#but now I’ve been seeing posts with hundreds of comments and you go in there and people are using it like a fucking Reddit page

[flintstill]

Tumblr for the love of god stop showing me suggested posts.

It used to be every once in a while but now it feels like EVERY 3 POSTS.

If I wanted that (which I don’t), I would use the For You feature—which I don’t.

I want my dash filled with posts of the people I followed on purpose, not another feed created by a fucking algorithm.

If I wanted that I would be on those other shitty apps and not on beloved tumblr. Don’t ruin this

[pickingupmymercedes]

Diamonds - Lewis Hamilton

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: Diamonds - Rihanna - anon

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: pure fluff

wordcount: +1k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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“Alright, how much do you think we broke the internet?” Lewis’s voice is playful as he lounges beside me on the couch, his phone in hand, eyes glinting with mischief.

I grin, glancing at my own phone before tapping into the app. “I’d say… a solid nine out of ten meltdown. Maybe an eight if we’re being modest.”

“Babe, we just hit a solid ten. Easily.” He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused.

“You think so?” I tilt my head, pretending to be unsure, even though I know we probably did. It wasn’t every day you managed to keep your entire wedding a secret and then casually dropped the bomb on the world days later.

Lewis laughs, tossing his phone onto the coffee table before pulling me closer, our legs tangling together on the couch. “I know so.”

With a smirk, I open the post that started it all. Our wedding.

We’d managed to pull off the impossible—a private ceremony, completely under the radar. No leaks, no spoilers. Just our closest family and friends, and then a couple of days of blissful privacy in our honeymoon.

The caption to Lewis's post was simple: “I choose to be happy”

We hadn’t even intended to post anything so soon, but it became obvious it would leak. And we also wanted to have our family and friends join in on the fun.

Now, though, the truth was out. And the reaction? Wild.

“Did you see this one?” Lewis leans over, showing me a comment from one of his teammates. “About time, mate. Thought you’d never lock her down.’

I laugh, shaking my head. “You should probably let him know I was the one pushing the ceremony”

He shrugs, grinning that boyish grin of his. “It was right when it was meant to be, babe.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the smile creeping onto my face. “Cute but cheesy”

We’ve gone through hundreds of comments already—fans, friends, family. All chiming in with their congratulations, shock, and, of course, some jokes.

But then I come across one that makes me pause.

“‘I always knew he was in love with her,’” I read to myself, tapping the comment to expand it. “‘There’s this one picture from the 2021 season, right after the race, where he’s looking at her like she’s the only person in the world. That’s when I knew.’”

I glance over at Lewis, who’s now scrolling again, oblivious to the growing warmth in my chest. “Hey,” I nudge him with my foot. “Listen to this one.”

He raises an eyebrow, a curious smile playing on his lips. “Yeah?”

I clear my throat dramatically. “‘I knew he was a goner during that post-race photo from 2021.’” I give him a pointed look, waiting for the memory to hit.

He blinks, then laughs, his head falling back against the couch. “Monaco, right?”

“Mmhmm.” I nod, smirking. “You were supposed to be celebrating, but someone caught you staring at me instead of at your trophy.”

He grins sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “You did look better than the trophy.”

I roll my eyes, but I’m laughing. “So, you admit it then?”

“Can’t really deny it.” He leans in, kissing my cheek before settling back, his hand resting comfortably on my thigh.

I bite my lip, feeling the heat creep into me. I’ve always known he’s loved me, but hearing him talk about these little moments? It always had an effect on me

I quickly look back at the comments before I melt into a puddle on the couch. The next one makes me laugh out loud.

“‘I’ve been telling y’all for years! Lewis is a SIMP for her. This man was so obvious.’”

Lewis raises an eyebrow at that one, then snatches the phone from my hand to read it himself. “‘Simp?’ Really? Is that what they’re calling me now?”

I snicker, nodding. “Pretty much.”

He shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “I’d call it... strategic devotion.”

I burst out laughing. “That’s what you’re going with?”

He grins, leaning back with his arms behind his head, looking smug. “Sounds better than simp, doesn’t it?”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help smiling. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, babe.”

He laughs, pulling me into his side, his hand resting comfortably on my hip as we keep scrolling.

Another comment catches my eye, and I nudge him again. “Okay, this one’s actually funny. ‘Lewis, can you fight? Because what do you mean you just swooped in and married her.’”

He cracks up at that, glancing at me with a smirk. “You’ve got fans ready to throw hands for you”

I shrug, pretending to be nonchalant. “I’m a catch.”

“Clearly.” He leans in, pressing a kiss to my temple, and I feel that familiar warmth spread through me again. “But for the record, I could fight if I had to.”

I raise an eyebrow, smirking at his possessiveness. “Oh, yeah?”

“Always” he says, voice soft but sure, his eyes locking with mine.

For a moment, everything goes quiet. It’s just us, wrapped in this comfortable silence, the weight of his words settling between us.

We’ve been together for years, but being his wife now? It feels different. In the best way possible.

“Here’s a good one,” I murmur. “‘We knew he was a goner the minute he posted that story of her making breakfast with no captions.’’”

Lewis glances over, his smile turning a little softer. “You were making those pancakes with the berries, wearing my hoodie. I couldn’t resist.”

“You mean my hoodie,” I correct him lightly.

“Right,” he says, his voice rich with amusement. “Your hoodie that I paid for.”

I roll my eyes but can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. “Glad we agree”

He kisses the top of my head, and we settle back into reading the comments, each one a little window into how people see us. It’s funny, really, how much they pick up on.

As we continue reading, another comment catches my eye, and this one stops me for a different reason. “‘The way he looks at her and how he’ll always find her in the crowd. She’s his own personal diamond.’”

I fall silent, the words sinking in, and Lewis seems to notice because he shifts a little, turning so he can see my face.

“What are you thinking?” he asks gently, brushing a thumb over the back of my hand.

I smile, shaking my head slightly. “It’s just... sometimes, I forget that other people see those moments too. It’s like, to me, they’re just... us. But I guess it’s obvious to everyone else.”

He squeezes my hand, his expression softening. “I don’t mind if they see. You make me proud.”

I look at him, the sincerity in his voice catching me off guard for a moment, and I lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Well, just so you know, I think I won the lottery too.”

And then, before I can get too lost in my feelings, I see another comment and burst out laughing again. “‘I knew he was gone for her when he flew halfway across the world, for a single day, just to surprise her on her birthday. That’s husband energy right there.’”

Lewis grins, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s trying to play it cool, but I see the pride in his eyes. “I had to make sure you knew I’d cross the world for you.”

I try and hide my grin on his shoulder, but he’s quick to pull my chin back up. “I mean it”

“I know. I’ve always known” I softly smile at him before leaving a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“I’ve been in it way before I could accept it” he says quietly, brushing my chin with his thumb.

I swallow, suddenly feeling the weight of all these years we’ve spent together—the ups, the downs, the laughter, the tears.

And now here we are, husband and wife, scrolling through comments about our wedding, like it’s just another day. But it’s not.

I glance up at Lewis and he meets my gaze, his expression open and warm, and I see it, in his eyes, our whole lives.

“Guess we have them all fooled, huh?” I say, trying to keep my tone light, but there’s a hint of emotion behind it.

Lewis shakes his head slowly, a small, knowing smile on his lips. “Nah, they were never fooled” he says, his voice gentle and amused. “They saw it all along, even when we didn’t. Even before we let ourselves admit it.”

His words settle between us, a quiet truth that feels almost startling in its simplicity.

 I search his face, seeing the honesty there, the way he’s always seen through to the heart of things. And maybe he's right. Maybe the rest of the world noticed the way we kept gravitating back to each other, even when we tried to keep it hidden.

I lean closer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, feeling the warmth of him against me. “Well, I guess they were onto something, then.”

He smiles into the kiss, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “Yeah. Guess so.”

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[cherryblossom-heart]

Could you love me one last time? (B.B ModernAU!)

Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Masterlist

Summary: It was inevitable, everyone else around you could see it. You and Bucky Barnes were meant to fall for each other. Unfortunately you were also meant to break each others hearts. You left, he stayed and you thought that was it, until a wedding made you come back to face the past you left behind.

13.1 k words

Content warning: ANGST, toxic 'situationship' between Reader and Bucky, heartbreak, alcohol comsumption, +18 SMUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT Bucky and Reader sleeping with other people while they have their situationship going on.

A/N: It's been a long time since I posted. Ik I teased this a long time ago but life got in the way and I forgot about it but now I'm back with this so I hope you guys like it. You're welcomed to send me an ask with any comments, questions, etc., you have on this 😊

Post dividers by @firefly-graphics

Peggy’s dress was surprisingly beautiful. The first time you had seen it in pictures, the dress up in a hanger, you had thought of it a bit ugly to your liking. The long, slight puffy sleeves, the plain A skirt, and the square neckline made for an overall boring piece of fabric, and when she had asked you over FaceTime what your thoughts were, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. But now, as she walked with a smile on her face to her soon-to-be husband, you were happy you kept your mouth shut. It wasn’t the dress or the makeup or the hairstyle that made her stunning, it was the love and care in her eyes. It was the happiness in her face whenever she looked at Steve.

Just as she reached the end of the aisle, taking her place next to you and the rest of the bridesmaids, a pair of familiar blue icy eyes caught your attention. Bucky looked good, you could admit to yourself, even after not seeing him for the past almost six years, it seemed that time had just made him even more attractive. He no longer was the youthful, long haired and clean shaved guy that had once dared you to see who could fit more grapes in your mouth, accidentally spitting one to your face as he tried not to choke with them. The traces of his fuckboyish persona were long gone too, instead replaced by a seriousness you had only seen on certain occasions. This Bucky was no longer a boy that enjoyed playing with feelings and breaking hearts; this was a man. A man that looked slightly older had light wrinkles and shorter hair that came with a slight beard. This was a Bucky changed, mature.

This Bucky wasn’t the one you had left behind when you moved away.

His eyes stayed on you during the whole ceremony, and you couldn’t help but stare back at him.  For years you had wondered what you would do if you ever saw him again, you wondered if things would be awkward, or perhaps he would act as if nothing had happened, as if both of you hadn’t ended up with a broken heart that night. A part of you thought it would still hurt as it did almost six years ago, maybe the anger would still be there and it would end up with both of you avoiding each other as much as you could. You saw a hundred scenarios running through your head all through your seven hour flight, but you never considered this one.

You never expected he would be so direct, or to look at you with such intensity. You were sure that after all this time he would have already forgotten about you, leaving your memory buried in the back of his mind as he easily replaced you with some other girl. Yet the way his eyes screamed for your attention made you think otherwise, a deep-rooted desperation washed over them, and you understood what he said.

“I’ve missed you.”

You weren’t the only one to notice it. Once the party started and the bride and groom were going around tables greeting everyone, Natasha, Wanda, and Pepper dragged you to the venue's private dressing room to drill you with every question they could think of. You were thankful Peggy was too busy with her new husband, or else the interrogatory would’ve been ten times more exhausting.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Have you guys talked?”

“Are you going to talk to him?”

“Why is he looking at you like that?”

“Do you still love him?”

And that was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? Did your heart still belong to James Buchannan Barnes? Was your heart still yearning for the tumultuous yet passionate and ultimately toxic relationship that had ensued between both of you?

The answer to all of that was yes and no. You didn’t miss the person you had become at the end of your "relationship," if you could even call it that; you didn’t miss the fights, the crying, and the resentment. You didn’t miss the uncertainty that came with being with young Bucky Barnes or the hole in your chest that you felt whenever he would leave.

However, you did miss his company. Not the bullshit, flirtatious, overly confident, and emotionally distant persona he would often put out. No, that dickhead was one of the reasons you never worked out. Instead, you missed the Bucky that would buy you a coffee every morning, the one that would make you laugh until your stomach hurt, the one that would invite you over to have a movie night and buy your favorite snacks.

You missed Bucky, who used to be your friend.

Natasha, the ever-observant of your group of friends, had warned you before it started. She had seen the way you eyed each other at a party one drunken night, both your eyes burning with desire as a product of the growing sexual tension you have had ever since you met for the first time.

As it turned out, Natasha was not only beautiful but also intuitive.

“Nat, please—” you drunkenly argued. Your red cup filled with liquor spilled as you tried to walk away from the redhead, but her hand stopped you.

“Listen to me. I know you want to fuck him, but you have to promise me you won’t do it.” The seriousness behind her voice didn’t register in your intoxicated brain, though, and you kept rolling your eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You half slurred, half laughed.

“I see the way you look at him; I also see the way he looks at you. Maybe one day you guys could be a good couple, great even, but right now the only thing that could come out of you two hooking up is one of you getting hurt, if not both.” Her hands grabbed your face, and green eyes met yours. “You will break each other's hearts. You already love each other; we can all see it, but neither of you is ready to be in a relationship or to compromise yet. So please, for the love of God, do not sleep with him.”

Natasha’s words were wise, and with time, they turned out to be true. The next morning you had woken up in bed alone; the only memory of him was the smell of cheap beer, sweat, and the cologne he always wore.

That was the first time Bucky had broken your heart.

Truth be told, as much as you had blamed Bucky for the downfall of your situationship, you were as equally guilty as he had been. The loneliness, the anger, and the resentment you felt throughout the relationship were probably reciprocated because, as Nat had said, you weren’t ready to be together.

Both of you loved each other deeply, but you didn’t know how to do it. Not in a healthy way.

So you tore yourselves apart, sleeping with one another but never brave enough to define things. You acted as if you were a couple, but neither of you would admit your feelings, not even to each other. It was a cycle of stability and sex that always crashed down with one of you being scared, perhaps both of you at the same time, of giving your heart away.

“Hey”

Your heart drummed against your chest, and a warmth spread over your cheeks. You had missed his voice, the sweet baritone of his voice had always made your body react like that. And now, after years of not hearing it, you finally realized how much you had craved for it.

He carried two flutes filled with champagne and passed one to you, which you gladly took.

“Thanks.” you said with a smile.

Both of you took a sip from your drinks, unsure of how to start the so needed conversation. Fortunately, Bucky decided to take the first step.

“They seem happy, huh?”

You chuckled mentally at his opening line, but you admitted to yourself you couldn’t do better.

“Yeah.” You took a second sip of your drink. “The happiest I’ve ever seen them.”

“You must be proud.” he pointed out. You looked at him, confused at what he meant. “Of your matchmaking skills. This wouldn’t have happened without you convincing Peggy to let Steve show her around the city when she first moved here.”

Ah, of course. A sweet smile placed on your lips as you remembered Steve’s adoration showing on his face the first time he saw Peggy after coming to visit you. She, on the other hand, thought nothing more of him than just a pretty guy, but you could see that behind the tough façade she always displayed towards men that tried to flirt with her, she was interested in him, his character, and the kindness he always displayed.

So naturally, you intervened. And you got the perfect opportunity when Peggy got offered a job in New York.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You smirked at him.

“Sure,” he chuckled.

A heartbeat passed, and blue eyes connected with yours once again. The more you looked at them, the more you could feel all the things he wanted to say—a storm of words locked behind them and almost ready to spill. But above all, you could see a bit of sadness, and he found himself finding the same in yours.

His hand twitched in instinct, wanting to caress your face to comfort you, as he had done for so many years, but he caught himself before doing it. It was too late though; you caught it the moment you saw his eyes tense up.

“Do you—” his words died on his mouth, the rushed beating of his heart stopping them. He cleared his throat, trying to push out more confidence than he actually felt. “Wanna go take a walk?”

You didn’t answer immediately. You couldn’t. Every rational part of you was screaming at you, scolding you for even thinking of going with him. You couldn't do it, you couldn’t fall for the same cycle you had run away from in the first place. You weren’t the same person as you were before, you matured, and you learned from your mistakes. Going out with the man that always seem to bring your deepest, darkest, and most unwanted feelings was something you couldn't do.

You couldn't.

You shouldn’t.

You shouldn’t.

“Yeah. That sounds nice.”

You were convinced that whoever planned Steve and Peggy’s wedding was into sorcery, or at the very least a clairvoyant. When Peggy and Steve chose this place along with a terrace to host the ceremony, everyone had been skeptical of it, as having a wedding outside in the middle of April wasn’t a good choice. As the day of the ceremony closed in, the rainy days did too, and five days before it wouldn’t stop raining all day. Steve and Peggy had expressed their concerns to the wedding planner, but they only got a confident response that nothing would ruin their day. And the wedding planner had been right, not a single drop fell that day in the middle of April; instead, a cool, warm day had welcomed the newlyweds.

As you walked the chilly but comfortable night streets of New York, you thanked the wedding planner and their perfect timing. Even walking in silence along him brought your heart back to the many times you had done the same thing back then, back when you were just two college students without any idea what the future held for you.

“So... how you’ve been?” He asked, unsure of what else to say.

“I’ve been alright. Work has really taken over my life.”

He chuckled. “You? A workaholic?”

It wasn't that you had been irresponsible or a mess back in college, but you had always been more of an adventurer, and you had always pointed out your desire to never lose your freedom.

He had been the same.

“Look who’s talking, Mr. ‘I have my own firm’,” you teased.

Steve had told you a couple of years ago about their idea of opening his own firm, alongside Bucky and Sam. You remember your heart stopping at the mention of his name, but you didn’t tell Steve to not mention him; instead, you asked more about it. It was the first time in years you got any updates on his life, and you allowed yourself to dwell in it. That call stayed on your mind for weeks.

“Shut up,” he smirked.

That was all he needed to open up about what had happened to him. He told you about his old firm and how he hated to work there. How he wanted to have a place where working pro bono wasn’t such an impossible thing to do, he wanted to do more than just defend white collar rich people that seemed to think the law was always above them. He told you how scared he was of leaving somewhere where he had stability but was ultimately convinced by Steve to make a big move, follow what he wanted to do.

In return, you told him about how scared you had been of building a new life in a different country and how you thought your job would suffer from it, as you had thought that as a journalist with a lack of connections and knowledge of the place would put you in a thought position. You told him how you had met Peggy when you were interviewing a couple of government officers for alleged corruption practices, and out of everyone there, Peggy seemed to be the only one that had taken any concern in it. You told him about the job offer you had gotten for a company right in New York that you weren’t taken so seriously but you still wanted to see what it was.

The more you heard him speak, the more happiness grew inside you. Sometimes you wondered whether you had made the right choice or not when you left him behind, but hearing everything he had accomplished, both of you, you were confident you had done what was right for you both.

You turned to him, both of you stopping in your tracks, your hand moved before you could stop it and found it’s place in his, and he reacted on pure instinct, his fingers intertwining with yours.

Bucky’s touch had always brought you warmth on cold days. Ever since the first time you shook hands, there had been an invisible force that made you crave his touch, your hands prickling wherever he had touch. With Bucky, you had always felt safe, even when he was breaking your heart.

You searched in his eyes for any signs of uncomfortableness or rejection at your touch, your heart aching in your chest at the thought of it, but there was only surprise and vulnerability in them. The corner of his eyes lowered as his eyebrows furrowed and his thumb swept over your skin, sending sparkles all over your body.

He had missed this, more than he would ever admit.

“I’m proud of you, Jamie.” His face lit up, a happy smile spreading over his face. “I always knew you would do great things.”

Bucky’s hand leaves yours, a sudden ache installing in your chest, but it didn’t stay there long as he engulfed you in a tight hug, one of his arms surrounding your waist and the other one going behind your neck.

Your head found its place in the crook of his neck, and his hand held the back of your head. His eyes closed as he smelled your lavender shampoo.

“I’m so proud of you too, my beautiful angel,” he whispered next to your ear, making your eyes prickle with the treat of tears spilling from them. “Peggy told me how hard you’ve worked for your position. You have the job of your dreams, you deserve every promotion you’ve gotten, every award, and every adventure you’ve had. I’m proud of the life you have built for yourself.”

The hug became tighter as you both relished in each other's touch and smell, a memory of the past that still ached but also brought you the sweetest of comfort.

Even after all that had happened, the love and care, no matter how tainted it had ended up as, still remained there. Deep down, in the bittersweet memories of how good things had been and the old promises that were never kept, the feelings were still there.

After a few minutes, the embrace was cut short, both of you now slightly embarrassed for the sudden display of affection. The heat in your cheeks made you cringe inwards, and you forced yourself to look away. You shouldn’t have done that. You shouldn't have enjoyed it as much as you did. You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this, you wouldn't feel so deeply for him.

As it turned out, stopping loving Bucky Barnes wasn’t as easy as you had thought.

His hand wrapped yours, taking you by surprise. A charming smile showed his white teeth, and the little wrinkles around his eyes made your heart melt. You smiled back at him, the butterflies in your stomach growing stronger and stronger; perhaps they never left.

“Remember that old bar with the arcade inside?” he asked out of nowhere.

“The one where we found after the whole John Walker thing?” He nodded. “Yeah, what about it?”

“Let’s go grab a drink there.”

Electricity ran through your veins at his words, and you felt like you were a freshman in college again.

“Aren’t we a little too overdressed to go to a bar?” You question. Bucky’s navy blue suit that was paired with an expensive-looking pair of black shoes and your lilac flowy long dress were definitely too much for a dinky little bar.

Bucky’s eyes shone with a youthful spark you had seen so long ago as he squeezed your hand.

“Who cares?”

When you got accepted into your first college choice, you thought you might have been dreaming. The chances you got accepted were the lowest of every place that you had applied to, but by some miracle you got it. You had dreamed of what college life would be—the classes you would take, the new and interesting people you would meet, and even the parties you would attend. You had prepared yourself for a life full of work and perhaps adventure.

But not even a lifetime of daydreaming could’ve prepared you for Bucky Barnes.

Life is filled with an ocean of coincidences, but the ones that always lingered in your mind were the ones that brought you to him. If Natasha’s phone had not died the night before, she would’ve woken up in time to get to class, and she would’ve taken her preferred spot in the middle of the class. If she had woken up in time, she wouldn’t have ended up sitting in the only available seat, which coincidentally was next to you.

If Natasha had woken up earlier, you would’ve never ended up talking to her and subsequently going to go grab something to eat; she would’ve never introduced you to her roommate Wanda or her longtime friend Steve. Also, she would’ve never invited you to hang out with the rest of her friend group in the exact same bar that you would adopt for a weekly Friday reunion for the rest of college.

And perhaps you would’ve never had met Bucky Barnes, or you would’ve ended up being one of many nightstands. Or maybe life would’ve ended up bringing you to him no matter what, because after meeting him you started to believe in soulmates. Not in the typical type of soulmates that, with just one glance, you weren’t that naive, but you did believe in the type of soulmates that would understand you unlike anyone else. There had always been an emptiness in your heart that you never noticed, not until he held you for the first time after a bad day.

Bucky was your soulmate because things had never been complicated with him, not even the first time you met each other. Talking to him, opening up, and letting him see the ugliest parts of yourself was almost second nature to you. You were convinced that the only person who could see the world the same as you was him. He saw the good and the bad in you because, in the end, the same parts in you that were broken were already broken in himself.

Maybe this was why you didn’t work out.

At the time you didn’t care, the only thing you cared about was the fact that being with Bucky made you feel good. That’s why it wasn’t so hard to convince you to go with him to do things that weren’t necessarily smart, wise... or legal. Things like breaking into a party that was hosted by Bucky’s college nemesis and spray painting in his room the words “You are nothing without Daddy’s money.” Bucky had always been talented at hitting where it hurt, especially when it came to someone who had jeopardized his scholarship.

John Walker had been furious later that night when he had brought a girl upstairs only to fund the stench of the spray pain nauseatingly filling his room. The black letters still dripped from the freshness of it, and Walker had gone in what could only be described as a temper tantrum at the age of twenty, at least that’s what everyone had said next Monday when you went back to class.

That night you had decided to celebrate, roaming the streets of New York in search of a bar that would take your fake ID’s and wouldn’t think twice about it but could also drink in peace without having to fight for a beer. Unfortunately, everywhere seemed to be either packed or the bartender would intensely check everyone's ID, driving you away from there. You had already paid a good amount for them, you didn’t want to risk losing it.

Almost close to giving up and just going back to Bucky’s apartment, a neon light caught your attention. Big, bright cyan letters read “Blue Circuit,"  a lonely bar in the middle of town that not a lot of people seemed to go to. A bar that would become a place just for you and Bucky, away from everyone else, from people’s expectations, and above all, away from the real world. As long as you were there with him, nothing mattered, and no one else could break apart what this place meant.

But if things had gone the way they were supposed to, then you wouldn’t have left, and even after all these years, this place would still be yours, and his eyes wouldn’t have looked at you with such hatred when he had caught you in the bathroom with a random guy you met at a party.

“C’mon!” Bucky yelled once your character had gotten the last winning hit on his. The animation of the pixelated woman with steel fans using them to cut his character's head officially proclaimed your victory.

With a cocky smile, you took a step back, winking at him as you took a sip of your drink, and the taste of rum filled your taste buds. “I don’t know why you’re so surprised, I’ve always been better at this than you.”

His body came close to you, close enough to smell the beers he had been taking, and with a seamless swing he took your glass away from your lips and brought it to his, his body ever so slightly trapping you against a table.

“That’s because you always cheat.” He said, with a playfulness in his eyes that made your heart pound against your chest. “You do your little cheat codes that I’ve never learned.”

“You mean learning the combos and using them?” You questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Sure, if that’s what you call them.”

You took back your drink, placing it on the table behind you, before grabbing his hand and guiding him through the other machines, scanning them with your eyes as you passed the few that still remained there. The classics were still there: Pacman, Space Invaders, MK, Tetris, etc; but those were still games that Bucky still struggled with. You remembered you used to tell him he had an old soul, and that’s why he always struggled to play any videogames, no matter how old they were.

“So, what do you want to get your ass beaten on now?”

His eyes swept through the room until they finally landed in a new addition to the bar, a brand new air hockey table. He didn’t even have to say a word, once his eyes had reached yours, you knew it.

With a happy smile, you rushed to the table. The way you both laughed reminded you of the way you would run hand in hand to your next class when you were late, the rushing in your veins and the tingling sensation of his touch in your skin being the only thing that mattered once you caught a glance of his face. A silly crush, you had deemed it. As if his smile wouldn’t warm up your inside, as if his presence wasn’t the only one that you could tolerate sometimes. As if he hadn’t managed to become one of the most important people in your life in just six months.

As if he wasn’t your first actual love.

College me was so naive, you thought amused with yourself. What you weren’t expecting was the speckles of bitterness that lingered in your mouth moments after it.

“You wanna make this more interesting?” Bucky broke you from your thoughts.

Right, air hockey.

“I’m listening.” A smooth tone filled every letter you said, making his skin filled with goosebumps.

He dug into his pockets, pulling out the change he had previously gotten from the bartender so you could use it and putting it in the side of the machine. One flat hockey disc fell, and he placed it on his side.

“Let’s make it a challenge.”

“What do you mean?”

James, the man whore seductress he always was, began uncuffing his sleeves off, folding them up until they reached right below his elbow. At first you would’ve thought of it as a way to get himself comfortable for the game, but the way he leaned over the table, his muscles popping discreetly against his shirt and his eyes burning you with something you were familiar with, you knew it was intentional.

