#but you know she's fully celebrating the wins anyway

[highlifeboat]

AND MECASSA…. over 6’ beefy shit brickhouse hockey and lacrosse player cass, missing tooth ovechkin charm, with a sharp chirping tongue. i just know mel is a puck bunny by proxy because of cass. i just know she watches her gf check and brutalize ppl on the ice/gym depending on what sport shes playing while she figuratively swims in her gf’s alternate colour jersey. cass thinks she’s adorable and taps the glass of the boards with her stick to say hi and mel has extreme gay heart attack when cass wipes her sweat/bloody nose from a fight with the hem of her jersey and shows her stomach.

I love this, because Mel is totally a puck bunny, and like... you know she only has kind of a loose understanding of either sport. She has a general idea of how they work, mainly from watching/Cassandra explaining, but sports just aren't a big thing for her. She does love seeing Cass have fun and fuck people up, though, which is mainly why she's there. (Big strong girlfriend make brain go brrr)

Melony has watched Cassandra body check women into the sides of a hockey rink and shove them onto gym floors and it has awoken many feelings. Plus she can't deny that smile (or that there's something insanely attractive about Cass being sweaty and breathing heavy but still giving that cocky grin and mouthing off after a fight.)

[hon3y-y]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ pov: hockeyplayer!suguru is your loving boyfriend<3

Inclusive to all fem readers<3 (no deep description of body type or skin color)

Enjoy<3

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who’s hair flows behind him while he skates on the ice, flashing you a bright smile as he skates past you to score. He immediately blows a kiss to you and goes to celebrate with his team. He’ll go skating to the benches and practically throws himself over, “you see me babe?” He calls up to you. You nod, blushing as his coach tells him to sit down and grumbles “keep your head in the game, suguru. We haven’t won yet…” he’ll blow a kiss to you before sitting down, pushing away his teasing teammates.

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who tells the opposing player standing next to him during the face-off, “by the way, I’m scoring off of this..” the guy looks confused and scoffs at your boyfriends cockiness, but ends up shocked when he does. Before he can fully process how fast suguru scored, he sees getou rush to where you are in the stands, calling out to his lucky charm.

I mean, he’s in front of his favorite person in the world? When is a better time to show off…

He’ll beg you to come to practices, showing you his smooth tricks and waiting for your approval every time. He absolutely loves praise and hearing you cheer for him, even during an empty practice? It scratches his brain in a way that pushes him to try harder, move faster, and win. He just loves to make you proud.

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who’s own team is freaking out when you said you might not be able to make the game. He’s sulking, and his teammates are all trying to make him feel better.

‘She’ll come, don’t worry!’

‘She’s probably on her way right now.’

‘Just breathe, bro…’ which only makes him grumpier

After confirming you won't be able to make it, he’s out of it the first two periods, allowing the team they’re against to get ahead three points. During intermission you call him, saying you heard they were behind and you’d be able to be there the last period. Somehow he miraculously is back on his game and they end up only losing by one point. You apologized for missing the first half to which he shushes you, “my lucky charm made us lose with dignity, baby. I’m just happy you’re here.” He says while wrapping you in his arms, smiling like he won the Stanley cup.

When he goes home with you for the holiday, he plays hockey with your cousins and lets them win(cause he’s so sweet T-T. Probably dramatically throws himself onto the floor when they score making them giggle every time. Anyway..) That is until your nosey and annoying next door neighbor starts making comments on his plays. He rolls his eyes, leaning on his stick while focusing on the way the neighbor leans into you or comments on how pretty you look and suddenly there’s a puck flying, nearly hitting the annoying man. He goes to where you two are wrapping a protective arm around you, he’s acting shocked too. The neighbors eyes wide in shock sputtering nonsense as you try not to laugh, “shit man, usually I don’t miss.”

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who runs out of the changing rooms as soon as he’s done and goes to meet you. His eyes sparkling, grin wide on his face as he moves his hockey gear to give you a bear hug. “How’d i do?” His voice is mumbled into your neck, tightening his arms and breathing in your comforting scent. You laugh at the ticklish feeling before facing him, “so good my love, couldn’t take my eyes off you~” making him blush.

Suguru is always worked up after a game, pulling you out to his car with a smirk on his lips. He’s staring down your shirt and smacks your ass when you pass him holding the door for you, “suguru! We’re in public—“ to which he just laughs and begins to tease you, “i thought you liked being watched? Didn’t have a problem when i made you cum on my fingers in front of satoru last week?” To which you gasp and immediately reach up to cover his filthy mouth. “I didn’t know he came in!” Your cheeks are flushed pink and you mumble a tiny ‘hmph’ before going to the passenger seat of the car.

You're confused when he doesn’t open it, turning to look at him and noticing his crossed arms. “That’s my job, princess.” And just like that, your putty for him again. You giggle and turn away as he strolls over only for you to stop him. “Open the back, gonna need it more…” you lean up to his ear and whisper making him bite his lip. “Anything for you, baby.”

NSFW below;

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who currently has you in his lap in the backseat of his car, his hands grabbing and caressing anything he can. He plays with your tits through your shirt, nipping at your lip and rolling his hips up to grind his aching cock into your covered pussy. “Mmh—take this off, please..” he’s pawing at your shirt, helping you remove the item before immediately pulling your bra down to stare at your pretty tits. He tugs and plays with your nipples, chuckling when you push his hands lower “guru, play with this instead~”

Clothes are thrown around the car, both of you guys impatiently wanting to feel each other. You climb on top of him again, feeling your mouth salivate at the sight of how large he is (never failing to impress you)

The feeling of his tip pushing into you makes you let out a sharp cry, the stretch painful without the prep but your dripping pussy helps glide him inside. Suguru reaches up to caress your soft cheek, kissing your watering eyes while whispering words of encouragement. “I know baby,” he leans his head against the headrest, trying not to cum just by the feeling of his head popping through your tiny, wet hole. “Slow baby, you can take it~” his hands rest on your hips, moving to play with your clit and try to help you adjust.

When you finally sink down onto him fully, he holds you still, closing his eyes and trying to not succumb to cumming right there. Your face is twisted up as his cock nestles against every nerve you have, panting at just how full he makes you. “Su-guru, ‘ure so big—nghh!” You moan when he rolls his hips up.

With your hands using his shoulders as leverage, you begin to ride him. Suguru is noisy, he doesn’t mind showing his lover how good he feels. And as he leans into your ear, telling you how good you’re doing, you can’t be more grateful it’s you he’s talking to

“Good job baby—oh fuck!—riding me so g-good.” He moves his hands to your ass, spanking it and watching the jiggle it makes before grabbing it for leverage. He’s also a little impatient so it’s not long until he fucks up into your pussy, making eye contact with you so he can watch the way you lose yourself in the pleasure. His cock hit your g-spot harshly, you clench tightly around him with your eyes rolling back. You moaned uncontrollably, any attempt to shush yourself stopped by suguru. “Move ur’ fucking—hands.”

Your tears egged him on, enjoying your choked sobs that echoed in the confined space. The car had fog on the windows, shaking lightly and if anyone of his teammates saw, it would be nearly impossible to argue what the two of you are doing.

He slows down, changing his rough pace to slow loving thrusts. He pulls you to him, kissing you passionately and enjoying the intimate moment while reaching down to thumb your clit. You gasp into the kiss, brows furrowing at the double stimulation. “Don’t s-stop!” You beg, messily kissing him letting out shakey breaths. Suguru playfully smiles while nodding, “i won’t baby, promise…”

He adjusts the two of you, laying you down and lifting your legs to your chest before pushing back into you. He groans, and grabs your jaw. “Open.” You do as you’re told and feel suguru spit into your mouth, picking up his pace after watching you swallow it without instruction. “Good—fuckin—girl.” He emphasized with every thrust, nearly hypnotized by how pretty you look.

You tighten around him when he leans down to suck on your harden nipple, bucking your hips to meet him halfway. You’re being fucked dumb, eyes rolling whenever he fucks you full, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge with every drag of his cock. Your voice pitches, “Gon-na cum!”

Suguru wraps his hand around your throat, “yeah? Not even asking? What a brat.” He scoffs. You try and speak, wanting to beg and be his good girl but you can’t. You can feel it building, unable to have any control. His eyes darken, “really? Still not gonna ask?” And you start crying. Your brain is fried, the need to please losing to your own selfish desire to cum.

“S-sor-ry!” You yelp as it snaps. you cum hard, your eyes squeezed tight as your back arches up and your whole body tightening. You're shaking, throwing your arms over your eyes as you curl into yourself as intense wave after wave courses through you. With ringing ears, you don’t know when you finally regain senses but the first thing you feel is Suguru's rough hands caressing your cheek.

Suguru has pulled out of you, “holy shit, looked so hot babe.” You laugh at the surprised look on his face. You look down and notice the wet spot on his seat and try to sit up, embarrassed. “Woah, take a second to breathe, mama.” He jokes while pushing you back down.

“Guru, I’m sorry. Ill clean—“ he cuts you off with an annoyed groan, playfully smacking your pussy making you gasp. “You should only apologize because I didn't get it on camera.” You look up at him and smirk, “you didn’t cum yet, think you can make me do it again?”

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru who does make you cream on his cock again but this time on video. The same video that, with your permission of course, he shows to his teammate satoru with an open invitation to join in on that nights after party

Hockeyplayer!bf! Suguru is just the best<3333

A/n: it’s finally done🙏 i have finals coming up so idk when imma write again💔

[sunrizef1]

Proper Scouser

pairing: Max verstappen x alexander-arnold!reader Trent Alexander Arnold x sister!reader

warnings: none, man united

authors note: guys I'm working on whiv I swear 😭 all the other chapters came out during break so I had time. But I already had this mostly finished and after that united loss I had to post it

————————————————————

y/narnold99

liked by trentarnold66 andyrobertson94 and 308,068 others

y/narnold99 7 reasons to smile 😁

load comments…

user1 I love her

user2 TAKE THAT UNITED

user3 up the reds

user4 UNITED IN THE MUD

user5 the caption… Trent’s sisters lowk class

user6 warra top 4 for Liverpool

user7 keep crying mate

trentarnold66 😁

user8 United fans crying in the comments

virgilvandijk was it entertaining? 😂

y/narnold99 🙏 very

user9 7up

user10 ❤️❤️❤️

user11 tell your brother to defend better

darwin_n9 VAMOS!!!

liked by y/narnold99

user12 Trent’s so fit man

user13 the scouser in our team

user14 ALLEZ ALLEZ ALLEZ

curtisjr 🔥🔥🔥

liked by y/narnold99

user15 I ❤️ y/n

user16 that’s embarrassing mate

—————————————

MESSAGES

y/narnold99 has added to their story

TWITTER

MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

y/narnold99 added to their story

trentarnold66 replied to your story

we win and you’re out celebrating without me???

fake 😒

y/narnold66

you’ll get over it mate

trentarnold66

so…

who is it?

y/narnold99

none of your business

trentarnold66

what

I’m gonna tell Virgil you’re being mean to me

y/narnold99

He’ll be on my side

go back to dating my friends without me knowing

trentarnold66

that was one time!

and she sucked so

you really should be thanking me for revealing that she was a terrible person 🤷‍♂️

y/narnold99

my dates calling me

bye loser

tell Curtis I said his goal was really good

trentarnold99

don’t call me a loser

———————

virgilvandijk replied to your story

Do I get to know about mystery man?

y/narnold99

Yeah sure

It’s max

Don’t tell Trent though

virgilvandijk

I won’t haha

Nice kid though

He’s got the Dutch approval

y/narnold99

Thanks virg

Nice win today btw

virgilvandijk

Thank you 🫡

Have a good date y/n

y/narnold99

🫡

———————

trentarnold66

you told Virgil but not me??!!

———————

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

y/narnold99

liked by maxverstappen1 judebellingham and 2,008,987 others

yourusername a proper scouser, he is

tagged: maxverstappen1

load comments…

user17 how… romantic?

user18 YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHH

user19 I am fully convinced that max has not understood a single word that y/n has ever said

virgilvandijk congratulations 🎉

liked by y/narnold99

user20 just imagine 3-time f1 world champion, max verstappen, navigating the city that is Liverpool

user21 they all live in Manchester anyway so he's probably fine

trentarnold66 WHY DOES THE INTERNET GET TO KNOW BEFORE ME

judebellingham a barca fan 🧐

y/narnold99 why do you know that

judebellingham dw about it

user22 MY PARENTS

landonorris damn how'd he pull you

maxverstappen1 ???

landonorris 👋

user23 I LOVE THEM SO MUCH YOU GUYS DONT GET IT

maxverstappen1 is the caption a compliment

y/narnold99 yes

user24 the way Trent had no idea is actually so funny

trentarnold66 happy for u ig

liked by y/narnold99

maxverstappen ❤️

y/narnold99 ❤️

—————————————

Tags: @casperlikej

[wcbblife]

IDEA…after this amazing most nastiest win, Kate smut but the hat stays ON (I just saw a comment about this and now I can’t stop thinking about it)

Winning looks sexy on you

Kate x fem!reader

Warning: smut (obvi)

Word count: 3k

Author's note: I like how you think, anon. I felt so ashamed of writing this lol 😭. Anyways enjoy!

As the final buzzer reverberated throughout the stadium, a wave of cheers erupts from the crowd, celebrating the historic moment unfolding before them. Amidst the celebration, you can't help but break into a wide grin as you catch sight of your girlfriend leaping with joy alongside her team, her loud screams filling the air. Despite Kate's attempts to locate you in the crowd, you know it's futile as you watch her scan the stands without success, even as you wave frantically. But in the middle of the celebration, you find some comfort in the fact that your time alone with Kate will come soon enough, even with the upcoming ceremony and press conference awaiting her. Both of you have chosen to keep your relationship private, away from the public eye amidst the overwhelming amount of attention surrounding Iowa in recent years.

