#but at least Lost Treasure will always be there

[the-heartstring-chronicles]

An Ode to the J/C fandom that raised me.

I was 21 when I logged on to the message board that would become my online home for the following three years and which still feels like home when I think about it.

The year was 2006.

Fandom Elders, welcomed me, taught me lore, encouraged my fledgling writing. Loved me as a person, wrapped me up in their support and care. Both as a fellow fan and an eventual fandom experience equal. Some even took me in to their real lives as a pseudo niece, sister, cousin.

Fellow newbies and I became friends or at least acquaintances, We celebrated each other's writing growth, cheered when each other got good feedback, especially when it was from writers we admired. Shared thories and perspectives, sometimes different from those of the elders

All fandom generations talked fandom news and current events togther. Small groups, chatted and ate dinners together over Skype and watched movies. We said goodnight to each other before bed in threads as a whole board ,

We celebrated birthdays and it was always fun to see which friend posted your birthday thread and who commented after saying they had wanted to do it. And it was fun to be the friend who posted your friend's birthday thread when it was their turn.

There were fic exchanges , run at a professional level, by fans for each other. And there was also the reality that we all knew each other well enough that we could guess who our match was most of the time.

There were fights, there were squabbles, there were sad times.

But we were a family, they still are famiy in my heart, all those people. They will always be, no matter how often we speak now, and though I have lost touch with some, if they reached out today, I would drop everything to connect or to help.

A couple of characters who love each other and love the stars brought me a extra home. And the fandom manners and skills that I have today.

My J/C fandom home was magical and I hope the light and love they showed me continues to shine in me and in all those who were part of it.

And I hope any fan that loves anything finds the treasure that I did when they go looking for their community.

[nightrae13]

I'm still on Neverland after the Wendy Bird Fell, so no wonder I ended up grieving again my lost OTP and fav character

Rewatching the Tinker Bell films with my 4-year old cousin (Lydia really hit it home lol), and I keep on thinking how this franchise was my first exposure to mix signals (I mean, not just in shipping, but in general), with how they kept on implying Terence and Tink's romance, but not fully committing to it until it was unfortunately cancelled... like c'mon right? You had Rosetta and Queen Clarion have cute scenes with their boyfriends, but Terence did not even speak. My inner ten-year old self is still angsty about this ship baiting. If y'all just want a representation of girl and boy just being friends, Tink with Clank and Bobble is right there! Ship what you want, but Terence was obviously framed as the love interest, and then they just did nothing with it!

Terence went from having these cute special scenes highlighting his bond with Tinker Bell since the first film, to a background character who doesn't even exchange a line or share a frame with his apparent (to the very least) best friend; Look, he was barely in GFR, but he was the first and last character Tinker Bell spoke to in that movie, and was part of the squad hanging out in the end; his presence and absence were addressed properly with respect to his character and relationship with Tink.

Afterwards... he was just there for a little fanservice in a few seconds. They started the mix signals or ship baiting by SotW when Tink looked at him at the start, and how Peri asked her about them (where she did not even deny if they're dating), yet Terence was with less than a minute screen-time and no spoken dialogue. It's just sad yk (Jesse McCartney was still credited tho lol).

I get that they had to expand the stories and characters somewhere else and he was really too kind of a character who already solved his conflict with the mc (where I think many could see as a mary-sue even tho he had his flaws and fights with Tink), but as the very least, bff character, he was just sadly overlooked. Like, why is he barely there in Pirate Fairy?? The whole movie revolving around his best friend literally is about his expertise lmaoo The writers had to throw away an already established talented dust-keeper fairy just for the plot they wanted like how they did with the concept of winter fairies in SotW.

In the end, maybe some people just don't like or care about him (which is sad, bc how could you not??), or/and the writers just wanted to focus on the girl group (or maybe Jesse's talent fee is too big who knows? haha) ... I mean, it's still good they left it open-ended, so people can ship and interpret it however they want (no wrong with that esp. since the franchise is towards a younger audience and promotes friendships more). My disappointment just mainly comes from the erasure of Terence's importance in the later films. They could have just done what GFR did; he's just a supporting character, but he was still treated as one of Tink's friends. He didn't deserve being shoved aside especially as one of the fairies who originated from the books, and her best friend.

Now, excuse me if I'll watch Lost Treasure for the nth time.

[d1stalker]

Suspension Bridge Effect [Logan Howlett]

Summary: You saved one of the younger mutants during a mission, and now he's obsessed with you, much to Logan's dismay

Warnings: mainly Logan POV, jealousy, cuteness, fem!reader WC: 2.6k - MASTERLIST

----

Logan’s losing it; his thoughts are spiralling to the point where he wonders if he should be locked up.

At least, that’s what he thinks is happening as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. You’re standing near the edge of the mansion's garden, laughing softly as the kid—Johnny, a younger teenage mutant—tries to hand you a bouquet of hastily picked flowers. His face is flushed, eyes wide with admiration, and he’s practically vibrating with nervous energy as he looks up at you.

This punk, this moron, this lovesick blockhead, has been glued to your side ever since you saved him during the last mission.

It was supposed to be a standard run-of-the-mill rescue operation, but when things went south, and he was cornered, you swooped in like the hero you are and got him out unscathed. Now, the kid’s been following you around like a lost puppy, trying to win your attention, your approval—your everything. And it’s infuriating.

Logan can feel his hands clench into fists as he watches Johnny offer you the worst attempt at a bouquet he's ever seen, and sees the youngster's face turning a deeper shade of red as he mumbles something the older man can’t quite hear. Probably some dumb compliment, he thinks bitterly. The kid’s got no game.

You smile at Johnny. It's that soft, kind smile that always makes Logan’s heart skip a beat. But this time, all it does is fuel the fire raging within. He knows that smile isn’t just for him, but damn it, he wishes it were.

He wishes you’d tell the kid to scram, that you’re already spoken for, that you have a lovely boyfriend who could put together a way better bunch of flowers, but instead, you take the flowers with a gentle laugh, thanking the goblin like he’s just handed you a priceless treasure.

And somehow, the torment is never ending, it seems. Because later in the day he find’s himself lurking at the doorway of the mansion library, watching as you and Johnny sit together, heads bent over some book he know knows the little gremlin is just pretending to be interested in. That brat is soaking up every second of your attention, hanging on your every word, and it’s driving Logan up the wall.

“He’s just a kid,” you keep saying whenever he grumbles about it, but you don’t see it. You don’t see the way the bastard’s eyes light up whenever you smile at him, or how he leans in just a little too close when you’re explaining something to him. You don’t notice the small touches—the way his hand lingers on your arm when he’s pulling you somewhere, the way he looks at you like you’re the centre of his universe.

Logan sees it all, because he’s been there before. He knows exactly what Johnny’s feeling because he felt the same way when he first met you. Still does. It's that intense, all-consuming crush that makes you do stupid things just to be near the person you can’t stop thinking about.

“Logan, you’re staring,” Jean’s voice cuts through his thoughts, and he turns to see her smirking at him from across the hallway.

“I’m not starin’. Just keepin’ an eye on things,” he mutters, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

She raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You’re jealous.”

He scowls at her. “I ain’t jealous of some kid.”

“Sure you’re not,” she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Why don’t you just talk to her about it?”

Clenching his jaw, he knows she’s right but not wanting to admit it. “She doesn’t get it. She thinks it’s cute.”

“Maybe if you told her how you’re feeling, she’d understand,” Jean suggests gently, though there’s a knowing look in her eyes.

Huffing and turning away from the library, Logan has decided that he’s had enough of standing on the sidelines. He needs to do something before he loses his mind entirely. But it seems he can’t escape this torture, because he can’t even get five minutes alone with you.

He tried to get your attention after you finished up teaching your class, but before he could, the little devil ran in front of him and got it first. His eye twitches as he watches Johnny offer you another “gift,” this time a poorly folded paper crane. You take it with a smile, thanking him kindly, and Logan grits his teeth so hard he swears his molars might shatter.

“Hey, kid,” He grumbles, stepping forward with a growl in his throat that would send most people running. “Don’t you got somewhere else to be?”

Johnny looks up, momentarily startled by the sharp tone, but then just gives a nervous chuckle and scratches the back of his head. “Uh, no, sir. I was just, um, hanging out with her.”

“Yeah, well, she’s got things to do. Don’t you, darlin’?” Logan’s eyes flicker to you, hoping you’ll catch the hint and send the kid on his way.

But you don’t. You just laugh. A musical sound that makes him want to clamp his hand over your mouth because why should that devil's spawn get to hear your beautiful voice? He’s truly about to lose it. 

“It’s fine, babe. Johnny’s just being sweet.”

Sweet. Logan wants to snort. Sweet is one word for it. Obnoxious, irritating, and clingy are a few others that come to mind.

“You got a crush or somethin’, boy?” His tone is laced with a dangerous edge as he crosses his arms over his chest, towering over the knucklehead. He’s trying not to outright scare him, but damn, he’s close to it.

Johnny turns beet red, stammering, “N-no, I just… she saved me, and I just wanted to say thank you, that’s all!”

Narrowing his eyes, a low snarl rumbles from his chest, and Logan takes a deliberate step forward, but before he can do more, you place a hand on his arm, pulling him back.

“Logan, that’s enough,” you say firmly, giving him a pointed look. 

Well, there goes another piece of his sanity.

You’re too kind, too understanding. You just don't get it. To you, it’s just an innocent crush, something harmless, something that makes you smile. You think it’s nothing, and that only makes his blood boil more.

“Fine,” he finally mutters, stepping back, though his eyes never leave the teenager’s. Johnny seems to take that as some kind of begrudging acceptance and gives you another shy smile before scurrying off, likely to find the next token of his gratitude to bring to you.

Once he’s gone, Logan lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. “This is drivin’ me nuts, you know that?”

You just chuckle again, stepping closer to him and slipping your arms around his waist. “It’s just a phase, I’m sure. He’ll get over it.”

Wrapping his arms around you tightly and pulling you in close, he feels a little bit better in your embrace, but his eyes still track where Johnny disappeared into the mansion. “He better. ’Cause if he doesn’t, I might lose my damn mind.”

You tilt your head up, kissing his jaw softly. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

He huffs, not wanting to admit it, but the truth is written all over his face. “Maybe a little.”

Smiling, you lean up to kiss him properly. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Logan kisses you back, a little more possessively than usual, as if to remind himself that you’re his. And even as you melt into him, he can’t help but keep one eye open, scanning the garden for any sign of that kid returning. He might be crazy, but he’ll be damned if he lets some lovestruck teenager get between him and the woman he loves.

—

The next morning, the mansion is buzzing with its usual activity. You and Logan head to the dining hall for breakfast, with him looking a little more relaxed after a night of holding you close. But the moment you step into the room, he spots a certain demon sitting at a table, eyes locked on you as if he’s been waiting for this very moment.