“If any of us score a point, we get to ask a question to the other person , whatever it is, and we have to answer it, no bullshit allowed.”

Bucky was tempting you the same way he used to do it. He had something in mind he wanted to ask, and he was fishing for an in. He knew how to sweet-talk to you to give in, he knew how attractive he was, and he had learned what worked on you to the tea. James knew what he was doing just as much as you knew it, and that wasn’t even the worst part.

The worst part was how much you wanted to give in.

“No bullshit, huh?” You asked, downing the rest of your drink before grabbing the mallet in your hand. If James Buchanan Barnes knew something was how to bring excitement to your life. You missed that. “Alright, ready to tell me your deepest, darkest secrets?”

He chuckled at your words, an ever so attractive smirk placing in his lips as he moved medium length hair away from his face. “Overconfidence is going to be your downfall, angel.”

Ah, there it was again. Angel.

He was trying, you could give him that. He really was trying. He knew that nickname always made your heart race faster. Sure, it wasn’t the most original one, people had called you that before, but it the way he said it that made it special.

He always made you feel special.

“It’s not overconfidence, old man. It’s just a fact.”

“Hey, fuck you. I’m only a year older than you.” You gave him a blank stare, knowing fully aware that wasn’t what you meant. “Besides, people say I have an old soul.”

And with that, the game started.

He took you by surprise, the little shit. A hard swipe, and the disk went zigzagging through the table until it got past your guard. The sound of the disk falling back for you to pick it up finally reached your ears before you could even process what was going on.

“That was cheating!” You argued, picking the disc back up.

James shrugged. “What? Now that I score a point, you're going to call it cheating?” He started to shake his head. “Such a sore loser.”

Ok, alright. He wanted to play like that, you could play the same.

“Fine.” You grunted. “Ask away.”

He took his time, a couple of seconds in, and you could see the question forming in his mind. Your heart pumped against your chest so rapidly, anticipation building up at what he was going to say.

“What was the first thing you thought when you saw me again?"

“Uh,” you stammered, You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to ask, but it still took you aback. “That’s your first question?”

James shrugged. “I’m just curious.”

“Well, I thought you looked more mature.”

“You mean old?” He questioned, half offended.

"No,” you chuckled. “Mature in the sense that I can’t see that same childishness I used to see all over your face ever since I met you.” You threw back the disk in the table and shot it with your mallet, the disk zigzagging all over the table. Bucky’s reflexes were good though, he blocked it right as it was about to go through and the next round began. “A part of me expected to see the same smug, cocky smile that followed me all through college but with a couple of wrinkles, maybe even a few gray hairs.” He chuckled. “But it’s not there. Well, it’s still there, but not in the same ‘I’m Bucky Barnes, I’m a total 10 and I know it and I definitely think I’m the hottest shit around’ type of way” You paused for a second, before almost whispering. “I was glad it isn’t there anymore.”

For a moment his eyes left the table and went to see your face. You thought for a second your words might’ve offended him, but the smile plastered all over his face brought relief to you.

“I was that annoying, huh?” he chuckled.

“Just a little bit.” You shrugged.

With an abrupt movement, you stopped the black circle and looked directly at him. Blue eyes looked at you confused until he saw the coy smile on your lips, your eyes looking deeper into him and making his spine shiver.

You gave him “the eyes.”.

“I also thought I almost forgot how good you look when you wear blue.” You told him before sliding the disk right across the table.

Score.

Not only could you play the same game as him, you could play it better.

After all, it was you that made the first move that night.

“Are you sure we can go up there this late?” You questioned as the imposing building in front of you two seemed locked for the night.

Bucky’s hand squeezed yours harder while still guiding you towards it. “Trust me, I’ve spent my fare share of nights here.”

He knocked on the glass doors, as they were already blocked at this time of the night. A man dressed in a security guard outfit came close to the door, a tired smile on his face.

“I’m starting to think you don’t actually own a house, Mr. Barnes.” He joked while searching between his keys.

The security guards comment made him chuckle. “What can I say, Jeff? There’s nothing like the smell of a copy machine to put me to sleep.”

“I can tell.” Jeff let you in, closing the door quickly behind you. “And I see you brought some company this time.”

You smiled at him shyly, extending your hand to introduce you as you told him your name. “It’s nice to meet you, Jeff.”

“Nice to meet you too, maybe you can convince this one to stop sleeping here every once in a while.”

“I’ll try my best.” You smiled at him.

After a few more inoffensive jabs from Jeff, you and Bucky made your way towards the elevator, the doors closing as you waved goodbye to the old, gray-haired man. You chuckled one last time at his jokes, and you laid against the wall. There was something about this building that you couldn’t shake off, the layout seeming all too familiar, scratching the back of your mind, but you weren’t able to see why.

“Have I been here before?” You told him.

He turned around with that playful smile he always had, and your heart skipped a beat. His eyes looked at you, and you could tell his mind went to the past, a memory he seemed to treasure.

“I’m surprised it took you so long to recognize it.”

“I don’t remember it, it just seems familiar.”

A small flash of disappointment crossed his blue eyes, and it made you feel a little guilty, but his little smile stayed the same.

“Maybe once we reach the top you’ll remember.” He told you, his fingers sliding between yours once the door opened.

You walked through the hallways of the office space, a lonely desk welcoming you both with a big plaque behind it that read “Rogers & Barnes” with golden letters. He had told you about his partnership with Steve, but having actually seen it made you realize how real it was.

Bucky deserved it; they both did. Everything they had worked for they had earned it with sweat, blood, and tears, and if there was anyone that had ever deserved success, it was both of them.

You kept walking, turning in some hallways and walking up some flights of stairs, passing conference rooms, what seemed to be a communal eating space, and office floors filled with computers and documents. Your journey came to an end once you reached a door, his name engraved on the dark chocolate wooden door.

Once you were inside, you left your coat on one of the three deep blue couches that occupied the center of the room.

“I’ll be right back.” He said before turning around and leaving you alone.

You took your time admiring the place. His desk, big and magnificent, looked clean and professional—not a single paper out of place. On the sides of the room there were bookshelves, some of them filled with books, others with binders of what you assumed was important documentation. However, what caught your eye was the pictures displaying on them.

There was one of Steve and him, both dressed up, and the golden sign in the entrance behind them. You assumed it was taken when they had opened the office, a big, almost juvenile expression on their faces. The next one was one of him with his old college football team, you saw similar faces popping up, Thor, Sam, Clint, Tony, Pietro, Steve, even young Peter was in it. They were all sweating, but the grins on their faces made you think this was after one of the games they had won.

You expected to see pictures from before, but you never thought you would see your own face in them. Almost all of the group pictures that showed all of you had him next to you, his arm around your shoulders or your waist, his grip pressing you against him. In all of them, you were both happy, except one of them caught your eye. It was a normal group picture on the surface, but this time his eyes weren’t on the camera taking the picture.

His eyes were on you.

“Having fun?” His words broke you out of your thoughts. You turned around, his hands holding two glasses and a bottle of scotch.

“Just looking at your collection of mementos.” You answered, leaving the picture in its rightful place.

You accepted the drink, taking a small sip of it as the bitter taste reached your tongue.

“So, you still don’t recognize it?” he questioned.

You shook your head. “Nope, I got no idea where we are.”

He guided you to the big glass wall to the side of his desk, and you saw it, overwhelmingly beautiful and majestic. The city looked bright, colored vibrating lights filling the scene while skyscrapers rose above everything, its architecture set in a messy yet harmonious display.

“What a view.” Was the only thing you were able to say, your hand reaching to touch the glass.

“Now look over there.” He pointed to your left.

Your eyes squinted, trying to search for whatever it was that he was trying to show you, but the darkness of the night didn’t help at all.

“On that tall building, under the light.”

You scanned the scenery, this time more carefully, until you finally found it. Your heart pounded against your chest, the tears almost filling your eyes instantly. That old brown wall was lit up by a single lamp, but its brightness was enough for you to read the graffiti on it.

If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.

Once sentence, and you were twenty-two again.

Tony’s party had been more fun than you had thought. When he had invited you all to the inauguration of this building, his building, you guessed it would be filled with pompous and uptight rich people. Maybe there would be boring classical music in the background and the menu would be entirely of caviar, Iberic ham, and some weird meat like kangaroo steak or something like that.

You should’ve known better than that.

Tony Stark, the only heir to the Stark fortune, was known for his rebellious ways. If he was throwing a party, it would definitely be wild; it didn’t matter what the setting was. So, in true Tony Starks style, the party ended up being a music and alcohol fest, to his father's dismay. Most of the attendees were his “party friends,"  with the exception of his parents and a few of their friends, and what was supposed to be a dull night ended up almost being a college party.

You and your friends had fun dancing, drinking, and laughing in the best clothes you owned. For you, it had been a green sequin dress you had the fortune to have found in a thrift store, as being a college student didn’t really allow you to spend hundreds of dollars on a dress. Bucky's suit had been an old deep blue one his mother had bought him for when his sister got married.

He looks amazing, you thought to yourself.

She looks breathtaking, he thought to himself.

He had spent the whole night by your side, as this had been one of your “good streaks,” as you called them. Neither of you had started a fight in a while, there hadn’t been any angry calls, tears, or ignoring each other, nor was there any jealousy, petty revenge, or hooking up with strangers. The last three were the worst; those usually happened when shit hit the fan, more often than not, and would leave you with an empty feeling after the storm had cleared.

Fortunately, this night instead had been filled with dancing, kisses, and lingering touches that would make you feel as in the highest of clouds. You loved the way his lips would kiss your neck, or how his fingers would caress your face, one of his hands in the back of your neck. You loved the kisses, how his lips tasted, the smell of his cologne, and the way his hair would fall on top of his eyes. You loved the way he smiled when he looked at you, how when he started to notice you, you were overwhelmed by everyone around and took you to explore the new but somewhat empty hallways.

You loved the way he made you laugh.

You loved the way he always knew how to say the right thing, even when everything else was bad.

You loved the way he made you feel.

You loved that you felt safe.

You loved— You loved—

You loved hi—

“Let’s go, around here.” Bucky pulled you with one hand, the other holding a bottle of champagne.

After a couple of minutes more, you finally found an empty office, all the way back into the room. An impressive big glass wall on the side of the office lets you see the whole city at night. It was beautiful.

Bucky took out his jacket, putting it on the floor so both of you could sit on top of it. After settling down, he opened the bottle, the cork flying behind you. The both of you stayed there for a while, your heads resting against his shoulder while you passed around the bottle.

“Could you imagine having an office like this?”

You chuckled. “Only if I win the lottery. Or marry a rich guy.”

“Too bad I’m broke.” He retorted, taking a sip.

His words took you aback, once again. Bucky had a tendency of saying things like that, and you weren’t sure how they made you feel. Sure, you could clearly see a future with him, but that wasn’t what you had agreed on. After that first night, you had agreed you were better as friends, but the next weekend ended with the two of you sleeping together again, and you decided that perhaps adding some benefits would be the best. Always friends, but never more.

Then why would he always say things like that?

You stood up, coming close to the crystal wall in an attempt to escape the overwhelming thoughts that plagued you once you thought about your "situationship." After a few seconds, he stood up too, placing himself to your right.

“I would like to work in a place half as nice as this.”

“Maybe you can ask Tony to give you family and friends a discount."

Your retort was met with a sarcastic laugh. "Yeah, right, even then I’d have to sell one of my kidneys to be able to afford one month's rent.”

“I’d tell you to sell your liver after, but with how much you drink, it’s probably already damaged goods.”

He laughed. He always looked so beautiful when he laughed.

Why were things so simple yet so simple with him? Why was being friends with him so complicated? You wanted more, you knew that he wanted more, but for some reason neither of you would say it. None of you were brave enough to say it.

Maybe the bad things about your “situationship” would go away once you were together. Maybe if you finally decided to take the first step, whether you felt ready or not, then the things that he did that broke your heart would stop. Maybe you would also stop trying to break his in return.

“I—”

Before you could even get one full word out, he interrupted you.

“What the fuck?”

His eyes were looking at some of the buildings below, an amused expression on his face.

“What?”

“Down there, there’s a guy doing graffiti.” He pointed.

You scanned the buildings over where he pointed, thankful that your eyesight was good enough to be able to spot a person with a red hoodie painting on a big wall that he had just covered with a lot of strokes of blue, purple, and pink, all of them mixing together to form what looked like a galaxy. He had just started to paint something on top of it, so his body was blocking the progress he had made, but you could tell he was writing something.

“What do you think he’s writing?” You asked him, your eyes fixated on the stranger.

“Something that will make us question the meaning of life.” He stated in an all-too-serious tone. “Or maybe he’s just writing his name.”

You chuckled. “Maybe he’s writing something like ‘peace’ or ‘love’, something nice.”

“Or, hear me out, something about being chill or keeping it real.”

After a few minutes of brainstorming options, Bucky pointed out the stranger had finished. After a few seconds of squinting your eyes, you saw the white letters that were still dripping with the freshness of the paint, and it read:

‘If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.’

Your eyes welled up with tears.

You were sure things were meant to be with him, but you weren’t ready to say them out loud. Not when you were so scared. Not when you couldn’t even tell him how you felt. Not when you couldn’t even bring to think those three words that would linger in your brain.

Not when a small part of you hated him when things were bad.

Instead of risking it all, you grabbed the bottle from his hands, taking a sip of it and rasing your pinky finger. “Let’s make a promise.”

His finger held yours.

“About what?”

“That no matter what, we’ll always be friends.”

“I thought that was implied already.” He joked.

“Promise it.”

His grip got tighter.

“I promise. Until death do us apart.”

And with that, he pulled towards himself, his arm around your shoulder as you both looked at the city lights.

“And who knows, maybe once you graduate you’ll get a good job, save some money, and have your own firm here. Or maybe get Tony to be your sugar daddy and gift you the whole building.”

He chortled. “Only if you promise you’ll stop by once in a while to have lunch with me.” He kissed you at the top of your head before continuing. “And to help me break things up with him after he signs the deal.”

“Promise.”

As life would have it, every promise you made each other was broken.

“How?” You questioned him, still taken aback.

“When Steve and I were planning on opening our own place together, we couldn’t find a good place to rent, so Tony offered us a space here.”

“He offered you this office?”

“Well, not this one exactly. I asked him if we could get this one.”

You didn’t utter a word for a couple of minutes, the silence of the office drowning you. A thousand questions ran through your mind as you processed what he said. Only after you were sure you could speak, you let out one word.

“Why?”

Bucky's eyes changed, the creases in the corners of his eyes pulled them down, and his eyes were clouded with a sadness you weren’t sure how to describe.

“You know why.” He whispered, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it.

Heartbreak.

That’s what you saw in his eyes.

A heartbreak that you thought you had left behind so many years ago.

You took a sip of your drink, hoping the burning of the alcohol would take away the knot in your throat.

“Well, that realization came in a little too late, didn’t it?” You remarked. You sounded bitter, it wasn’t intentional, but your mouth seemed to be acting before you could stop it.

“Yeah, I guess it did.” He muttered.

Why did he have to bring this up? Why couldn’t you just keep pretending like you were catching up as if you were just old friends who hadn’t seen each other in a while? Why couldn't you just keep pretending?

You left the glass on his desk and grabbed your coat.

“It’s late; I should probably go back to my hotel. I gotta prepare for my interview.”

“Don’t leave yet, please.” He begged.

He grabbed your hand, his touch breaking your heart once again. You didn’t move away from it though, you weren’t sure you were able to hold yourself together if you broke apart. You didn’t want to break apart. He came closer to you, his hand going to your waist as the other one wiped away the stray tears that scaped your eyes.

Bucky’s eyes looked at your lips before turning his attention to your eyes. He wanted to kiss you, he craved it like a madman in a dessert that hadn’t had water in weeks. He needed to kiss you, but he was still looking for something in you that would stop him. The sound of your coat dropping on the floor and your hand on top of his was the answer he needed.

His lips tasted like scotch and longing. Your arms surrounded his neck in an attempt to bring him closer to you. You could feel his heartbeat against your skin, the desperation of his touch as his hand pushed the back of your head to him. The kiss wasn’t pretty to watch either, but you liked it this way. It was messy and hurried, but you could feel everything he felt.

The side of you you had buried half a decade ago was crawling back to the surface, it’s claws filled with love, passion, admiration, and all the good things that came with Bucky. But it also brought everything that was unfinished, all the fights, the pain, and worst of all, all the resentment that you had never spoken about.

It was all at once.

And it was too much.

“No.” You pushed him away.

You needed to get out. You needed to run away.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you before.” His voice was rushed, he knew his time with you was coming to an end. “I was an idiot, I was scared—“

“I don’t want to hear it.” You bent down to grab your things, but your belongings had come out of the pockets, your purse spilling its contents.

“— and for the past six years the only thing that’s been in my head is that I should’ve told you that day how much I loved you—”

“Stop.” You were trying to pick up everything.

“—and I know I should’ve went after you, I should’ve apologized for everything I did to you—”

“Stop it.”

“—but I was a coward. I’m still a coward because that’s the first thing I should’ve done when I saw you. But I’m here now because—”

“No.”

“— I still love you,—”

“Stop.”

“—I never stopped loving you—”

“Fucking stop!”

Your scream resounded in the office, the echo bouncing off the walls. Your words made him back away, as if you had burned him.

“Just—” your voice cracked, the tears prickling your eyes. “Just stop.”

He took a step forward, his hands hesitantly moving towards you, but you slapped them away.

“Why are you telling me this? Why now?”

For a few seconds, he remained silent as if he didn’t know either.

“Because I lied. That night you left my apartment, I lied when I said that I didn’t want the same thing as you.”

“You alright? You sounded weird over the phone.” Bucky asked as he opened the door.

Your hands were shaking with anticipation, your heart beating against your chest so quickly you thought you were about to have a heart attack.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” You answered as you made your way to the couch, your hands gripping on the side of it in an attempt to calm down.

His steps echoed behind you, the sound of a glass clinging was followed by running water.

“You want anything to drink?” he offered.

“No thanks.”

"Ok, just give me a sec, and I’ll be with you.”

You assumed he was doing the dishes by the amount of noise he was making. Bucky had always been a loud person, this being a clear example. A somewhat annoying  charm of his that right now was calming enough to make your pulse settle, at least enough to let go of the poor couch.

Instead, you just rested your hands on the side, caressing the fabric. Your whole focus on it until you felt a change in the texture. You looked at your hand, almost in between the cushions, and saw something that looked and felt like lace. As you pulled it out, you recognized it was underwear.

It wasn’t your underwear.

Don’t think about it, you said to yourself.

Someone else was here.

Don’t think about it.

Who was it?

Don’t think about it.

Was it Dolores again?

Don’t.

Think.

About.

It.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” He said behind you.

Quickly, you put the underwear back in its place, tucking it. He sat next to you, his back reclined.

The next few minutes were a blur in your mind. Sure, you had prepared a speech that you had gone over and over again until you had seen all possible scenarios and you had prepared for every possible answer he could have. What you didn’t expect was for you to black out while doing it, only remembering a few sentences.

“I know we said that we would leave things be, that we were good as just friends, but from the very beginning I’ve wanted to be with you, not just as friends. You make me happy, you make me feel safe, you make me feel alive.”

“You have become the only one in my heart, I can’t feel like this for anyone else. I don’t want to feel like this for anyone else.”

“Things haven’t been exactly light and breezy as we expected, but I know that we can be better. We can be good. It’s not too late for us.”

“I love you. I’ve loved you from the very beginning. And I think I will always love you.”

You knew things were over. What gave it away wasn’t the fact that he remained silent, letting both of you simmer in the echo of your words, it wasn’t either that his body had positioned as far away as the couch could allow it, with him almost sitting in its arm.

It was the eyes. The cloudiness in them, along with a mixture of emotions that were happening too fast for you to process. For a millisecond, there was a tenderness that made your heart melt. He wanted it too, you were sure.

That was until you saw the fear.

“I—I can’t.”

Two words and your world shattered.

“What?”

He stood up, beginning to pace back and forth. The fear that you had seen was being replaced with anger.

“We agreed to be just friends. You even said it was for the best.” He argued

“I wasn’t being honest. I was afraid.” You tried to reason with him, but he wasn’t listening. “I was afraid that you didn’t want it, or that this could ruin our friendship.”

“And this isn’t going to ruin us?”

It hurt. He must’ve seen it so he went up to you, his hands cupping your face.

“We are better off being like this.  I’ve never wanted a relationship, and neither have you, and you know it. We care about each other, and sure, we sleep together, but that’s what works out for us. What’s so wrong about being friends who sleep with each other?”

You didn’t answer for a while, your heart trembling in your chest.

“You…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, your throat closing as you fought the tears that wanted to escape your eyes. “You don’t love me?”

His forehead touched yours before answering. “Of course I love you. You have become one of the most important people in my life, and I lo��� I can’t explain the way you make me feel. But this is not about that, I can’t love you the way you want me to love you. What we have is good, why can’t that be enough?”

He loved you but didn’t want to love you. Why?

Because your love was never good enough. That’s why there’s someone else’s underwear stuffed between the cushions. 

You scoffed at him, pulling yourself apart. “Good? You mean is good for you because you get to fuck me and anything that walks without feeling guilty?”

Your words were venomous. You wanted to hurt him, you wanted him to feel like you. And above all, you wanted to win, you wanted him to hurt more than you.

He turned around, looking as if you had just slapped him.

“Don’t fucking start.”

“I mean, that’s all you care about, isn’t it?” You pulled out the underwear and threw it to his face, a shocking expression as he grabbed it with his hand before throwing it away.

“Where did you get that?”

“It was in the fucking couch.” You threw him one of his couch cushions. “Let me guess, Dolores?” you asked, bitterly.

His lack of answer was enough.

You laughed sarcastically. "You’re fucking pathetic, you know that? Honestly, it’s getting really sad to watch you grovel around that upper class bitch, hoping her daddy will let you get an interview in his firm. At least have some self-respect and accept the fact that no matter how many times you screw her, you’re never going to get out of the shithole you were born in.” You got close to his face, so close you could feel his breath on you.

His fists clenched until his knuckles turned white. He was angrier than you had ever seen him before, but the pain in his eyes was the thing that you noticed the most. You had hurt him where it hurt the most.

Good.

Except he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

“At least I’m not the one that came here expecting something more out of this because I’m the only man that has stuck long enough in your life and didn’t just fuck you and leave. Now that’s fucking pathetic.”

Silence. He regretted the moment the words left his mouth as your eyes clouded with tears, but he couldn’t say sorry, not after what he said.

This was the end.

It was always meant to end this way.

“I never meant any of the things I said that night.” Bucky pleaded.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. We can’t change the past.”

You walked away from him, opting instead to look at the city lights outside of the window. Your own reflection welcomed you at the same time, tears ruining what once had been a nicely applied makeup. Dark speckles covered the top of your cheeks; your eyeliner was almost gone, with the puffiness starting to settle instead.

This image seemed way too familiar; the last time you saw it was almost six years ago.

Bucky walked behind you.

“I’m sorry.”

A bitter laugh came out of you unexpectedly. Things never really change, do they?

You whipped your tears away, suddenly feeling as if you had run a marathon. The weight of everything made you think you weren’t going to make it past the doors of the building.

“I’ve heard that before.”

You turned around, little droplets streaming down his face.

“I love you.” His voice trembled.

You came close to him, your hands whipping away his tears.

“And what good has that done to us?”

If you hadn’t been so drowning in the sense of despair that didn’t seem to want to leave you, you might’ve found it funny the fact that every time you were in this room you ended up with a broken heart.

Your words had seemed to leave Bucky speechless as he only stared at you while a thousand thoughts ran through his mind, his eyes coming to the realization that you were right. What good is love when the only thing that you get out of it is pain?

His forehead was warm when you placed a kiss on it, but his body was still not moving. His breath hitched for a second when you cupped his pace, his eyes finally staring at you, empty.

Familiar arms wrapped around you, his arms encasing you in an embrace that yelled misery, a misery that could almost be compared to yours. Your legs started giving in, the imaginary weight of the situation taking a toll on you like nothing before.

People say that the way to stop hating someone is forgiveness. You had healed, you had reflected, and you had learned and forgiven. You had been right before when you said you didn’t hate him anymore; no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t hate him forever.

You knew how to forgive.

But how do you stop loving someone who's hurt you as much as you have them?

“I still love you too,” your lips trembled, a bitter sensation placing on your throat. “Why do I still love you?”

You trapped your love for so long you had convinced yourself it was gone along with the hate. It was only natural, wasn’t it? You had fooled yourself, though. It was always there, burning deep in you along with all the pain it had brought with itself, and now that you allowed yourself to admit it, it came in as if it were the first day.

“I don’t know,” he whispered against your lips. The warmth of his hand against your face made you yearn for a different outcome. “But not even thousands of miles between us and a hundred years could make me forget about you. Nothing can.”

His eyes looked at yours, desperately as if the words were rushing out of his mouth, running out of time.

“Nothing.”

You kissed him.

You kissed him with hunger.

You kissed him with anger.

You kissed him violently, desperately, passionately.

You kissed him with love.

His hands reached back to your zipper with a movement so quick you didn’t know how your dress ended up on the floor. Your chest was exposed as the dress you were wearing couldn’t be worn with a bra. The desire in his eyes made you shudder; his pupils had seemed to grow, and the look on them seemed almost animalistic.

You were like a drug to him, and this was the first time in years he had seen you like this.

Who were you to deny him when he looked at you like that?

You were never a romantic when it came to sex. The slow kisses, the soft touches, and the caresses were never your thing. You craved for the roughness, the possessiveness, and the fire. You were never a romantic when it came to sex, but with Bucky, there was always a layer of care, even in the roughest of times. His eyes always looked at you with a softness that made your heart pound against your chest.

Perhaps sex was never pretty whenever you two were together, but it sure as hell felt amazing.

Somehow his clothes were on the floor along with yours, both of you using them as a way to avoid the coldness of the tile. His hands dragged along your skin, his touch burning you with passion as they made their way down to your underwear. You were thankful you had chosen a semi-sexy pair of black panties instead of the almost grandma but extremely comfortable ones you had thought of. His lips went for your neck, nibbling just a little in the right spot to make your thighs clench.

A part of Bucky was relieved that he hadn’t forgotten how to touch you. He remembered the spot on your neck, right below your ear, that made you shiver. He remembered the way you liked when he toyed with you, his fingers just barely brushing against your slit over your panties. Your nails scratched his arm, a confirmation for him that you needed more of him.

Bites and licks traveled down your body, invading your senses. Your hands pulled on his hair hard, guiding him to kiss you again as your hands pulled down the edge of his boxers. You couldn’t take him anymore; you needed him now.

You both looked like teenagers, fighting to get out of the final remnant of your clothes while looking desperate to finally be able to fuck. In any other situation, you would’ve laughed at the sight of it, but now there was nothing you could think of more than having Bucky inside you.

Perhaps deep down you were still those dumb teenagers.