So, after the teams exchange pleasantries, you plop yourself down on your seat and decide to just view the whole thing from up here.

It's a pretty sight, looking at your girlfriend radiating joy over the feat they've accomplished. She beams for the cameras circling them, proudly hoists the trophy up, sprawls on the floor, fully immersing herself in the moment before heading to the locker room. What truly seals the experience is the display of matching shirts and hats, a fitting tribute to reward their hard-earned victory.

And just like that, after signing countless autographs and talking to a few other people, Kate and the rest of the team finally makes their way towards the locker room and after a few minutes you decide to follow suit.

Navigating through the maze-like hallways, you find a quiet spot to wait, knowing only certain individuals can access the locker rooms and press area. You shoot Kate a quick text, letting her know where you are, and settle in for the wait. As you absentmindedly scroll through your phone, time slips away. You catch glimpses of game-related news but don't dwell on it, too focused on the text you've been anticipating. Finally, after what feels like ages, her message lights up your screen, and you eagerly tap on it.

“"I'm done, baby. Where are you?"

You swiftly type back, "Are you by the lockers? I'll head over."

Seconds later, three chat bubbles appear, signaling her response. "Yup. I'll be waiting."

With a quick nod, you pocket your phone and spring into action, navigating the confusing passages again, guided by the signs on the walls. Finally, you round a corner and there she is, Kate, waiting patiently for you.

As if on cue, she glances up from her phone, locking eyes with you. Her smile is practically immediate, and her legs carry her toward you.

“Hey, baby,” Kate murmurs, immediately leaning in for a sweet kiss. You reciprocate eagerly, the connection lingering for a moment before you both pull back to catch your breath.

Stepping back slightly, you examine her carefully. Her rosy cheeks, excited eyes, and wide grin captivate you. Your gaze wanders downwards, noticing her hands, still marked by the intensity of the game, and then her shirt, perfectly matching the hat atop her head.

“Gosh, you look sexy,” you grumble out, taking hold of her shirt and pulling her towards you, pressing your lips together for another searing kiss.

Kate freezes only for a second before you feel her smirk into the kiss and move her lips fervently against your own. You cradle her face, sensing the warmth still lingering from her game, and pull her even closer, melding your faces together.

What breaks you two apart is her panting into your mouth roughly.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for this, just not here,” Kate jokes, scanning both ends of the hallway. Once she sees it’s all clear, she steps up to you, stopping just mere inches away from your face. “Let’s go to the hotel room. You can do whatever you want to me there. How does that sound?”

You’re pretty sure you look pretty stupid looking up at her, mouth wide open, shocked at what the woman in front of you said.

“Whatever I want?” you repeat, already liking the idea. You try to keep your mind at bay, but it’s already too late.

Kate shrugs her shoulders, suddenly all cocky. “Maybe. Who knows? I might just change my mind.” She leans in to deliver the final blow. “Can you get there fast enough before I have a change of heart?” You feel her breath on the curve of your ear, sending a wave racking through your body almost violently.

“Sure can,” you swiftly respond, suddenly hyper-focused on one thing and one thing only. You take her hand, basically dragging her along with you while she giggles maniacally behind you.

Mission “Get Kate to the hotel room so you could fuck her” is a go.

______

It’s hard.

Driving your girlfriend to the hotel proves to be a pretty difficult task. Especially when all she does is tease you all the way. You swear you’re going to rip the steering wheel clean off if you squeeze it any harder than you already are.

“Kate, I swear to god. Stop,” you seethe towards her, trying to concentrate with all your might on the red light in front of you.

Your girlfriend, however, seems to have other plans in mind as she lets her hand on your thigh. She moves it up and down and then back up and keeps going in this motion. Every time you try peeling her away, she squeezes the skin there, hard.

As soon as it turns green, you slam on the accelerator, hearing Kate chuckle next to you.

She controls herself for the meantime, giving you a chance to navigate to the hotel parking lot without crashing your car into a nearby ditch. Wordlessly, you both step out of the car, with you starting to walk a bit later than her.

From the start, you both agreed this was the way to avoid any possible suspicions. It might seem silly, but you made it clear to Kate that you wanted to eliminate any chance of getting caught. Better safe than sorry, you told her.

Like clockwork, she walks in with you following a few feet back. She presses the elevator button, waits, and you join her as soon as it opens. You pray and pray that nobody enters with you two, and let out a loud sigh of relief once the doors close.

A beat. Two. Three.

“So what did you think about the game?” Kate asks, rather innocently.

You turn to her, brow raised in suspicion. Such a drastic change from just a few minutes ago makes your brain set off all kinds of alarms. However, you turn your eyes back to the red little numbers on the side of the elevator wall. “You all did great today. Seriously, you guys were crazy out there.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmh. You fell way too many times. I felt like jumping in whenever you got knocked down.”

“I agree.”

Ignoring the rather short responses, you immediately grab her hand and dart out of the elevator. You thank the universe for giving you the closest room there is, not sure if you could wait any longer. “Get in,” you command, and Kate follows swiftly.

It’s silly, really. How you thought it was all going to go your way. All hope is thrown out the window once you feel her body press you against the hotel door. It’s seriously surprising how easily Kate was able to dangle the bait in front of you and snatch it without much pity.

“Crazy how you think you’d be in control here,” she whispers, her lips hovering right above yours. “Y’know, I’ve been thrown around all game, but all I could think about when talking to all those people and cameras is how I would still come back here and make you beg.” Her eyes peek from under her cap, and gosh, as if she couldn't get any sexier.

“Kate, you deserve a little something for winning,” you try to negotiate, but it's cut short with her lightly bumping her hips against yours, causing the door behind you to rattle just a little.

It's clear she's too caught up in the feeling of winning for you to even think about anything else.

“Now, why don't we make this easier for the both of us. Bed's right back there,” she suggests, nodding towards the freshly made hotel bed.

You push her away teasingly, a giant smirk on your face. As if you would follow her instructions so easily. For now, though, you decide to go along.

Kate stays back, but you turn and drag her along with you by the collar of her new shirt. She offers little resistance, letting you lower yourself with her towards the bed. Then, she leans in, her mouth fitting onto yours in an instant.

The kiss is almost hurried, unlike the one you both shared in the stadium. Kate kisses you with a new hunger, as if you were going to disappear from underneath her. The intensity makes you squirm underneath her, seeking any type of contact to alleviate the pressure building between your legs.

You can't stop the moan that bubbles from the back of your throat. “Kate,” you whine in between kisses, but your girlfriend seems uninterested in stopping. She runs her tongue over your lower lips, then all but shoves it into your mouth, causing you to let out a strange strangled sound.

Kate straightens up suddenly, giving your poor brain a little time to gather itself. She takes off her hat and shirt, exposing her toned muscles underneath. This causes your breath to hitch because it doesn't matter how many times you've seen her, you still can't get over how hot her body is.

“Shit, baby,” you blurt out. “Keep it on.”

She furrows her eyebrows, waiting for a further explanation. “What?”

At least she has the decency to wait for you to stop panting. “Your hat. Put it on.”

Kate laughs, taking hold of the black cap with the Iowa logo on it. “What, does it turn you on?”

You enjoy it a little too much as you watch her face transform when you nod weakly. She does it anyway, a hidden smirk starting to form on her face.

“Thanks, baby,” you say as you stand up, pushing her down towards the bed. Without much resistance, she drops down and bounces slightly, watching your every move. You go over and straddle her hips, but she stops you, pushing your hips away. Before you can protest, she speaks up.

“Take your clothes off. Slow. I wanna watch you.” The tone in her voice tells you all you have to know. Kate's too lost in the sweet feeling of such a personal win. You've just happened to be on the receiving end of her.

Kate raises the visor of her cap to watch you better, leaning on the back of her palms as she positions herself into a more comfortable position. But let's be real, she takes her own chance at teasing you, basically manspreading in front of you.

Finally, you get to it, raising your shirt over your head and pulling down your pants, making sure to wiggle a little more than necessary.

“Y'know,” you start, bending down to make sure you give Kate a whole show, “I thought you'd let me have my way with you tonight. Had me all hopeful back there-”

The words die on your tongue as you turn around and are met with a towering Kate. She switches you around, practically throwing you onto the sheets. Quickly making work with her own clothes, she sheds them until she's only in her underwear. And the hat, of course.

You bite your lip. Her quietly following your request turns you on even more.

“You need to be quiet,” she murmurs, crawling towards you to seal your lips.

She doesn't linger there too long though. Kate's careful not to lose her cap as she makes her way slowly towards your neck. She presses wet kisses on your jaw then your neck, leaving a trail of saliva all over you.

“You have no idea,” Kate bites down on your neck hard, causing you to let out a grunt moan, “How long I've been waiting for this today.” She then licks the area, blowing on it gently. The cold feeling shoots a delicious feeling all through your body.

“Kate,” you moan.

“Crazy that I had to wait this long for my girlfriend,” she trails her hands down towards your chest, palming your chest rather harshly.

You hissed at this, immediately arching your back against her hands. She keeps this going, but after a bit, you start getting impatient. You hold her wrist, silently urging her to continue, worried that you might combust right then and there if you didn't get any sort of relief from the ever-mounting pressure inside of you.

“You’re so impatient,” Kate murmurs into your chest, leaving open-mouthed kisses on every single inch of skin she can find. It sends yet another delicious wave of pleasure throughout your whole body.

“Please,” you whine out shakily.

What your girlfriend does next nearly sends you over the edge. With slow and silent movements, her fingers trace one singular hard line across the damp area on your underwear. You two let out a moan almost in sync.

“Shit baby, this ain't even the best part and you're this wet already?”

It's a little bit too much for your poor soul. Kate pinning you down on the mattress, her naked body in all its glory in front of you, and of course, that damn hat.

You can't even answer, settling for a whiny groan.

She chuckles, slightly shaking her head.

“Fine, if you don't wanna answer me, I guess you won't have a problem keeping your mouth shut.” Before you can even react, she pulls your panties down, watching as a string of your fluids comes along with it. Her jaw slackens at the view of your shiny cunt.

You can only watch as your girlfriend reaches over. Your hips instinctively buck upwards as you bite your lips, trying to stifle the inevitable yelp threatening to escape. She traces her fingers up and down your folds, teasingly, her gaze locked onto yours with intense anticipation. Waiting.

As you glance down at her, she plunges a finger into you. Your body reacts with a primal moan, your shoulders tensing with the sudden sensation of her fingers stretching you without much warning.

But what truly catches you by surprise is Kate's other hand reaching for your face, her fingers firmly splayed over your jaw, forcing you to meet her gaze. “I told you to keep quiet if you can't answer a simple question, didn't I?” Her voice is a husky whisper, commanding yet seductive. She leans in, halting the movement of her fingers in you. “Now, if you use your words, I'll give you what you want.”

You pant, feeling too dizzy to even think straight. Kate maintains her hold on your chin, waiting for a response. Seemingly not satisfied with your silence, she pushes your head up and leans into your neck. “I'll have no problem leaving you here all high and dry. Heck, I'll get off in the shower without a single care in the world.”

“N-no, please,” you manage to half plead, half groan, “Please, fuck me.”

You won't lie, this is a certain rare side your girlfriend never showed to you during sex. But you aren't complaining. Not when you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter.

Kate gives you a cocky smile. “Good girl.” She continues her movements with her fingers, and the sensation builds up again, only this time it's at a faster rate than before.

Her hands flex with each movement, and Kate lets out the occasional moan. You try to see what she looks like, but the hat covers her face almost completely. Not that you're complaining, because winning sure looks sexy on your girlfriend.

Once she starts using her thumb to rub small circles around your clit, you're pretty sure you lose it completely. Your body jerks forward, and you dig your nails into her neck, surely leaving deep indents on her skin. Not that she minds anyway. Finally being able to see her face as she leans her head sideways, you see the absolute concentration on your girlfriend's face.

“Kate! I—fuck. I can't,” you whine desperately as you feel your stomach churn with an addictive feeling. You're sure it's right around the corner. “Kate, I'm—”

Kate leans in to kiss you, effectively silencing your words. Her lips move with a slow pace as her tongue pries itself into your mouth. You feel her let out a moan into your mouth.

“Shit, baby,” she growls in your ear, “you feel so good.” Feeling your walls clench around her finger, she decides to deliver one final blow by curling them, effectively putting the perfect amount of pressure on an area that sends you violently over the edge.

Your back arches into Kate's front, your mouth open in a silent scream. “Fuuuuck,” you moan out airily, clinging on to your girlfriend for dear life as she slows down her movements and helps you ride out your high.

It takes a few seconds for your soul to float back to earth and back into your body. But once you open your eyes, which you had screwed shut, you're met with your beautiful girlfriend smiling at you like a big idiot.

“Holy shit, Kate. You've got to win more often,” you say, still catching your breath. Kate's laugh grounds you for a moment. You take a moment to switch your positions, finally straddling her hips. “Seriously, what the hell happened to you?”

“Don't even think about it,” she says, shrugging and adjusting her black cap. “If anything, we're not even close to finishing here.”

You raise your brow in question, and Kate wastes no time, reaching over to pull you down by your neck.

“Why don't you be a good girl and eat me out? I think I've deserved it.”

