#also let me know if i can word anything better!

[limethefirst]

im sorry i but i have to get in on this sonic movie s shadow train i love this movie so much as well! And ive been dieing for some movie shadow x readers to pop up. Is it alright if i request something? Can we have a shadow the hedgehog x reader where you also are living in the g.u.n base maria and shadow were? Your father or mother being on of the scientists and one day maria and shadow find you alone in a corner of the base writing music or playing with toys something (your marias age). Thrn they introuce themselfs and maybe you become part of their gaggle of fraggles to always being with them to the point your mother and gerald agree for you and maria both to share a room. With you shadow and maria being so close in time till your all like siblings? Idk this just sounded so cute. Thank you of your able to write this!

Birds of a Feather

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x reader x Maria Robotnik (platonic)

warnings: none!!!

summary: after being brought to work with your mother, Maria and Shadow stumble upon you, deciding to invite you to join their little group, from then on the three of you became inseparable

a/n: this is such a cute request! I was gonna end it with both Maria and the reader dying but I think Shadow has been traumatized enough for now…

“You stay put! I have work to do in the lab okay?” Your mother’s voice was stern; being a single mother was tough, especially because she had no one to take care of you while she did her work. You gave her a small nod, acknowledging her request.

A slight sigh escaped her lips as she lightly caressed your cheek, “Just, behave for me please,” was the last thing she told you before she walked into the door to your right, the words ‘Laboratory’ in bright white above the area.

You slowly sat down on the floor, she’d asked you to not leave and you really wanted to respect her decision, even as a child you knew her life was harder than she’d let on.

Unfortunately you were a child with a small attention span. You dug into your pockets and found a small notebook with equations, probably from your mom and a small pencil. Since there was nothing better to do maybe it was best to just draw a little bit, maybe some flowers and animals you liked.

Sitting there, you slightly hunched over, trying your hardest to draw the most beautiful roses and some bees and landscape you could. Suddenly a voice rang out from above you, “What are you doing here?” Your head snapped up, meeting the eyes of a small blonde girl and a strange black and red hedgehog.

“Uhm my mom works here..” you nervously answered her, “What are you doing here?” You asked her exact question but back at her.

“My grandfather works here!” She proudly exclaimed. The hedgehog looked between the both of you, he stood covered behind her, he had a mean face but you could tell he was more curious than anything.

The girl taking note of the awkward silence decided to introduce herself, “I’m Maria! And this is Shadow! What’s your name?”

You looked between the two, taking in who they were before you quietly responded with your name, Maria let out a big grin and Shadow silently repeated it to himself, “What are you drawing?” Maria asked, looking at the small notebook in your hand. You looked down at it and turned it over so the two could see; it looked like a small rabbit with butterflies and flowers around it, “Woah that looks really cool!”

Shadow silently nodded, agreeing with her. You thanked the two of them, fidgeting with your pencil. As Maria continued to talk you took notice of her outfit, she wore a pastel rainbow long sleeve shirt and loose pants with skates on her feet instead of shoes. She must’ve noticed you staring at them as she suddenly asked, “Do you wanna try them!?”

You hesitantly shook your head, as much as you wanted to you didn’t really know her and if she would even be okay with that. Maria reassured you that it was fine and actually really fun, before you could tell her a definite no she’d already taken them off, placing them in front of you, “Try them! Shadow can pull you around,”

Shadow looked between the both of you, clearly not having agreed but Maria nodded her head yes, leaving Shadow to only agree. Surely your mom wouldn’t notice if you were gone for a quick second.

Once you were geared up and Maria found a rope to tie onto Shadow and for you to hold, she grabbed her timer, “Ready, set, go!!” Before you had time to really brace yourself Shadow had already set off, he ran through the base, his face held a small smile as he checked back a few times to check if you were still holding on.

He saw the wide smile you had, your laughter was echoing throughout the hall filled with the other agents. Quickly you already finished the lap and had made your way back to Maria, but unfortunately you didn’t exactly know how to stop, so as Shadow had slowed down you still held a generally fast speed. Too fast actually, causing you to trip and fall face first; thankfully the fast hedgehog was able to grab you and hold you up before you fell and ate concrete.

Maria ran over to check and make sure you were okay, feeling guilt if she somehow made you upset from almost falling. As you stood up, you turned back to look at the two, your extremely wide smile shocking them both, it was almost contagious as Maria started to smile and laugh and Shadow breathed a sigh of relief but you could see the small twitch in his lips making them quirk up.

Suddenly you heard your name coming from beside you, turning you saw your mom as well as her boss Professor Gerald Robotnik looking at the three of you, “I thought I told you to stay put!” Her expression wasn’t one of anger, more a mix of stress and lack of sleep.

“Mom! I’m sorry I just met Maria and Shadow and they’re really fun and I thought it was okay, we didn’t cause any trouble-“ You started to ramble feeling immense guilt for betraying your own mother, but you were suddenly cut off.

“Now now, I think it’s quite alright, you see Maria is my granddaughter, and I trust her and your child doesn’t seem bad” The professor interrupted and explained to your mother, “I actually think it’s good for the kids to hangout and get along” he advocated for you.

All three of you nodded your head, even Shadow was agreeing! Your mom reluctantly nodded her head, agreeing that he was right.

And so you came daily, until your mom had to start working 24/7 and so Gerald let you stay in Maria’s room, even getting you guys a bunk bed. It was nice, the three of you became like the three musketeers, you’d never see each other alone anymore.

Sometimes Maria would play music and you three would all dance and jump around together. At some point you even got your own pair of skates so that you three could race, although Shadow always won.

Life was fun, everyday was like an endless sleepover, sometimes the three of you would sneak out and watch the stars, even falling asleep under the moonlight. It wasn’t bad, not at all.

These were the best days of your life, just you and your two best friends.

[spatialwave]

Jayce Talis as a Husband & Father | Headcanons

➸ ask: "hiii i was wondering if you could do post s2 arcane headcanons for Jayce?? like jayce x wife!reader that have a newborn baby??" ➸ pairing: jayce talis x wife!reader ➸ word count: 923 words ➸ tags: mdni! sfw, fluff, comfort, mentions of jayce’s trauma, pregnancy, headcanons, childbirth, parenthood, canon-divergent ending. ➸ notes: i went really poetic with this idk why. also this definitely heightened my already terrible baby fever……. please for the love of god send me more asks about girldad jayce, i am begging you. i love writing these.

When you met Jayce Talis, you fell madly in love with him almost instantly—as did he with you. Within the first six months of your relationship, he proposed to you with a ring that he’d smithed himself, adorned with a hextech gemstone that sparkled unlike anything you’d ever seen. Of course, you said yes… and moved in within that same week.

Living with Jayce Talis meant dealing with the aftershocks of what he’d gone through during his time in the arcane and subsequent war. With a permanently injured leg and mental wounds that left him cursed by night terrors, you were they by his side to help him overcome his past. You were the rock he hadn’t known he needed, the one who encouraged him to keep fixing what he’d broken (and not without his partner, Viktor.)

Although he’d gone through hell and back, he found joy and happiness in you again. No longer was he filled with anger and guilt for allowing his naivety to take control of what was right—all Jayce wanted was to be happy. With you. 

When you found out you were pregnant, Jayce was over the moon, excited and horribly nervous. He constantly worried whether or not he’d be a good father, and the absence of his own in his life made him uncertain. He would spend countless evenings with his mother, asking her hundreds of questions about parenthood, which either made it better or worse depending on what he wanted to know.

However, the worry washed away when he held his little girl in his arms—weighing shy of six pounds and so tiny in his arms. It was a beautiful sight, a rugged man with messy hair, scarred arms, and calloused hands holding the love of his life.

Your daughter brings out a side of Jayce that Viktor told you is reminiscent of his life when they first met all those years ago: gentle, curious, nervous and much too excited. 

Jayce is messy and clumsy in his parenting, learning as he goes, but he is so dedicated. He’s used to being covered in stains but no longer in oil and soot from his work. Now it’s spit-up and dried milk… among other things. And to you, he’s never looked sexier than when he’s a mess.

Even though he’s still a councillor and working with Viktor on restabilizing hextech, he makes time for his family. The days of late-night tinkering in the lab or long council meetings are in the past because there is nothing more important to him than you two.

He is a very overprotective dad, constantly worrying about the little things and often getting sleepless nights because he checks on her one too many times to make sure sleeping soundly in her crib. He baby-proofs your home with everything he can make—doorstops, locks for the cabinets and removing any of his work from his home to the lab so there are no accidents. It’s cute, but considering that your daughter is shy of two months old, the baby-proofing tends to get in the way, but you let him. ‘Father knows best’ is a term he coins and uses, much to your annoyance.

Jayce always splits the tasks of parenting between you two but is never opposed to taking on more than you if you need the rest. As you slowly transition to include bottle feeding in your routine, he takes on nightly shifts for you. You find him asleep a few times, sitting up against the crib with a blanket covered in spit-up draped over his shoulder and an empty bottle in his hand.

He is a sentimental man. He makes a locket that he wears as a necklace every day, tucked beneath his clothing, and shows it off to anyone that he can—a photo of you and your daughter inside it.

You swear you’ve never been more in love with Jayce than you are now. A loving father and husband who doesn’t let his new role as a parent overshadow his love for you.

He’s just as romantic as he was the first time he took you on a date. A month after you gave birth and were far too stir-crazy to be at home any longer, Ximena watched your daughter, and he took you out on a date that reminded you of simpler times. Showering you with gentle touches and kisses that set your heart on fire and reignited your passion.

Jayce noticed how your confidence dropped since the pregnancy. He finds you looking at yourself in the mirror and trying to love the body that grew your daughter, hands over your still-rounded stomach and tracing the stretchmarks. Changes that look so large in your eyes go unnoticed by him, and he makes sure to cherish your body as a reminder that his love for you hasn’t changed.

Every night in bed, he kisses your stomach, your hips, your thighs—peppering your body with kisses and massaging you as he worships your strength and beauty, silently thanking you for bringing your daughter into the world. 

As with any relationship, there are good days and bad. Some days go so smoothly that you wonder if you both were naturally inclined to be the perfect parents. Then come the days when all you can do is argue, overcome with the stress, fears and worries of marriage and parenthood.

But you make it through because to be loved by Jayce Talis is to feel love unlike anything you have experienced before, and that is worth the hardships.

[vanillakook]

❥. 　⁓ art: objective or subjective? - j.j.k

you being jungkook’s snippy academic!rival is so funny to him because he knows you are definitely not like that. yes you were incredibly headstrong and worked hard on whatever was put in front of you. he couldn’t deny you were the best at what you did (he was better). that mouth you had on you though? all for show. that’s why he let you dog him out with insults and backhanded compliments in front of everyone during lectures. at the end of the day your classmates have never seen you how he does. a pretty, fucked out, desperate slut who lost all of her self proclaimed morals the moment he touched her.

so yeah, talk circles around him during debates, but wouldn’t let you get your words out later as he plunged his dick down your throat. score higher than him on that math exam, but be prepared to be sprawled out on his lap as he tested how many of his digits you could take. thats why he didn’t care when you ridiculed him in front of the entire class after he very confidently said an opinion you didn’t agree with. todays debate topic was on the idea of art being objective or subjective. as always, you and jungkook never saw eye to eye, always having opinions that counteracted one another.

he sat back in his seat, arms crossed and glaring at you sternly. “art is objective. it needs to be done with structure, have meaning. otherwise how will we pass it down to other generations for them to study? you can’t have an over saturated market of… nothing.” he argued.

you tilted your head. everyone knew this was about to get heated, all scooting to the edge of their seats. “you’re kidding… right? anything can be art. art is personal. it’s fun, its serious, it’s silly, its structured. art can be anything, why would you limit art to educational purposes?”

“to birth more art you have to study art, y/n. you have to learn from what came before you.”

“yes, but it can also be just a fun and creative outlet for people, not everyone wants to study art. some people just want to do it. you write music pieces, i expect you of all people to know what i’m trying to say.” you turned around in your seat, going back to copying the notes from the slides. you knew he hated that. it was a sign of disrespect, that you had no interest in what he had to say. you bit back a smile though, knowing he would make you pay for this later.

“which is why i do it with precision and expertise that i’ve studied and learned, so people can learn from me to continue creating great art.”

your pen stopped in the middle of your notebook. your head swiveled and you scrunched your nose. “who said you create art?” a roar of laughter swept through the students of the lecture, once again you had the upper hand.

“yikes jk, you’re gonna keep taking that?” one of your classmates said.

yes, and he did keep taking it. it was worth it because now look at you, back at his apartment, in his clothes, taking his dick. you tried to crawl up from his large desk and all he did was wrap your perfectly styled hair around his fist and pull you back into him. “wanna run away now huh? i know you’re not stupid enough to do that.” your arch sank deeper while he continued to rock you into his desk. studying materials scattered across the room, pencils, papers, and textbooks being sent flying.

“k-koo please–” you panted out. your hand pushed at his pelvis while he hiked your skirt farther up your waist so he could see your ass clap down on him more. your cunt was so creamy around him, spilling around his cock and creating a lewd scene for the man.

“come on sweetheart, give me all that mouth that you had in class. try saying that stupid little argument now.” he positioned himself at the perfect angle to where he would directly hit your g-spot. that was jungkook for you, precise and perfect, even when ruining his pretty fucktoy’s pussy. his hand shoved your head down into a pile of his notes, watching you squirm with a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. he bullied his cock up into that messy cunt of yours, heavy balls slapping against your clit and waiting to be emptied into your womb. for someone who had an argument for everything, all you had spilling out of that mouth now were drools and moans.

“y-you fuck me so good koo, your cock feels so good in me koo! yes! yes! yes! fuck me koo fuck my pussy!” your babbles were muffled by the math notes your head rested on. your pussy showed him just how good he fucking you, sopping and clenching down on him. he was turning that brain and cunt into pure mush. you were at a point of no return. he flipped you like a rag doll and lifted you up on the desk, swiping his papers on the ground with everything else. he had abruptly removed his dick, leaving you empty with a heaving pussy.

“debate me now baby, just us.”

you rolled your eyes and reached for him, yet he took a step back, cock in hand, stroking it slowly while he took in your state. your usual prim and put together appearance now looking like one of a porn stars. hair tossed, skirt hiked, knee high socks pooling low around your calves. “jungkook come on–” he smacked your hand away.

“nah you come on, said art is subjective huh?”

“yeah, because it is, art is personal and if you decide to limit it to just having to be perfect that quite literally challenges the idea of creativity as a whole and– jungkook.” he positioned himself at your entrance, drowning his tip into your wet folds. dragging it up down, circling it around your bud, and prodding at your tight hole.

“what? continue.”

“art is… it’s… fuck i really don’t care about what art is just fuck me koo, please.” your hips moved in circles, teeth sinking into your lip while you watched yourself grind on his tip. “mhm your turn. what’s art kookie?” you didn’t mean for that to come out in a slutty, lewd moan.

“objective. take this pussy for example,” he caught you off guard completely, stuffing you to the brim with dick and holding it up against your soft spot. “i made you baby– i studied you– my work of fucking art.” his hips picked up a violent pace and rocked into you until you were shaking and cumming around his shaft. and so he spilled into his pretty work of art, shooting his seed up inside of you and leaving your womb painted white. “final arguments?” his chest heaved while he was still buried inside of you.