His fingers played with your clit, drawing slow and dragged circles that overloaded all your nerve endings. He knew the pace you liked, the muscle memory acting by itself. In return, yours also acted the same, drawing small little circles on the top of his cock. His breath hitched once your finger dragged along the vein of his cock.

One of his hands went to your neck, pressing slightly hard.

“You missed this, didn’t you?” He whispered against your ear. You couldn’t talk, the hand on your neck making sure of that, so you nodded. “I missed this too, angel.”

His fingers made their way inside you, your wetness letting them go inside easily as he reached inside for that little spot you loved so much. You couldn’t control the moans that came out of your mouth, and you were thankful there wasn’t anyone else on this floor.

You were getting close, your thighs clenching along with your walls, but his fingers left you once you were on the edge. You opened your eyes to look at him, anger clear on them, but you just saw him placing himself between your legs, his body on top of yours.

He was bigger than you remembered, his cock sliding into you slowly, allowing you to take your time to get used to him. You were waiting for the hard thrusts as soon as he knew you were ready, but instead he cupped one on your cheeks.

He kissed you.

He kissed you, but it wasn’t like before.

It wasn’t filled only with lust, dominance, and passion.

His lips tasted sweeter, his touch seemed warmer, but most importantly, his feelings were different.

He was kissing you with so much love it was almost overwhelming. He wasn’t stopping himself from showing it anymore; he allowed himself for the first time to be honest with you, but above all with himself.

He loved you.

He loved you intentionally and wholeheartedly.

He loved you eternally.

The sunrise shine began to make its way above the darkness. A couple of glasses with whiskey and a packet of crackers lay in front as you covered yourselves with a blanket he kept for when he stayed.

His fingers were drawing lazy circles on your skin as you were playing with his hair. A few stray kisses would sometimes land in your cheek, making you giggle like a teenager.

“Angel,” He called your attention, his eyes looking nervous. Your mind raced as you waited for him to find the words he wanted to say.

Maybe he was about to say it was a mistake. Maybe he had a girlfriend he hadn’t told you about. Maybe he was trying to kick you out.

Thought after thought flooded your mind until he spoke.

“I’m sorry.”

His words took you by surprise.

“I–“

“Wait,” he interrupted you. “I need to say this before chicken out again.”

You nodded, unsure of how you felt.

“Remember the first time we met?” He asked, a warm smile placed on his lips. You nodded again, the same smile on yours. “I don’t think I’ve told you this, but I was ready to make a move on you as soon as I saw you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Well, Nat kind of warned me not to try anything. I didn’t really matter anyway; if anything, it made you seem more enticing.”

He chuckled as you rolled your eyes. Bucky was always Bucky.

“Anyways, when I first got to the bar, you were with Wanda and Nat while you were doing shots with them, and Wanda said something that made you laugh, and you ended up spitting your drink all over me as I was about to introduce myself.”

The once uncomfortable moment had lost its awkwardness and was now a funny memory to you.

“I don’t blame you for not sleeping with me after that; having tequila in my eyes would really put me out of the mood too.”

He chuckled.

“It wasn’t great, but it didn’t really put me off.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” He said as he played with your hair. “You took me to the bathroom and helped me clean my eyes on the sink, and you started to say the most outlandish shit ever.”

The cringe got in you, your body slightly retracting itself as you remembered everything you said.

“I was drunk and nervous. Besides, I thought you might sue me because Nat told me you were a law student.”

“I considered it.” He joked. “I knew I liked you from that very moment.” He whispered, almost as if he were doing it with fear. “I never met anyone that made me laugh like that; even when it felt like my eyes were melting out of their sockets, all I could do was laugh at everything you said.”

Your hand reached to his chest, trying to give him the push he needed to keep going.

“I also remember the moment I realized I loved you. Remember that fight we had at Quentin’s party?”

“Which one?”

“The one with John Walker.”

“What are you even getting angry about?” He yelled as he chased you.

You were fighting against a sea of drunk college students, and the more you fought, the more you found yourself being pushed around. You heard him behind you, calling your name, but you had no intention of hearing him. You weren’t even sure why you were so angry, but you knew that you had to get away from him.

His arm finally reached you, dragging you to the side.

“Leave me the fuck alone.”

“What the fuck is your problem?” The smell of beer hit your nostrils as soon as he spoke. It was strong—almost too strong.

You shook off his hand.

“My problem is that you supposedly left to get me a drink, and then when I go looking for you, you’re getting all cozy with Dolores, and you just forgot about me.”

He rolled his eyes.

“She stopped me to talk; what was I going to do? Ignore her?”

“Maybe. But what you don’t do is tell me you’re going to be back and disappear for forty minutes.”

“Are you mad because I didn’t come back or because I was talking to Dot?”

Dot.

What a fucking asshole.

“I don’t care who you talk to, but you don’t leave your supposedly best friend stranded like that.”

“Well, sorry for thinking that my best friend was a grown woman that could take care of herself. I didn’t know you needed me to be by your side all the time.”

He didn’t mean that. He shouldn’t have left you alone in a party this big, not when it was only the two of you out of your friend group.

“Then why the fuck you brought me here if you were just going to fuck off as soon as we got here? You’re basically the only one I know here.”

“Then go make some friends.” He should’ve stopped there. If he hadn’t been drunk, maybe he would’ve just said sorry, and you two could’ve had a good time. Unfortunately, his brain and his mouth would sometimes lose against his own stupidity. “Maybe you’ll even find someone that’ll take that stick out of your ass too.”

Your eyes watered for a second, but you were never going to let him see you cry.

“Fuck you.” You muttered before submerging yourself in the sea of people again.

You drank.

The more you drank, the angrier you got. And the angrier you got, the more you wanted to hurt him and forget.

The next time Bucky saw you, you were on top of John Walker, your mouth against his as his hands squeezed your ass.

“When I saw you with him,“ his voice faltered. “It hurt. I thought it hurt because you were with fucking John Walker and I fucking hated his guts, but it wasn’t just that. Even if you had been with a random guy I’ve never seen before, it would’ve still hurt the same.”

“Bucky…” You try to apologize, but he’s quick enough to stop you.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad. It’s my fault how all of this ended. If I had been honest with myself about you, then none of this would’ve happened. I have loved you for so long I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to not love you, and now that I have finally said it, I don’t think I want to forget, even if we are not together.”

You didn’t say a word, not sure that you would be able to talk without breaking down, but when you saw his eyes, you couldn’t stop it.

“We hurt each other so much, didn’t we?” He nodded, a sad chuckle along with it.

The irony of it. Love could conquer everything, except the pain that you had caused each other.

“I’m sorry too.” You whispered. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for wanting to hurt you.”

His arm went over your shoulders, squeezing you tightly against him.

“I’m sorry for disappearing; I know it hurt you when I left. Steve tried to tell me, but I wouldn’t listen, but I could see he was worried.”

“It was rough.” He hesitated to answer, not wanting to make you feel worse about it.

“I’m sorry for everything.”

His lips kissed the top of your head, both of you turning to see the sunrise.

“I forgave you a long time ago.” He whispered. “Can you forgive me?”

You smiled as you squeezed his hand. “I forgave you a long time ago too.”

You didn’t say anything for a while, deciding on just taking in the view of the city that was once your home. And just like that, sitting on the floor with Bucky at your side, you finally felt your heart truly healing.

“I missed this.” He said.

“Me too.”

“We should’ve taken a cab.” He said, watching you walk uncomfortably.

“And miss the opportunity to get this fucking deliciousness? No fucking way.” You take another big bite of your bagel, squeezing it a little too hard and making the side push out the cream cheese. “Besides, we’re almost there.”

After a couple more blocks of walking, talking, and eating, you finally reach your hotel. Once you get to the steps, you hop out of the uncomfortable heels that had been punishing your feet for the whole walk, a sigh of relief so loud it made Bucky laugh.

“Well, this is my stop.” You gesture towards the building behind you.

“Yeah.”

A certain heavyness settles on both. You don’t want to say goodbye.

“I didn’t even ask you, how long are you staying for?”

“A couple of days more. I still need to catch up with everyone else.”

“Good, good.”

He’s the one to hug you first. His arms around your waist pushed you against him, the small remnants of his cologne filling your nostrils. Your arms clung on to him, clutching him in between them.

Minutes went by, and you were the first one to let go as you kissed his cheek.

“Don’t be a stranger.” You said.

You walked up the steps towards the entrance of the hotel, your mind just now processing everything that had happened that night. You never thought you would talk to him again, let alone spend a whole night with him.

It was a good night.

It was a good goodbye.

Your hand reached out to open the door to the lobby, but Bucky called your name. You turned around, not sure what he was going to say.

“Do you think you could love me one last time?”

You smiled at him. The so-ever dramatic and romantic Bucky Barnes had never changed. He laughed along with you, knowing you found him a little ridiculous.

“I’ll see you around Jamie.” You said as you turned around.

None of you were sure what was next. Maybe it was best if you stayed friends and rebuilt the relationship you both had tainted so badly. Or maybe this was a new opportunity for something that could be the best thing of your lives, or perhaps it was the last time you saw each other. Whatever it was, you were sure of one thing. You were never going to lie about your feelings again, and neither would he.

If you like the story please interact: reblogs, likes and comments go a long way. Feedback is always appreciated! Feel free to message me about it.

[dduane]

I just read the part where Kirk experiences the Enterprise's point of view in The Wounded Sky to someone else, where she sees the crew as children she is training up to the Great Desire of exploration for exploration's sake, especially Jim. His reaction, essentially: "That was really pretty. ....And then he blows her up."

I hadn't thought about that before! I checked the copyright date, and it looks like The Wounded Sky came out a year before The Search for Spock, so you were writing without knowing that sacrifice would eventually happen.

How did you feel about that? Do you wish that writing decision had been made differently? (If, as a Trek writer, you're allowed to comment on other Trek writers' choices!)

You know, I tend not to think a whole lot about such issues. First of all, because (in the long run) it gets you nowhere in particular that's useful. And secondly, because it's not a thing that, as a Trek writer in any medium except film, you have the slightest power to change.

Now, at this end of time I think we can safely say that no one's going to hire me on to write a Trek film. And also that no one at that end of the creative spectrum is going to pay the slightest attention to anything I say, either. Both of those situations are just What's So, and neither of them bothers me. (Since I have universes of my own to manage at the moment, and that's where my attention properly lies.) So as regards my opinions about other writers' work, I'm pretty much off the hook.

If I had been on screenwriting duty for that film, would there be things I'd have wanted to do differently? Hell yeah. From the premise up. But the important thing here is: would those things necessarily have worked better on the screen / with the audience? Impossible to tell. And speaking as someone repeatedly given permission to work in someone's universe, the main thing to be aware of is the expectation that your chief responsibility is to do what best serves the characters and the IP of which they're part. (There's a post over at Out of Ambit with a lot more of my thoughts on the subject:)

The other thing to remember is that, though I've worn the Canonical Hat in my time, novel work is by definition non-canonical. Doing it, you are at all times working with the understanding that the licensor rarely views your work as anything better than a corporate side hustle—a way for the IP to make some cash on the side—and will ignore you and the stuff you've created unless given pressing reasons to do otherwise. (Such as when they might make some unexpected money off it... at which point you remind yourself as forcibly as necessary that what you did is Work For Hire; they own it, lock, stock and barrel, and you should not realistically expect to be given any credit.)

And, if you understand the rules and enjoy the work enough, all of this is okay. The reward is not in making a lot of money doing it, or even in having aspects of your work openly assumed into canon. The reward lies in being allowed to contribute to a given universe in public (and, yeah, getting paid for it by the licensor). It's not payback: it's payforward. And you're left an astonishing amount of freedom to bring your vision to that universe. (Sometimes... as one colleague has McCoy say... you have to be "very, very careful" to get away with it. But it can be done.)

The truth is that even in the 1980s, I was sharing this level of playing-in-a-universe with a goodish cohort of editors and writers: a big roomful at least. Now I'm sharing it (retroactively speaking) with hundreds of them. With the best will in the world, even in the 80's the licensors (as regarded film) couldn't have realistically polled/listened to all of us regarding our creative opinions about the screenplay end of things. As for what that'd look like nowadays... I'll leave you to your own deductions. 😏

Anyway, thanks for the question. It's always nice to know that there are people who want to know what you think. 😊

[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: A Pirate's Promise

This gif cause wait til yall read that section (hehe), like hell I would have folded too...

This gif because we get Cavendish in this also! and well I tell you its hilarious and next chapter too.

Chapter 32: Blood and Bounty

A/N: We are back at it again with another Chapter! Woot! This was originally suppose to be posted yesterday but I had been working on more chapters and I completely forgot, we are getting to the long awaited fight yall! we got some Sabo, Sanji and Y/N POVs. And in the next chapters we get some more Sanji POV, to see how he is holding up with everything and what is going on in Zou… I cant wait for you guys to read these chapters!, Thank you guys for everything! And without further a do let the adventure begin!. Also P.S the masterlist will be available tomorrow!

Word Count: 5.7K 

Sanji X Reader, Sanji x Y/N, One piece X Reader 

Sabo POV…

As Doflamingo continued his announcement, he began naming the 12 individuals with bounties, promising rewards to those who could bring him their heads. His voice echoed menacingly through the palace, and with each name, my jaw dropped further in disbelief.

“Now for the head hunchos, worth three hundred million berries each…” Doflamingo declared. My name popped up first, followed by Luffy, Law, and King Riku. My jaw dropped. “Looks like you have some fans,” Hack commented, a mix of amusement and concern in his voice.

“Seriously!” I said, my voice tinged with frustration.

Doflamingo continued, “And the final one for this tier…” As the name “Usopp” appeared, worth 500 million berries, I let out a relieved breath. “Good, Y/N isn’t in any danger,” I thought.

But my relief was short-lived. “And lastly, as an added bonus, we have the six-star bounty worth 600 million berries,” Doflamingo said. My heart sank as I braced myself. “Please don’t tell me it’s…”

The image of you appeared on the screen. You weren’t in the outfit I left you with. Instead, you wore a red corset dress and a red ruby tiara, your appearance a cruel mockery of your dignity. My blood boiled. “Bastard!” I gritted through clenched teeth, fire beginning to emit from my clenched fists.

“Sabo…” Koala said, sensing my rage. “Calm down.”

Doflamingo’s voice grew even more sinister. “This princess… is to be brought to me alive. That’s right, alive. For those of you wondering why… well, let’s just say I have special plans for her. After all, royalty deserves a proper welcome.” His voice dripped with malice. “And once I have her, I’ll make sure she never escapes my grasp again.”

Beside us, Bartelomeo was geeking out at your image still displayed for all to see. “The beautiful Princess Y/N looks even more stunning in red!” he said, tears streaming down his face. “I can’t believe she’s actually here!”

“Quite the fanboy, isn’t he?” I remarked, trying to mask my fury with a forced calmness.

“Ah, this is the infamous woman you speak about every so often, Sabo,” Hack said, a hint of understanding in his voice.

“Mmm, she’s... incredible,” I muttered, barely holding back my anger. “She means everything to me.”

Nearby, murmurs from the pirates and civilians filled the air. “Did you see her? She looks amazing, even if she’s in danger.”

“Six hundred million berries for her? She must be important.”

“There’s no way someone with a bounty like hers isn’t the deadliest pirate out there. I’ve heard rumors—she’s not just some princess. She’s lethal.”

I gritted my teeth, the flames around my fists flaring up as I fought the urge to punch something. The idea that they were talking about you like some prize or target, especially after what Doflamingo said, made my blood boil.

"Hey! I spot some 1 stars, and a 3 star!" yelled a pirate from behind us, pointing in our direction.

Koala instantly tensed up, her fists clenched and ready for a fight. "Sabo, what do we do?" she asked, eyes darting to me.

I quickly scanned the surroundings. "We need to make our escape. Get to the surface, hurry!" I ordered, leading the group as Robin, Bartolomeo, Hack, Rebecca, Koala, and I bolted from the chasing bounty hunters.

As we raced through the underground of the colosseum, Robin pulled out her transponder snail. "Zoro?" she said, breathless but composed.

"Yeah?" Zoro's voice came through, rough but calm as usual.

"Where are you?" Robin asked as we weaved through narrow alleys, trying to keep our pace.

"I think it’s called King’s Plateau. Anyway, I’m here with Luffy, Y/N, Viola, Riku, and Law," Zoro replied.

"Y/N!" Her name instantly grabbed my attention. Relief washed over me for a moment. So she's with Luffy... I thought. At least she'll be safe with him for the time being.

"Things are getting a bit messy, aren’t they?" Zoro continued.

"Hey, Robin!" Luffy’s voice chimed in, his usual energy evident even through the snail. "Did you see Mingo? Man, he makes me so mad!"

"You and me both, Captain. That bastard’s got another thing coming, that’s for sure," she said onto the transponder snail, feeling a surge of anger again.

Finally hearing your voice over the transponder snail, took every ounce of self-control not to grab it from Robin’s hand. Just hearing you made my chest tighten.

"The whole thing with Usopp is pretty hilarious, though," Luffy laughed, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

"Shut up, Luffy!" Usopp yelled, clearly not amused by the situation.

"Come on, Usopp," you chimed in, trying to stifle a laugh. "You gotta admit, it was kind of funny."

"Ohh, you’re one to talk, Miss 600 Million Berri bounty!" Usopp shot back, his voice strained as he was carried by the Tontattas. "What did you do to piss him off so much that he’d slap you with that amount?"

"Simple," you said, frustration lacing your voice. "I kicked his ass three times, outsmarted him every chance I got, and, above all, I won’t back down to him. So, yeah, he’s got it out for me bad. What’s worse is the whole island’s probably hunting me down, and I can’t even change out of this outfit!"

"Don’t worry!" Luffy cut in, his usual confident tone lifting the weight of the situation. "I’m going to give Doflamingo the beating of his life! Make sure you all live to see it, okay? I’ll end this stupid game in no time, so just stay safe, you hear me?"

I clenched my fists tighter, both proud of your defiance and angry at the situation that put you in such danger. Luffy’s words were comforting, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t be rushing to find you myself.

The transponder call ended, leaving us all momentarily silent as we continued running.

Y/N POV…

Luffy ended the call with Robin, and I exhaled, trying to ease the tension running through me. Releasing my hair from its bun, the tiara slipped from its place, and I held it gently in my hands. But my thoughts were far away, with Sanji. A pang of guilt hit me as I whispered, “Sanji, wherever you are… I hope you’re safe. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

I turned to King Riku, who was kneeling, tears streaming down his face, clearly lost in painful memories of that tragic night. Viola stood quietly beside him, offering support. I stepped forward, holding the tiara out toward him.

“King Riku,” I said softly, gaining his attention. “This tiara belongs to you. Doflamingo may have put this ridiculous outfit on me, but this crown… it was never mine to wear.”

King Riku’s eyes filled with emotion as he slowly looked up. “Princess Y/N…”

“No,” I shook my head, interrupting him. “I’m not a princess, not really. Although my wanted posters dub me as ‘Princess Y/N,’ that title… It was given to me by King who rules the all male island. But in truth, I’m simply Y/N.”

My words lingering in the air. I held out the tiara again. “This crown… it belongs to its rightful rulers.” 

King Riku stood there for a moment, eyes filled with emotion, but he shook his head with a soft smile. “No, Y/N. This tiara represents more than just royalty—it represents strength, honor, and the will to protect others. You’ve earned that, and more. Keep it, as a reminder of what you’re doing for Dressrosa, and for what you stand for.”

I stared at the tiara, the weight of his words sinking in. Before I could respond, Luffy chimed in with his usual boisterous tone. “Yeah! You’re not just a princess on paper. You’re our princess too! A badass one!”

Viola smiled at me warmly. “It suits you, Y/N. Not because of what the world sees, but because of who you are to all of us.”

I hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly, feeling a strange sense of acceptance. “Alright… but I’m still just Y/N. I’ll never stop fighting for what I believe in, tiara or not.” 

As I gently placed the tiara on my head, my gaze lingered on Law, still cuffed in sea prism stone handcuffs. His shirtless torso was covered only by his coat, the exhaustion clear in his face despite his usual stoic demeanor. Feeling a pull toward him, I walked over and rested my head on his shoulder, the warmth of his skin easing some of my own tension.

I sighed, feeling a sense of calm wash over me as I pressed closer. "You know," I whispered, my breath teasing his neck, "even with all that’s going on, you still manage to make being chained up look good."

His body tensed slightly at my words, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he tilted his head just enough to glance down at me, his eyes meeting mine. A flicker of something passed between us.

"Is that so?" he said, his voice low and teasing, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "I thought you preferred me when I’m free to use my hands."

I chuckled softly, tracing a finger along his chest. "Maybe I do. But I think I like this view too." I bit my lip, holding his gaze a moment longer before I pulled back slightly, feeling the weight of exhaustion but also the warmth of the moment between us.

After a few minutes of silence, Law’s voice cut through the air. “Do you even know what you’re doing, Strawhat?” he asked, drawing the attention of Luffy and Zoro.

“Maybe you need a reminder,” Law continued, his frustration clear. “We needed to destroy the factory to provoke a conflict between Kaido and Doflamingo. Did it ever cross your mind that if we kill Doflamingo prematurely, it’ll just redirect Kaido’s wrath towards us? Is that what you want—taking on an enraged emperor?”

I stood up, meeting Law’s gaze with a determined expression. “Listen, Law,” I said, “sometimes things don’t go as planned. You have to ride with the current or risk being swept away. We can’t always control everything.”

Luffy chimed in, his voice urgent. “Did you even think about the Kingdom? If we take it out now, what happens to them?”

I turned to Luffy, understanding the weight of his words. “I know it’s complicated,” I said, trying to stay calm. “But we have to make decisions and deal with the consequences as they come. We can’t let fear of what might happen stop us from acting.” 

Luffy’s rubber arms pulled us into a tight group hug with him, Zoro, and Law. “Well, let’s go!” he said cheerfully.

“Wait! What about my handcuffs?” Law said, clearly frustrated.

“They’ll fall off... eventually,” Luffy said, waving off Law’s concern.

“That’s not how it works!” Law argued.

“Luffy, maybe there’s another way down!” I suggested, pressed closely against Zoro due to the tight squeeze.

Zoro’s gaze drifted from my chest to my face, his eyes lingering with a mischievous glint. “You’ve got a way of making things... unforgettable,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

I shifted uncomfortably, trying to maintain my balance. “Not exactly the kind of unforgettable I had in mind,” I replied, a hint of warmth in my cheeks.

Zoro’s smirk widened, his eyes meeting mine with a playful intensity. “Well, it’s certainly a memorable situation,” he said, his gaze moving from my eyes to the subtle contours of my corset. “You know, it’s hard not to notice how… close we’re getting.”

I met his gaze, feeling the heat rise in my face. “You’re really not making this any easier, Zoro,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

He chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Just making the best of a tight situation,” he said, his tone light but warm.

“One sec, I’ll help,” Viola said, her voice steady. “You know where the key is?” Law asked.

“Sorta, it fell, so it has to be somewhere around the plateau. Hold on, I’ll look…” Viola began, but Luffy was already moving.

“You know how we’re getting there?” Zoro asked as Luffy sprinted with us.

“Yeah, straight through!” Luffy replied, preparing to jump.

“Luffy, wait!” I called out as Luffy leaped off the plateau, taking us with him. I screamed, feeling the rush of the descent.

“Y/N! Grab on!” Zoro shouted, his hand reaching out. I grasped it tightly, holding on as we landed with a jolt.

Luffy and Law landed first, then Zoro and I touched down. I was still holding onto Zoro’s hand, feeling the warmth of his grip.

“That was some ride, Luffy,” I said, trying to steady my breath.

Zoro looked at me with a smirk. “Well, I guess you’re not letting go of me anytime soon,” he said, his eyes lingering on our clasped hands before meeting my gaze. “Could be worse, though. At least you’re holding on to someone reliable.”

I felt a flush creeping up my cheeks at his words, a playful smile tugging at my lips. “I suppose I’m just trying to avoid another surprise landing,” I teased.

Before Zoro could respond, Law, still shackled, interjected with a touch of irritation. “Zoro, back off,” he said firmly.

The spot that Luffy had choosen however, was surrounded by marines, and pirates, looking to claim their bounty. “Dammit, Luffy! You just had to pick this spot,” I muttered, grabbing both my blades from the thigh halter. The familiar yellow light began to emanate from them, casting a warm glow in the chaos.

“Hey, Strawhat!” Law shouted, struggling against Luffy’s grip. “When these cuffs are off, I’ll kill you myself!”

“Law, now is not the time for threats,” I said, stepping closer to Zoro as guns and blades were pointed at us, surrounding us.

“Come on, Law,” Zoro said, drawing his swords. “No place is safe. We’re targets wherever we go.”

“Don’t let them escape!” one of the bounty hunters yelled. “It’s the 2-3 stars, a 2 star, and the 6 star!”

“We’ve got to move!” I shouted. “Zoro, cover me.” 

“What?!” Zoro responded, still running beside me.

“Just do it!” I urged, feeling the weight of our situation pressing down on us. “I’m going to block their path!”

Without waiting for further confirmation, I leaped into the air, the glow of my blades lighting up the surrounding chaos. “There she is!” someone shouted from below. “Get her!”

In midair, I raised my right leg and spun, gathering energy for my attack. “Tremor Strike!” I called out as my foot descended. The impact created a powerful tremor, causing the ground to shake violently. The force sent several of the bounty hunters tumbling and created deep cracks in the earth.

As I landed, I saw the stunned faces of the hunters and the damage I had caused. The path was now clear, at least for a moment, allowing us to continue our escape.

I began to catch up with Zoro, Luffy, and Law, breathing heavily as I wiped the sweat from my brow. My blades still glowed with a faint yellow light, a testament to their power.

“Well, I bought us some time,” I said, catching my breath.

Zoro turned to assess the damage with a smirk on his face. “Nice job,” he said, his gaze lingering on me with a hint of admiration. “You really know how to make an entrance.”

Luffy, still carrying Law, glanced back at us with his usual exuberance. “Great work, Y/N!” he shouted, his grin wide. 

Just then, a figure appeared next to Luffy, running alongside him. “Big brother Law! It’s so good to see you!” the voice called out with excitement.

“Who’s that?!” I asked, my gaze shifting to the newcomer.

“That’s Dellinger,” Law warned, his tone serious. “Take extra precautions with him.”

Dellinger was already closing in on me. “My, my, and you must be the princess the young master wants,” he said with a smirk, aiming a swift kick in my direction.

I deftly dodged the kick, my movements precise. “Hahaha, not bad,” Dellinger chuckled, clearly amused.

Suddenly, Luffy stumbled, his voice filled with confusion. “I tripped, some weird swimming man baby grabbed me,” he said, looking back.

“Luffy!” I shouted, alarmed.

“Vice, you’re up!” the man baby called out as Vice appeared overhead, preparing to crush him with his weight powers.

“Watch out! He’ll crush you with his super weight powers!” Law shouted, urgency in his voice.

Luffy managed to avoid the initial attack but found himself in a tight spot.