The smirk that grows on your lips is almost evil as you gladly give Kate no resistance. You come face to face with her wet folds, and your lips lap around on her wet cunt, feeling as Kate’s waist stutters, pushing her pussy closer to your face.

“Oh…shit, keep doing that.”

You look up from in between her legs and wrap your arms around her thighs. Head thrown back, you can only see the visor of that damn hat popping over her chest. She looks so sexy like this. But unfortunately for Kate, this was payback.

It's going to be a long night.

[munson-blurbs]

eddie/wedding/tequila 🍻

Drunk Eddie is my favorite Eddie to write hehehe 💚

Warnings: alcohol consumption, Eddie is absolutely plastered, allusion to smut

WC: 989

Join my 2k followers celebration!

--

The band plays the final note of The Police’s “Every Little Thing She Does is Magic” and begins the opening chords of “Truly Madly Deeply.”

“Okay, let’s slow things down for all the lovebirds out there,” the lead singer croons into the mic. “Grab your sweetheart and bring ‘em onto the dance floor.”

You make your way over to your table and extend your hand. “May I have this dance?” you ask sweetly, frowning when the metalhead shakes his head. A lock of his curly brown hair comes loose from the bun at the nape of his neck. “Why not?”

“I’d love to,” Eddie slurs, taking another sip of his drink, “but ‘m married to the love of my life. I only wan’ dance with her.”

Stifling a giggle, you sit in the chair next to him and rub his back. “I know that. Because I’m your wife, Eddie.” You motion to the diamond on your ring finger and the silver band on his. “We’ve been married for two years.”

“No fuckin’ way!” he exclaims. “That’s awesome. ‘Cause you’re, like, s’fucking beautiful.” He gasps. “Holy shit, my wife is beautiful!”

The scent of tequila wafts from his breath, and you crinkle your nose. “Eds, how many shots did you and Robin do?”

Eddie whines and throws his head back. “Don’t make me do math at a party!” He rests his head on your shoulder and grabs your hand, placing it atop his scalp. “Can you give me scratches?”

You oblige, kissing just above his ear. “C’mon, puppy dog,” you tease. “Let’s get you back to the hotel room.” Starting to help him up, you spot Steve making his rounds, bow tie undone and face flushed from dancing. You send up a silent prayer that Eddie won’t attract his attention, but it must get intercepted. 

“Harrington!” your husband calls out. Multiple guests turn to face you; it is a Harrington wedding, afterall. “Get over here, big boy!” He stumbles towards the groom and claps a ringed hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey, buddy,” Steve says with a chuckle. “Y’havin’ a good time?”

“The best.” Eddie is fully leaning on his friend now, and you mouth Sorry in Steve’s direction. “Dude, my wife is so hot.”

You bury your head in your hands; your cheeks are burning with embarrassment. “Let’s go, Eddie,” you insist, grateful that Steve appears unfazed by the comment. 

“Stevie, you ever been in love?” Eddie asks, suddenly serious. His eyes are glassy and half-lidded; it’s only a matter of time before he falls asleep. 

Steve looks around at the hotel ballroom, eyebrows raised. “Uh, yeah. I just got married, like, three hours ago. You were a groomsman.”

“Shit, yeah!” Eddie sounds as though he’s receiving brand-new information. “Congrats, man. Anyway,” he presses on, ignoring you tugging on his sleeve, “I jus’ want you to know that I, Eddie Munson, am also in love. With this girl right here.” He flails his free arm around until he finds your waist and pulls you into him. 

“Well, I’m, uh, happy to hear that,” Steve manages, and you shoot him another apologetic glance before dragging Eddie to the elevator and into the hotel room. You can’t turn the key fast enough. 

Eddie flops onto the bed, still fully dressed in his tuxedo and shoes. You take a moment to appreciate the silence before he pipes up:

“We gotta beat Steve.”

Despite your better judgment, you respond with an incredulous, “what?”

“We gotta beat Steve,” Eddie repeats. “We got married, but now he’s married, too. So we’re not winning anymore.” He pouts for a millisecond before sitting up suddenly, steadying himself on the sheets. “We should have a baby!”

You burst out laughing. “Babe, I love you. But I am not bringing new life into this world just so you can win some imaginary competition against Steve.”

“Fine,” Eddie slumps down, defeated. 

You figure that will be the end of the discussion, but you should know better at this point. You’re rifling through your suitcase for a pair of pajamas when you hear the mini fridge door open. 

“What are you doing now?” you hiss. 

“‘M wooing you so you’ll have my baby,” he hiccups, pulling out a small bottle of Patrón and unscrewing the cap. “I call this one the ‘wraparound.’” Eddie proceeds to drag the bottle around his head, spilling tequila everywhere. “Oopsie daisy!” He cackles like it’s the funniest thing in the world. 

You pluck the half-empty bottle from his grasp and set it on the nightstand. “Eddie, get out of those clothes and Go. To. Bed.” you say through gritted teeth. 

Eddie snorts. “If you wanna see me naked, you gotta take me out to dinner first.” But he obliges, sleeping as soon as his head hits the pillow.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you snuggle in next to him. He rarely drinks beyond an occasional post-work beer, so you’re glad he let loose tonight. You just wish you didn’t have to babysit him. 

Eddie stirs, wrapping a tattooed arm around your waist. “My sexy lil’ wife,” he mumbles. “Prettiest girl ‘ve ever seen.” He nestles into the crook of your neck. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too, Eds,” you tell him, brushing the stray hair from his face and kissing his forehead. “Get some rest, okay?”

“Mhm,” he hums. “Big day tomorrow. Gotta make a baby so we can beat Harrington.”

“Yeah, okay,” you reply tersely, rolling your eyes. 

But the next morning, after a cup of black coffee and two Advil, Eddie’s ushering you back into bed. 

“I was serious about that baby, sweetheart,” he muses. “And not because of a contest with Steve.” 

You smile, bringing your lips to his soft, plush ones. “Really?”

“Really,” he affirms, climbing on top of you and peppering your face with kisses. “But if there was a contest, we would totally be the superior couple.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

--

[crustyfloor]

FUCK THEM UPPPPPPP TILL OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDD

The visuals of Till's splash art (in my humble opinion, the best one so far) is STUNNING. AND very interesting.

For Till specifically to cover All-In is an interesting message to give off, All-In is a song about freedom. A type of freedom that allows you to live confidently and freely, creating whatever type of world you want, the stage is yours, so make what you want of it. living confidently in YOUR OWN SKIN. And living freely "cause you only got one life to live"

Freedom is something Till fights for relentlessly, and confidence is a bravado, as by far the most uncontrolled and tested person in the cast, he still fights for his boundaries and self-expression even when he's punished, molded into something he's not, or beaten into obedience, tested far past the limit; he never loses his bite. A wild dog can never be tamed.

This is the cover that follows what becomes of Till after round 6, and still, in Till's all-in, he sounds so raw, pained, energized, and passionate desperation is evident. It's a contrast from HyunA's celebratory cheers and upbeat mood because Till isn't celebrating the idea of freedom; he's angrily proving to everyone, especially the aliens, that he isn't backing down yet and he'll still keep fighting and that he can fight for his own freedom.

Till's cover of All-in is truly the most powerful depiction of Till's fighting spirit, after everything he's gone through, the pain, the grief. It's all in his voice and the way he sings he's pained the entire time he sings and he's aggressive because the fire of his spirit is lit once again. He's going "all-in" so to speak and expressing himself.

The tape around his neck--

It's a contrast to HyunA who doesn't mind showing her brand, even proudly showing it off as a form of reclaiming her individualism.

Till is different. Because being reminded that he is and was once a pet is not something he would want to remember about himself, he will always bitterly try to distance himself from that fact in any way he can, HyunA feels free from the system when she can own it, but when Till sees his branding, he'll still always feel that collar. It's a testament to his self-deprecation, as long as the evidence of his past is present, and he still feels all the pain the aliens inflicted on him, It'd be presumptuous to think he'd ever feel like he can relate and fit in with the other "fools" who are so free.

It'd be presumptuous to think he'd ever feel free. That's what the aliens wanted, right?

Another interesting part of this is that the name 'All-in" is actually a real-life poker reference, to go "all-in" in poker is to voluntarily bet all of your remaining chips, there is nothing else you can do but hope for the best after that point (and hope you win).

When HyunA sings All-in, she deceives you into thinking she has the upper hand or good hand, and that she will win. When Till sings it, he's giving it all away recklessly, he's showing all he has. Basically, him saying fuck it. he doesn't know if he'll win or not but says, "Let's go all-in and risk it all anyways" Even if internally he knows that this is stupid and risky, this is his foolish rebellion.

At this point he has nothing to lose and nothing to gain, it's his final stand as he lets his heart out not for the crowd, but for the family he lost, himself, a form of self-expression. He will be so nervous, so aggrieved but it's the freest he will ever feel on that stage.

The color symbolism also drives me CRAZY.

For his other two splash art, he's been represented with a color close enough to teal. In both songs, he's open when he sings and fully serene. Teal is a generally calming color, and it's not too evocative. It's more emotional (and has it's own reservations)

And then, we have green, which is a general symbol of growth, new beginnings, and freshness. After all, Till has been through all-in is a sign of his growth. And a new era of his life, or in other words a sudden tonal shift from his depressive state in round 6.

And for my favorite (it's not.) part! the head shot, (interesting how his has nearly the biggest impact out of them all.)

A bit of a theory.

It's a bit similar to one particular art of him, he has a little shape that's almost akin to impact from a gunshot near the same area.

So, I think this is tell-tale symbolism for a future injury, but the gun portrayed is a bubble gun. I believe it is symbolism for the wound being non-fatal, so even if Till loses and gets shot, he'll survive, fundamentally changed. and will probably join the rebellion, too.

/side note

The heartbeats in Till's version of all-in are faster and louder than HyunA's version, similar to CURE.

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Congrats on 300 folower 🎉🎉🎉 can I request caramel lily it's totally ok if you can't lol btw love the way you write

Thanks so much for the req! This is SO much plot with a bit of porn, I'm not sure what got into me here! Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Sanji x Afab!Reader

WC: 2100 LOL

Prompt: “I’d eat 10 devil fruits if it meant I could see you naked.” 

— — 

It was Robin’s birthday, so you and the rest of the Straw Hats were enjoying an evening of drinking and celebrating. Empty bottles littered the dining room table and your captain was asleep and snoring on the deck, distended belly evident of his overindulgence. A few of your crew mates had returned to their quarters, the hour having grown late. You sat at the wooden table with Nami, Zoro, Franky and Robin playing cards while Sanji finished up dishes at the sink. You were all a bit tipsy, some more than others *cough* Zoro *cough* but it was clear the party was winding down. 

“I’m not tired yet. What if we made this game more interesting?” Robin made a suggestion and set her hand of cards down on the table. 

“*yawn* like a drinking game? I’m in.” Zoro takes another swig from his bottle of sake. 

“How about we put real money on the table? I know I’d kick your asses if there was actually something at stake.” Nami suggests. 

“I was actually thinking we could play strip poker.” Robin smirks as she makes the lewd proposal. 

*WOOOSH* 

In what seemed like the blink of an eye, Sanji was somehow squeezed in between Nami and Robin on the dining room bench when he was all the way across the room at the sink not a second ago. 

“What an incredible idea, Robin! And it is your birthday after all, so we should all do whatever Robin suggests!” Sanji hurriedly spits out with hearts in his eyes, seemingly out of breath from rushing over. 

“Absolutely not. If you think for a second that I’m going to-“ Nami protests. 

“Sure, I’m in.” Zoro interrupts her. 

“Yeah I’m down I guess.” You chime in, wanting to keep the party going. You had known these people for years now, they were your best friends. Everyone has a body, who cares if they see you naked? What’s the worst that could happen. 

“Aww come on, bros! That’s like super unfair! I’ll obviously lose first! This game is rigged!” Franky exclaims while gesturing to his lack of clothing. 

“Rigged against who? Perverts?” Zoro cocks his head and smirks. 

“Whatever, I’m out. I have maintenance to do on the engine anyway.” Franky excuses himself and heads down into the belly of the ship to finish his tasks. 

“Come on, Nami. We can still put real money on it. Well… most of us could, anyway…” Robin smirks as she looks at Zoro hunched over his drink at the other end of the table. “Hey! I have… some.. cash.. somewhere…” Zoro looks in his pockets and inside his sash trying to find some semblance of money. 

Nami sighed. She pulls a small stack of berries out of her pocket and puts it on the table in front of Zoro. 

“I’ll add this to your tab. I’m going to bed, goodnight guys.” She turns back to Zoro. “Don’t lose it all at once, idiot.” 

After Nami exits, the four of you that remained settled your first bets and started the first round of cards. 

Much to Sanji’s dismay, he lost the first three hands and has already removed his tie, sport coat and belt while the two beautiful women before him were still fully clothed. Zoro lost the next few, casually shedding his shirt and boots. Eventually, after many more hands of cards and many more bottles of booze, the four of you are all minimally clothed. Robin was winning, still in her bra and skirt. You were sat in your bra and panties, happy that you chose a nicer looking pair to wear today. The boys were both left in their pants. 

“Alright, guesshh I’m out…” a very drunk Zoro sighs out as he puts his losing hand down on the table. Wordlessly he stands up and pulls his pants down to his ankles. 

“OH MY GOD MY EYES-“ Sanji throws his head down on the table to shield himself from the now fully nude swordsman. “ROBIN? Y/N? AM I BLIND?” Sanji continues to scream towards the floor.

“WHY don’t you wear underwear! That’s gross! I do our laundry!” You exclaim with wide eyes. 