Groaning under his breath, Logan mutters, “Not again,” before guiding you to a table near the windows, hoping Johnny won’t follow.

You take your seat, smiling up at your boyfriend as he pulls out his chair, and for a brief second, he dares to believe that he might actually get to enjoy a quiet breakfast with you. But just as he’s about to sit down beside you, Johnny swoops in out of nowhere, plopping down in Logan’s seat with a grin like he’s just won the lottery.

“Morning!” He chirps, completely oblivious to the thunderous look on the other man’s face.

Freezing in his place, Logan glares at the kid who’s now sitting where he was supposed to be. He mentally cycles through a list of unflattering nicknames—Useless Idiot, Captain Obnoxious, Motherfu—but none of them seem quite strong enough to capture his current feelings. “You’re in my seat, kid.”

Johnny blinks up at him, feigning innocence. “Oh, uh, sorry. I didn’t see your name on it.”

You can practically see the self-control it takes for Logan not to pick the kid up and toss him across the room. His fingers twitch at his sides, his claws itching to come out, but he holds back. For your sake, and only your sake.

“Johnny,” you start, trying to keep your voice gentle but firm, “you do know he is my boyfriend, right? And even if he wasn’t, I’m a bit too, uh, old for you?”

The young mutant's eyes widen, and for a split second, you think you might have gotten through to him. But then he glances over at Logan, his face scrunching up like he’s just eaten something sour.

“Yeah, but he’s, like, hella old,” The idiot blurts out, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as if the mutant standing right there can’t hear every word.

Logan’s expression darkens, a storm brewing in his eyes as his jaw tightens to the point where you can almost hear his teeth grinding. Hella old? Is this guy serious?

He's dealt with all kinds of enemies—mutants, monsters, government assassins—but nothing, nothing has tested his patience like this hellspawn has been. “What did you just say?” he growls menacingly.

Johnny, either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid, doesn’t back down. “I mean, no offense, but you’ve got a lot of… uh, experience, you know? And you’re like centuries old. Maybe she needs someone closer to her age.”

That’s the last straw. Logan’s eyes flash with anger and something else—something more vulnerable that you rarely see. A part of him knows the gremlin’s just talking out of his ass, but the words hit a little too close to home, stirring up old insecurities he usually keeps buried deep.

Without another word, he slams his hand down onto the table, the sound echoing through the dining hall like a gunshot. The room falls into stunned silence as he then storms out, his footsteps heavy and his anger radiating off of him in waves. He doesn’t look back, doesn’t acknowledge the whispers that follow in his wake. He just needs to get away before he does something he’ll regret.

“Logan, wait—” you call after him, but he’s already halfway out the door.

You turn back to Johnny, who’s now looking a little less confident and a lot more like he might have made a mistake. Sighing, you lean forward with a serious expression. “You can’t just say things like that. He’s not just my boyfriend. He’s the person I love.”

Looking down at the table, his face falls, and he begins fiddling with the napkin in his lap. “I didn’t mean to make him mad. I just thought—You saved me and I felt something…I thought maybe you’d feel something for me too.”

You soften, reaching out to pat his hand. “Johnny, you’re a sweet kid, but you’ve got to understand that Logan’s the one I’m with, and no one can replace him.”

He nods slowly, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. “I get it,” he mumbles. “I just…”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “You’ll find someone your own age who’s perfect for you. But for now, you need to give us some space, okay?”

Johnny nods again, this time more resolutely. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Just… try not to instigate anything else. I’ll go talk to him.” You give him one last reassuring smile before heading toward the exit.

When you step out into the hallway, you barely have a second to process your thoughts and decide where to look before you’re suddenly pressed up against the wall. A gasp escapes your lips, but it’s quickly swallowed by Logan’s mouth on yours. The surprise melts away as the intensity of his kiss overtakes your senses, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

His kiss is possessive and fierce. You can feel the frustration, the jealousy, the need to claim what’s his, pouring out of him with every movement of his lips against yours. For a moment, you lose yourself in the heat of it, letting the world around you fade as you focus solely on him.

Then, through the haze of the kiss, the practical part of your brain kicks in. You pull back just enough to murmur against his lips, “Logan… we’re gonna get caught.”

He growls softly, his lips trailing down to your jaw, his breath hot against your skin. “Let them see,” he mutters between kisses. “Maybe then that damn dunce will get the hint.”

You laugh, though the sound is cut off as he captures your lips again, his hands gripping your waist as if he’s afraid to let go. “Babe, really,” you whisper, trying to sound serious but failing as your body responds eagerly to his touch. “People are gonna see…”

“I don’t care,” he grumbles, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below your ear, making you involuntarily shiver against him. “Shoulda thrown that little shit out on his ass… let him know who you belong to.”

“You’re jealous of a teenager,” you tease, though the words come out breathless and almost lost in the intensity of the moment.

Logan pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark. “Don’t like him sniffin’ around you, thinkin’ he’s got a shot.”

You smile up at him, your fingers threading through his hair as you pull him back down for another kiss. “You don't need to feel threatened by him. You’re the only one I want.”

He huffs softly, his lips brushing against yours as he mutters, “Damn right I am.”

“C’mon,” you murmur, gently pushing against his chest. “Let’s go somewhere a little more private, huh?”

He hesitates for a moment, his eyes flickering back toward the dining hall, as if half-expecting Johnny to come barreling out any second. But then he nods, taking your hand and leading you down the hallway, away from prying eyes. His grip on your hand is tight, territorial, and you can’t help but smile as you follow him.

As you walk together, you give his hand a squeeze. “Logan?”

“Yeah?” He glances over at you, his expression softening slightly.

“I love you, you know that?” You say it with that pretty grin of yours, and the way his eyes warm in response makes your heart flutter.

“Yeah,” he replies, his voice quieter now, more sincere. “I love you too.”

The remaining tension melts away, leaving just the two of you walking hand in hand, ready to steal a few more precious moments together.

----

A/N: this was really fun to write!

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

Working at a restaurant with 141! (pt. 3)

"All of us under one roof? Have you lost the plot?"

Gaz snorts, all of you sitting at the bar. You shake your head. The thought alone makes you dizzy.

"Just me and you is hectic enough."

Gaz stares at Soap. John laughs, sipping his scotch. You think for a moment before taking your shot. Wait a fucking second. You joke about how they have decided to make your flat nothing short of a base, and if they're gonna be at your place more than theirs they should at least pay some of your bills. They freeze. Johnny nearly jumps for joy, grabbing your face and kissing you,

"Smart fuckin girl. 'N' if we're paying 'er bills, might as weel move in aye?"

That is not what you meant.

"Who knows, maybe it'll stop them from trying to drag 'er in the walk-in."

John shrugs. They cannot be entertaining this bullshit.

"Doubt it."

Simon shoots back his glass. There's a pause. They look at each other. Oh my God they are entertaining this bullshit.

"I'll think about it."

Price finishes his drink. They talk like you're not even there. You're horrified. Four men and you. One apartment. Not just any men, them. Maybe this is all some sick joke.

"You can always say no."

Simon kisses you before you hop out his car. You're not sure if you believe that. Your phone buzzed in the middle of the night, it's the group chat. Soap sends a link to a three bedroom flat,

Thoughts?

Three dots pop up.

Ok.

Simon replies. That's the only they blessing needed to move forward.

Hectic does not describe the move-in process, there are arguments on who's furniture gets moved in, who sleeps where, who gets to use which bathroom. Eventually there was a vote held (not that it mattered, John always had final say).

Anything big enough to accommodate the five of you was moved in. There would be a bed rotation, making sure no one slept with Ghost and Soap at the same time (and if everyone got tired of their shit, there's three beds for a reason.) Gaz and Soap shared a bathroom upstairs, you shared the one downstairs with Ghost and Price (this made sure you and Kyle had enough space for both your skincare products.)

You barely wore your own clothes anymore; with a closet full of clothes that were comfy and looked good on you, why bother? All your love languages included physical touch, so at any given moment, someone was touching somebody in the house. Lots of shared showers to "save water". Simon mostly cooks with the occasional help of you or Johnny. Sunday roast meant the kitchen was off limits for everyone except Simon, God help anyone who even tries to step foot in his territory.

Holidays are chaotic, always loud with a lot of drinking. And sex. Your first Christmas together was particularly memorable. Of course everyone got gifts that they treasured, including you. But you didn't know what to get Simon. Of course he was the type to say he didn't want anything but, that wasn't right. He opened his gift from you, he stared at it, said a simple thank you and slid it into his pocket. There's a game of poker being played in the living room after gifts are opened. Simon leaves to the bedroom,

"M tired."

Everyone else says goodnight, too enraptured by the game. While there's an argument about Johnny's shuffling, you walk to the bedroom. There he is, cranking the little handle on the wooden music box you gave him; it played Danny boy, wasn't bigger than the palm of your hand, and had an engraving on the inside lid.

"It's the words on the first hoodie you gave me."

"Mhm. Didn't have to get me anything."

He says, still turning the handle. Avoiding eye contact. You sit next to him.

"Don't know if you know how much you mean to me, promise I'll show you though."

His voice the softest you've ever heard. He tucks the box back into his pocket. A quick kiss to your forehead before walking back to the living room with you. This was one of the many holidays Simon didn't have to spend alone anymore.

[within-ur-intro-verse]

Interesting how the majority of MiziSua's fond memories are during the day and full of light.

While pivotal moments for IvanTill are associated with night and darkness.

The light they're depicted in as pairings really highlights the circumstances of their childhoods and the tone of their respective backgrounds.

Mizi is one of, if not the best, treated humans in Anakt Garden and these positive conditions reflect in her positive attitude/disposition.

Ivan, Sua, and Luka are all treated like commodities by their owners. Sua was basically a dress-up doll. Luka and Ivan are status symbols/cash cows. Their wants and needs as human beings are ignored in favor of their owners' desires, but they at least seem to regularly be given the basics requirements (food/hygiene, etc) and maybe even superficially spoiled for their seeming cooperation with their alien captors. They are likely to follow along with their owners' wishes in order to avoid possible punishment.

Till, on the other hand, is actively abused in pretty much every way possible. He's also used as a test subject by the aliens. He thrashes at the chains that bind him and we constantly see the consequences he endures for his rebellious actions.

MiziSua's relationship is framed as pretty lighthearted in the flashbacks despite humanity's present situation, mainly because half the pairing (Mizi) is unaware of how bad things actually are. She's been shielded from the reality of it by everyone around her. No one wanted to dim her light. But, of course, once she lost Sua (her God, her universe), she discovered how harsh this world truly is.