Dellinger appeared in front of Luffy, preparing to strike. “Last time I made a boo-boo—pistol heel” he sneered, readying a kick.

Without hesitation, I sprang into action, lifting my left leg and dashing towards Luffy. In a fluid motion, I positioned myself next to Dellinger and landed a powerful blow to the side of his torso, sending him crashing into a nearby building with a resounding thud.

Zoro turned around sharply, his expression serious. “Let’s go!” he commanded.

“Right!” both Luffy and I replied, ready to move.

But just as we attempted to advance, we were blocked by a group of pirates, their expressions eager. “Hold up! You guys are worth 800 million berries, and they’ve got the Princess with them too!” they exclaimed.

“Crap, Zoro, got any ideas?” I asked, my stance still tense and ready for action.

“Damn, what a pain,” Zoro muttered, scanning the area for a way out.

Before we could react further, a familiar voice cut through the chaos. “Shut it down!”

“It’s Fujitora!” I said, recognizing the authoritative tone.

“It’s the gambling old guy!” Luffy said, his voice tinged with frustration as we now faced a new challenge. 

Sanji POV..

My frustration was palpable as I paced the deck of the ship. “Damn it! Why isn’t this thing picking up?” I growled, slamming the transponder snail down.

Brook, sipping his tea, glanced up with a concerned look. “I’m sorry, Sanji. The signal’s not coming through.”

My anxiety was mounting. “I can’t stand this! My angel Y/N could be hurt! She could’ve been shot by Doflamingo!” I said my voice was tight with worry.

“You heard her say ‘Damn it!’ and then a bullet fired. She could be in serious danger!” I started pacing faster, the gripping on my hair becoming tighter.

Brook’s gaze softened with sympathy. “Sanji, you’ve got to keep your cool. We’re all worried about her.”

I ran a hand through my hair, already having gone through three cigarettes. “I should’ve stayed behind. We should’ve gone back! I can’t just sit here and do nothing!”

“Sanji, relax!” Nami’s voice cut through his panic. “Have faith that Luffy and the others will reach her.”

I shook my head, frustration evident in my eyes. “I can’t just wait around. I need to know if Mosshead managed to get to her in time.”

Unable to contain myself any longer, I stormed upstairs to cool off. I stumbled into a room that I hadn’t seen in a while—Y/N’s room. The sight of her belongings brought a fresh wave of sorrow. Her sword was tightly wrapped in a corner, and the shirt I had given her to sleep in was sprawled out on the bed.

I picked up the shirt, holding it close to my chest, my voice trembling as I spoke softly to the empty room. “Y/N, please, please be okay.”

I laid down on the bed, the memory of a night I had cherished rushing back to me. I remembered the first time I had seen her in this bed, wearing my shirt and looking so adorable. I was about to leave when Y/N had pulled me close, cuddling against my chest while still asleep.

With a choked sob, I gently laid my head on her pillow, trying to find some comfort in the memory. “I didn’t want that night to end. I just wanted to hold you close and keep you safe.”

The room was quiet, save for my muffled sobs, and the only thing I could do now was hope that Luffy and the others were making their way to you in time.

Y/N POV… 

We were all silent, Fujitora's presence unnerving, every one of us on high alert. Surrounded.

"I'm about to go kick Doflamingo's sorry ass, you're in my way!" Luffy said with defiance, his voice echoing across the square.

"That's quite a mouth on you," Fujitora replied calmly, his blind eyes unwavering, "but it'll take more than words to shake me."

Without hesitation, Luffy dropped Law with a heavy thud onto the ground, causing me to quickly make my way over to him, kneeling down to assess the situation. My eyes darted between Law and Fujitora, feeling the weight of the moment.

Luffy charged forward with Armament Haki, fists darkened and ready to strike. Yet, to all of our surprise, Fujitora effortlessly blocked the attack with his blade.

"How is he blocking Luffy's attack?" I muttered, watching in disbelief.

"He's using that weird technique again!" Zoro growled as he lunged at Fujitora, swords clashing with the Admiral’s blade, each strike getting blocked like it was nothing.

Just then, the ground began to shake violently, the rumble unsettling everyone. "What the hell is happening now?!" I said, trying to keep my balance as the earth seemed to quake beneath us.

Our gazes locked onto a massive stone figure rising from the ground, its size towering over the battlefield.

"What the hell is that?!" Luffy exclaimed, eyes wide.

"The wall guy?!" Zoro echoed, disbelief lacing his tone.

"Any fool who opposes our family shall be dealt with by me!" Pica's voice boomed, but it was absurdly high-pitched, completely mismatching his imposing figure.

The moment he spoke, Luffy, Zoro, and I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Luffy was the first to burst into laughter, doubling over. "Hahaha, his voice!" he cackled.

"It's funny!" I said, barely able to contain my own laughter as I pointed at the stone giant.

Pica, clearly insulted by our laughter, took action, his massive stone arm swinging down to crush us.

Zoro, Luffy, and I bolted, with Luffy grabbing Law and carrying him as we scrambled to avoid the blow.

"We didn't think this part through, huh Luffy?" I shouted, glancing back as the enormous fist came crashing down.

"Y/N, Luffy! You two really gotta stop screwing with the enemy," Zoro huffed, but even he couldn't hold back a snicker.

Just then, Luffy stumbled, losing his grip on Law and falling behind. Zoro and I both turned our heads, shouting in unison, "Luffy!"

Before we could react, Pica’s powerful punch slammed into the ground, the force of the impact sending both Zoro and me flying into the air.

"Luffy!" we both yelled again, spinning through the sky as the force of the blast threw us like ragdolls. Zoro’s hand shooting out to grab mine. He pulled me close, twisting mid-fall to shield me from the impact. We crashed hard onto the ground, Zoro taking the brunt of it as I landed directly on top of him, my face buried against his neck.

For a moment, everything was still. His chest rose and fell beneath me, his steady breathing almost calming against the chaos around us. Zoro’s strong arms were wrapped around me, holding me securely in place.

“You alright, Y/N?” His voice was low, almost amused, as if the entire situation was nothing more than a minor inconvenience to him.

“I think so…” I managed, slowly lifting my head, my heart pounding as I realized the position we were in. My cheeks flushed instantly, and I couldn’t help but notice the way Zoro’s smirk deepened as he stared up at me.

“You sure?” he teased, his voice laced with mischief. “You don’t seem so steady. Maybe you should stay right here.”

I froze, my face inches from his, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. His grip on my waist tightened slightly, holding me in place as if he wasn’t in any hurry to move.

“Zoro…” I began, trying to push myself off him, but his hand slid up, gently tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered there, brushing against my cheek before slowly tracing along my jaw.

“I think I like this position,” he murmured, his eyes darkening with a hint of something more. “You on top of me like this… feels kind of nice.”

I stared at him, my breath catching in my throat. His hand remained on my waist, his thumb brushing against the fabric of my dress, the touch sending a wave of heat through me.

“Don’t get any ideas,” I shot back, trying to sound stern, but my voice wavered, betraying me.

“Oh, I’ve already got a few,” Zoro smirked, his gaze flicking from my eyes to my lips. His free hand rested on my lower back, keeping me close, as if he had no intention of letting go anytime soon. “You look comfortable right there.”

I swallowed, feeling my heart race. “I… I should get up.”

“Should you?” he teased, his voice dropping lower as his thumb traced circles against my waist. “You’re not complaining much. Maybe you like it here too.”

I tried to form a coherent response, but his teasing, combined with the intimacy of our position, left me completely flustered. I felt his breath brush against my cheek as he leaned in slightly, his lips just inches from mine.

“Zoro…” I whispered, but before I could say anything else, he tilted his head, brushing his lips against the shell of my ear.

“Admit it,” he whispered, his voice husky, “you don’t mind being this close.”

I blushed deeper, my mind racing as I felt his fingers tighten slightly on my waist, his body warm beneath mine. He wasn’t letting me go anytime soon—not until he had his fun.

“You’re impossible,” I finally managed, trying to regain some sense of control, but Zoro’s teasing grin only widened.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’” he said, finally loosening his hold just enough for me to move. But before I could fully pull away, he caught my hand, his thumb brushing gently over my knuckles.

I shot him a glare, my heart still pounding as I stood, but the teasing glint in his eyes made it clear he was enjoying every second of this.

Zoro stretched as he got up, his smirk never fading. “You might want to watch where you fall next time… unless you plan on making a habit of it.”

I rolled my eyes, my face still flushed, but I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. “You’re insufferable.”

“Maybe,” Zoro said with a lazy grin, “but you didn’t seem to mind.” His playful tone made me flush slightly, though I tried to ignore it as we continued to search for Luffy and Law.

“Luffy!” I called out, my voice echoing in the surrounding chaos. “Law!” Zoro added, his frustration evident. We looked around, searching for any sign of them.

“I have no clue where they could be…” Zoro was cut off mid-sentence by Luffy’s enthusiastic shout.

“Hey! Zoro! Y/N! Hi! We are up here! Up here!” Luffy’s laughter carried through the air.

“Luffy!” we yelled in unison, relief washing over us as we followed the sound. As we approached, Luffy fell on top of Law, laughing uncontrollably.

“Get your ass off of me! What’s wrong with you! You know I’m injured!” Law’s voice was filled with annoyance.

Both Zoro and I exchanged a knowing look before turning back to the scene in front of us. “I’m starting to think that you want us all killed,” Law grumbled, still in his sea prism handcuffs. “Laughing at Pika’s voice is a death sentence on its own.”

“Well, his voice was kind of funny,” I said, giggling despite the situation.

“That stone bastard is something else,” Zoro said, scratching his head. “Damn, never thought we’d see someone bigger than Oars, but here we are. How am I supposed to fight someone that size?”

Just then, both Zoro and I sensed a new presence approaching. “Strawhat,” a voice called out. We turned around to see a figure approaching.

“Cabbage!” Luffy exclaimed, recognizing him.

“Cabbage?” I muttered, puzzled by the name.

The man’s eyes narrowed as he looked at each of us. “Pirate Hunter Zoro, I presume? Trafalgar Law, is it?” He eyed Law with disdain. “And you,” his gaze fell on me, “you’re the infamous Princess Y/N, aren’t you?”

Before I could react, he pulled out his blade and made a move towards me. My eyes widened in shock, but Zoro was faster. He grabbed my arm and pulled me out of harm’s way just in time.

“You worst generation scoundrels!” the man spat, his anger palpable. “Why do you steal all the glory from me!”

Zoro’s grip on my arm was firm but reassuring, and I glanced at him gratefully.

“Stop yelling! Got a beef with my crewmates or something?!” Luffy shouted, his usual carefree demeanor overshadowed by the seriousness of the situation.

“I’m not in your crew!,” Law snapped back, clearly irritated.

“Let me guess, you still have a grudge against us?” Luffy asked, crossing his arms.

“You’re wrong,” Cabbage said, his tone unexpectedly calm. “I shall no longer be a threat to the Straw Hats.”

“You sure about that? Because that dent on the ground says otherwise,” I said, pulling away from Zoro’s embrace.

Cabbage’s eyes softened, and he continued, “It’s because of your brave crewmate, God Usopp. He selflessly saved me from a life of doom and gloom.”

“Usopp did that?” Zoro asked, clearly surprised. “Are you talking about the same Usopp we know?” I said.

“That’s right,” Cabbage affirmed with a nod. “I won’t forget his valiant deed. He spared the lives of hundreds… or so it’s been rumored.”

Luffy scratched his head and smiled, “Well, thanks! It’s nice to hear you compliment my crew!”

“Oh, also Trafalgar,” Cabbage said, pulling out Law’s hat. “I happened upon it outside of the Colosseum. I’m sure you’ve been longing for it... lend me your head for a second!” Cabbage’s eyes were menacing as he eyed Law.

“Get away from me! I don’t trust you!” Law retorted, trying to move away.

“I’ll take that!” I said, stepping forward and yanking the hat from Cabbage’s hand. I made my way to Law and gently placed the hat on his head. “There we go, much better,” I said with a warm smile.

Law’s cheeks flushed as he looked at me, clearly touched by the gesture. “Thanks, Princess,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on me.

As I turned to face Cabbage, he continued, “As for you, Princess…” I rolled my eyes at the title. “Yes… Cabbage?” I said, unamused.

“You are just as lovely as everyone makes you out to be,” Cabbage said, stepping closer, causing me to instinctively take a step back.

He pulled out a rose from his coat and extended it towards me. “Why don’t you and I become an item? Just think of the press coverage—everyone would be talking about us, and the glory would come back to me.”

I took a step back, feeling a bit flustered. “Cabbage, is this really the time for this?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation polite while maintaining my distance.

Cabbage’s eyes sparkled with a hint of ambition. “Imagine the headlines: ‘Princess Y/N and Cavendish—the perfect match!’ All the fame and glory would be mine again.”

Before Cabbage could continue, Zoro stepped forward, his expression darkening. “Like hell it wont!,” he said, pulling me into his embrace once more. “You’re not touching her, not after what you just tried to do.”

“Listen, Cabbage, now’s not the time for declarations like that,” I said, trying to stay close to Zoro to keep Cabbage at bay. The tension between us was thick, and it was clear that Zoro wasn’t about to let Cabbage get any closer.

Law, still restrained by his sea prism stone handcuffs, glared at Zoro. “Roronoa, quit gripping Y/N like that!” he said, his voice tinged with frustration and jealousy.

Zoro tightened his hold on me slightly, his eyes never leaving Cabbage. “And why should I? After everything that’s happened, I’m not letting anyone near her.”

Cabbage’s eyes flickered with a mix of irritation and calculating interest. “How very protective of you,” he said with a smirk. “I’m sure the press would have a field day if they saw you like this.”

I could see the frustration on Cabbage’s face as he envisioned the fame and glory he could regain. “You see,” Cabbage said, “if you and I were seen together, the headlines would be all about how I’ve won the heart of the famous Princess Y/N. The spotlight would be back on me where it belongs.”

Zoro’s jaw tightened as he pulled me even closer, his voice low and dangerous. “Like hell it will!. She’s not some trophy for you to flaunt.”

Just as I was about to respond, Cabbage cut in with a smirk.

“Very well,” Cabbage said, “I have a busy schedule to uphold. My offer still stands, Princess.” He then shifted his attention to Luffy, who was watching the exchange with his usual casual demeanor.

“Aren’t you going to inquire why I’m so busy?” Cabbage teased, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“I’m good,” Luffy replied nonchalantly.

“Very well,” Cabbage said with a flourish, “I shall tell you all! I have decided to repay your debt by getting the head of Doflamingo.”

“What the hell!” Luffy exclaimed, his eyes widening. “No thanks, I already said this was my way of repaying Rebecca for the lunches she bought.”

“Seriously? You’re going head-to-head with a warlord over some food?” Law interjected, his voice a mix of disbelief and frustration.

I slapped my forehead, watching as Luffy and Cabbage began to argue over who would get Doflamingo first. Cabbage went on about how killing Doflamingo would bring him fame and riches.

“He’s got a loose screw, I see,” I muttered to Zoro.

“Alright! Time to go!” Luffy declared, grabbing Law and lifting him with ease. “Let’s move, guys.”

With that, Zoro and I joined Luffy, heading away from the scene. We left Cabbage to his fantasies and delusions, focusing on the more immediate task at hand.

[joeybsversion]

Cautious

Joe Burrow x Reader

Reader struggles with her mental health and Joe helps her

Another home game Bengal win should be something to celebrate, but after the game you were feeling down. You headed out of the stadium and climbed into the car, trying to make your way through the post game traffic. You were stopped in a line of what seemed like hundreds of cars all trying to make their way out of the same parking lot and sent off a quick text to your boyfriend, Joe.

“Good game, Joey! See you at home.”

You scrolled through Instagram and saw all of the other girlfriends and wives posts before traffic started to move again. You put your phone down and made your way onto the highway.

While you were driving, without warning or reason, you burst into tears. That’s when you realized, you were struggling a lot more than people think. You made your way home, went upstairs, changed out of your game day outfit and climbed into bed. You should be up, making dinner or taking care of things around the house before Joe got home. But instead, you were back on Instagram, mindlessly scrolling through posts and comments.

“Hey baby girl.” Joe interrupted your scrolling, causing you to jump.

“Hi Joe, good game!” You smiled.

“Thank you. I’m glad we pulled it off.” He smiled. “Do you wanna go downstairs and we can have some dinner?” He asked, changing out of his outfit and into some sweats.

“Sure.” You smiled weakly, “I’m sorry. I should have already started it when I got home.” You paused “but I just needed a little break.”

“That’s ok. I’ll help you.” He pulled you from the bed and wrapped you into a big hug.

You followed Joe downstairs into the kitchen and rummaged through the cabinets with him, picking over the groceries before deciding on what to make.

“Smells so good.” Joe said as he watched you finish dishing up dinner.

You took a seat next to him at the table. You weren’t really that hungry tonight. You pushed the food from side to side on your plate.

“What’s wrong baby?” Joe asked. “You’ve barley touched your food. This pasta is your favorite.” He looked concerned.

“Just not too hungry.” You answered him, setting your fork down and forcing a reassuring smile.

Joe finished eating, took his place, and quickly rinsed the dishes before sitting down next to you again.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?” His voice was stern.

“I told you…” you paused, knowing you weren’t going to be able to avoid his questions “I’m not very hungry right now.” You finished.

“I can tell you’ve been crying.” He said grabbing your hand, causing another tear to slip down your cheek.

You kept your head down, hoping he wouldn’t see. You grabbed your plate and set it on the counter and made your way back upstairs and crawled into bed, Joe following closely behind.

“What’s wrong, baby girl?” He asked again as he climbed into bed next to you, resting his face in his hands.

“I’ve just been getting so much hate lately.” You answered after a few minutes of silence.

“From who?” You could see the rage in his eyes. “Answer me!” He said.

“Online Joey.” You started crying. “On Instagram,” you continued before trying to catch your breath between sobs “and I think it’s really starting to affect my relationship with the other girls.”

You had briefly mentioned a few weeks ago you were getting a lot of hate online. People were commenting on your looks and your relationship with Joe. Not a day had gone by where people weren’t reminding you that he was too good for you.

“I told you not to read those comments.” He said, wiping a tear from your eye.

“I know, it’s hard not to though. They’re everywhere.” You pulled out your phone and went to your latest Instagram post, a picture of you and Joe on the field before the game today. “See?” You pulled up the comment section and handed your phone over to him.

“This is disgusting.” He said, getting angry and locked your phone before putting it down. “What’s going on with the girls, I thought you were excited to hang with them during the game?” He said referencing his teammates wives and girlfriends.

“I was.” You sniffled. “But they barley acknowledged me, Joe,” you continued, “I wasn’t asked to be in a single photo today. And yeah that shit hurts because their group photos and pictures of them laughing are all over social media now.” You cried harder now.

“Baby,” Joe paused, “there’s more to life than selfies at a football game.”

“I know, Joe.” You interrupted. “But those girls are supposed to be my friends.” You cried. “I get so much hate they’re scared to be involved with me. They don’t want people to start hating them.”

You rolled over and buried your face in the pillow, crying harder now than before. You both sat in silence for a few minutes. Joe knew you had been getting some hate, but he didn’t realize how serious it had gotten and how much it had been affecting you.

He rolled you over cautiously to face him, adjusting his grip around your waist as if he might break you. Your eyes drifted towards his. “I want you to know something.” He said.

“Hmm?” You asked, feeling his fingers gently trace your hip bones.

“I want you to be happy. I want your life to be as beautiful as you.” A tear rolled down his cheek. “Sometimes a bad day turns into a bad week, which can turn into a bad month, and eventually into just a bad time.” He sighed. “And you struggle. And you feel like you’ve been thrown into a battle you didn’t ask for.” He wiped a tear from his own eye. “But you are here. You have to keep fighting and blindly trust that things will turn out okay.” He finished. “I want to help you. I’m going to turn things around. I’m going to take better care of you. I promise.”

“I’m tough.” You whispered between tears.

“I know.” He nods.

“I can take care of myself.”

“You have.” He said. “You still do. You always will. I’m just joining in too. Now we take care of each other.” He wrapped you into the biggest hug. “I love you.”

“I love you too, thank you.” You curled up into him. You knew everything would be ok with Joe by your side.

[spicyclover]

Live Stream

Summary: You and Lando have been a thing for quite some time. After being friends for a year, you finally dared to ask Lando for an actual date. And that’s where everything starts. Rumours were heard but no confirmation, so they killed themselves until one LIVE with this idiot Charles. 

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!

Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

Lando was an live. Talking loudly, cracking a laugh sometimes and most of the time raging at the game and his friends. You were in the bedroom next door, and he was annoying. This has been going on for at least two hours, and you have had enough. 

You wear shorts and one of his hoodies and head outside. Go, it was much quieter here. You take his car to the nearest drive-through and order some food for you to eat while walking the streets. 

Meanwhile, Lando was still gaming with Charles, George and Alex. All three of them trying to ruin Charles's games, as always. Making fun of Alex's noise and George's unknowable of the actual gaming world. 

Oh right! They are playing the Goat simulator. 

“FUCK off, screamed Charles for a hundred times as his game crashed once more.” 

“Oh, come on, Charles, buy yourself a real computer because you are ruining our game.” 

“Shut up, Lando!” 

“No, for real, it’s like the fifth time you made me crash because you couldn’t drive, and now because...

“Fuck off, go back to fuck Y/n and let me play.”

After this sentence, Charles went silent. Looking at his camera where his streamers were going wild after he had just said. Nobody dared to talk, and this only made things worst. Them being silent, with eyes and mouths open. 

If Lando could disappear under a rock right now, he’ll do it. Far far away from this computer and this life. It’s finally George who ends the awkward silence.

“Well, I gotta go, guys. See ya!”

Alex follows shortly after with a lame excuse for doing the laundry. Lando finally comes out of his trans and ends his life and game without a word, just closing everything. “Well, Y/n going to kill me, that’s for sure.”

Charles was the last one an live. Need help figuring out what to do. He just stays there looking at his black screen. He looks at the camera and makes an awkward sound before saying goodbye to everyone. Taking his head in his hands, he tries to find a logical escape from the bombshell he just dropped on you and Lando. 

He grabs his phone and dials the number of Lando. He tries several times but always ends up in the voicemail. “That’s bad, and that’s really bad... I’ve fucked up.”

You are utterly oblivious to the bombshell that just dropped on your head. While eating your Mcdonald's at sea, your phone starts blowing up.

Your Instagram, Twitter and even WhatsApp his on fire. You finally saw the name of Lando calling you, and you answered. 

“Hi, baby! What’s going on? My phone blowing up. What did you do?”

The other line stays silent for a while, thinking about what he might say to you. 

“Lando! Answer me!”

“Baby... we need to talk.”

“What happens?” 

“I can’t tell you on the phone. Come home, please.” 

“Okay, sure. But I am apprehensive now.” 

You go back to Lando’s house. Once you arrive, you see him waiting for you at the front door, looking shocked and scared simultaneously. 

You step out of the car, and he quickly takes your arm to make you enter, looking at both sides like a madman. 

“Okay, you’re starting to scare me.”

“Babe, sit down, please.” He said while taking your hands to the couch. “Charles may have exposed us.”

“What do you mean, might?”

“Well, we were on live playing and at some point, Charles’s game crashed and I...”

“Go to the point!” 

“Well, he might tell me to fuck off and fuck you.”

“Okay?”

“And I panicked, and I froze. Making everything worse...” 

You stay silent for a while, looking at him. 

“So... we’re out?”

“Yeah... I’m sorry. So sorry. I didn’t want it to happen, but...”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish his sentence and kissed him. You kiss him with passion. You’ve been waiting so long for him to make your relationship public you can’t find the words. You’re happy, very happy, because you won’t have to hide when you accompany him to races. You won’t have to see all those girls flirting with him thinking he’s single.

“You’re not mad?” He asks, confused.

“No. I actually would kiss Charles if he was here!” You said, pushing him into the couch to kiss him again. 

“I’m so confused...”He said taking off your top.“Yet, I certainly don’t mind.”

[steddieficfind]

I was wondering if Andrew and Natalee have any fic rec lists? tysm

While I wanted to stick to strictly fic finding on this blog, it seems like people are interested in what we're reading! So we're gonna do a little mini rec list and maybe some more in the future! You can also check out the #rec event tag for more!

Andrew

You Don't Know This Guy by Anonymous - I'm a sucker for future fics with Tommy Hagan and Steve Harrington meeting again. I also love outside POV fics. This one is under appreciated for SURE.

Tell Yourself You Still Live Here by shanparkervarietyhour - angsty future fic where Steddie finally gets together in the 90s.

Apple Tarts and Tattoo Hearts by trekkiepirate - Another really creative and under appreciated outsider POV!

in lieu of flowers by dannytorrance - ow. I love it so much but OW!!! fics delving into Steve's family always get me man.

i thought good guys get to be happy by DrewWrites - okay this one is mine. This is a shameless plug, but it's probably one of the best things I've written.

natalee

i’ve been working on a big reclist that i hope to post on my personal account soon so i’ll let y’all know when that happens :) for now here’s a few of my favorites!

Pity the Freak by emmy_award — this is my all-time favorite steddie fic and i don’t see anything topping it anytime soon so it probably will be forever. i’m always so surprised i never see anyone else talking about it! i came out of this one Changed. i maxed out the text field with my comment which i didn’t think was realistically even possible. this is a must-read and if me saying this convinces even just one person to read this fic then i’ve won

kissing the beehive by slowmoon — one of my best friends, tiff, wrote this in the summer and fall of 2022. they’re one of the most talented writers i know — it was a huge privilege to work on this with them and i had a really fun time editing it. if you like vampire!eddie this one is right up your alley :-)

keep with me forward by shortcrust — this has been a favorite for a long time — it’s simple and sweet and incredibly well-written. a few of the lines were so moving that i still think about them regularly. beautiful!

Calamity’s Child by glorious_spoon — something i value probably more than anything else in a fic is good jokes and this one’s chock full of ‘em. this is like tears in your eyes level funny. i think about “okay, nancy reagan” basically every single day. i too am a massive fan of outsider POVs and this one captures dustin’s voice perfectly

Three Days on the Red Planet by CaptainHoney — as a lover of the sci-fi genre i’ll read any sci-fi au you throw at me. in this case i am throwing this one at y’all. the concept and the setting for this fic are super interesting and well-executed and i could have read hundreds of thousands of words of this. delicious

He Knows Only Two Stories by teddywesworl — you know those fics where eddie is just like…slightly off? like there’s something weird about him. (think Looks like we’re in for nasty weather by prufrocks or Heal Your Shrinking Soul by how_about_no, or maybe even The Train Fic by novemberthorne) this is one of those and it’s soooo good. i only recently realized i’m very much drawn to There’s Something Wrong With Eddie as a genre but this is the best of ‘em, i’d say. and obviously you can never go wrong with farmer!steve. i’ve never read a fic i didn’t love from this author and this one is no exception!

let us know if you’d like to see more of this sort of thing from us in the future, and happy reading!

[rainbowolfe]

All About the Fanatic

I’ve been mulling this over since Sins of the Flesh dropped, but now I finally have the time to make a formal post about it. It’s about the identity of the Fanatic.

