#a small part of me actually wants to write this but like

[moonlight-alexia]

glitter hearts | s.c.

steph catley x mccabe!reader | 2.7k | your first valentine's day with Steph

ˏˋ°•*⁀ this is part of the enchanted to meet you universe. this is set before world cup surprises, their first valentine's together as a couple <3 also i am very busy until sunday but wanted a little valentine's day fic for y'all. i might have time to write an alexia x lil mac one too but no promises <3 enjoy!

any and all feedback, comments, reblogs etc are very appreciated and welcome <3

‘Katie,’ You whispered out, ‘...Katie…’ Your older sister, unsuspecting while she slept, you had slowly crept into her room in the middle of the night. You sighed, waking up Katie had always been difficult so you started gently shaking her shoulder, ‘Katie! Wake up!’

‘What-’ Katie blinks, half sitting up, hands up ready to fight whoever is intruding in her room and in the process half pushing you back when she pushed your hands away from her.

‘Katie,’ You whispered a bit more firmly than before, but still a whisper trying to settle your sister who was still on alert.

‘Oh it’s you,’ Katie grumbled and laid back down, closing her eyes and slightly shifting her body away from you, ‘What you want?’ Turning her head back to look your direction, eyebrow slightly raised, a slight glare in her eyes.

‘Do you think she’ll like this?’ Suddenly your voice went small and you fidgeted with the little card you were holding in your hand. You weren’t nervous when you decided to come wake your sister up but now you were wondering if maybe you should’ve waited until at least a few more hours when the sun would make an appearance.

Your sister definitely would’ve been more forgiving and supportive, anyway you were here and already committed to waking her up. So you held out the card in front of her while she just gave you a questioning look, ‘Steph. Do you think Steph will like it?’

‘You woke me up at…,’ Katie blindly reached out for her phone, grimacing as the brightness of her screen lit up her face, ‘...at 3 in the morning to ask me about a…a handmade card?’

‘Katie,’ You whined out when she pushed the card back towards you, not really bothering to look at it. You, ever persistent and just as stubborn as your older sister in getting what you want, held the card back out towards her, ‘There’s more but, I didn’t want to push my luck in actually getting you out of bed,’

‘You and coming into my room in the middle of the night,’ Katie muttered under her breath, it wasn’t a common occurrence but there were plenty of times you’d woken your older sister up at all different hours of the night. Katie didn’t really mind, she’d always be there for you, your protective slightly older sister. 

Slowly but surely making a move to get out from the coziness of her blankets into the chill of the night, ‘I’m gonna have to get a lock or just kick you out. Go annoy someone else,’ The way Katie’s lips turned upwards slightly in the corner was all you needed to know she wasn’t actually being serious. You’d be the same if the roles were reversed. 

Katie’s eyes went wide when she saw the state of her dining room, ‘Not only did you wake me in the middle of the night, you woke me to show me you destroyed my house,’ 

‘You’re so dramatic,’ Rolling your eyes at your sister's comments, making your way through the scrap pieces of paper, glitter, markers and tape that littered the room, to pick up what you’d been working on, ‘So…?’  

Katie’s eyes softened the moment you stood in front of her, the little handmade gift in your arms with a dumb proud look on your face, ‘Alright, give it here,’ Katie begrudgingly held out her hand so you could give her the gift so she could look at i properly. The more she looked at it the more she couldn’t be mad with you for waking her up, in all honesty Katie could hardly be mad at you for long anyway there was just something about you that stopped almost anyone from being mad or annoyed with you for a long time.

‘Mac, Steph is gonna love this,’ You let out a soft sigh, your eyes hopeful as Katie gave the gift back to you.

‘Yeah? Are you sure?’ There was always a flicker of doubt that crossed over you. Since Alexia you struggled a lot more than you had previously, doubting your actions and second guessing the things you did. You still hadn’t properly let Steph in, struggling to get too close in case things came crashing down suddenly. 

You hadn’t been with Steph for a long time, though you know it was definitely long enough that saying ‘I love you’ would be acceptable. Steph was always understanding when it came to you, even without the little warning talk your older sister gave her, you couldn’t be more thankful. It was your first valentine’s together and you hoped that this gift would show and tell Steph that you love her, even if you couldn’t find the words to say it just yet.

You’d come a long way since you moved to England, but these little moments Katie hated when flickers of self doubt ran through your mind knowing where they’d stemmed from, ‘I’m 100% positive. Steph looks at you like you hung the moon and the stars yourself,’ You looked down, letting out a small breath, half a laugh, trying to keep your cheeks from heating up too much, ‘You could probably give her a speck of glitter and she’d talk about how she was the luckiest person in the world,’ 

Katie had definitely overheard way too many conversations Steph talking about you to Beth. At first she deliberately eavesdropped just to make sure Steph was treating you right but since then she wished she would stop running into that situation. There’s only so many times Katie can stand to hear it, especially since she has to hear it from you all the time. 

‘Yeah…yeah you’re right,’ Your smile was bashful, always was when you thought of Steph. There was a moment where you didn’t think you would ever feel this way about someone again. After a long few years, you found and let yourself have that happiness again.

‘I always am,’ Katie smirked while stifling a yawn, a reminder at how early it was and that the two of you should definitely be asleep, ‘Now my house better not look like a glitter bomb exploded when I get up later,’ You rolled your eyes as Katie made her way back up the stairs to her room but not before shouting back down at you, ‘And maybe try to get some sleep,’

‘Yes ma,’ You shouted back up at her, laughing when you heard Katie’s door shut a bit more loud than normal.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

‘Stephy, hi,’ You wrapped your arms around Steph’s waist, giving her a quick little hug, greeting her since you’d just arrived at training, ‘Happy Valentine’s day,’ You spoke softly, sitting next to her so your shoulders were touching and handing her a singular rose you’d picked up on your way to training that morning.

‘Aw, happy Valentine's day,’ Steph took the rose from you, giving you a kiss on your cheek, ‘You look like you haven’t slept,’ Steph commented, her hand brushing some stray hairs back from your face, a little bit of worry etched on her face.

‘She hasn’t and neither have I,’ Katie grumbled from the other side of the room. Steph looked between the two of you, silently questioning.

‘Don’t worry about it. You know how Katie is-’

‘Dramatic,’ Steph finished off what you were saying, sharing a laugh between the two of you before you were being hit with a shoe that came at you from across the room.

‘Hey!’ Katie just shot you a look that said you had it coming before she left the pair of you, ‘Anyway, we still on for tonight?’ 

‘Of course, I wouldn't miss getting to spend a night with you,’ Steph leaned her head on your shoulder, looking down at the rose that she was still holding on to. She was trying to stay calm but still every time she was close to you, her stomach erupted in that nice fuzzy, full of butterflies kind of feeling. Steph was grateful you gave her a chance, she didn’t know everything that happened in Barcelona, but she saw a lot of the aftermath when you moved. 

After training Steph drove the two of you back to where you were staying with Katie, your hand placed on top of hers, lacing your fingers together. Katie wasn’t going to be home, you made sure of it, wanting to make your first Valentine’s day night together as special as you could. You’d already set up everything before you left this morning, triple checking everything so you didn’t forget a single thing.

‘I’m sorry we aren’t going out or doing anything particularly special,’ The nerves started taking over, you were worried that this wouldn’t be special enough, or just enough in general for Steph. You were putting a lot of pressure on yourself for tonight to be perfect.

‘Shh, love, a night in with you is perfect and just what I- we both need. I don’t care what we do, as long as I’m with you,’ Steph gently turned you so you were facing her, a hand lifting your head so you were looking at her. You could see in her eyes that she meant every word. Steph leant her forehead against yours, ‘Hi,’

You let out a giggle, brushing your nose softly against hers, ‘Hi,’ Your lips finding hers, a quick but firm kiss. Pulling away, or at least Steph tried to, but not before you pulled her back in for another little kiss, holding onto her so she wouldn’t go further than just in the doorway, ‘You gotta close your eyes,’ 

You also covered Steph’s eyes with your hands just to make sure she wouldn’t try to sneak a peek at your surprise for her. Trying to lead Steph throughout the house, whisper yelling at coopurr when he wouldn’t move out of the way, you didn’t want Steph to trip over anything and he just wasn’t cooperating with you. 

You smiled at Steph’s laughs, you’d complained about the cat quite a few times to her, how he was always out to get you but anytime Steph was around he was always an angel, but to you was a different story, ‘Leave poor Coopurr alone, he just wants to see his favourite person,’ Steph teased

‘I’ll tell Katie you said that,’ Successfully clearing the path to where you wanted to lead Steph to.

‘You wouldn’t,’ Steph had already taken her little sister from her, she wouldn’t risk Katie hearing she was taking her son too, they still had to play together.

‘Try me babe,’ You smirked when Steph gasped a little in surprise when she felt your lips on hers. Your hands slowly uncovered her eyes, resting them on her waist and pulling Steph against you. You pulled away, slightly out of breath but still holding Steph in your arms. Her eyes widened when she took a quick glance over your shoulder.

‘All that…for me?’ Steph was in shock looking at everything you had set up. A teddy bear holding a bouquet of flowers, some heart shaped chocolates and chocolate covered strawberries, heart shaped balloons and in the middle of it all were three neatly wrapped presents. Presents you’d rewrapped a million times each, wanting to make sure they were wrapped perfectly.

It really looked like a scene from those cheesy rom coms the two of you had indulged in many times together. You’d gone all out but Steph meant the world to you and you needed her to know, ‘It’s our first Valentine’s together, I wanted to make it special for you,’ You had your arm around Steph’s waist, keeping her pulled into your side while she took it all in.

‘You make every day special,’ Steph leaned her head on your shoulder, turning her head to look at you. You looked down, smiling softly at her, ‘Thank you my love,’ 

‘Anything for you Stephy,’ You whispered, the music in the background seemed dull, the two of you lost in each other, ‘So which one did you want to open first?’ You nodded towards the presents, nervous but eager to see what Steph thought of them, in particular the one you had made for her.

Steph let out a small laugh, her hand gently squeezing yours and shuffling close to you, as if she could get any closer, ‘I’ve already got my favourite present right here,’ Turning her head she brushed her lips against your neck, a shiver shot down your spine. You bit your lip, closing your eyes briefly to try to compose yourself. Though it was always hard around Steph.

‘You’re my favourite too,’ You smiled sheepishly, slight redness appearing over your cheeks. Steph kissed your neck more firmly, her lips lingering. You could feel her smile against your skin and it was enough to send your heart racing, ‘Alright, no more teasing,’ You whined softly, feeling her press more kisses against your neck.

Steph reluctantly pulled away and let you lead her to sit on the couch. Your hands shook slightly as you picked up the present you’d spent hours making, hoping that holding onto it would make the shaking less noticeable. You knew Steph noticed when her eyes softened, though to be fair to Steph her eyes always softened when she looked at you but you could tell there was something different behind her eyes.

‘Hey,’ Steph spoke softly, her hand resting against your thigh once you’d sat next to her, ‘It’s just me,’ She smiled at you reassuringly. You relaxed as much as you could almost instantly, the effect Steph had on you, you both loved and felt terrified over it. 

‘I just really hope you’ll like it,’ You looked down, placing the gift on Steph’s lap, ‘And if you don’t- I- There’s a few more, maybe you’ll like one of those,’ Nervously you rambled, a habit that would overcome you every time you got nervous or anxious. 

‘Mac baby, it’s from you,’ Steph held the present, her smile never wavering, ‘I’m going to love it,’ You nodded your head, taking a deep breath. You still hated how unsure of yourself you could get, maybe one day you’ll get back to being your usually confident self more often than not. 

While Steph was opening the present, your eyes were glued to your hands, not wanting to see any potential rejection at the present you made. Though what you really missed was Steph’s mouth opening in surprise, the few little tears that welled up in the corners of her eyes and the love she looked at every page with. 

You spent hours putting together a little scrapbook. A scrapbook that held all the memories and love you had for each other. From the trips and memories you made while you were ‘just friends’ to the last few months that you’d officially been together for. You included Steph’s favourite colours amongst the markers, paper and glitter that you used. Lots of hearts over each page. So many photos of the two of you from over the last year.

‘Wow- I-’ Steph couldn’t find the words to tell you how much it meant to her. Your eyes wide when you finally looked her way, expecting to see a form of hatred or disgust, instead you were met with her lips on yours. 

Blindly Steph put the scrapbook to the side, pushing you down against the couch, your lips never leaving each other. Your hands found their way to her hips, fingers grazing underneath the hem of her shirt, dancing along Steph’s bare skin. Steph put all of her emotion and feelings for you into the kiss, deepening it, pressing herself against you more.

Your cheeks were flushed, lips swollen when you finally broke away from each other, besides for the little pecks you’d both give, never getting enough, ‘So you liked it…’ You let out a breathy laugh, voice trailing off still getting your breath back.

‘More than liked it babe,’ Steph’s hand rested against your cheek, her thumb rubbing gently, ‘You’re too sweet and thoughtful. I really like you…’ 

‘I really like you too,’ There was a look of understanding shared in that moment. The words you both wanted to say were on the tips of your lips, even though neither of you actually said it, you could see it in each other's eyes and that was enough for now.

[definitelynotanalien]

Ask: I love your 'Co-parenting Nagi with Reo' fic! It's sooo cute. If you feel like it could you maybe write a second part where Nagi tries to get them back together because my man just wants to fucking nap without having to Deal with two idiots fighting over his time? 🤍💜

P2 to this

The much too gaudy building stood tall in front of you, Reo’s mansion. It was large and over decorated, nothing had changed from the last time you were there.

A familiar buzz filled your ears, and you entered the building through the gate with your newly granted access.

Checking your phone, you reread the message Nagi sent you in the morning.

at reo’s house

sick :x

How vague. Fortunately you had kept Reo’s number, and unfortunately you had to unblock it to get more information about the situation.

According to Reo, Nagi was seemingly ailed and couldn’t leave Reo’s home, which was why he had contacted you to inform you. It’s a bit of a shame, seeing as this was your day to keep Nagi, but nevertheless life must go on.

You click the button for the floor the pair are apparently on, and wait for the elevator to go.

Hopefully you didn’t have to deal with this for too long, or at least you didn’t have to deal with being around him. In a perfect world Nagi would be faking sickness to get out of football training, but this isn’t a perfect world.

The lift arrived at the floor with a ding, the doors opening slowly, presenting you with the sorrowful sight in front of you.

Nagi was lying in bed, groaning weakly, as Reo attempted to feed him some soup.

You rush in, standing by the white-haired boy's side. “Nagi, are you okay?”

The bed was wrinkled, and Nagi laid like a corpse. His arms were tossed to the sides, while his legs sat haphazardly on the bed. One was dangling off, the other in a weird position.

He coughed, and Reo stared at him as if he was glass about to shatter. “I’m sick.” He responded, the corners of his mouth going downwards ever so slightly.

Usually, you’d call Nagi out for faking. He tended to pretend to be ill whenever you or Reo wanted him to do something he deemed a “hassle”, but what made your heart pound was how Nagi wasn’t on his phone.

“He’s been like this since we woke up. And he won’t let me call a doctor.” Reo explained, “I got a chef to make him some soup, but he refuses to eat it.”

Reo motioned towards the food he was trying to spoon feed Nagi with, it was professional and the colours looked dull. It lacked real warmth, despite it being steaming hot.

You inwardly sighed, “Nagi, why won’t you eat the soup?” You asked, as if he was a petulant child.

“S’not good.” He turned to his side, back facing you.

You and Reo exchange equally exasperated glances, for a second you’re taken back to the first time Nagi was ill, when Reo and you were still dating and everything was good. When you hadn’t overcomplicated the relationship, and you actually spent time together. You missed it.

You shake your head, shaking the thoughts away. “Nagi, do you want me to make you something?”

He nods lazily, his fluffy white hair flopping effortlessly on his head.

Reo stands up, placing the tray with the food on the bedside table. “I’ll guide you to the kitchen.” He offers his hand for a moment, seemingly out of reflex, before snatching it away. In the corner of your eye you see Nagi smirk, then, once you turn towards him he returns to his deadpan expression.

There’s a sudden shift in the atmosphere before the two of you leave the room, Nagi seems almost pleased? Perhaps he’s just glad you’re making something for him.

You follow his movements towards the elevator down wordlessly, fidgeting with your fingers.

“How have you been?” He asks, clicking the button to call the lift.

He says it so effortlessly, as if the pair of you are mere strangers who are forced to make awkward small talk out of sheer politeness, you hate it. You hate how it makes your chest twist ever so slightly.