IvanTill, on the other hand, both have always seen this world for what it is. They just cope with it in very different ways. Ivan, by keeping his head down, following orders to the alien's faces, then disobeying secretly behind their backs. Till, by pushing back violently and fighting aggressively against the injustices he's faced with.

This also sort of explains why Ivan and Till both have unrequited feelings for the people that they do. Till represents hope to Ivan through his rebellious nature, his fighting spirit, that Ivan lacks. Mizi represents hope to Till with her positivity/optimism since all of his own has faded away through his years of suffering. They both are admired traits that they wish they had themselves, that they treasure in the other person.

It will be interesting to see if Till's crush on Mizi will survive if they are ever reunited, because Mizi is no longer that blindly optimistic girl he used to have feelings for.

[banj0possum]

umm is it possible to get a yandere! male!siren x shy!gn reader?

Fish Bait

Yandere!Siren x GN Reader

CW: Kidnapping, assault, minor stalking, murder, thalassophobia maybe?

�� You are quite shy when it came to talking to people. You found the whole 'socializing thing' a bit overwhelming considering how rough and loud the rest of the people in your academy was.

🌊 You much preferred staying by the shore with a nice book or drawing book to enjoy the sound of the waves with. The ocean breeze and wailing of seagulls never failed to relax you.

🌊 One day, you heard the strange sound of splashing by the tide pools along the more rocks area of the shore. You thought it was a fish or some other animal that got stuck in one of the pools after the tide retreated and got up to help it out.

🌊 But what you saw was no animal, well, half animal. In one of the pools was a man with the lower half of a fish, his scales glistened wondrously as it splashed in the water.

🌊 The man looked at you with wide eyes and froze. You put your hands up to show you meant no harm.

🌊 "Please! Spare me! I just want to go home!"

🌊 "Calm down! I won't hurt you!"

🌊 He shook with fear as your hands drew closer to him.

🌊 You then pulled him up from the pool and carried him to the sea, he stares at you as you gently lowered him unto the water.

🌊 As soon as his tail was submerged in the sea, he swam out of your grasp and went a distance away from you, part of his head peeking out of the water as his red eyes looked at yours.

🌊 "Well...safe travels.." You mutter, wading back to shore, but the merman peeks his mouth out the water and shouts to you.

🌊 "You're not going to ask anything in return?"

🌊 You look back. "Uhm..no, I'm fine, thanks anyway.."

🌊 "Hmm, you know...you can come with me to my home. I'll grant you the power to breathe under water and you can enjoy the treasures I have there. What do you say? It's the least I can do for what you've done for me!"

🌊 "Nah, I'm good. Be safe though, I heard theres pirates that hunt merfolk nowadays..." You continue your way to shore but the merman swims quickly to your side.

🌊 "Don't you want to be rid of those insolent fools you call schoolmates? I can give you a life people only dream of!"

🌊 "I'm not really..interested..."

🌊 "...You're not?"

🌊 "Yeah..."

🌊 "...Oh..uh..ok...wow-um..well, bye I guess..." The man stutters before sinking his head back into the water.

🌊 You sigh, that was some encounter. You doubt you'd run into something like that again...

🌊 Boy howdy you were wrong.

🌊 You'd spot the strange boy again and again, always hiding back behind the rock or piece of driftwood he was watching you from.

🌊 Sometimes you'd also find trinkets and beautiful stones laid on the shore. You never took them though; you didn't want to take something someone probably lost. The merman would grumble to himself every time you ignored his baits.

🌊 You'd also see him again trapped in the pools, feigning sorrow that poor little him got stuck again during another low tide. What ever shall he do?

🌊 Your days would go on like this, the merman desperately trying to lure you into the sea but to no avail due to your shy and polite nature.

🌊 Him basically stalking you turned to him directly talking to you and trying to get you to go with him in the water.

🌊 "Oh dear, I've been stuck at this reef for ages! I just can't get out! Could you help me please? I promise not to drown you!"

🌊 "No thanks, I'm on the last chapter of my book..."

🌊 "My, my, it's so lonely in the ocean, not a playmate in sight, come down with me so we can really get to know each other yeah?"

🌊 "I don't really wanna get my clothes wet..."

🌊 What you thought was a potentially dangerous creature of the sea became a whiny, attention-seeking drama queen.

🌊 Eventually, you'd learn his name is Caspian. He gave up a bit on trying to lure you and settled on making small talk with you.

🌊 Most of your conversations would revolve around your cultures, how you two lived compared to eachother.

🌊 "So those silver things with teeth aren't combs? Interesting...tell me more!"

🌊 He more or less looked up to you because of the knowledge you'd tell him, even though it was all basic things ever human knows, but he wasn't a human so, I guess it's alright.

🌊 He'd try to crawl onto shore to see what you were reading or drawing. You'd have to scoot away from him because he was dripping wet, and you didn't want your paper to get soiled.

🌊 Please read to him! He loves it when you read out loud the books you bring!

🌊 Life seemed pretty content with you having a friend to talk to, one who's not judgmental of your quiet personality.

🌊 That was until one day, you heard laughing and shouting from your usual spot.

🌊 You saw your classmates, waist deep in the water trying to drag Caspian to the shore, the merman snarling and biting the air around him angrily as the bullies degrade and laugh at his attempts to wriggle out of their grasp.

🌊 "Look at this, boys! With this ugly thing we can buy the whole pub if we wanted to!"

🌊 "H-hey! Leave him alone!" You shouted, dropping your things as you ran to help your friend, but one of them punched you with in the face and grabbed you, about to hit you again.

🌊 "What? You're gonna let this siren kill everyone that comes to this beach? God you're dumb! No wonder why you have no friends!"

🌊 He was about to give another blow when you both heard a shrill cry from the ocean.

🌊 The water pooled with crimson as only the splashing of limbs can be seen form the shore, cries and gurgles are heard from the writhing gore. Your classmate rushes into the water to save his friends before the violent splashing stops and the red patch of bloody water extends towards him and around him until you see him get yanked below into the water, a splash of a fish tail verified in your mind that it was Caspian.

🌊 You could feel your heart pounding as you see the siren lift its head from the water, his blood red eyes staring at you again with razor sharp teeth bared.

🌊 "P-please...don't hurt me..I didn't lead them to you I swear!" You cried as he crawled to your shivering form.

🌊 You held your breath as he pulled you in a wet hug, your clothes getting stained by the salty, bloody water.

🌊 "Oh my darling~ I know you would never hurt me~ But we're not safe here anymore..I fear I'll have to take you somewhere safer...somewhere away from those disgusting creatures."

🌊 You couldn't even react before you were pulled into the water forcefully, you kicked and swam all you could to get him to let go of you, but soon enough, your whole body was under the water. The only thing that was left of you were your things by the sand, and bubbles that rose to the surface before stopping.

🌊 "You'll be safe here my love, my most wonderful treasure~"

this one was by far one of my favorite bois ive written, he's so mhmhmghghghmmmhmhmmhhh

[asunflowerana]

𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐭

summary: usual grocery day with your husband

with: bokuto koutaro, oikawa tooru, sakusa kyoomi and osamu miya.

n/a: brought this one from my old blog, one of my favorites. I'm thinking about making a part 2 with more hq boys, I personally enjoy imagining them dealing with grocery with me 😂. hope you guys enjoy!

⊛ bokuto koutaro

a child inside a full-grow 190cm male body, that's what he is. The fact that he still pouts whenever you remind him that "no, you can't get inside the cart baby, you won't fit" proves the point. But besides his childish mood, he can turn your time shopping a lot funnier.

he does cart races, searches for lower prices like hunting a treasure, throw his hands in the air when he finds his favorite snacks and cackles at every single brand with a silly name. He's a total dork, but his excitement is so endearing that you cannot help but absorb it. It's actually sweet, the way he lightly takes a domestic duty. He's also helpful, willingly carrying the bags to the car, and storing the groceries later at home.

he yearns to stay close to you, so even if his both hands are grabbing the cart handle, at least some arm-brushing will happen. He'll feel pretty lost if you both need to part ways through the market, but it's cute how he beams when you guys find each other later.

favorite section: breakfast food section (he's addicted to cereal), and meat section.

what you usually hear from him: "babe, can we buy this?"

⊛ oikawa tooru

if there's something Tooru doesn't look forward to, is grocery day. He even tried to wipe it off the fridge calendar a few times before, but you're too good to be fooled. "the Santos already ordered by delivery, why can't we do the same?" and he always uses the neighbor's card to try to convince you, whining like his teenager version would.

but one way or another, you always get him to go. If he's in a bad mood, he'll probably sulk in the beginning, lazily riding the cart while sighing every two minutes 'cause this is a total "waste of time". But as the shopping proceeds, he gets used to it, even forgetting what he was so grumpy about when a product catches his attention. With some subtle kisses and a small treat, you can even get a smile out of him. 

He likes to wrap his arm around your back or keep you close by the waist. Not having you there with him it's the worst thing it could happen, so he needs to make sure you stay by his side (also because he simply likes holding you).

favorite section: checkouts (not a surprise), and cosmetics section (he can spend a good amount of time selecting body products).

what you usually hear from him: "are we done?"; "baby, I need your help. This one, or this one?".

⊛ sakusa kiyoomi

He's the one looking forward to this day. He gets uneasy when things run out in the house, so going shopping is almost necessary for his peace of mind. What he doesn't look forward to, though, is dealing with people at the supermarket. Most precisely, the lines, but let's not talk about it to not ruin the mood.

he's very selective, taking whatever time he has to inspect and be sure of the products, in case it isn't a common choice of yours. He appreciates being aware of what you are consuming, not only for being an athlete but because he cares about your health. He likes to share what he's been learning from the team's nutritionist, but he is not a dictator: if you want to treat yourself to some tasty sweets or snacks, he won't get in the way. He'll even join the party.

He'll offer his arm for you to wrap your own, or hold hands. He's grateful to have your company, so he'll cherish it as much as he can. He's also very protective if the place or the lines are too crowned, keeping you by his side and holding you close with his arm.

favorite section: cleaning products (you have no idea how relieved he gets when he goes there).

what you usually hear from him: "I know you want it. Go ahead, put in the cart"; "tsc, they always put the gloves way back there"; "these stupid lines. Again."

⊛ osamu miya

The king of groceries. He's used to doing this two, or three times a week, and it never gets boring. The experience has made him smarter about where and when it is best to buy, plus he has a good eye when it comes to product quality and price. So yeah, you have almost nothing to worry about when Osamu Miya is your grocery partner. Almost.

He's very chill and helpful while shopping, but you better keep a good eye on the cart: it'll get filled to the brim in one minute. When Osamu likes something, he makes a point of buying as much as he can. Once, he filled almost three entire carts, and half of one was just from rice bags. Someone might think you have a whole volleyball team as a family with the amount of food he wants to take home.