First things first, who is the Fanatic? Like as a person (beast).

The Fanatic was deemed worthy of a Crown by Chemach after surviving some sort of conflict. They are someone who is incredibly devoted to the First Gods/Great Ones even after ascension. And before receiving their own Crown, they too were just a Follower worshipping a Crown Bearer for protection. Timeline-wise, this probably places the start of Fanatic’s story shortly after the Great Ones leave this realm/world (though haven’t completely abandoned it yet. Maybe).

Right off the bat, we get confirmation that Crowns are living things. “I will nourish this Crown and be worthy of this power.” Crowns are something that have to be fed, and in exchange, the wearer gets to use its powers.

Fanatic has deemed themselves judge, jury, and executioner in the name of the Great Ones. If their weapon-set didn’t come with the Crown, then I believe that’s what they’re asking for in the second tablet. (“I seek your understanding.”) Though they’re being vague about what it is they want, they’re asking for something. And they’re offering further dedication/sacrifice in exchange.

Alternatively, they feel they’ve done something wrong and are asking for forgiveness. Either way, their weapons allow them to (effectively) convert Fervour into Devotion. They have a direct incentive to kill as much as possible. They technically don’t need Followers to feed their Crown either, putting them in a very unique position.

While they seem to start in Silk Cradle (they make mention of seeing the weapons used by the Great Ones), when they grow older they go on a pilgrimage that lands them in Spore Grotto. This may be a point in the “did something wrong and now they feel guilty” category, cause no one goes on a pilgrimage just because. The Mushroomos are present but don’t reveal themselves. Maybe they just haven’t evolved to the point of mobility at this time, but they can speak (to each other). And they can see.

Fanatic comments on how the air smells sweet, which could be a few different things, but it all relates back to either illness or decay. It could be the scent of the menticide mushrooms/Mushroomos. It could be the bacteria thriving in the dead carcass of a god. Or it could be a sign of what killed the God in the first place. Certain illnesses make the body give off a sweet smell in death, such as cancer, sepsis, or diabetes.

Loosely off-topic, but I believe this dead carcass of a Great One is why the rest of them ditched this realm. It’s one thing for First Gods to kill First Gods. It’s another for a Beast, an Idol, or even some random monster to do so.

“Hatched beneath the First, they crave no power, seek no other fulfillment, for it is not in their nature. And it is by nature that we must abide.”

The Fanatic values nature above all. It is the thing they’re most concerned with when they see the state of Chemach a hundred years later. Whatever cult they were originally apart of most likely worshipped a nature-oriented idol (which is one of the Aesthetics we can take on in SotF). For as much as they praise the Great Ones and seek their favor, they don’t actually value them. Not more than themselves. (as we see later)

As Fanatic passes the triple digits in age, they’re more inclined to keep a better record of the world around them. It seems that, post whatever happened to Chemach, Crowns are distributed randomly at any time. Some are hidden away to be found, others are taken by force. With no real “benefactor” save for the Crown itself, many probably just. Died from their own incompetence. And some other Beast was there to scoop up their Crown.

“Rise and fall like tides cut free from the moon” loosely implies (to me) that either a major Ocean deity or Moon deity has died. It’s weird wording you wouldn’t ever use unless something has happened to your moon. The tides are explicitly controlled by the moon. So if they’re cut free from it…

Fanatic is approached by what’s presumed to be a war god. And it most likely is. But technically, it could be any of the surviving five, as they’re all apart of this purge. The new faith that calls themselves the Old Faith. Fanatic isn’t interested in turning on their peers or worshipping… whatever it is the Old Faith worships.

It is very funny that Fanatic is on a first name basis with exactly one god. Hundreds of them. Hundreds. They name one. And it’s interesting that their domain is tied to “change”, much like Shamura claims Knowledge is.

Yngya is a made up name, as far as I can tell, so it’s not obvious what their domain was. What we do know is that they were responsible for changing the color of the leaves. So, some sort of season-based god, if not specifically Fall.

I suspect they’re a Death God. The Blood Moon Ritual is associated with the changing of seasons, and with it souls are allowed to pass on peacefully. If their domain specifically has to do with Fall, they’re most likely a Harvest God and those are often Death Gods.

I do wonder what it is Haro did that allowed her to keep her life and her Crown. There’s something off about her Crown, sure, but she still has it. She’s still powerful/capable based on the bodies you can find in her room. And she’s in a close enough range of the Bishops to have a pretty good idea of what happened between them.

The Fanatic may not recognize it, but there is/was some sort of relationship between them and the war god. Some sort of history. Maybe it’s a Mr. Incredible-Buddy thing. Where the Fanatic was the war god’s idol, but the war god was nothing to Fanatic. Regardless of the details. Every other God (save for Haro) was completely wiped from the record. They weren’t just killed. Their Crown, their Domain, and their Shrines are gone.

And though Fanatic is forced to revoke their Crown, they’re spared. (“How easily pain made a defector of me.”) I don’t believe it’s possible that none of the other hundreds of Gods were unwilling to defect in exchange for their lives. I think it’s that Fanatic was the only one given that choice.

From the beginning, the War God sought out Fanatic to give them a chance to join their new cause/religion. They were turned away… but came back near the end of the purge. Not to kill Fanatic, but to torture them into submission. “No” was never an option. The game implies that re-education is a painful process. If you reeducate someone at night, Followers will wonder about the screams they heard in their sleep.

*insert segue here*

Sozo was worshipped by Mushroomos, but also held deeply rooted contempt for them that manifested through cannibalism. I spent a bit of time stalking Sozo in my playthrough, and I noticed that he hates Mushroomo. Rightfully so, considering what happened to him. Under the influence of the menticide mushrooms, his true feelings bubble to the surface. But that’s not the important part for this. The point is, when we complete the requirements of Sozo’s quest, it’s not an ant follower form we’re granted. It’s a Mushroomo.

Therefore, I don’t think the serpent skin we get represents the form the Fanatic took. It represents the being the Fanatic has unfinished business with. Business we somehow resolve by learning/seeking “the truth”. Which is what the Ancient Tablets represent. The tab you read the Ancient Tablets (and the extra notes) in is explicitly called “Knowledge”.

 Shamura is the only character we’ve encountered that has two domains. Knowledge and War. Something more had to have happened behind the scenes for them to acquire their second domain. The Bishops killed hundreds of gods, but the Bishops didn’t acquire those domains. They were lost. When Yngya is killed, the Bishops don’t inherit the ability to change the seasons, it just doesn’t happen anymore.

So the question is, was Shamura the God of War first? Or the God of Knowledge? Based on how everyone in the game speaks about them, I’m inclined to believe it was Knowledge.

What Shamura is praised for most is their mind. Narinder reminisces about the strength of their mind and how they were once the wisest out of all of them. What’s taken from them is their intelligence—the information they’ve acquired over the years. (“I may no longer be wise, but I am no fool”). Their followers give offerings to them to ask for knowledge and guidance. And it’s also the domain they tell Lamb about first.

In fact, if Lamb doesn’t challenge them and instead bows when they request it, Shamura doesn’t share that they’re also a God of War.

Even the status effect they’re afflicted with (Dissenting) is more related to Knowledge than it is War. When Dissenter’s dissent, there’s the chance you get dialogue from them. And in that dialogue, they speak of knowing the truth. The truth and knowledge are inherently connected in this world. Dissenter’s don’t encourage violence or fighting, but a mass exodus. Dissenters steal, but they don’t destroy anything.

The Fanatic admits to relinquishing their blessing, aka their Crown. BUT, we see with Narinder/TOWW that giving up your Crown doesn’t mean giving up your godhood or the abilities that came with it. He was still the God of Death (and had complete control over that domain) until Lamb defeated him. Even after his defeat, he’s still immortal (unless you have Mystic Seller put him through the godly washing machine).

Therefore, even after giving up their crown so they would be spared, they would still be the God of Knowledge. Just without a cult or any real power to wield.

“Five becomes… becomes… Nothing. Nothing at all.”

Even pre sins of the flesh, I thought it was an interesting detail that Shamura doesn’t include themselves in their countdown. When you go to fight Shamura, they consider themselves not as ‘one’ but as ‘nothing’.

Then, there’s their final line before you fight them. Lifted straight from the Fanatic’s chronicles. These ancient tablets aren’t, like. Laying around, free for anyone to read. Lamb gets to see them because they’re the chosen one. And they have to sacrifice a full heart to have it (a pound of flesh, in Fox’s terms).

And if Shamura was the one who subjugated/killed the Fanatic, I don’t think they’d be allowed access to these tablets by the higher power guarding them. If they are the one who purged all the other gods to hide the fact that they started a new, fake religion, then they’re not exactly someone who “values truth over all else”. They have to be the one who came up with this little rhyme.

“He of havoc, he of blight; she of hunger, they of might.”

It would be weird for anyone to refer to themselves in the third person, but people gave Shamura a pass because their brain isn’t completely contained within their skull. But I have to wonder if Shamura actually is that kind of crazy. They struggle with memory and the wide-eyed stare makes them look incredibly lost at any given moment. And it seems like they have trouble tending to the needs of their followers as a cult leader. But they aren’t insane. When they’re speaking to Lamb, they seem very aware, actually.

Shamura’s issue seems to be that they spend so much time trying to remember the past, that they’re not reliably “present”. They’re effectively day-dreaming, even when they don’t mean to. Off in their own head. But they’re not like Chemach. They aren’t giggling at inside jokes they share only with themself, or talking to inanimate objects. They just aren’t as smart as they once were, because they can’t retain information.

Even when left without their Crown, it’s still just memory they struggle with—just more so than before. They still don’t speak in third person. They speak in rhymes to help them remember distant things (which they did with their Crown too). Which like. That is a thing. Mnemonic devices are known to be useful for boosting memory for everyone, not just people who struggle with memory loss.

I posit: Shamura was never speaking in the third person. There were five siblings. Five Gods. Five bringers of the end. And Shamura was a sixth, an outsider looking in. Shamed and conquered, and indoctrinated into this group unwillingly.

We see in-game, that there’s something about indoctrinating someone that makes them incredibly… complicit? Passive? Narinder explicitly did not want to join Lamb’s cult, but if you spare and indoctrinate him, he doesn’t leave. (Excluding various game mechanics that apply to all followers) He’s very critical of Lamb and the cult, but even that fades into a begrudging acceptance. He never expresses that he wants to leave. Same with all the Bishops.

The brief memory Shamura has when you give them Spider Silk would reinforce the idea that they weren’t exactly a willing participant in the Old Faith.

“In my silk, I snared a Crown… to their faith, irrevocably bound…”

The Crown given to the Fanatic by Chemach was clearly very revocable. There were no strings attached to their faith in the Great Ones. In fact, their devotion was given by choice. They offered it up. There’s also this decoration:

Of a Red Crown trapped in a web. This seems pretty connected to the memory they’re reciting.

Shamura, still a God of Knowledge just without Crown, would eventually kill and usurp the then-God of War. Granting them two domains. One granted to them by the Great Ones, the other granted to them by another force. Again, whatever force the Old Faith serves. Turua, I suspect.

All with the help of Narinder, the one they love the most.

“Bond forged by the spilling of blood… I know you hear me, God of Death.”

Whatever brought these two together was the death of another. They killed someone. And there are not a lot of options for beings that would require two gods (well, a god and a half) to take them out. Thus it would be really fitting if who they killed was the God of War that made Shamura revoke their Crown in the first place.

In that scenario, of course Shamura would love Narinder the most. They would not only appreciate the gesture and favor him over the others, but they would feel indebted to him. They would do anything for him, as he did for them.

Which includes doing whatever the hell it was that got their brain squashed and Narinder imprisoned, despite their best judgment.

[abbyshands]

Hi kit, do you know how to tell if a person sending asks saying they need donations for their family in gaza, is fake?

Cuz someone sent me an ask and I’ve reblogged it but I was going through the comments and there a several blocked and one of them says that the op is scamming people.

I know there are ppl like this that are that horrible, but I wonder if you know how tell them apart ? Or if anyone knows for that matter. Cuz I don’t want to mislead people and give them the wrong information or anything.

hi, honey! this is gonna be all over the place but. i've had this very thing happen to me before as well, maybe three or so asks just like the one you received. i did fall for the first one, but once you see them over and over again, i think it can get easier to tell when it's a scam. one thing to note is when the actual account began to post. i notice a lot of these accounts began to post in recent days or weeks. at the time that i donated to the first person who sent me an ask like this, it was february, and they began to post around mid january. the next tell is one i see a lot, where they'll reblog a bunch of things about palestine, but they will all be in a matter of hours, days, etc. usually never weeks (and also, you'll see that they randomly begin to reblog in very recent days. ex. all their reblogs are from three days ago and onward). one more thing: look at their posts (not their reblogs. their actual posts), and check if it says "some replies may have been blocked, deleted, removed, etc). absolutely, 100% not a good sign. chances are, replies are being removed by the op because they're getting called out for scamming.

the structure of the actual ask is also a dead giveaway. if it ends in "my goal is x amount of money," usually somewhere in the hundreds or thousands, not a good sign. if they are asking you to respond to their ask PRIVATELY, not a good sign. if you copy part of their ask and paste it into tumblr or do an internet search, and you see it elsewhere, not a good sign! these blogs will go around copying the same message into people's inboxes. chances are, someone else on tumblr has posted about the very person who sent you the ask, OR, you will find it somewhere else on the internet, etc a gofundme (which, by the way, is where most of these scammers obtain their story or pictures. they'll find it in gofundmes as i said, articles, etc). before you engage, copy the username of the person who sent you the ask, and paste it into the tumblr search bar. this is how i found out that the first person who sent an ask like this to me was a scammer.

this post here (which i absolutely implore you to read, as it captures what i want to say here much better than i'm doing so right now) explains why there is an abundance of people on tumblr sending asks like this in people's inboxes. for one thing, they target popular tags (ex. literally, the "palestine" or "gaza" tags, or any tag that may be trending at the time), or, they go for blogs who are consistently reblogging and/or uploading content related to the genocide. why? because they're taking advantage of the fact that you want to make a change in regards to what's going on. and if that's the case, what would stop you from donating to someone "in need," right?

if you want my honest opinion, if someone is sending you an ask about this on tumblr at all, it's likely not real. to put it into perspective: people who are really in gaza and want to escape, raise money, etc, will go to big network places such as gofundme, because there are better chances of them raising actual money in general, but in a short period of time. as opposed to asking people individually, their cause will be more widespread, and more people will see it. not only that: places like gofundme are pros at figuring out what's a scam and what's not. op in the above post noted this, and how places like gofundme will remove causes that are clearly scams. that's why scammers avoid places like this at all, and go to places like tumblr, where it isn't so easy for the actual site to remove their post. it's only when people on the app pick up on it, that scammers' facades fall. does that make sense?

i feel like this sort of jumped around, but i hope i was able to clarify what you were asking anyway. if someone feels the need to add onto this, please do, and if i need to clarify any point i made, etc, please let me know! ♡

[phoenixyfriend]

Another Guideline for Tumblr Usage

Hi! I've seen a bunch of posts going around recently with tumblr etiquette rules, but a certain account's recent activity (receiving 20-30 Recent Meme asks per hour after asking people to stop) has led me to realize that a certain element has been missing.

Specifically, ask and tagging etiquette when it comes to famous/popular blogs.

Step 1: You see something cool. Really cool. 'Sweeping tumblr, has tens of thousands of notes' cool. You want to show it to someone. Your immediate circle is not enough. Your groupchat is not enough. You want to show it to One Of Those Blogs, the ones with follower counts in five or six figures.

Step 2: You go to their blog, to double-check their username. You open the ask box. You--

Stop. Close it. You need to do something else first.

Step 3: Go to the search bar. Do a search for a keyword relating to the thing you want to share. If nothing comes up, try doing it as a tag (replace '/search/key word' with '/tagged/key-word' in the url).

Step 4: Nothing came up? Great. Proceed to send the ask. Try to be polite. Do not act entitled to their time.

Alternate Step 4: Actually, you didn't want to send an ask. You wanted to tag them in the post. There aren't any asks about it yet, so it's fine, right?

Go to the post notes. Check the replies. Check the reblogs with the filter set to "comments only." Make sure nobody else has tagged this person yet. If they have, and it's not an old version of the post (e.g. the thing you want the famous blogger to see is a reply that was added in the last two days, and they were tagged on the original version a few months ago), go ahead and tag them.

Why is this important?

Think of it this way: imagine if you got so many text messages about the same three-word joke from strangers that you could no longer see if your friends (they're chill, you love them) or your mom (she's important) were messaging you. Your friend wrote you a sonnet! They put a lot of time into it!! And you didn't see because three hundred people you've never met were texting you a single pogchamp image. The exact same one, every time, no edits, or only edits that were the same joke as fifty other people's edits.

Imagine how annoying that would be.

Now, the next time you try to let someone know about something they are very likely to have seen already, please do them and yourselves a favor and just... check to see that you are not the fiftieth person to do so in the last day.

[brighter-by-the-daly]

Millie Bright x Reader

Part One: Playing Pretend

Posted 23/04/23, Edited 29/06/23

Prompt: Everyone thinks she’s dating Levi, but she’s actually dating R” - @xxforeverinadayxx

Laying on the sofa in the home you own together your phone flashed up that your girlfriend Millie had posted a photo on Insta. You opened up the app excited to see her face but was hit with deep disappointment instead - yet another photo of your girlfriend with her pretend boyfriend Levi. You were getting sick with keeping your relationship a secret, you only agreed to do it while the relationship was new and didn’t know if it was going to work but it’s been 6 years - you own a house together, you have 3 dogs together! Yet nobody but your families and Rachel knew that you were a couple. You both post photos of each other but everyone assumes you’re best friends who live together. The way your heart skips a beat when you see that she’s posted a photo of you together is cute but seeing the hundreds of comments wishing for a friendship like yours stomps your heart flutters away in an instant. Many times this has been bought up in conversation but Millie always brushes it under the carpet - “it’s better this way” and “I don’t want to ruin it” ring through your mind. She thinks people finding out will destroy what you have; with everyone’s opinions and comments and weird TikTok edits, there’ll be so much pressure.

At training the next day Erin, Guro and Sam were huddled around Millie asking about Levi, Sam suggested a double date which Millie agreed to while you were in ear shot making you red with rage. Taking your anger out on the treadmill your footsteps got heavier as the speed got faster until you couldn’t take the conversation anymore, slamming your hand onto the stop button and storming out the room. “What’s wrong with (y/l/n)?” Guro asked Millie, believing the best friends lie and thinking she’ll know. Millie shrugged but made no attempt to come after you and you didn’t see each other again until she finally came home that night.

Washing up in the kitchen your back was facing towards the front door when she entered. You didn’t even want to look at her, you hate confrontation but knew that this needed to be addressed. “Hey, what was wrong with you today?” she said swanning into the kitchen without a care in the world. Taking your time deciding how to respond to her took longer than expected as she became impatient “hellooo, you blanking me now?” she laughed genuinely believing that the reason you were angry couldn’t possibly be anything serious. “That would be ironic wouldn’t it!” you snapped, Millie looked stunned at your sudden aggressive tone. “I’m fed up with being a secret Mills! The Levi thing wasn’t meant to be permanent, it was just meant to be a few months until we knew what we wanted, it’s been 6 years! I want to be the one you post about and talk about to your friends and our team mates! You still get to act like you’re in a relationship and I’ve had to pretend to be single all this time, finding shitty excuses why I can’t go on dates while you’re out here with a whole make believe boyfriend!”

Millie’s reactions of a half eye roll like she caught herself midway through and stopped told you everything you needed to know about how this conversation was going to go. “I thought we talked about this?” she said trying to take you in for a hug but you shrugged away from her. “No, you talked about this. I just had to accept whatever you decided!” taking your frustrations out on the washing up as she stood the other side of the kitchen island. “But what if we ever break up?” scoffing at her comment as your anger started to boil over “that’s what you think of me is it?” slamming the last plate so hard onto the draining board it smashed. “We’ve been together six years, we own a house, I want to marry you! And the first thought in your head is what if we break up? That shows exactly what you think of me Millie. What’s the point in going public when you’re always thinking about what’s going to happen, not if but when we break up? You’re unbelievable.” Storming past her and upstairs you started shoving clothes and necessities into a suitcase. Millie watched you emotionless and just stood idly by as you packed your life into a bag and headed for the door. “But (y/n/n)” Millie said grabbing your arm. “No, you don’t watch me pack my shit up and start with ‘but’, you’re still trying to fight your side of this. You’re literally watching me walk out this door and you still think you’re right in all this?!” You watched with raised eyebrows as you waited for a response but seeing Millie’s mouth open and close with no words coming out was the last straw. Grabbing your keys and stroking the dogs you headed to the car, looking back at someone you don’t even recognise anymore standing in the door frame. She continued to stand there as you pulled away and out of sight, your mind on auto pilot drove you to Rachel’s house. That’s when your heart broke completely, she didn’t even fight for you.

Part Two

[something-tofightfor]

Aphelion - 10

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand

*Please be sure to consider all chapter warnings before reading! Warnings will be updated for each chapter in individual posts as well as on the Masterlist.

Warnings: language, weapons, mentions of unethical medical practices, vampirism, the Lannisters are assholes. 

Word Count: 14,962

Summary: Tyrion Lannister is offering help, but why?  If he can, in fact give you and your friends a much needed advantage, are you going to be able to make the most of it? 

The more you see of Oberyn and his family in action, the more you believe that the answer is yes. 

A/N: Sorry about the delay, friends! A literal year later, and we’re back with a supersized chapter both in terms of word count and content. 

@the-blind-assassin-12​ and I apologize for the delay with this chapter, but we’re back on track now - and already working on the next part. Thank you for sticking around and for reading and sending in asks and comments about this group; we both love them very, very much. 

Also, if you have questions about details or plot points or the way that Westerosi history/world fits into the “real” world- please ask! We don’t want to confuse anyone.

Catch up with the Aphelion masterlist here!

(banner by @valkblue )

“Tyrion Lannister, at your service.” 

Mouth agape in shock, you hurried to shut it as the man before you rose from his low bow. Seven hells and holy shit. That’s…  Wide-eyed and stunned despite what Oberyn had told you about the Lannisters and their ability to cheat mortality, you stared at the man whose portrait you walked past every morning on your way into the office at Golden Lion. 

But that was painted hundreds of years ago. He looks… You blinked, an unnatural chill moving down your spine at your next thought. No. He doesn’t just look the same. 

The roguish curls. The color of his eyes. The scar that sliced diagonally across his face. It was as though the man had hopped down from the ornate frame that hung outside the ninth floor conference room and was now standing in front of you.

He is the same. The exact same. 

Before you could ask anyone to explain how it was possible though, Tyrion was speaking again. “Prince Oberyn Martell, Ellaria Sand, Toban Dayne.” He nodded in greeting at each of them. “It is a pleasure to see you all again. You look well. I can’t believe it’s been an age.” He used one hand to gesture towards the woman standing next to him as he went on. “And of course now I’ve met Tyene. But -” He cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing as they flicked from where Oberyn’s hand was linked with yours and up to your face before giving you a polite smile. “I’ve not yet had the privilege of making your acquaintance.”

That’s for sure. “I’m… My name is -” You cleared your throat and introduced yourself to the man. “I’m just -”

“She is with me, Lord Tyrion.” Oberyn’s grip tightened as he squeezed your hand, his tone not quite threatening but definitely serious. When you glanced up at him you saw the same was true about the look in his eyes, their dark depths glinting like the edge of a sharpened blade. Oh.  “And she is under my protection.” 

“Oberyn.” Ellaria’s voice came from just behind where the two of you were standing, one hand rising to his shoulder in a move of gentle de-escalation. Tilting his chin down just enough, you saw him watch as her fingers dug into his bicep with light pressure.  “Do not forget that Tyene asked him to come here. He is a guest.” Her grip loosened and she leaned forward to press a kiss to the back of his shoulder. “There is no need for aggression, my love.”  When she dropped her hand to her side and stepped away, Oberyn shifted his eyes back to the smaller man.

“I can assure you that you will not need to protect her - or anyone else here - from me.” He brought both hands to his chest and then opened his palms to the ceiling with a shrug. “We all want the same thing, after all.” As he’d done with everyone else, Tyrion nodded in your direction then. “It is very nice to meet you.” 

“Same to you,” you managed, still slightly awed and confused by his existence. Because it doesn’t… You cut your own thoughts short with the interjection of another one. 

You were only standing where you were because an undead golem creature controlled by one of ancient Westeros’ most powerful families - who were being preserved through some form of blood magic - attacked you in an alleyway before you were rescued by a man dressed in an Oberyn Martell costume that turned out not to be a costume at all, nor was the man just a man but the Prince of Dorne himself and one of the Others, whom you had until that point considered merely part of the pantheon of folklore and children’s stories you’d grown up hearing. 

None of it made any sense. But it’s what’s happening anyway.

“Well, now that we all know one another,” Tyene chimed in, excitement in her voice. “Let’s get to the fun part.” 

“Ah, yes.” Tyrion clapped his palms together, a grin curving up the edges of his mouth. “The fun part.” 

What the hell does that mean? 

You didn’t have to wait long to find out. A few minutes later you were seated at the dining room table next to Oberyn, Toban and Ellaria sitting across from you and Tyrion at the head. This is insane. You were reminded briefly of the silly hypothetical questions that you and Nora would sometimes ask each other for shits and giggles. Those questions included things like, “If you could have dinner with any five people living or not, who would it be and why?” She would never fucking believe this, even if I could tell her. 

What started as a silly thought smacked you in the face as you realized that you might never get to tell your friend about any of it - and that she might never get to meet Oberyn. Another layer of realization peeled away and you tried not to think about the very real possibility that you might never even see her again. 

No. Your eyes closed, the lids creasing from how tightly you squeezed them shut. No.You opened your eyes again, making a decision. I will see you again, Nora, and we’ll go get burgers from that place by your office, and - 

Your plans for a reunion were interrupted by the sound of Oberyn’s voice, just above a whisper, speaking your name. Hmm? Blinking, you turned to find him watching you, a look of cautious concern on his face. Oh, shit, I need to - “Are you alright?” Beneath the table your hand was still held securely in his, his thumb sweeping lightly over your knuckles. “You seem…” His eyes narrowed as he searched for the right word, but you didn’t give him the chance to find it. 

I need to focus on what’s happening here. Now. Wrinkling your nose, you gave a small shake of your head and shifted your joined hands from your lap to his, resting them on his thigh. “I’m fine, Oberyn. Just -” You tilted your head inconspicuously towards Tyrion, the blond man engaged in amicable small-talk with Toban. “It’s a lot to take in.” 

That wasn’t a lie. Sitting down with Tyrion Lannister and hatching a plan to dispatch the rest of his family was a lot to take in. It wasn’t the entire truth, either, but you knew that it wasn’t the time to discuss the things that had just crept into your thoughts. Later. We can talk about that later. 