“Hmm.” Robin hums. “Carpet does match the drapes.” She raises an eyebrow.

“Screw you guyshhh… I.. I’m going to… to lie downshh…” Zoro stumbles fully naked out of the dining room. 

“I’m going to make sure he makes it back to his room…” Robin stands up and dresses herself. Hands sprout from the floor and gather Zoro’s shed clothing and neatly folds it into a pile. Robin grabs the pile and heads towards the door. “… and make sure he doesn’t permanently traumatize Chopper in the process.” 

The door slammed closed and you and Sanji were left alone at opposite sides of the table. 

Sanji cleared his throat. 

“Shall we play on, angel?” 

You roll your eyes. You were up tons of berries, there was no reason for you to keep playing, but something urged you to keep going. 

“Bring it on, Mr. Cook.” You give him a wink and you could swear your saw a drop of blood spill from his nose. 

Perhaps distracted by your tipsy flirting, Sanji loses the next hand and stands up from the table to remove his slacks. He returns to his seat quickly but not quick enough for the large bulge in his briefs to go unnoticed. You smirk. You spot his hands trembling as Sanji pushes his money into the center of the table for the next hand. 

“Wow, Sanji, that’s the last of your berries! What if you lose? How are you going to afford cigarettes this week? It’s worth that much to you?” You laugh and take a sip of your drink. 

“It’s not the money, angel.” Sanji looks across the table at you with sparkling eyes. “I’d pay any cost. I’d eat 10 devil fruits if it meant I could see you naked.” You couldn’t help but smile at his desperation. 

“Well…” You say teasingly. “Let’s play then.” 

Your confidence betrays you. You lose the hand. 

“Shit!” You throw your losing hand on the table. You rub your eyes with your hand, realizing that you have very little left to remove. The air in the room is different from before. Earlier it had been four crew mates laughing and goofing around, now the air was heavy with tension. It was just you and Sanji, sitting across from each other in your underwear. He was handsome and you found yourself admiring his lithe, slim body. You couldn’t help yourself from becoming aroused. 

“Well, fair is fair.” You push the money back towards Sanji and move your hand behind your back to unhook your bra. Your other arm held the cups of your bra in place over your chest as you undid the clasp. You look across the table at Sanji and his mouth was hanging open in anticipation. You aren’t sure why, but you decide to tease him a bit. You use your arm holding your breasts to push them up and together before you let them fall out of your bra, bouncing dramatically. 

“Merde, y/n…” Sanji couldn’t pry his gaze from your bare tits. 

“We still have one more round to play, don’t we?” You pick up a new hand of cards and hold it with both hands. Doing this, you push your naked breasts together with your elbows, teasing the poor cook further. 

“I… Y-yes…” Sanji grabs another hand while shaking himself out of his stupor. 

You had four of a kind, there was no way you could lose. You were going to make off with all the money and Sanji’s dignity. 

“Royal Flush.” 

“What?!” You balk at the cards Sanji had laid on the table. It was his turn to lean back in his seat and smirk. You were speechless. You stared blankly at the table for a few moments before you slide out from your seat on the bench. Sanji watched you intently. 

You turn around so that your back is towards him. You hook both of your thumbs into the sides of your light pink panties. You bent forward at the hip, poking your ass closer to Sanji’s face. You slowly, dramatically peel your panties down your bottom, revealing your supple skin inch by inch. Sanji groans as your glistening cunt is revealed to him. You straighten your back and step out of your panties. You turn around. 

“Well, Sanji. Looks like you won. I guess you could take the money…” You slink towards him and swiftly hop onto his lap, straddling his trapped erection. You place both your hands on the side of his face to make him look up at you. You gently grind your bare pussy onto his throbbing crotch. 

“Or you could have me…” You purr at him, lips almost touching. 

Sanji takes no time to weigh his options before slamming his mouth onto yours. His hands fly into your hair, trying to force your lips impossibly closer to his. His tongue forces its needy way into your mouth. You kiss wildly for several minutes before you snake your hand down Sanji’s slender torso and lift your pelvis up so you can free his aching cock from its confines in his silk briefs. You give his member a few slow strokes before Sanji whimpers into your mouth desperately. 

“Mmm… Y/n.. please…” Sanji mutters. 

You pull away and kiss down his neck. 

“Please what, Mr. Cook? I can’t quite understand…” You seductively whisper out. You lick and suck his collarbone as you continue to pump his cock. 

“Need you…” Sanji is panting like he ran a marathon, he can’t handle your teasing anymore.

“Need me what, Sanji? Come on… tell me what you need…” You bring your hand that isn’t wrapped around his member up to his chest to tweak and squeeze at his nipple. Sanji lets out a high pitched moan. 

“Need to be inside you, please angel, let me feel you…” Sanji grips your hips suddenly and firmly. He could barely form a coherent sentence. You giggled. 

“Hm…. Fair is fair…” You smiled as you lifted your pelvis and aligned Sanji’s cock up with your hole before slowly sinking down him. The stretch overwhelmed you at first as you moved your hands up to grip at his shoulders tightly. 

“Shit, angel… so tight and wet…” Sanji buries his face in your breasts as you adjust your body to his length. 

“Fuck…” You moan softly as you begin to bounce softly on Sanji’s cock. He was thicker than expected, and the anticipation had your body alight with sensation. 

“Does it feel nice, my love? Is my cock good for you? Please tell me…” Sanji breaths out as you use him for your pleasure, trying to contain his own release. 

“Mmmh…” You let out a moan as you switch from bouncing to grinding yourself onto the blonde’s slim hips. “You feel so good inside me, baby… you’re doing so good for me…” You rub your clit into the base of his shaft as Sanji hits that sweet spot inside of you. You bring your gaze to look into his eyes. Those gorgeous ice-blue eyes stared up at you with what could only be described as adoration and amazement. You saw tears well in his glazed eyes, he was clearly so lost inside the pleasure that was your warm cunt. 

“So good…” You continued to praise him. “Gonna cum…” You throw your head back and grip Sanji’s shoulders tighter. 

“Please cum on me, angel, want to feel your pussy when you cum, please…” You hear Sanji’s muttering but you were too focused on reaching your peak. 

You shriek out a loud moan as your orgasm rolls through your body. You fall forward into Sanji’s neck and stop your movements as the spasms slow down. Sanji picks up the slack and pumps his hips upwards into yours, finally able to let go. 

“Fuck, love, I’m cumming!” Sanji slams your hips down onto his and works his load deep into your cunt with a loud groan. 

After you both catch your breath from the intense love-making session you had just experienced in the dining room, you slide yourself off of Sanji’s cock and sit onto the seat next to him. You put your head on his shoulder, feeling exhausted. 

Sanji reached for his pack of cigarettes, desperately needing one after his climax. He finds the pack empty. He looks at all the money that is now rightfully yours on the table. 

“So…. I might need to borrow a little cash this week…” 

[serpenera]

One of the things that most irks me in the HP, and especially Snape discourse, is the misinterpretation of the meaning of the patronus. The general consensus seems to be that the shape of the patronus indicates one’s true love but that is a massive oversimplification that creates numerous inconsistencies. In other words, when we look at it like that, the patronus makes NO SENSE. Except the patronus makes PERFECT SENSE. Just let me explain.

The patronus, as we know, is a charm that repels Dementors - an anthropomorphized representation of clinical depression. Keep that in mind as this is important. You conjure it by focusing on a happy memory or should I rather say a happy thought.

Memory is the word Lupin uses when he first explains the patronus to Harry and I’d argue this is the reason why Harry initially fails at conjuring one. He remembers his first time on a broom and winning the house cup. Both happy memories to doubt but “not powerful enough” as Lupin puts it. So what makes a powerful memory?

Harry tries again and succeeds by focusing on the memory of finding out he was a wizard and would be leaving the Dursleys and going to Hogwarts. What makes this memory different than the other two is that it wasn’t just that of a fleeting moment of glee but of an event that marked a major change in Harry’s life, a change for the better. Yes, it was a moment from the PAST but one that influenced Harry’s PRESENT and FUTURE.

See, this is the key to understanding the patronus. The trick is not to remember a happy past long gone, it’s to find something in the past that gives you a reason to move forward. Anyone, who’s ever been depressed to the point of wanting to off themselves will know what I’m talking about here. And those who don’t, good for you.

Anyway, back to Harry. When he conjures his first fully corporeal patronus at the end of PoA, he thinks of going to live with Sirius. And when he uses the spell again in GoF he thinks of celebrating the end of the Tournament with Ron and Hermione. In both cases, he doesn’t even recall an event of the past but projects into the future. And note that regardless of whom or what he thinks of (and not once does he think of his dad), his patronus stays a stag. Even after his love and admiration for James falters due to the discovery of SWM, his patronus stays a stag. This is because the stag, while visually traceable back to James, does not represent James as a person but rather a concept that James himself is a representation of. The stag stands for family, legacy, and a sense of belonging. What keeps Harry moving forward despite all the obstacles is not the mere memory of having had a dad once, it’s the realization that he’s not alone in the world, that he has friends who care about him, and that he’s part of a community.

If we look at the patronus through this lens we can logically explain the shape and origin of all the major ones present in the books.

Snape is often accused of being a stalker incel and whatnot because (apparently) his doe patronus is the same as Lily’s.

First of all, did you pull that information out of your ass? ‘Cause I checked and nowhere in the book(s) does it say what shape her patronus was. The same goes for James. He was a stag animagus. We don’t know what shape his patronus was. That, assuming they both even knew the charm. Although, as Order members, they probably did. If they hadn’t learned it at school, Dumbledore or another Order member would’ve taught them.

Okay, for the sake of this argument, let’s assume that James’ patronus was in fact a stag and Lily’s was a doe and also that the animals represent them respectively. People will argue that the fact the patronuses match (they don’t actually cause they’re two different species of deer but never mind) implies they were each other’s soulmates. To back that argument they will cite Tonks’ patronus which changed into a wolf after she fell in love with Lupin. At the same time, they will argue that Snape’s doe indicates an unhealthy obsession with Lily. Can you spot the issue with this reasoning?

Snape’s and Tonks’ cases are analog: their patronuses turn into animals related to the other person. And yet in Snape’s case, it’s obsession, and in Tonks’, it’s love?

Lily/James and Tonks’ cases are opposite: Lily/James patronuses turn into animals related to themselves while Tonks’ turns into one related to her love interest. But in both cases, it’s true love?

If Snape’s obsessed with Lily then Tonks is obsessed with Lupin and Lily and James are just obsessed with themselves. Contrarily, if Tonks loves Lupin then Snape loves Lily, and Lily and James, again, just love themselves respectively. Moreover, if you follow either logic, Harry is obsessed / in love with James and Dumbledore with Fawkes.

See how none of that makes ANY SENSE whatsoever? Also, no, it’s not a plothole. Y’all are just looking at it wrong. Now let’s rewind and analyze all of these the same way we did with Harry’s at the beginning of this rant.

James’ case is very straightforward. Similarly to Harry, James finds meaning in the traditional idea of family, clan legacy, and belonging. Remember how on the train to Hogwarts he says he wants to be a Gryffindor just like his dad? That, in my opinion, is already very telling, and considering that right after school James marries the girl he decided would be the future mother of his children and promptly gets her pregnant we can easily deduce what he values and what he believes his higher purpose to be. When facing a Dementor and being consumed by despair, perhaps remembering the loss of his parents and perceived betrayal of his best friends, in order to push through he certainly focuses on his wife and especially his son.

Lily’s doe patronus has nothing to do with Snape. Or with James for that matter. Instead, it has everything to do with Harry. See, many real-life women who find themselves at the edge of despair for one reason or another declare they only push forward because of their children. I think Lily is no different. I mean, she did die trying to protect her child. So I think that facing a Dementor, she thinks of Harry. Her wish to be there for her son and protect him is what keeps her going forward despite everything. She has to be strong because she is needed and that is what her doe stands for.

The doe and the stag, somewhat complementary animals, both symbolize family-related but very different concepts. The stag carries a distinctly masculine meaning, that of the passing of legacy and prolonging the bloodline. The doe has a more feminine feel, that of nurturing and protecting.

Snape’s patronus is the same animal as Lily not because he loves her or is obsessed or even just friends with her. It’s the same because both these characters find purpose in the same thing: being needed.

While for Lily this mindset seems to stem from her motherhood, for Snape it seems to have always been there and for very a different reason. The severe neglect he experienced in his early childhood conditioned him to always seek external validation. It’s as if he couldn’t find value in himself unless someone else found it in him. This is why he was trying so hard to be useful to Lily when they first became friends. This is why he got himself groomed by the Death Eaters. This is also why he was so easily manipulated by Dumbledore.

Speaking of Dumbledore, he has to have taught Snape the patronus charm and it must have happened sometime between his defection and the Potters’ death. Now imagine what that might have looked like.

Dumbledore explains how the patronus works. Snape tries, recalling one of his happy childhood moments with Lily, and fails. He chooses another memory and fails again. Dumbledore tells him it has to be something really powerful. Snape is out of ideas, the only happy memories he has are of his childhood friendship with Lily but that friendship is over, it has been for a while, she’s married to his bully and having his child, and on top of that, she’s being targeted by Voldemort and it’s all his fault. Reminiscing their past together is nowhere near enough to fuel the patronus. Then Snape projects into the future in which thanks to him, Lily is safe, she forgives him for his past mistakes and they make up. This time he successfully conjures his trademark doe.