“i-“ you sighed. “i guess art can be objective.”

masterlist

[gay-jewish-bucky]

It's pretty unbelievable that the bare minimum of respecting a culture you are not a part of is too much to ask of so many of you, especially ex-Christians. Not only does any trauma you might have NOT give you an excuse to be an asshole about other people's culture and rituals, but so many more people seem to think that basic decency isn't required, and that appropriation (distinct from cultural appreciation) is totally cool and praxis when it happens to the "right" people.

Celebrating an open religious holiday for non-religious reasons (which is valid, and no one is stopping you, and it doesn't change your faith, or lack thereof, to take part in it), is not going to magically make the holiday inherently secular, nor will it erase the existence of the living people that still observe it, no matter what arguments you come up with and how often or how loudly you repeat them. It just isn't.

When it comes down to it: If you aren't part of a religious identity, you don't get a say in how that identity and the practices that are tied to it develop. Acting like you're more import than adherents is an asshole move. This is something else that seems like the bare minimum of respect we owe each other as humans, but it gets thrown out the window once something is deemed an "acceptable" target for erasure.

It's wrong to do to these things to every religious identity. Yes, including Christians. Stop leaving them out of basic standards of respect everyone else is entitled to. Whatever your reasons are for leaving them out are, get over yourself, because you're being a dick.

I'll hand this off to my Christian friends if they want to add anything!

If you hold 0 respect for Christians or Catholics as people, or for their religious identities and traditions (regardless of differences in beliefs or views on systemic issues), as someone who isn't either, you shouldn't be touching their holidays (that includes Christmas).

The lengths you're willing to go to erase the billions still alive who observe these very holidays religiously to maintain your denial are just sad. Weaponizing long forgotten religious pagan practices "well, it originally was..." or dismissing hundreds of years old traditions as "capitalist inventions" does not change the fact that holidays like Christmas and Easter were and remain celebrations of Jesus.

You don't have to believe in Jesus to join in most celebrations*. You can pick and choose what you want to observe and what traditions you enjoy, but if you're so ashamed of having any association with a religion that you've decided the correct solution is to push your narrative on those who celebrate from a place of faith and those who don't celebrate independently from a place of faith (including those who will join friends and family, while maintaining their own religious beliefs), you have lost the plot and everyone would be happier if you just let go completely and created your own holiday and traditions.

*though there are closed traditions, particularly in ethnoreligious groups, that also deserve to be respected and left alone, not every religious group or denomination that believes in Jesus is open

[cheshireliam]

"Wrapped in Wicked Romance" Story Event: Chapter 2

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

(Now… I wonder what I should talk to Ring about.)

(... Huh?) 

While I was trying to think of a conversation starter, I realised that Ring was already way ahead of me. 

Kate: Ring! Wait up! 

Ring: !? Why are you so far behind…? 

I hurriedly chased after him and he rushed back toward me.

We met halfway and started walking side by side again.

Kate: Perhaps my strides aren’t as long as yours. I’ll try to keep up. 

Ring: No, I should’ve slowed down to match your pace. … My bad. 

Ring: A-anyway, you can hold onto my arm.

Kate: Thank you. 

Ring: Actually… I wanted to have you hold my arm back at the meeting point. 

Kate: Was that during your sudden warm-up session just now?

Ring: Yeah. … I should've let you hold my arm earlier if I knew you were going to be left behind.

Ring: I’m not good at acting like a lover at all. Even if it's Dari’s orders…

Kate: Neither of us are acting the part right now, so don’t let it bother you. 

Kate: Is there anything else you wanted to say but couldn't?

Ring: There is. It’s about… your outfit. 

Ring: “I love your outfit today. It suits the little robin very well”.

Ring: “Where did you get that bracelet? I want to get a matching one”. 

Kate: Huh…? 

Ring: “The design around the collar is fun. It really looks like your kind of thing. Also—”... 

Kate: Um… are those your own words? 

I couldn't help but interrupt when Ring, who had been acting awkward the whole time, suddenly started complimenting me so smoothly that it felt unnatural.

Ring: … Y-you’re sharp. As expected from a member of Crown… you’re dangerous. 

(It’s not that I’m sharp, it’s that Ring’s behaviour is so obviously unnatural…)

Ring: Actually… I had Nica teach me some words to compliment you, so that I can do a better job at pretending to be your lover.

Kate: So that’s what happened…! I’m happy you prepared yourself in advance, but…

Ring: “But”? 

Kate: I’d much rather hear you use your own words, Ring.

Kate: Do you usually compliment your lover using words someone else said?

Ring: N-no, I don't… I-I think. 

Ring: A-anyway, give me a moment while I think of the words to compliment you. 

Kate: … You don't have to force yourself to compliment me if nothing comes to mine, okay?

Ring: No, I really do think your outfit looks nice, it's just… umm… 

He took my comment about wanting to hear him use his own words seriously and struggled to respond. 

I couldn't help but find it endearing that he was trying so hard…

(You can do it…!) 

I silently cheered him on in my heart.

Ring: Your outfit today looks… frilly and soft… I-I think it’s c-cute.

Ring: It reminds me of a purple Hardenbergia flower… the subdued color is comforting to look at. 

The words he finally managed to string together sounded hesitant and awkward, but they struck me deeper than any borrowed praises could ever.

Kate: I never would've thought of comparing the colour of my clothes to Hardenbergia flowers! It makes me so happy to hear that.

Ring: …! I-I see… that's good to know.

Kate: You must know a lot about flowers, don’t you?

Ring: Y-yeah… I probably know more about flowers than most other things. 

Kate: There are some flower beds on the way to The Scala.

Kate: If you don't mind, could you tell me what flowers they are?

Ring: … If I can identify them. 

…

And so, on our way to The Scala, Ring taught me about the flowers blooming along the road… 

Thanks to that, his nervousness seemed to have eased significantly by the time we reached Piccadilly. 

Ring: … It’s about time for the play to start. We made it just in time.

Kate: You’re right! The Scala is right up ahead. Let’s go. 

(... He’s still a little awkward, but I feel that he’s conversing more naturally now as compared to this morning.)

Even Ring was wary of me and said some disturbing things earlier on… 

He was an honest, upright person who was willing to listen to what I had to say. 

That honestly was likely the reason why I could freely interact with him without feeling on edge myself. 

(I’m looking forward to watching the play. I wonder what kind of reactions Ring will have.)

(... Huh?)

Ring: … Why did you suddenly stop? Is something wrong?

Kate: P-pardon me. There’s something I want to verify… you come too, Ring! 

I grabbed Ring’s arm and led him toward an alley in the opposite direction of The Scala. 

…

Ring: … What business do you have in an alley like this?

Kate: There’s been a rise in child abduction cases in the area lately, and I thought I saw someone resembling the suspect on the run… 

Kate: Ah… it’s him! 

I lowered my voice and pointed at a man lurking in the shadows of the alley. 

Kate: There’s a chance I got the wrong person, so I’m going to act casual and try to get information out of him— 

While I was explaining the situation to Ring, a young girl wandered into the alley, perhaps by accident.

At that moment, the man made a move. 

(Ah…!) 

He crept up behind the girl and covered her mouth with a piece of cloth he had in his hand. It seemed to have been laced with some sort of drug. 

The girl fell unconscious, and the man skillfully stuffed her into a bag before attempting to flee the scene.

Kate: Ring, let’s go after him! 

Ring: … No, we need to report this to Dari and have him make a decision first. 

Kate: What…? B-but there's a kidnapping happening right in front of our faces! We must act now! 

Ring: I was ordered to only ensure you return to the castle safely today. Any actions taken beyond that are prohibited.

Ring: Getting involved in strange situations would be going against Dari’s orders.

Ring: I understand that you want to help, but we should only act after reporting to Dari. 

(How can he say such things when a serious crime is being committed right under our noses…?)

Just a couple of minutes ago, I concluded that Ring was an honest and upright person that would never tell a lie.

But it was precisely because of that, I instantly knew that his words right now weren’t lies. 

In other words… Ring had no intention of stopping the crime from happening at all. 

Ring Schwartz, the person I thought I was starting to understand, became a complete stranger to me once more.

Kate: … F-fine. Then I’ll go after that criminal MYSELF!

Ring: H-hey…! 

[georgeplease]

i’n the one who needs to know your headcannons pleaseee, what do you think are the differences between dating fred and george? i love them both and honestly i’m more of a fred girly but george too is something to me. thank uu

a rose for you 🌹

So I have a few off the top of my head, this is just a few of them and I’m so willing to get into more specifics of them or tweak some of these if yall don’t agree.

I think George is a little more reserved than Fred. He’d prefer a night in over a party with his s/o. Not all the time, he does enjoy a good night out every so often, but maybe like three times a month he wants to stay in. He also will avoid being the complete center of attention, usually lets Fred do all the talking, he’s not introverted by any means tho.

Neither of the twins are introverted. But Fred is more extroverted than George. Fred is willing to go up to his crush and ask them out. George can talk to his crush, but he would rather see if it will come naturally than ask outrigh, see if there’s a connection and get to know them.

Fred is so useless with Muggle technology it is actually insane. Give him an iPhone and some AirPods and be entertained. George is a little less helpless, still baffled by it but is willing to understand it more. George puts on an effort if you are muggle born to know your world, while Fred sees magic as a better solution. Still both use magic as a crutch.

HOWEVER, Fred would be so tiktok addicted. Does he understand it? No. Does he spend most of his time scrolling? Yes. Cares deeply about his streaks.

I think Fred is a bit oblivious to things. Doesn’t realize his actions have consequences, so he might say something rude and not realize he shouldn’t have. If something he did or said made you upset he does apologize and tries to do better in the future.

George is careful with his words, he doesn’t accidentally say anything rude. Which can often mean, if he does anything rude he usually meant it.

George is organized chaos, yes his office is a mess but at least he knows where everything is. He has a system and it works for him. But he knows how to tidy things up.

Fred is just messy. Leaves things in random spots, never knows where. He needs AirTags for almost everything but he is stubborn and swears he knows where he put it.

I feel like both the twins are quite independent. They love their mom and dad, but they aren’t a mommas boy or anything like that. They have so many siblings that they kinda just have each other to ask for advice.

BOTH WOULD DATE WEIRD GIRLS/BOYS. Like during their time at hogwarts they were popular, but once they are adults they would love to have a weird partner. Fred would probably really like a more goth/alt/emo partner, like sure put the 7 hour fnaf deep dive on babe. While George would love a whimsigoth crystal partner, like sure let’s get the 4 foot tall amethyst statue.

I think Fred is more open with the type of people he dates, he’s adventurous with who he dates. If he thinks you are hot, he’s gonna wanna try.

I think George is a little more reserved about who he dates. Probably not into party girls, but likes someone who he can relax with.

☃️CHRISTMAS HP HEADCANON PARTY☃️

[hischierslovergirl]

“Are you jealous?” “No, I’m not!” “Oh, you really are jealous! Wait, why would you be jealous?” with Nico?

Thank you for requesting! I tweaked the wording from the prompt around a bit to fit better, I hope that’s okay! x

It wasn’t uncommon for Nico to drag you to whatever team gathering was being held, but it was getting increasingly difficult to convince people that the two of you weren’t together with each one you attended. No matter how many times the two of you told everyone you guys were just friends, no one seemed to believe you. You understood why your denials fell to deaf ears, especially after the two of you turned up to their halloween party in matching costumes, but their constant teasing only acted as an incessant reminder that Nico didn’t reciprocate your well hidden feelings.

For New Years, a few of his teammates were gathering at some bar to celebrate, and you had agreed to go since the few other friends you had were gone back home. You were lingering in a corner with a few of the other girls as some of the guys went back to the bar to replenish on drinks. As the four of you were in an in depth conversation about the usual drama, you felt a gentle tap to your shoulder.

You hesitantly looked over your shoulder and let your eyes fall on a tall, muscular guy who looked like he had just stepped out of a copy of GQ. He was sporting a bright and wide smile as he held his hand out, which you gingerly took in your own as you glanced at Nicole.

“Hi, I’m Colin,” He introduced himself, “I saw you as soon as I walked in, and I couldn’t help but come introduce myself to the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

You raised your brows at his brazenness, hearing the quiet chuckles of the girls behind you as you tell him your name, “Nice to meet you, Colin. You’re very sweet.”

By the time the boys got back, Colin had left you with a not so subtle remark about where he’d be once the clock struck midnight, and the girls were relentlessly teasing you about it.

“What are you guys talking about,” Nico asks as he hands you your drink before slotting himself against your side.

“Oh, nothing,” Nola waves off, “Just making sure she’s ready for her New Years kiss.”

Nico nearly choked on his drink as her words echoed around him, earning several knowing looks from everyone except for you. You watched him with wide, confused eyes as he brought his hand to wipe away the remnants of the beer around his mouth before taking a deep breath. His eyes shifted towards you, trying to gauge if what the girl across from him was being truthful, but all he found was worry on your face.

“What New Years kiss,” Nico slowly mumbled, eyes squinting at you with uncertainty.

“There’s no New Years kiss,” You roll your eyes, “Some guy came up to me when you guys were gone and tried to hit on me. Told me he’d be standing in the corner by the booth at midnight ‘just in case I wanted to know’.”

You watched as Nico’s face fell, his lips turning downwards into a frown as he looked away from you and to the table in front of him. The grip he had on his beer tightened to the point that his knuckles were turning white, which made you furrow your brows in confusion, but it also made a swell of hope form in your chest.

“Why? Are you jealous,” You teased, playfully bumping him with your shoulder.

“What? No, I’m not,” He scoffed, shaking his head so aggressively that his beanie slid around on his head.

You can see everyone subtly slip away from the table from the corner of your eye, but you pay them no mind as you observe Nico and the way his entire demeanor seemed to have shifted. His eyebrows were knitted together in evident frustration, his shoulders pulled taut as he absentmindedly swirled the liquid around the beer bottle.

“Wait,” You breathe out, taking a shaky breath to rid yourself of the nerves radiating from your body, “Are you jealous?”

When Nico didn’t say anything, you took a step closer to him and gently placed your hand on his bicep, fingers curling around the muscle as you hesitantly try again, “Nico, why would you be jealous?”

He dragged his deep brown eyes to the hand on his arm then up to your own, pure and raw vulnerability swimming in the depths of his irises as he says, “I think it’s pretty obvious, no?”

If you thought you were nervous before, it was nothing compared to how you felt now. Your entire body was on fire, heart drumming in your chest and your head spinning at the insinuation he was hiding between his vague words. Everything you wanted to say kept getting caught in your throat, the idea of being wrong made a pit form in your stomach, so you decided to play it safe.

“Depends,” You shrug, anxiously chewing on the inside of your cheek as you brought your arm back to your side, “What part is obvious?”

“Seriously,” He slyly raises his eyebrows, “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” You let out a quiet hum, “Just to be sure.”

Nico discarded his half drank beer on the table, ignoring the several pairs of eyes that had been watching the two of you since they left, and gingerly placed his hands on your hips. He paused for a moment, taking the time to see if his touch made you uncomfortable, and it wasn’t until you wrapped your arms around his neck and closed the gap between the two of you that he felt confident enough to continue.

“I did get jealous,” He confirmed, pressing the pads of his fingers into your skin, “I don’t like the idea of you kissing someone that isn’t me. I never have.”