His lips parted, the tip of his tongue slipping out to dampen them. Before he could say anything else though, Tyene breezed into the room carrying a plastic tray of sliced fruit, half of the torn price sticker still stuck to the edge. What is she… Oh. Your eyes widened in recognition of the ancient Westerosi custom. Despite the things currently weighing on your mind, you let out a small huff of laughter. I mean, yeah. I guess that counts. 

“Okay.” Setting it down next to Ellaria, she pushed it with just enough force so that it slid the length of the table to stop in front of Tyrion. “We served you food and gave you shelter.” She pointed to the ceiling and swirled her finger around as the man she was speaking to reached for a bright yellow slice of mango, an amused quirk to his lips. “And we’re not the fucking Freys, so -” 

Nearly choking on the mouthful of fruit he’d bitten into in an attempt to mask a snort, Tyrion managed to swallow. A small smirk drew its way up the side of his face as he spoke, keeping his eyes on Tyene. “While I do appreciate the gesture - and the refreshments - I already trust everyone present with my life.” One eyebrow jumped as he cocked his head to the side and blindly plucked a grape from the platter, popping it into his mouth. “And that is more than I can say about…well, anyone else that I know.” 

Tyene shot back a smirk of her own, pulling out the chair next to Ellaria and dropping into it in one fluid motion. “Still,” she revealed a small cluster of grapes she must have taken from the tray before sending it in the opposite direction. Lifting it to her mouth, she stopped short of taking a bite to finish speaking. “Can’t hurt. Traditions and shit, right?” At that, she closed her teeth around one plump purple grape and plucked it from the stem. 

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” 

“Perhaps what you could say better, Lord Tyrion-” Oberyn reached forward and grabbed a handful of berries from the tray, popping one in his mouth as he continued. “Is exactly what it is that you are here to discuss.”  

“Yes,” Ellaria agreed. “We are all very eager to hear what you have to say.” She raised one eyebrow and turned in Tyene’s direction. “And why Tyene asked you to come here to say it.”

You knew that Ellaria trusted Tyene completely, so she wasn’t openly questioning her judgment in bringing the man - a Lannister, and by all rights and titles a sworn enemy of the Others - into their safehouse. She’s just not sure how much trust to put in him. Glancing sideways at Oberyn, you saw the same seemed to be true for him. Even though he admitted that Tyrion wasn’t like the rest of them… he’s… 

You watched him pop another berry between his teeth, his eyes never leaving the guest of the evening. He’s hesitant to call him an ally. Considering everything he’d gone through at the hands of Tyrion’s family, though, you couldn’t blame him. Beneath the table, where your hand was still clasped in his, you stroked your thumb over his skin. 

Tyrion chuckled. “Direct and to the point as ever, I see.” He sighed. “Alright, then, no need to draw it out.” Sitting up straighter, he cleared his throat and began. “As you know, there are, and always have been, several people who would love nothing more than to see my dear siblings and our illustrious father relieved of their heads.” He drew one finger in a line across his throat, an exaggerated grimace pulling his mouth down and to the side as he sucked air through his teeth. Clicking his tongue, he cocked his head to one side before swinging it back and forth in a small shake.  “And I’m sure that all of them are well within their rights to want them dead.” 

Out of the corner of your eye you caught Tyene’s small nod, one of her eyebrows raised in an amused arch as she smirked at Tyrion. She had one knee bent and propped against the armrest of her chair, that foot perched in her lap. She seems to agree with him. From what you knew about Cersei, Jaime and Tywin - the originals, anyway - you didn’t doubt it to be true. Especially if they’re just as awful now as they were back then. 

You had studied the Great Wars of Westeros as part of your job. And you knew that no matter how well hidden the true perpetrators and instigators had been, many of the major shifts in power had all boiled down to Lannister machinations. Betrayals, assassinations, bribes and broken promises were par for the course when it came to that family’s lineage. 

When it was all said and done, the number of lives destroyed or cut short by the cruelty and greed of one house numbered in the millions. And if they’re still at it… There was no telling how many more people - humans and Others alike - had suffered or died because of them. It made your stomach twist to consider. They have to be stopped. 

You shifted your eyes from Tyene to Ellaria, trying to gauge what she was thinking now that Tyrion had started to reveal his motives. Though she was sitting back in her chair with her elbows and forearms crossed and resting flat against the table in a relaxed position, the expression she wore was anything but neutral. She looks… Her dark eyes were narrowed in a glare - not at the man who was speaking, but at the words he was saying, and her upper lip twitched into something close to a snarl. The woman looked as frightening as you first feared her to be. Like she’s ready to kill someone. 

But then, almost before that thought finished crossing your mind, Toban’s hand slid down from the back of the chair she sat in to land on her shoulder, the contact wordlessly soothing her. His large palm skated down to her bicep, and if you weren’t looking, you would have missed the small sigh that she released, her eyes closing for half a second. When they opened again they were still sharply focused on Tyrion, but there wasn’t as much unbridled hatred burning in them. 

Oh, that’s interesting. You wondered if Toban had some kind of gift or if his ability to so easily calm Ellaria had to do with the strength of the bond between them. Making a mental note to add that to the growing list of new things that you’d need to ask Oberyn the next time the two of you were alone together, you turned in his direction at the sound of his voice. 

“Yes,” he responded, laying his left arm on the table and leaning slightly over it, his right hand still wrapped around yours under the wooden ledge. His brow was slightly wrinkled in thought, chin inclined so that he could look at a downward angle through the fringe of his dark lashes at Tyrion. Is this what he looked like back then, when he had to represent the Martells in a royal capacity?

There was none of Tyene’s smug confidence, Toban’s ease or Ellaria’s blind rage in Oberyn’s expression, and you realized that was because he was very seriously weighing everything that the man seated across from him was saying. He trusts him. At least enough to hear him out. 

“Yet they are still alive.” The hand on the table curled into a fist and he knocked his knuckles once against the sleek surface. “Still drawing breath, still able to return, and still in control of their fucking Mountain.” He shook his head. “H-” 

“They are indeed.” Tyrion’s tone was blunt and hard. “But that is only because no one has ever had more cause to want them dead, nor more of a chance at making that happen than the people sitting in this room. Myself included.” He released a breath before scrubbing a hand over his hair. “And I know how to kill them. For good.”  

Silence fell over the room then as everyone considered Tyrion’s words. They were true, and you knew it. Your eyes moved slowly around the space, landing briefly on each person at the table. 

Ellaria had made enemies of the Lannisters thousands of years ago when she first denied them the gift of eternal life, and had been fighting them off ever since. For the first time since she came through the door of the other apartment, you noticed something that looked like exhaustion flicker across her features. You tried and failed to quantify the toll it would take on someone - immortal or not - to endure centuries of contention, of always waiting for and trying to anticipate Tywin or Cersei’s next move. What Tyrion was suggesting would finally free her of that. 

Your eyes traveled to Toban next. He had been thrust into the feud from the start, simply because Ellaria had chosen him over a Lannister to be her first. From the moment his second life began, he’d been at risk of attack, constantly looking over his shoulder and Ellaria’s. Maybe that’s why he seems so calm about it all now. Because it’s all he knows. That thought saddened you. But if Tyrion’s plan was successful, Toban might finally get the chance to know peace. 

Blinking, your gaze shifted to Tyene. Though she was actually hundreds of years old, her young features were forever frozen in time. For once, she had discarded the tough persona and you saw something in her eyes that looked like innocence. She, like Toban, had inherited this blood feud from Ellaria. But by the time she became an Other, Oberyn had also been steeped in it for centuries, so unlike Toban, Tyene had had to watch both of them suffer along with being hurt by it herself. In a way, her very creation was a product of it. She deserved a chance to get out from under that cloud, and Tyrion was presenting the best chance she’d been given yet. 

Unshed tears laced with anger and ache and even hope stung the corners of your eyes as they finally landed on Oberyn. For him the feud had begun while he was still human. He’s known the hurt in both lives. It began before he’d even had an opportunity to mourn the loss of his sister, his niece, and his nephew. 

Though he’d told you a little about what things were like for him once he was changed, and you knew that he’d enjoyed plenty in his second life, you also knew that every joy he experienced was limited, dulled even if only slightly by the fact that until this feud was done, he would never truly be able to have what he desired most. 

You swallowed and drew in a breath that shook on the way out. If Tyrion was right and the Lannisters could be killed once and for all, then he might finally not have have his revenge, not only get justice for Elia and her children - but at the same time, create the opportunity to live the rest of his life more fully than he’d ever allowed himself to before. 

And that’s what I want for him, too. It’s what I want for all of them. 

When the silence was finally broken, you were surprised to hear Toban speak up first. “Powerful talk, Lord Tyrion.” His voice had a quality that made it sound as though he was always smiling, even when he wasn’t. “But if you know how to kill them, then why haven’t you done so?” Lifting one hand, he gestured towards Oberyn but kept his focus on the man he was speaking to. “Why did you wait until they almost killed one of us?” 

There was something almost protective in the way that Toban asked that question, like an older brother looking out for his younger sibling. Though you’d been somewhat unsure of what to make of him at first, it was clear that he cared about Oberyn, and not only because of how important he was to Ellaria.  And that makes Oberyn’s reaction so much more interesting.

“It isn’t talk,” Tyrion countered. “But it is powerful.” He interlaced his fingers, placing his joined hands on the tabletop. “Unlike my father who has always measured power in coin, or my sister who counts it in cruelty, or even my brother with all of his ridiculous bravado, I have always known that true power lies elsewhere entirely.” 

“Is that so?” Oberyn posed the question with a contemplative tilt of his head. Tyrion raised a brow and lowered his chin. “And where is it that you have found power, then?” 

Leaning forward, the other man grinned. “In knowing things, Prince Oberyn. And in knowing the right people.” He brought his fingertips to his chest. “I know things.” Tyrion circled his hands outward to the group gathered around the table, making sure to make brief eye contact with everyone - including you. “And you are the right people to share those things with.” 

“Now is not the time to play coy with us, Lannister.” Ellaria’s tone was serious, but not harsh. “If you have something to say, speak.” 

Tyene clicked her tongue and reached to snatch another piece of pineapple from the tray. “She’s right, Tyrion. Enough with the opening statements, this isn’t an HBO courtroom drama.” Despite the tension that hummed around the table, you had to hold back a snort of laughter. She took a bite of the fruit she held, chewing through her next words before popping the rest of the bright yellow chunk into her mouth. “Tell them what you told me.” Shooting her eyes over to meet first with Ellaria’s, and then with Oberyn’s, she swallowed the bite she took. “Trust me, it’s worth it.” 

“It is.” Tyrion insisted, nodding in Tyene’s direction. “But I do understand the urgency,” he added, giving Ellaria a smile that did nothing to change the expression she wore. I get it though. You stared at the blond man. I want to know what the hell he’s got, too. Because if it’s not… Pressing your lips together, you took a deep breath in through your nose. If whatever he’s about to say doesn’t give them an edge then it’s a waste of time, and time is something we don’t have. 

Without letting another second tick by, Tyrion cleared his throat and finally played his card. “You know very well by now that my family has devised a way to cheat death. When you denied their various attempts to get you to change them, make them immortal like you, Cersei and my father took it upon themselves to find the next best thing.” He cringed, top lip pulling up slightly before he continued. “They turned to a man named Qyburn, a reject from the Citadel who was stripped of his Maester chain for conducting…  immoral experiments on living subjects.” 

Your stomach turned at the thought of what those experiments might entail if they were deemed immoral even by ancient standards. Images of dank dungeons, bodies and parts of bodies on stone slabs, iron tongs, rusted forceps, and substances in vials and bottles filled your mind, along with the pain-filled moans and shrieks of those being poked and prodded and tortured - and you forced them away. I don’t want to know. 

Sparing you any details that weren’t directly related to stopping his family from continuing their reign of terror, Tyrion went on. “Primitive and uncivilized as they were, Qyburn’s methods did yield results, though. He is the one responsible for resurrecting Gregor Clegane from almost certain death during a battle. When that was a success, Cersei immediately tasked him with modifying the process used with the Mountain so that the rest of us could join him in his ability to reawaken.”

“So it’s some kind of dark magic?” Toban asked. “Reanimation?” 

You recalled the monster in the alleyway, a shiver passing down your spine as his blood red eyes blinked back at you in your memory. You tried not to think of how many times that thing had been killed and brought back. Or how many people he’s killed. For the hundredth time since the night of the Golden Lion Halloween party, your thoughts turned to how close you’d come to having your skull caved in by the brute’s giant fists. Without realizing it, you were holding your breath, your grip on Oberyn’s hand tightening until your skin strained at your knuckles. 

He realized it right away though, immediately turning to bring his lips close to your ear, whispering into it. “He won’t touch you again.” You felt the tip of his nose brush the shell of your ear before he left a quick kiss there. “I will keep you safe.” 

You closed your eyes and let out a sigh, nodding. I know you will, Oberyn. 

“Indeed.” Tyrion’s answer to Toban’s question made your eyes snap back open. “Blood magic, to be exact, Ser Dayne.” What? “You could say that it was… inspired by the supernatural properties that your blood carries, actually. Qyburn was able to isolate and synthesize the aspect of the Others’ blood that allows for reparative regeneration. In the case of Gregor, he used it to restore the body. The Mountain can take enough damage to kill a man, even one of his size. But given enough time and rest, he will always come back … and be just as he was before.”

“And what about the rest of them?” The softness he’d just offered you was gone from his voice as Oberyn addressed what Tyrion had revealed. “In the case of Cersei? Of Tywin?” He pursed his lips into a casual frown that deepened the divot between his brows. “You?” 

Flinching, the man swallowed. He knows they’re not going to like whatever he’s about to say. “For the rest of us, he… ah…” Tyrion’s palms came together and his scarred brow furrowed. “He applied the synthetic to the genetic makeup of our blood, to keep it from degrading over time so that it can be… um -” His nose wrinkled, as though his explanation disturbed him as much as it did you. “Given as an infusion at the time of rebirth. It ensures that we will always come back exactly the same physically as well as retain all of our personality traits and memories each time.” 

“Disgusting.” Suddenly, Ellaria was on her feet, palms slamming the table as she snarled. “They’ve desecrated the power of our blood. They -” Her eyes widened, going coal black with realization, lining up events from long ago with the information that had just been shared. “They killed two of our kind. Two of my Children.” Pain flickered across her face then, her voice breaking slightly with hatred and anguish. “For this. To study their blood. Our blood. My blood.” She hissed, sucking in a breath. “They will pay.” 

Toban rose silently, both of his hands wrapping around her wrists to lift them gently away from the table, which you noticed was dented from the force of her blow. He used that grip to pull her closer, easing her into his arms so that her shoulder was nestled against the center of his chest. Sliding his palm up her bicep, he pressed his forehead to her temple and whispered something that you knew Oberyn and Tyene had heard but that was a mystery to you. Not that it’s any of my business. Whatever he had said and the way that he held her seemed to have the effect he hoped for, Ellaria nodding at his words and letting him guide her back into her chair. 

“How?” Toban’s naturally deep voice dropped like a rock with the single word. “How do we stop them? How do we kill them?” 

“It’s actually quite simple.” Tyrion cocked his head to one side and then the other. “Relatively speaking, of course.” He sighed. “If you destroy the vials of original Lannister blood that Qyburn enhanced, you take away their ability to return.” Pausing, he locked eyes with Oberyn. “You make them mortal. And mortals are very easy to kill.” 

Your heart thumped against your ribcage as though it was trying to punctuate Tyrion’s point. We are, though. No super strength or speed, no healing abilities…no second chances. That thought forced another to click. Wait. “But won’t that make you mortal, too?” Every eye in the room snapped in your direction at the sound of your voice. Narrowing your eyes, you shook your head. “Wouldn’t destroying the vials mean that you couldn’t come back either?” How can we be sure we can trust him? Why would he put himself at risk for this? What if it’s a- 

“You’re wondering if I am leading you - or rather, your friends here - into a trap.” It wasn’t a question, it was a keen observation on his part. “Wondering why I would cut off my nose to spite my face, so to speak?” You swallowed, nodding. Yeah. Exactly. You were surprised when Tyrion’s jovial features turned slightly sad, the man releasing a breath. “My family has never been kind to me.” He grimaced, a rut forming between his eyebrows.. “Mostly my father and Cersei but… But Jaime, too. They’ve always been cruel, always made sure that I knew that I was only alive because they needed someone to delegate the lowest duties to. They’ve always found ways to make my many lifetimes feel like a journey through all seven hells. They…” His eyes closed and he gave a small shake of his head before opening them again. When he did, their crystal clear depths were trained on you. “I would rather die one final death than continue to be brought back just so my sister has a spider to pull legs from.” 

“I - “ You shook your head and swallowed. Shit, I wasn’t expecting that. “Tyrion, I’m sorry, I didn’t -” 

When he spoke your name, the sadness was gone from his voice. “If anyone here should be apologizing for anything, it certainly isn’t you.” He sighed. “It’s me. For everything that my family has done to all of you.” With a nod and a scrunch of his nose, he swallowed. “Which is also part of why I am here. It’s not just about how they’ve hurt me or the people I’ve cared for over the centuries.” A darkness clouded his eyes as he stared down at the tabletop. “It’s about all the lives they’ve ruined for their own gain. They -” Curling his fingers into a fist, his nostrils flared as he lifted his chin. “They need to be stopped and I simply cannot do it by myself..” 

“Well,” Oberyn tilted his head to the side and leaned forward in his seat. “You have our attention, Lord Tyrion, and-” He paused, shooting a glance over to Ellaria and registering the small nod she gave. “And, for now at least, you have our trust. Tell us what to do. We are listening.” 

The man blinked twice, a somewhat amused grin on his face. “Two thousand years ago, no one in Westeros would believe that I, Tyrion, scourge of House Lannister, would one day serve as Champion for the renowned warrior Oberyn Martell, but here we are.” 

You could practically feel Oberyn’s eyes roll, and despite the seriousness of the situation, had to bite back another laugh.“We will see about that. Talk.” 

And then, without further delay, Tyrion did.

Holy shit. 

You stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, hands gripping the counter’s edge and your weight leaned over them. The water still ran from the tap into the basin of the sink and you let it, despite having finished splashing your face and the back of your neck minutes earlier. The possible reality of what Tyrion had spent the last forty five minutes positing sent a spike of hope and adrenaline through you, and you tightened your fingers on the ledge, eyes widening.

Holy shit, this could really… You watched the pink tip of your tongue flick out between your lips to wet them, and then blew out a breath. No. This is going to work. 

Through the door you could hear the rest of the group talking, a boisterous laugh that sounded like Tyene’s breaking through the jumble of voices. It seemed like everyone else had also recognized the very real chance that they had to end the feud once and for all, a light hum of positivity almost palpable in the apartment since their unlikely ally revealed his plan. And as much as you knew that you shouldn’t get your hopes up too high, it was hard not to. 

Because it’s perfect. Tywin and Cersei… they’ll never see it coming. 

Tyrion had explained exactly how to catch them by surprise, and you had to admit it was good. As he had said in regards to the types of responsibilities that his father saw fit to delegate to him while his siblings were handed lofty positions within the Golden Lion corporation, this time around he had been tasked with overseeing the retrofitting and maintenance of the sewage, plumbing and electrical systems in all of the company’s properties. The literal shit end of the stick, he had joked. 

But while it had certainly been meant to slight him, Tyrion had taken the job seriously. 

It was boring work, far below his intelligence and capabilities. But he looked at it as he did all things - an opportunity to gain more knowledge than he had previously. He started by acquiring the blueprints of every building - offices, residential, recreational, commercial - that the company owned, familiarizing himself with the systems that were already in place, and reaching out to private contractors that would be able to give him suggestions and estimates on the work that needed to be done. 

For years he picked his way through each project, two more springing up whenever he completed one. Most of what he came across was to be expected when dealing with old buildings. Pipes that needed to be replaced, circuits and fixtures that needed rewiring to comply with modern energy and safety standards. But when one of the blueprints revealed the existence of a hidden vault in the sub-basement level of one of their California research facilities, he knew that he had stumbled on something that his father had no idea he had handed him - the location of the blood vials that allowed their lineage to repeat itself. 

Until then, Tyrion had always been kept in the dark about the whereabouts of the original Lannister DNA. Whether it was because they didn’t trust him to know that information or simply didn’t want him to have it so that they could keep the upper hand, he wasn’t sure. But it didn’t matter once he had that blueprint in front of him, because that was the moment when he realized that the shit end of the stick had for once turned into solid gold. 

Knowing where the vials were kept, though the most important piece of the puzzle, didn’t solve it completely, however. The vault was guarded at all times by Gold Cloak security, and Tyrion was well aware that his strengths did not include fighting. So for a few months he sat on the information, continuing to oversee sewage and electrical projects in other buildings while he thought about how to proceed. 

“But then you turned up looking for Gregor at that costume party, Prince Oberyn,” Tyrion had stated, “and it dawned on me. As bright and as big as the Dornish sun, it dawned on me that you and your companions were exactly who I needed to help me put an end to this.” 

Aside from the fact that you and Oberyn had nearly died following your encounter with the Mountain, it was almost as though the stars were aligning. 

With the Lannisters unsure of where Oberyn was or what state he was in, it was the right time to strike. They likely knew that Ellaria would be with him if he was still alive, because they were aware of the bond between Others and their Children. But they had no idea that Tyene and Toban were also there - nor did they think you were still alive. Because most would have killed me to survive.

“And that gives us an advantage, my friends, because it allows us to be in two places at once.” 

He proposed a two-prong attack then. Since Oberyn and Ellaria had already planned to attend Joffery’s engagement party as a way to show Tywin and Cersei that he had survived the Mountain’s attack, Tyrion suggested that they attend his nephew’s actual wedding, too, citing the fact that all of the Lannisters and Gregor Clegane would be there in one place. At the same time as they were arriving at the wedding venue, you, Tyene and Toban would be entering the underground facility to dispatch the guards and destroy the vials before rejoining Oberyn, Ellaria and Tyrion for your victorious escape - and anything that came with it. 

You knew that Oberyn hated the idea of you being there at all, especially if he couldn’t protect you himself. But you also knew that he understood that it was the best option. He wouldn’t want to leave you alone in the apartment, and he wouldn’t want to send either Tyene or Toban out alone, either. The three of you staying together for that phase of the attack was the best way to keep everyone safe. 

And then it will be over.

Your heart thumped with the nervous, cautious hope of that thought. With one last check in the mirror, you finally turned the tap off and dried your face and hands. Tyrion was getting ready to leave as you stepped out into the hallway, the man telling you once again what a pleasure it was to meet you before wishing you a good night. You said the same back to him, still somewhat stunned that you’d met him in the first place, and then quietly made your way into the living room as everyone else said their goodbyes and finalized the next steps of their plan. 

Stretching your arms above your head to release a small pop from between your shoulder blades, you walked to the window and looked out over the city. Below you and all around you, thousands of people carried on with their lives entirely oblivious to the existence of the Others, and to users of blood magic like the Lannisters. It was absolutely wild to think that just a handful of days ago, you were one of them - and that without the chance encounter at the bar, you would have stayed one of them. 

There’s no going back now. 

You’d had that thought multiple times as your involvement with Oberyn grew deeper. But even as you peered out through the glass at the life you’d never fully be able to return to, another thought backed up the first one - stamped just as firmly in your mind. 

I wouldn’t want to even if I could. 

A pair of quiet footsteps entered the room, and without having to turn you knew who they belonged to. 

You did anyway, though, tearing your eyes away from the window to take him in. When you did, you couldn’t help sucking in a gasp at the sight. He was standing in the center of the room, holding his spear and looking at you, and no matter how stunning the view you’d just abandoned was, what you saw in front of you was far more breathtaking. 

Oh, wow. Look at him.

“Hi.” Clearing your throat, you moved away from the window and towards where he stood. “Did I hear Tyrion leave?”  

Oberyn took a breath, his whole chest rising before he let it back out with a nod. “You did.” 

You hummed, gesturing to the weapon in his hand. “Looks like you’re not wasting any time getting into things.” 

“Ellaria was right when she said that I need to practice with my spear.” His eyes wandered up the shaft of the weapon he held. They lingered fondly on the golden snake coiled around the base of the crooked blade before dropping back to you. “And I will admit that I’ve missed it.”

You nodded. She did say that. Oberyn’s free hand reached for yours and you gave it to him. “I’m sure it’ll be like riding a bike for you.” His thick fingers wrapped around your hand and he tugged you a step closer. 

“Will you come up to the roof with me? There will be more space up there for me to familiarize myself with the movements again, and -” the sound of voices from the foyer carried down the hall, Oberyn’s gaze flicking over his shoulder momentarily. “And at this time of night it will be quiet. So we can talk more. About -” 

“Yes.” The word was out of your mouth in nothing flat. Is he kidding? Of course I want to see that. Your excitement must have been written on your face, because you watched as his expression turned to one of amusement. There’s no hiding it, not from him. You gave him a sheepish shrug. “This apartment is nice, Oberyn. But if you think I would rather stay down here knowing what you’re doing up there?” You scoffed and shook your head. “Absolutely not.” No way I’m missing that, especially if he wants me to be there. “Besides.” You stepped closer and pulled your hand free from his hold so that you could place your palm against his chest. “We definitely have more to talk about.”

“We do.” He leaned in, tongue swiping over his lips as he brought his hand up to your cheek. You felt your heart skip off rhythm and caught the glint in his eyes as he noticed, too. His hum lulled your eyes shut, but before he could close the distance and kiss you, someone else entered the room with a snort. 

“You two do know that there are bedrooms with doors in this apartment, don’t you?” 

Swallowing, you froze and opened your eyes as Tyene breezed into the living room, your face warming rapidly even though you knew she was just fucking with you. Immediately confirming that to be true, she smirked and tossed you a wink as she crossed the room to sink into one of the plush armchairs, a glossy magazine in hand. 

Oberyn straightened up but didn’t move away from you, instead drawing you closer to his side even as he turned to face the other woman. “We are aware.” He cocked his head to the side, lowering the spear and using it to indicate the magazine Tyene held. “Surely there is more stimulating reading material available here than -” The pages crinkled as Tyene shifted her grip on it to give him the finger, her eyes rolling playfully as she did. Oberyn grinned then, bringing the weapon back to its original position. “I’m actually glad that you walked in when you did, Tyene. I was going to come find you if you hadn’t.” 

“Oh?” She opened the magazine and scanned the first few pages, deciding which article to read. Four hundred years old and she’s still a typical teenager when it comes to him. 

“I was going to ask if you were up for a few rounds of sparring.” That got her attention far more than whatever she’d chosen to read - you could tell from the way that her shoulders lifted, chest expanding with an unnecessary intake of breath. You knew Oberyn saw it, too, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards before he spoke again. “It has been a long time since we have trained together.” 

You blinked, your own excitement to see him in action growing at the thought of getting to watch the two of them practicing their combat skills with each other. Oh, this is going to be something. 