I imagine that, after Lily died, Snape would have had trouble producing a patronus. That would be until Dumbledore pointed out how even in death she still needed him to protect her child. He would then focus on a future in which Voldemort is defeated, Harry is safe, his debt with Lily is paid and his sins are redeemed.

Dumbledore knows that Snape’s doe patronus is related to Lily but it’s probably because he taught him the charm himself and in doing so he learned that it was thoughts and memories of her that fueled it. Not because it was (presumably, mind you) the same shape as hers.

That said, I’m firmly convinced that if Snape had survived the war he would again have had trouble producing a proper patronus, not because of any change in his feelings towards Lily but rather because with Harry safe and Voldemort gone, he’d find himself lacking a purpose. If, for example, he got himself involved with someone else, someone who would make him feel needed, he might be able to produce a patronus again but it would most certainly remain a doe.

Tonks’ patronus is an interesting one because it actually changes its shape in the course of the narrative. We know it became a wolf after Tonks fell in love with and started dating Lupin.

Yes, it’d be easy to assume that the wolf represents the character whose name is literally Wolfy McWolf and who’s also a werewolf but that would be both shallow and inaccurate.

Tonks’ wolf, not unlike Lily and James’ stag and dear, is symbolically tied to the concept of family and friendship. We don’t know what drove Tonks forward before she became involved with Lupin but we can easily deduce that what drives her afterward is the thought of being with him. When she conjures her patronus, she probably thinks of a future in which they have a proper relationship or perhaps start a family. When Snape makes a dab at her patronus he isn’t just being mean. Knowing Lupin, he probably expects him not to take responsibility for his actions towards Tonks and wiggle out of the relationship the moment things get a little bit too serious for his liking. In saying her patronus is weak he’s trying to warn her not to put her faith in Lupin.

In the end, I’d like to mention Dumbledore’s patronus. Just like a phoenix is reborn from its ashes, Dumbledore rises up from the pit of his troubled youth. When in the vicinity of a Dementor, he must be plagued by thoughts of his misplaced aspirations, of Ariana’s death, and his fall out with Grindelwald. The thought I believe he focuses on in those moments is that of having rehabilitated himself in the eyes of society, and having ultimately become a champion of the light.

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

Inhibitions? What Are Those?

Jacob Palmer (Crazy, Stupid, Love) x EnglishTeacher!Reader

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters except for the reader insert and Lara!

Author’s Notes: Icon credit goes to @hollandsbabygirl !! She’s so talented!!

I have to admit, this fic is kinda dumb. But also kinda endearing? I dunno, you’ll see for yourself. It starts off as a fully formed idea and then I don’t really know what happened, but I had to get it out so here we are. It’s a fluffy sort of thing, hopefully enjoyable!

Anyway, as per usual, I love seeing your notes- they make my day!

Content/Content Warnings: minors dni! It’s not spicy, but we’ve got a good dose of suggestive themes.

You know, tonight was supposed to be something simple, nothing too crazy. A little celebration for finishing out the school year with Lara, my coworker.

And yet, I find myself sitting alone at the bar at ten-fifteen in the night, my friend having left with a total stranger an hour ago. Good for her, the woman she left with was gorgeous and seemed to be a good flirt, but alas, here I sit, alone.

Well, not completely alone. There’s a guy who’s been looking me up and down, catching my gaze every time I look his way. Lara had been trying to convince me to give him the time of day- well, time of night, I guess- but quite frankly, I’m just not feeling it. I’ve seen this guy here every time I’ve gone here, which is few and far between. My guess is he has more STDs than I’ve had students, which would be saying something.

Before he was sitting a seat away, but now he’s scooted down to the seat next to me.

“Heya, gorgeous. Can I buy you a drink?”

“Listen, jawline,” I say, giving him the once over.

“Jawline?” he makes a face, nose scrunched and lips in a line like he smells something bad. I raise my drink to my lips; take a small, languid, sip; before continuing.

“Whatever. I know your move, coming to the same bar every night to take home a different pretty lady, throwing out your lines and your casual chauvinism. It’s cute, but you can buzz off if you’re trying to work your fuck-boy charm on me,” I set my glass down on the bar with a slight thud to emphasize my point.

“My fuck-boy charm?” he smirks. And to his credit, he really is attractive. Pink lips curled up to a point with boyish, mischievous blue eyes- it’s conventional. More than, even. I’m just not having it. And he didn’t deny that he’s the slut I described him to be.

“I said what I said.”

“Wanna get out of here?” he tries. The audacity.

“No.”

“Worth a shot.”

“Mm.”

“So is all I’m getting one syllable answers now?” he looks amused. Not pissed, nor frustrated. Just amused.

“No.” And I can’t help it, but I smile as I say it. I can’t say I don’t see the charm.

“I got a smile,” he comments, a smirk playing at his lips.

“And at least three ladies awaiting you to escort one or all of them to your surely not humble abode,” I counter.

“Wow, you really don’t like me, huh?” he takes a sip of his very expensive whiskey.

“Maybe not you specifically, just your type.”

“What? Casual chauvinistic fuck boys?”

“Exactly,” that gets a slight huff out of me. Again, I see the appeal. I just don’t want to.

“Tell you what- you play pool?” he points to the pool table with his glass.

“Why?”

“Do you play?” I have a good feeling we could go question for question for three hours.

I turn up my nose. “Sure. Why?“

“I’ve got a proposition for you, if you’re interested,” he says. His voice has a slight hint of New York to it, proposition sounding like prop-ah-sition.

“I’m not interested,” I say, knowing he’s going to explain it anyway.

“Good. I tell you what- you win, I’ll buzz off. I win, and because you’re into this, you consider a kiss,” he proposes.

“Mm. You buzzing off or me just considering? I like these odds,” I down the rest of my drink. “Let’s do it.”

“Sounds good,” again with that smirk before turning to the bartender. “Another for the lady? On my tab.”

“Wow, what a gentleman,” I snark.

“I try,” he says, grabbing my drink from the bartender with a thank you and handing it to me. I down it right then and there.

“Thanks,” I smirk, before walking off to the pool table. Sure, I don’t need the extra kick in the pants right now, but what can I say? It’s fun.

He follows suite, somehow having grabbed yet another of my drink in doing so.

“You gonna down this one too, Dollface?” he asks, handing it to me.

“What did you just call me, jackass?”

“Dollface. Why? You don’t like it?”

I plaster the fakest smile I can manage onto my face and then in my highest voice, say “Noo, I love it.”

He laughs. “Lovely voice you’ve got there.”

“Why thank you. It’s good for attracting hot douchebags.”

“Hot Jacobs,” he corrects, holding out his hand.

“Y/n. Let’s not forget I called you a douchebag.” I drop the voice, shaking his hand briefly.

“Mm. Y/n,” my name sounds like honey coming off of his lips. “You know, Y/n, we could just skip this silly game and head straight to my place.” He’s standing barely six inches away.

“Tempting, but this ‘silly game’ was your idea,” I counter, leaning up.

“A dumb idea, if I do say so myself,” he says, eyes trained on my lips.

“Well thats too bad. I was looking forward to some good old fashioned billiards,” I smirk, holding up a pool rod between us.

“Who am I to deny a lady?” there’s a double entendre in those words that against my will gives me chills.

“You seem like the type to. Color me impressed,” I respond, keeping my composure.

“What color is ‘impressed’?”

“Maybe a blue, or an orange?”

“Those are polar opposites,” he notes.

“Huh,” I say, setting up the balls in the triangular holder, and then removing it.

“Ladies first,” he says, stepping behind me.

“Gee, thanks,” I say, lining up a shot. I can sense him behind me, so I rear back the rod, hoping to hit him in the stomach, and then take my shot, making a ball in the furthest hole away from me. I smirk, hearing his oof from behind me, and turn around.

“Oops,” I snicker.

He sticks out his tongue, holding his stomach.

“Aww, you look like one of my kids,” I mock.

“You have kids?” he looks a little alarmed by the notion.

“I teach fourth grade English,” I explain. “Why?”

“Oh, I was going to say I could be a good daddy if you’d give me the chance,” he rubs the back of his head. I grimace.

“I ought to hit you again.”

“No, no, please don’t, I’m sorry,” he holds up his hands in mock surrender.

“You love your double entendres, huh?”

“A little too much, some might say.”

“I would have to agree with this omniscient some,” I say, taking a long sip of my drink.

“Did I make you uncomfortable with that last one? I’m sorry if I did.” Huh. Genuineness. Didn’t expect that one.

“No, you’re fine. It was kinda funny,” I tell him, a smile playing at my lips.

“Alright, if you say so. But if I do make you uncomfortable feel free to hit me again,” he offers.

“You into that?” I joke.

“Maybe a little,” he laughs, sipping his whiskey.

“Can I try your drink?”

“Sure…” he hands it to me, looking a little confused.

I take it in my hands, and throw the glass back, drinking whatever was left of it, including the ice cube. I suck my teeth because of how strong the liquor is- just what I need for what I’m about to say.

“Uh-,” I hold up a hand to his face, taking my sweet time to crunch down the ice cube.

“How about we ditch pool and head back to your place?”

And it’s sudden. And it’s rash. And it’s probably really, really dumb.

But it also feels right, and for that reason there is no end of confidence in my voice.

Sure, we could stay here and flirt another hour, but no matter how it were to be caused the outcome would be the same, that we would go home together.

And honestly, so be it.

“Yeah,” he says, the surprise in his voice evident but matched by a rasp forged by apparent attraction. His electric blue eyes are blown out, the black of his pupils overtaking his irises. Yet somehow he manages to regain his smirk, retaining his suave aura.

Fine. He’s hot. And all of my prior inhibitions have dissipated into a state of nonexistence.

***

Fifteen minutes later, I’m sitting on his couch, apparently filled with the down of only black swans, waiting for him to join me. I look around, at his movie theater sized screen, his expensive coffee table, the fancy lamps and other furnishings. The furniture itself is relatively sparse, yet spaced with purpose. Also, every piece seems to be worth more than my yearly salary. But there’s nothing that really says anything about this Jacob.

Jacob Palmer, was his full name, as he had told me on the way here. And yet nothing in this room tells me anything about Jacob Palmer.

The enigma himself emerges back into the living room with two orange-ish drinks in hand. “Here you are,” he says, handing me one.

I stand up to take it from him, immediately rising a dip. It starts off tasting orangey and sweet, and then turns bitter and tastes something like glass cleaner. I do everything in my power not to grimace.

“You hate it, don’t you,” he comments. There’s no offense in his voice, if anything just a hint of amusement.

“No, it’s great,” I day, trying to take another sip, unable to stop myself from puckering due to the bitterness. “You made it?”

“Yeah,” he’s fully smiling now.

“Oh, lovely- could I just see your glass?” He hands it to me. I pour my drink into his, and the hand the full glass back to him as if it’s some wonderful gift.

“You’re adorable,” he chuckles, sipping the nasty drink and sitting on the couch. I follow suite, sitting next to him so our knees are touching.

“Tell me something about yourself, Jacob Palmer,” I say after a few moments of silence. His brow furrows, eyes slightly wide as he looks at me.

“About myself?” the surprise in his voice breaks my heart a little. Who is this man?

“Yeah, about yourself.” My voice is gentle, this feels fragile.

He sighs. Not in discontent, but with a tinge of wistfulness. “When I was eight, I had a dog named Brownie. He was a chocolate lab, and for some reason eight-year-old me thought that was a good name for him,” he laughs fondly.

“He sounds adorable,” I prompt.

“He was… he was my favorite little dude. But not my mom’s. One day he “went missing” and I never ended up finding out what happened to him,” Jacob sinks back into the cushion of the couch. I tentatively put a hand on his thigh.

“Oh, Jacob, I’m so sorry,” I mumble.

“No, I’m sorry- that’s about as unsexy as story as I could’ve told.”

“Heh, I’ve heard worse.”

“That makes me feel less bad.”

“Good, it was meant to.”

A few moments go by as I trace little circles on his thigh, close to his knee. He takes a hefty sip of his drink.

“Okay, tell me something about yourself, Y/n L/n,” he says, turning to me, his blue-eyed gaze boring holes into my soul.

“Uhh… my favorite movie is Ghost,” I say, shrugging.

“Well that’s a bit lighter than what I said,” he jokes.

“Light? Did you just call Patrick Swayze light?” I say with melodrama. “He is literally everything to me, rest in peace.” I send a kiss up to the sky to prove my point.

“Oh yeah? How do you feel about Dirty Dancing?”

“The only movie I like more is Ghost,” I answer.

“Well… you know the move? The big move?” he asks, setting his glass down on the coffee table.

“The one where he…” I mime Patrick Swayze’s infamous lift of Jennifer Grey.

“Yeah, that’s the one. I can do that,” he says, looking at me, dead serious.

“You’re shitting me,” I say indignantly. There’s no way this random hot stranger at the bar can do the lift.

He stands up. “Come on!” he says, offering a hand. I take it, and he lifts me up. Shit, I can already tell he’s strong. Maybe he really can do it.

“Stand here, ok?” he directs, hands on my waist as he positions me. His hands are well manicured and pleasantly soft. He then walks off about three yards from me, thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans.

My heart is pounding out of my chest, from nerves and excitement. I couldn’t have stopped myself from running into those soft hands if I had wanted to once he said go. And man, I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s how attractive it is that he can lift me up like this, that I’m about seven feet off the ground, or that he you know, just Swayze-d me, but once he lets me down, holding me so that my legs are no longs straight in the air and instead wrapped around his waist, once we’re eye to eye again I can’t help but kiss him full force and whisper bedroom as he pulls away briefly before chasing my lips again.