“Why did you never say anything,” You bluntly asked through a surge of courage.

“You seemed pretty set on us being just friends when the guys would say something,” He gloomily admitted, his accent thick with emotion, “I didn’t think you wanted more.”

You can’t help but let a quiet, amused chuckle slip past your lips as you shook your head in disbelief. While you had always assumed Nico was clear on his stance to just be friends, he thought it was you.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because,” You smiled up at him, “We’re stupid. We should’ve just talked to each other and we could’ve avoided so much.”

“Yeah,” He deeply sighed. He opened his mouth to say something else, but was caught off by the music stopping and someone announcing that it was thirty seconds to midnight. Everyone began to rush to their respective partners, or to grab their loud poppers filled with confetti.

“So,” You drawl, tightening your grip in Nico as you lean into him, “Wanna be my New Years kiss?”

He nudges your nose with his own as he mumbles, “Can I be your everyday kiss instead?”

“I think we can work something out.”

[creatingblackcharacters]

Say, if someone were to take a long time (more than months) before speaking up about racism, are they wrong for not immediately addressing it and instead letting the hurt fester? The first time it happened I was questioning my own perception, and by the time I became sure, it feels like it's too late (and it's also been very long after the last time I saw it happen too), and I feel like I also played a part in not immediately speaking up because of fear of the consequences. None of the racism were big enough, but if I were to list every instance then wouldn't it look like I'm being petty and trying to smear campaign someone? Or immature for being avoidant and not communicating my hurt immediately?

I'm going to approach this from an antiblackness perspective, since that's what I talk about here.

I think it depends on a couple of factors. Are you Black? If so, then no, it's not wrong to feel hurt about it no matter how long ago it happened. What you experienced was wrong, and it'll always be wrong. Plus, not wanting to speak up because you know it'll just be a threat to you is a common reason why Black people usually don't speak up about racism. Because yeah, you'll get dogpiled and gaslit and abused when you dare suggest someone was *gasp* bigoted toward you and needs to apologize! There's no statute of limitations on racism, and we shouldn't have to create an entire case to prove ourselves the way we do. That said, if this is a stranger, you will probably not be able to approach on the offensive because you let the time pass. So unless you have receipts, really all you can do is block them and move on with your life, or tell them privately "hey, this thing you said/did wasn't okay. I didn't say anything before because I wasn't sure how you'd take it, but I have not felt as safe around you since then, and I felt you needed to know" (and then probably block them). And you can't expect them to take it well- all you can do is say something, if you choose to at all. And if they take it that poorly, now you have the ability to tell others "yeah, this person did not take hearing about their bigotry well, and is not safe for Black people to be around". Because I would want to know if who I'm sharing from hates me.

If you are not Black, then I want you to consider (using your words) why the racism wasn't "big" enough, especially given that it wasn't dangerous towards you. What do you need to see in order to speak up? And by allowing it to get that large, recognize that you helped create a space where that behavior was safe and acceptable by saying nothing when all the "small" racism was occurring! That said, people are going to take it as petty regardless of your intent, because that's how racism is treated both here and outside the internet. It may be demeaned, treated as a smear campaign, because people think calling out racism is worse than being racist. So it really depends on how much you're willing to stand on it. You saw all these things happen, you have the receipts, you know you're in the right- are you willing to speak up? Are you willing to accept what may happen, or are you more worried about your own comfort? Maybe you'll allow Black people who saw all that racism feel heard and valid, so they can speak up too. Maybe you'll start a conversation that needs to be had. Maybe you'll be a step towards cracking that environment where this racism was acceptable, or worse case scenario, you'll recognize that this isn't a place you want to be if racism is treated so lightly. Those are hard decisions!

Sorry that this probably didn't make you feel better, but it's not a light topic.

[speaknow-sw]

THE POET AND THE ROSE

Content : light description of injury, stitching. Plot with plot.

A/N ; Sooo here I am with chapter 2 and I’ve decided to say : FUCK THE HATERS !!! Here’s a 4.1k word king chapter WITHOUT smut for the real people pleasure. Anyway guys I swear I’m getting better with English poetry but this chapter really shows that English is not my first language. 😭 (just let you know that I’ll still cross post this story on ao3)

꧁ Chapter 2 : Bound in Silence ꧂

From the Lays of General Anakin Skywalker, XIII century

"Two hearts bound by duty’s chain,

Silent as the falling rain.

Walls we’ve built, cold and high,

Guard the truths we both deny.”

As the days turned to weeks, the initial passion and tenderness shared between you and Anakin faded like a distant memory, replaced by an unsettling void. He was consumed by his duties as General, often riding out at dawn to attend to the needs of his men and the villages under British protection. You were left to navigate the labyrinthine castle and the complexities of the British court alone.

The castle was a sprawling, ancient edifice filled with echoing corridors and shadowy alcoves. The air was always thick with the scent of beeswax candles and the faint, lingering aroma of history. The servants regarded you with a mix of curiosity and wariness, unsure of how to address the French princess who had become their lady.

At court, the British nobles eyed you with a combination of disdain and fascination. Whispers followed you through the grand halls, and you could feel their judging stares boring into your back. Not a single soul approached you, and you were left to wander the lavish rooms alone, a solitary figure amidst the glittering tapestries and ornate furniture.

Anakin's absence left you with an aching emptiness in your chest. You found yourself longing for his presence, for the warmth of his touch and the depth of his gaze. But as the days stretched on without a word from him, you began to wonder if you had imagined the connection between you.

Late one evening, as you sat alone in the grand library, poring over a dusty tome, you heard a soft knock at the door. Startled, you looked up to see a young page standing nervously in the doorway.

"Your Highness," he stammered, his eyes downcast. "Lord Skywalker left you a letter."

Anakin's name sent a jolt of anticipation and trepidation through you. You set down the book and rose to your feet, taking the letter with trembling hands.

My wife,

I have news from the front. The Scottish have launched a surprise attack on a village near the border. I need to lead my men and repel the invasion. But I cannot leave without ensuring your safety.

I have arranged for a contingent of my most trusted men to remain here and protect you in my absence. They will be stationed around the castle and will escort you wherever you need to go within the palace walls. Additionally, I have instructed the head of the household staff, Lady Fawcett, to assist you with any needs or concerns you may have during my time away.

I regret that I cannot be here to attend to you personally, but I assure you, your safety and well-being are of the utmost importance to me. I expect to return within a fortnight, barring any unforeseen delays or complications on the battlefield.

In my absence, I would ask that you remain within the castle walls and avoid drawing undue attention to yourself. The British court can be a treacherous place, and as my wife, you may face opposition and resentment from those who oppose our union.

I have also left instructions with the royal treasurer to ensure you have access to any funds you may require during my time away. If there is anything else you need, please do not hesitate to send a message to me through one of the soldiers I have assigned to your protection.

I know this is not the honeymoon either of us envisioned, but I assure you, my thoughts will be with you always. I will return to you in approximately three nights.  

Yours,

Anakin Skywalker

General of the British Army.

The days dragged on, each one blurring into the next as you wandered the castle's endless corridors, your footsteps echoing in the cavernous halls. Anakin's letter, once read, now felt cold and impersonal, a mere formality to satisfy some sense of duty rather than a heartfelt expression of devotion.

As the week mark approached, you found yourself retreating to the castle's art studio, a room filled with dusty canvases and faded paints. Here, amidst the splattered palettes and rough sketches, you discovered a solace you hadn't known before.

You threw yourself into your work with a fervor bordering on mania, the frustration and loneliness that had been building inside you pouring out onto the canvas. Vibrant strokes of blue and gold swirled together, each brushstroke a testament to the tempest raging within your heart.

Days turned to weeks, and the paintings began to pile up around you - landscapes of the French countryside, portraits of imaginary figures, and abstract interpretations of the emotions you couldn't voice. The servants whispered amongst themselves, marveling at the princess's talent and the raw, almost desperate passion in each piece.

Yet even as you lost yourself in the throes of creation, a part of you remained acutely aware of the emptiness that had taken up residence in your chest. The ache of Anakin's absence was a constant companion, a dull throb that refused to dissipate.

You longed for his touch, for the warmth of his hand in yours or the strength of his arms around you. But as the days stretched on without a word from him, you began to wonder if you had imagined the connection between you. Perhaps it had been nothing more than a fleeting moment of passion, a dream that had slipped away like mist in the morning light.

The frustration grew with each passing day, a bitter taste on your tongue that no amount of paint could sweeten. You had married a stranger, a man who seemed more at home on the battlefield than in the castle with his new bride. The realization stung, a painful reminder of the gulf that yawned between you.

Late one evening, as you stood back to admire your latest work - a swirling tempest of emotion rendered in shades of black and crimson - you heard a soft knock at the door. Startled, you turned to see one of Anakin's soldiers standing nervously in the doorway.

The soldier stood at attention, his eyes downcast as he delivered his message. "Your Highness, I am to escort you to the small gathering of ladies in the rose garden."

With a sigh, you set down your palette and followed the soldier through the winding corridors of the castle. As you approached the rose garden, the tinkling laughter of the ladies reached your ears, a discordant sound that set your teeth on edge.

You entered the garden, the heady scent of roses thick in the air. The ladies, a gaggle of British nobles, fell silent as you approached. They regarded you with a mix of disdain and curiosity, their eyes raking over your paint-stained dress with disapproval.

You took a seat on a wrought-iron bench, feeling the weight of their stares and the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. The conversation continued in hushed tones, but you caught snippets of rumblings about French unrest and discontent with the treaty.

"...heard whispers of rebellion in the countryside..."

"...the common folk grow weary of British rule..."

"...perhaps it is time we remind the French of their place..."

The words sent a chill down your spine, and you hugged your arms around yourself, feeling suddenly exposed and vulnerable.

As the gathering drew to a close, you excused yourself, eager to retreat to the solitude of your chambers. You bid the ladies goodnight, but your words fell on deaf ears as they continued their hushed conversations, oblivious to your presence.

The castle halls were quiet that evening, the distant sounds of servants preparing for supper muffled by the thick stone walls. You had wandered further than usual in search of solace, your thoughts preoccupied with Anakin's sudden departure and the icy distance that lingered between you. It was this distraction that led you down an unfamiliar corridor near the great library—one you rarely visited.

As you turned the corner, the low murmur of voices caught your attention. Instinctively, you pressed yourself against the cool stone wall, heart quickening. Voices carried easily through the narrow passageway, and you strained to make out the conversation.

"You can't keep delaying," came a sharp, familiar tone. It was your father’s emissary, Gaius. His voice carried the edge of urgency, as though chastising his companion. "The treaty is nothing more than a formality. It served its purpose—peace to distract the British, but the real work must begin."

"I understand, but you underestimate the General," a second voice replied, smooth and measured. You recognized Count Aulbry's distinctive cadence— the French nobles who had attended your wedding. "Skywalker is no fool. He’ll sense something is amiss before long. And the princess..." Aulbry let the word linger, almost derisively.

"The princess is irrelevant," Gaius interrupted impatiently. "She was always a pawn in the larger game, and she’s played her part. Her marriage softened the General enough to open the gates. We’ve bought time, and that’s all we needed."

A cold chill ran down your spine. They were speaking of you—of your marriage. A pawn? Softened the General? You pressed your hand against the wall to steady yourself, swallowing the lump rising in your throat.

"But what of the King ? The Scottish ?" Aulbry asked, his voice low now, almost conspiratorial. "He’ll have to act soon, or it will be too late to reclaim what is ours."

Your father's name was not spoken aloud, but it didn’t need to be. You knew in that moment that the treaty—your marriage—was not the olive branch you had believed. It was a strategy, a ruse.

"He’ll act," Gaius said, his voice cold with certainty. "And when he does, Skywalker won’t see it coming. The King and his allies knows where their loyalties lie, as do we."

A heavy silence followed, broken only by the sound of retreating footsteps. You remained pressed against the wall, your breath shallow, every word reverberating in your mind. The betrayal was clear, but the full scope of their plan was not. Your father’s emissary and Count Aulbry were working together, and worse, it seemed your father himself might be complicit.

The castle gates creaked open as the thunder of hooves filled the courtyard. You stood atop the stone steps, clutching the edges of your shawl against the biting wind, your heart racing with a mixture of relief and apprehension. Anakin had returned. The news had come just moments ago—a British victory against the Scots. Yet whispers of injuries had reached the castle before him, carried by grim-faced soldiers.

When he rode through the gates, you felt your breath catch. Anakin sat slouched in the saddle, his usually rigid posture softened by pain. His tunic was darkened with blood near his shoulder, the shaft of an arrow protruding from his back. Dirt and sweat streaked his face, but his piercing blue eyes were sharp as ever, scanning the courtyard with the wariness of a man who never let his guard down.

"Bring a medic," you called to the nearest servant, your voice firm despite the growing knot in your chest. Without waiting for a reply, you descended the steps quickly, your skirts swishing against the cold stone.

Anakin dismounted slowly, his movements deliberate but betraying the agony he must have been feeling. His jaw clenched tightly, and he ignored the outstretched hands of the knights who came to steady him. His gaze flicked to you briefly as you approached, and though his expression remained stoic, you could see the faintest flicker of something softer in his eyes—relief, perhaps, or simply acknowledgment.

"You should be resting," you said softly, stepping closer.

"I'm fine," he replied, his voice rough. He moved past you toward the castle, but his steps faltered. Instinctively, you reached out to steady him, your hand brushing his arm.

"You're not fine," you insisted, your voice firmer now. "Let me help."

He stopped, his back to you, tension radiating from his frame. For a moment, you thought he might refuse outright. But then he nodded, almost imperceptibly, and allowed you to guide him inside.

From the Lays of General Anakin Skywalker, XIII century

“Pools of depth where truths reside,

The storm within I cannot hide.

No blade, no shield could pierce me through,

But her gaze undoes what war can’t do."

In the warmth of his chambers, you worked quickly, dismissing the servants to care for him yourself. He sat on the edge of the bed, his armor discarded in a heap on the floor. The sight of his injury was worse than you’d expected—the arrowhead was embedded deeply, the skin around it swollen and angry.

"You shouldn’t have ridden all this way with this still in you," you murmured, gathering the supplies from the table.

"I’ve had worse," he replied tersely, though his voice lacked its usual sharpness. He avoided your gaze, his focus fixed on the floor.

You said nothing, dipping a cloth into a basin of warm water and beginning to clean the blood around the wound. He flinched slightly at the touch but didn’t pull away.

"Hold still," you said gently.

His lips pressed into a thin line, but he obeyed, his breathing shallow as you worked. You couldn’t help but notice how tightly wound he was, his body tense even in his exhaustion. Yet beneath that cold exterior, you felt a strange tenderness—a sense of trust he didn’t know how to express.

When you began cutting away the remnants of his tunic to access the wound better, he finally broke the silence. "You shouldn’t be doing this."

"I’m your wife," you said simply, glancing up at him. "Who else should care for you?"

He didn’t respond, his jaw tightening again. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the way he seemed to battle his own instincts—to push you away, to protect himself.

"You don’t have to bear everything alone, you know," you added softly, focusing on the arrow. "Even generals need someone to lean on."

The words hung in the air, met with silence. But when you looked up again, you found his gaze on you, and for the briefest moment, the walls he kept so carefully constructed seemed to crack. There was something unspoken in his eyes—gratitude, perhaps, or respect.