Hands on your back, shoulder, waist, any free space he has to keep you close to him – and he'll keep it there the whole time. Touch is one of his love languages, so there's no way he won't keep in contact with you.

favorite section: fruit and vegetables section, and bakery section (he loves the smell of fresh ingredients).

what you usually hear from him: "sweetheart, just one more. It'll be the last, I promise"; "hope Tsum doesn't visit us today"

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[celestiamour]

ft. roderick heffley x f! reader — diary of a wimpy kid

╰₊✧ the alcohol made you do it, maybe the feelings too┊0.7k words

kinktober 2024: oct 6. intoxication

contains: smut!! dom reader & sub roderick┊slight dubcon due to intoxication, reader is a popular mean girl, roderick is whipped & whiny, unprotected piv, more plot than porn sorry

➤ author's note: how did roderick not have any maidens in the movies

“oh my god, could you be any fucking louder?!” you hissed. you couldn’t believe you were doing this, hooking up with a loser like roderick heffley. what would your friends think if they ever found out? they would probably exile you and tell everyone in the school, you’d never hear the end of it unless you moved to a different country or something.

“can help it,” he slurred, planting his face in between the valley of your breasts, “you’re so pretty…” everything about this altercation felt like a dream, so hammered that he couldn’t even think straight and in bed with one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen in his entire life. he wishes that he didn’t drink so much to remember this moment and treasure it, but he also knows that this wouldn’t have happened in the first place if he was any less buzzed.

all you could do was roll your eyes, but at least he was more quiet now that his moans were being muffled by your tits. the music blaring through the walls was loud, yet still not loud enough to drown out how noisy he was. this wasn’t something you typically did, but you were wasted and liked the way he looked at you, so here you were in his bed with his throbbing cock buried deep inside of you. 

“i can’t believe i’m doing this,” you sighed, rolling your hips into his and hearing him choke on a moan. “this is all your fault for throwing such a boring ass party.” his little brother and his friend managed to renew some of the fun, but they ended up falling asleep before midnight and the rest of the party was carried on by drunken antics. 

“‘m sorry…”

you let out a sound in exasperation at the pang of pity his apology left in your heart, gritting your teeth and closing your eyes for a moment so that you didn’t need to look at how pathetic he was. “it’s fine…” despite how cruelly you treated him at times, he was pretty easy on the eyes and not that bad of a fuck even if he’s clearly more inexperienced than you.

it’s actually kinda cute, you have to admit, how he looks up at you like you’re a goddess and touches you like he’s never seen a woman before. it gave you a rush of confidence that you’d never felt before, but in the end, he was just a hookup and this was the product of drinking too much. you don’t even get the satisfaction of “taming” the bad boy because he’s just some wannabe drummer of a shitty band whose music would make a deaf person beg for them to stop playing, one who chases skirts like a lost puppy and is known for being a flirt so terrible that not even the most desperate girls would be put off by his attempts of being cool.

and yet you’re still here on top of him, his hands digging into your thighs before you grab one of them by the wrist and direct them to rub at your clit, throwing him a bone by praising him for following your directions so obediently and feeling his cock twitch inside of you at your words. you could argue that it was the alcohol all you wanted, and maybe you have to thank it for initiating this contact, but you know deep down that it would have happened sooner or later whether or not you want to admit the infatuation growing over the past few years. you always acted as if you hated him when you truly hated his charm that shines through when he passionately plays his trash songs and his dopey smile every time you so much as looked his way.

you’ll think about all that later when you aren’t chasing your own orgasm and suffering from a banging headache. who knows, perhaps you’ll be able to coax a confession out of him and chalk it up to your friends as a pity date, they’ll believe it and probably encourage you to trick him into falling in love with you before breaking his heart. after all, you two are from completely different worlds, but you’ll make it work somehow.

[another-random-paradise]

hello! if you're up to it i've had this one idea in my head for a long time that i just need to see written out

basically maybe short drabbles/hcs about leona, jamil, and vil with a reader who, on days where they're tired, is super affectionate physically as in they might see him pass by in the hall and take his hand for a moment/just search for him to get a hug from him, or comes up to him randomly and puts their head on his shoulder — maybe even in a few classes if they're REALLY exhausted, tldr reader just needs some affection when they're tired and loves receiving physical affection </3

~ ☆

Thank you for this lovely request!! I’m the same haha, nothing like a good hug when your tired <3 also I am so so sorry you had to wait this long, I’ve had a lot going on lately,, I really hope I did the request justice <3

---------------------------------------------------------

Reader whose affectionate when tired

Characters: Leona, Jamil, Vil

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: None that I can think of

Leona

-Leona is in heaven

-or at least he thought he was at first

-After all, you being affectionate when tired, means more naps with you!

-except that, thanks to these naps, you aren't tired anymore, and don't seek his  affection as often anymore. And the lazy lion has already gotten so used to it, that he finds it annoying to sleep without it now.

-He'd much prefer you'd just constantly had the urge to nap, like him

-You'll find him grumbling to himself, whenever you don't feel as affectionate, just as you'll find him with a smug grin whenever you cuddle into him while he lazes around the botanical gardens 

-Jack once overheard Leona grumbling, with his tail swishing around angrily, and Jack was confused to say the least, seeing as how the lion was just grinning at you a few seconds ago

-turns out you just weren't all that tired that day, and, in Leonas opinion, didn't give him enough affection before running of - not that he'd ever admit that 

-overall he really loves your affectionate side and wouldn't mind seeing it more often

Jamil

-conflicted, to say the least

-he genuinely loves you and your affection, he really does, but he's got a lot of work and a kalim who he needs to keep alive-

-He has fallen into a sort of routine when you feel sleepy, which is to get you comfortably to sleep as soon as possible 

-If your at Scarabia, he'll bring you to a more secluded couch (you cannot tell me that those couches aren't as comfortable as can be), lay you down, maybe with some hot tea, and stay with you till you very quickly fall asleep

-if you're at school, he always has some sort of coffee at hand to wake you up, or something sugary if you don't drink coffee! he'll make sure it's still somewhat healthy though

-should you fall asleep on him in class, he'll take notes and asks questions for you. Occasionally just looks at you for a few moments, his grades need to be worse than Kalims anyway, so he can't completely partake in the class anyway

-If you get caught by a professor though, he'll just chuckle a bit. 

-You can get mad at him for not waking you up, but he doesn't regret anything, he'll treasure in any time spend with you, where he doesn't have to worry about Kalim.

-on the very VERY rare chance that he has a day off, he basks in your affection! He'll most likely need to catch up on all the sleep he lost to Kalims shenanigans, so you two will most likely be cuddling in his bed, or on one of the couches in an otherwise empty lounge

-Or, maybe, to make sure Kalim doesn't barge in and ruin the moment, the two of you are at ramshackle, after sending Grim to heartslabyul! 

-on rare occasions Grim does join you two, curling up next to you, while muttering something about Jamil stealing his henchmen. You three almost look like a family <3 

Vil

-At first, Vil was confused as to why you'd sometimes be so much more affectionate than normally, but very quickly figured out the pattern; The more tired you are, the more affection he gets.

-He'd be lying if he said he doesn't enjoy the affection, it feels nice to be wanted by someone he genuinely cares for, who genuinely cares for him.

-BUT he doesn't like you not getting enough sleep, what kind of lover would he be if he just lets you miss your needed beauty sleep?!

-Also, he is a busy person with a reputation to uphold; he can't exactly film a movie or brew a potion with your arms wrapped around him, no matter how cute you may look..

-He does Indulge you, letting you cling to him when he isn't as busy, or in between classes, but never without a light scold about the importance of proper sleep!

-If you're clingy for a longer period of time, for example a whole week, he'll try to find out why, and then help you; If you stressed because of a test, he'll help you study, if something is worrying you, he'll pull out all the tricks to help you relax, ect.

-If you're just lonely, well.. he supposes you can sleep over ever so often, as long as he still gets his much needed beauty rest

-The first time this happens, he realises how much better he sleeps with you next to him, how much better the both of you sleep! 

-It very quickly becomes routine; that way you'll get your affection when you're tired in the evenings, but the two can still follow your normal routine during the day!

-...though he does miss, the way you'd hug him from behind in the hallway, or the way you'd lay your head on his shoulder when Professor Trein was being particularly boring.. maybe letting you stay up longer when neither of you have anything important the next day would'nt be all that bad.. 

Once again, just so very sorry it took this long, I promise I didn’t make you wait on purpose, I’m always trying to reply and write as fast as possible <3

Feedback is welcome, just be nice please! Hope you have a wonderful night/day

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

Warnings: Language, past trauma, mentions wounds, ptsd, anxiety, panic, fluff, mentions hurt/comfort, and smut. Plus sized reader. NSFW!

A/N: I missed Eddie. I’m feeling quite down on my body type, so I kind of wrote this with my own body size in mind ❤️

~*~

Eddie Munson always said he didn’t care. Didn’t want to be a boyfriend. Wasn’t pissed off if girls didn’t cling onto him after their brief time together (usually late nights, quiet places). If they don’t want the freak, why would the freaky freak want them? Fuck love, it’s just a facade.

At least, that’s what he used to say until he met you in the Spring of 86. You were involved in Henderson’s little banded family unit, constantly being talked about even before Eddie saw you. He was a bit perturbed already. If you were close to Wheeler and Harrington, you were probably a snob. Quite the contrary, as Eddie remembers clearly, watching you quiet from the sidelines as he’d been told monsters were real, but not cool dragons or slayers — just a teenage girl with mind powers.

Gentle, but rough. You dove in before Wheeler to save Harrington, you jumped back into that disgusting hole in the floor to try and help wake Nancy up, and when it came down to battle? You wore your outfit without fear, and silently had reached for Eddie’s hand on the way to everyone’s stations, squeezing. He’d seen that face before, your vacant expression, a false smile you attempted when you were not in thought. You weren’t okay, but you had been trying to make it that way for everyone else.

And it wasn’t, not for a long time. Not after you lost, he died, Carver died, and Mayfield went into a coma. A fight occurred in Hawkins before he was brought back, one that Eddie still sees in your eyes when the sun goes down and it’s quiet in the trailer, sans the beeping of the smoke alarm. Sometimes you just bring him impossibly closer, that he isn’t sure whose body heat is causing him to perspire. And others, you wake up in his arms, pulling him on top, clinging to his neck, your lips panting pleas into his mouth that ask for help.

Mutual scars, tragedy, blame, regrets, trauma, you helping his recovery, his process, even when he wasn’t so nice, that he wished he’d stayed gone. It’s all there, things that he feels safe only sharing with you. His marked body, one he is comfortable letting only you feel, see. He isn’t sure when it happened, really. But he knows now, especially looking at you beside him, your necklaces hanging around your neck, their charms dangling between your breasts, one leg propped, the other flat, lying open, evidence of the previous half hour shining between your thighs, and he’s propped on his palm, blowing out the last of his cigarette smoke, stubbing out the end.