And man, that was a long sentence. Absolutely embarrassing-appalling, even- for an English teacher.

But I guess that’s just the Jacob Palmer effect.

***

I’m lying beside him, looking at the ceiling. We’re both stark naked, and out of breath. My hand is interlocked with his, the only acknowledgment of each other.

My legs tingle as I lie there limply, I’m sure that they’re going to remember this night for a few days.

What had pleasantly surprised me about Jacob Palmer was that he was more focused on my pleasure than his, almost like he got off via me getting off.

He was so methodical, so calculated and perfect with the way he did everything. With the way he slowly brought me to the edge three times, every time making me progressively more weak in the knees. He obviously knew what he was doing from experience, but that didn’t bother me in the moment with how good he was. Especially with how he managed to ease my typical tenseness into a babbling mess.

And all of a sudden I’m giggling uncontrollably, finally recognizing how unreal what just happened was.

“What?” he turns toward me, laughing with me.

“I-just-,” I can’t stop laughing. “You’re not real! With the Swayze, and the movie theater screen, and the sex- god, the sex!”

“That good?” he looks a little smug. Honestly, well deserved. Most of the guys I’ve been with can’t even find the clit much less get a girl off three times.

“Yes!” I cry. “But also, who needs three toasters and a movie theater sized popcorn machine?” My voice is hysterical, as if I’m on anesthesia.

“No one! Except me apparently,” he hides his face in his pillow.

“I’m sorry,” I say, trying to catch my breath. “It’s just that you’re such an enigma to me.”

“You aren’t that easy to figure out yourself, Dollface,” he concurs, peaking one eye out at me. His eyelashes are so long. We sit there smiling at each other for a minute, before this new wired me decides to dramatically ask for a drink.

“You want a water? Coke? Tab?” he sits up, moving to get out of the bed. The cover is strewn haphazardly over his waist, exposing his Adonis belt. But instead of admiring his physique, I laugh.

“Tab? Who the hell drinks Tab?”

“No one!” he snorts.

“Then why do you have it?”

“For the same reason I have a screen that used to belong to a movie theater! I’m deeply unhappy and trying to disprove that money can’t buy happiness.”

“And?”

“And whoever the hell said it the first time was right- I’m still unhappy.”

“Shit, Jacob,” I say, sitting up next to him, not caring that I’m completely topless. “I’m sorry.”

This explains these constant one night stands of his. The bar being his second home. He wants to feel loved, to feel happy. It’s like the enigma’s beginning to unravel.

“Tell you what. Wanna take a bath?”

“What?” I can’t stifle the disbelief in my voice, the enigma’s rewound itself into a tight ball.

“The buying thing? I have so, so many bath products and shit. That I don’t use,” he confesses, looking me in the eyes.

“In that case,” I say as seriously as I can manage. “I would love to take a bath.”

His poker face cracks at that, and he stands up, offering me a hand. “My lady?”

“Milord,” I take it, letting him pull me up and sweep me into a kiss so all-consuming that I’m just about ready to forgo all ideas and go right back to the bed.

“Mk,” I hum breathlessly. “Where’s the fridge?”

“Well, the drink fridge is next to the popcorn machine,” he says.

“Drink fridge? As in specifically for drinks.” I take his ashamed blush as confirmation. “Noted,” I say, scurrying off in all my nude glory leaving him to start the bath that we, two adults, plan to take.

***

“Okay, let’s use rose and strawberry and orange,” I dictate, hands grazing over the racks of bath salts. “And the bubbles.”

“Perfect,” he says, taking a long swig of the orange soda I had grabbed for him. I had taken a strawberry- apparently he has literally every flavor.

“How do you have all this pop and never drink it?” I ask, touching the bath water to make sure it’s warm. It is.

“For these, I guess,” he motions to his abs.

I blow a raspberry at him. “Boring.”

He blows a raspberry back at me, before dumping half of a container of bath salt into the water. “Think that’s enough?”

“Meh,” I say, prompting him to pour the rest of the jar. We throw some other things in the bath as if we’re witches in a cartoon movie making a potion, and then finally hop in.

I’m sat with my back against his chest as we laugh about nothing.

“Jacob?” I ask once our laughter’s died down. He’s holding me close, strong forearms wrapped around my stomach.

“Yeah?”

“Why are you so unhappy?”

“I don’t think you want the answer to that, it’s about as unsexy as the dog thing.”

“You’re too sexy to be unsexy, Jacob Palmer.” I think I’m addicted to saying his full name.

He sigh, hugging me impossibly closer. “Uh… my dad. He was a really good man, too good some might say. Just a sweet guy, you know?”

He takes a second, presumably regaining his thoughts. “He died when I was little. I think my mom’s happiness went with him. She was so beautiful, but very vain. I think he kept that side of her away, but once he was gone…”

He sighs again, and I shift so I can look up at him. “I think you’re a lot like your dad,” I say, not really knowing how to comfort him. “Sure, you come off as a… what did I say? Casual chauvinist? A fuckboy? But you’re actually a really good guy.”

“And how would you know that? We’ve known each other for hours.”

“For that reason exactly. I don’t usually get a good vibe on people fast, but you… you’re different.”

“Thanks, Y/n,” he kisses me on the lips softly. “Can you tell me something about yourself? I feel like I’ve shared too much,” he laughs awkwardly.

“Hmm… I don’t love teaching,” I confess. I’ve never actually said that out loud.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I shouldn’t have stuck with it, and it’s so hard to do it just for the three or so kids who actually care, you know? And English? Who fucking cares about English?”

“You do.”

“Yeah, but did you?”

“No,” he confesses sheepishly.

“Exactly. And I’m even getting that from teaching ten year olds. It’s just not… worth it? From the pay and the general outcome, it really isn’t.”

“Then quit!”

“And do what?”

“Become a dancer- I saw how straight your back was on that lift,” he compliments, trying to get a smile out of me. He succeeds.

“That would be the dream. And probably more practical than teaching, financially speaking.”

“Yeah… does the garbage man get paid more than you?” he jokes.

“Yep.” My voice is a deadpan.

“Damn.”

“Yeah,” I lie back against his toned chest.

“You’ll figure something out, I’m sure of it.”

“Whys that?”

“Because,” he starts, voice full of conviction. “You’re incredible.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” And yes, it’s only been a few hours. It’s dramatic and kinda crazy and stupid. But it feels right?

And so maybe we stay up into the ass crack of dawn, talking about everything and nothing at all. Maybe we find ourselves sleeping the day away, only to rinse and repeat tonight tomorrow night. Maybe we go on a real date, and we see where our paths take us.

But for now, I think we both just need to focus on the happiness in the moment. So that’s what we do, even whilst covered in bubbles taking a bath- as adults.

[aryxchse]

First of all... 🎉SO SO GLAD TO HAVE MY DELIGHT BACK!~ -I literally missed you🥺-

There has been lots of things I wanted hear your take on about. So I am pulling up my 'gotta share with my Delight' folder. And the first one I remembered is about when I was watching one of my obsession cartoon. There was this swimming competition scene and gUeSs WhO dId I tHoUgHt AbOuT?🤗🤭

-uh i know it's impossible to guess😒-

PERCY JACKSON -fangirl screams as if she is getting murdered🫠-

Headcannons or Blurb doesn't matter. Reader supporting him. Telling him to slow down or catch back up to help confused son of Posiedon.

Like that scene in Incredibles. Confused Percy trying to understand whether he should slow down because he is way to good or catch back up because he slowed down to much. Reader being supportive jumping and cheering while trying to hold her laughs because of how confused he is.

And then Percy comes out winning -duh-. Looking perfect after being in his element -🧎🏻‍♀️-

And ADORABLE celebration. Hugging, twirling fluffy stuff.

P.S.: Sorry I was keep getting lost at imagining it didn't know how to put into the words. I hope I am making sense. Very excited for your take on this one!

💋

winner takes it all. / percy jackson x female! reader.

a / n : oh my gods hi, im back 🤭

warnings : cursing and let me know if there's another

you were more excited than your boyfriend.

it was percy's one of important swimming competitions, and you were obviously there to watch it. you didn't had any doubts on your boyfriend winning, and it should be boring for you to watch him win his every single game at this point, but you can't help it. it makes you feel like a normal teenager again, watching your normal -totally not the son of poseidon- boyfriend doing his best to win his match.

before the game starts, you find him to have some chit-chat. little motivations that you're sure he doesn't need but loves it anyway. but then, you hear two guys speaking. you're not the type to eavesdrop on someone unless you're on some quest, but this was different. because even the first sentence made your blood boil.

"that jackson thinks he's some type of god," one of the boys scoffed. "there wasn't anyone professional enough to beat him, that's why. watch me carefully, because im gonna beat him so bad that he'll walk with shame." and two of them started laughing like they're some type of cartoon villians.

you leaved the changing room angrily but quietly, trying to find percy. he was on the bench with sally and paul, laughing about something estelle said. you smiled, seeing him so sure about himself made you calm.

"hey," you said, approaching to them. as percy's attention focused on you, sally and paul let you talk in private, giving their attention to poseidon. yes, he was here. he comes watching every match of percy's.

percy smile got wider. "hi sweetheart, i was wondering where you were." he said. "where were you, really?"

you shrugged, hugging him. "looking for you." you explained, not fully a lie but not the truth either. "so, what are your plans for today's match?"

percy paused to think for a second. "what do you say? im winning all the time, should i lose? oohh, that would make a huge scandal!" he said excitedly, smiling. you mirrored his expression, getting serious the next moment.

"no, you have to win this one."

your serious expression and even more serious tone made percy serious too. his smile dissapeared and he made a focused face, like he's talking to his coach, not his girlfriend. and you like that he take this seriously.

"why?" he asked, even though he was already ready to do what you say.

"because your rivals are shitty persons who thinks you're not good enough, just your previous opponents were bad." you explained. "i.. kinda heard them while i was looking for you in the change room."

percy gave you his famous smirk. "yeah? i'm becoming a bad influence for you, really. usually im the one who does the mischief."

you hit his arm playfully, but laughing. "hey! my intentions weren't bad, i was really looking for you. and im glad i heard them!"

percy laughed along with you. "so, what's the plan ma'am? should i go with the easy win, or?"

"the hard win." you smirked, pulling him close to you so that you could tell the plan.

🏊🏻‍♂️

as the game start, you cheered for percy, even though he wasn't going to hear you.

the plan was simple, he was going to give that fucker what he wanted until the last moment, that's why poseidon cursed when he saw percy got behind him.

"like he can't win!" he yelled, holding his head. sally put a hand on his shoulder to calm him, and it worked instantly.

the guy was about to win when percy suddenly speed up, passing him with no effort. the guy was so confused that he had to stop in the middle of the swimming, already losing his balance.

you screamed happily when percy got out of the water, and they announced that he was the winner. poseidon sighed, smiling and cheering for his son as well.

you went down to hug him, not caring if he or the floor was wet. sally and the others were behind you, following right after.

"percy!" you called, jumping his arms. you could already see the other boy walking to the eliminated place with full of shame, and you smirked with pleasure.

"did i do good?" he asked you, spinning you around with the medal on his neck. he took off the bonnet, shaking his head and making his hair fall to his face. it was a sight to watch, really.

"you did amazing!" you kissed his forehead, still in his arms. poseidon immediatly hugged him, or technically hugged you both, and cheered for his son. "that's my boy!"

percy had to put you down eventually to hug his family, but never once he took his eyes off of you.

[yawneneteyam]

gorgeous (12) — honey it hurts

— GORGEOUS, an avatar smau ( by yawneneteyam ) masterlist

— gorgeous, honey it hurts ! ( last night, 11:57pm )

they had kissed. finally.

it had been months and months of pining for y/n that lead up to this moment and it was fairytale-esque. everything she had ever wanted. neteyam hadn't fully processed what he had just done, but he knew that it wasn't a bad thing to have her lips on his- he was revelling in it.

"hey man," a voice interrupted them both, bursting their bubble. neteyam let go of y/n's hand and face, looking to find ao'nung holding up his sister. kiri had traces of vomit on her face and her eyes were closed, she had passed out. "I think she's done for the night," ao'nung sighed, "sorry guys,"

he and lo'ak had been celebrating their little win when he spotted kiri throwing up just outside the club. ao'nung knew that neteyam wasn't drinking tonight, meaning he was the only one who could get her home safely.

neteyam sighed and closed his eyes in frustration. just once he would love to have a moment to himself without needing to save his siblings. it was selfish, but he longed for it- however, he knew it would never be a reality.

"yeah course," neteyam tried to shift kiri's weight onto him, but in her state she wasn't cooperating. so neteyam put his arm underneath her armpit and hoisted her into his arms. y/n tried not to gawk at how easily he was supporting her loose frame. his biceps were pressed against the tight material of his t-shirt. "come on, kiri- you're alright," he tried to wake her up to no avail.

y/n turned around to the bar and asked for a bottle of water. once she had paid for it, she put it on top of kiri and made sure she wouldn't lose it as neteyam walked. he thanked her softly.

"I'm sorry," he apologised, "but I have to go,"

"that's okay," she nodded, "promise. go be a mighty warrior big brother nete,"

"seems like I'll never be anything else," he wanted to laugh, but he just sighed with a smile. "I'll see you, y/n" he offered her a kiss on the head before leaving with kiri wrapped in his arms.

y/n watched neteyam leave before heading back over to tsireya, ao'nung and lo'ak. "are you okay?" she asked.

"that was insane," lo'ak gave y/n a fist bump before heading back to the bar.