"It’ll hurt," you warned, gripping the shaft of the arrow carefully.

"It already does," he muttered.

You worked quickly, pulling the arrow free in one swift motion. He hissed sharply, his fingers digging into the bedsheets, but he didn’t cry out. Blood welled up immediately, and you pressed a clean cloth to the wound, holding it firmly to staunch the bleeding.

"Almost done," you murmured.

He didn’t reply, his eyes closing briefly as you worked. When you finished cleaning and stitching the wound, you sat back with a sigh, your hands trembling slightly from the effort.

"There," you said, your voice softening. "It’s done."

He opened his eyes and looked at you, his expression unreadable. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded.

"Thank you," he said, his voice low and gruff.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make your heart ache. You knew he wasn’t used to this—to someone caring for him, to someone seeing the man beneath the armor. And though he didn’t say it, you could feel his respect for you growing, like a quiet ember in the cold.

"Rest," you told him, rising to your feet. "You’ll heal faster if you let yourself."

He didn’t argue, his gaze following you as you gathered the bloodied cloths and stepped toward the door. Just as you reached it, his voice stopped you.

"Stay."

It was a single word, spoken softly but with weight. You turned back to see him watching you, his defenses lowered just enough for you to see the man behind them.

You nodded and returned to his side, sitting quietly as he drifted into a fitful sleep. And though he didn’t reach for your hand, you stayed close, your presence a silent promise that he didn’t have to face his burdens alone.

From the Lays of General Anakin Skywalker, XIII century

Her touch is the breeze, her voice the stream,

A melody woven through my dream.

Yet when I reach, she fades from sight,

A phantom born of longing’s light.

The morning was heavy with fog, the sky a dull, oppressive gray. The castle bustled with preparations for Anakin’s departure, servants hurrying to pack his provisions and polish his armor. You stood near the hearth in the solar, wringing your hands as you listened to the muffled clamor from the courtyard below.

He would leave again, summoned back to the battlefield, back to the unending war that seemed to consume every fragment of his life. And once again, you would remain behind, alone in the echoing halls of this castle.

You turned toward the desk near the window, where a stack of parchment and a few books sat in neat disarray. Among them lay a small leather notebook, its cover smooth and worn from use. You had left it there days ago, a forgotten remnant of your attempts to sketch or write, your restless mind unable to find focus.

The door opened, and you turned to see Anakin stepping inside. He wore his traveling cloak, his broad shoulders stiff with the weight of command. His gaze swept over the room, landing briefly on you before shifting away.

“I leave within the hour,” he said, his voice flat, as if delivering a report rather than a goodbye.

You nodded, your chest tightening. “I see.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. He moved to the window, staring out at the courtyard below where his men were assembling. His presence filled the room, a storm contained within the man. You wanted to say something—to ask him to stay, to tell him to be careful—but the words lodged in your throat.

Instead, you stepped forward. “I’ll have the servants bring your things.”

“I’ve already seen to it,” he replied, his tone distant.

Silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. You turned back toward the desk, unsure of what else to say, and ran your fingers over the leather notebook.

“Is that yours?” he asked suddenly, his voice breaking the quiet.

You glanced over your shoulder, surprised. He was watching you now, his blue eyes sharp and curious.

“Yes,” you said softly. “I haven’t used it much. It’s… just for thoughts. Or sketches.”

He stepped closer, his gaze flicking to the notebook before returning to you. “You don’t mind if I take it?”

The question caught you off guard. “Of course not,” you said quickly, holding it out to him.

He took it from your hands, his fingers brushing yours briefly. The touch was fleeting, but it sent a ripple through the air between you. He studied the notebook for a moment, his expression unreadable, before tucking it into the satchel at his side.

“Thank you,” he said gruffly, his voice softer now.

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Be safe, Anakin.”

His gaze lingered on you, and for a moment, you thought he might say something more. But then he turned, the storm in him retreating behind the cold armor he always wore.

When he was gone, the solar felt emptier than ever.

The clatter of hooves and the creak of carriage wheels echoed through the courtyard as Anakin prepared to depart. You stood at the top of the stone steps, watching the controlled chaos below. Knights in polished armor mounted their horses, squires hurried to secure provisions, and the castle staff bustled with last-minute preparations.

Amidst the activity, something felt off—a subtle tension in the air that you couldn’t quite name. The nobles gathered near the gates, their expressions carefully composed, but their whispered exchanges carried an undercurrent of unease. You noticed Count Aulbry standing apart, his sharp eyes scanning the soldiers with a calculating gaze. Your father’s emissary, Gaius, was there as well, speaking in hushed tones to another courtier. Their conversation stopped abruptly when they caught you watching, their smiles too quick, too polished.

Your heart tightened. Something was amiss, though you couldn’t say what.

Anakin emerged from the castle, drawing your attention away from the murmurs. Clad in his black cloak and gleaming armor, he exuded an unshakable authority, even with the strain of war etched into his features. He strode to his horse with purpose, but there was no mistaking the stiffness in his shoulders, the weight he bore with every step.

He mounted his horse with practiced ease, turning briefly to glance at you. His expression was unreadable, the familiar walls firmly in place. You took a step forward, wanting to say something—anything—but the words caught in your throat.

“Take care of yourself,” you managed finally, your voice soft.

His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, and though his face remained stoic, there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something unspoken. He nodded once, then spurred his horse forward.

You stood frozen on the steps as the company filed out through the gates, the sound of hoofbeats fading into the distance. The nobles watched the procession with guarded expressions, their whispers resuming the moment Anakin was out of sight. The unease in your chest grew, but you pushed it aside, unwilling to let it take root.

Later, the castle felt unbearably quiet, the emptiness pressing down on you. Restless, you retreated to your chambers and pulled out your paints, hoping to find solace in the familiar rhythm of brushstrokes. You set up your easel near the window, where the light spilled across the stone floor, and began to paint.

Anakin’s image filled the canvas—or it started to. You outlined the broad sweep of his shoulders clad in armor, the sharp angles of his face illuminated by the faint glow of the morning sun. Your brush moved with care, attempting to capture the power in his posture, the way his cloak billowed in the wind as he rode away.

But as the hours passed, your strokes faltered. The lines blurred; details escaped you. How could you fully capture the depths of a man who revealed so little of himself? His eyes, always so distant, defied your efforts to bring them to life. Frustrated, you set the brush down and studied the incomplete image.

His figure was there, half-formed and waiting, as though suspended in time. The armor gleamed, but the face remained unfinished—a shadow of the man he was, elusive and untouchable.

You sighed, running your fingers lightly over the edge of the canvas. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t complete. And perhaps it wouldn’t be until he returned, until you could see him again and fill in the missing pieces.

For now, it would remain unfinished, just as so much between you did.

As the hours of his journey stretched into days, Anakin rode under the steel-gray skies, the leather notebook tucked securely in his pack. When the campfires burned low at night and the world grew quiet, he would open it, the blank pages staring back at him like a challenge.

His hands, so used to wielding a sword or penning commands, hesitated over the delicate task of crafting words not for strategy, but for her. Yet as the nights wore on, the words began to flow—hesitant at first, then with more certainty.

He wrote of her eyes, of the way they softened when she spoke. He wrote of the fleeting moments of her laughter, of the way her presence lingered like a melody long after she left a room.

The words he wrote were not for her to read, not yet. They were for himself, a small rebellion against the man the world demanded he be.

And as he closed the notebook each night, he wondered if she would ever truly know the depths of what he could not say.

From the Lays of General Anakin Skywalker, XIII century

"Amid the clash of steel and cries of war, I dream of hands that harm no more. The world is cruel, but she is kind, A gentle balm to a soldier’s mind."

[rxreid]

hi!!! would you be up for writing a soft dom bellamy x best friend reader fic/oneshot? maybe he gets jealous when he sees other guys flirting/talking about y/n in a sexual way. and bellamy being protective, pulled reader away and confesses his love to her?

realms of friendship - b.b

also requested: “hi gurll i didn’t know 100 writers were still active you’re feeding me bc no one writes bellamy smut anymore 😞 i just need porn with a plot please surprise me and keep em comin !” + “hi this is my first time asking but can u plsss write blake smut. like literally anything im so deprived of him im begging.”

warnings: SMUT! unprotected p in v, that’s pretty much it. brief mention of a gun?? but not kinky. technically takes place in s3 of the 100.

word count: 5.1k

characterisation: reader is described as AFAB and uses she/her pronouns & feminine terms.

comments: here u go anons!! i hope this is okay…it’s far from the best thing i’ve written, but i wanted to write a bellamy fic whilst i was sure i had some free time. it might be a little ooc, only because i’m not super used to writing for him yet. nevertheless, feel free to send in more request for blurbs/hcs/fics! the first two are more likely to be answered quickly <3. if you don’t wanna read the smut, there’s a divider before it gets spicy :)

“I just think if you popped a couple of buttons open, maybe let your hair loose once in a while, the guys in camp would be all over you,” Jasper shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans into the backseat of the rover, his lips carrying that same ‘carefree’ smirk he’s had since getting out of Mount Weather.

Murphy snorts, sitting opposite Jasper in the trunk. “As if,” he snickers, his nose crinkling in amusement. “The guys in camp are already all over her, she’s just too frigid to give them a try, ain’t that right?” he grins, leaning forward to rest his hands on the leather of her seat, placing his chin on the edge as he peeks into the front. She internally grimaces at his proximity, twisting in her spot to lean against the window, her brows slightly furrowed at the two boys.

“Shut up,” she grumbles quietly, mirroring Jasper’s position and folding her arms, the expression on her face betraying her distaste for the topic of conversation. She's aware that the two boys are purposely trying to rile her up, but that doesn’t make them any easier to deal with when they get like this.

In the backseat, Jasper kicks his feet up, somehow managing to stay upright despite the bumps in the track as Bellamy roughly drives the four of them back to camp. “Yeah, right. Like who? You?” he muses teasingly, raising a brow at Murphy, as if daring him to take their game further.

“Hell yeah, me,” Murphy retorts cockily, still flashing his borderline predatory grin to her. “With a face that pretty and an ass like that, I can’t understand why she’s not been snatched up,” he smirks, his words complimentary in his own mind yet being perceived entirely different by the recipient. He keeps his gaze on her as he talks to Jasper, briefly glancing over at Bellamy in the driver's seat. The older boy’s nose is turned up in disgust as he listens to the conversation, the veins in his hands becoming more prominent from his grip on the steering wheel.

She scrunches her nose up too, her cheeks heating up at Murphy’s words, feeling a wave of embarrassment pass through her body. She doesn’t give him the satisfaction of a reply, and he takes it upon himself to lean further over her seat, his chest fully pressed against the back. “What? Not even a thank you?” he taunts, his grin getting wider at the way she squirms under his stare. “Eh, whatever. You look better with your mouth shut. Plus, I can think of other ways to keep it occupied,” he snickers crudely, lifting his arm as he begins to reach his hand around her chair.

In an instant, Bellamy’s fingers are clasping Murphy’s wrist, his grip too tight to pass as merely playful. He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, his voice stern as he pushes him into the back of the rover once more. “Back off, Murphy, you don’t need to be so close to her,” he mutters gruffly, his lips slightly pursed into a scowl.

A huff escapes Murphy’s lips as he’s roughly pushed back, thudding into the seat opposite Jasper again, who’s tickled by the entire situation. “Ow. Jeez, Blake, loosen up a little. She knows I’m just fuckin’ with her,” he grumbles, his thumb and pointer finger wrapping around his wrist to soothe the ache of Bellamy’s previous grip. “She’s dead weight, anyway. Dunno why we bring her on these trips if we can’t have some fun with her.”

Bellamy glares at Murphy through the windscreen mirror, his protectiveness for the girl beside him flaring up. He knows he should probably tone it down to avoid suspicion of any deeper feelings for his best friend, but he can’t let her be mercilessly teased when he knows she won't stand up for herself. Plus, the insinuation of her friends bringing her on supply runs purely to sleep with her makes his skin crawl. “Stop being a fucking perv,” he snaps, his grip on the wheel tightening slightly as his hand returns to it.

Murphy furrows his brows, clearly displeased with Bellamy’s interruption of his fun. “I’m not bein’ a perv,” he retorts, his voice laced with offence, “I’m just lettin’ the lady know that she’s got options if she wants it,” he shrugs, rolling his eyes over dramatically, his ego bruised.

“Yeah, well, she doesn’t want that, and she sure as hell doesn’t want you,” Bellamy grits, pressing down on the gas a little harsher, his mood souring at the thought of spending any longer in the vehicle whilst Murphy shamelessly flirts with his friend. friend.

“Now shut up for the rest of the drive or I’m throwing you out and you’re walking back to camp. Both of you.”

Her eyes go slightly wide at Bellamy’s defence, raising her brows in surprise. She looks back at Jasper and Murphy, who are both staring at her incredulously, and shrugs her shoulders. The rest of the short drive is spent in silence, with nobody wanting to get onto Bellamy’s bad side again. Her gaze remains focused on the landscape flying by, thoughts wandering to the boy beside her, as they most often do.

Upon the group’s return to Arkadia, Bellamy pulls into the garage, the roaring of the rover dying in an instant as he shuts it off. “Out,” he orders gruffly, earning a grumble from both Murphy and Jasper as they hop out of the vehicle, slamming the doors behind them before heading away from the garage. She follows suit, watching Bellamy climb out too, and she instinctively starts heading away, not wanting to catch the brunt of his lingering moodiness.

“Not you.”

She stops in her tracks as his words echo through the empty garage, slowly turning around to face him. “Not…me?” she questions, her brows arched. She’s half expecting him to tell her she’s forgotten something, or that she needs to help him unload the rover, but the way his expression has softened tenfold from just minutes ago makes her slightly uneasy.

“Not you,” he repeats, his voice softer, taking a few steps towards her. “What was all that about? Why were you just sitting there letting Jasper and Murphy talk about you like that?”

A dry chuckle escapes her lips, and she fights the urge to roll her eyes at the memory. “Used to it by now,” she shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Murphy’s been that way since the dawn of time, and Jasper’s new emo phase has him acting like a dick 24/7. It’s whatever,” she huffs, puckering her lips as she stands awkwardly, her gaze shifting around.

“It’s just not ‘whatever’ though, is it?” he retorts sarcastically, narrowing his eyes at her as he steps closer once more. “You shouldn’t let them believe they can talk to you like that, it’ll just get worse if they think they can get away with it. I know what guys are like,” he says, the idea of her being so compliant with being objectified stirring a flame deep in his heart, his instincts screaming at him to shield her from such taunts.

She snorts at his sass, amused by how insistent he’s getting. “I really don’t care about what they have to say, Blake,” she says, shaking her head slightly and shrugging her shoulders. She’s speaking truthfully - the teasing she endures from other boys in camp is practically an everyday occurrence by now.

“Bellamy,” he corrects.

“What?”

“You’re my best friend. It’s Bellamy to you, not Blake. You know I don’t like that.”

“Okay…” she says, dragging her syllables out briefly. “I don’t really care, Bellamy,” she repeats.

“I do,” he shrugs simply, placing his hands onto his hips. She, too, narrows her eyes at that, scanning his features from any ulterior motive to his words. His lips are pressed into a thin line, his brows slightly furrowed as usual, but his eyes carry a hint of concern, and she’s trying to figure out why without straight up asking.