“Sure.” Without lifting her eyes from the magazine that she was reading, Tyene tilted her head as she spoke. “But I’ll give you some time to warm up first, Oberyn.” She flipped the page, lifting a brow in an attempt to feign mild interest at whatever headline was scrawled atop the new one. A slight smirk that she couldn’t contain curved her lips as she turned another page. “Let you shake out the rust before I -”

The rich, full sound of his warm laughter pulled your focus back to his face. Small creases formed around his eyes, stretching out like sun rays as his smile pushed his cheeks higher.  “Easy, little snake.” He warned her with the arch of an eyebrow. “Never forget who taught you how to strike.” 

“I could never.” Tyene grinned, adjusting her position to settle more deeply into the armchair. Crossing her legs, she cocked her head to the side. “But you shouldn’t forget that part of what you taught me was that there is always more to learn.” She clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Like you said, it’s been a long time since we’ve trained together. I might have picked up a thing or two since then.” 

Oberyn chuckled, his shoulders lifting slightly. The gleam in his dark eyes was playful and teasing, but in it you also saw pride and affection for Tyene, the expression tugging at your heart. They mean so much to each other.  “Good.” He nodded. “I’m counting on it.”  

“See you in an hour, then.” With that, Tyene went back to skimming the magazine that was resting in her lap, and Oberyn let go of your waist, his hand once again wrapping around yours. 

He led you into the hall, the long space empty and silent. But I just heard  them talking. Where’s - Before you could finish your thought though, Toban stepped out from the bedroom closest to the front door, a relaxed smile on his face that seemed to round the edges of his square jaw. 

“Did I hear you and Tyene discussing a sparring session, Oberyn?” He crossed his arms casually over his chest, his emerald eyes moving with interest from Oberyn’s spear to your face. You felt his gaze linger on the mark on your throat, his chin angled slightly so that he could see it more clearly. It didn’t make you uncomfortable exactly, but you wondered why he was so fixated on it. He saw it as soon as he met me. Noticed it right away. You blinked. And as far as I know it hasn’t changed, so…  why does he keep - He brought his eyes back up to look directly at the man beside you as he continued. “And if so, would you mind if I joined you?” 

Oberyn’s grip on your hand tightened, and you knew that the other man noticed even though he didn’t react. “You did hear that.” His tone wasn’t quite clipped, but it lacked the jovial quality that you heard when he spoke to Tyene or Ellaria. I really need to know more about them. “And if you would like to join us, Toban, then I will certainly not stop you.” Toban’s smile widened as Oberyn’s eyebrows came together in question. “Where is Ellaria?”

Dropping his arms, Toban used one hand to indicate the front door. “She decided to follow Tyrion home, to make sure that the rest of the Lannisters did not have him followed here.” Smart. “She said she would be taking a longer route back in case anyone happened to be watching.” He lowered his hand to his side and tilted his head as he shrugged. “But with the Mountain still healing from his encounter with you, I doubt they would risk sending anyone else.” 

Oberyn let out a huff. “Let’s hope you are right.” He tapped the end of the spear shaft on the tiled floor. “But either way it’s best to be prepared.” Not waiting for a response, he took a step towards the door. “I am -” His eyes flicked to you and warmed significantly compared to the way he looked at Toban. “We,” he corrected himself, giving your hand another squeeze and a gentle pull, “are heading to the roof now, but Tyene is planning on coming up in about an hour. If you would like to join us then, you are welcome to, of course.” 

“Alright. See you in an hour, then.” Toban gave the two of you a single nod, watching as you stepped out the front door. 

You heard the lock click into place behind you, and then you and Oberyn were alone in the building’s hallway, heading for the elevators. Stepping into the car beside him, you watched as he pressed the button for the roof. But as the doors closed, meeting in the middle to form a solid, reflective surface, your eyes caught on the tip of Oberyn’s spear, and something occurred to you that hadn’t before. 

“Wait, are -” When you looked up at him, you found that he was already looking down at you with curiosity. I can’t believe I’m just realizing this, but… “Oberyn, are you going to use real weapons to spar with Tyene and Toban?” 

Oberyn grinned. “We are. Tyene fights with a pair of daggers, and Toban favors a longsword.” 

Your eyes widened. The same as the Mountain. “But…” Shaking your head, you furrowed your brow in confusion. “Isn’t that dangerous? What if you actually cut each other? I mean, I know you all can heal pretty damn fast, but doesn’t it take a lot out of you to do that? Wouldn’t… you’d all have to drink after that, to replenish. And -”  

Letting out a chuckle, Oberyn leaned over and laid a kiss to your temple. What’s so funny? “It won’t be a problem.” You felt his lips linger, curving into a smile before he pulled away to look at you again. “You are very considerate, but you don’t need to worry.” He dropped your hand then, plunging his own into his pocket to pull out a small brown glass bottle. “Poison is not the only thing that I tip my blades with, contrary to my reputation.” Giving the bottle a shake, he offered it to you. 

You turned it over in your hand, a viscous liquid sloshing inside of it. He wouldn’t have handed it to me if it was something dangerous. “What is this?” 

“That,” Oberyn stated, a hint of pride in his tone, “is my own creation.  I learned to make it in my time at the Citadel. It creates a protective barrier between a weapon and the skin, so that we can train freely without worrying about the consequences. With this on my blade, I won’t do more damage than a butter knife would.” That’s so smart. He shrugged. “And for us? Cuts that shallow will close almost immediately.” 

The light above the door flashed to let you know that you’d made it to the top, the car coming to a stop beneath your feet. You handed the bottle back to Oberyn and followed him out into the small enclosed space that led out onto the rooftop. 

“Does it only work for you? What would happen if a -” You stopped yourself from saying the word human. It made the difference between the two of you seem far larger than it felt, and you didn’t want to draw attention to that fact - especially after Tyrion’s comment on how fragile mortals were. “What would happen if I got cut?” 

“That will not happen.” His response was immediate, a slight edge to his tone, but then he sighed and answered your question more accurately. “But if it did, you would feel it. It probably would not go deep enough to require stitches, but it would bleed.”

Even discussing the unlikely possibility of you being hurt seemed to cause him distress, so you steered the conversation in a different direction. “Well then I’ll be sure to watch from a distance.” You winked at him as he stepped ahead of you to open the glass door that led out into the patio area. “I’m looking forward to seeing you in action.” 

The night air carried a breeze that tousled his hair, the moonlight catching the silvery strands hidden in his dark curls. He flashed a grin, one that he knew damn well would make you suck in a breath. “Then I will try not to disappoint.” 

You scoffed through a smile then, shaking your head as you walked over to the railing. Looking back at him over your shoulder, you rolled your eyes over the top of your smile-raised cheeks. “Not possible, Oberyn.” 

You let out a breath as you returned your gaze to the city lights and the moonlit sky, but you turned back to face him when he spoke your name. “I need to move some of these tables and chairs out of the way. If I am going to spar with Tyene and with -” you noticed the tick of his jaw as it tightened. “With Toban, I need more space.” He took a step closer to you, reaching for your right hand. “Will you hold this for me while I do that?” 

Hold wha- oh. Before the question was even half formed in your thoughts, he was lifting your hand up to curl around the shaft of his spear. Holy shit, I’m holding… he’s letting me… You sucked in a breath as you felt how smooth the wood was beneath your palm, Oberyn’s hand sliding yours into place and then curling your fingers into a secure grip. Making sure that the blunt end was still flush with the ground, he completely covered your hand with his own, bringing the other to your waist. 

“Tyene was not joking when she mentioned how sharp I kept this blade,” he said, eyes flicking from where they were locked with yours up to the tip of the spear. You followed his gaze as moonlight struck the edge of it, the steel glinting lethally against the darkness. “Hold it just like that.” Dropping both arms back to his sides, he took a step back and tilted his chin downwards before lifting it slowly in appraisal. Your breath caught as you watched something just as deadly as the blade flash mischievously in his eyes. “That looks good in your hands.” 

His comment, combined with the way he was looking at you - head cocked at an angle, the tip of his tongue sliding along the seam of his lips - made your heart skip again. The lift of one cheek higher into his eye as his grin grew told you that he was aware of the change, too. Of course he is. 

You let out a breath and licked at your lips, head shaking side to side as Oberyn turned to start moving chairs out of his way. “Maybe.” He looked over at you again, arching one eyebrow as he lifted a side table and stacked it on top of another one. “But it’s much more useful in yours.” I’d cut my own damn head off if I tried to do anything more than hold this. 

“I’m after a few lessons you would be able to make use of it.” You watched him stack another set of tables. “Perhaps one day soon I will get the chance to teach you a few things.” Oh. That would be… Your heart pounded at the thought of Oberyn standing directly behind you, placing your hands on the shaft, directing the motion of your hips as he showed you how to step and thrust for the best angle of attack. Fuck. “For now though, I’m -” He walked over to the sectional patio couch and bent down to place his hands on the cushions. Shooting you a wink over his shoulder, he continued. “I am very happy to look.” 

You shook your head, breath coming through your nose in an amused exhale. That makes two of us. Keeping your eyes on his back, you watched as he pushed the furniture towards the railing, taut muscles straining the fabric of his shirt. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re an incorrigible flirt, Prince Oberyn?” 

Straightening up, he laughed, the sound rich and warm. A few days ago I didn’t think I’d ever get to hear that sound again. “I may have heard that before.” He shrugged, lips dipping into a false frown before lifting again. “One or two… thousand times.” 

Your free hand came to your hip as you watched him measure out the space he’d just cleared in footsteps. “I bet that’s an understatement.” 

Seemingly satisfied with the area, Oberyn held up one finger and turned with a sweeping step, closing the distance until he stood directly in front of you. “Perhaps. But it is a good thing that I am so incorrigible.” His left hand rose to curl around the spear, just below where you held it so that your pinky was stacked atop his pointer finger. With a grin, he looped his right arm through the angle of your bent elbow and wound it around your back. “Otherwise -” Palm splaying along your spine, he used it and your shared grip on the spear to pull you closer. “We may have never met.” 

Without hesitation, you leaned in to kiss him. The hand on your hip came up to rest against his cheek as his plush lips parted to accept yours. Despite the fact that you had been the one to initiate it, you sucked in a breath as he kissed you back, still not fully used to the rush that came with it. I’m not sure I ever will be. Trusting that he had a firm enough grip on the weapon, you let it go and brought your right hand up to the other side of his face and around to tangle your fingers in his hair. 

The second you tightened your grip on his curls, a husky groan slipped through his kiss. You smiled against his lips at the knowledge that you pulled that sound from him so easily. “I’m glad we did, Oberyn.” 

He rested his forehead against yours as he swept his thumb along your spine. “So am I.” 

As much as you would have loved to stand there in his hold all night, you knew that under the current circumstances - the impending confrontation with the Lannisters and Gregor and all the preparation that would have to go into taking them down - you couldn’t. 

You had gone up to the roof so that Oberyn could train, but also so that the two of you would have the chance to talk about things in private. And there are things I need to ask him before Tyene and Toban get here, so… You sighed and pulled away, letting one hand fall back to your side, the other reaching for the spear again. 

He seemed to come to the same conclusion. “I guess I should get started, hmm?” 

You nodded, eyebrows coming together as you swallowed. “Can I ask something? Before…” He tilted his head in question as you trailed off. “Before Toban comes up, I -” His expression flickered slightly at the mention of the other man. Yeah, that’s what I need to know about. You sighed. “Oberyn, I can tell there’s tension between the two of you, and I’m sure there’s a reason for that. And if you want to tell me about it later? I’ll gladly listen.” He nodded once. “But for now, before I spend any time with him, is there anything I need to know? Anything you don’t want me to say? Or…”

Your words trailed off as Oberyn’s hands came up to rest on your biceps, palms rubbing up and down gently. “You do not need to hold anything back from Toban Dayne.” He rolled his eyes before letting go of your arms and reaching forward to finally relieve you of the spear. “I know he will not hold anything back from you.” 

Is that… a good thing? You heard the clank of wood against concrete as he set the weapon down, leaning it against the arm of the couch. “I know you must trust him or else he wouldn’t be here.” Your shoulders rose in a small shrug. “I just figured… if there were any… uncomfortable topics to avoid, I should know about them.” 

“I appreciate you asking, but there are no secrets, and I would  never presume to tell you what you can or cannot say to anyone.” He brought both hands back to your body then, one resting at your waist. The other he raised to your throat, fingertips just grazing the mark and causing the skin to tingle. “All I ask is that you give me a chance to explain anything he tells you.” Oberyn let out a sigh. “I do trust Toban. He and I have not always seen eye to eye on things, but ultimately we are on the same side.” 

That was good enough for you. For now, anyway. “Alright.” Nodding, you licked your lips and let them curve into a smile as his hand came to rest on the side of your neck. “In that case?” You tilted your head towards his spear. “I think it’s time for you to show me what you can do with that.” 

He said your name then, eyes flashing as he winked at you. “It would be my pleasure.” 

You focused on the movement of Oberyn’s hands - on the way his grip changed as his wrists twisted intentionally over one another to create the twirling motion. There was a quiet thunk every time the ring on his thumb made contact with the wood, his fingers curling around it with the same dexterity that a musician would use to coax a melody from an instrument. He hasn’t even held it in thousands of years but… A shaft of silver moonlight sifted through the clouds and caught the beveled edge of the crooked blade to make it glint against the night. But it’s like he never put it down. It’s natural.   

As that thought crossed your mind though, you felt a tight pang of sadness in your chest. No. The clouds covered over the moon again as he went through another pass of the form he was practicing. Drawing one leg up onto your seat, you frowned, lips pulling down and to the side. 

It would feel even more natural for him if he were doing this in the daylight. He had first learned to fight on the sands of Dorne, with the bright, unfettered sun warm on his skin as he repeated the techniques enough times to commit them to muscle memory. This - an LA rooftop in the middle of the night - couldn’t have been more different from that. 

You sighed, your eyes flicking down to the opened buttons of his white Henley, where the absence of his gold pendant was noticeable. The cool autumn breeze brought a chill into the air that make you shiver, and you shrugged more deeply into the sweater that you wore. You tried to remind yourself that it was only temporary - that he would be able to walk in the sunlight again soon, the intricately cast medallion once again hanging from his neck. He’ll need it back for the engagement party, so…  just a few more days.  

Blinking, you switched your attention to his forearms, watching them flex as he directed the spearhead to control the balance of the weapon. His feet slid almost silently over the concrete as he moved backwards three paces before turning with a wide but calculated sidestep so that he faced you directly. Without missing a beat, he raised one eyebrow and tilted his head to the side, grin climbing up that cheek. 

“So what do you think?” Breaking from the repetitive movements, he quickly changed his grip so that both hands were wrapped around the middle of the spear’s handle, and then lunged, thrusting the point of it only a few inches from where you sat. “Do I stand another chance against the Mountain?” 

As much as you hated the thought of him going toe to toe with that monster again, you had to admit that the fact that Oberyn would have his spear - and his armor - this time around made you far less worried. You let your lips curve into a small smile, and were rewarded as the one on his face reached his eyes, their depths shining. 

“I think that if you had this spear with you at that costume party, Oberyn?” You stood then, one hand coming up to gently push the end of the weapon aside so you could safely close the distance between the two of you. Shaking your head, you dropped your arm back to your side as he pulled back and set the flat end of the spear against the ground. “Things would have gone very differently for all of us.” 

He hummed, his free hand reaching for your hip as his eyes locked with yours. “I am inclined to agree with you.” 

Another breeze swept through the space between your bodies to play with the tassel hanging from the spear and ruffle the fringe of hair that fell over his forehead. It’s chilly tonight. You took a breath in through your nose, the crisp autumn air filling your lungs as you placed both of your hands on his chest. But he’s not cold. 

You smiled at that thought and stepped even closer, flattening your forearms against him to soak up the warmth coming through his shirt. The fingertips of your left hand slipped up and over his collar to glide over his skin. He’s not cold at all.

When he spoke again you felt his words vibrating against your palms where you touched him. “Fighting with a weapon like this one gives me better control of the distance between myself and my opponent. It lets me keep them at a greater length than a sword or a dagger would allow.” That makes sense. 

You saw the flash of his grin and the mischievous twinkle in his eye that told you something was coming, but you were still unprepared for how swiftly he moved. Gasping, you felt him release your hip and swing the spear around behind you, using the same hand that he’d just had resting near your waist to instead grip the shaft of the weapon. With the pole pressed to your back, he used it to pull you flush against him, his arms caging you between his torso and the polished wooden handle. “Or…” He flicked his eyes down to your chest, watching the dramatic rise and fall before tilting his head to speak directly into your ear. “I can keep them close.” 

Your heart skipped as his teeth raked your skin, and though it didn’t seem possible, you melted into him even more. He’s never going to play fair with me, is he? You wound your arms up and around his neck and as he tilted his head back to look at you once more, you realized something and it made you grin. That means I don’t have to, either. 

“Oh, is that what I am, Oberyn?” You raised one eyebrow, right hand sliding into his hair to make a loose grip. “An opponent?” Tightening your fist so that your knuckles dug lightly at his scalp, you pulled a groan from him that made you both grin. “Someone you need to fight?” Oberyn stared at you for a few moments before responding with a slow shake of his head. 

“No.” He took a step backwards, eyes falling to your lips as his own curved into a grin, and despite the fact that he had somehow put more warmth in the word than you would have thought possible, you shivered. The handle of the spear pressed gently into your back, Oberyn using it to corral you even closer. Another step brought his calves in contact with the cushion of the L shaped patio lounge, and you sucked in a breath as he rolled the length of smooth wood down into the dip where your spine met your pelvis. “I can think of many things that I would rather do with you than fight.” He lowered himself into a seated position, urging you to follow. “Much better reasons to keep you close.” 

“Good.” Your knees sunk into the cushion on either side of his lap, but you didn’t settle your weight on his thighs. “Because I wouldn’t last a single second against you.”

He chuckled, the low rumble from his chest accompanying a wolfish grin. “Do not sell yourself short.” His rings clanged against the wooden spear as he tightened his grip on it to force your weight down on top of him, a startled gasp slipping from your lips as you felt him solidly beneath you. Though he wasn’t hard it didn’t take much to imagine what it would feel like when he was. Fuck. You nearly moaned, heat flooding your entire body as he lifted his hips with you still straddled over them. “I think you will last more than a few seconds when we -” 

The sound of a throat clearing cut the rest of his words short, and you froze as Tyene’s voice hit your ear. 

“When I said you should warm up with your spear, Oberyn -” You slowly turned your head to watch her saunter over, your heart thudding wildly in your ears at the slight embarrassment of being caught. Her left eyebrow rose as she used one finger to indicate the two of you and the position that you were in before crossing her arms over her chest and sticking one hip out. “This is not what I meant.” 

Shit. I… she’s right, I should… he needs to be taking this seriously and - You tried to lift yourself from Oberyn’s lap, but though he’d set his weapon aside at Tyene’s arrival, his hands kept you firmly in place, both of them flattened against the small of your back. 

“You have your methods for preparing for a fight, little snake.” Oberyn flexed his fingers so they dug lightly into you, and then he let his palms slip around to the tops of your thighs with a shrug. “And I have mine.” 

Mine. 

You took a breath, letting the word wash over you, warmth dropping into your belly as it did. You would gladly be his pre-fight preparation. You would gladly be his anything, if given the chance.

I am yours, Oberyn. 

Leaving his hands where they lay, and continuing his conversation, Oberyn glanced over Tyene’s shoulder. “Where is Toban? He said he wanted to-“ 

“Ellaria’s back.” Oh, good. Though you weren’t truly worried about Ellaria running into anything she couldn’t handle, you were relieved to know she’d made it back safely - and without being followed. “He was just talking to her, and then he said he’ll be right up.” 

“We’ll have to get started without him, then.” He gently tapped your leg and you shifted off of his lap and onto the cushion of the lounge furniture. Pulling the bottle he’d shown you earlier out of his pocket, he handed it to Tyene. “Get yourself prepared, and then show me what you’ve learned since our last dance.” 

She took the bottle with a flourish, unscrewing the cap and pulling one of two daggers from her belt. “Gladly.” 

You watched the two of them in wide-eyed wonder as they twirled and lunged, dodged and clashed their weapons together under the moonlight. 

A few times they had nicked one another, and you witnessed the substance that Oberyn had crafted work in real time as long cuts that should have gone much deeper appeared and vanished over their forearms and sides. The blades left a few slashes in their clothing - Tyene had a tear across the front of her shirt and Oberyn’s left sleeve was shredded - but no actual harm remained on their bodies. That’s incredible. 

The door to the patio opened behind you, but you kept your eyes on the scene in front of you until the other man was standing right next to where you sat. Though Oberyn had told you about his weapon of choice, it still came as somewhat of a shock to see the sword that he carried. Going through customs at the airport must be interesting for them. 

“Looks like you’ve got front row seats.” Toban spoke your name, nodding towards where Oberyn and Tyene were circling each other a few feet away. I sure do. He blinked away from the fight and glanced down at you, sharp eyes focused on your face. “Mind if I sit?”

Crossing your left leg over the right, you gestured to the cushions beside you. “Of course not, Toban, there’s plenty of room.” 

He let out a sigh as he lowered himself onto the couch, a relaxed look of contentment settling over his features. “Thank you.” Returning his attention to the action, he tilted his head closer to yours. “Did I miss anything exciting?” 

You mean aside from two expertly skilled immortal warriors engaged in a fight? “Um…” You cleared your throat. “They uh, they just got started a few minutes ago, so-” 

Before you could finish your response the clang of metal on stone rang out through the air, one of Tyene’s daggers clattering to the ground. “I’ve taken one of your fangs, little snake,” Oberyn chided while deftly twirling the spear back to ready position. “Plan your next strike carefully.” 

Tyene huffed, tossing her remaining dagger from her left hand to her right. “What makes you think I haven’t planned it already?” 

The soft scrape of their bootsoles on the pavers signaled the end of their banter as they began circling each other again. Toban chuckled under his breath. “Guess I got here just in time for the good part, hmm?” 

Oberyn used the blunt end of the spear to knock the weapon Tyene dropped further from her reach, and you exhaled through your nose in a huff of laughter. “Guess you did.” You glanced over at the man next to you as he stretched out his long legs, casually stacking his ankles and folding his arms over his chest. “Is Ellaria coming up, too?” 

Still watching the dueling pair in front of you, Toban clicked his tongue and shook his head. “No. She said she has other preparations that need to be handled before the engagement party.” That makes sense. I’m sure there’s…  He shifted his focus to you, eyes lingering on the mark on your throat before coming up to shoot a wink at you. “That means she’s online, shopping for something to wear to this party.”

You weren’t expecting that, and the image of Ellaria Sand stretched out in bed or sprawled on the couch in the apartment downstairs while she scrolled fashion sites on her phone made you laugh. Good for her. Before you could comment, though, Toban was speaking again. 

“Do you know what it means?” He tilted his head to the side, focus slipping down to your throat, and you knew he was talking about your mark. “Did he…” A crease formed between his brows, and even in the dark you could see something close to concern flicker in Toban’s eyes. “What did Oberyn tell you about that mark he gave you?” 

Your heart pounded against your ribs as your fingers came up to absently brush the spot just under your jawline. I guess this is what he meant about Toban not holding back. Glancing across the patio, you saw - and felt - as Oberyn’s eyes darted to where you were sitting. There was no doubt that Oberyn could hear every word of your conversation, even over the sound of his blade clashing with Tyene’s. And about there not being any secrets. 

“He…” Fingers curling towards your palm, you dropped your hand away from your jawline and nodded. “Yes.” You cleared your throat, watching as Oberyn spun away, lifting the spear over his head to block Tyene’s attack. “He told me that it means that I’m under his protection. That none of… of your kind will hurt me in any way because of it.” 

Your attention shifted back to the man beside you as he spoke. “That is true.” Lifting one eyebrow, his mouth quirked to the side in a smirk. “I do not know every Other who walks the Earth, but I do know that not a single one of them would dare cross the Red Viper.” 

As if on cue, Toban’s words were punctuated by the shing of steel on stone as Oberyn sent Tyene’s second dagger flying from her hand. It was the third round in a row that he’d bested her, and the quickest. And this is just practice against someone he knows and trusts. “But I -“ Your tongue slipped out to wet your lips. “I know it means more to him than that.” 

Using the blade end of his spear, Oberyn scooped one of Tyene’s fallen weapons up, flipping it in one fluid motion to catch it by the hilt. “One more?” He asked as she retrieved the other one. “Or have you shown me all your new tricks yet?” 

Tyene’s response came in the form of the finger and a slew of what you assumed were swears in Valyrian. Laughing as she shook her head, she snatched the blade back from him. But as she turned to take the ready position, you caught the way Oberyn looked over at you - his eyes focused on yours, lips pressed together, a small shadow darkening his brow as his forehead wrinkled slightly. Without the moonlight shining on his hair, you might have missed the small nod of his head, encouraging you to keep going. 

“Do you?” Toban’s voice pulled your attention back to him.

Blinking, you licked your lips. “Yes, I do. He told me -” You sucked in a breath as the weight of what you were about to say dropped into your chest with the same heft that it did when Oberyn explained things to you. “He told me it’s been 400 years since he’s done this. And he told me why, too.” 

Toban hummed. “So you understand how important you are to him then? What it means that he has broken 400 years of denying himself that bond? For you?” 

It means it’s going to devastate him when I die. You swallowed, trying to rid the bitter taste of that thought from your tongue. But it also means… “It means that he wants me in his life. For however long is possible. And I -” You kept your eyes on Oberyn, on the fluidity of his motion, the shine of his smile. “I want that, too.” 

“However long is possible?” Toban shifted in his seat so that he could look at you more fully, and though you wanted to continue to watch the sparring session, you sensed that the conversation you were having was heading for deeper waters. You turned three quarters of the way towards the man beside you as he went on. “You know by now that eternity is possible.” I do, but - “What would you say to eternity?” 

Your mouth went dry then, heart thudding hard against your ribs. I would say yes. I… there would be things I needed to take care of first, but I would say yes. It still scared you a little to know that that was how you felt about someone you had only known for such a short period of time. But it did nothing to change the facts. 

That wasn’t what you said, though. Instead, you shook your head. “It doesn’t matter, Toban, because he also told me that he can’t make that offer, and I understand why.” But you know that’s not what my first thought was, don’t you.

The emerald green eyes trained on you narrowed slightly. “Oberyn told you about the last person he gave his mark to.” That was a statement, and one that you had already confirmed, so you knew that there was something else coming. “But has he told you about Cameron?” 

Who? You knew that your expression answered for you, but you gave him one anyway with a slow shake of your head. “No.” 

“I see.” Toban nodded. “Well, let me fill you in. Cameron was someone that Oberyn had started to become close to. This was -” He tilted his head in thought for a few seconds. “Maybe a century ago? They traveled together, trained together. For a time they were inseparable. I think in some ways they were in love.” You listened closely. “But Oberyn remained resolute in his decision not to strengthen that bond by using his mark or by offering to change his companion until he was free of his quest for revenge and justice.” 