You’re reading a piece of his work in progress fantasy novel, one based off of things that have happened. You’re lost in his vivid descriptions, captivated by his words, led by the hand that holds his pen. And his enriching, dark eyes, they caving into blown pupils, his ring clad finger trailing down your shoulder, following the curvature into your elbow’s inside. You’re already smiling by the time that he reaches your neck, sucking the flesh into his mouth, trailing wet kisses over your jugular. His arm elongates, easing his creation from your grip to throw aside.

You pretend to huff, and he catches your mouth in a kiss. It’s sloppy, tastes of smoke, but it’s precise, it’s familiar, it’s Eddie. Your fingers slide through his curls, freshly washed, yet frizzed from previous humidity. You tug on his blood stained pick, and he knows your implications, follows your soft look. He has to tilt your chin, shaking his head. “Remember that I’m right here, sweetheart. All of me but one nipple.”

He treasures you by bestowing that trademark Munson smirk, making your brief panic ebb away to pleasure. And you cave you into him, permitting his fingers to slide against your cunt, cupping. It’s a whine in his mouth that gets him to slide an ankle beneath yours, pulling you open for more availability. You could have anyone, you could’ve had something going on with Steve. But it’s Eddie you go to bed with every night, it’s he that you spend hours talking to on the phone when you’re not together, it’s him who holds you when you have a nightmare, and it’s Eddie Munson that you’ve already given your heart to, unbeknownst to him.

He’s falling into your grip, trying to situate himself, amused as he asks. “Already? Can you take it —“

And he goes head over ass, world Olympics type shit when you manage to maneuver him onto his back, unafraid, sat on top him in all over your glory. Your curves overflow, breasts sitting heavy, begging to be touched. You reach behind you, taking him in your hand. He’s nodding like an eager ass, little nerdy beaver. He could giggle right now. Your pupils are blown to the brim of your irises, a look of lavish possessiveness sweeping across him, and holy fuck does he feel sexy.

He doesn’t have to verbalize his consent, his brazen ‘take me now’ appears in the form of his hands reaching for your tits. You groan upon him getting a handful (and Christ, they still won’t fit). It’s a burning stretch, but you slide down his cock in moments, ones that Eddie holds his breath for, only able to gasp when you’re seated fully, sticky and spread around him.

He cares. He cares so much.

You grasp onto his wrists, clenching around him as he gives you two words, “Go, baby.” And then your hands are dropping to dig into his chest, thumbs beneath his chain, in newly grown out hair along his sternum, making scars feel like warrior wounds he’s proud to own.

You look at, leveling off his hands before they can drop from your breasts, pressing down so that he gets the message to grip tighter.

Fuck. He’s in love. He’s in love with you.

[luveline]

i can’t stop thinking about dating aaron hotchner and making a comment about how he’s beekeeping age and he’s like ??? i’m sorry what??

fem!reader

"Have I been in the news recently?" 

You squeeze Aaron's hand in yours and take a luxurious sip of your fancy drink. If there's one thing about Aaron, he's always buying you something nice to drink on days like today. "No?" you say after swallowing. "Don't think so." 

Aaron looks over your head. He's paranoid, with reason to be, but as far as either of you know he hasn't been in the press lately. 

"What are you looking at?" you ask. 

"They won't look when you're looking. Is there something wrong with my hair?" 

"Who's looking at you?" you ask, coming to a stop in the middle of the long walkway. You put your bag down on a low bench and twist to follow his gaze until you catch the wandering eye of a woman your age. She looks away when you spot her, a tell-tale hunch to her shoulders. "Ah." 

"Ah?" he asks. 

Aaron is tall, dark, and handsome. He doesn't seem to know this. He's nearly always frowning as he is now, but the formidable, intimidating aspect of him is somewhat softened when he's out in civilian clothing, a Starbucks drink in his free hand, and your hand treasured in the other. 

"You're, like…" You shrug at him. "You're beekeeping age." 

"I'm what?" 

"You know. You look like someone, a man, who spends his free time keeping bees. You look like you have a good job, and you're handsome." You offer him a sip of your fruity drink. He takes a sip, all the while looking lost. "I don't know how to explain it but I know it's what they're thinking." 

"So this is one of those jokes I'm too old to understand." 

"Not too old. Old enough to keep bees, evidently." 

"I really don't get it." 

"You're hot, Hotchner. Grow up." He laughs and takes another sip of your drink uninvited. You attempt to take it from him and he follows the straw. "Stop! I need this to last at least until we've finished window shopping." 

"You know I'll just buy you another one." He takes your bag and hooks it over his arm, pulling you in the direction of the next store. "After Barnes and Nobles. I could keep bees, couldn't I?" 

"No, because what all these women don't know is that you aren't home the majority of the month. You keeping bees will turn into me keeping bees, and I, regrettably, am not beekeeping age." 

"See, you made out that it was about the hobby itself," Aaron says, giving you a fond look, "but what I'm hearing now is that it's more to do with my age." 

"It's to do with wanting to sleep with you. Your age is a contributing factor to how attractive you are." 

"Nice save," he murmurs, giving your hand a squeeze. 

It's not a save at all. He really is more attractive for how old he is, but he's free to think you're lying. It's probably best if he doesn't understand the full extent of his charm —you spend the rest of the day fending off brave women with an icy glare. 

[readychilledwine]

What Once Was Lost

Rhysand Week Day Three - Loved Ones

Summary - Your baby shower should have been the happiest day of your and Cassian's life, but you and Rhysand just can't shake the feeling that something, or someone(s), is missing

Warnings - Loss of parents and siblings, discussion of mourning and grief, brother/sister bonding moment, pregnancy, angst, fluff, implied favoritism from a parental figure

A/N - Happy @officialrhysandweek day 3. Rhysand's love language towards his family screams gifts. I had something like this planned for a girl dad Cassian fic, but doing it with Rhysand just felt so right as things flowed together. I was pretty excited for this to be a prompt for this week because it gave me an excuse to finally write, revamp, and post this.

✨️Rhysand Week Masterlist✨️Rhys Masterlist✨️Master Masterlist✨️

You were being irrational.

At least you repeated that to yourself over and over as you hid on the balcony. This should have been one of the happiest days of your life. A baby shower to celebrate the life you and Cassian had made after many centuries of trying and trying with no results. Yet, you found yourself a mess of tears and makeup, face buried in your hands and you cried. 

Every celebration came with a feeling of emptiness. It always had and for some reason, you felt it always would. It had been years since the night you woke up to your father's pained screams, since he then clinged to you, holding his last remaining baby girl for dear life, then you lost him too.

You wanted to move on, yet you still felt stagnated, unable to move forward. Something was missing today. Someone. Multiple someones, actually. Your mother, your big sister, your father despite his cruelty. It seemed like a joke to be celebrating without them.

The door opened and shut softly, followed by the scent of salty citrus, “Sister! There you are," Rhysand's face fell as he saw you crying. "Is it that bad,” he asked gently. “Did I mess up planning this that badly? Is it the cake? The white? I promise its-”

“It's not any of that, no,” you interjected. “I- its.”

“Oh.” He knew. Rhysand knew. He had felt it on his own wedding day, after the birth of his own son, after every milestone he accomplished. “You know they would want you happy-”

Those words made you sob harder, hugging yourself tightly. You felt this level of mourning wasn't healthy after so many years, so many heartaches, but it was as if your life had adapted and grown around the murders of your mother and big sister instead of moving on from it.

“Y/n, the depth of your mourning does not determine how much you loved them. What determines that is how we honor them.” Rhysand moved to lean next to you on the wall, “And have we done that. We've changed things mother felt would remain the same until the end of time, we rebuilt the Rainbow in honor of Stel, we ensured their stories were heard, written into the Night Court's history. We even honored our father through alliances, trade, and the crowns we wear.” 

He wiped his own eyes before continuing, “We've honored them by becoming the male and female they expected us to be. By becoming the husband and wife to our partners that they expected us to be. By loving each other and pushing each other to be better the way they expected us to. We've honored them by being happy, by cherishing each other. You, my starlight, have been my treasure since they left us.”

You only smiled slightly, “Until you had Nyx.” Your nephew, your light. He was the source of happiness for the Inner Circle you all had never seen coming. He had spun everyone's world, but mostly Rhysand's. Nyx filled a void with his sweet squishy face and bright blue eyes filled with wonder and joy.

“No,” your brother said the word with such gentleness but firmly. “You are still my treasure. My son is my world. And when i see you with him, I feel complete.” He meant that. You could tell by the little look of pride he had.

The transition from Rhysand as a full-time workaholic to almost stay at home dad had been a rough one, but one he would not undo. Feyre practically ran the Night Court now, while Rhysand enjoyed a life of fatherhood and solitude unless necessary. No one outside of the Inner Circle knew that fact, of course, but slowly, they would.

“Nyx will reshape the world some day,” his hand moved to rest on your stomach, his body moving to face you as it did, “And this little life you a carrying, this little being who is already so celebrated, so loved, who has already brought so much joy, this is his sibling. The closest thing he will ever have with Feyre's choice to never have a child again.”

Rhysand's hand felt your bump, trying to find where the soul growing inside of you was resting. “It's time to stop the circle of grief, dear sister,” he made you look at him. “To live. To love freely. To hold tight to the things we both cherish most. You are carrying the greatest blessing you could ever give this family.”

His eyes were still on that swell of life, a soft smile as he thought out his future niece or nephew, “Two more months,” you reminded him. “You can hold them in two more months.”

“It's forever,” he pouted before placing both hands on your tummy. “Have you two picked names?”

You could only nod as you two held eye contact. You searched those comforting eyes for any sign or hint of the gender you'd be giving birth to. He was the only one who knew the gender of the baby, information he carried so close to his heart he had not even told Feyre. You and Cassian had wanted to be surprised at birth, but your mate's anticipation made it impossible to wait 61 more days.

Rhysand had planned this whole party around that fact. The garden was filled with white flowers. The house had white linens and decorations. He’d gone as far as having enchanted white flowers spread throughout Velaris. 

After the overly extravagant dinner being served, you and Cassian would be moved under the flower arch he'd constructed with Elain. Then, when you both indicated you were ready, the flowers would change to pink or blue. Cassian, Feyre, Eris, and Azriel were all supporting pink, praying for a sweet baby girl. You were in black, matching your brother, in a silent message that you both wanted healthy. Mor, Amren, Elain, Nesta, and Lucien all Sported accents of blue, using old fisher wife stories to say you were carrying a baby boy. 