After a few seconds, she sighs softly, tilting her head backwards as she lets out a groan, a little embarrassed by the entire situation. She lets her head fall straight again, looking over at him. “Bell, I appreciate it, I really do, but I don’t want you barking at your friends for me. I can handle it.”

He chuckles at that, and she’s almost offended that the one thing to make him laugh is the thought of her defending herself. “Listen, you can tell me to back off, tell me whatever the hell you want, but you should know by now that I’m not the type of guy to stand by when you’re evidently uncomfortable, princess. If they pull that shit again when I’m around-,” he says, placing his hand on her shoulder and leaning down slightly, raising his brows, “-I’m gonna say something.”

“You’re really annoying,” she deadpans, her eyes still narrowed as he leans to be level with her.

“Not annoying, just protective of my friends,” he shrugs, his hand trailing down to lightly skim across her arm, stilling there. “And you happen to be my best one, so you get the brunt of it.”

Rolling her eyes, she lets out a huff, her gaze roaming the garage. “Gee, thanks, lucky me,” she grumbles, her brows softly furrowed together.

He hums, straightening up once more as he looks down at her. “Damn straight, lucky you,” he grins, a rare sight from the usual scowl adorning his lips. His gaze is downcast, a twinkle in his deep brown eyes always prominent when his focus is on the girl before him. “And stop that, you’ll get premature wrinkles,” he mutters teasingly, lifting his free hand to smooth out the dip between her brows with his thumb.

A faint blush dusts her cheeks as his thumb swipes across her skin, her gaze briefly dashing to his teeth poking behind his lips before back to his eyes. She’s used to him being somewhat touchy, always greeting her with a reunion hug or squeezing her shoulders when she needs reassurance, but something in the air feels different with him tonight.

“Why’d you really defend me against Jasper and Murphy, huh?” she murmurs, her eyes roaming his features skeptically.

He doesn’t answer her verbally, but his grin widens cheekily as he steps forward again, his thumb moving to swipe her jaw, silently signalling his next move.

“Don’t,” she mumbles, her eyes widening a smidge as she pieces together what he’s boldly getting at, her own mind running a thousand miles per hour. She finally uncrosses her arms, letting them fall slack at her sides, subtly opening herself up to him. If Bellamy Blake, her best friend, kisses her right here in this garage, she might just have to face a year's worth of pent up emotions, and she’s not sure she’s ready for that.

“Why not?” Bellamy whispers, his grin widening as he slowly leans in. At first he was teasing her, but the closer he gets, the more tempting it is to close the gap.

“It’ll change everything,” she retorts quietly, unable to stop herself from taking a peek at his plump lips, his cupids bow littered with stubble.

“No it won’t.”

“Liar.”

“We’ll see.”

With that, he leans in, closing the gap until his lips are ghosting over hers, their noses brushing together. He doesn’t take it any further, keeping their lips a mere few millimeters apart as he waits for her to make the final move, his own lips curved up in a smile so bright she thinks she might go blind.

She huffs at him, seeing what he’s playing at. “I hate you,” she grumbles, all prior thoughts ditching her brain as she presses her lips against his, feeling him chuckle into the kiss as they both close their eyes. He’s slightly chapped, but she hadn’t expected much different, so she’s not bothered. She has no room to complain when her best friend, likely the most sought after man in Arkadia, is kissing her so sweetly.

Sweetly doesn't last too long, his lips pressing against hers with more insistence as his hand gently squeezes her arm, his other cupping her cheek. He pokes his tongue out, swiping it across her bottom lip in a silent ask for entry to her mouth, wanting to deepen the kiss he’s so desperately been waiting for. When she keeps her lips firmly pressed together, he furrows his brows.

“Lemme in,” he mumbles against her lips, trying again with his tongue.

“No,” she retorts quietly, closing her lips up immediately to keep him out.

“Why not?” he groans gruffly, pressing his forehead against hers, a hint of a pout on his face.

She pulls back fully, her hands lingering in the air by his waist, not quite willing to place them yet. “Not until you tell me why you’re kissing me,” she whispers, her voice holding a vulnerability that wasn't there minutes ago.

Shaking his head in amusement, he drops his gaze briefly to quietly laugh at her question, before looking at her once more. “Are you seriously asking me that, princess?” he grins, his forehead creasing. “Why does anyone kiss another person?”

She looks up at him, her mind racing with possible answers. For love? For lust? For the hell of it? “I dunno,” she decides is the best answer, shrugging her shoulders.

“Are you really gonna make me say it?” he chuckles, his thumb moving to brush across her chin.

“Yeah. Say it,” she mutters.

Bellamy huffs, smirking at her obliviousness. “Okay, listen carefully, yeah? I…want to kiss you…because I like you, ‘kay? Romantically. R-O-M-A–”

She cuts him off with a smack to his chest at his sarcasm, her cheeks flaring up. “Yeah, yeah, okay, I get it!” she grumbles, letting her head fall down to his shoulder on instinct, wanting to shield herself from his teasing. His grin only widens as she hides her face from him, his hands going to her waist as he nudges his nose into her hair.

“Might even go as far as to say I love you,” he whispers, gently moving her hair out of his way to ghost his lips against her neck, his touch a lot softer than she ever would have anticipated.

“You don’t,” she retorts, lifting her head just an inch to open up her neck to him.

“I do,” a kiss to her pulse point.

“You don’t.”

“I do. Can’t stand hearing other guys talk about you like how they were earlier,” a kiss to her jaw.

“You don’t.”

“I do, princess, and you love me too,” a kiss just below her ear.

“I-” she cuts herself off with a groan, knowing she can’t in good conscience stand here and tell him she doesn’t love him.

Bellamy chuckles at her groan, tilting her head to make her look at him once more. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he mutters cockily. “You gonna let me in now?” he questions, his lips hovering above hers for the second time in a few minutes.

“Fine,” she scoffs.

The gap is closed once more in an instant as he presses his mouth to hers, wasting no time before slipping his tongue into her parted lips. He hums at the taste of her, living up to everything he’d ever imagined and more. Her world narrows down to just him and his mouth, her hands finally placing themselves on his waist, fingertips skimming beneath his tan shirt. She can’t help the small moan that passes her lips as he laps his tongue against hers, kissing her like a man starved.

He laughs against her lips again as she moans, hooking his hands under her thighs and hoisting her up, directing her to wrap her legs around his waist. She does so without hesitation, though she’s slightly stumped by his haste.

“Eager, much?” she mutters as she pulls away, the string of saliva between their mouths breaking as she talks.

A grin breaks onto his lips once more, and he looks over her shoulder as he quickly navigates out of the garage and down the hall, heading for his quarters. “You want me to slow down? You wanna drag this out any longer than we already have?” he grunts out, barely even straining under her weight in his arms as he walks through the remnants of the ark.

“No,” she replies quietly, tucking her head into the crook of his neck.

“Exactly.”

He finds his quarters relatively quickly, even with his vision slightly impaired by her hair. Nudging the door open, he takes them both into the room, ensuring it’s closed behind him before he gently lays her down against the pillows, his frame hovering above hers. She’s been in his quarters many times - they usually hang out in one another’s rooms - but she’s never been beneath him, and she has definitely never felt his growing arousal against the junction between her thighs. Yet, here she is. There’s a first for everything.

She can’t tear her gaze away when he sits up on his knees, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it somewhere in his room. She squeals as he roughly tugs her boots from her feet, followed by his own, their shoes additionally being tossed aside. Her eyes roam his now bare chest, and she audibly gulps. It’s not like she hasn’t seen him bare chested before, of course she has, but never this close, and never with the knowledge of what he’s about to do to her.

“Rude to stare,” he mutters, pressing himself between her legs as he dips his head to her neck, starting off with light, gentle kisses.

She rolls her eyes at that, her knees nudging his sides and her arms wrapping around his shoulders. “Well, apparently we’re more than friends now, so I think I’m allowed to,” she mumbles, tilting her neck to grant him better access.

A chuckle escapes him, and he can’t argue with it. “Fair enough,” he murmurs against her skin, biting down softly on her flesh before letting go. “Can’t tell you how many times you were here in my room,” he mumbles, rolling his hips slowly against hers. “Sittin’ pretty on my bed… or at my desk,” he grunts, his hands holding her waist, slipping beneath her shirt. “And I couldn’t stop imagining having you like this.”

At the roll of his hips she lets out a small gasp, her eyes fluttering closed. Her hand worms into his hair, tugging on his curls as he continues his assault on her neck. “And yet you called Murphy a perv?” she teases breathlessly, her head dropping back against his pillow.

He growls at the mention of Murphy, pulling away from the love bite he’d been curating to look down at her. “Who’s the one who actually got the girl, huh? Yeah. Me. Fuck him, the little freak,” he grumbles, his fingers tugging on the hem of her shirt. “Lift,” he instructs quietly, his tone immediately changing to a more delicate one with her.

She obliges, reaching to grab the hem of her shirt, sitting up slightly and lifting it over her head, tossing it into the forming pile. She reaches behind her back, fumbling with the clasp of her bra before finally getting it undone, leaving it covering her breasts.

He narrows her eyes at her as she teases him, not letting it last long before he grabs her bra straps, carefully tugging them down until she’s fully exposed, her bra joining the pile.

“Fuck,” he whispers under his breath, his hands moving to knead her chest without hesitation, and he feels any remnants of blood running straight to his crotch. “Way better than I imagined. Perfect, even,” he mutters, hastily leaning his head down to capture one of her buds in his mouth, swirling his tongue as he groans around her.

Giggling at his haste, she keeps both hands tangled in his hair, her back arching slightly towards his mouth. “Mm, baby, you gonna stay there forever?” she breathlessly murmurs with a grin, watching as he spends at least a few minutes lavishing at her chest.

“God, I could get used to you calling me that,” Bellamy groans, finally letting his mouth leave her chest. “I’m coming back to you two. Mark my words,” he mutters, giving her a final squeeze before he sits back on his haunches. He fumbles around with his toolbelt, mindlessly throwing it - along with the gun nestled in it - somewhere in his bedroom, before his hands begin to work at his zipper.

She looks up at him, biting her lip at the obvious tent in his cargos. She decides to occupy herself whilst he’s busy, undoing her own zipper and lifting her hips, wiggling out of her pants. They both finish undressing at the same time, gazing at one another with massive grins as they take in the sights.

“Shit, I can’t fucking wait to be inside of you, princess,” Bellamy blurts out, his curls loosely falling across his forehead as he leans over her again, his hands roaming her hips with intent.

Her lips part at his words, a little shocked, but she's not sure what else she was expecting him to say. “You can’t just say things like that,” she whispers breathlessly, grinning up at him as she pushes back his curls.

“Yeah? Why can’t I?” he mutters, catching her wrist in his hand and pressing a lingering kiss to her palm. He looks down at the space between them, the sight of her in just her panties sending him borderline insane. “Any- fuck, any other time I would usually love a little foreplay, but I’ve literally been waiting a year for this, and I don’t think I can wait another second,” he huffs with a grin, looking down at her for approval.

She nods in agreement, wrapping her hand around the back of his neck and tugging him down, sealing their lips together in another kiss. It’s much more desperate now, their shared hunger evident in the way their tongues bind together, a mess of pants and pent up longing. His fingers hook into the sides of her underwear, tapping her hips twice so she lifts them, before slowly pulling her panties down her legs, his lips never leaving hers.

Bellamy reaches his hand carefully between her legs, caressing her hip for a moment before finding the spot between her thighs, the tip of his middle finger sliding through her folds. He groans against her mouth, elated to be greeted by a slickness evidently just for him. “D’you always get this wet,” he mutters against her mouth, pressing sloppy kisses against her lips between his words.

She gasps quietly at the contact, shaking her head. She definitely is not usually this aroused, and she’s certain it’s because of how long her body has been waiting to feel this specific set of hands against her skin.

“Oh, yeah?” he grins cockily, moving his lips to her neck once more. “So this is all for me, princess? Just me?” he teases, his fingertip lightly caressing her now, teasingly moving around and avoiding where she needs him most.

“Yeah,” she whispers, her hand tugging on his hair, desperate for more contact. “Bell, I thought you said no foreplay,” she whines.

He beams at her whine, feeling a rush of pride at how quickly he can reduce her to a mess of desperation, even on their first time together. “Yeah, yeah, I got you,” he murmurs against her neck, reaching his hands down to free himself from the confines of his boxers. He groans as the cold air hits his skin, slowly positioning himself between her thighs. A quiet moan leaves her lips at the sensation of the head of his cock running between her folds before he slowly sheathes himself fully, having to bite down on her shoulder to muffle his moan.

She can’t help but whimper at the sheer size of him, her eyes widening as he eventually bottoms out. She hadn’t had the chance to actually see him before he conjoined their bodies, but god, she can feel every inch and crevice of him, pressed snugly against the wall of her cervix.

“Fucking hell, you’re tight,” he grunts, gritting his teeth as he pulls back from her neck, watching the space between their bodies. He slowly pulls all the way out, before pushing back in, his hands on her waist keeping her steady. “Couldn’t ever conjure up a dream this good,” he mutters, his voice strained.

A moan is all she can let out, her brows furrowed as he steadily begins to move. She’s on the same wavelength as him, trying to register that this is really happening, she’s not dreaming, and her best friend is definitely fucking her.

He moves to grip her thigh with one hand, pulling it up around his waist as he finds a rhythm, deepening himself within her. His strokes are steady and forceful, each one perfectly designed to elicit that sweet moan from her lips as he works, his thighs tensing with the exertion. “Mine,” he growls, punctuating his words with a particularly harsh thrust.

She whimpers sharply at his words, her legs curling around his waist, heels digging into his ass as he picks up the pace. She reaches for him again, one hand gripping his bicep as the other grasps his hair. “Oh my god,” she moans, her eyes slipping closed as her back arches up towards him. “Fuck, there’s perfect.”

Bellamy grins at her moans, a rush of satisfaction coursing through his veins. He angles his hips to replicate his previous thrust, driving into her from that same position. “Right here, princess?” he groans out, his other hand holding her hip with a bruising pressure, feeling her clench around him. “Oh, yeah, you liked that, huh? Lookin’ so gorgeous beneath me, fucking perfect, every inch of you.”

The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, her moans gradually increasing in octave as he learns his way around her body, figuring out what works best for her. His cock slides in and out with ease, twitching within her as his tip smacks against her womb, letting him know just how deep he is. She can barely think straight, her mind a whirlwind of Bellamy, Bellamy, Bellamy. Her eyes open once more, instantly met with his own warm brown ones looking back at her, his gaze unwavering as he studies her expression, committing every movement of her face to memory. He grins wolfishly at her as she looks at him, driving his hips into her with a newfound force, desperate to see her face contort with a release.

Unexpectedly, he sits back on his calves, bringing her with him. His hand moves to her lower back, looking up at her as he quickly encourages her to move with him. “There you go, princess,” he mutters, one hand holding her hip to guide her. She obeys, of course, her nails digging into his shoulder blades, imprinting crescent moons into his skin as she moves her hips on top of him, whining loudly whilst he drives up into her, meeting every thrust she makes. “Good girl, fuck, so pretty like this.”