“I’ve been fine, thank you for asking.” You respond, rehearsed and dry. “How are you?”

Reo bites the inside of his mouth, it’s only noticeable due to the slight crinkle below his lower lip. One that you were used to seeing.

“I’m well.”

“That’s nice.”

An awkward silence continues, and time seems to flow slowly around you. Why does Reo’s lift take so long to get to your floor?

You continue to fidget with your fingers, waiting for a familiar sound as you zone out, looking at everything but your ex's face.

Reo glances at you ever so often, looking at your marble carved features, ones that could be on a statue. He admires the face he used to love, to worship, and he wonders what could have been. But the two of you have moved on, right?

A ding lights up the room.

“Lift’s here.” You announce, rather stupidly as Reo surely knows that it’s arrived.

He lets you step inside first, his hand on the side to prevent it from closing automatically. “Kitchen’s on the second floor.” He says.

You press the button, and the two of you begin to wait alone in the lift.

Then, the elevator shakes. It’s stuck.

Shit.

[hellodarling1357]

More Than A Moment: Part 1 - Cassian x Reader (AU!)

What? A post? A whole new fic? After months of broken promises (rip me)?

I sporadically got the inspo to write today and this idea just flowed on out and all but wrote itself!

Is this a stand alone? A multi-part (I hope so)?

Who knows!

Either way, I hope you enjoy 🥰

Summary: After a drunken night between friends, just friends, nothing more, Y/N and Cassian’s lives end up changing forever. But maybe not in the way they had originally expected.

Word Count: 1.5k

“Cassian!” You shout through the door, one fist pounding on the wooden frame as the other, hidden away in your coat pocket, held tightly to what had felt like a lifeline since you had raced to the store just over an hour ago.

“Cassian! I swear to god if you don’t open the door right now…” You took a step back as your fist met the air, the words dying in your throat as a girl with sleep mussed hair, wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt that you knew belonged to Cassian, stared back at you with a look of distaste.

“What?” The girl asked, stifling a yawn as her eyes blatantly looked you up and down, a smirk spreading across her lips as she took in your frazzled appearance. “We’re a little busy here, so…”

You blinked at her before pushing past and making your way inside the small apartment, ignoring the girl’s protest as you beelined for Cassian’s room, stopping momentarily as the door opened before you could reach it.

“Y/N. Hey,” the man in question was straightening out a tight black t-shirt, having clearly put on the closest items of clothing he could reach. “I didn’t expect to see you today, especially not at 8 am on a Sunday morning…”

“We need to talk.”

“Okay, alright. Could this not have waited until a more reasonable time?”

“Cass, please…”

Clearly picking up on the slight plea in your voice, he nodded, a slight furrow to his brow as he studied you a moment longer before turning to the girl who remained bristling by the front door.

“Hey,” he started, beckoning the girl towards him, you cringed as you took a seat on the couch, not wanting to be a part of the scene that was about to unfold. “So last night was fun, yeah? But I think there’s a few things I need to deal with here so we should probably wrap this up for now?”

“Oh? So you want me to leave?” You rolled your eyes as she clung to him, battering her lashes in hopes of changing his mind as he led her back into his room to help her collect her things, not missing the daggers she sent your way when Cassian’s back was turned.

“It’s not that I want you to leave… But I’ll call you. Soon, alright?”

“You better.”

Barely managing to conceal your scoff you busied yourself with your phone as she pulled him down into a lingering kiss.

“Alright, well get home safe and thanks again for last night…” Cassian trailed off and your attention flickered over in disbelief as he clearly tried to scramble for the poor girl’s name.

“Rebecca. My name’s Rebecca.” Her icy tone was a stark contrast as she moved out of his grasp.

“Of course, I know your name. How could I forget? I was just deciding whether I wanted to start calling you babe or baby.”

You didn’t attempt to hide the disgust at your friend as he shot the girl a charming smile that had her swooning as she said her goodbyes - all iciness melting into a flirtatiously shy smile as she stared up at him from under heavy lashes.

“You really can be a pig sometimes, you do realise that?” You said without looking up from your phone once Cassian had shut the door behind the girl.

“What?” He asked, voice laced in indignation as he slumped onto the couch beside you.

“Oh I dunno, do I call you babe or baby? Of course I remember your name, random-girl-I’ll-never-actually-call.” You lowered your voice into a mockery of his own before being met with a pillow to your face as Cassian got up and headed towards the bathroom.

“Hey, I just got rid of a perfectly nice girl for you. No need for the disrespect. What’s so important anyway? You know I love to see you and all that, but usually not at this time.” He leant against the bathroom door, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth as he stared at you waiting for an answer.

Right.

You had almost forgotten that you were here for a reason other than witnessing one of your closest friends be a complete dick to a girl he’d spent the previous night with.

“Oh… Um yeah it’s all good. Get dressed or whatever then we can chat.”

Cassian stared at you for a moment longer before shrugging and returning to the bathroom. You slumped back as soon as you were out of sight, squashing the pillow Cassian had previously whacked you with against your face as your thoughts raced through your head. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

By the time Cassian was ready, you had had enough time to work yourself into a somewhat frantic state as you paced back and forth, trying to figure out how to even bring up the reason why you had almost knocked down his door on a seemingly normal Sunday.

“Jesus, what’s up with you this morning?” Your head whipped around to face Cassian, freezing mid-pace to stare at him like a deer in headlights. When the only reply you could muster was the very unsubtle opening and closing of your mouth, Cassian let out a sigh as he reached for his shoes. “Well, seeing that you appear to have a whole heap of pent up energy, we’re walking to the cafe down the street. Your shout for waking me up and prematurely ending what was sure to be a very satisfying Sunday morning.”

You scrunched your nose but nodded all the same as you silently headed towards the door, missing the concerned look on Cassian’s face as his eyes trailed your retreating figure before he jumped up to follow you out.

——

The ten minute walk was silent except for the slight crunch of autumn leaves under foot as the pair of you narrowly avoided the early risers who were jogging past along the footpath and manoeuvred around the copious stream of families with young children enjoying the crisp morning air; your heart rate soared as you tried to control your breathing

Cassian managed to score a secluded table tucked away by the window, thanking the waiter for the menus and water as you stared past him in a daze, your mind reeled of how to approach telling him what had happened, what had resulted from…

A large hand waving in front of your face had you blinking in surprise.

“Y/N?”

“Yep. Hi.”

Cassian gave you another quizzical look but was halted from saying anything else as the waiter returned, asking about coffee and food orders.

“Just a long black for me, thanks.”

You could hear your heartbeat and wouldn’t be surprised if everyone around you could as well.

“Y/N?” Cassian gave you a soft kick under the table, pulling your attention to the waiter who was looking at you expectantly.

“Oh, um… Just a latte. Thank you,” Shit. Could you even have coffee now? “Wait. I mean, no. Just a tea. Peppermint, please. If you have it. Sorry.” Your voice trailed after the waiter as he nodded and walked off with a shake of his head. So far, this was not going well.

“Alright, what has gotten into you?” The immediate retort of ‘um you?’ was held back by a bite of your tongue. “You better not be here confessing your love for me. I mean we spoke about this, right? It was just a one off, drunken night between two friends who both happen to be very attractive.”

Some of the tension left your shoulders as you offered a small smile in appreciation of Cassian’s attempt to lighten the mood.

“You’re not actually in love with me are you?” You rolled your eyes at the slight panic in his expression, deciding not to take it as an insult. “I mean, I love you, but, you know, as a friend. Because we’re friends. We’re all friends; me, you, Rhys, Az, Feyre, Mor…”

“Cassian,” you let the smile grow a bit as he prattled on. “I’m not in love with you.”

“Oh, thank god. No offence.” He offered you a guilty looking smile which softened as he nodded in encouragement for you to continue.

“But I did want to talk about that night…” You trailed off, trying to gauge Cassian’s response as he quirked his head to the side and furrowed his brows in confusion. Well, here it goes. Taking in a deep breath, you reached into your pocked and placed the pregnancy test on the table.

“Cass, I’m pregnant.”

----------

I have so many ideas for this and how I want to continue it but would love to hear your thoughts!!

[tsukumomei]

OKOKOK in my mind in the “puppy love” fic, reader is moving to spain

and then three years later sae comes to spain cause he gets scouted by re al you know the story

and so they meet again ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 (they have cute “dates” if you will, where she shows him around spain and what not 🤭)

now idk if you’re taking requests at the moment, or even want to write a part two for this, but i (and many others i feel like) would LOVE to see this!

no force though, if you do wish to write it take your time, and if you don’t it’s all fine too!

much love, xoxo 💋

a/n: This is actually insane because this is EXACTLY what I had in mind for a bonus part! I was originally going to end it when they saw each other again, but I took your request and wrote about their dates too. Enjoy! Mwah! I wouldn’t consider this a part 2, though—if I ever write one, it’ll still be from Rin’s POV. But I’m open to writing more bonus parts for this fic, so feel free to send me an ask! ^^

—RIGHT WHERE WE LEFT OFF

ft. Sae Itoshi

a bonus chapter for Puppy Love

synposis: Sae moves to Madrid after getting scouted by Real, but he has two problems. One—he hates it. The city feels unfamiliar, foreign, nothing like home. Two—he’s determined to forget about you. But the harder he tries, the more his own mind betrays him—because no matter what he does, everything leads him right back to you. wc: 3.1 k

The shuffling in Sae’s carry-on grows more frantic as he impatiently searches for that notebook from you.

It was the first thing he stuffed into his bag.

Flipping through the worn pages, his eyes finally land on the last one—covered in messy scribbles, but the only thing that stands out is a single line written in red ink at the bottom:

"Wait for me. ❤️ Y/N"

Sae presses his thumb against the words, as if touching them could somehow bring back the past. Could somehow make you feel real again.

He leans back into his seat, staring out at the endless stretch of sky beyond the plane window, but it’s not Madrid he’s thinking about. It’s you.

This morning, back at the house, he’d been kicking a soccer ball around the backyard, the steady thud of leather against concrete filling the quiet air. Rin was there too, watching him with a knowing look before finally speaking up.

"Nii-chan, it was just puppy love."

Maybe it was. Maybe Rin was right.

But if it was just puppy love, why is it still lingering?

Why did he still worry—that if you ever came back, that you’d be mad at him for not being there?

It’s been three years.

The chances of seeing you again were close to impossible.

—

Sae steps into his new apartment in Madrid, rolling his suitcase inside as his manager gestures around the space.

“This is your living room,” his manager begins, flipping on the lights. The apartment is modern, minimalistic—exactly what Sae expected. “Kitchen’s over there. Fridge is stocked for now, but you’ll need to do your own groceries after this week.”

Sae nods, setting his bag neatly by the couch.

“The bedroom’s down the hall,” the manager continues, walking ahead. “Bathroom’s connected. There’s a desk if you need to study or review game footage. Wi-Fi’s already set up.”

Sae peeks into the bedroom—plain, clean, nothing extravagant. Just a bed, a nightstand, and a small window overlooking the street below.

“You’re across the hall?” Sae asks as they return to the main area.

“Yeah,” his manager confirms, crossing. “If you need anything, just knock.”

Sae scoffs lightly. “I’ll be fine.”

His manager gives him a once-over, then exhales. “Good. Then I’ll leave you to settle in.”

With that, the manager steps out, leaving Sae alone.

The moment the door clicks shut, Sae gets to work. He unzips his luggage, methodically putting his clothes away, setting his toiletries in the bathroom, and neatly stacking his training gear by the closet. He takes mental notes of what he needs—more food, basic supplies, maybe an extra pillow.

Once everything is in place, he pulls out his phone and dials home.

His mother picks up almost immediately. “Sae?”

“I just landed and got to the apartment,” he informs her, his voice steady. “Everything’s fine.”

“That’s good,” she says warmly. “Have you eaten?”

“I will soon.”

“Don’t just eat whatever’s fastest. Make sure you’re getting proper meals.”

Sae hums in acknowledgment before adding, “Tell Dad I made it safely. And Rin, too.”

“Of course,” his mother says. There’s a brief pause, then a softer, knowing tone in her voice. “It feels real now, doesn’t it?”

Sae leans against the counter, staring at the empty space around him. His new home. His new life.

“Yeah,” he murmurs.

After a few more exchanges, he hangs up, setting his phone aside.

His eyes drift to his carry-on, to the one thing he hadn’t put away yet.

The notebook.

The worn cover, the slightly frayed edges—he traces them with his fingers before flipping it open once again. The pages are filled with your handwriting, messy yet familiar, scrawled with thoughts and doodles from years ago.

It’s ridiculous, really. He hasn’t seen you in three years. He has no idea where you are, if you’re still in the same country, if you even remember him the way he remembers you.

But memories flood in anyway. The afternoons spent at the park, your determined expression when you first crashed his soccer game, the way you always talked too much but somehow, he never minded. The way you scribbled on his arm once with the same red ink you used to write—

"Wait for me. ❤️ y/n"

Sae exhales sharply and shuts the notebook.

Maybe it really was just puppy love.

He stands, grabs his wallet, and heads for the door.

He needs to get out, get familiar with the city. He’s going to live here now, after all.

—

The city is foreign, unfamiliar—Sae hates it.

He was never one for traveling. The only reason he’s here is to play soccer at an international level, but outside of that, it feels suffocating in a way he never expected.

The streets are too loud yet too quiet at the same time. He doesn’t understand the conversations happening around him, the unfamiliar syllables blending into meaningless noise. The people pass by in a blur, all strangers, none of them acknowledging him beyond quick  glances.

It’s not like he’s stupid enough to get scammed—he’s careful, always aware of his surroundings. But that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t belong here. It doesn’t change how frustrating it is to have all this free time and nowhere to go, no one to turn to.

The city is alive, buzzing with movement, but it only makes the loneliness feel sharper.

—

Today marks his second week in Madrid.

Sae realizes just how useless he is when it comes to directions.

The sun is already beginning to set, casting a golden glow over Madrid, and he has no idea where he is.

The street signs might as well be in a foreign language—which, technically, they are. He squints at them, but the unfamiliar words blur together, useless in helping him find his way. And as for Spanish? Well, he knows about as much as a toddler forming his first sentence.

Great.

Of course, it’s at a time like this that he remembers you.

Because you were always the human GPS between the two of you, navigating streets like you had a built-in map inside your head. You always knew the right turns to take, the fastest shortcuts.

And right now? Right now, he is the one most in need of that skill.

Rin thinks Sae is perfect, so he probably doesn’t even know about this little flaw of his.

Sae scoffs to himself, shaking his head. It’s ridiculous that, even now, when he’s supposed to be moving on, he still finds himself thinking about you.

He exhales sharply, pushing the thoughts away.

Enough.

With renewed determination, Sae steps onto the crosswalk, telling himself—again—that it’s time to leave his childhood love in the past.

But by the time he reaches the middle, doubt creeps in—just enough for him to hesitate, just enough for him to misstep.

And just enough for him to accidentally bump into someone walking from the opposite direction.

"Perdón," the girl mutters, barely sparing him a glance—until she does.

She stops short, eyes widening in surprise.

"Oh."

Sae blinks.

"It’s you."

For a moment, the city fades into the background. The people rushing past, the hum of conversation, the faint honking of impatient drivers—it all disappears.

You look different now. Your hair is dyed, a little wavier than before. A stylish bag hangs off your shoulder, outfit effortlessly put together in a way that makes you stand out even in the middle of Madrid.

But to him, you’re still the same stubborn girl who once barged into his soccer game with Rin, the one who never asked for permission—just demanded a pass like you belonged there. The one who never looked at him like everyone else did.

Your eyes are the same. That’s what catches him the most. Time has changed a lot of things, but not that. They still hold the same warmth, the same quiet confidence.

Sae wonders if he looks different to you, too. If you notice the way his shoulders have grown broader, the way the exhaustion lingers under his eyes. If you can tell that beneath all the fame and titles, there’s still a part of him that never stopped waiting for you.

Neither of you speak. Just stood there, caught in something neither of you were prepared for.

Sae exhales, then—without thinking—extends his hand toward you

But before you can take it, a sharp whistle cuts through the air.

"¡Oye! Move it!"

The traffic officer’s whistle cuts through the air, snapping both of you out of your daze.

Startled, you both turn at the same time, realizing the light has already turned green—and you’re still standing in the middle of the crosswalk.

Reality has always had a way of interrupting you two, hasn’t it?