"I'm-" y/n took a deep breath before sighing with a grin on her face, "so happy it hurts". tsireya smiled at her friend's happiness before bringing her in for a tight hug.

outside, neteyam was walking to his car. once he had secured kiri in the front seat and did up her seatbelt, neteyam went to walk around to the driver side of the car. he caught towa'an's eye as he shut the passenger door.

"hey," towa'an stopped him from leaving, "what the fuck was that? you think that was cool?". neteyam knew he wanted trouble and neteyam usually wouldn't give in, but with the picture of him making y/n smile locked in his brain, he was ready to stoop down to his level.

"not cool necessarily," neteyam shook his head, "but necessary,"

"you think so?" towa'an crossed his arms, taking a step closer towards neteyam- but was stopped by Neteyam's strong arms pushing him back.

"yeah," neteyam nodded, "I do". neteyam smiled slightly before taking a step closer to towa'an, "so stay the fuck away from her," he chuckled, "is that.. cool?"

towa'an didn't say anything in response, just stood there with his arms now crossed. neteyam offered him one last smile and a pat on the back before walking over to the front seat of his car, driving away knowing he had won.

— gorgeous, honey it hurts ! progress???? trying to not let them get together toooooo quick!!! ANYWAY WE'RE BACK TO FLUFF, do not fear fluff gals I am back. I do drool for possessive neteyam and we will definitely be seeing more of him- pinky swear!! thank you for all the love, I appreciate you all- big love for you all!!!!

[staybabblingbaby]

Soulmate Garden AU Ch.1 (Dahlia) a2 d5

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Growing up, you knew Soulmates weren't all that they cracked up to be. So when, on your 18th birthday, your skin is painted with a garden of flower buds, you resolve to hide it from everyone. Who had ever heard of someone with 8 soulmates, anyway?

Or; Reader has 8 soulmates and no issue avoiding all of them. It's up to SKZ to show her that while every soulbond might not be made of fairy tales, theirs certainly could be.

Word Count: 5,368

Notes: My friend Tiny said this was very Wattpad era of me, so I'm so sorry that I'm cringe, guys. She also said she loved it and I am also p satisfied w it, so. Celebrations! It's also fucking long for me, like damn. Chill. I do have some disclaimers abt this tho. 1) I have never been to a k-pop concert, I am doing my best working off of what videos, vlogs, blogs, and Quora and Reddit answers for this. I'm very sorry if it's horribly inaccurate. Also it's idealized so it'd gonna be inaccurate 2) Covid never happened in this universe! Send-offs for everyone!

Dividers by @saradika

Warnings: She/Her Reader, sort of dissociating? ish?

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks <3

Masterlist <3 | Prev Part | Next Part

“Yes, Ma, I promise I’m doing just fine,” You grunt into your phone, tucking the device between your cheek and shoulder as you juggle your groceries and try to dig out your keys, “No one has tried to mug me, I’m eating well, and the job is the same as the last time you called.”

You manage to both open your door and kick it shut as your mother replies, “I just worry about you dear. You’re so far away from us now, what if you need help?”

You waddle to your kitchen counter to offload your burdens, stretching your cramping fingers out as you go to properly hold your phone again.

“I know, Ma, but I’m sure I’ll make some friends with time and then they can help me out.” you finally reply with a sigh. You begin the arduous task of actually putting your groceries away, resigned to the fate of a functional adult.

You hear your sister bark out a laugh in the background. It’s possibly about hearing ‘you’ and ‘friends’ in the same sentence (Which, ouch. True, but ouch). You magnanimously ignore her.

“Honey, I love you, but it’s been almost a year. You have yet to tell me about a single friend.” Your Mom retorts. Again, ouch.

“I have Taylor!” You defend, slamming your fridge shut with a pout.

“Your roommate doesn’t count!” Your little sister taunts from the background. You hear your mother shush her but her agreement is implied when she doesn’t correct the little gremlin.

“He so does!” You argue, “We hang out in contexts that are not work or school, we eat meals together, and we’re even going to a concert this weekend! That’s friends! That’s best friends, even.” You sound a bit pathetic even to yourself, but the day your sister wins over you is the day you die.

“That’s a friendly roommate,” Is your sister’s amused response, “I bet you don’t even know what his favorite color is.” Your silence is answer enough, and she cracks up, laughing so hard that you hear a muted thump as she falls off of whatever furniture she’d been occupying.

Guess you’re dying today.

Your mother changes the subject to the goings-on of your hometown while your sister asphyxiates in the background. You’ve only been away for a little under a year now, but as you listen to her talk about which of your littlest cousins are starting school and which of your relatives are causing drama, you realize that it’s already been a little under a year.

You flop onto your couch as your mom babbles away, holding back an existential crisis.

Your fingers begin tracing the long-since memorized lines of your soulmark over your clothes as you ponder the passing of time, fully zoned out of your mother’s gossip. Your sister seems to catch on to your long silence, interrupting you mother to pester you into giving her more material to taunt you over.

“What concert are you going to, anyway?” She questions.

“Oh, it’s a K-Pop group called Stray Kids,” You tell her. You can practically feel her interest shrivel up and die as soon as you say K-Pop, bless her elitist, snobby, little heart. “Taylor likes them a lot, and his boyfriend dumped him last month, so I got some good tickets to cheer him up.”

Your mother coos at you briefly before your sister overtakes the conversation again, “Are they even good?” You can hear the sneer in her voice as she falls into Music Snob (tm) mode, so you roll your eyes when you reply.

“They’re fun to dance to when I’m doing chores, so that’s good enough for me.”

“You can’t even understand them.” She complains.

“I can, actually.” You inform her primly, “My language elective was Korean. I took the whole course.”

“You’re a weirdo.”

“Tell that to my sweet, sweet, degree, kiddo.” It’s finally your turn to taunt.

“Whatever, you’re not even going with a friend, just your roommate. How fun could it be?” She pouts back.

“I told you, we are friends! Best friends, even!”

“You still don’t know his favorite color.” She retorts smugly.

“I know his favorite flower, that’s gotta count for something!” Your mother hums in agreement, and you picture her watching your bickering like a tennis match, assigning points in her head.

“It doesn’t, because you know everyone’s favorite flower! You know the mail guy’s favorite flower! It’s like an obsession.” You picture your sister rolling her eyes at you, exasperation pouring off of her. The image makes you grin as you reply.

“Only if it’s still Jim. I haven’t been around to ask anyone new.” You point out. Reasonably, you think, but for some reason your sister lets out a loud groan of annoyance and you hear her exaggerated stomps ass she removes herself from your presence. Your mother lets out an amused little huff and you imagine you’ve won the tennis match in her head.

No death for you today. Score!

Your mom yaps with you for a little longer, before finally bidding you farewell, telling you that you should call more often (like you don’t chat literally every Friday afternoon like clockwork), tell your dad to come home soon if you happen to call him (you won’t. He won’t either), and tell her all about how the concert goes next week. You promise to do that one easily.

When she hangs up, you’re left with the ringing silence of an empty apartment. Moving to LA has been a quieter experience than you’re used to in general, for many reasons. Sure, the city itself is louder than your little suburb by miles, but life has been... More peaceful, since. Quieter.

It still makes you uneasy, even 10 months later.

You get up from the couch and drift off to your room like a ghost, opening Spotify on your way. The opening notes of Ruth B’s Lost Boy and a something nauseous swirling in your gut is all that follows you.

On concert morning, you’re woken up bright and early by your air-horn of a roommate slamming your door open.

“Concert daaaaaaaaay~” He trills at you from the doorway. You don’t even open your eyes when you roll over and throw a pillow at him in protest. A soft ‘oof’ tells you that you hit your mark for once. Nice.

“Nice shot!” Taylor cheers, “But now I have your ammo, so it’s up time.”

You roll over again, taking the edge of your blanket with you and tossing it over your head. You pull a stuffed animal under with you, and curl tightly around it.

“Nmf gmf.” You grumble at him through a mouthful of fluff.

“Nuh-uh!” Taylor tuts, already fluent in Morning Grumble, “We gotta get up. There’s food to be eaten, outfits to put on, and lines to beat!”

You let out a long, agonized, groan, but obligingly roll over and starfish out with childish protest. Taylor waits until you open your eyes to glare at his annoyingly cheerful blond bedhead before he leaves your doorway with a sunny smile. Smug bastard.

He leaves your door open too, the shit, allowing the sweet smell of french toast and eggs to drift into your room. You sit up with a whiney groan, scrubbing harshly at your face.

You’d forgive him this time. Just for the french toast.

You lean over to grab your phone from your bedside table, just waking the screen to check the time. When the numbers register you lay right the way back down with another long wail of protest.

Four in the morning. That french toast had better be fucking good.

You eventually stumble into the kitchen and are promptly handed a very large and very welcomed cup of coffee. Taylor hands you a plate piled high with french toast and eggs, fruits and toppings already out, before you can even try to start bitching at him.

You take in the spread with a furrowed brow, before slowly lifting your head to pin Taylor with a suspicious stare.

“My dude, it is four in the morning. How?”

Taylor just shrugs at you. “Couldn’t sleep. Too excited.”

You nod slowly at him. “I’ll drive. You’re napping in the car.”

This triggers a round of outraged whining from your sleep-deprived roommate, which you cull by pointing out that headaches and concerts are an awful combo. He subsides but insists he’ll be even more excited in the car, since it’s closer to concert time. You tell him to do it anyway.

“Why are we up so early in the first place?” You complain as you drain the last dregs of your drink. “The concert isn’t for, like, fifteen hours.”

“The concert is only fifteen hours away! Countdowns have already started, mark my words!” Taylor counters, “You got us Soundcheck tickets! VIP! We have to take advantage! I want the entire experience. Freebies, insane merch lines, sponsor booths, everything.” He gets more and more incensed as he goes on, leaning farther over the table, his shirt almost dragging in the puddles of syrup on his plate.

You raise your hands in surrender to his wild-eyed look. “Whatever,” You concede, “You’re the boss, this is your day.”

Taylor nods in satisfaction, leaning back. You notice that he actually does take some syrup with him as he re-seats himself. “As it should be.” Is his prim reply.

You sort of just laugh at him, and your routine of friendly bickering continues as the two of you make quick work of fixing up the kitchen.

You two split off to get ready, Taylor demanding a leave time of 6am sharp. You do your best to appease him, dressing up enough to say you put effort in, but paying mind to comfort over style. You’re putting the last touches on your eye liner when Taylor barges in.

You give him a stink eye for not knocking, which he blissfully ignores as he looks over you top to bottom. He summarily declares you “Good, but not good enough” and stampedes over to raid your closet.

At this point in your cohabitation you’ve learned to just let him do his thing when he gets like this. He doesn’t let you dress yourself when you go clubbing with his friends either, the jerk. Your fashion sense is perfectly acceptable, thank-you-very-much.

He tells you you’re being assigned a bias for today based on your wardrobe as he tosses you a white and navy stripped polo shirt and some navy sweatpants with racer strips on the side. He pulls up a reference photo on your phone and tells you to accessorize while he goes to find an appropriate tie from his stash for you.

Looking at the picture of Han Jisung on your screen, you admit that the outfit is pretty close already. You decide to leave the polo’s buttons undone, grabbing a white camisole to put on under. Your accessories take a bit longer, and you can’t see the shoes to match those, but Taylor seems satisfied enough when he comes back.

He hands you a tie and a handful of pins to complete your look and begins pushing you out the door before you can even put them on properly. When you protest this he insists that the two of you are running late, despite the concert still being more than 13 hours away.

You do, in fact, make him sleep in the car. He does not appreciate this, but early morning traffic can lull even the most dutiful of soldiers to sleep. He’s somehow even more chipper than usual when he wakes up, despite being groggy and bleary-eyed.

The crowd, when the two of you arrive, isn’t as big as you were expecting it to be. With all of Taylor’s rushing, you’d expected to barely be able to see the doors. The merch booth he was so excited about isn’t even open yet, and he settles the two of you into the line to enter the venue instead of camping there.

It’s immediately obvious who the extrovert between the two of you is, Taylor’s bouncy blond head beginning to duck and weave among the small crowd as soon as you claim your spot, laughs and excited exchanges popping up wherever he stopped. You, on the other hand, stay exactly where you’d been left and fiddle around on your phone, Taylor’s clear backpack abandoned in your arms.

You’re pretty sure this is purposeful on his part. You know each other well enough by now that he’s well aware of your tendency to stay planted once you’re settled. You’re definitely being used to stake out your spot. You steal one of his granola bars as payment for your services.

An hour or so drags through, and Taylor has thoroughly befriended most of the people around you. Once he’s decided that it’s about time to line up for some of the merch booths, Taylor leaves you in the tender care of the other fans as he goes to stake out a spot. He gracefully accepts both your wallet and your request of “a t-shirt and something they can sign”

The group of four people behind you, in particular, take his (only semi-joking) request of “take care of my introvert for me” seriously.

“So are you a Han bias?” One asks you as Taylor prances off. Her outfit is majority blue, little Bbokari (You can admit that the little characters charm you. You probably know their names better than the Stray Kids themselves) hair clips and keychains decorating her person.

You look down at yourself and then back up at her, almost having forgotten that you were dressed up as him. “Ah, no. Taylor, my friend, dressed me this morning. We’re here for him today. Though, he did say Han was my assigned bias today.” You laugh nervously, hoping they don’t judge your lack of knowledge.

Thankfully none of them seem discouraged by your response, giggling along with your little joke. In fact one of them, dressed head to toe in merch, seems almost excited by the prospect.

“Are you a baby Stay then?” She asks you with sparkling eyes. You wave your hands in front of yourself a bit defensively.