The moan that escapes her is borderline deafening as he praises her, her head dropping into the crook of his neck. Her body moves sensually against his, her breasts bouncing against his cheeks with every movement she makes. He presses a kiss against the valley of her breasts, grunting as he feels the coil in his stomach tightening. “I love you,” he mutters against her skin, his tongue darting out to taste her. “So fucking much. Should’ve done this so long ago, baby, god, should’ve done this back at the dropship,” he moans, twitching inside of her as his release rapidly approaches.

She whimpers relentlessly against his neck, her hand bunching up his hair so tightly she’s worried she might rip it out. She would respond if she could, but she’s too focused on the pleasure he’s giving her, feeling drunk on every jolt of his cock within her.

Bellamy whines a little at the grip on his hair, his head tilting back as he uses all of his strength to pound up into her. He keeps one hand on her lower back, the other reaching down to find her clit, rubbing tight circles against her, needing to feel her come around him. “So close, princess,” he gasps, his free hand moving down to grip at her ass, kneading it between her fingers. “So fucking close. Gonna come and make you mine for good, yeah? Nobody’s gonna say shit about you anymore,” he moans, his head still thrown back.

Nodding rapidly, she pulls back too, her eyes roaming his exposed neck as she continues moving, despite the ache in her thighs. The sight of his Adam's apple bobbing, the small stubble gracing his chin and mouth, the way his lips are parted, it’s all too much. His tongue darts out to lick his upper lip, swiping across the scar there, and she can’t take much more, tugging his hair to smash her lips against his yet again.

He groans against her mouth, unable to keep himself upright as he falls fully against the bed, his back hitting the mattress. From here, he can angle his hips to drive up into her at a brutal force, her ass smacking against his thighs with every thrust. He can feel her walls tightening around him, knowing he’s just as close as she is.

“Come with me, princess. Let me make you feel good,” he whispers against her lips, her clit dragging against his pelvis with every harsh pound he delivers to her.

It's not long before he’s thrusting in harshly one final time, coming with a loud grunt of her name and spilling deep into her womb, painting her as his.

His orgasm spurs on her own, her body convulsing around him as she comes, his tongue swallowing her moans, along with a muffled screech of his name. She pants heavily, pulling away from his mouth and collapsing against him, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. “Holy fucking shit,” she whispers, pressing a soft kiss to his tanned skin.

He huffs out a laugh, his pupils wide with bliss, wrapping his arms around her as she collapses. “Yeah, holy fucking shit,” he repeats, his hand slowly running up and down her back, trying to soothe her trembling body. “You okay?” he whispers, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Was that okay?”

She grins against his chest, her eyes closing and her body relaxing. “That was more than okay,” she whispers, slowly lifting her hips so he slips out of her, softening now, the both of them able to get more comfortable. “You’re like…way better than I imagined,” she teases.

“Oh, you thought I’d be bad, huh? I don’t have a reputation for nothing,” he smirks, sitting up with her in his arms and shuffling them around so they're pressed against the pillows, her head on his chest. the slight sheen of sweat over the planes of his muscles isn’t a bother, an overwhelming sense of comfort washing over her.

“Mm, actually, you were totally shit,” she teases, snuggling closer to him, feeling the exhaustion begin to settle in.

“Liar,” he grins.

“We’ll see,” she mutters tiredly, echoing their previous words. “But, for the record, I love you, too.”

congrats if u made it this far <3 ty for reading i promise they’ll get better 😔

[youronebraincell]

Eat your heart out

Sofia Gigante x Fem!reader

Warnings: established relationship, romantic fluff, mild smut, kinda short and sweet

Word count: 1200

Sofia can’t sleep. You set out to change that.

You wake up around five in the morning, your phone reading 5:07 when you grab it from the nightstand and narrow your eyes at the lit screen.

You groan and turn to face your girlfriend, only to find her absent, her side of the bed cold and empty.

The smell of freshly baked goods fills your nostrils.

You groan again before getting out of bed in nothing but an oversized tee and panties and following the scent of sweet heaven that leads you to the kitchen. You cross your arms over your chest and lean against the entryway as you watch Sofia pull a baking tray of something out of the oven and put it on the counter. She pulls the mittens off with her teeth and sets them aside. She grabs a sieve with powdered sugar and hits it gently to scatter it over the various croissants laid out in front of her that are on the opposite side of the counter.

“Are you just gonna stand there, honey?” Sofia questions without taking her eyes off the croissants.

You push yourself off the entryway and walk towards her. “Any reason why you’re baking at five in the goddamn morning in nothing but a dirty t-shirt and boxer shorts?” You wrap your arms around her waist from behind, your chin coming to rest on her shoulder. “Not that I’m complaining. Well, only about that first part. The rest is more than tolerable”

“Couldn’t sleep” Sofia says, her eyes still trained on the damn croissants. “You mentioned you’ve been craving croissants so I thought I’d make them for you while my insomnia got the better of me”

You slide your hands under her shirt, embracing the warmth of her body against your palm. You like how Sofia doesn’t mind the cold of your skin.

“Thought you might like something savory too so I also baked a shitload of fucking quiche muffins because apparently that’s a fucking thing”

“Why are you raising your voice?” You ask in an even tone that doesn’t betray a hint of emotion.

Sofia puts the sieve down. She grips the edge of the counter as she takes a breath. Then another. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just..” She pauses to focus on her breathing. “With everything going on with that dickless traitor Oz and the Triad, it’s kinda hard for me to focus on anything else”

“Gee, thanks”

“Anything other than you” Sofia adds before turning around to face you. She cups your jaw with her hand, her other settling on your hip. “I swear, you’re the only saving grace in this whole situation, Y/N”

You hum, taking in the dark circles under her eyes. The pads of your thumbs trace them. “When was the last time you had a good night’s sleep?”

Sofia averts her gaze, her eyes downcast.

“Jesus, Sof. How are you still standing?”

“With a little help from the best energy drinks money can buy. That and a lotta rage”

You huff a laugh. “Don’t be cute. I told you to take care of yourself. Or at least let me do it for you”

“I’m fine”

“No, you’re not. You need to get some sleep”

An imaginary lightbulb lights up above your head.

You grin. “And I know just the right way to help”

You hop onto the counter.

Sofia raises a brow. Her eyes drift to the space between your thighs when you part your legs, revealing the lace panties she got you for your birthday. Her eyes don’t leave them as you slowly take them off and toss them on the floor.

You cross your legs.

“You always say you get drunk off me” You playfully tilt your head as you stare at her. “So maybe I can help you get that sleep you so desperately need”

“Your solution for my insomnia is for me to eat you out? Is that it?” Still, Sofia walks over to you. Her hands grips your waist. “If you wanted me to fuck you, you could’ve just asked, baby”

“Right now, I’m not asking”

The corner of your girlfriend’s mouth tugs upwards at your low, demanding tone. “Yes, ma’am”

Sofia eats you out for what feels like hours.

Her tongue darts and swirls, painting delicate patterns over your clit. You're already lost in the sea of pleasure, your breaths coming in gasps and moans. Each touch feels like a spark, igniting a fire deep within you. Your body arches off the counter, muscles taut as you chase the next wave of ecstasy. Sofia’s eyes are closed, lost in her own world, but her mouth is all focus. She's a maestro playing the most sensitive of instruments, and you're the music that fills the room.

Your legs tremble uncontrollably. You grip the edge of the counter, your knuckles whitening. The scent of your arousal fills the air, mingling with the faint smell of baked goods and sweat from your exertion. You've had so many orgasms, you've lost count, but she doesn't stop. Each stroke of her tongue sends you spiraling closer to the edge, and yet she pulls back, just enough to keep you there, teetering. It’s what you love about her.

You feel the tension building, your thighs quivering around her head. Your heart races, your pulse thundering in your ears. She senses your desperation and doubles down, her tongue relentless, her hands gripping your thighs. The pressure builds, a crescendo of sensation that you know will shatter you into a million pieces. You're so close, so close, you can almost taste it.

And then she does something different, a flick of her tongue, a change in rhythm. It sends you over the edge, your body convulsing as you scream out your release. But even as your climax washes over you, she doesn't let up. She continues, driving you into a realm of overstimulation, where pleasure meets pain and you're not sure if you can handle it. Yet, you find yourself begging for more, your voice hoarse from the cries that have escaped your lips. Her eyes open, meeting yours, and she smiles, knowing she has you exactly where she wants you.

But even Sofia has her limits.

By the time she’s decided that she’s done with you, she looks ready to hit the bed. You look at her as you try to catch your breath, your chest heaving.

Sofia smiles and cups your face before kissing you, passionately. “Thank you, bella” She says after breaking the kiss. “This is exactly what I needed”

“Glad I could be of service to ya”

“Are you coming to bed?”

You shake your head as you hop off the counter and grab your panties. “I’m gonna take a shower”

Sofia walks away from you. “Okay”

“Sleep tight!”

She shoots you a sleepy thumbs up without turning around before disappearing from your sight.

Just as you told her, you brush your teeth and take a shower then get dressed in something nice and comfy since you have no plans to leave the house.

You sit cross-legged on the couch, watching some new medical sitcom while eating the delicious croissants and quiche your girlfriend made for you.

[flopsxii]

tokyo revengers boys with their crush (aka you! <3) part two!

feat. shiba hakkai, sano shinichiro, kurokawa izana, sanzu haruchiyo, kakucho, haitani ran, haitani rindou && ryusei satou

note: part two as promised! ;P enjoyyyy mwah

hakkai shiba

ꪆৎ hakkai is shy generally around people (especially pretty people), that’s a known fact. i think the easiest way for hakkai to gain an emotional attraction to someone is if he sees them often. so most likely a classmate he sees in passing, his friends sibling or yuzuha’s close friend.

ꪆৎ he would probably start gaining feelings if you persevered with trying to have a conversation with him! even more so if you gush over him and help him clean up his wounds. oh! and he also loves a compliment here and there regarding his outfits or appearance.

ꪆৎ he’d be very shy around you but would make the effort to talk to you and spend time with you nonetheless! he’d push his feelings of anxiety away as much as he can, he just can’t help it; he can’t pass up an opportunity to spend time with you.

ꪆৎ he gushes about you to mitsuya all the time! any small interaction you may share, mitsuya has heard all about it. if hakkai needs advise about anything in regards to you, his good friend is always there to help and lend an ear if he just wants to rant about how amazing you are!

ꪆৎ also is the type to have dreams about all the stuff he wishes he could say to you but feels too shy to do so. such as finally telling you about his feelings… about how special he thinks you are… how he wants to take you on one million dates and have endless conversations! however, the last one would probably take a while due to his shyness.

ꪆৎ he’d probably come out of his shell a little more if he was around you plus either yuzuha or mitsuya. if you guys are alone, good luck getting him to stop blushing and stuttering.

ꪆৎ probably would confess if mitsuya advised him to as he always listens to him. or he’d probably persuade yuzuha to let it ‘slip’ to you and see what you do with that information.

sano shinichiro

ꪆৎ shinichiro is the type to have a crush on either a friend or someone he likes from afar. of course, if it’s the latter, he’ll do anything to get closer to you and know you better personally and not on a surface level.

ꪆৎ he thinks he’s good at flirting with you, key word, thinks. however, every single time you end up laughing until your chest hurts and shinichiro is red faced with embarrassment with his arms folded, facing away from you. he’s glad he can bring you joy, even if it’s at the expense of his ego.

ꪆৎ he’s the type to always offer you rides… and if he sees you when he’s riding his motorcycle, he’ll always stop and try and convince you! the determination in his voice each time he asks is what makes you say yes. “y/n-chan! wait up! i have my spare helmet… i can give you a ride home… huh? of course, it’s no problem! i want to!”

ꪆৎ he adores it when you spend time with his siblings, it just makes his heart grow even fonder. it makes him just want to sweep you off your feet and pepper your face with kisses! if only you knew how he really felt.

ꪆৎ he’s also always turning up at your house spontaneously, with no proper reason (not that you minded). he’s always bounding with joy when you invite him inside to either watch movies or just talk. any time he spends with you is precious.

ꪆৎ as for confessing, shinichiro thinks you already know he has feelings for you. so when he asks you to finally go out on a date, it’s a shock when you ask, “you like me, shinichiro-kun?” watch how his face distorts to shock, then confusion, followed by a sad face before ranting about how he’s showed you so many signs and you just had to know!

kurokawa izana

ꪆৎ he’s very flirty, that’s for sure. even on the first time that the two of you met, izana made sure you knew how beautiful he found you and how he just has to get to know you! you found the gesture cute, even though you had no idea how deep his feelings would begin to form for you.

ꪆৎ he spends a lot of time with you, visiting different places and seeing new things. he even introduced you to his older brother, shinichiro; which is arguably a very large step for him.

ꪆৎ he loves complimenting you, naturally he wants you to know how he views you in his eyes. however, he can’t help but get mad at you if you say anything negative about yourself. even more so when you ask why he’s so worked up seeing as you weren’t insulting him directly (which to him, you absolutely are).

ꪆৎ one of the most protective boys. izana has been looking after you without you knowing for a long, long time. that time someone shoved you in a store when you were accidentally in their way? they were forced to deal with izana even if they didn’t even remember shoving you in the first place. he never hurts them too much though, he knows you’d never approve of an act of violence in your defense.

ꪆৎ izana is also the type to assume that your friendship has naturally progressed and that there’s a perfect time to casually confess his feelings. “don’t act so shocked, y/n-chan. you knew i liked you this whole time.” he’d almost purr whilst you looked absolutely bamboozled.

sanzu haruchiyo

ꪆৎ he crushes on you from a far for a while until he finds unbearable going on without speaking to you and building a bond with you.

ꪆৎ sanzu is probably the only one who will confess his interest in you straight away, seeing no need to waste time. he’s a little disappointed when you remind him that you don’t know him well enough to begin a relationship. but he’s happy to settle to getting to know you until that day comes.

ꪆৎ he’s fiercely loyal to you, as anyone can guess from his loyalty to mikey. he’s formed an untreatable bond with you and he’s sure he’ll never feel the same way about someone again.

ꪆৎ you’re also one of the only people to embrace his scars and encourage him to finally let the mask go that mucho suggested he started wearing. you’d remind him that scars are natural and beautiful in their own way. i also think anytime you compliment them, his heart would grow two sizes just because of you!

ꪆৎ he’s always showing up unannounced, wether you’re studying, working or just chilling at home. he will be doing the most to try get your attention and he won’t stop until he gets it. even if it’s you telling him to shut up and wait till you’re free. (you know he means well.)

ꪆৎ much like izana, he’s very protective over you. if he hears about anyone disrespecting you and even worse, laying hands on you, be assured they’ll get a beating from sanzu. you’d never find out, of course. he has to maintain that pretty image he has in your eyes.

ꪆৎ there’s no need to confess, you already knew sanzu’s intentions from the beginning. your whole friendship was mainly you getting to know sanzu and him waiting patiently for the way you finally accept his confession from so long ago!

kakucho

ꪆৎ he doesn’t have a lot of people in his life, aside from izana. so i think it would be easy for kakucho to gain feelings for anyone who sticks by his side for a long period of time and actually shows they care about him.

ꪆৎ he’s always bright and lively around you too! there’s never been a time where kakucho has weighed down conversations with deep topics, he’s always interested in you. even if you do try and ask what’s going on in his subconscious, he’ll gently steer you away from that topic. he would rather not ruin the light of his life with unnecessary past trauma. but he appreciates your interest in him nonetheless.