Sae clenches his jaw, frustration flickering across his face. Meanwhile, you weren’t handling it any better—because instead of just walking away like a normal person, you were flipping off the traffic officer and hurling a wooden spoon at him.

Where did you even get that? Sae has no idea. And honestly, he’s not sure he wants to.

But then he feels you grab his arm, yanking him across the street as you break into a run—both of you fleeing from the traffic officer, who Sae can only assume is cursing you out in rapid Spanish.

And just like that, his expression softens.

—

“Whew, that was close,” you say between heavy breaths, still catching your breath from all that running.

Sae glances at you, unimpressed. “Maybe if you didn’t throw a spoon at him, we wouldn’t have to run.”

You roll your eyes, waving him off. “Oh, please. That guy already hates me. This isn’t even the first time, you know.”

Sae raises a brow. “Not surprised.”

You nudge him with your elbow. “Hey! Rude.”

He exhales sharply, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “What did you do to piss him off before?”

You smirk, tilting your head playfully. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Sae gives you a look—unamused but intrigued nonetheless. “I would, actually.”

You grin, pretending to think. “Let’s just say… it involved a churro cart, an old lady, and a very, very unfortunate slip on my part.”

Sae stares at you for a moment before shaking his head. “You’re a menace.” 

You flash him a cheeky smile. “And yet, here you are, running away from traffic officers with me.”

He huffs but doesn’t argue. Because, somehow, you’re right—because he’s relieved that he can finally talk to someone other than his manager, and just as relieved to see that you haven’t changed at all.

Isn’t it ironic? The very day he decides to finally let go of your memory, fate throws you right back into his life.

But something nags at him. You haven’t asked about Madrid, about why he’s here. It’s like you’re not surprised at all, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to bump into him on the street.

Sae narrows his eyes slightly before speaking. “Hey, you’re not gonna ask?”

“Ask what?” you blink at him, confused. Then, as if remembering something, your face lights up. “Oh! Where are my manners?”

Before he can react, you throw yourself at him, wrapping him in a warm embrace.

Sae stiffens, caught completely off guard. But before he can say anything, you sigh dramatically against his shoulder. “I missed you so much! I can’t believe you followed me all the way to Spain. Oh, you really do love me.”

He clicks his tongue, exasperated. You’re being an idiot again—definitely pushing it.

But he doesn’t argue. He doesn’t deny it.

Instead, after a brief hesitation, he exhales and wraps a single arm around you, listening as you ramble on like no time has passed at all.

—

“Maybe I should put a tracker on you.” you tease, walking a step ahead of Sae as you lead him through the narrow streets of Madrid.  

He exhales sharply, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I would’ve figured it out eventually.”  

You throw him a look over your shoulder. “Yeah, sure. After getting lost for another three hours.”  

Sae doesn’t bother denying it. Instead, he follows as you turn into an alleyway, stopping in front of a small, unassuming café tucked between two buildings. 

“This place has the best tostada con tomate in the city,” you say, nodding toward the café. 

“The old man inside—Rafa—he always yells at me for ordering too much, but then he sneaks me an extra pastry for free.”  

As if on cue, the door swings open, and an elderly man steps out. His eyes land on you, and a slow grin spreads across his face. “¡Ah, mira quién es! La niña que me arruina el negocio.” (Ah, look who it is! The girl who’s ruining my business.)  

You laugh, stepping forward to greet him. “Don’t lie, Rafa. You love me.”  

Rafa scoffs but affectionately ruffles your hair before turning to Sae, eyes narrowing in scrutiny. “¿Y este quién es?” (And who’s this?)  

“My amigo,” you reply smoothly, though there’s a glint of mischief in your eyes. “He just moved here, so I’m showing him around.”  

Rafa studies Sae for a moment before nodding in approval. “Bien. Come inside. I’ll make sure he eats something decent.”  

Sae barely has time to protest before you’re dragging him through the door, the scent of warm spices and grilled meat immediately filling the air. The restaurant is small, a little tucked away from the busier streets, but it’s lively, filled with laughter and the soft hum of conversation.

When the food arrives, you dig in without hesitation, taking a bite and immediately letting out a dramatic sigh. “Oh my god,” you moan, clutching your chest like you’ve just ascended to heaven. “This is it. This is what happiness tastes like.”

Sae raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You sound ridiculous.”

“You sound jealous,” you retort, shoveling another bite into your mouth. “You haven’t even touched your food.”

Sae watches you for a moment. The way you eat so shamelessly, without a care for how you look, is something he vaguely remembers from when you were kids. Some things never change.

“I’m just letting you be the poison tester,” he mutters, finally picking up his fork.

You roll your eyes. “Please. If Rafa wanted to kill me, he would’ve done it years ago.”

Rafa, passing by, snorts. “She’s not wrong.”

Sae sighs, finally taking a bite. He won’t admit it, but it’s good. Really good.

Just as you’re finishing your plate, you glance at your phone and stand abruptly. “Be right back. Don’t go running off without me.”

Sae only scoffs in response, watching as you disappear towards the bathroom. The moment you’re gone, Rafa leans against the counter, wiping his hands on a towel before turning to Sae with a knowing smirk.

“She talked about you before, you know,” Rafa says casually.

Sae tenses slightly. “Did she?”

Rafa nods, chuckling. “Not by name. Just 'some guy I used to know who’s hopeless with anything besides soccer and even worse with emotions.'”

Sae huffs. “Sounds like something she'd say.”

Rafa shrugs. “Well, if you’re sticking around, you better get used to her dragging you everywhere. She’s got a habit of making lost people feel at home.”

Sae doesn’t respond, just looks at him, expression unreadable. Rafa only chuckles, shaking his head as he wipes down the counter.

A moment later, you return, eyes narrowing the second you spot them. “What’s this?” you ask suspiciously, sliding back into your seat. “What were you two talking about?”

Rafa smirks, tilting his head towards Sae. “Oh, nothing much. Just sharing stories.”

You gasp dramatically, pointing a finger at Sae. “You weren’t talking bad about me, were you?”

Sae finally speaks, deadpan. “Wouldn’t need to. You embarrass yourself enough.”

You scoff, reaching over to steal a piece of food from his plate. “Unbelievable. I leave for one second, and you two become best friends conspiring against me.”

Rafa laughs. “Don’t worry, querida. He’s not that easy to befriend.”

You nod sagely. “That’s true. I had to force him to like me.”

Sae rolls his eyes. That was true for most people, but definitely not for you.

He liked you from the get-go, like there was a gravitational pull towards you that he just couldn't escape from.

The day continues like that.  

You don’t take him to the usual tourist spots—the grand plazas or famous museums. Instead, you show him the Madrid you love.  

A tucked-away bookstore where the owner lets you sit and read for hours without buying anything. A tiny family-run tapas bar where the food is cheap but incredible, and the owners greet you like family. A rooftop spot where you swear the sunset looks better than anywhere else in the city.  

Everywhere you go, you introduce him like he belongs there.  

By the time the sky turns golden, Sae realizes something.  

This isn’t just a city to you. It’s a home.  

And for the first time since moving here, Madrid doesn’t feel so unfamiliar to him anymore.  

Maybe it’s because he’s finally seeing it through your eyes.

And maybe that so-called puppy love Rin kept telling him about is beginning to grow into something more.

a/n: "Puppy Love" is the one and only beloved Sae Itoshi fanfic franchise that will remain untouched by despair. I wholeheartedly believe that at some point during his four years in Spain, Sae had his dreams crushed and utterly heartbroken. But in this au? nah. no angst, no career-crushing disappointments, Just endless, tooth-rotting fluff and relationship bliss. The kind of soft, sweet moments Sae would never admit he enjoys. Because for once, he deserves to have something go perfectly right.

[4vanaa]

WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING, rafe cameron, 19

summary: y/n left the outer banks years ago, determined to build a life far from the memories of her childhood love, rafe cameron. now a botanist, she's moved on-though a quiet part of her still clings to the past. when an event brings her back to OBX, she's forced to confront the one person she never truly forgot.

cw: none | masterlist | 18 | 20 |

rafeupdates 3h

liked by rafefan, weekndlover, and 25,670 others

rafeupdates Rafe Cameron spotted out with friends tonight in the Outer Banks before his sister’s wedding! He was seen laughing and talking with the group, but fans couldn’t help but notice one mystery girl who had his attention all night. 👀 Who is she??

view all comments

carter_bby WHO is the girl in the black dress bc Rafe was looking at her like she hung the moon

rafeszn nahhh this gotta be the girl he’s always singing about… he’s back home, the lyrics always mention ‘small town’ and ‘should’ve never left’ 👀

rafecameronwifey y’all I’m sick. physically unwell.

user not me abt to deep dive through his following. we will FIND HER.

brooklyn24 lmao let me know what you find bc I need answers.

kildarefan someone in the group tagged a girl on their story but her acc is PRIVATE. this might be her 😭

obsessedoverrafe he better not be soft-launching someone right now bc I’ll actually cry.

carolinagirlxo I’m gonna hold off my jealousy until we have real proof but it’s NOT looking good for us 😭

rafeswife the way he’s staring at her in EVERY clip… like sir blink twice if ur okay

user24 um. y’all. the girl literally has a boyfriend 😭 there’s a pic in someone’s story where a guy has his arm around her.

camrafe WAIT and in another one they’re literally kissing wtf. Rafe why u staring like that 😭

basketballbaby NOOOO NOT UNREQUITED FEELINGS I CAN’T DO THIS TODAY

allthingsrafe no bc imagine being her bf and seeing rafe cameron looking at ur girl like that… I’d simply walk into the ocean.

xorafe wait. didn’t he say in that interview last year that he was in love with a girl who had a boyfriend??? and we all thought he was joking??

xoangelkiss LMFAO NOT RAFE LIVING HIS OWN LYRICS. THIS IS A FANFIC.

abelfan the way we should’ve KNOWN bc he makes music w the weeknd… of COURSE he’s gonna be messy 😭

rafeupdates2.0 hold on bc people are saying her bf isn’t even all that… let’s be so serious.

camwife imagine having rafe cameron writing songs abt u and u still picking some random dude. could never be me

user idk y’all I saw the bf and he’s actually kinda fine, like I lowkey get it 😭

user yeah he’s cuteee I’d be loyal too tbh

angelrafe her man is cute but rafe being obsessed with her is kinda eating… like the plot is juicing rn.

rafesgf watch her be an old family friend or something and we’re all losing our minds for nothing 💀

a/n: ngl i think it’s safer for this story, that i don’t write/update bc the only thing in my head is angst angst. i’m sorry it’s taken almost a month for this chapter but i’m like basically finished drafting the rest of the story so.. i originally wanted to end the story on valentine’s day but yk ill say it’ll be done by the end of the month!!

🏷️: @xoxo-ada @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @sleepiibunniiii @urbrunettebombshell @sideboobrry11 @acidfeens @marleymarleymarleymarley @hadids-world @ursogorgeous13 @louxmcl @cyberkitty1 @pogueprincesa @drewrry @the-oracle-at-delphinitely-not

[themultifanshipper]

omg I love Nico Rosberg please do!!

here's a little idea that's been running trough my head maybe it inspires you.

it's 2016, the worst of the worst of brocedes and nico goes out drinking and runs into Lewis's ex (reader) (maybe she's a journalist idk) one thing leads to another and they have nasty nasty sex in Nico's room, which just so happens to share a wall with Lewis's.

absolutely no pressure to write this tho

Sure Lewis had won the race, but you weren't expecting to see Nico drinking alone in a random bar. 

You had an idea that would definitely lift his spirits. 

Warnings: smut, masturbation, cum, filming (hear me out), rancid vibes, basically 2016 brocedes being petty, reader is a journalist and lewis' ex, I'm a lil' mean to lewlew but he deserves it

“Oh, Hello” he said relatively cheerfully when you popped up next to him at the bar. 

Nico had always liked you. You were a breath of fresh air whenever you'd show up at races. 

You worked part-time for Sky Sports and it was always a pleasure being interviewed by you. 

You'd been Lewis' girlfriend for years though, so you were firmly off limits to everyone in the paddock.  

Nico never did figure out why you and Lewis broke up. It's not like Lewis would talk to him about it, so he was left to speculate. 

“How have things… been?” he tried, earning a laugh from you. 

Of course you could tell he was fishing for information. 

“I'm not here to talk about Lewis, Nico”  

You leaned on the bar, pushing your chest against the polished wood, and Nico couldn't help glancing down quickly. 

“Actually, that's not strictly true” you corrected with a smile. “I wanted to see if there was anything I could do after your crushing defeat today” you emphasised the word, to see if he would react. 

He raised an eyebrow at you, smug smirk playing at his lips. 

“Are you trying to provoke me, my dear?” 

“Maybe…” you bit your lip, trying to conceal your glee. 

The truth was you and Lewis hadn't been on the best of terms after your rather public breakup. He'd become an egotistical monster, and you were only trying to weigh him down, or so he said. 

But even while you were together, you'd always found Nico intriguing. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him, and now that you were free to do whatever the fuck you wanted, well… now seemed like a good opportunity. 

“Keep it up, maybe you'll manage to get a reaction out of me” he purred, setting his glass down and turning his barstool towards you. 

You wrapped your fingers around his glass, and his eyes followed the movement of your thumb tracing up the side, drawing patterns in the condensation. 

“I'm not trying to do anything…” you glanced at him and noted how enraptured he was in the sight of your delicate fingers barely reaching all the way around the small-ish glass. “I'm just confused how a driver of your caliber just let Lewis pass you like that” 

His gaze snapped back to you “I did not let him pass, my car was…” 

He trailed off when he noticed your expression, throwing his head back in exasperation with a chuckle. 

“Okay, I see what you are doing. It's not going to work on me” 

“Really?” you pouted “You sure I can't get you even a little bit riled up?” 

He huffed out a laugh. “The things you could do to rile me up are illegal in public places” 

Your breath hitched at his tone, there was an underlying challenge in there somewhere. 

“In that case… I have a proposition for you” 

His pupils expanded as soon as you put your hand on his thigh to lean in seductively. 

“We could put our combined talent for pettiness to good use…” 

Your lips barely brushed his ear as you spoke, but he could already feel his pants tightening at your close proximity. 

“What are you suggesting?” his voice was tight with desire. 

“Your room is next to Lewis'… I think we could easily find a way to rile him up” 

Nico's eyes widened, that was the best idea he'd ever heard. 

You leaned back against the bar and took his glass, bringing it to your lips to take a sip. 

“Jesus!” you spluttered “That's straight tequila, Nico!” you gazed at him in awe. 

He laughed, sliding a hand around your waist to pull you in closer.  

“I think we're going to have a lot of fun together” he mumbled. 

You let him drag you closer, standing in between his legs as his greedy hands felt you up. 

“And Lewis is going to regret ever breaking up with you”  ...

◇

Lewis could hear most of what was going on in Nico's room. 

He had a girl over, how adorable. Whatever he needed to make himself feel better about losing, he supposed. Lewis was planning on winning every race if it meant destroying Nico. 

He actually took some kind of twisted pleasure in listening to his pathetic attempt to get back at him. As if it made them even. You got this trophy, but at least I’m getting my dick wet.  

Lewis laughed derisively at the thought. No woman was going to make up for the big shiny trophy he was going to get at the end of the season. 

His attitude quickly changed however, when he suddenly heard the woman's voice louder and clearer than before. 

“Nico!” 

It sounded much too familiar. 

It couldn't be… 

He dropped his phone onto the bed he was lying on and turned around to face the wall. 

“Fuck- aaah… oh my god, Nico!”  

His jaw dropped. He'd recognise those moans anywhere. 

“Nico, please!” 

He put his hand against the wall, as if he'd be able to feel you against the cool plaster. 

“Please! Please, oh my god, please!” 

He refused to acknowledge the twitch in his pants. His blood was boiling with thinly veiled jealousy. 

But the final offense came in the form of Nico's voice. 

“Hear that, asshole?!” he was yelling at him through the wall. “She's begging for me now!” 

You whined as Nico sped up his hips, hitting deep inside you while you imagined Lewis on the other side, fuming at what he was hearing. 

♤

Nico had you facing the wall, your hands clutching the headboard for dear life while he pounded into you from behind. 

You’d really been missing out, it turned out. 

One of his hands was on your hip, arching your back obscenely for him, and the other one was next to your head, flat on the wall to hold his weight. 

You cheek was pressed against the wall, ensuring your voice would be as audible as possible through it. 

“Say my name, darling” he groaned, you cunt was like a vice around him and he was barely holding on to his sanity by this point. 

