" She swallows hard. "I can't do it anymore. I need this."

Her words cut deep, and you know she's not wrong, you know it's been killing her. Still, the thought of her being out there, alone, on one of those ships...

"Anya, it's dangerous. You've heard the stories about what can go wrong out there. It's not worth the risk."

"I don't care." Her voice softens, breaking apart. "For once in my life, I want to feel like I'm going somewhere."

You sigh, your shoulders slumping. As much as you hate the idea, as much as it twists in your gut, you can see it in her eyes—this is something she has to do.

"Are you mad at me?" she asks, her voice small.

You shake your head, barely meeting her gaze. "No. I just—" The words catch in your throat, but you push them out. "If this is what you want to do... I'm not going to stop you. I'll support you. No matter what."

She reaches across the table and takes your hand. "Thank you."

Her smile is fragile, but you force one in return. Even if it hurts, you'll stand by her.

And it did hurt.

When she finally stepped onto that damn ship, you told yourself you'd be okay. You told her you'd be okay. But deep down, you knew it was a lie. Every fiber of you wanted to grab her hand and pull her back, beg her not to go. But you didn't. You couldn't. She needed this, and you had promised—promised—to support her no matter what.

The first few days, you checked the clock constantly, imagining where she might be in the vastness of space. The silence between you felt like an eternity. No calls. No messages. Just the void. Seven months, you told yourself. Seven months without hearing her laugh, seeing her eyes light up, or feeling her fingers brush against yours.

It felt like an eternity.

Nights were the worst. The bed seemed colder, emptier than ever, like it was mocking you. Dinner tasted bland, the silence deafening. You'd catch yourself staring at her empty seat, whispering things you wished you'd said before she left.

But when those long, torturous months finally passed, and you saw her standing there on the dock, it was like the world finally started spinning again.

You didn't think—you just ran. Ran through the crowd, past the families and her fellow crew members. You didn't care who saw. You crashed into her, your arms wrapping around her like they never wanted to let go again.

And she didn't care either. No teasing, no scolding. Her lips were on yours before you could even speak, her hands gripping you as tightly as you held her. For a moment, it was like the whole world disappeared—just you and Anya, tangled up in each other.

"I missed you so much," you whispered, your voice cracking. You buried your face against her neck, breathing her in.

"I missed you too," she murmured, her breath warm against your cheek.

When you finally pulled back, your hands stayed on her shoulders, as if to reassure yourself she was real. You smiled through the tears threatening to spill. "Do you want me to take you out? You must be starving after seven months of... whatever you guys eat up there."

She laughed—a real, warm laugh that you hadn't heard in far too long. "I just want to go home."

On the drive, she talked about everything: the fear when the ship launched, the monotony of the days, the quiet moments alone. But then her voice softened.

"The hardest part was being without you," she said, turning to you, her eyes glistening. "The moment I got on that ship, I regretted it. Every single day, I regretted it." She hesitated, her voice catching. "The contract's for two shipments, but after this next one, I'm taking the test again."

You pulled into the driveway and turned to her, your heart swelling. "I'm proud of you, Anya."

She blinked at you, surprised. "For what? I haven't done anything yet."

"For not giving up," you said softly, your smile trembling as you looked at her. "You've always been stronger than you think, Anya. Even when things feel impossible, you keep going. That's what I love about you. No matter how hard it gets, you never stop reaching for what you want."

Her eyes filled with tears, and she looked down, her hands twisting in her lap. You reached out, gently tilting her chin so she'd meet your gaze.

"I'm proud of you—not because you went to space, or because of what you're planning to do next—but because you never stop trying."

Her lips parted like she wanted to say something, but the words didn't come. Instead, she just looked at you, her eyes searching yours, shimmering with the tears she refused to let fall.

"Anya," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "It's okay. You don't have to say anything."

But then she shook her head, a faint, trembling smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. "You don't get it," she said, her voice breaking. "It's you. You're the reason I keep going. You're the reason I don't give up."

You didn't think, you just leaned in, your hand cradling her cheek, and kissed her. It was soft at first, careful, almost tentative, but when her hands found your shirt and gripped it tightly, pulling you closer, it deepened.

Nothing else mattered—not the months apart, not the uncertainty of the future. Just the warmth of her lips, the way she breathed your name against your mouth, the feeling of her heart pounding as fiercely as yours.

When you finally broke apart, she rested her forehead against yours, her breath coming in soft, uneven gasps.

"I missed this," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion.

"Me too," you said, your thumb brushing gently against her cheek. "But we're here now. Together."

She smiled again, this time a little stronger, and kissed you once more—this time slower, as if to savor every second.

"Let's go inside," she said softly.

And this time, you didn't argue.

Her next shipment was longer than the first—over a year this time. You knew you'd never get used to the long stretches of time apart, but you clung to her promise. Just this one last shipment, she'd said, and then she'd take the test again. Then she could finally chase her dream. Just one year. You told yourself you could survive one year.

You were driving home from work when the phone call came. At first, you didn't think much of it, glancing at the unfamiliar number on the screen before answering.

"Hello, is this (Y/N) (L/N)?"

"Yes, this is (Y/N)."

"Hello, (Y/N). I'm calling from The Pony Express. We have your number listed as the emergency contact for Anya Musume."

Your stomach dropped. "Is she okay?"

The voice on the other end hesitated—a moment too long. "Are you driving right now?"

Panic clawed at your chest. "Yes! What's going on? Is Anya okay?"