ꪆৎ kakucho is also the type to only let you touch his scar and explain exactly how and why he got it. he’s not ashamed of it, per say, it’s more he doesn’t feel the need to talk about it with anyone else except you; in other words, he trusts you.

ꪆৎ he accompanies you wherever you go at the weekend, occasionally izana will join too. however, he prefers it when it’s just the two of you so he can actually share meaningful conversations.

ꪆৎ you would also need to confess. he has the silly mindset that if he confessed, it would ruin your friendship and he’d lose you entirely. that just happens to be the one thing he can’t lose, other than izana. besides you two, he has nothing left. however, if you were to confess, he would accept you straight away with a charming smile on his face.

haitani ran

ꪆৎ it’s very obvious that ran has a crush on you. it’s not very often that either of the haitani brothers approach people with any other intent than violence. so when they see the elder brother being so gentle and kind towards one specific person, it’s a blatant smack in the face that you’re the one who stole his heart.

ꪆৎ he’s also never once raised his voice at you or threatened you. this is also a key indicator that ran has deeper feelings than just platonic. he knows he’s being too subtle with his feelings but he can’t find it in himself to care.

ꪆৎ he always takes you shopping at the weekend, it’s a weekly ritual and if for any reason, he can’t be there, rindou will step in. speaking of the younger brother, he’ll try his very hardest to get the two of you to be friends. he’d love nothing more than to spend quality time with his two favourite people.

ꪆৎ aside from himself, you’re the only one allowed to touch and braid his hair. when you questioned the intimacy of such an act, ran will simply say that you’re the only one who does it right; even though he’s capable of braiding it himself.

ꪆৎ ever since getting involved with ran, your life has gone smoothly. no one disrespects you, in fact people are so nice to you now! ran adores that he can make you happy even without you knowing it.

ꪆৎ he’d confess when the times right. there’s not a specific reason why he can’t do it at the moment, he’s just waiting for that one time where it’s a ‘now or never’ kind of moment.

haitani rindou

ꪆৎ unlike his brother, it’s difficult to even know if rindou likes you as a friend. he’ll act like you’re a nuisance to him, grumbling responses to your excited questions. however, it’s ran that convinces you to persevere with your ‘friendship’ with his brother.

ꪆৎ even if he doesn’t say much, rindou enjoys being in your presence. if you ask him for help or for advise, on the outside he’s whining about ‘why it had to be him’ but on the inside, his stomach is doing somersaults because you chose him to rely on!

ꪆৎ he’s also the type to overhear you say you need something to your friends and then within the next 30 minutes, he’ll turn up with it and give it to you without a word or get someone else to deliver it for him. only because he knows he won’t be able to contain his raging blush when you thank him profusely. he learnt this from the first time he spontaneously brought you a can of sparkling lime that you were so called “dying for”.

ꪆৎ much like his brother, he takes care of you from afar. he doesn’t want to be overbearing or annoying so he’ll do these quiet acts of kindness without your knowledge. think of it as an act of love!

ꪆৎ he doesn’t confess. ran either forces him or ran flat out tells you how rindou feels when his little brother is right next to him. his face is priceless, he’s unsure wether to be anxious at your reaction or to kill his brother. it’s a funny sight to behold!

ryusei satou

ꪆৎ he asks you out almost every single day. he promises you the earth, the moon, the stars and hell, even the entire universe! however, you tell him no everytime, reminding him you only started speaking a week ago. he doesn’t let the rejections deter him, though.

ꪆৎ he’s definitely the type to give you his jacket or jumper if you as much as shiver once. if you try remove it, watch ryusei forcibly keep it on you, a pout on his lips as he whines that you’re offending him.

ꪆৎ he’s always pulling little pranks on you. only harmless ones though just to make you smile! especially if you’re having an awful day and need a little pick me up. he’s always right there trying to make you smile.

ꪆৎ he also tells everyone that you’re his partner, even if you aren’t. he’s humbled when you correct him, “we aren’t dating, ryusei.” he’d wink at you before adding, “yet.”

ꪆৎ he also always tries to share his lunch with you, doing fake airplane noises as he raises his chopsticks to your mouth. you accept because it’s easier to do that then have your ears go mute from his complaining. you always found it so endearing that he cares about your health so much!

ꪆৎ seeing as ryusei tells you about his feelings everyday, there’s no need for a grand confession. instead when ryusei once again tells strangers that you’re his partner, he awaits for rejection once again. until one day, you agree with a small smile before wrapping your arms around his middle. this is the only day in ryusei’s life where he’s lost for words.

[mapoeggplant]

skip to loafer chapter 66 analysis // spoilers

the school trip is over, but the changes are not yet: chapter 66 is full of cute moments that remind us how skip to loafer likes to treat its characters with great affection, leading them to a much brighter and gentle future.

i really love chapters like this one, where we have the famous “conversation between the girls vs conversation between the boys”. it’s very clear to me how sensei has fun using a lot of the adolescence and innocence of her characters to explore such cute and fun moments like this one, and i'm very grateful for that.

i think there is nothing better than starting the discussion by focusing on the girls! it is so good to see the four of them so comfortable with each other. this moment of them all together sharing a bed reminded me a lot of when they all went to mitsumi's hometown and gossiped all night. it is cute moments like these that we will remember forever as we grow up and lose the freedom we had when we were young, so i am very happy that they have the opportunity to experience something that they will carry inside their hearts for as long as they live. 

i also really like seeing how mitsumi is gradually opening up and becoming more and more adventurous. i never would have imagined that such a responsible and rule-following girl would agree to meet her friends even after curfew. of course, it wouldn't be such a peaceful moment without the stress of finding one of the teachers on patrol, but the fact that mitsumi got carried away and ran away with the girls already shows how she has been letting herself be carried away by the lightness of life.

it's beautiful to see how they understand each other so well and are always willing to face anything together — and “together” has to be the highlighted word for this episode. just like makoto said, whether it's running through the hallways or getting scolded, what matters is that they are facing everything side by side, without leaving anyone behind.

meanwhile, in another room, shima is cornered by his friends, especially mukai, who knows exactly everything that has happened for some time now. seeing shima getting involved with mitsumi again awakens in him a concern that is both new and old: old because he has already had a similar conversation with shima and knows about all of his doubts and complex feelings; new because, for him, it is as if shima is once again getting involved in something selfishly and without thinking much about the consequences. what he did not expect is that shima has changed much more than he himself imagined.

it is very good and gratifying to see how shima has been changing so much in this last arc. he has been increasingly true to himself and increasingly builds a desire to change his own relationship with his past. in my opinion, i believe that he is not only looking for a way to forgive everything that happened to him and finally accept that he does not have to carry as much guilt as he believes, but that he also sees a new life in his future without having to be completely tied to what happened in his past. he no longer wants to hide everything that happened and wear a mask, but rather forgive what happened for the sake of a future where he can be the one he seeks to be. 

and this is also reflected in the way he treats two people around him: mitsumi and his mother.

in the previous chapter, we had the chance to understand a little more about how shima understands his relationship with mitsumi and how he believes she sees/understands him. of course, there is still a very foggy barrier that makes it very difficult for him to truly understand and see everything with greater clarity, but little by little, i believe that the kindness that mitsumi sees in him will begin to be much stronger than the contempt he feels for himself, giving him the opportunity to take care of himself with more affection.

or rather: not only to himself, but also to everyone around him. and i believe that this has been happening little by little, since i see a lot of potential and growth in his plea to mukai, so that his friend will once again trust him and believe his words when he says that, from now on, he will no longer face his relationship with mitsumi with so much hesitation or fear.

now, the grand finale of this chapter, for me, involves the second person i mentioned earlier: shima finally manages to face his mother, but not in the way we readers expected. i always saw many people (myself included) expecting shima to face his mother in a much more firm and direct way, using the same aggressiveness and defensiveness that he used every time he talked to her before. i really believed that he would question everything she made him go through and would place much of the blame on her, but of course acting like that would make no sense after so many changes that shima has faced in the last few chapters.

inviting his mother to the next school festival not only shows that he is ready to start a new phase of his life with her, but it is also a way of showing her that he is much more willing to understand all of her reasons instead of questioning them aggressively. he no longer wants to keep their terrible relationship alive or point fingers, but rather to start something new and without so much pain, just like he did when he finally returned to the theater and found his passion again.

i believe that, from now on, there is a huge chance for shima's relationship with his family to improve and grow in a more positive way. i think that, in the future, we will finally have a chapter focused on his mother, where she opens her heart more to this son that she hurt so much, having a redemption arc for the sake of a healthier relationship with shima. i also think that we are close to seeing shima being even more open with little keiri, which fills my heart with joy.

and well, to finish, i think that all this change that we saw in volume 11, this hopeful beginning for volume 12 and the back cover of volume 11 being composed by chris and ririka, shows that these two will be the next people to have a greater focus, bringing even more light to shima's past and much more clarity so that he can walk towards a brighter future. this is all a guess, of course, but it would be perfect for me, since i love both of them and can’t wait to dissect them a little bit more. 

well, i do believe i will talk more about chapter 66 before the release of chapter 67, but for now, that's all i have to say!!! thank you so much for reading and for having the patience with me, it means a lot 💛 don't forget to buy vol 11 and chapter 66 on comic days!!!!!

[naminethewriter]

First Date and Spies

This was written for @artisticallygay as part of the @sanderssidesgiftxchange! The requests were Remus and Logan going on a date, Virgil and Logan stargazing and Roman and Remus getting along! I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Logan and Remus both don't have any experiences with going on dates and as the former's best friend and the latter's brother, Virgil and Roman just want to make sure nothing goes wrong.

Content Warnings: None

Read here on Ao3!

~~*~~

“It is not too cold, is it?” Logan asks and Virgil squints at him.

“No, it’s fine, but you’re being weird, dude.”

“I do not know what you’re talking about,” he says stiffly. Virgil is getting annoyed. Logan’s been his best friend since they were five. He can read him like a book, and he knows that, so why does he insist on doing stuff like this when he knows it doesn’t work?

Virgil sighs, letting himself fall from his sitting position into a lying one and stares at the stars. It’s been a sort of tradition for the two of them to stargaze together at least once every few months in Logan’s backyard, ever since he’d been gifted that telescope when they’d been eight or so. Now they were both eighteen, in their last year of high school and Virgil did his best not to think about the fact that they might not be able to do this as frequently anymore once they graduate.

So instead, he goes back to what’s been bothering him initially.

By now, Logan has taken his seat next to him, though he seems to have decided to remain upright, staring up into the stars with a strange expression on his face.

“Lo, c’mon. You know you can tell me anything,” Virgil prompts gently, propping himself up on his arms to get a better look at Logan’s face in the low light.

He did not expect his friend’s face to turn red.

Not deep red, but he does still flush.

“I… Um…” Logan stutters, even more uncharacteristic of him but Virgil gives him time to find his words. “I was asked on… a romantic outing. At school. Today,” he finishes eventually. Virgil’s eyebrows shoot up and he hurries into a sitting position.

“Wow. What did you say?”

“I agreed.”

A smile spreads across Virgil’s lips, until a thought crosses his mind.

“It wasn’t a threat thing or a prank though, right?” he asks, seriously. Logan immediately shakes his head.

“Not at all. Remus was very clear that he would accept any answer I gave him and that I could take my time to do so. And I do not think he is the type of person to play such a horrible prank.”

“Remus?! Remus Prince?”

“Yes. He is a friend of yours, correct?”

“Well, yeah. And I knew he had kind of a thing for you, but I didn’t think he’d act on it! He talks a lot about his attractions to certain people, makes sex jokes all the time, but never actual relationships. Now that I think about it, he has started talking more about weird conversations you were having and not so much about your butt anymore.”

That gets another flush on Logan’s cheeks and Virgil snickers.

“You are right that he would never ask anyone out as a prank though. Not only does he think it’s cruel, but his brother would also kick his ass. You know how Roman’s obsessed with true love and relationships and stuff.”

“Yes, I am aware,” Logan says after clearing his throat. “Be that as it may, Remus has invited me to the science museum and has explicitly stated that he intends it to be a date. And while I am interested to explore that kind of relationship with him, I am not sure how to prepare for such an event.”

Virgil has to try really hard not to giggle at how formal Logan is being. It’s clear that he’s embarrassed by his lack of experience and Virgil would never judge him for it, but he can’t help but think his stiff way of asking for help is kinda cute.

“Don’t worry, Lo. I’ll help you get ready. I don’t know a lot about dating myself but I’m sure together we can figure out some sort of game plan.”

“Thank you.”

~~*~~

“Remus, I know you love it, and I hate to admit you do look good in it, but you’re not going to wear mesh or fishnets on your date!”

“The hell not?!”

“Because you invited Logan to the science museum! On a school holiday! There will be tons of kids and it’s a bit of a classy place! At least try to match the vibe a bit.”

“So, I can’t be slutty?” Remus pouts at his brother who is sitting on his bed. Roman has experience dating so Remus thought it might be good to ask him for some tips, but he is starting to regret it just a bit. Even if Roman has a point.

“You can be a bit but dial it down to like 10% or something. I mean, Logan also hasn’t seen you much outside of school, right? Hitting him with too much ‘sluttiness’ might scare him off or fluster him too much.”

Remus snorts as Roman actually uses air quotes around the word ‘sluttiness’. At least he’s gotten him to stop reprimanding him for improper language two years ago.

“Fine, fine! I will cover up more. But I am taking the leather jacket with all the pins.”

“At least take the middle finger one off. And keep a distance from any children or you’ll have to deal with Karen’s yelling about you corrupting their children again. Let me tell you, it’s kinda fun to watch you mess with them from a distance but if I’m next to you and in spitting range? Not so much. And I do hope you’re not planning to go around the museum without Logan.”

“Stop being so smart, it’s kinda annoying,” Remus complains with no real bite as he grabs his leather jacket and removes the advised pin as well as one or two more with rather large and easy-to-read fonts.

“Thank you for noticing my brilliance.”

“Shut up!” Remus giggles as he puts the pins away in a safe place and launches himself at his brother for a short, friendly fight atop his bed.

~~*~~

He’s a genius, Roman decides as he crouches behind a bush outside of the science museum, pretending to look for a coin he ‘accidentally’ dropped. Through the holes in the thicket, he can just make out his brother and his date talking on the steps before the entrance. His mission has officially begun.

While he does have a good vantage point to spy on Remus, he should be pretty much invisible to them, especially since he planned his outfit with this in mind, for once going with a darker color palette than his usual, even though he couldn’t resist some lighter accents – he didn’t want to end up looking like an emo after all.

“What are you doing in a bush, princey?” a voice suddenly whispers right next to his ear and Roman squeaks. Thankfully he had been present enough to not literally jump and blow his cover completely and a glance towards the entrance shows him that his brother and his date are making their way inside none the wiser to his presence.

He sharply turns to the person next to him with a scowl.

“What the hell was that?!” he hisses. “You almost blew my cover!”

Virgil Storm simply grins at him in a way that just infuriates him further.

“Cover? I thought you were looking for your coin you so convincingly, accidentally dropped.”

“You— I— That— Ugh! Just shut it!” Confirming with another glance that Remus and Logan have indeed gone inside, Roman stands up. “What I do here is none of your business!”

“So you weren’t spying on your brother and my best friend as they’re going on their first date?”