“Nico!” you cried, you were rapidly approaching your high. 

“Louder, baby. I want him to hear you” 

He slithered a hand around your body and started tapping out a soft rhythm against your clit, the barely-there stimulation making your legs tremble. 

“Fuck- aaah! Oh my god, Nico!” 

“I said louder. You're not coming until I know he's heard you” 

“Nico, please!” 

He chuckled meanly at your writhing figure, the pressure just wasn't quite enough to get you over the edge you were gasping for. 

“Please! Please, oh my god! Please!” 

Nico groaned, you were begging so prettily and politely for him, he could hardly refuse. 

“Hear that, asshole?!” he yelled “She's begging for me now!” 

He increased the pressure on your clit, rubbing wet circles over it that made your eyes roll back into your skull and let out the most pitiful wail as you came all over his cock and fingers. 

You slumped against the headboard, no longer able to hold yourself up, and slid down until your face hit the pillows with your ass up in the air, and you groaned while you rode out the waves of your high, through which Nico was still fucking you. 

He quickly grabbed his phone.  

He knew just how to put the final nail in Lewis' proverbial coffin. 

He turned the camera on, just managing to catch the moment when he came inside you, cunt stretched beautifully around his cock, then pulled out to let his cum dribble out of you and down your thighs. 

They hadn't blocked each other’s numbers. That would be petty... 

♧

So he sent Lewis the short video and threw his phone to the side. 

He gently turned you over, thumbing at the obscene mixture clinging to your folds, and spreading it around. 

He was transfixed, and you let out a small giggle at his expression. 

He raised an eyebrow cockily, bringing his cum covered fingers up to your mouth. 

Much to his delight, you sucked them eagerly, moaning at the taste as your tongue traced every knuckle, every crevice until he was clean. 

His gaze was dark as he watched you work, and once his hand was clean he wrapped it around your neck and squeezed possessively. 

Your confused wide eyes made him chuckle, along with the way your thighs twitched. 

“I had a feeling you would be into that” 

He leaned over you and crashed his lips to yours in a searing kiss, the faint taste of your mixed juices driving him wild with need. 

“Give me a minute, I'm definitely not done with you” 

Lewis didn't care about his pride anymore, the sounds you were making on the other side of the wall were sending him insane. 

♡

He shoved his shorts down and wrapped a hand around himself. The relief was instant. 

He could almost picture you, bent over and begging. He'd witnessed it enough times. 

All that was missing was- 

The buzz of his phone caught his attention from where it was laying next to his knee. 

A text from Nico. 

“Enjoy the crumb” 

And attached was a video of Nico pounding into you once, twice, and then… 

Lewis gasped and the hand around his cock sped up at the sight of your beautiful tight hole dripping with his rival's cum. 

He didn't realise he was coming until it was too late and his pillow was soiled and covered in his spend. 

“Fuck's sake!” he cursed, throwing his phone across the room in anger. 

He ended up seeing a lot more of you after that.  

But you were now Nico's fucking girlfriend, and his ex-best frien would constantly send him dirty grins, reminding him of that damn video. 

And every single night, without fail, he'd pull the video up and get off to it. 

He'd hesitated a couple of times to send it to the papers. But no matter how bitter he was, he couldn't bring himself to do it. 

It was almost as if he took pleasure in knowing that only him and Nico had it. Like a shared dirty secret. 

Nico was going to regret everything anyway. He may have won you, but Lewis was going to win the whole damn championship. 

[bvrnesher]

PART 1 POSTED

Here!

hey, babes!

i'm writing some smut about luke, but i don’t know if i should post it or just scrap it. it’s a little out of my comfort zone, but i wanted to give a shot.

so, help me out!!! here is a 'sneak peek'

"𝗟𝗨𝗞𝗘, 𝗙𝗨𝗖𝗞, 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦, 𝗢𝗥 𝗞𝗜𝗟𝗟," Chris said, shooting him a shit-eating grin.

Yeah, this was a bit of a twisted version of the classic marry, kiss or kill, but no one really gave a damn about semantics. Not right now, anyway.

Luke wasn’t exactly feeling it—the whole campfire hangout (or, let’s be real, after-party) in the woods. But it was Sunday, and his so-called friends had dragged him here.

The actual party had died down a while ago, leaving only a handful of them—the ones not completely wasted—still hanging around the fire.

The flames flickered under the moonlight, the trees rustling just enough to send a cool breeze through the small clearing they’d basically claimed as Camp Half-Blood’s official party zone.

"Between…?" Luke asked, taking a slow sip of his beer, already bracing for whatever bullshit Chris was about to throw at him.

"Kayle, Jenna, and…" Chris let the last name hang in the air, scanning the girls around the fire, looking for the perfect final option.

His eyes landed on you.

Oh, he was going to be an asshole about this. His smirk said it all.

And then he said your name.

Luke didn’t even flinch. Not on the outside, at least. Inside? Different story. His heart pulled one of those stupid, traitorous stunts the second he heard it.

Because Chris knew. Knew that Luke had called you the hottest girl in camp.

But what Chris didn’t know was that Luke hadn’t even scratched the surface of what he actually thought about you.

Across the fire, you smirked, leaning in to whisper something to your friend from Cabin 4, completely unaware of the storm you’d just walked into.

Luke exhaled slowly, masking it with a lazy smirk of his own as he leaned back against the tree, arms crossing over his chest like this was the easiest question in the world.

"Kill Kayle," he said first, earning an over-the-top gasp from her—not that she actually gave a shit, of course.

"Kiss Jenna," he continued, throwing the redhead a teasing wink.

Then, without hesitation, "And I'd fuck her," he finished, tilting his chin toward you with an infuriatingly smooth grin.

If only you knew how hard it was to keep his voice steady when he said it.

Main idea:

[loverboysturn]

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ popular!matt and smart!reader have their first tutoring session !!

got carried away but i love these two sm :( so excited to share more of them!!! asks & requests are always open.

these two are from the same universe as popular!chris & cinderella!reader. you can find all writings here.

06.58am.

you had pulled into the parking lot of the lake, your tyres crunching against the gravel beneath you. the morning air was frozen cold, and the sun was just starting to rise, causing a golden-orange glow across the sky.

you were shocked to see matt’s car already parked, surprised he’d actually turned up before 7am. even more surprising, he’d taken your usual parking spot, the one you always claimed when you arrived. typical.

you’d swapped numbers and texted him last night, arranging with him to meet at the local riverside coffee shop. it was always quiet at this hour, and you liked the view of the water, always making sure to take a photo of the sunrise to post on your instagram story.

as you look over to the group of benches placed outside the coffee shop, your gaze lands on matt, he was wearing his letterman jacket, the one with your college’s logo stitched into the back and his surname in bold above it. he was sitting on the bench to the side, coincidentally, the one you always sat on.

you shut off the engine, and gather up all your things, hoping to get this first session with him over and done with.

when you reach him, he looks up from his phone, locking it and placing it face down before giving you one of his infamous smirks. “ah, thought for a moment you were gonna be late pretty girl,” he teases, “you’re cuttin’ it fine.”

you roll your eyes, ignoring the nickname, knowing it was probably something he said to every girl, although for some reason, it made your stomach flip, but you instantly and quite easily pushed that feeling aside.

“well, i’m surprised you’re even here.” you say, sitting yourself down on the opposite side of the bench, placing a maths textbook down between you both.

“i told you, i’m not gonna let you down.” he says, shifting slightly to make room for your stuff on the table, “so, let’s get to work. shall we?”

“what do you want to learn first?” you ask, placing your elbows on the table, leaning your chin in your hand. “what does the matt sturniolo want to learn everything about?”

he leans forward, eyes scanning the papers you had brought with you. “i dunno, maybe somethin’ easy.” he laughs, “or equations, i’m really shit at equations.”

you can’t help but let out a small giggle, shaking your head as you open the textbook, finding the section you needed on equations.

you begin explaining the first set of problems on the page, making sure to break them down, keeping it as simple and precise as possible and as much as you had expected him to not take this seriously, matt was surprisingly observant, writing down little notes here and there as you went over each step.

“any questions?” you ask him after a few minutes.

he hesitates, then goes on to ask you, “did you really think i wasn’t going to show up today?”

you raise an eyebrow, part of you did truly expect that he was going to bail, but part of you deep down, is glad he didn’t. “honestly? i did, a little.” you admit, “but i’m glad you’re here. you’re a lot smarter than you think.”

he smiles at your answer, before it slowly turns into a smirk. “any questions for me?” he asks you, mimicking your previous question to him.

“is it true that you hooked up with one of the cheerleaders who’s boyfriend is the captain of football team we’re playing on friday?” you mimic his smirk, throwing him completely off guard, playing him at his own game.

“correct.” he chuckles, admitting it. “alright, back to equations.”

for the next forty five minutes, you worked through all kinds of maths problems, and matt started to really catch on. he began to understand things easily, solving the harder math problems with more confidence as the minutes ticked by.

he stops for a moment, looking over at you, when suddenly he pushes his jacket off his shoulders and throws it over yours. “here,” he says quietly, “you’re shivering”

you glance up at him, unsure whether to be surprised or annoyed at him chucking his jacket on you. “it’s not that cold.”

“do you know how many girls would love to be in your position?” he jokes, “wearing the matt sturniolo’s jacket.”

you huff, admitting defeat as you slip the jacket on properly, the fabric swallowing you completely but the sudden warmth and scent of his cologne takes over you. “and i’m sure there’s probably been quite a few who have worn it, probably with nothing else on underneath.”

“you really think i’d let just anyone wear this? c’mon pretty girl, told you there’d be something in this for you.”

“there is something in it for me, you promised you’d make the football team stop being mean to my best friend.” you reply, narrowing your eyes, “you have to keep your side of the deal.”

“i will,” he says, holding his pinky out. “promise.”

a small smile tugs at your lips. a pinky promise seeming ridiculous, but something about it secretly makes your heart skip a beat. maybe it’s how seriously he’s taking all this. your loop your finger around his and give it a half hearted tug before pushing his hand away lightly.

“i’m holding you to that pinky promise.” you reply, before adding. “i take pinky promises seriously.”

you stand up, starting to pack your things up when matt stands too, offering a helping hand when his hand brushes against yours and for a split second, it feels… electric. you pull back quickly, mentally scolding yourself, you mustn’t let yourself get distracted by his charm.

you have always told yourself that falling in love with anyone would only bring a distraction to your studies, and you’re far too focused on your goals to let anything nor anyone throw you off track. this is just tutoring, nothing more, and you’re not about to let a boy like matt complicate things by calling you nicknames, and giving you that same smooth talk you know he uses on every girl.

you glance down at his jacket still draped over your shoulders, and you quickly shrug it off. holding it out to him, “here,” you half smile, “thanks, i’ll be sure to remember mine next time.”

he takes the jacket back without a word, before he starts walking backwards to his car, still facing you with that infamous smirk smacked on his face again, “same time, next week?”

“yep, same time next week.”

“here again? before classes start?”

“yes matt, here again. 7am.” you say, tone steady.

“i’ll be there pretty girl, 6.59.” he laughs, chucking his keys into the air before catching them.

you watch him finally turn away and get into his car, driving off. as his car disappears, you get into yours and rest your head on the steering wheel, a heavy sigh escaping your lips.

and little do you know, this tutoring thing is only the start of something you never saw coming.

[allertonhoe]

A2 + A5 with rafe please, a bit of angst then fluff at the end !!! also congratulations on 500 !!

thank you!!! hope you enjoy ☺️☺️ really had fun writing this one!!!

prompts: "Please don’t cry. I can’t stand to see you cry" + "Well. Yell, scream, say something. Anything"

content warnings: 18+ MDNI, original afab!reader, men being men/being gross about women,

500 follower celebration!

It was humiliating to say the least. You knew that being Rafe Cameron's girlfriend wasn't always the easiest task. There were expectations of you, one of them being that you had to accompany him to fancy Kook soirées. But tonight, you'd gotten pushed too far.

"Come on," he complained, banging against the locked guest room door. "Please just talk to me. I know I fucked up."

It hadn't been anything out of the ordinary, another obligatory appearance among Figure 8's upper echelon since he was now running Cameron Development. Hanging off Rafe's arm with a cordial smile as he faked his way through small talk with important clients and investors.

At one point, the two of you split off from each other. Being wrangled by one of the other trophy girlfriends to gossip over drinks and 'leave the men to their business,' whatever that meant—something you'd learn very soon. Eventually excusing yourself to the bathroom, you became distracted as you strolled past the billiards room and noticed it was buzzing in conversation.

"Is she that good, Cameron?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you only keep a girl like that around for one reason."

Your jaw dropped at the sexist declaration, especially when you knew there was a good chance this person had probably acted the complete opposite less towards you than an hour ago when Rafe was by your side. It's not that you were ignorant to that type of behavior in these settings, you'd just never heard it so explicitly. 

This was part of why you loved Rafe, though. He was headstrong and fiercely protective of the things that were important to him, which included you. He had a reputation for having a dangerously short fuse, a trait you were appreciative of in this moment. But that wasn't the response you heard at all.

"Seriously, dude? You should brag about your girl more. The stories I've heard-"

"Shut up, Topper."

"No, no. I mean it as, like, a good thing. Those two have the freakiest sex. The stories I've heard. Tell them about that thing she can do when she puts her legs over her-"

"Damn, Rafe. And you aren't sharing any of the dirty details with the rest of us? That's cold, man..."

"My girl's just amazing; what can I say?"

"Enjoy that while it lasts. I wish my wife was still eager and willing like that. Didn't talk back yet, just did whatever I told her because she wanted to keep me around. Made sure I was taken care of like your girl still does, if you know what I mean."

The group of businessmen laughed boisterously as they proceeded with their banter, while your supposed knight-in-shining-armour stood along with them. Actually clinking his glass with the man's who made that comment, not even attempting to clear your name.

Your mind raced as you helplessly watched the scene unfold in front of you. Usually the two of you were on the same page, but right now you could barely recognized your boyfriend. Why didn't he confront them at all? Was he embarrassed over you? 

Your clutch fell from your hand, making your presence known as it hit the ground. Not daring to shift your regard back to the room full of local moguls, their conversation stilling there. Rushing to pick it up and return to the group of naive women you were seemingly better off with, but hearing a familiar set of footsteps follow behind you.

At first, Rafe tried explaining himself a few times. So you stubbornly shut him out and did what you apparently did best—blindly follow his lead like a doting puppy. Getting knowing looks from the same snobby men he’d just been chatting with as he quickly decided it was time to make his exit, your rage not going unnoticed.

Your silence prevailed throughout the car ride home despite his continued attempts to apologize, not sparing him a glance as you stormed into the house and up to one of the guest bedrooms. Locking the door behind you as the disparaging remarks swirled through your brain.

"Baby, let me in," he reiterates desperately.

He kept pounding on the door and you kept ignoring him, not in any mood to spend the rest of the evening rehashing your unsettled conflict. Becoming startled when it suddenly stopped after a few minutes, the quiet only worrying you knowing your boyfriend's unpredictable temper.

And then, in his irrational fashion, the thick wood broke off its hinges like it was no big deal. Barreling into the formerly tranquil room, brushing a hand through his hair dramatically as he caught his breath. Feeling a little resentful that he decided to channel his frustration into that outrageous display instead of actually backing you up earlier. 

"Are you fucking serious?" You grill him, not hiding how unimpressed you were.

"What?" He counters, glancing at the wreckage and waving it off. "Don't worry about that."

You just rolled your eyes, diverting your attention from him as resentment crept back up on you. A tear rolling down your cheek as you remembered why you were in here, avoiding him, in the first place. Rafe kneeling down to bring himself to your level, his thumb wiping it off your skin. 

"Please don't cry. I can't stand to see you cry." He whispered hoarsely. "I'm sorry. You know how the guys can be..."

"It's not that, Rafe. You didn't come to my defense at all when they were all objectifying me. I thought I meant more to you than that..." You detail with disappointment. "I'm just... I'm tired. It's been a long night. I'm gonna sleep in here, or one of the rooms that has a door attached."

"No, baby. Let me make it up to you," he contends further.

Not having any more energy to keep scolding him, you slipped under the covers and got as comfortable as you were able to without changing out of your cocktail dress or taking off your makeup. Feeling a dip at the bottom of the mattress, Rafe reaching out and caressing the shape of your silhouette.

"Yell, scream, say something..." he begs weakly, his voice breaking and barely a whisper as he finished his plea. "Anything..."