Rhysand pulled your mind back to the present, to him, with a soft kiss on your forehead. “You look so much like Mother. When I miss her, I look at you and find peace and comfort. I am reminded of the way she looked at me because your eyes look at me the same.” 

He hugged you the best he could, letting there be silence as your tears finally stopped. Rhysand had dedicated his life to Velaris, to the found family you two shared, to you. Your heart and mind knew that dedication would pass to this baby, to raising them to be strong willed, confident, humbled. “People are waiting for us,” he whispered into your hair. “Your husband is waiting for you two. Let's go eat.”

It was a gentle pull of your hand, bringing you to the center spot of the table next to Cassian. Lamb, chicken, prime rib. Rhys had spared no expense to make sure this day was special for you, and the meal filled with all your favorite proteins and sides was proof of that. Food was enjoyed with laughter, final wagers placed between the Inner Circle and Vanserras. 

The time had finally come, faelights guiding you and Cassian to where Rhysand wanted you to stand. Smaller lights had been woven into the arch made from roses, peonies, and wisteria. 

Cassian was a ball of energy, smile growing as he held both of your hands, “Ready, starlight?” 

“Ready,” you confirmed, and before your eyes, shades of pink filled the garden. Pink daisies, pink roses, pink asters and tulips. It bathed the room in promises of gentleness, compassion, beauty, and kindness, the qualities your mother and father raised you to have as Princess of the Night Court. Qualities Rhysand had continued to teach you long after their deaths. 

Cassian lifted you immediately, crying as he held you against him, mumbling into your neck how you had honored him. How you were giving him the most precious thing he'd ever have. Whispering his promises to protect her, to love her, to be a good father to his angel.

The celebration in garden was slowly drowned out by the loud party that had erupted through the streets of Velaris. Fireworks going off, music playing at the highest volume, bells chiming from the temple. The only sign of something different was the wisteria, fading to its soft purple shade, your older sister's favorite flower, your mother's favorite color. Rhys made a confused face at the sight of it before smiling. 

“That's not supposed to be happen,” Feyre seemed almost panicked, moving to fix them.

Rhysand grabbed her hand, stopping her in her tracks, “That's my mother and sister,” he said quietly. “They're letting us know they're here.”

“How would your dad indicate he's here,” Feyre joked. 

Rhysand only pointed to where a crow sat watching from the tree. Its dark eyes were on you and you alone as the Inner Circle rushed to take turns holding you and Cassian as you both cried out of joy. “Same way he watched her when she was little. Always playing favorites.”

Rhys moved to you then, playfully pushing Cassian away to take his turn. “You have my blessing,” the sentence needed no further details, no explanation. He was letting you use your mother's name. Your lip began to tremble, Cassian nodded as he and Rhysand looked at each other. “I can't wait to meet sweet little Astra."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[youuuimeanmee]

This chapter might be the start of literally the biggest thing ever and I'm SCARED.

I have SHIVERS.

Almost every important characters are gathering in one place.

Our Eden kids are finally playing outside the school.

For a spy like Twillight, this festival is literally a treasure of intels.

(Though, I was surprised when Twillight mention that Glooman Pharmaceuticals has no further connection with the Desmonds. I thought it's gonna be involved in some kind of drugs' development for war, but ig I was wrong.)

Remember how Twillight always look down on Anya because she can't study, she's hard to teach, and she doesn't excell in any sport or any other talents (except classical language)?

Now look at them.

Twillight finally sees just how valuable Anya is. How much Anya, a presumably six-year-old, has accomplished in the span of 6 months. I repeat. 6. months.

He's pleased because it's really convenient for his mission.

And yet, look at what Jeff wished for the kids.

The irony. The sweet, sweet irony.

As much as it pains him to acknowledge how right Jeff's words are, he cannot. He cannot dwell into such sentiments, because he's a spy. A spy must seize every opportunity to gain any information neccesary for his mission. For the sake of his goal; a world peace. For that goal, he will do anything. Even if he has to use his "daughter" and his "wife" for his own convenience.

Because of that, the very least he could to them is protect their well-being and happiness.

Twillight has established that since long ago. But will things change after this arc? That is the big question.

Now we are entering, what I call, "the fortune teller arc." (until we get a better name imma stick to this one.)

Somehow, in every series I've read that has a fortune teller in it, it ended up changes (read: fucks up) the MC's life forever.

I've been predicting the involvement of Crowley in the future; from his name reference, his hairstyle, his excellence in Classical language, everything.

Look whose name Endo uses for the most popular fortune teller.

Heh.

(will Arnold Crowley appear in next chapter? Will he meet Anya in this arc?)

And look at the star of this chapter, who also plays as a fortune teller!

Melinda Desmond.

Who would've thought.

Suddenly, her earrings and ring's design make so much sense.

Is it safe to say now that Crowley and Melinda Desmond are occultists?

Or maybe just one of them?

I know jumping to conclusion is dangerous, but I just can't help it.

I still can't speak if Melinda and Crowley family are related to each other because there's no evidence of their relation (yet). But I can at least tell you this:

Melinda probably uses fortune telling as a way to collect informations. Her ad speaks for poor, desperate people. She doesn't charge her clients for a single cent. Even if she already claimed that her predictions are way off, it doesn't matter for desperate people. Desperate people will use desperate means. Poor people are not poor because they wanted to. There must be a reason, a circumstances; that intel is probably what Melinda aims to get.

Or maybe I was wrong. Maybe Melinda is genuinely a noble person, and she's just trying to help as many people as possible with her "free" fortune telling. Who knows.

Though, it is peculiar to note that Melinda only started recently. How recent, I wonder. Is it before, or after the dinner she had with Donovan, her husband?

Hmmm.

I'm also curious at Endo's reference for Melinda's alias: Lunaluna Selena. Luna, as in, Latin for [the moon]? Selena, as in, Selene [the Greek & Roman's moon goddess]?

The moon, huh. Remember how Anya's power is heavily reliant on the moon? Like, she lost her power when it's a new moon?

Hmmmmm.

TLDR; Anya confessed to Damian that she can read minds. Now Anya enters a fortune teller place. Twillight used to underestimate Anya's ability a lot. Now he sees how valuable she is, yet, he is stuck between his logic (wanting to utilize her to the max) and his heart (wanting to free her from the burden of his mission and let her be a happy normal kid). Melinda and Yor are friends. Now they meet again, when Melinda is doing her side hustle. Arnold Crowley is a kid who excels in Classical Language, and holds a great interest in Anya. Now we see that Crowley family runs a popular fortune-teller. Melinda just had an awful dinner with Donovan. Now we see that she recently run a fortune-telling stall for free. Almost all important characters in SxF are gathering in one place. All build-ups are seemingly leading towards this moment.

Let's give Endo some space & time to cook, shall we.

[feirceangel]

Imagine | Lost (Zoro)

Imagine getting lost with Zoro.

Word Count: 1,604

Warnings: hurt/comfort

~

(Gif is not mine!)

Things haven't gone according to plan. Of course, that's the norm when you're traveling with Luffy and the rest of the Strawhats. Each crew member has their own quirks, but sometimes everyone manages to stay relatively on track.

Except for Zoro.

The green haired swordsman is notorious for his directional challenges. He even gets lost on his own ship, that's how hopeless his sense of direction is.

So, when everyone splits up to search for the current treasure of the day, you watch with a chuckle as Zoro immediately storms off in the wrong direction.

Huffing with laughter, you race to catch up with him. You trail beside him until he notices and raises a brow at you.

"Huh, what're you doing? We're supposed to split up."

"Oops," you grin at him, chuckling at his exasperated sigh.

He doesn't stop walking, "Go away."

"No."

"I'm serious.”

"Whatcha gonna do? Stick me with your big sword?" You hide your laugh behind your hand as his ears turn beet red.

"If you're gonna follow me, at least shut your mouth," he grumbles.

Smirking at your victory, you subtly start walking a bit closer to him, eyes roaming the area for any potential threats or treasures.

If he notices how close you are, he doesn't comment. He's also on the lookout for danger, hand resting idly on the hilt of his sword.

You've always admired how ready for a fight his is- never letting his guard down. Even when he's 'napping', he's still paying attention to his surroundings.

You've tried a few times to prank him when you thought he was fast asleep but failed every single time. He seems to be able to sense your proximity every time you get within five meters of him.

Even now, as you walk in close proximity, you can't help but admire him. His tall posture and alert eyes that peer  into the forest. His soft green hair slightly tousled from the wind.

"You're staring," his voice bears a tinge of smugness, making you whip your head the opposite way.

"Was not."

"Was too."

"I wasn't. I don't know why you'd even think that," you cross your arms and turn to look at him again. "Not like there's much to look at."

Your tone and smirk betray your lies, Zoro unable to stop from smirking along with your teasing.

"Really? Nothing at all?"

"Of course, I'd never ogle at you and your well trained muscles."

He smirks, turning away from you.

It's been like this since you were welcomed into the Strawhat Crew, easy banter between you and the swordsman. After you had proven your loyalty to Luffy that is. You believe Zoro values loyalty above all else.

Zoro had warmed up to you more than he had some of the others.

There'd been an unspoken tension between you: lingering glances and touches mingled with flirtatious words and playful gestures.

He'd let you drag him into drinking contests (which you always lost), nap beside him, and even join his workouts.

And you'd always tease him (backing off immediately when you noticed that he had enough), and steered him in the right direction when he got horribly lost.

Like right now.

"Zoro, I'm pretty sure we have to go left here," you point out.

"I knew that," he grumbles and alters his course. "I was just scouting the area."

"Uh-huh."

"I was!"

Laughing, you hop onto a large fallen tree that blocks your path. You turn to taunt Zoro a bit more, but you pause as a loud shot rings out.

Sudden pain shoots through your leg as blood splatters around you. You crumble down off the log, saved from a hard landing by strong arms.

Stunned, you look up into Zoro's eyes.

"You're alright," he says firmly as he sets you down against the tree. "It just got you in the leg."

Dumbly, you stare into his face, barely registering his words or his angered expression.

"You stay here and I'll be right back."

You nod, unable to do much more. As you watch him leave, you meekly call out to him, "Don't you dare get lost."

~

He didn't get lost, to your immense surprise.

By now, the shock has worn off and the pain has really kicked in. The bullet went straight through the meat of your leg, luckily not shattering bone. But you will need Chopper to get a better look and bandage it properly.

Right now you're using a strip of your shirt as a makeshift bandage and it's already soaked through. As Zoro does a second assessment.

"You're fine."

You glare at him, "I'm in pain."

"You'll live."

"Good thing, cause if I didn’t I'd haunt your ass!"

Shaking his head, he crouches in front of you, "Can you walk at least?"

You level a deadpan stare at him.

He sighs heavily, "Guess I'll just have to carry you then."