“Of course not! Who do you take me for!” Roman scoffs, even though that has been exactly what he had been doing. And was still intending to do.

“Right, sorry, your royal highness would of course never stoop so low, it’s not very honorable now, is it?”

Roman can see the teasing smile on Virgil’s lips and yet he can’t help but be a bit hurt by his words.

“I’m just worried about him,” he admits, his willingness to argue having left him. “He’s had crushes before but never as intense as this one. I just don’t want him to do anything stupid because he got nervous or something.”

Roman avoids looking at Virgil, staring firmly at the museum’s entrance as if his words might summon an angry Logan storming outside. He startles as a hand is placed on his shoulder.

“You don’t need to justify yourself, princey. It’s not like I’m here to look at the exhibits.”

His mouth falls open as Roman takes Virgil’s words in before he smacks him in the side, albeit lightly.

“What are you judging me for then if you’re here for the same reason?!”

“One, because you looked like you were trying so hard to play the spy it was ridiculous and I couldn’t not tease you and two, because I’m not ashamed that’s what I’m here for. Lo’s my best friend and while I do kinda trust Remus, I know he’s a bit of a loose canon at times. I’ve got anxiety, thinking up the worst-case scenarios is kinda my thing.”

“I was so being casual,” Roman grumbles. Virgil rolls his eyes before he walks past him.

“No, you weren’t. Now let’s go in before we lose them completely and this will have been a complete waste of time.”

With a huff, Roman follows his lead.

~~*~~

“So, how long are we gonna let them follow us?” Remus asks about half an hour into their date. Logan turns from where he’d been studying the plaque of an exhibit to see Remus watching the room’s entrance with a grin on his face.

“Oh, I wasn’t really considering telling them to stop. I know Virgil is here out of concern for me and while I do not know the motives of your brother, I assumed they would leave once they were satisfied that we are not about to tear each other to shreds.”

“That sounds like it could be kinda fun though! I wonder who of us would win if we were in a death match. I mean, I am probably stronger than you and have more experience fighting but you’re surprisingly nimble and have a great reaction time, so you might be able to outmaneuver me.”

“Interesting points,” Logan hums, considering the scenario. “I would need more data to come to a conclusion on the matter I believe, so I propose to table this discussion for another time.”

Remus grins at him now, no longer watching the entrance. Logan watches a flash of purple hurry past it.

“You already proposing a second date?”

“So far I am not opposed. But I will leave the final judgement to later in the day.”

“Fair. Anyway, back to the actual topic, when’d you figure out we were being tailed?”

“Before we even came in. As you know, Virgil and I have been friends for a very long time and I know his habits probably even better than his parents. I spotted his bicycle as I made my way towards the entrance. I believe Virgil, due to his heightened anxiety, wanted to make sure that he arrived here on time and hid in the coffee shop across the street until we met up.”

Remus raises an eyebrow at him.

“You can tell which bike was his? The park out back was pretty full, there must’ve been a lot of bikes.”

“Yes, there were. But Virgil does not like to park his bicycle where most would park it since he is afraid of not being able to find it later but also does not want to leave it in a hidden spot where it can be more easily stolen. Add in the factor of not wanting to be found out, it was reasonable to assume he would leave his bicycle in an area with some others to blend in but not unable to be found. Not to mention, the only thing I need to do to confirm my suspicions about it being Virgil’s vehicle, I just needed to check how it was locked. Again, due to his anxiety, Virgil is very particular about how he locks it. He has one lock with a numbered code and one that requires a key. He makes sure to connect his bicycle to a stable object with one and uses the other to secure the back tire to the frame.”

“Wow, I feel like I’m learning more about the Emo than I am you,” Remus chuckles. Logan feels his face heat up with embarrassment. Maybe that was too detailed an explanation for a date.

“I apologize.”

“Nah, don’t. It’s fascinating stuff. Your observation skills are impressive.”

“As are yours. When did you notice them?”

“I can distinguish Roman’s high-pitched yelp from thousand others. Your little nightmare of a best friend startled him quite bad outside.”

“I see. Well, considering how they have now taken over our topic of conversation, I do believe it might be appropriate to tell them to stop after all. I would like to give you my full attention.”

“Yeaaaaaaahhhhhhh, I guess you’re right,” Remus sighs. “It would be kinda fun to turn this around on them and scare them or something, but I guess I can mess with Roman some other time and I don’t actually want your purple cat to hate me.”

“I do not own a cat,” Logan blinks, confused. He and Remus have talked about pets previously, had he forgotten? And how does that relate to their current conversation anyway?

“I meant Virgil. He hisses like a cat sometimes and follows you around like he’s your pet, it’s kind of a bad attempt at a nickname.”

“I see. I will endeavor to understand your humor more.”

“Aw, thanks!” Remus giggles and Logan finds he likes the sound.

“I will text Virgil now.”

“Tell him I said hi.”

~~*~~

From Logan

While I do appreciate you worrying about me, I am having a very good time with Remus. If you could please take Roman and leave, I would be very grateful.

Also, Remus says ‘hi.’

Virgil looks down at his phone and snorts.

“C’mon, princey, we’re leaving.” He grabs Roman’s arm and starts dragging him towards the exit.

“Wha-! Why? I’m not done!”

“Our cover’s blown, so it doesn’t matter anyway.”

Roman stops struggling but stops moving, too.

“What do you mean?”

“Here,” Virgil says as he holds up his phone to show Roman the text he just got from Logan. “My guess is they’ve known for a while.”

Roman’s eyes flutter across the screen and his face turns a bit red.

“I thought we were being so subtle though!” he whines but does start following Virgil outside.

“As if subtlety is something you’re capable of,” Virgil snorts and dodges the responding attempt of Roman to smack him in the side again. “Let me buy you a coffee or something. This was a lot less stressful with someone else.” Roman smiles at that, looking so genuinely happy that Virgil can’t resist teasing him again, “Especially with someone so much worse at it than me.”

“Hey!” Roman calls after him, pouting once again, as Virgil speed walks ahead of him, unable to contain his grin.

[hkevisvlsvso]

Okay finally got something done :')

This may be kinda shit but posted it anyway cause i want to send here that better part of story(where they kiss :3)

The '~~~~' -things are just something what goes like the same in the series and i was too lazy to write them but you all know what happended there so..

And it ends on a really random point of the episode but ... . . ..

And I didn't know what to call die Wilden Kerle so just called it Wilden Kerle🥲

-yea so enjoy:

-----------------------☆☆☆-------------------------

I sit on my bed and stare at the math book resting in front of me, even though the numbers have been blurred in my eyes for ages into an unrecognizable background mass, thanks to which I can only see my thoughts very clearly. I should be doing homework, but my mind is wandering. Unfortunately, they somehow always find their way to Leon.

I have already declared to myself that I officially hate Leon, and I will never forgive him. He's a complete asshole full of himself and left me- I mean, us, for fame, even though he was the one who insisted that anyone who leaves the Wilden Kerle is a shameful traitor. He's a self-righteous jerk. And I hate him. I really, really hate him. Just because I can't stop thinking about him doesn't mean I don't hate him.

I throw the book at the wall and stand up, because sitting isn't going to help anything. I decide to go for a bike ride somewhere just to get my thoughts elsewhere.

After I've been cycling for a while, Vanessa comes up to meet me. Slowed down my pace so she can turn to cycle in the same direction as me.

Vanessa looks happy. As if nothing happened yesterday. At least she doesn't seem to miss Leon at all. I hope I don't look like that myself, although I literally couldn't sleep last night thinking about Leon and his last look all night. In other words, nothing is normal, not without Leon, and if it bothers Vanessa at all, she hides it really well.

So Vanessa smiles as if it wasn't just yesterday that Leon left our team, waves her hand after getting next to me, and says:

"Marlon called. Hadschi has finally found the owner of the last skull!"

I smile, even genuinely this time.

"Let's go."

~~~~~

Of course Markus's father was not in the bank. It's Sunday now. But where did he go?

Suddenly Vanessa notices his car in front of the museum. What the hell is he doing there?

"Let's go see."

We crouched behind Markus' father's car. I hope Vanessa listens to what he and the mayor are talking about, because I only listen with half an ear. "It would be better if you take it, Mr. Mayor. It's not safe in my house."

I loved Leon. He was actually a complete asshole, but maybe that's why I liked him. He didn't really try to please me, on the contrary, he almost always seemed to be arguing or outright begging to be fucked, but that's why he's so funny and natural, himself. He is also honest and speaks his mind directly, so when he compliments me, I know he really means it. He wouldn't just say that so I wouldn't feel bad, because he doesn't care if I get hurt by his words.

In my previous schools, many girls have wanted to date me. I agreed to the first request because I was stupid. I had never spoken to that girl, and one day her friends snubbed her giggling in front of me.

If I were to think about such things, I would say that it was quite unnerving to stand in front of some random person while she squealed and giggled and her friends stared at us, amused by the awkward situation. Finally, the girl mumbled that she had a crush on me. I didn't know what to answer so I said "okay".

It wasn't an affirmative answer as far as I know because she didn't actually ask anything, but still her friends started squealing in love and clearly this girl was now my girlfriend.

At first I thought that it could be quite nice, and that at least the girl liked me. I was naive. It started to dawn on me at the latest when I realized she was only talking about my dad or how "handsome" I was. Her real compliments were flat, and she probably didn't believe even her own tone of voice when she said I was funny. Instead, I was too quiet and too cold and sarcastic and short and my favorite dark green hoodie at the time was unfashionable. She threw it in the trash can. On the other hand, I'm quite grateful for that, because in hindsight it was really quite horrible, and my father had never liked it either.

The girl left me after two months of dating, because she said I was too quiet and distant, and I didn't care about anything but football.

Which was indeed true.

Through me, the girl had gotten to know the members of my soccer team at the time, and because of that I saw her many times a week when she came to the team's practices to see her new boyfriend. She kept winking at me when I was sitting on the bench, but never said anything. Except for one time when she came to sit next to me and twirl her blonde hair around her fingers. He greeted me in a voice I had heard too many times before, and I felt a dark satisfaction when I said nothing and moved two seats away from her. The girl stared at me shocked for a moment, as if she couldn't understand how I could not like her, and she was very annoyed when I allowed myself a satisfied smile just to show that I didn't care, and then she went to approach her new boyfriend.

A similar thing happened a couple of times until I learned to say no, and to leave people before they leave me, when I turned out to be a completely normal person, even though I have a perfect father.

Leon is honest. If he says I'm good, he really thinks I'm good.

However, he really cares about us more than he admits. He would never say it out loud, maybe he wouldn't even fully admit it to himself, but I know. He could go to any length for the things that are important to him. He is wild, in the sense that he himself wrote it in Wilden Kerle's rule list.

It's just a shame that this time he chose to care about fame more than his team, and will go as far as he needs to for it.

I wish he cares about me more than he admits.

Or: I wished he cared about me more than he would admit.

Nowadays, I don't give a damn what, or who, he cares about. Not after what he did.

Markus' father and the mayor leave the car back towards the museum, and I remember that I had to eavesdrop on their conversation. Well, I hope Vanessa was listening..

"Let's follow!" I say as if I am fully aware of the whole situation.

We walk into the museum hall when the doorman stops us.

"Is there an invitation?" he asks in the most strained tone anyone has ever spoken in. I stare at him, and then at Vanessa, as if to signal that he needs to come up with something.

"um, we just wanted to-"

"I can't let you in without an invitation", the doorman interrupts. Then, suddenly, Leon appears out of nowhere.

Okay, I admit to staring at him, and even though I hate him, it doesn't stop me from thinking about how I like his hair, or how I'm so happy to see him that I just want to hug him and have him hug me and feel his warmth against me.

I still hate him.

Leon finally seems to understand that we want to get inside.

"They came to see the new superstar. Me."

Superstar. I don't know if I should be amused or outraged. For some reason, I still missed his voice, even though I last heard it only yesterday.

Still I smile. I want him back and he's clearly helping us.

"Uh... Don't you read magazines?" I ask to reinforce Leon's words.

"Ah, I understand. In that case."

I'm not sure if Leon is just smiling in general, or if he's smiling at me.

I hope he's smiling at me.

-----------------------☆☆☆------------------------

Guys I think I just wrote a really short part of some Deon fanfic...

It's like in s2 e12 the scene when Leon comes to the landfill(I have no idea what is it called really in the english dub version so..) and... u know.

Because i just realised that Deniz looks so sad when Leon comes while everyone else looked just angry 😭

The way how Deniz stares at that book like he knows Leon is going to leave him and the whole team but thinks that if he doesn't see it and just focuses on the book, mabye it won't really happen....

BUT, here it is. I'm really bad at english so i hope you understand it😅😅

[(Almost) all the lines were from the finnish dub, idk if it's the same in other languages but mabye it's okay....]

------------------------☆☆☆------------------------

I look up from the book when I hear footsteps approaching. Leon walks to the landfill looking far too casual. Traitor. A little hope flutters inside me. However, it slows down as soon as Vanessa says:

- Well, who's that? Came to tell us about your big ad campaign?

If Leon was going to apologize, he wouldn't do it after that. I press my gaze to the book and try to focus on the ancient Greek numerical codes. I want to shut out everything around me. I just want to squeeze my eyes shut, and when I open them, Leon comes beside me on the rusty roof of the car and wraps his arms around my neck and gives me something else to think about and figures out a way to get Teufelstopf back and all is well again.

No.

When I open my eyes, I'm still staring at the much too small and monotonous text of the book. Leon snorts.

- actually, I came to apologize for being so busy these days, but if you're like that, I guess it's better that I don't come at all anymore. Ever.

He doesn't know how much his cold voice breaks my heart. But I can be cold too. And I have that right. He is leaving the bunch. I stand up on the roof of the car. Leon has already turned to leave when I say:

- That's what I said too. We can do without a captain like that.

My words feel like a heavy lump on my chest, and a few more pounds are added to that lump when I realize I'm right. Leon was always the one who insisted that no one should ever leave the team. He loved football and the team more than anything in this world, as did I, and that was probably part of the reason I fell for him. But now he is leaving Teufelstopf, the Wild Soccer Bunch, us, me, for fame. I didn't think that he would be the one who leaves the team.

When Leon hears my words, something disappears in his eyes, something inexplicable. At least I think I see it. Or I hope. Or at least I want to.

He doesn't even say anything. Anger and disappointment bubble up inside me. I jumped down from the car. The thump of my feet againstthe ground makes Leon quickly turn towards me. I look at him. At the moment, I would like to just hug him on the one hand, and hit him on the other hand. I clench my hands into fists.

- I fucking koved you, I say way more toxic than i meant to. Though mabye it's just a good thing. I don't know.

I let all the pent-up sadness and frustration come out of my voice because I want him to know I'm serious. I say it so quietly that no one else can hear it, even though I want to scream it into his ear. On the other hand, I probably couldn't make a louder sound than this, almost a whisper, from the stranglehold of grief. Leon looks me in the eyes and for a few moments I may notice sadness in his eyes. Almost as crushing as my grief. Then he just closes his eyes, turns around and leaves. Up until now, I have felt that everything will be alright. But now I know that I don't have Leon anymore, everything is lost.

------------------------☆☆☆------------------------

It was kinda google translator english but hope you liked it.. I'm not sure if i do?

[horrorwebs]

why are men literally the fucking worst