He crawled across the bed, lying behind you and placing his arms over your torso. Pulling you as close as he was able to with the comforter still separating your bodies. Shutting your eyes momentarily as you basked in the calm you'd been craving all night.

"I'm so sorry, baby... I should've told them to knock it off, but it's complicated with these guys. They're some of my dad's oldest clients. I can't just lose my shit on them, as much as I might want to." He justifies to you. "Please... I'll let you do whatever you want..."

As he waited for your answer, he moved your hair off the back of your neck and started pecking across the flesh. Pressing delicate, wanton kisses before stopping at your shoulder and resting his chin there, leaving one last chaste peck on your cheek. Trying your absolute best not to give in to his persuasive tactics. 

"Whatever I want?" you echo, catching his grin reappear as your discomfort faded.

"Anything," he coos, prompting you to turn over to face him properly.

"You're definitely gonna regret that," you threaten playfully. 

"Yeah?" he mutters, squeezing your waist possessively.

"Mhmm..." You hum, capturing his lips with yours. Rafe tangling his tongue with your own as he took over control and spent the rest of the evening helping you forget about the disastrous gala.

[getaapologist]

The Tension and the Terror............Part XV

Pairing: Emperor Geta x OFC (extremely loosely, character is named but otherwise not described besides hair length)

Summary: The chaos surrounding the death of Macrinus keeps Letha and Geta apart much longer than either of them expected. Geta has an urgent question for Letha.

Warnings: make-up sex, and a shitty understanding of ancient Roman procedures around rule, 18+ only.

Word Count: 3.6k

Part 15 of 15!

[ Part XIV ]

Series Masterlist

A/N: I would like to preface this by saying thank you for reading this self-indulgent slop. I hope you got some small amount of enjoyment out of it. Your comments along the way kept me engaged enough to actually finish this. It's the first thing I've ever started writing that I actually feel like I finished. There's so much I could've added to this post-reunion that this would've never been done. I could always embellish at a later date if anyone wanted it. I'm also a bit sad to finish this because I don't have anything to look forward to now. Thank you for your time and attention. It means a lot.

Also, mea lux is 'my light' I believe.

Almost two weeks passed before Letha laid eyes on Geta again.

It was prevented by a combination of things. There had been so much to deal with after the incident in the gardens. Geta had been embroiled in meetings, debating things Letha wasn’t privy to. There was a ceremony for Ancus, to honor him for his efforts to protect his Emperors. And at every party, everyone was so desperate to show face to their Emperors, to remind them of their loyalty in wake of the exposure of Macrinus’s plot. 

Though she wasn’t invited to any official meetings or ceremonies, there were situations where she could’ve sought Geta out at these fetes and events. But she didn’t. She was scared to have that conversation that needed to happen. 

She knew she was still treated as a guest in the palace. More like a fixture, really, available to distract Caracalla whenever the burden of rule grew too tiresome with more poetry, read under the shade of a tree in the gardens, Ancus always nearby. But aside from that, she felt quite restless. 

It’s not as if she expected things to go back to how they were, but she didn’t think it would be this hard to put her thoughts together. Leaving the gardens that evening, neck still sore, she was imagining how she’d look over at Geta the next morning and fervently apologize, for all of it. She’d tell him she would understand if he sent her away, and he would assure her that he wouldn’t dream of it.

But the next morning she couldn’t leave her bed, paralyzed by this new fear. She’d gotten a chance to see what her relationship with Geta could be, she didn’t know what she would do if it was not that. And the possibilities he’d promised her most certainly couldn’t and wouldn’t happen anymore. She stewed in the hesitance, the uncertainty, until she became convinced that it absolutely would be different. No matter what different meant, she was sure it wouldn’t be good.

And so it continued, Letha skipping mealtimes that used to be routine, bumping into servants gossiping on her way into the kitchens to eat. Occasionally she heard her name on their tongues, her appearance causing them to freeze as if Letha were Medusa herself. Not wanting to make a scene, she’d just duck right back out, resolving to return later.

Caracalla assured her his brother was just being kept very, very busy in the wake of the subterfuge and death of Macrinus, but she couldn’t help but feel like it was a little intentional. 

What did you expect, honestly?

She didn’t know why she was still allowed to wander the palace, as if she were back to being a guest. There were no guards posted outside her room, and for the last week she spent her evenings in the gardens, observing the moon, asking no one in particular what happens next.

She wasn’t naive, she knew Tegula didn’t trust her. And nothing spread faster than a salacious rumor. They weren’t so foolish as to speak poorly of their Emperor, so they resorted to tarnishing her reputation instead. She was a witch, had steered Macrinus to his end, was desperate to attach herself to the divinity the Emperors were entitled to.

It was ridiculous. If she had such powers, she sure wouldn’t have suffered all this. 

It was all just more fuel for her suppositions, perpetuating her unhappy cycle until she felt like it would be better if she just snuck out one night. She could become a ghost story. But against all odds, she still carried hope that the next day would be different. 

As for Geta, well, Geta was trying to prevent an economic collapse. Some part of him thought Letha might think poorly of him if he let the empire fall around them because he would rather be locked up in his rooms, curled up in her. Because that was what he wanted. But he had a duty, a responsibility to steer this monstrous empire in a direction he could have heirs in. Perhaps the danger had put things into perspective.

Listening to the senators describe just how involved Macrinus had been in arming their voracious armies became more and more painful as they dove into the minutiae of complex accounts and processes he never bothered to pay attention to before. It was overwhelming. But he knew their efforts were working. Still, there were moments where he’d trade it all for those eyes on him again. 

What little free time he had was spent trying to avoid Letha, because he needed hours, days, uninterrupted, for him to spill his heart to her. A few minutes here and there wouldn’t be enough to relay any of the complex emotions he felt. He couldn’t avoid her forever, though, because there was a certain conversation that had to happen. He needed to know where he stood with her before he picked a particular path to tread down.

So that was why he stalked the gardens that evening, waiting for her to appear for her nightly stargazing. And as he watched her spread out the emerald-dyed linen on the grass, he felt calm. Almost peaceful. He let himself forget the weight of all that had happened, the guilt, too. Everything they’d all been through. 

Well, not everything.

“You should have run far away from here,” Geta spoke, disturbing her peace. 

Letha looked over her shoulder, her breath held in her lungs as she appraised him. It almost felt like the first time. The first time she saw him and admitted against her better judgment that he was beautiful.

The moonlight glinted off the laurels and the golden chestplate he still wore, though the ceremony had long been over. His hair was shiny, neat, framing his fair face. His deep, dark eyes, still lined in crimson, were locked on her.

He looked close to divine standing there in the golden armor, easily one of the most opulent things she’d ever seen. He somehow looked taller, broader, in the armor. Untouchable, too. 

It was so late in the evening, he should’ve changed. He should be in bed. Anywhere but here.

No more hiding. 

“I was locked in a cell, I wasn’t running anywhere.”

He surprised her by sitting beside her on the blanket, the ceremonial armor quite uncomfortable to lay down in. He kept his arms slung around his knees, the bindings of the tall sandals flexing over his shins as he joined her in staring up at the large moon.

“What about after?” After Macrinus. “You’ve had no chaperone for well over a week now.”

Letha felt her stomach twist. “I’ve thought about it.”

“But?” Geta supplied, turning his head away from the splendor of the night sky to peer down at her where she laid out beside him. A challenger to the celestial might hanging above.

“You know there would be no point.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I do?”

She rolled her eyes, a treasonous activity if done by any other, but it filled Geta with warmth, bringing the beginnings of a smile to his lips. It all felt so familiar.

“There’s something that is keeping me here. Besides the fact I wouldn’t last a day out there with nowhere to go.”

“I dared to hope,” he admitted, taking her own admission and shoving it into the cracks that were slowly mending, a makeshift mortar.

She looked over at him, a line forming between her brows as she studied him, thinking very hard about what to say next. He reached down with a finger, gently pressing at the center of her brows, pushing away the line.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, the pressure of his closeness becoming overwhelming. 

“No,” he shook his head, moving his finger lower to press to her lips, silencing any further unnecessary apologies. “It is forgiven.”

Letha felt relief, could feel a tear forming at the corner of her eye. But she didn’t want to cry, not now. She recalled her apology muttered into his hair that day. He’d told her ‘no’ then too. 

“Do you still care for me?” he asked, his voice low.

“Of course I do,” she whispered, feeling the tear slide down the side of her face. 

He noticed it, moving his fingertip to wipe away the trail before resting his hand on the ground beside her head. He licked his lips, staring at her, all his weight bearing down, as if daring himself to collapse onto her. 

As much as he might have enjoyed frolicking beneath the stars, removing this armor was not a graceful job, even for two. 

“I want to show you something.” He pushed off the ground and sat up, the haze of him dispersed. She made herself sit up, kept her eyes on him as he stood up. He could feel a swarm of bees in his stomach moving angrily as he held a hand out for her to help her to her feet.

There was a split second of indecision and he nearly faltered, but her tight grip on his hand was a balm, immediately settling his nerves. As she leaned down to gather up the blanket, he tugged her hand, urging her to leave it. 

Geta  lifted the small chest off his desk and carried it over to where Letha sat on the side of the chaise in his room. It sank into the plush seat and she looked up at him, surprised. 

“It’s quite heavy.”

“I can manage just fine,” he smiled, his teasing tone returning.

It was so easy to get caught up in his magnetism. She wondered if he knew he possessed such a thing.

“Go on,” he urged. “Open it.”

She obeyed, pushing up the lid, exposing a rich ruby interior, the box created to house this one ornate bauble. Laurels, golden and sparkling. There were small, dazzling red gems hidden among the leaves here and there.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, reaching in to run a finger along one of the gilded leaves. “Seems a bit small for you,” she admitted.

“It is,” he confirmed. 

“Well I think Caracalla will love it,” she smiled, lowering the lid. “It’s a thoughtful gift.”

Geta reached down, pulling it back open. There was a look in her eyes that gave him pause, all the smiles and teasing forgotten. As if she knew already what he was about to say. To ask.

“It’s not for my brother.”

His words sent an icy chill down the center of her back, forcing her to sit up a bit straighter. He was already moving away, pacing.

“I have been busy, Letha,” he admitted. “I’ve spent more time with the senators than I can possibly stand. And in exchange for those long hours, I got this.”

“Geta, I—”

“Don’t feel like you need to say yes right now. Just promise me you will think on it. I know these last couple of weeks have been difficult, we’ve had a hell of a time trying to navigate—”

Letha stood and walked over to him as he rambled. She reached up and curled her fingers around the collar of the chestplate, pulling him down by it, pressing her lips to his. 

Geta recognized the action immediately, bringing one of his hands up to cover hers where she held the armor, moaning against her lips. He pulled her in by the small of her back with his free hand. Her necklace clattered against the metal plate until it was muffled by the press of her against him. 

He could not get near enough air into his lungs. He felt dizzy, incoherent, his blood at once diluted but also thickened, leaving his limbs feeling heavy with a honeyed sludge passing through his veins. The pressure of her hauling him down to her eager mouth by the bronze plate persisted in his brain, in his gut, and he suspected he would relive it for the rest of time. 

“Letha,” he breathed, his palm pressing to her heated cheek. “You can take time,” he offered, though he would be lying if he said he was satisfied with this and nothing more.

“I’ve taken it,” she replied quickly, releasing the armor. 

Before the dissatisfaction crept in, he felt her fingers at his side, brushing the underside of his arm that he immediately lifted. She worked at the buckle, pulling the leather free before moving down to the woven golden string keeping both halves together. 

Once his brain caught up to hers, he pulled at the cords holding the pauldrons over his shoulders, the both of them picking up speed as an unspoken sense of urgency grew in the silence. It all hit the floor with a loud clattering, the pteruges joining it not long after. 

Free from the weight of the heavy armor, Geta reached for Letha’s neck, pulling her into him, groaning against her lips as he attempted to make up for lost time.

As he held her, he realized she was working herself out of her dress. It was bunched up on her shoulders by the time he looked down. The next chance she got, the two of them needing air, she threw it off over her head. 

“I would have gotten to that,” he breathed, allowing himself to look her over. 

“Like I said, I’ve taken it.” she spoke with intention. He felt it low in his belly.

She got to spend only a moment more on her feet before he collected her in his arms and carried her to the bed. She let out a laugh as she sank into the plush arrangement of silks and pillows. He stared down at her, feeling that blooming of warmth in his chest that only she gave him.

 “What are you waiting for?”

As the words left her lips, Geta threw off the white tunic and joined her, crawling up her body to seal his lips to hers, finally allowing the weight of him to press her down into the bed. He had missed this. Her skin, already hot beneath his hands, her movements only drawing him in further, seeking his touch, his lips.

It had been a long couple of weeks.

He felt her bring a leg up around his hip and he reached for it, fingers digging into her thigh as he rutted against her. The ragged moan that left his throat said more about his desperation than anything else.

The tension in his arm trying to hold him up off of her was too much to ignore. He turned onto his side, clinging to her thigh, slowly bringing her with him until he was on his back. As she settled in this new position, she looked down where they met, a bashful smile on her face.

He couldn’t deny the wonder that overtook him at the sight of her above him, the way her mussed hair hung around her face, a few strands now loose. She was radiant, even in the night. Her nervous smile took hold in his chest, and he knew then that he would make it his goal to continue to find ways to draw that same smile from her. 

“I missed you,” she admitted, eyes cast down to the expanse of his torso beneath her hands. “I thought we might never…”

“Letha, you possess me.” Her eyes widened, her body frozen in his hands. “I think that was why it hurt so much to be separated from you.” He shifted his hips, forcing heat into her cheeks. “And I owe you an apology.”

“It is forgiven,” she insisted.

He shot her a look. “I could have lost you. It was cruel and impulsive.”

“We are fortunate your brother had the good sense to intervene, then.”

“Please, do not speak of my brother right now,” he pleaded, squeezing her thighs. 

She laughed at him, covering his hands with hers. “Let me distract you,” she offered, bringing his hands up higher, his fingers skimming her belly before she pressed his palms into her breasts.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, his hands squeezing her soft skin. 

She ground herself down on him, using him, the sight filling him with desire for her. How he ever got pleasure from anyone else, he could never know. This was all he ever needed. He could only thank the gods, the fates, whoever brought her to him. 

She surprised him as she swung her leg over him, leaving him there in the bed, a pathetic whine leaving his throat as the air hit his slick-wet cock.

Letha felt a bit unsteady on her feet as she walked through his room. She was ready to show him that she would take on the mantle, the responsibility of keeping him sated and happy. 

Possessed him? She would never get over it. 

She found the chest and lifted the lid, reaching down for the delicate crown. Even in the dim light it sparkled. Her prize in hand, she set it on her head and nearly sprinted back to Geta.

He still laid in the middle of his bed, a vision of long limbs and pale flesh. At the sound of her feet padding on the floor he craned his neck, his large brown eyes passing over her, lingering on her head, where the crown sat precariously.

His full lips parted in a grin. “Eager to fulfill your duty, Empress?” he questioned, his voice low with desire. He held his hands out for her, helping her return to her place astride his hips. 

“Do you like it?” she asked a bit bashfully, her hands leaving his to steady the crown in her hair.

He let out a deep breath. “Mea lux,” he smiled, reaching up to pull her down to his chest, “you spoil me.” He stole a kiss from her lips before he reached up to adjust the crown so it would sit more securely on her head. She leaned into every touch, relishing the sensation of his large hands on her skin, skimming, gripping, squeezing.

She was so overwhelmed by him that she didn’t notice him preparing to shove into her, her only warning a quick swipe of him through her slick. They let out matching sighs as he filled her, like this was all they needed. Letha sat up, a hand pressed against his abdomen for support as she reacclimated to him. 

“W-What exactly are the duties of an Empress, Geta?” she asked. His hips snapping up forcing a wanton moan to leave her lips. 

His flush extended from his face and ears down to his chest. “Besides the obvious?”

She nodded, shifting her hips, moving on instinct, eager for relief. 

He grunted, letting his head fall back. “Well,” he began, bucking his own hips up slightly to reward her. “You will sit with me in all the boring meetings. We will suffer together.” 

“Mhmm,” she moaned, nodding. “I can do that.”

“You will advise me, keep me in line,” he grunted. “Tell me when I’m being a fool.”

“I will relish every chance I get,” she grinned, chasing her pleasure.

“Don’t look so excited,” he chuckled, biting his lip. 

She felt her thighs burning, but she didn’t dare stop, the coil pulling ever tighter. “What else?”