"No, no way."

"It's either that or you walk."

"You need your hands to fight in case there's more enemies," you reason. "Can't use your swords if you're carrying me."

"I'll just set you down."

"No, you'd drop me. And I don't want to be dropped right now," you fire back.

He stands up straight and glares down at you.

"What if you carry me on your shoulders?" You suggest. "That way your arms will be free and you can still fight."

"Fine," he agrees.

You wince as you stand on your uninjured leg, motioning for him to bend down so you can get your legs on his shoulders. He obliges and you precariously manage to seat yourself on his shoulders.

He stands without a problem, steadying you with one hand on your thigh.  Pain floods your sense for a second but it is quick to fade as you realize something.

You realize the extent of the compromising position you've put yourself in.

You're on top of Zoro's shoulders, hands on his head to steady yourself as he grips your thigh with his broad hand.

You flush with embarrassment. Beneath you, you can see the dusting of a blush across Zoro's ears and cheeks.

"Thank you for this," you say, unsure of what to do with your hands. The desire to run your fingers through his hair is immense and it takes all your will power to not act on it.

"I appreciate it, Zoro."

He grunts, "Just don't get injured again and we'll call it even."

"Hey, I didn't wanna be shot!"

"You made yourself an easy target!"

"I thought we were alone!"

"You should've known better!"

"I can't believe you're blaming me right now," you say in exasperating. "By the way, you're going north and the ship is to the south."

He grumbles beneath you but does switch his course to follow where you pointed. You wince every so often as he jostles you.

"Sorry," he says, very uncharacteristically.

Surprised, you lean over to stare into his face.

"For what?"

"I should've sensed that sniper but I was distracted," he grits his teeth in annoyance. "If I had seen him, you wouldn't have been hurt."

"Distracted?" You raise a brow, "You were distracted?"

"Don't-"

"Was it me that distracted you?" You grin, forgetting your pain. "Were you perhaps staring at me?"

"Forget I said anything."

"Too late! Admit it, you were checking me out."

His delightful blush is back in full force, "Was not! I was making sure you didn't fall."

You pat his cheek, "Well, you did catch me when I fell. And I guess I fell for you."

He stumbles slightly, making you laugh and cry out in pain at the same time.

"Watch your step Rorozo," you smack him lightly on the head.

"Don't call me that."

"Never," you run your hand over his hair, "I think you secretly like it."

He doesn't say anything and neither do you. Despite your injury, you are enjoying the moment of closeness between you and the swordsman.

It's moments like these that lighten your heart and bring a smile to your face.

His hand shifts over your thigh, "Maybe I do like it. This."

"Me?" You add softly, tracing patterns through his soft hair.

"Maybe."

"Well, maybe I do too," you bend down and press a kiss to his forehead. "Like you."

His hand tightens on your leg, his other hand coming up to caress your hair in a rare display of physical affection.

"Y'know, Sanji's gonna faint when he sees us like this," you chuckle, imagining his reaction.

"Maybe that stupid love-cook will finally leave you alone."

"Sanji? Stop fawning over a drop dead gorgeous woman? It's unlikely."

Zoro reads his head up to try and glare at you, making you wince as you jolt your injured leg.

"Don't worry Rorozo- I only have eyes for you."

At that confession, he stops in his tracks.

"That's it."

He lowers you to the ground, your confusion growing. Weren't you both on the same page just a second ago?

You're not on the ground for long though, as Zoro picks you up bridal-style and stares into your eyes.

"When you say things like that," he tsks, "I want to shut you up."

Before you can ask what he means, he presses his lips against yours, hard.

He breaks away far too soon, “That’s better.”

“If that’s how you’re gonna do it, you can shut me up anytime,” you grin, lean your head against him.

Wrapped up in his warm embrace, you’ve forgotten all about the pain in your leg…

Or the fact that Zoro is once again walking in the wrong direction.

[bagopucks]

J. Hughes - Mine All Mine

✄————————————

Jack Hughes x Fem!reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 1.6k

Warning(s): Relationship insecurities, minor angst

—————————————

Nobody embodied black cat and golden retriever like Jack and I. Heart warming and full of wonder clashed in a crunchy harmony with indifference and a guarded personality. Jack had an innocence that made him special. I sometimes wondered just how blind he was to the cruelties of the world, but I never dared to ruin that part of him. I envied Jack in only the way a girlfriend could. I wished I could see the world the way he did, and yet I knew I never would. My mind had been tainted by past and present. By reality and technology. While Jack seemed so perfectly protected from the atrocities of life, I seemed to always encounter them.

I saw Jack as an angel. Heaven sent. Myself? I was merely a tainted soul who’d gotten lost on the way to hell. My darkness made his light all the more prominent.

“I love that movie!” His loud voice carried across the venue. I peered over my glass of wine toward a table full of seated men and women. Jack was always so social. Especially at parties. Despite my love for weddings, I was not as outwardly jovial. I had a subtle adoration for things. A solemn love. I liked to sit and observe, and enjoy things alone. At least that was the way I had been before Jack. He was one of the only people who had ever been able to breach my walls.

People often told Jack he was too loud, how amusing was it that I was one of the only people who loved his volume. His expressiveness.

Though I did not crack a smile, my eyes lingered. And my heart thudded. Jack looked amazing. I prayed for the day that we too could be like the couple sitting alone enjoying a meal with fresh rings on their fingers, preparing to lay up our treasures together in our new home. My eyes locked with the woman next to Jesper. Our lingering gazes broke when her lips parted, and the distain in the woman’s expression spoke volumes despite her whispers.

I was not blind to the general disliking people took to me. Nobody ever understood how Jack and I were together, or how we worked. People were open about their disinterest in our relationship. A disrespectful and hurtful thing in many ways. But I had never been one to express my pain that others inflicted. I understood their concern, and yet it hurt all the same.

In truth, I too questioned my relationship with Jack. I feared I brought him down. I feared being with him did the exact opposite of what I swore to do when I chose to love him. I feared I held his wonder back.

I watched the woman’s distain shift into disgust. Jack seemed to reply to her words, but I could barely focus on him when she looked so… displeased. My heart sank. People often said I did not try hard enough to make Jack happy, and that was an easy factor to believe if nobody ever saw us in private. Though at first I used to scoff and roll my eyes, the more it was said, the more I began to believe.

I lost interest in the expensive wine I held, placing the glass down harder than I expected on the table. Maroon liquid rained down stop the white tablecloth. Smoothing out the wrinkles in my dress before I stood, I drew in a steadying breath. I needed a break from the party.

I found my way to the back of the large venue, pushing open one of the doors into the hallway. A cold gust of air hit my bare shoulders, causing me to shiver. The crowd inside the reception hall had made the room fairly hot. I did not expect the major temperature change.

My pace slowed as I found myself in a safer space, out of the vision of prying gazes. I strolled down the hall, my eyes settling on the strings of photos of the bride and groom. I envied how wide the bride seemed to make the groom smile in every photo. I never had that effect on Jack. I was not hilarious or quick witted. I had no great jokes, and even my accidents were never humorous. Of course Jack would argue, but I never agreed with him. Was I everything Jack needed? Or was everyone right? My heart hurt at the idea. Was I holding Jack back? Another shiver caused my hands to wrap around my own body. I rubbed my arms in hopes of warming up, my eyes locking on a photo of the beautiful couple at the last All Stars red carpet. Even in public, the bride could put on a show. Emotional loneliness quickly snuck up on me. Jack never had to worry about being unfulfilling in our relationship. Nobody questioned if he was doing enough. Nobody judged him. He didn’t understand. Nobody did.

“It’s freezing out here.” The loneliness only deepened at the sound of his voice. I was so enveloped in my own mind that I didn’t truly register Jack’s presence until he was draping his suit jacket over my shoulders, and wrapping his arms around my frame. I leaned into his chest, instinctually.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you are tonight?” Jack always knew how to settle in my presence. As much as I loved his loud and energetic side, I loved his quiet and sweet side even more. Jack surprised me with how intimate he could make almost any situation. Even this, standing together in solemn silence, feet away from a room full of people.

“Jack,” I spoke in return, turning my head to rest my cheek on his shoulder.

“I know.” He whispered. “I always know.” He didn’t always have the right things to say, but Id give him credit for knowing what to say about 90% of the time. I stood silently in his arms, uncertain of how to respond. How to open up. “Jesper’s girlfriend doesn’t know shit.” He broke the silence, “She doesn’t know you.” Addressing the topic never seemed to make it better. At least not in the moment. Tears threatened to ruin my maskera. “It’s just talk. That’s all it ever is. They don’t know you.” His grip tightened on me, and I shook my head. I would never see myself the way Jack saw me.

“What if everybody’s right? What if you’re just blind to my flaws because you think you love me?” I whispered, averting my gaze to the ceiling in a feeble attempt to avoid shedding any tears.

“Baby, I’m not blind to your flaws. I know you have ‘em, and I love every single one. But don’t you ever think that your personality is a flaw.” I tensed as Jack’s arms released me from their grip, but I allowed him to spin me around so we could stand face to face. His warm hand gently cupped my jaw, and I found myself yearning to be perfect for him. Wishing that I could be more deserving of the man in front of myself.

“Everybody tells me I’m too loud, and everybody tells you that you’re too quiet. We just balance each other out, eh?” He flashed a tiny grin in my direction. “There’s always gonna be haters, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I love you.” I finally mustered the ghost of a smile, blinking to try and rid of the tears quickly.

“Even when I’m antisocial?” I prodded softly, maybe to boost my own ego. I reached upwards to wipe my tears, only for Jack to grab my hand and wipe them for me.

“Your silence is so hot.” I found amusement in his words, as well as embarrassment. I felt heat rise to my cheeks as an involuntary laugh parted my lips. “There’s my girl.” Jack brushed a lock of hair behind my ear, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “Proving everybody wrong one grin at a time.” The brunette grabbed ahold of my other hand, taking a backwards step and urging me to follow with a gentle tug. “Come dance with me. Please. I’ve wanted to get you in my arms all night.”

How could a woman feel any more wanted?

“Let me love you, please.”

How could a woman say no?

“My love..” I whispered, reluctant to move.

“In front of everyone else.” Jack insisted. “I want them to know I’m happy.” His words took the breath from my lips. The tears returned, but for more positive reasons.

“You’re happy,” I echoed as a gentle reminder to myself.

“I’ve never been happier.” I finally relented, moving along with Jack back through the hallway. Alongside him, I felt much less anxious about being observed by the crowd. I avoided their gazes as we entered the reception hall once more, hand in hand. Jack led me effortlessly toward the dance floor, at a steady but comfortable pace. I refused to allow my eyes to leave his frame, even as he pulled me into the middle of the floor, enveloping me in his arms all over again. The embrace was warm and safe. I rested my head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as he slowly began to sway. I allowed his movements to shift my own body, closing my eyes to take it all in.