Without realizing it, you had lifted your fingers to brush at the space under your jaw. Your pulse thumped against the tips of them, as though reminding you that while Oberyn had broken half of his rules for you, you remained human, just like Cameron. And I’ll stay that way, because …

“At that time, like other times throughout our lives, we had made enemies of some different groups within the Others.” Toban explained. “One group from Braavos, in particular. I knew that they would stop at nothing to find ways to hurt us. They had already tried to kill one of Ellaria’s Children, and it was only a matter of time before they sought a way to deliver a blow to Oberyn, too. Cameron would have been the easiest target for them, and he had been left unprotected.” 

You gasped quietly. Oh, Oberyn.  “Did they… did they get to him?” 

Toban sighed then, a look crossing his face that you couldn’t quite place. It was somewhere between sorrow and sympathy, a touch of regret reaching his eyes and setting his handsome features into a frown. “They did not. Because I stepped in first.” 

In the distance, you heard Tyene swear as Oberyn’s spear slipped at her thigh, and when you looked over you saw that he was watching you and Toban while he waited for her to reset. But he wanted me to talk to Toban, so… You returned your attention to the other man. “What do you mean by that?” 

“I mean I gave Cameron my mark of protection to keep him safe from our enemies. For Oberyn. I acted so he would not have to suffer that loss, too.” 

That shocked you. It was a selfless thing, a generous gift. But you knew that the story did not have a happy ending. Not for Oberyn, at least. “That’s…” You shook your head. “Did it work?” 

Toban raised his eyebrows and nodded. “It did. It kept Cameron safe. Kept him alive.” He sighed again, the action making his broad shoulders sag. “But it also changed Cameron’s feelings toward Oberyn. It hurt him to know that despite their connection, he wouldn’t offer the same thing that I had given him. Soon, Cameron spent less and less time with Oberyn, and more time with me. Until one day he…” Toban brought a hand to his head and smoothed it back over his hair. “He asked me to change him.” Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open. “And I said yes.” 

“Oh.” Your voice was small but you knew he heard you. You knew Oberyn heard you, too. So that’s why… that’s part of why their relationship is so… 

You heard Toban speak your name then, and you blinked, focusing on him once more. “I am glad it will not be the same with you.” He cautiously raised his hand towards your neck, and you let him graze his fingers over your mark without knowing what to expect. It didn’t feel the same as it did when you or Oberyn touched it, and the contact didn’t linger, Toban withdrawing his hand and settling it back in his lap to clasp around the hilt of his sword. “I’m glad that he found you.” 

“I -” What? 

“Toban!” Tyene’s exasperated voice interrupted your response as she called to him from across the roof. “I’m tapping out. Softened him up for you though, so -” At that, Oberyn gave her a small shove, the woman stumbling but catching herself with quick footwork. 

“One second,” Toban responded, a grin curving his lips. He turned back to you. “It was a pleasure talking with you. I look forward to getting to know you more after all of this is over.” With that, he rose and made his way over to trade places with Tyene, who approached you just as Oberyn handed the bottle off to Toban so that he could coat his sword in the protective solution. 

You knew you must have had a wild look in your eyes from the way she studied you, but you couldn’t help it after everything Toban had just revealed. And as much as you wanted to stay and watch the two men train, you were relieved when Tyene cocked her head to the side and asked if you wanted to go back inside. 

“It’s cold out here,” she offered as an out, even though she knew the temperature had nothing to do with the things you were trying to process. “I’m gonna go take a hot shower in that big ass bathroom downstairs. There’s another one in the bedroom you’re staying in, too, if you wanted to -” 

Not even letting her get to the end of her suggestion, you stood. “Yeah.” You nodded. “That sounds really good, actually. Let me just -” You pointed towards where Oberyn and Toban were getting ready to square up. “I’ll let Oberyn know, and -” 

“Alright. I’ll wait for you.” She placed her hand on your shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze before  heading off in the direction of the small glass lobby that housed the elevator. 

Telling her you’d be right behind her, you pressed your lips together and made your way over to where Oberyn stood. As soon as he saw you in motion, he set down his spear and strode to meet you halfway. His large, warm hands came to rest at your waist the moment you were within his reach. “Are you alright?”

For a few seconds all you could do was stare up into the brown - almost obsidian - eyes that scanned your face. Eventually you nodded, one hand coming up to brush his windswept and tousled hair back into place. He sighed at your touch, leaning into it. “I am, Oberyn. That was just…” You shivered then, as much from the weight of your thoughts as from the night chill. Too much for anyone, and …  

He gave you a small smile that wasn’t quite sad, but didn’t light his face the way it usually did. “I know. This is a lot to take in. I promise I will explain everything to you tonight when we’re done here.” He flexed his fingers where he held you. “Go ahead inside and get warm and comfortable. We won’t be much longer.” 

Throat tight with a mix of emotions, all you could manage was a nod and a quiet “okay.” He leaned down to brush his lips against yours, and then he released you, turning back to where Toban stood waiting. 

Holy shit. 

On slightly shaky legs, you went to meet up with Tyene, the two of you taking the elevator down in near silence, until the light above the door indicated that you were almost back to your floor. 

“Hey. I'm glad you know, now,” she said, bumping you gently with her elbow. “How much you mean to him, I mean.” 

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Me too.” 

When you reached the apartment, Tyene turned to give you a brief hug before disappearing into one of the bedrooms. After standing in the hall for a few seconds to collect yourself, you did the same, suddenly desperate to be under the warm flow of water so that you could peel apart your thoughts and examine them in peace. 

You weren’t sure how long you stayed in the shower, but when you got out you felt as though you’d absorbed what Toban had told you as best as you could. Under the circumstances, anyway.

Changing into a pair of olive green sweats and a tan long sleeve shirt, you opened the slider door to the balcony off your bedroom and stepped back into the night. You were only alone out there for a few minutes, though. After the time you had taken to yourself you were happy to be back in his company - alone. 

“Outside again, hmm?” You heard the sound of the glass door rolling along its track as he pulled it shut after stepping out into the small space. “You’re not too cold?” 

Lips curving upwards, you continued to gaze out at the city below. “I like the view.” You shrugged and let out a sigh before pushing off the railing to turn to face him. “And I know you’ll keep me w -” 

A pair of arms wrapped around you from behind then, stopping your motion and keeping you facing forward. “My view is much better.” Though he spoke directly into your ear, you could feel his beard as it rasped over the skin of your neck, just below the line of your jaw. Sucking in a breath, you melted against his chest as you let it back out, his body heat seeping into your skin. “And I will keep you warm.” His hold on you tightened as he dragged his mouth over the invisible mark. “Very warm.” 

You shuddered at the sensation, eyelids falling closed and his name coming out in a gasp. That feels incredible. Reaching back with one hand to rake your fingers through his hair, you hummed as he left a slow, lingering kiss to the underside of your jaw before straightening up again. 

“I will need to go back inside before the sun comes up.” You felt his fingertips running up the length of your right forearm before sliding slowly back down. “But we can stay out here for as long as you want until then.” At Oberyn’s words, Toban’s mention of an eternity played back in your mind. 

“Okay,” you murmured, letting the hand that was in his hair come back around to the front of your body to rest over his arms where he held you. An eternity of this would be amazing, but for now … I’ll take tonight.

“And,” he tightened his hold then. “I would like to tell you about Cameron. Ask me anything you want to know.” 

“Everything,” you responded, leaning your head back against his chest. “I want to know everything, Oberyn.” 

Tag list reblogs coming soon! 

[screaming-blue-bagel]

Bed of Roses [rockstar!eddie munson x fem!plus-sized reader]

pt. 1 The Single

warnings: mentions of cheating, angst, this is based on the song by Bon Jovi but I'm going to pretend Eddie wrote the song (and any other songs I might include)

*do not post my work on other sites or take my original work. likes and reblogs are welcome*

wc: 2.1k

Please comment if I should make this a series!

*I recommend listening to Bed of Roses by Bon Jovi while reading.

He just released a new single. I hate it. It’s why I’m sitting down on the bathroom floor with a runny nose, tear-stained face, and a near empty bottle of wine. My eyes and lips are swollen, and the tears stopped falling hours ago.

It��s almost been two years since I’ve seen him. That damn song is probably not even about me, but I’m not convinced. 

Earlier this evening is when I first heard it on the radio while I was driving to the store. “This is Corroded Coffin’s newest single Bed of Roses.” I can’t even remember where I was going, but I ended up back at home drunk on the floor.

I get up to rinse my face off with cold water before I hopefully fall asleep sooner rather than later. I look in the mirror just to not recognize the person I see. “Fuck you.” I turn out the lights and stumble my way into our bed. My bed, I mean. The darkness consumes me quickly as I lie there in dreamless sleep.

…

“Shit,” I say as I rub my head looking for my cigarettes and lighter. I slowly walk out of the room squinting as the sun is too bright and too loud. I walk out on the back porch and light my cig. I laugh to myself as I wonder why I still come outside to smoke. She’s not here to get onto me for smoking inside, and it’s my house anyway. As I finish up my cigarette, I see a woman I don’t remember walk outside and towards me in one of my shirts. 

“Morning,” she says as she smiles bashfully at me.

“Mornin,” I say as I smash the last of my cigarette under my house shoe as I go to walk back inside.

“Wait, where are you going?” she says as she catches up to me and wraps her arms around me and kisses my cheek.

“I got a lot of shit to get done in the studio today.”

“Oh, okay. Well, I guess I’ll see you later then?”

I clear my throat before turning back to her.

“No, probably not. I um have to leave town for a few days,” I say while scratching my head and avoiding eye contact.

She left within an hour, but I didn’t hear her leave.

My scuffed black leather duffle bag sits on my bed as I stuff it with a few more shirts. I should have stopped using this bag by now. It’s all fucked up with scratches, and I could by a hundred new ones if I wanted to. I grab ahold of the small tag around one of the straps. I run my thumb over the embossed leather and smile. 

To: Eddie

From: Birdy xx

She’s probably cursing me by now since the single released last night. I guess I better head to the studio, so I can get some work done before I catch my flight back to Indiana tonight.

…

“No, Nancy I’m fine,” I say as I walk into her office.

“I was just checking. You just seem a bit tired,” she says.

I ignore her words as I hand her a cup of coffee and take a seat on the green chair in front of her.

“I think I am going to leave town for a few weeks,” I say quickly. “I need to get some fresh air outside of Hawkins city limits.”

“Birdy, are you sure? You know Dustin’s graduation is this weekend,” she says knowingly.

“Yeah, I think he will forgive me if I give him a good graduation gift,” I say hopefully. She looks at me over the top of her newspaper. “I have to go anyway. Steve needs my help with organizing Dustin’s graduation party.”

I walk out into the parking lot and see my black 1969 Mustang. I get in and set my purse on the white leather passenger seat. I drive over to Family Video with the windows down listening to Wild Side just to spite him because I know how much he hates Tommy Lee.

I pull up outside, shut my door, and walk up on Robin and Steve talking at the counter. I briefly hear Eddie’s name before Robin elbows Steve in the ribs, and he quickly turns around running a hand through his hair. 

“Hey Birdy, I didn’t hear you come in,” he clears his throat.

“I just came in to discuss Dustin’s party details with you,” I say taking off my sunglasses.

“Right, uh do you want to come over later to talk about it?”

“Actually, right now is better because I’m leaving town today,” I say as confidently as I can.

Robin spits out her drink behind the counter in a fit of laughter. 

“Perfect timing Birdy, you must have heard the news already then,” she says as Steve tries to signal to her to be quiet.

“I didn’t. Do you care to enlighten me?” I say quizzically looking between the pair.

Steve takes a few seconds before speaking. He looks to be trying to carefully choose his next words.

“I was actually just telling Robin that uh Eddie will be staying with me this weekend since he’s coming in for Dustin’s graduation,” he stutters out nervously.

“I see,” it looks like I need to leave sooner then. “When is he supposed to get here?” I say leaning over the counter glaring at Steve.

“Well–you see, he’ll be here around ten o’clock,” Steve says looking to Robin for reassurance. She nods in agreement.

I look down at my watch “10:17 a.m.” 

“Please tell me you mean p.m. like tonight,” I say through gritted teeth.

“I really wish I could, Birdy,” Robin says, “But I can’t exactly do that.”

“Damn it,” I say just in time to hear the doorbell chime as someone walks in the store.

I don’t turn around. I’m pretty sure my waist is stuck to the counter.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he says wrapping his arm around my shoulders, “Harrington, Buckley.”

“Hargrove,” Steve says annoyedly. 

I nudge his arm and roll my eyes, but still sigh in relief. He moves his arm and winks at me.

“I just came by to return this,” he says sliding the tape across the counter.

Robin grabs the tape and walks to the other side of the counter and Billy follows.

I spend half an hour discussing party details with Steve, but most of the time he spends trying to convince me to stay in town because “this is an important moment in Dustin’s life” and “he really wants you there Birdy.”

I know it’s important and I do want to be there, but I don’t want to if he’s going to be there. I spend a few minutes thinking of how I can get myself out of this one without upsetting Dustin. Nothing comes to mind. 

“Steve, fine. I won’t leave. I cross my heart and hope to die and all that,” I say sarcastically. “I actually have to go anyway. I have to pick up Ozzy before noon, and I have to pick up lunch for Wayne and drop it off at the trailer.”

“Birdy, are you sure? I don’t mind running it over there on my lunch,” Steve says comfortingly.

“Yeah Harrington, he’s probably not even in town yet, and if he is I am going to have to face him sooner or later anyway,” I grumble.

…

I make right on time to pick up Ozzy. I give El an apologetic glance as she is waiting on me before leaving for her lunch break. 

“Thanks for waiting on me El,” I say as I take Ozzy from her. 

“No problem, Max is not here to pick me up yet,” she smiles.

The small black, white, and gray terrier in my arms licks my cheeks and barks excitedly. I rub his soft fur as I walk outside with him.

“Well don’t you look handsome, today?” I say in my baby voice.

Ozzy doesn’t care much and just jumps into the passenger seat to stand up to look out of the window. I laugh to myself as I drive to Benny’s to pick up Wayne’s lunch. I started taking him lunch on Friday’s since he’s retired after Eddie hit it big and paid off all of Wayne’s debt, which I’m glad for because Wayne deserves to spend the last of his years just relaxing.

I make the familiar drive through Forest Hills to the Munson’s trailer. I park in front and let Ozzy out and he runs around the front then follows me up the steps. I knock on the screen door.

“Just a second,” I hear Wayne say. “Good to see ya darlin’ how are ya today?”

“I’m doin’, okay,” as I say following him inside.

I sit the bag on the table and begin unpacking our burgers and fries. I take out two sodas from the fridge, and hand one to Wayne who has yet to sit down. I don’t say anything and go to sit down until I hear Ozzy start barking down the hall. Wayne gives me an apologetic look before I make sense of the situation. Ozzy stops barking. That’s when I hear it. That damn laugh. I move away from the table and to the front door.

“I-I will come back later to pick up Ozzy,” I say to Wayne with a shaking voice and my back to the front door.

Before I can turn to get the door open, Eddie comes into the living room carrying Ozzy and smiling. He looks up, makes eye contact with me, and clears his throat. I look at the floor.

“Uh hi Birdy, long time no see,” he says putting Ozzy down and slowly approaching me like I’m a scared animal about to take off. To be fair, he’s not wrong.

Before he can take another step, I turn around and burst through the door and jog to the door of my car, but before I can open it there’s a hand on the door. It’s definitely not mine. Those aren’t my rings.

“Shit,” I say to myself before slowly turning to face him and those pretty brown eyes.

“Birdy, please stay. I need to talk to you,” he says giving me puppy dog eyes that could put Ozzy to shame.

“Eds, I mean Eddie,” I say trying to back up, but my ass is already against the car. Eddie physically flinches as I correct myself. “I can’t do that. You know that” I say looking down at my shoes.

“Baby please, just for a few minutes,” I know you don’t really want to talk to me. I just need a few minutes and then you can leave.” 

Eddie scoots closer to me, trapping me between him and my car. I clear my throat and look him in the eyes. Anger quickly forms in me. Eddie starts to look worried. He should. Before he can say something else, I knee him in the crotch, and he falls backwards on the ground. I wince as I look at him in pain, but it quickly subsides as I remember what that prick did to me. I open the door then turn to him still groaning on the ground.

“Maybe you should have tried to talk before you stuck your dick in someone else,” I say glaring at him before I slam the door, start my engine, and speed off.

…

Wayne walks outside seeing Eddie on the ground still. Ozzy runs down the steps and goes right up to Eddie licking his face.

“You kinda’ deserved that one, son,” Wayne says looking down the trail of dust you left after driving off.

“I fucking know. I fucked up. I get it,” Eddie says, finally sitting up with a scowl on his face. 

Wayne sits on the steps and takes out a cigarette lighting it. Eddie gets up and walks over to sit next to Wayne. He takes out his own cigarette and lights it.

“Ya know Uncle Wayne,” Eddie says before blowing out some smoke. “I regret buying her that car since all she uses it for now is to run from me.”

Wayne stands up and opens the door. “Ya know that’s your fault boy. You can’t blame her for your stupid choices,” Wayne says before walking inside and letting the door slam.

Eddie puts his head in his hands. He sighs and looks up seeing Ozzy smelling something in the grass. “Ozzy, you can convince her to talk to me, right?” Ozzy walks over to Eddie and puts his front paws on Eddie’s knee. “Yeah buddy, you’ll help me convince Birdy,” he says petting the small dog. Ozzy excitedly tilts his head at the name of his owner. “Come on, let’s go inside,” Eddie says standing up and looking down the gravel path before whispering “fuck” under his breath and following Ozzy inside.

[askstevella]

Steve & The Body Pillow // Stevella Fic

- Steve Rogers x Wife!OC

As of late Stella has been obsessed with her new Instagram account since she started posting pictures on there. She wasn’t much of a social media person but currently posting on her story and sharing pictures has become her favorite thing after noticing a couple of their friends do it.

Meanwhile Steve is not.

He could care less about social media platforms. However, he does use them for plenty of reasons himself such as posting pictures of events he’s at, announcements about things like getting a dog or building something for himself and videos of his friends and family members.

Of course he found it nice that his wife wanted to showcase her life on the internet and know what others are up to.

He liked it and told her if he liked a photo or not in her comment section with a remark about it.

One day he decided to have a little fun with his wife’s new tendency toward her phone.

After a long day of working, taking Astro for a walk with the family and helping their friends with dinner, Stella wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with her husband.

As her head hit the pillow, she lets out a content sigh. She smiles to herself and cozies up under the blankets.

Steve joins her a few minutes later and so does an obnoxiously large pillow. Stella has seen a couple versions of that pillow being past around the gang plenty of times before. Steve insisted it could help with his sleep and seeing how popular it was with blogs posts he saw in the group chat with the heroes.

Mia got it for Rochelle who later on gave it to Liane then it pasted onto Rick and so forth. Soon enough everyone was using it to sleep!

It got to a point where they had to buy a couple hundred more of the damn pillow.

Here Stella was staring at the thing. She didn’t think it would end up taking up half of the bed and keeping Steve away from her. She’s been so used to cuddling Steve for years, and now that damn pillow was preventing her from getting close.

Steve rolled his eyes, “I swear you’re someone else sometimes.”

“This isn’t fair. I wanted cuddles with my hunk of a man after a long day!” She complains.

“And I want to be able to sleep without my back hurting but here we are.”

“I’ll give you a back massage.”

“No thanks.”

“I’ll be the big pillow you need instead of that thing.”

“Nope.”

She huffed with her arms cross, “How am I gonna get any sleep now?”

“Close your eyes and count some sheep.” Steve curls up around his body pillow, his eyes closing and a soft smile of contentment appearing over his face.

However she was still pouting.

“What now?” Steve asks, his eyes still shut and a heavy sigh leaving his lips.

“How do you do that?” She sits up and leans in to wave her hand in front of Steve’s face. “Do you have an extra pair of eyes?”

He chuckled, “Stop babe. I want some sleep.”

“I wanted to be your body pillow and have some cuddles. That’s all I ask..”

“Why? So you can post more about it? No thanks.”

Stella’s eyebrow furrowed a bit as she let that sink in and scoffed, “Oh! So that’s what this is all about? You brought that damn pillow out of spite.”

“I knew you would figure it out. Why are you being so annoying?” He said as he sassed her and shoot his eyes open.

“And why you being so mean?”

“What! I am not being mean.”

“Oh right, no, you’re being petty.”

“Babe.”

“…okay fine, I can be annoying.”

“Try a lot.”

“Okay, I’ve been very annoying lately with my posting phase. I’m sorry.”

“I just wish you wouldn’t document every single thing we do.”

“But you said that you found it nice and I can post stuff about our lives—”

“I know what I said! But sometimes I want you to put the phone down and focus on what’s happening in front of you instead of experiencing it all through the phone.”

Stella felt slightly uncomfortable by his words, she knew he was right, but she hated that he had to go out and say it like that. She huffed and pouted, crossing her arms.

“Don’t even give me that look.” Steve said.

“What look?” She replied.

“You know the look. Sorry, sweetheart, but it’s the truth. Let me ask you something.”

“Mhm..”

“Why are you here being obsessed with this?”

“Uh…I don’t know, I fell in love with sharing our stories instead of the press releasing stuff about our experiences..”

That caused Steve to paused and rested his head against the pillow to face her better. He knew Stella enjoy the game of social media but hated the press coverage with great passion, hell they were the ones who told the world about them and their relationship first. Not them!

She didn’t get a say in what happened or could be said. He didn’t like it either—he hated it, he wasn’t one to be the news outlets dancing monkey.

He then asked, “So your doing this, for fans, friends and whatnot could get to know us better..? Not to have pressure of the press on our backs..”

She just nodded and covered her face. She sniffled chuckling at how easy and silly it sounded, yet it looked like a whole bunch of other things.

“Babe, I get it.” Steve said after a brief silence before letting out a sigh, “But I do want you to experience things in the moment and not across a phone. Not post about every single thing, okay?”

“It’s getting kinda annoying, isn’t it?” She muttered.

“Yeah. It is. Next time tell me what you’re doing or what you’re going to post.”

“Why? So you can have a piece of all the action too?”

Steve nodded and smirked, “I mean, yeah! I want to have a say in this.”

“Fair, you should.” She replied chuckling a bit, “I will let you know what happens and you can have a say in all of it.”

“And I was always the better photographer anyway.”

“Hey!”

“Just stating the facts!”

Stella playfully glares at him meanwhile Steve just laughed and snorted.

“Can I have my husband please?” She pleaded chuckling.

“Let me think.” He stated and then smirked, “No.”

“Excuse me?! We made up, this is part where we get to kiss and cuddle.”

“You need a tiny punishment, for at least a little while longer.”

“Steve…”

“You’ll get your cuddles in the morning instead.”

“I—!”

He suddenly looped his finger underneath her chin and pressed a soft kiss against her lips. She made a soft noise at the action then smiled pressing a kiss in return.

//

And we’re done! ✔️ Let me know what you think 💭

Tags 🏷️ @rickb-chaos @purpleprincessonfyre @marvelsfavoriteuncle @therealdaydreamstark @ask-missparker @ask-starrk @askstevella @sci-fi-lexcon @luna-d-marsh @ethan-lensherr @wizzzardofoz z @thechoooooosenone @jackiequick @gcthvile @cherrysft @blueboirick @meiramel @elzabeth-stark @missstrawbs2001 @trulysummersprivate @yetanotherwells @gaminggirlsstuff @fluffystevefest

[orchidyoonkook]

Do you have any tips for new writers/accounts to get popular???

Hello!!!!!

SO:

I was a shit writer for a very long time cuz I never wrote. But one day I wanted to change that so at 19 I made up a story and wrote down all my plot points and then did a DEEP DIVE on Pinterest of all things collecting every bit of advice I could. I’m talking ideas, how to do this, how to not use the word said, how to start sentences. How sentences should flow and their lengths, big uncommon words. EVERYTHING.

Anything and everything I could get my hands on. 

And on top of that I’ve been a reader for forever. I have so many books I don’t even know how many I have. And so I use that knowledge when editing. I don’t read it from a writing POV after I write it. I turn into a reader and think about how I would feel about it from a readers POV and if something doesn’t work. I fix it.

I have a small background in script writing from my college days which definitely helped a bit. But if you’ve ever studied script writing you know it doesn’t really help creative writing outside of structure.

And when I write I’m someone who writes until I think the story is done. Not the arc. Not the characters. But the overall story of what I’m trying to portray. I don’t actively think about putting the climax of the story here or some foreshadowing there. I write intuitively if that makes sense. I try to sense out what feels right. And some of that comes naturally, some of it doesn’t and I have to work on it.

Me and @violetsiren90 were actually talking roughly about this last night. Our differences in how we write and how my advice from her last fic that I edited had already helped her with her new one cuz she can now see all of the little things that I pick up on from my style of writing versus the times where she tells me why she writes in that specific way and why she will be keeping it as is. Vi if you wanna add anything in the comments I’m forgetting, by all means feel free.

Most writers will tell you to practice. To tell you to write something even if it’s just a sentence everyday. But that didn’t help me. The stuff on my blog are the very first things I’ve written for myself ever. I didn’t write in highschool or college outside of what I was forced to write and my one story that the Pinterest board was initially for.

For me it was about researching style and reading posts like these from other writers, being confident in your style and learning what rules to break and when to break them. It was about reading over your work a hundred times and to be impartial when you read so you can fix the mistakes that won’t work.

The benefit of writing is you can go over something you’ve written a hundred times until you think it’s ready. A thousand times. I can go back and rewrite that first story if I want too. Nothing can stop me.

But don’t get me wrong. I go back and read all my works on here from time to time and I still constantly find things I would change now. Word changes. Phrasing changes. Everything. But that’s just another sign of improvement. Writing is a constantly improving art form. There is no limit. Only growth.

And the last thing I do is write down everything. I have a TERRIBLE memory. So I write down every single idea. On a scrap piece of paper. In my phone. On a computer. In a notebook. Cuz you never know when you’ll use it.

My most recent story, The Devil Wears Valentino, I got the idea for that name sometime in the immediate aftermath of Valentino Yoongi. I was in the shower after watching the devil wears Prada and my mind just connected the two. And then it sat unused in my notes all until the week before Halloween 2023. I would’ve forgotten had I not written it down. But there it was right when I needed it, a gift from past me. And here we are.

As for popularity, dude I have no goddamn idea. I don’t even think I count as a popular/big blog. I utilize the HELL out of aesthetics, formatting and tags and I’m nice. That’s my spiel on that. Aesthetic. Format. Tag. Kindness. Talent, sure. I guess. But writing is one of those things, ESPECIALLY in fic, where it doesn’t have to be the best cuz folks just wanna read their comfort character or person in the same scenarios over and over again. Source: I do that. And I’ve read stories that don’t have the best writing. But the story was good, or vice versa. People are way more forgiving on here.

I didn’t come on here(tumblr) with the intention of writing let alone giving writing and popularity advice. I just wanted to read and support people and then the community I’ve built for myself has just grown and grown and I’ve been so incredibly fortunate, which is where kindness comes in.

Leave reviews and like and reblog stuff. Tell people how much you love their work. Let them know you write too. Create friendships with people who wanna support you. And people who you wanna support. Community is the base of everything.