“You will guard my heart, Letha,” he breathed, his eyes meeting hers.

Her hips stilled. 

Geta flipped them, bringing his face down to hers. She ran her hands up his sides, over his shoulders, tangling in his hair as he kissed her. She relaxed beneath him, her legs wrapping around his hips as he drove into her at a steady pace. 

“Can you do that?” he asked, meeting her eyes. 

“Haven’t I been already?” 

He blinked down at her, absorbing her words. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she echoed, pulling his face down to hers.

In the kiss, he quickened his pace. She felt like she was falling apart in his hands, unable to form more words. He reached down between them, his fingers finding home in the apex of her thighs, his nose brushing against hers as he urged her to her release.

She clung to him desperately, choked gasps leaving her throat as he pressed his lips against it. She clenched around him, the coil finally snapping and giving way for her hard-earned release. He pushed her through it, her hands squeezing his hips in an effort to slow him down, too sensitive. 

He sat up, pulling her to him by her hips, grunting as he pounded into her.

“Is giving you an heir part of my duties as well?”

He laughed. “Not a requirement, but–” He cut himself off, burying himself in her as he fell on top of her, pulsing into her. “–a perk.”

He settled on top of her, his lips pressing to hers before he buried his face in the side of her neck. She held him close, running fingers up and down his back, enjoying the warmth of him despite all the sweat. 

“I would stay like this forever,” she sighed, trying to fight off the exhaustion she felt. The last thing she wanted to do was sleep now that she had him back.

“I have no pressing business for two days, mea lux. You’re not leaving this room,” he spoke into her skin. “And when we do, we will be wed.”

She felt nervous, but optimistic. “Should we not have waited until after for this then?”

He lifted his head, his warm eyes settling on hers. Full of love and mirth. “Oh, no, dear Letha. I believe you said you have already taken your time to think,” he winked, “and I would not deprive my Empress of anything.”

[ fin ]

Thank you for reading!

[butchsophiewalten]

Small Excerpt from Twitter Space 09/28/24

Kyle asks Martin a question: "In your Opinion, what would each character [in The Walten Files] listen to? What kind of music?"

Martin answers, "I've al- It's so crazy, because people always ask me this, and to me, the answer always changes, because my understanding of the characters changed a bit. Like, their core always remains the same, but the way I understand how they work is different, For example; I feel like, um- I think Jack would listen to a lot of old- old-timey, 1930s or 1940s music. And I feel like that's because he's probably someone that- it's harder-- He's someone that I feel doesn't adapt well to the world- to the style of the world changing. And I'm not talking about (cultural stuff ?), I'm talking more about like, how people dress, what kind of music they listen to, I feel like Jack kind of remains stuck in the time he grew up in.

And I feel like that almost lack of desire to change, lack of desire to try to adapt to this new world that's coming- because- I feel like part of why I chose the 1970s is because I feel like that was a really- almost a transitionary decade for the world and pop culture, and stuff like that. So, to me I feel like Jack would be someone that wouldn't, uh, try to adapt to like, the rest of the world. He would just remain in the style of what he was accustomed to. Because to me, that's how Jack is as a person. I don't feel like he's trying to change the way he thinks or the way he sees life as a whole.

Felix I feel is more simple; I feel like Felix listens to- I remember this was, um, Felix's old voice actor Coker's idea, but I feel like that actually fits him really well, he's uh, listens to a lot of like, 70's rock and stuff like that. A bit of Badfinger--"

Kyle interjects. "I don't know if- if I'm using the term right. Would you say something like- would he listen to like, Yacht Rock, do you think?"

Martin agrees. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so, yeah. So, I feel like- that's sorta- I feel like if Jack remains true to what he grew up with, I feel like Felix is always changing. Always evolving, like, he changes along with the world. He usually listens to, I feel like like- further along in the story, like after 1974, he listens to more late 70's, early 80's music.

Sophie, I feel, is different. I feel like Sophie is someone that just listens to whatever is on the radio. I don't think- and she maybe fixates on one song or another that she listened on the radio, but she doesn't have, like, any- any sort of, like, cassettes or vinyls of her own, I think they're all Jenny's. Because- to me, Sophie is someone that, in a way, doesn't really know what she wants yet. She doesn't know what kind of person she is. And, of course, we're gonna go further into that in season two, but to me I feel like she- that is also reflected in what kind of music she listens to. She just listens to anything. Because she doesn't really have a specific style, to what kind of music she likes.

Rosemary... I feel it would be a lot of 60s music. A lot of, uh, Woodstock music, kinda, I've always imagined. I don't know why, it always- it always struck me that way.

And, uh, Charles, I feel... Charles listened to a lot of like, songs that are still popular to this day, from that era, to me. I remember- [Kyle] sent me... 'Charles' Work Cassette' (a playlist Kyle made), and I was like, that is definitely what he would listen to."

Kyle: "Hold on, I wanna make sure that it has the right-- damn! Nevermind, I was gonna say, like, 'Oh, would he like Hotel California,' and then I checked, like-"

Martin: "Yes! Yes, yes!"

Kyle: "That's the thing! It came out after he died!"

Martin: "Yeah, it came out after he died, but listen, bear with me here, I've always compared Charles, like, as a character; his style, the way he jokes around, to my father. And to me, I feel like- all the songs that I listen to when I write Charles, when I draw him, whatever. They're all songs that I listened to when I was a kid, and I had to listen to my father's radio. Which is a lot of like, Hotel California, Free Bird, Suzie Q, and stuff like that, y'know? That kinda- that style of music...

And, to me I feel like the most interesting one is Bon. I feel like Bon- Bon is the only one in which the music he listens to actually plays a part in the story. And it's- I feel like Bon, he kind of, like, his era of music is Classical music, because to me, he's a character that has been stripped away from all identity. And he- he's sorta, like, a person-- The way I feel like Bon sees himself is as the default person. Like, he can't picture himself as anything more than a blank slate. And to me, I feel like classical music fits there, because to me it's almost like he regressed back to, like. the earliest-- I wouldn't say the earliest. But like, one of the earliest forms of music. And to me, it's also because that kind of music represents his almost, like, unspeakable desire for-- to almost have, like-- I don't- I don't wanna give anything away. But, if I were to put it-- to make sense of his own identity, of his own life. It's like, I feel like I've always sensed that he almost releases that struggle, through that kinda music.

And that's why when he kills Susan, and when he puts her in Banny, there's always classical music playing. Because, to me, I feel like that's how Bon is able to express himself without putting it into words. Because I feel like not even he could put it into words. He's not gonna, like, stop in the middle of a scene and monologue his entire backstory and his life. But he expresses it in very artistic ways, in my opinion."

[haytan]

WILDFLOWER | G.A

inspired by billie eilish's wildflower. I think you can already predict that it's very angst. I cried writing this and I love it even more because of it.

𓍼 WORD COUNT: 3390

𓍼 SUMMARY: after listening to Two People on Good Riddance tour something invades you, like a fever.

𓍼 WARNINGS: angst, good ending...

good riddance had been out for a few months now, yet you still remembered the nights when gracie came home late from the studio. it might have seemed like a bad thing, but she always found a way to make it up to you—small surprises, late-night apologies that always ended with her between your legs—so, in the end, it was never really that bad.

one of the things you admired most about her was her honesty, especially when it came to her feelings. while working on the album, she never let you forget how much she loved you, how important your relationship was, and how those lyrics were nothing more than echoes of old wounds.

more than anyone, you understood what this album meant to her. it wasn’t just a way to express everything she had been through, but the first project that was truly hers, a piece of her heart laid bare. and you had been there for every part of it.

before love ever crossed your mind, you and gracie were just friends. and you had the luck—or maybe the curse—of knowing her ex-boyfriend, of watching them grow together and, eventually, fall apart.

it should have been easy to let time wash it all away, to accept that the past was nothing more than that. you had promised yourself it wouldn’t matter anymore. you had promised gracie, too.

but then two people started playing.

and when gracie sang that one specific line—

"and you know, you know every inch of my body"

that was when the tears started falling, before you could even think about stopping them. that was the night you started seeing him in the back of your mind again when you started feeling like you were burning alive.

but you knew she didn't mean to hurt you.

so you kept it to yourself.

…

the next morning, usually filled with kisses and silly conversations, is ruined by a tension that settles between you like something unspoken—thick and heavy. the air inside the apartment feels too still, as if it’s holding its breath, waiting for one of you to break the silence.

gracie leans against the sink, absentmindedly stirring her tea, though you’re not even sure if she actually intends to drink it. her fingers tap a slow rhythm against the ceramic mug, eyes fixed on some distant point.

you sit on a stool by the counter, arms crossed, so close yet so far away. the hum of the fridge, the faint ticking of the clock on the wall—everything sounds too loud in the midst of the silence between you.

"are you really not going to talk to me?" gracie finally says, her voice quieter than usual but heavy with frustration.

you exhale through your nose, hearing your own heartbeat echo inside your head. "i don’t know what you want me to say."

"i want you to say whatever it is that’s bothering you."

you shake your head, staring at a spot on the floor. "it’s nothing, gracie."

she laughs, but there’s no humor in it. "liar. you shut down the moment we got home. you barely looked at me all night. just tell me what’s going on!"

"i already told you—i’m fine."

"no, you’re not." she leans forward slightly, exasperated. "and i’m tired of pretending i don’t notice when you’re upset just because you refuse to talk to me."

your chest tightens. part of you knows she’s right. but another part—the one that’s been burning since last night, since that damn song and the way it made something ugly take root inside you—wants to resist.

you run your hands through your hair, a habit stolen from her. "maybe i just don’t want to talk about it, okay?"

gracie shakes her head. "god, why do you always do this? why do you always push me away when something’s wrong?"

"because i don’t want to fight with you!" you snap, your voice rising as your patience wears thin. "i don’t want to ruin the morning or… or make things weird before your show!"

gracie exhales sharply, setting her mug down on the counter harder than she intended. "and you think not talking makes everything better? because right now, it just feels like you’re shutting me out."

you press your fingers against your forehead, breathing heavily. "i just need time, okay?"

"time for what?" her voice wavers now, a trace of hurt seeping in. "for me to stop asking? for me to just sit here and pretend i don’t see that you’re upset?"

"for me to figure out how to talk without sounding like an idiot!"

that makes her pause. the tension between you crackles in the air, the silence stretching too long.

gracie swallows, the sound making you shiver.

"you know what? forget it," she says, turning back to the sink and picking up her tea.

you close your eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply. "gracie—"

"no, i get it." she cuts you off, taking a long sip. "you don’t want to talk. fine."

gracie turns back to you, searching your face for some sign of regret, but she finds nothing but confusion.

"in the end, i’m always the only one trying to fix things," she says before walking away, the sound of her heavy footsteps echoing as she climbs the stairs.

you stay there, sitting on the stool, staring at the empty space where gracie stood just seconds ago.

your fingers grip the edge of the counter, and you let out a shaky breath, frustration still pulsing beneath your skin. this wasn’t how you wanted the morning to go. this wasn’t how you wanted things to be before her show.

but now it’s done.

you rub your face, trying to clear your thoughts. but everything feels blurred, tangled—a mess of emotions you don’t know how to unravel.

the apartment suddenly feels too small. the air inside it, too heavy.

you need to get out.

standing up quickly, you grab a sweatshirt draped over a chair and shove your keys into your pocket. the soft click of the door unlocking echoes through the apartment, but there’s no sound from upstairs. no attempt to stop you from leaving.

a part of you wishes there was.

you walk down the stairs slowly, hands buried in your pockets, with no real destination in mind. you just keep moving.

the cold morning air hits you the moment you step outside, and an immediate urge to cry swells inside you. your nose starts to sting, your eyes well up, and before you know it, those words are replaying in your head again.

"and you know, you know every inch of my body."

you know she loves you. you should let this go, shouldn’t you? but he lingers, always there, in the back of your mind.

last night, when gracie wrapped her arms around you, kissed the nape of your neck, and told you she loved you, you wanted to turn around, hold her tighter, tell her you loved her more, and start a silly argument over it.

but every time she touched you, all you could think about was how he felt.

had gracie ever looked at you and seen him? in the dark of the bedroom, between kisses and whispered promises, had a part of him ever slipped into her mind?

and if, just for a moment, she had wished it was him instead of you?

you try to push the thought away, try to hold onto the certainties gracie gives you—the way she reaches for your hand without thinking, the way her eyes light up when she talks about you, the i love yous that sound so real.

but doubt creeps in, spreading like a loose thread unraveling everything.

what if they’re not?

what if, deep down, you’re only here because he’s not?

the thought tightens in your chest. you swallow hard and keep walking, unfamiliar streets closing in around you.

but nothing feels as endless or inescapable as the maze inside your own mind.

…

the lights dim, and the crowd erupts into cheers. the air is electric, pulsing with anticipation, and gracie feels it thrumming through her veins. she grips the microphone tightly, fingers trembling just slightly, but she forces herself to take a deep breath. this is her moment—her show. no matter what happened this morning, she needs to push through.

but she knows better than to think she can just shut it out.

as she steps onto the stage, her eyes scan the audience, moving quickly over the sea of faces. the adrenaline in her chest spikes as she catches sight of you.

standing near the back, hands buried in your pockets, shoulders drawn tight, looking at her like you’re not sure whether you want to be here or not.

the moment stretches between you, thick with words left unsaid.

gracie knows that for months she has been exposing you to these painful memories embedded in her own songs. but she also knows that they are past pains, without weight or meaning, and she expected you to know that too. if something was wrong, you would tell her. wouldn't you? but as she stands there, watching you from the stage, doubt grips her chest.

did i cross the line?

abrams swallows hard, forcing herself to keep moving, to wave at the fans screaming her name, to smile like she’s okay. but her mind is already somewhere else, stuck in the heaviness of this morning, the way you looked at her, the sound of the door clicking shut behind you as you left.

she drags in another breath, stepping up to the mic as the opening chords of the first song hum through the speakers. the setlist is the same as always, but tonight, everything feels different. she wonders if you can feel it too, if the weight pressing down on her is pressing down on you as well.

and then the next song starts.

the one that ruined everything last night.

the crowd sings along, voices blending with hers. her gaze, however, is locked on yours. she sings the line without hesitation, without breaking, watching the way your jaw clenches, your eyes darkening just slightly. she wonders if you can tell that she’s looking at you. if you can hear what she’s trying to say through the words that once meant something else.

i didn’t mean to hurt you.

it’s just a song. it’s just a song.

but that doesn’t make it any less real, does it?

the song ends, the moment passes, and yet, the weight lingers. the rest of the show blurs together—flashes of movement, chords, applause—but that moment stays lodged in her ribs, burning like something she doesn’t know how to name.

by the time the final song fades, the crowd’s cheers ring in her ears, and gracie barely remembers getting through it. sweat clings to her skin as she steps backstage, her heart still pounding too fast, and she doesn’t know if it’s from the performance or the way you looked at her.

she doesn’t have time to figure it out before she hears movement behind her.

turning slowly, she finds you standing there, just a few feet away.

you’re still wearing that same guarded expression, the one that makes something in her ache, but there’s something else beneath it now. something hesitant. something like regret.

she wants to say something, anything—but what is there to say?

where were you?

are you okay?

i’m sorry?

but before she can choose the perfect false words, you take the first step. "we should talk… at home."

"yeah, definitely," she says almost automatically.

you hold each other’s gaze for a moment, both fidgeting with your hands—shared habits.

the ride home is silent. the radio plays some random melody, but neither of you really listens. gracie keeps her hands on her thighs, fingers restless, resisting the urge to reach out. she doesn’t know if it would be welcomed. if she still can.

on the other side, you stare out the window, your hand so close to hers. close enough that if one of you just…

but no one moves.

back home, the silence is just as heavy. gracie drops her bag on the counter but doesn’t step away, fingers gripping the marble as if she needs something solid to hold onto.

this time, there are no distractions. just the two of you and the space between you.

"can we talk now?" gracie asks, her voice low.

"yeah," you answer hesitant. but it takes a moment before you can actually speak.

gracie’s breath seems caught in her chest as she waits, and you hate it—hate how uncertainty spreads across her features, like she’s bracing for something bad. but the truth is, you don’t even know how to put what you’re feeling into words.

you run your tongue over your dry lips before finally saying:

"that song last night, two people… it really fucked me up."

gracie blinks a few times, surprised by the raw honesty in your voice. she swallows hard before responding.

"i didn’t…" she pauses, the words dying before they fully form. "i didn’t mean for it to hurt you."