"I'm going to ask you to pull over. Please, for your safety."

Your hands were already trembling as you flicked on your hazard lights and swerved into a nearby parking lot, barely noticing where you ended up. You turned off the car, but your heartbeat thundered in your ears.

"I've pulled over," you said, your voice cracking. "Just tell me—please—is she okay?"

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. Then, in a voice carefully measured but edged with regret, the caller spoke.

"(Y/N), Anya was aboard our space freighter Tulpar. A few days ago, we lost contact with the ship following a crash."

You gripped the steering wheel so hard your knuckles turned white. "What do you mean, crash?"

The voice softened, though it didn't waver. "We regret to inform you that the crash was catastrophic. All evidence suggests that there were no survivors, including Anya and the other four crew members. We are currently searching for the wreckage to confirm, but... we believe the loss was total."

It felt as though the air had been sucked from your lungs. For a moment, you couldn't speak. Couldn't even think. And then the words sank in.

"No," you whispered, the denial tearing its way out of your throat. "No, that's not—she promised—"

"I'm so sorry," the voice said quietly. "I truly am."

Your vision blurred with tears, and before you could stop yourself, a sound erupted from your chest—a raw, anguished wail that filled the car. You clutched the wheel as if it could anchor you, but the world around you was already spinning, collapsing, crumbling into nothing.

She was gone. Anya was gone.

The drive home was a blur. You didn't even remember how you made it there, your body moving on autopilot while your mind remained trapped in those words.

No survivors.

You sat in the car for what felt like hours, staring blankly at the steering wheel, as if waiting for the phone to ring again and tell you they'd made a mistake. That she wasn't gone.

But the phone stayed silent.

Inside the house, everything was just as she'd left it. Her favorite mug sat on the counter. The blanket she always curled up with was draped over the couch. The framed photo of the two of you at graduation still sat on the coffee table, her smile so bright and alive.

It felt wrong. It felt impossible.

Your legs gave out beneath you, and you collapsed onto the floor. The air felt heavy, like it didn't want to fill your lungs. You pressed your hands to your chest, as if you could physically hold the pieces of your heart together, but it didn't help.

"She can't be gone," you whispered, your voice trembling. "She can't be gone."

The room was silent, but in your mind, you could still hear her laugh. See the way she'd roll her eyes when you teased her. Feel the warmth of her hand slipping into yours.

You'd told yourself so many times that she was coming back. You'd counted down the days, dreamed about the moment she'd walk through the door again.

But now the only thing you had to hold onto was the echo of a promise she could never keep.

Tears streamed down your face as you curled in on yourself, your body shaking with the weight of it all. The emptiness was unbearable, and yet somehow, it was all you had left.

A few months later, you stood alongside the families of the other crew members at a memorial service. The mother of the young intern cried out, a raw and guttural sound, as her husband clutched her trembling frame. She dropped to her knees, screaming that it was her fault, that she should have never let her son work for the company. Your heart ached as her cries echoed in the air—a mother had lost her son, a sister had lost her brother, a wife had lost her husband. And you... you had lost the love of your life.

The wife of the ship's mechanic placed a trembling hand on your shoulder. The two of you stood there, silent yet bound together by a shared pain—both of you had lost the love of your lives.

"You know," you whispered, voice cracking under the weight of it all, "I was going to propose to her when she came back. I even wrote her a speech. But now—"

The words crumbled in your throat, and she pulled you into a fierce embrace.

"We had so many plans," you said, your voice muffled against her shoulder. "A house. Maybe adoption. So many dreams... why?"

And then there were no words, just the shuddering of your bodies as you wept into each other's arms.

At the end of the service, you found yourself alone at her headstone, clutching a weathered piece of paper. It was meant to be the start of something beautiful—the words you'd planned to say when she came home. Now, they were your farewell.

"I remember the first time you walked past me," you began, your voice trembling. "Our eyes met for just a second before you kept walking, completely unaware of what you'd done to me. In that single moment, I felt something shift—like gravity had finally found its center. You didn't see me, but I saw you. You didn't hear me, but I heard you. At first, I thought it was nothing—just a passing crush—but I never imagined that you'd become the sun of my life."

You paused, the ache in your chest nearly unbearable, but you forced yourself to keep going.

"We started off as friends, but we both knew we could be more. And then there was that kiss—the one that changed everything. It wasn't just a kiss—it was the beginning of a dream I never wanted to wake from. Because with you, there were no rainy days. Your love erased every scar, every ache in my heart. You made the nights less lonely, and the mornings something to look forward to. You were my everything."

Your fingers tightened around the paper as tears blurred your vision.

"I would've given you all of me—your pain, your joy, your burdens—I would've carried them all, just to keep you close. You made me strong. You made me whole. You gave me a love that felt invincible, even when you were thousands of miles away. But now..."

Your voice broke, and the paper slipped from your hand. You fell to your knees, tracing her name etched into the cold, unfeeling stone.

"And now, without you, the world feels empty. But I know, no matter how many years pass, no matter how far I go, you'll always be with me. You're tied to my soul, my existence, in a way that even death can't undo."

"And if I lived a hundred years—or a hundred lifetimes—I would still spend every moment loving you."

This was inspired by the song Cien Años by Pedro Infante, a song about unrequited love, but I mostly was inspired by the last lyric:

“And yet, you remain tied to my existence,

and if I live for a hundred years,

then for a hundred years I’ll think of you.”

It’s a beautiful song! I love being mexican 🇲🇽

hope you guys enjoyed :)