“Fuck ‘em all.. yeah?” Jack whispered in my ear. I chuckled.

“I like that.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ 𝕒 𝕘𝕚𝕣𝕝 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕞𝕖 ♡

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!jeongin x girlfriend!chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: fluff/comfort

♡ Summary: Jeongin's the type of boyfriend who never makes you question how much he cares for you. Still, there's one nagging insecurity you haven't been able to move past: Letting him see you naked. Sick of letting your fear get the best of you, you decide that tonight's the night to finally open up to him and it turns out you might've been afraid of nothing all along.

♡ Word Count: 2.1k-ish

♡ Warnings: body insecurities, nudity, a lil making out, mentions of sex, jeongin loves to touch your body, praise, and just all around fluffiness otherwise

♡ A/N: This started out as an anon request but I lost the post for that request (brb crying) so now we have a lil I.N comfort fic that will hopefully make my chubby Jeongin biased babes feel good in their skin cause you totally deserve to.

Moments like these Jeongin wishes could last forever. Between touring, appearances, and studio sessions his schedule’s been brutal lately, leaving him with little to no time to spend with the one girl he treasures most in the world—you. But tonight none of that matters. The world beyond the walls of his apartment doesn’t exist. There’s only him cozied up under a blanket on the couch with you cuddled against his body, your head resting on his chest as you lazily play with the strings of his hoodie.

The room’s dark except for the glow of the television. A movie’s playing but neither of you are truly watching it. His eyes are glued to you, committing to memory how beautiful you are from this angle. You seem so comfortable in his arms, so at peace, and the feeling’s infinitely mutual. 

Your own gaze is fixed on the screen but every image and sound you take in is passive. What you’re truly focused on is a thought that’s been cycling through your brain all night. Before you left to head over here you told your roommate not to wait up, you’d be spending the night at Jeongin’s place. Never one to pass up the opportunity to tease you, she asked if you needed to borrow a sweater or something to sleep in. You instantly regretted admitting to her over drinks that Jeongin has yet to see you naked, even after months of being together.

Whenever you have sex you keep the lights off and throw your clothes back on immediately after. If you shower and he’s around you always make sure to bring your clothes with you into the bathroom. Even Jeongin, who never wears anything to bed, always has something on when you sleep over to make you more comfortable. 

It’s nothing he’s ever complained about or tried to make you feel guilty for. More than anything he just seems happy to be with you, accepting your boundaries without hesitation. It’s one of a million reasons you’ve come to love him as much as you do. Still, you know that hiding from him isn’t something you can do forever. It isn’t something that you want to do forever.

“Baby” he says sweetly, petting your cheek, “You ready for bed?”

You take a deep breath, making up your mind that tonight’s the night. Your stomach sinks at the thought of how he might feel when he sees your body but at least you’ll know now before you fall for him any harder.

“Mmhmm” you nod, nuzzling your cheek against his chest one last time before sitting up. 

Jeongin hops up and gets to work clearing the snacks from the coffee table. With full hands, he leans down to plant the softest kiss on your lips. “You can go ahead. I’ll meet you in there in a second, okay?” 

You agree and gather the blanket in your arms, trembling as you shuffle down the hall towards the bedroom. It’s a short walk but it feels eternal. You’ve stepped through this threshold a dozen times by now but somehow this feels like your first. Suddenly the oversized hoodie and baggy sweatpants that once shielded your insecurities have you sweating like a sinner in church. It’s suffocating.

Tossing the blanket onto the bed, you tug your hoodie off to feel the fresh air kiss your skin. The coolness eases the tension in your body, leaving your hands a bit less shaky as you slip your sweatpants down and kick them aside. You stare down at your body, taking in the sight of your bare legs and your fluffy thighs that are just barely visible in the long t-shirt you’re wearing.

Your chest tightens as you pinch the bottom of your shirt, lifting the fabric little by little. It slides above your thighs, around the contours of your hips, revealing the panties you chose specifically for tonight. They’re silk, rose pink, with a lace trim and a delicate bow in the back and they’re the prettiest panties Jeongin’s ever seen simply because you’re wearing them. 

“Did I, uh, miss something?” Jeongin asks, frozen in the doorway.

Usually when he walks into the room you’re already under the covers waiting for cuddles he’s beyond eager to give you. Being met with this is something new entirely and he can’t help the way his heart races at the sight of it. You turn to find him staring at you wide eyed, shock painting his face. 

“Well, uh, I…” you stutter, fidgeting with the trim of your shirt, “I know you don’t really like sleeping with your clothes on and the weather’s really nice tonight so I thought, maybe, it’d be nice if we did that.” 

Jeongin closes the distance between you, his shock melting into concern. He brings an arm around your waist, stroking your side as he studies your expression.

“Baby, I already told you I’m cool with our clothes being on. I never want you to do anything you don’t want to.”

You rest your hand on his, soaking in the warmth of his touch. “It’s okay” you insist, immediately picking up on his skepticism. He doesn’t believe you for a second. You stare into his eyes, finding comfort in them even as they narrow in your direction. “I want you to see me, all of me, I don’t wanna be afraid anymore.”

“Afraid? Afraid of what? Did I…”

You cut him off before he can finish, refusing to let him believe for a second that there’s anything he did wrong. “No, Innie, you’re so good to me. It's just…I’m not the smallest girl. Feeling me is one thing but seeing me it’s…it’s…”

Your breath hitches at the sensation of Jeongin’s hands massaging your body. He smooths the plushness of your figure beneath his palms, stopping to squeeze your love handles, your belly, your thighs.

“Seeing you would be a gift” he whispers, his lips hovering near yours. “I’ve felt your body in the dark and I’m already addicted to how beautiful it is. If you take your clothes off or not, nothing will change. I promise.”

There’s no denying the rush that you get from being touched by him. You feel it every time, the impulse to let him tear your clothes off. The longing to feel his gaze dance over your naked body the way his hands do. Typically you fight it, your fears dulling your urges, but tonight you don’t. Instead you sweep him into a kiss laced with passion, guiding his hands to grip the fabric of your shirt. 

“Help me take it off, please” you beg, too cute to deny.

Jeongin nibbles at your bottom lip, “Only if you help me too.”

“Deal” you giggle as he steals your breath away, hungrily pulling you back into the kiss.

Your clothes are shed gently and slowly like the petals of a flower. One after the other, his and then yours. All the while Jeongin’s lips are drawn to yours like magnets. Every break he has to take is a small form of torture. You could kiss him every second of every day and it wouldn’t be enough. He needs to drown in it.

He can only bring himself to stop when he feels skin to skin contact. Your naked body’s pressed to his in the bright lighting of his room. He could see you if he wanted to, glance down and delight in the pleasure of something he’s only experienced in his imagination, but instead he focuses on your gorgeous face, his heart set on making sure this is what you really want.

“Can I look?” he asks, fingertips lightly trailing up and down your spine. 

You pause, pacing yourself for a decision you know you can’t turn back from, “It’s okay. You can look.” 

Time seems to stand still as Jeongin takes a step back and his gaze falls below your shoulders where your naked body awaits in all its vulnerability. His is the smooth, toned body that you already know it to be. You’ve caught glimpses of it here and there when he’s changed in front of you. And yours is beyond what he’d imagined during those long nights spent blindly exploring your form beneath the sheets.

At first he says nothing, does nothing. He only stares straight ahead, scanning you from head to toe. But just as the nervousness threatens to return he cracks a smile, his face lighting up, stars twinkling in his eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” He exhales the words as naturally as he breathes. 

You blush, a giggle escaping your lips, “Oh my gosh, stop it.”

“Stop it? How can I? Look at you.” 

Your self doubt wants to tell you that he’s lying—that these words you never imagined you’d hear couldn’t possibly be true—but you can’t deny the way Jeongin’s looking at you or the butterflies swarming your stomach. You try to bring your arms around yourself, a thoughtless attempt at hiding away again, but he grabs your hands, lacing his fingers between yours. 

“I mean it” he whispers, thumbs lightly grazing your skin, “Your body’s gorgeous and I feel lucky that you let me lay eyes on it. Thank you.” 

Your cheeks heat up and you dip your head down, too flustered by his words to maintain eye contact. Jeongin cups your cheek, tilting your head back up. He’s stubborn as always, refusing to let you escape his affection. 

“You think so too, don't you?” he asks, his lips floating back to yours. He almost kisses you, just almost, but lets his lips dance there, teasing you with their warmth. 

“Think what? I don’t…” you begin to speak but the feeling of his hands making contact with your belly steals away what was coming next. You let out the softest breath, bordering on a hushed moan. His touch always sets your soul on fire but this time there’s something different about it. Some new aspect of it that has your head all fuzzy and your knees going weak. 

“Think that I should feel lucky that I get to see you” he says, massaging the plush of your belly, “And grateful that I get to touch you.” 

He glides his palms down to your hips, taking indulgent handfuls of your curves as your body gives into his touch. Your fingertips run up his arm, feeling the ridges of his muscles as they flex with every breath. His body shivers, your quiet praise doing to him exactly what his does to you.

“You can’t say things like that, Innie.” 

“Why can’t I?”

“Because I might start believing it.”

Jeongin flashes you that dimpled smile, “Good. I want you to.” 

His lips collide with yours again and it feels like the whole room’s spinning because it is. He closes his arms around your waist, kissing you lovingly as he twirls you towards the bed. Before you know it your head’s resting on a pillow as your body sinks into the softness of the mattress. You can’t tell if it’s the mattress or the euphoria of Jeongin’s tongue tangled with yours but it’s like you’re floating on a cloud.

Jeongin kisses you like it’s the last time your lips will ever meet. His hands explore your body like they’re terrified to forget even the tiniest detail of what you feel like. The affection he pours into you is overwhelming yet you wouldn’t dare ask him to stop.

He saw you, everything about you, and the only place he ran to was your arms. You feel special, cherished in every way for exactly who you are. All your worries seem like nothing more than silly little things in the presence of his adoration. 

Finally breaking from the kiss, the necessity for air forcing your lips apart, Jeongin curls up beside you, keeping you in his arms as he slips a blanket over your naked bodies. You rest your head on his chest the same way you did on the couch, only now your mind isn’t wandering off somewhere far away. It’s right here with him, basking in the moment. 

“Promise not to hide from me anymore” he sighs, planting the sweetest kiss on your forehead. 

You relax into his arms, smiling as your heavy lids fall shut, “I promise.” 

You thought you’d feel more vulnerable lying beside him with your clothes in a pile on the floor but being like this with him is the safest you’ve ever felt, the most comfortable you’ve ever felt, in your own skin. Hide from him? And miss out on a feeling like this? Never again.