"i know." you squeeze your fingers, letting out a heavy sigh. "but it did."

gracie nods slowly, eyes fixed on you, unsure of where to step. "you never said anything before. about the song, about…" she hesitates. "him."

"because i thought i was fine," you admit, your voice coming out rougher than you intended. "i thought i had let it go. but hearing it—hearing you sing it—just brought everything back, and i hated it. i hated that it still gets to me."

gracie stays silent for a moment, her gaze locked on you like she’s searching for the right thing to say. then, in a hesitant, almost resigned tone, she asks:

"do you want me to stop singing it?"

do you want that?

"because if you do, i will."

"of course not," you say, shaking your head. "that’s not the point, gracie."

"then what is the point?"

"i don’t fucking know!" tears start streaming down your face, and suddenly, you’ve never felt more exposed than now. "i’m sorry…" you bring your hands up to your face, as if trying to hide somehow.

gracie doesn’t think. she just moves.

before she can second-guess herself, she closes the space between you, wrapping her arms around your trembling frame. you tense at first, your body stiff against hers, but then, slowly, you sink into it.

your hands clutch the fabric of her jacket, desperate for something to hold onto, something solid in the middle of everything unraveling inside you.

gracie presses her face into your hair, eyes squeezing shut. "hey," she whispers, voice barely steady. "it’s okay. you don’t have to be sorry."

but you shake your head against her shoulder, fingers tightening. "i hate this," you choke out. "i hate feeling like this. like i’m stuck. like i—" your breath catches, breaking apart in your throat.

gracie pulls back just enough to look at you, cradling your face in her hands, her thumbs brushing the tears from your cheeks. her gaze is searching, pained, but steady. "then don’t do it alone." she almost whispers. "let me be here. let us figure this out together."

"look at me," she continues, tilting your chin up with gentle fingers.

your breath hitches. "gracie—"

"i love you."

you swallow hard, eyes flickering between hers. "i know that you love me."

"no." her grip tightens, not to hold you in place, but to make you feel her, to feel the weight of what she’s saying. she looks at you like she’s searching for something deeper, something that words alone can’t reach. "i don’t want you to just know. i need you to feel it. i need you to feel it in every vein in your body, how much i want you, how much i love you, y/n."

your chest tightens, throat burning with unshed tears.

"you’re my baby, my girl, my fucking adorable, sweet princess," she breathes, her forehead resting against yours. "i’d give you the whole damn universe if you asked me. and i’m sorry for not noticing how hard this has been for you."

"you don’t have to do anything," you shake your head. "it’s not your responsibility. it’s not your fault."

gracie lets out a soft, almost disbelieving laugh, brushing a stray tear from your cheek with her thumb. "i’m your girlfriend, of course it’s my responsibility. but it’s not just that—i want to. i want to be here. i want to hold this with you."

you let out a shaky breath, your forehead still pressed against hers. the warmth of her hands, the closeness of her body, it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

gracie watches you, waiting, giving you space even as she holds you close. there’s no rush, no expectation. just her, just this moment, just the steady rhythm of her breathing mixing with yours.

"i don’t know how to stop feeling like this," you admit, voice barely above a whisper.

"you don’t have to figure it out all at once. we’ll take it one step at a time. no pressure, no rush. just us."

you close your eyes for a moment, letting yourself lean into her, feeling the warmth of her presence wrap around you like something safe, something solid.

then, after a beat, you whisper, "say it again."

gracie pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, her lips curving into a soft, knowing smile. "i love you."

you shake your head. "no. the whole thing."

her hands tighten around your face, eyes dark and unwavering as she speaks again, voice like a vow:

"i don’t want you to just know how much i love you. i need you to feel it. in every breath, every touch, every part of you. you’re my baby, my girl, my sweet, adorable princess. and i’d give you the universe if you asked me."

tears slip silently down your cheeks, but this time, they don’t feel heavy. it’s love, because of love.

gracie catches one with her thumb, her smile turning just a little teasing, a little mischievous. "and i’m never singing two people again unless you say it’s okay."

you let out a breathy, tearful laugh, shoving her shoulder lightly. "i never said that."

she grins, eyes crinkling, before she leans in and presses the softest, most deliberate kiss to your lips. like a promise. like a beginning.

gracie doesn’t pull away right away. she lingers her lips barely brushing yours, memorizing the shape of you, like she’s making sure you feel every ounce of her love in that kiss. when she finally does part from you, it’s only far enough to rest her forehead against yours again, her breath mingling with yours in the small space between you.

"you okay?"

you nod, a little shy now, a little overwhelmed but in a way that doesn’t hurt as much anymore.

she smiles, thumbs still tracing light patterns on your cheeks before one hand slips down, lacing her fingers with yours. "come here," she says, giving your hand the gentlest tug.

abrams leads you to the couch, pulling you down with her, and before you can even think, she’s tucking you against her side, wrapping you up in warmth. it’s so easy, so effortless—the way your body finds its place against hers, the way her arm fits snugly around your waist, like you were always meant to be here.

"do you wanna talk more?" she asks after a moment, her voice soft. "or do you just wanna stay like this for a while?"

you don’t answer right away. instead, you shift, pressing your face into the curve of her neck, breathing her in. she smells like vanilla and something distinctly her, something comforting.

"this," you murmur against her skin. "just this."

gracie hums, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. "okay, baby. just this."

and so you stay there, tangled together in the quiet, her fingers trailing lazy patterns along your back, your hands resting against her chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breathing.

it’s not perfect. there’s still a lot to talk about, a lot to work through. but for now, in this moment, in her arms, you feel safe.

and that’s enough.

guys…

thanks for reading <3

back to nav

[postcardsfromheapside]

So I finished my DA2 replay, and I had wondered if I would feel differently after taking my time with it, and with the perspective of Veilguard. And yes, in small ways I do, but about the series and about Anders, I don't. That is to say: I think Veilguard is a fucking fantastic capper to the series (I mean, pray there is more, "hope for the best, expect the worst" as the Mel Brooks song goes), and Anders is relatably angry, even if the "betrayal" is frustrating and heart-breaking.

Also, there's just too much Dragon Age just the same way there's too much Tolkien, it's just that I can relisten to Tolkien via audiobook while I work and don't have time to constantly replay Dragon Age to absorb every little detail that my broken brain forgets (and I'm pretty good with lore) and I wish parts of this fandom were more curious than scathing about things they've obviously forgotten. Or skipped through, according to some of them, because I guess the context of dialogue and a cut scene isn't necessary for some of them to weigh in on things.

Word vomit of notes below the break:

First of all.

Can these two just fuck already. Watching Cassandra go from throwing him around to absolutely ENTHRALLED by Varric's complete bullshit is just going to make it so much better when I hit the "Guilty Pleasures" quest again in DA:I. This woman is SEDUCED by his story-telling, and you *cannot* convince me he wasn't gagging on his power trip.

Second.

I never played Mark of the Assassin before, and had completely forgotten Felicia Day was in DA2, and laughed like hell. I really enjoyed it. I haven't really used a stealth option in a game since leaving Skyrim for other stuff (do we ever really leave Skyrim?) and it was really fun, but I think the wyvern at the end of the DLC was actually the best fight in the entire game, even more than Corypheus. It hinted at the dragon battles to come in Veilguard. Also, I loved how Anders' dialogue got more relaxed outside of Kirkwall, like shedding the city let him loosen up. The back and forth with Hawke about his fantasy for being rescued was completely unhinged - after I accused Hawke of being feral and lacking social graces, I've decided the two of them match each other's freak and they're fine.

Third.

All the people who were losing their minds about the line "A crow never abandons a contract" and acting like the devs forgot Zevran.

He literally addresses it in the game. I keep having these moments where shit that people bitched about regarding Veilguard is addressed right *there.*

"The crows do like saying that, but I am living proof it's a lie."

No one actually forgot, but I'm sure the Dellamorte's wish to the Maker a motherfucker could.

When people complain the writing in Veilguard is too modern, I'm going to remember Hawke complaining exactly like this. She sounds like I do when I'm side-eyeing my friends in the year of our Maker 2025.

Fourth.

I had planned on romancing Blackwall this DA:I run, finally, because I'm a little obsessed with this Warden throughline from Anders to Blackwall to Davrin. From a cage, to hope/redemption, to a more meaningful path of positive change and impact.

They both haunt Veilguard's narrative and dialogue.

And then of course:

hrm.

Fifth.

I do hope we get another DA. Or supplementary material. Because I want to know what the fuck is going on with this story I had forgotten the details of, especially with the decision regarding the Nadas Dirthalen.

These two fucking idiots. I can't believe in different lives I've schtupped them both. (I can absolutely believe it)

Sixth.

The worst part of Meredith is she sounds like conservative family members of mine. 'Better to punish the innocent than risk even one guilty person go free', rather than the opposite. To them it sounds so reasonable. To us, it's abhorrent to punish everyone else for other people's crimes.

I couldn't bring myself to feel betrayed by Anders, even though I tried to play my Hawke as I think she would have felt: betrayed by the secret-keeping, if nothing else. The shock and hurt at the innocent lives. But it's hard not to feel an understanding when I sit here in a political situation with - maybe not less fraught, but at least less fantastical - implications and certainly still feel like violence is inevitable and we are way past the point of compromise and words.

Anyway.

This dwarf.

[comicbookgirl2]

My cringy re-write for Dr Sawyer storyline for Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I’m not saying I dislike chapter 4! I actually like it quite a lot! This is just what I would’ve done for the doctors side of things!

Dr Sawyer is still helping the prototype like he is in the original only this time he is secretly trying to undermine him as well. With the power of the Omni hand/chip He has a small faction of his own- but unlike either Poppy’s (sensible toys) or the prototype (toys that toe the line of insanity) his are completely feral, lacking any remnants of the humans they once were, save for the loyalty that he’d forcefully implanted into them before he’d been betrayed by Playtime co.

But this is where we diverge from cannon. You see a bit after the hour of joy - he catches wind of Poppy’s displeasure of the prototype, and being in the position he is - he can’t help but agree with her. So he makes a proposition with her- and using his database informs her of possible survivors. Perphaps one of them could give her the assistance they need and put an end to the prototypes reign of terror.

Of course she and the rest of safe haven wisely don’t trust him but what option do they have? So little by little poppy plans with the doctor but when she leaves to finally send the letter she’s intercepted by the prototype who surprise, surprise had been informed by Sawyer of the entire scheme. (Yeah he’s double crossing people lol)

The prototype locks Poppy up, and now Sawyer (wanting to buy himself some time via providing more proof of his ‘usefulness’) sends his minion bodies to descend upon the safe haven residents, capturing some and killing others.

It’s a huge blow to safe haven especially when coupled with the loss of Poppy. But for the doctor it’s a flawless victory as he reveals the plan to the prototype who allows the letter to be sent out to the player.

Cut to the time when our player is there, you still run into his minions like yarnaby and pianosaurus (who’s Sawyer’s guard dog in this world as well) and his henchmen (other computer bodies) attack safe haven as well.

but you also see that sawyer has been doing some experimentation of his own- gathering parts to build something. What you may ask?

Simple- he’s rebuilding a body for himself- one without meat that won’t rot and age.

His interactions with you are somewhat similiar- malevolent and cold (almost coming off more like a computer than human during the initial interactions) until he asks you to betray Poppy and join him. He tries to use his feral toys to make you see how frivolous it is to help them but ultimately you refuse.

So he puts you in the same room as the trapped critter giving you a choice between your life or its own. This time you can hear the critter talking- it even remembers you, and pleads with you to save it. This is one of the critters Sawyer took from the safe haven and broke to prove a point that all the toys are the same regardless of how ‘sane’ they appear to be, all the while the critter asks for help.

And this time. You do.

Both to the critter’s amazement and the doctor’s disgust you save it. The critter initially follows you for a bit before scampering off asthe boss battle proceeds as originally save for a different part where you battle Harley in his new body- this one is far stronger and more dangerous than the others and corners you about to deliver the killing blow when the critter you save from before reappears and saves you almost at the cost of its life. But it works and you defeat Harley.

I know, I know it sounds cringe but hear me out!

Harley has always looked down on things like altruism, and empathy. He yelled at Ludwig for it. So him being defeated by it would be ironic wouldn’t it? Almost bringing things to a full circle while making you once again think about Doey/Poppy’s conundrum! That maybe there is things- people in the factory that aren’t worth throwing away.

[writingtraumaforever]

Uncontrolled Chaos: Chapter 41

Notes: AN ANNOUNCEMENT! I wanna say that I have NOT stopped writing neither the 'Juno' fic or the Courtship series. I still plan on continuing those! They just take more time than the Uncontrolled Chaos series does. Uncontrolled Chaos was my first series I started here, and is by far my most followed one, so it is my priority. However, I don't want to become drained by it and that reflect in my writing. This will also hopefully give me more time to give my other series some love too. SO from here on, I will be updating the series every weekend. This doesn't mean I won't still potentially add a chapter here and there during the week if I get a spurt of muse. But as for an actual schedule to go by, I will be doing my best to post at least one update every weekend. Hope this is okay. <3

Summary: Shadow overhears an interesting conversation.

UC Masterpost!

Link to My AO3!

Start:

Amy had been relieved to see Shadow returning with Sonic by his side, both safe and sound. After some hugging and soft reassurances that he was okay as well as some apologies for making her worry, Sonic was able to convince her to go to bed and get some well-deserved rest. Afterwards, Sonic and Shadow went out to the garage to find Tails laying there asleep at the workbench by the radio.

Sonic smiled all soft at the sight, walking over to pick his little brother up and carry him to Shadow.

“Can you take him??”

Shadow blinked, staring at Sonic as if he hadn’t quite processed the question before looking at the fox. Then Sonic again. “I-..”

“I need to take care of something.. and he is seriously late for his visit to Snoozetown,” Sonic continues, already moving to carefully hand the kid off to Shadow whether he agrees to such a thing or not, “just tuck him in for me, huh?”

 “The fox and I-.. we’re not..,” Shadow tries to defend his case as to why he’s not comfortable with such a task, but Sonic just snorts and rolls his eyes.

“I know you and your Tails aren’t close.. but my Tails is close to my Shadow. So he won’t mind.. he may not be showing it, but he’s really missin’ Shadow, too.. it’s why he’s been overworking himself to get him back home to us.”

Shadow’s brows knit slightly at this, looking down at the fox that’s been pushed into his arms before sighing and giving a small nod, “Alright..”

“Thank you.”

Shadow turns, carrying the fox cradled in his arms to the door and through the home. He’s not actually sure which room belongs to the fox, but he does know which ones are the guest room and which one is Sonic’s. So by process of elimination, he finds it quite easily. It’s very tidy. Clean. The bed has a white comforter with bright red stripes on it. He wonders if the fox’s favorite color is also red like Sonic’s..

He also wonders why the hell he knows that.

Moving to the bed, he ever so carefully shifts a hand from under the kit’s back to reach and pull back the comforter, laying the child down then and pursing his lips as he looks him over. He’s still got his shoes on.. and his big, bushy tails are hanging off the side of the bed..

A nurturing nature he’s long forgotten begins kicking in, moving to carefully slip off the fox’s red shoes and place them neatly at the foot of the bed. Picking up one tail at a time, he ever so gently and tenderly tucks them up on the mattress and covers them with the comforter to keep them from dangling off. Tails shift in his sleep then, groaning quietly and smacking his lips together and rolling onto his side further into the middle of the bed before parting his lips to snooze quietly through them. Shadow smirks ever so slightly, carefully tucking the comforter into the kit’s sides to make him nice and cozy.. 

Then he’s moving to the window and shutting the blinds and closing the curtains. End of the world or not, the kid needs some actual sleep. So he doesn’t want any sunlight waking him early. 

Once all this is done, Shadow makes his way back to the doorway and grabs the knob to slowly shut it— pausing just before it shuts to take one last look at the child..

He’s never stopped in all this mess to think about it, really.. how this world’s Shadow’s absence has effected people other than Sonic..

With the other Shadow having moved in after being found by Sonic… he supposes the other Shadow may have taken on an older brother figure to the kit as well. Which means when this world’s Shadow went missing, this Sonic didn’t just lose a lover.. but this fox lost a brother..

Their family was broken.

Shadow’s lips curl into a thoughtful frown at this thought.. crimson eyes watching the kit’s shoulders rise and fall with his deep breaths as he sleeps. 

His mind can’t help but wander back to a time when he himself was someone’s brother..

To a time when tucking in a restless and tired child at night wasn’t uncommon. A time when being loved and missed by someone wasn’t such a distant thought nor outside the realm of possibilities. A time when he loved someone too.. took care of them. Protected them. 

Had a family.

His eyes shut and behind his closed lids, orange fur is replaced with blonde hair and a blue headband..

He closes the door.

Making his way towards the room he sleeps in, he finds Sonic still isn’t there resting..

So he instead makes his way back down the stairs to check on him, assuming he’s still in the garage once he doesn’t find him in either the living room or the kitchen.

Walking to the garage door, he opens it only to immediately pause upon hearing a quiet voice speaking from the inside..

“I just miss you so much..”

‘I know, my love.. we’re getting closer, though. It won’t be long until I have you in my arms again.’

“Fuck..,” the unmistakable sound of Sonic’s breathy little chuckle along with a wet sniffle, “You sound so damn cheesy..”

‘I can’t help it. Not having you with me has made me delusionally cheesy.’

Sonic snorts, Shadow peeking around the door to see him sitting at the workbench with the radio on.. speaking into it to who he can only assume is his Shadow..

He’s got small tears rolling down his cheeks, but he’s smiling bright and wide.. Shadow can’t help but feel a bit lighter seeing this.

He’s glad they’re working things out.

“…How’d the other Sonic take the news of us being together?”

Shadow’s ears perk up at that, leaning a bit more against the door as his curiosity gets the better of him. He shouldn’t be eavesdropping.. he should leave and go to bed. Rest.

But..

‘Not great at first,’ the other’s Shadow voice sighs through the speaker, ‘But he came around…’

“He feel embarrassed for not figuring it out until earlier??” 

‘Perhaps a little.. but I think most of it was just.. a lot of self loathing.’

“That’s.. really sad,” Sonic frowns, leaning a his cheek on his hand as his elbow props on the table, “Why the self loathing??”

‘He blames himself for a lot of the differences in our worlds.. for not looking for his version of me after the battle on ARK.’

“Well, dude should’ve looked,” Sonic huffs with a spiteful roll of his eyes.

‘It’s not that simple, darling..’

“Don’t see how it ain’t. Nothing could’ve stopped me from looking for you..”

‘An inhibitor ring might..’

There’s a long moment of silence. 

Shadow’s own eyes widen slightly as he listens, brows furrowing as his hand squeezes the knob of the door he’s holding a bit tighter..

“What.. what d’ya mean?”

‘It’s.. it’s just a lot,’ the other Shadow sighs through the radio speaker, sounding tired and distressed over the entire topic, ‘Just trust me when I say him not looking for me wasn’t because he didn’t care..’

“Alright.. I’ll trust you.”

‘What of the other Shadow, though?? Has he handled the situation well? Has he been kind to you?? This Sonic seems to think he’s pretty intense..’

Sonic chuckles, rolling his eyes fondly, “Intense is definitely one word for him.. but yeah. He’s cool. A bit icy, but so were you at first. It’s honestly been both a pain and extremely endearing having to deal with you being this way again.”

‘You miss me being a pain?’

“Well— no. But it’s just.. nostalgic, I guess?”

‘Maybe I should be an ass to you more when I get back.’

“As if you need to be any more of an ass than you already are,” Sonic teases with a giggled little grin. The other Shadow’s chuckling can be heard through the speakers.

‘..I was just worried. This Sonic is pretty convinced the guy hates him. Didn’t want him mistreating you..’

“He’s been fine,” Sonic assures softly.

Shadow frowns a bit at hearing this.. hearing his own Sonic thinks he hates him. Though he shouldn’t be surprised by this.. what has he really done to make his Sonic think otherwise??

“Again, he’s-.. grumpy.. and a bit difficult now and then, but nothing I can’t handle or haven’t handled before.”

‘Good,’ the other Shadow sighs, ‘So this Sonic is just projecting his self-loathing onto his Shadow, then?’

“Probably, yeah,” Sonic nods with a shrug as if the other Shadow can see his body language, “But there’s definitely some tension between them.. hate or not, they’re not exactly friendly.”

‘Mm. Definitely not..’

“Is it wrong of me to want to meddle???” Sonic chuckles.

‘Meddling wouldn’t be the best idea,’ the other Shadow sounds amused nonetheless, ‘Don’t be more of a troublemaker than you already have been.’

“Hey- you’re the one using chaos control with a fake emerald and switching places with alternate dimensional versions of yourself!”

‘Touché.’

“I just think they could be happy,” Sonic defends with a shrug, finger tracing invisible circles on the workbench he’s leaning against, “Don’t like seeing any version of you so alone and sad.. the brooding is nostalgic and amusing and all, but it’s also just kinda depressing.”

‘I know, love.. but we have to consider the fact that maybe that’s just how it’s meant to be in their world. Maybe they’re simply better off the way they currently are. We just-.. just may not be meant to be in every universe..’

“You really believe that?” Sonic asks quietly, brows knitting with a knowing little smile on his muzzle.. he knows better. He already knows the answer.

‘..No.’

“Me neither.”

A heavy sigh comes from the other Shadow again, Shadow himself furrowing his brows in thought over this whole conversation..

They really believe that Sonic and Shadow are suppose to be together in every universe?? That’s such a close-minded way of thinking. A dumb one. An illogical one..

And yet Shadow.. almost admires it. Admires the fact they love each other enough to truly think that their bond extends all barriers of time and space.. that it’s simply inevitable.

‘..They’ll work it out on their own.. for now, I’m more concerned with getting back to you.’

“Aw yeah?” Sonic’s voice takes up a playful little tone, “Whatcha gonna do to me when you get back..?”

Shadow’s eyes widen slightly, a blush beginning to grow on his muzzle.

A low chuckle rumbles through the radio’s speakers, ‘Such things aren’t appropriate to be spoken through this microphone, darling..’

“C’mon..,” Sonic coos, his tail swishing back and forth behind him as he leans closer to the radio, “M’all alone.. give me somethin’ to think about while you’re away..”

And that is Shadow’s cue to leave, yup.

He’s moving to shut the door silently, turning to hurry his way back up to the bedroom before he hears anymore of that.

Once in Sonic’s room, he closes the door behind him and sighs heavy as he leans his back against it. His eyes stare down at the floor, taking in everything he just heard and processing it slowly.

There were three big things that stuck out to him more than anything else.

His Sonic blames himself for not finding Shadow after the ARK Battle.

His Sonic thinks he hates him.

And the alternate Sonic and Shadow both believe that their love is inevitable.

It’s all a lot to swallow. And he himself doesn’t know which to believe and which to just brush aside..

He runs a hand back through his quills, taking a deep breath through his nose before sighing it out to push himself off the door and walk to the bed.

He knew going off of this Sonic and Shadow’s conversation and interpretations of the situation was pathetic. And foolish. If he wanted to get any real solutions and answers, he needed to talk to his Sonic himself. One on one..

But then the entire idea of such a thing seemed silly because that shouldn’t be his priority right now. He needs to get home. Not be worrying about figuring out him and that Faker’s history. He needs to be in the present, in the now.

Deal with that first..

And then.. when he was back home..

Maybe-…

Just maybe..

[groovy-rat-man]

Random baseless punch out wii headcanon time!!

I KEEP TRYING TO SAVE THIS TO DRAFTS BUT IT KEEPS POSTING INSTEAD BUT FUCK IT WE BALL (i might add more stuff or change things but this is what I've got so far)

Doc Louis

Hes not the step dad he's the dad who stepped up

Hes got a tshirt that says that and every time he wears it in public mac dies a little inside

Hes also got pictures of him and mac together in his wallet that he likes showing off to people

Im gonna take this time and tell you about this crackship I like. Idk why but doc louis/gabby jay is just very cute to me and i wanted to share that with you

Little Mac

Everyone makes him transmasc, everyone makes him autistic, everyone makes him selectively mute and I just so happen to be part of everyone soooo...

I might however be projecting myself onto him just a little bit but whatev

Him and Birdie are like brothers to me, not biologically but still <3

Pretty awkward around his fans, especially the ones who don't respect his personal space (looking at YOU, nameless women in super macho man's title defense intro😡)

Got called into the counselors office at his school a lot because he was always covered in bruises, every time he just showed them his latest match on his phone like "yeah don't worry everything cool at home I just get my ass kicked as my job"

Tries to be friendly with all his opponents, or at least decent with them

~~~~

Glass Joe

I read the first couple chapters of this fic and now it's just canon to me, he is a single girldad and there is nothing you can do to change that

Well I say "dad" but sometimes I like to make her transfemme just because I can so when I do that she's still a milf instead

Has always had fucked up bones and joints and health problems and stuff, boxing just made it CONSIDERABLY worse lol

Gabby Jay is like his uncle or something

Sleeps like 3 hours a night and hasn't drank water in like 10-20 years, this freak is living off of coffee, bread, wine, cigarettes, and NOTHING else

Tried to be blond, it didn't work on him

The only reason he haven't died in the ring is because god is punishing him for his hubris

His one win was when Nick Bruiser died in the ring due to a completely unrelated brain aneurism

Von Kaiser

Used to crossdress back in his younger years, he may not do it as much anymore but he still has his dresses

Actually enjoys his job as a boxing teacher! He likes instilling knowledge on the next generation

Complete neat freak, trys to suppress it as much as he can but it's always there in the back of his mind

Definitely has SOMETHING wrong with him but thinks that if he doesn't get it diagnosed then it's not really a problem

Probably has like prosthetics or metal implants in his joints or bones or something, idk why else he'd make the noises he does

Disco Kid

I like to think that he does drag in his free time, makes you wonder if him and VK ever talk about it

Can fully SPRINT in high heels, hell he could probably fight in them too if they'd let him

Always has at least a little bit of glitter on him, it's a curse

Boxing is more of a hobby for him than a career, he's just having fun with it

Always makes sure his friends are safe and having fun whenever they go out somewhere

King Hippo

Scares babies and small children on accident just by being around them and feels REALLY bad about it

The first time he met glass joes daughter he made her cry and still hasn't gotten over it

Whenever fans ask him for a signature he either writes it in the most beautiful handwriting you've ever seen or he just draws a lil hippo with a crown, which one you get depends on how he's feeling

Has a storage unit somewhere filled to the brim with all those shitty blenders that had to be recalled

He still tries to pawn them off on people, too, if he ever tries to get you a gift for like your birthday or something you just know it's one of those shitty blenders

Oh and the "king" in king hippo isn't a stage name, he is actual flesh and royalty. His subjects seem to think highly of him and he treats them well. He does a pretty good job running things too but to be fair his kingdom isn't all that big, just one tiny island that isn't on any maps.

He usually doesn't hold his title over people's heads, mostly he's just some guy

Fully CANNOT swim but he can hold his breath for ages and just sort of walks on the ocean floor (gee, almost like his namesake)

Knows what gender is, does not care for it

Likes to sketch and draw :)

~~~~

Piston Hondo

Possibly aromantic? I don't really know and I don't think he knows either.

God why don't I have any headcanons for him?? He's my fucking wife!!!!

Ok I KNOW I said he's my wife but i saw like one person make him and Bear Hugger queer platonic partners and im in love with that idea

I feel like of the two he's the one who was most concerned with putting labels on it and trying to figure out what exactly they were but eventually just decided that even if they're not in a romantic relationship they can still be soulmates and I think thats beautiful

Hes a sweet guy but he can be pretty awkward around people lol

EXCELLENT cook like you have NO IDEA

Bear Hugger

Does NOT know his own strength. He'll go to hug somebody and and break their ribs, he'll go to open a jar and shatter it into pieces. He's trying his best to be gentle but good god.

Also the gay kind of bear (the stage name was on purpose)

Can actually literally for real life talk to animals. No fucking clue how he does it, i guess it's just a Canadian thing

Lost his squirrel after losing in title defense and was DEVASTATED, but DONT WORRY the squirrel was fine

The "i like raw fish" line isn't about sushi, be just sticks his head in a river and comes out with a live salmon in his teeth

Great Tiger

Has at least one if not a plethora of cats (one of which is a British shorthair cause I feel like that's the kind of cat he'd like)

"I feed you, I home you, I give you all the treats and toys you could ask for, and what do you do? You scratch up my furniture and knock over all my nice cups! What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Mmmrrp?😺"

"Hmph, you're lucky you're cute..."

Magic is a difficult thing to control so sometimes when he sneezes he teleports, happesnt to the best of us

It took him weeks to fully resolidify after getting poofed my mac in title defense so for a while parts of his body were just vapor

If i ever draw him I'm gonna give him widdle kitty fangs, trust me

Still trying to work on his music career, the dumbass

Him and don like to gossip together like catty bitches

Don Flamenco

Carmen 100% tops him, I will not elaborate (at least not until I finish my fanfic)

#1 bi4bi couple ever

Whenever he drinks he literally does not shut up about her

"Me gusta mi esposa porque es suave y cálida y bonita y amable conmigo🥰🥰"

Sure, alright dude

I know it's HEAVILY implied that Carmen left him after he lost to mac the first time but I choose to think that he just lost all his self worth and was CONVINCED that she was gonna leave him

That... might actually be worse now that i think about it

But whatever, in the long run they get married and have twins and grow old together and it's great<3

She likes him better without his toupee, more room for kisses<3<3

"I'd kill someone for you, PLEASE ask me to kill someone for you..."

Hes tried on her lingerie more times than he's like to admit, it's gotten to the point where she just bought him his own. She wasn't upset about him stealing her clothes, she was upset because pink is NOT his color

Also I'm sorry that literally all of these are about him and Carmen, I didn't mean to do that

He is a complete giga bitch to everyone except her

I like it when people interpret mac as being Hispanic because I feel like he'd try and start a conversation with don and he'd be like "Lo siento, no hablo inglés. (Lying)" and mac would just be like "¡Oh, está bien! Así que, como te decía..." and dons just like GOD FUCKING DAMNIT

~~~~

Aran Ryan

He used to be normal, but then they put him in a room. A rubber room. A rubber room with rats. The rats made him crazy.

Does not know Irish and refuses to learn because it reminds him of being in school and he fucking HATED being in school

Probably because of the adhd or whatever is going on with his brain

Will break somebody's nose if they make fun of his accent

I see folks giving him a ton of siblings and I really like that idea but I just gave him one cause I thought it'd be easier lol

I named his sister Sharan cause I thought it'd be funny, she's also fucking crazy but when they're around eachother they're too busy trying to reel the other one in to be crazy themselves so they sort of balance eachother out

Shes about 6-7 years younger than than him and even though he KNOWS she can stand up for herself he's still very protective of her

When he first started boxing professionally he would bring her with him to get her out of the house (even though she didn't like seeing him get hurt)

Used to read her stories to help her go to sleep and would stay with her to protect her from monsters

Has fistfought his dad and would do so again if he wasn't dead

Soda Popinski

Literally just this post

Him and his wife that I made up have been trying for a baby but haven't had any luck so far

Gained his sweet tooth after quitting drinking (ya know cause he used to be called vodka drunkinski, god I'm so fucking clever)

Is actually a gentle giant outside of the ring!

His wife started knitting him sweaters once she saw him go out into the snow nearly naked. He loves and cherishes them and wears them every chance he gets but he still goes outside without pants🫠

Has killed someone on accident

Bald Bull

I like to think that he's a pretty chill guy when he's not being hounded by the paparazzi but god damn they will not leave him alone

He was probably glad when mac became champ for all the reasons macho man hated it

I honestly don't know what else to say about him

Fuck it I'm giving him agoraphobia

Him and popinski are pals😊

Has killed someone on purpose

Super Macho Man

I'm gonna be real, in my first draft of this post i completely forgot he existed and if he was real and he knew that he would be thinking about it for WEEKS

His ass: NOT real

His tits: NOT real

Thinks he's talking Like The Youth when he says shit like dude and bogus all the time

Also he's like 50

Definitely has at least one kid that he pretends not to know about, dodges child support like it's bullets in the matrix

Idk what social media was like in 2009 cause I was 4 years old but I like to think that people bully him online

Tried to own the "release the bogus" thing but it was just suuuuuuper cringe

Sometimes I like to make him ftm, I think it's neat

Sometimes I also like to make him fluent in asl but I got that one from a fanfic

Mr. Sandman

Comfypilled cozymaxer (at least when he's not training and stuff)

I feel like he would not be able to play any of the punch out games if they existed in his universe

I really dont know what to put here either

I like to think that under that intimidating exterior hes a real sweetie but I also said that about popinski and bb so it feels like I'm just being stupid

Give him some chamomile tea. Now.