“Ah, no. I wouldn’t go that far. I like their music when Taylor plays it around the apartment, but I wouldn’t consider myself part of the fandom. This is actually my first k-pop experience in general.” You explain, “When I say we’re here for him, I mean I am here in total ignorance.”

Another girl, dressed in a loud assortment of colors you vaguely recognize from the music video Taylor had on loop in your living room for a week and a half when it dropped, lets out a low whistle. “Throwing you right into the deep end, huh? Hardcore.”

The group of you laugh a bit, the only guy in their group agreeing with, “Well if you’re not a fan now, you will be when you leave. Their performances are amazing, honestly.”

You absorb the gushing with an open heart, truly hoping for that to be the case. You take this opportunity to take the spotlight off of yourself.

“Oh, have you guys been to a Stray Kids concert before? It’s Taylor’s first.”

That question is the key to the floodgates, and you end up spending the next 3 and a half hours waiting for Taylor’s return (with text updates from the man himself, assuring you that he is still where he’s supposed to be) being regaled with tales of concerts, events, and comebacks past. You feel a bit like you’re getting a crash course in all things Stray Kids, phones often popping out to show you clips, fancams, and photos.

It makes you smile, feeling very included and welcomed as you occasionally pepper in a question or two to keep them going. It’s just like dinners at the apartment with Taylor, him unloading his stress through fandom, and you unloading yours through listening to his ramblings.

This is exactly why you came with him today.

Taylor makes his return loaded down with goodies both purchased and gifted by other fans, to which you welcome him by cheering loudly. This triggers your new group to do the same. Somehow, the five of you cheering leads to a large portion of the early crowd, which had grown by the hour, cheering with you.

You feel a bit shy at the power you apparently hold, and laugh about it with your new friends.

Eventually Taylor and Merch Girl (you hadn’t managed to catch any of their names, you realize belatedly. It’d be too awkward to ask now. You resolve to simply Not Address Them) split off to do more rounds among other fans, distributing their own freebies.

You hadn’t even realized Taylor had made freebies. You’re also not sure how he found the time. Love finds a way, you suppose.

The other group’s Token Guy Friend (who will always been Token Guy to you, so sorry Token Guy) passes the conversation back to you. Not appreciated, Token Guy.

You can’t be all that mad though, as he shuffles through his bag to produce a piece of paper and a chisel-tipped sharpie. He passes the items to you with a grin.

“If you’re close to the stage you should have a sign! You might get an interaction that way!” He enthuses. The remaining girls cheer at the idea, sighing over the possibility of you getting an interaction at your very first concert.

You hold back correcting them that it’s just your first k-pop concert. You’re sure that’s what they mean anyways, as the experience so far has been quite different from your usual.

You look at the items in your hand, and then back at him. He offers to let you use his back to write on. You once again stare between his meticulous outfit and the sharpie in your hand. You are so not going to ruin someone’s day with what was supposed to be a kind gesture.

You motion for him to wait a moment and dig around in your own bag for a moment, the seat cushion Taylor had insisted you bring slapping you incessantly from where it hangs as you shuffle both your shoulder bag and Taylor’s backpack around. Eventually you manage to pull out your travel first aid kit, pulling a gauze pad from it.

You unclip the seat cushion from your bag and place it on the ground, motioning for Token Guy to kneel. He does so bemusedly.

“I’m gonna make it fancy,” You inform him, “those random calligraphy classes from high-school aren’t going to fail me today.” He makes a noise of assent and you’re crowding over his bent back, unfurling the gauze pad to make a barrier between the paper and his shirt.

He and the girls make their conversation around you as you sink into concentration. It’s very difficult to make nice, even, lines on an uneven surface like a back, and you have to keep gently slapping Token Guy’s shoulder when he laughs to remind him not to move.

Taylor and Merch Girl have returned by the time you finish your sign, Taylor laughingly cautioning any of them from breaking your concentration for anything less than Token Guy’s health. Unless they wanted to face your Wrath(tm), of course.

His advice seems to have been heeded, because by the time you tune back into the outside world you have a sign with very pretty (and most importantly - legible) calligraphy that reads:

[HAN! You’ve been assigned as my bias today! Make me fall for you?]

You even took the time to add Korean translations in smaller script beneath each line. You also take the time to admire your own foresight for laying out the gauze pad, small black marks littering it’s surface. Token Guy seems equally impressed when he looks at it, before taking the initiative to trash both it and the wrapper for you.

Merch Girl reads your sign when you proudly hold it in front of yourself and cackles.

“So that’s why he really brought you along, huh?” She teases, elbowing Taylor like they’re old friends. He has that effect on people. “She can talk to them for you if the Aussie line isn’t around.” Taylor gives a sheepish laugh and a faux-guilty shrug.

“That, and she bought the tickets. I couldn’t leave her behind if I tried.” He pokes at you as he speaks, mirth dancing in his eyes. Laughter erupts around the group as you shout your offence, making to start roughhousing with him like you do your sister.

The time passes joyously this way until the doors finally open to begin letting people in for sound check.

You’re not gonna lie, you’re already super tired and peopled out. Luckily, Taylor had clocked you flagging before even you had, and sent you to sit in “introvert time out” on your cushion in a shaded spot away from the crowd. So you could make it through sound check and the actual concert. Probably.

You and Taylor pass through security unscathed, having already eaten or trashed any snacks or drinks you’d brought with you, and having not bothered bringing much else. Both of your bags were just full of merch and freebies at this point.

Once you actually enter the venue you take the lead, dragging Taylor by the wrist to your seats. You’re actually super excited to show him the seats you’d gotten, having kept anything beyond ‘soundcheck’ a secret.

Taylor is already vibrating with excitement as you lead him to the floor seats. He’s nearly trembling as you lead him right up the center, past rows and rows of little white chairs erected for the reserved seating tickets. When you finally sit him down right in front of the thrust stage, plopping into the seat beside him with satisfaction, he turns to you with saucer-wide eyes.

“Noo...” He whispers.

“Oh, yes.” You return, blessing him with a grin and little eyebrow wiggle.

Taylor basically tackles you in a hug, almost knocking you into the person next to you, and squeals his thanks so loudly that you’re sure the entire stadium hears. When he’s done thanking you he pulls back, hands on your shoulders, with the most deadly serious eyes you had ever seen on him.

“I would die for you.” He intones lowly. You crack first, the two of you breaking into a giggle fit that was almost concerning with it’s intensity. When the two of you calm down and turn to settle and sit properly, he nudges your shoulder with his.

“Seriously,” He says, eyes soft, “You’re the best ever. You need anything from today on? I’m your guy.”

You chuckle at him, nudging him back, “Do my dishes for the next month, then.” You tease.

He rears back, hands up in joking surrender, “Woah, woah! Let’s not go that far! I meant if you needed to escape from the mob or something, not chores.” He gives an exaggerated shudder before breaking into his usual silly grin.

The two of you spend the next however long indulging in familiar banter, waving at the group of fans you’d made friends with outside when you spotted them not terribly far away, and generally recharging your batteries for the concert. Taylor eventually moves on to talking to the people around you, and you rest your head on his shoulder.

You close your eyes for just a moment, trying to turn the lights off in your brain for a bit. You really needed the music to start soon, you were going to fall asleep.

Almost as if in answer to your prayers, the group begins trickling on stage for sound check.

To be honest, both soundcheck and the concert pass in a blur for you.

Once things kick off, you’re swept away in a wave of cheers, music, and lights. You hadn’t expected front row seats to be quite as intense as they were, but you made a note to yourself to not book such tickets for yourself in the future.

You couldn’t really handle it.

Still, Taylor seems to have the time of his life, and you manage to immerse yourself in the concert enough to shake your sign at Han when he passes by, earning yourself a wink and a cheek heart. Taylor was nearly euphoric at having caught the interaction with his phone camera.

By the time it’s over, you’re fairly sure you had a good time, but also 100% sure that you were completely overwhelmed. Taylor manages to drag you to the send off that you paid for spots at anyway. Curse his charming, sunny demeanor.

You can’t really process how it happened at this point, but you end up practically pinned to the railing of the barricade at the send-off location, separated from Taylor, and clinging to your façade of an excited fan with a white knuckled grip. You have three things on you to get signed, and a mission from Taylor to get all three scribbled on.

Your sign for Han, a ballcap Taylor had customized, and a Lee Know photocard Taylor had entrusted to you with a gravity you weren’t sure it warranted. He had, like, three of the same one.

You try to drum up the determination to see your mission through, but find it difficult to dredge up any will at all.

Time waits for no man, however, and soon enough the members begin making their way through, delivering high-fives, autographs, and aegyo as they pass through. You end up squished almost violently to the railing, ducking a bit and making yourself as small as possible as hands, phones, and items all get waved around and over you.

You’re not sure you like send-off.

There’s so many noises and sights and smells that you have a really hard time keeping track of which member is where. Plus, you’re still a lot overwhelmed from lining up before dawn and the concert itself. You’re tired, you’re cranky, and you want to go home.

At some point Lee Know must pass by you, and you must have presented the photocard properly, because you have a signed one now. That’s cool. The faster you get the requested autographs, the faster you can leave.

Bangchan spawns in front of you from the aether, from your point of view. You may be a bit more out of it than you’d like to admit. Still, you dutifully hold out your ballcap for him to sign, exchanging post-concert niceties on pure autopilot.

Because you’re not all that present at the moment, or maybe because all you’d had was your breakfast and some granola bars in the last 13 hours, you don’t hold your balance the way you should when someone shoves at you from behind. You catch yourself on the railing, but you dropped the freshly signed cap.

Bangchan kindly stoops to pick it up for you, and you thank him. A couple of things happen very quickly at that point.

1) Unlike the first two exchanges of the cap, because of the awkward and quick nature of Bangchan’s action, it is no longer being handed to you with lots of space between your hand and his.

2) You’re still being jostled around. No matter how much you brace for the impact of the bodies surrounding you, you couldn’t possibly keep totally still.

3) These two things have a consequence. Your hand brushes Chan’s as he hands you the cap.

The world stops for you for a moment, as pins and needles stab into dozens of familiar spots all across your lower abdomen. You freeze, dumb, awkward, overwhelmed smile plastered to your face as Bangchan turns away from you.

The pain isn’t that bad, really, more like a bad period cramp mixed with a sleeping limb waking up. Still, you curl your arm around your stomach, and your body bows with the motion. As if you could protect your reality from shattering and reshaping itself in front of you.

Static fills your ears and your poor, overloaded, brain throbs with the beginnings of a migraine.

Bangchan is your soulmate.

International k-pop sensation Bangchan is one of your eight soulmates.

Bangchan is part of a group with eight members.

Your soulmate is already moving away from you, your minor interaction just a footnote of his day, the tingling pain of your soulmate bond awakening probably blending in with a thousand other minor aches and pains from a very physically intense day for him.

You come back to clarity with the resolve that you’d like it to stay that way.

With a sense of urgency, you look around the crowd you’re part of, noting distinct faces and colors for the first time. You’re not really sure what you’re looking for until you spot it, and suddenly your escape plan is fully formed.

There, just a couple shoves and elbow throws away, is Blue Bbokari Girl from this morning.

You struggle your way over, people falling into the space you’d left at the railing like a pack of hyenas on fresh meat. When you reach her you the gently at her sleeve to get her attention.

She turns to you with confusion first, a bright greeting next, and finally a concerned scrunch of her brow as she takes in your hunched form.

“Hey, I’m feeling kind of sick, can you help me get out of the crowd?” You’re sure you look convincingly pathetic and weak as you plead with her. If only because you really did feel pathetic and weak at the moment.

“Oh, of course, hun! Just a moment.” She begins to crane her neck around to scan the crowd like you’d done moments prior. You feel a bit bad for interrupting her night like this, but as she calls out to someone behind her, you’re more thankful than anything.

Blue Bbokari Girl successfully gets the attention of someone you don’t recognize, and a quick summary of, “She’s sick, help her leave!” shouted over the crowd has you being passed through the crowd unmolested.

You find yourself enveloped in a chain of fans, one passing you to another, pausing, and calling on someone else to pass you to until you’ve finally stumbled free of the send-off mob.

Feeling a bit like you’d just been spat out of the maw of a great creature, you look back at the rustling crowd, now looking like it had never been disturbed at all.

The last lady who had finally freed you, an older woman with a Jiniret picket, eyes you with concern as you put you back to the nearest wall and slide down it.

“Will you be okay, sweetie?” She questions you worriedly, “Do you have anyone to pick you up?”

You smile weakly at her and assure her that you just have to get ahold of your roommate and he’d get you home safe and sound. She tries to insist on waiting with you, but you persuade her to return to the crowd with promises that you’d make your way to a bathroom or security guard once the worst of your vertigo had passed.

You watch her return with morbid fascination, amazed when she just sort of gets absorbed back into the mass of people. Almost like it ate her. You once again marvel at making it out of such a thing unscathed.

Truth be told, your stomach was only sore and tender this point, the sharp, needle-point pains long gone. Still, you take a moment to bring your knees to your chest, just breathing as you press your forehead to them. If anyone were to look at you then, you wonder what they’d think of you curled up on the floor and trembling like your dog had just died.

You hope they’d view you with kindness.

After giving yourself a moment to just feel, though you couldn’t tell anyone what you had felt, you gather yourself enough to totter to your feet and drag yourself to the nearest bathroom. You text Taylor as you go.

[Hey. Felt sick, in bathroom rn. lmk when we can leave pls?]

Perma Tag List: @mbioooo0000

[graneymar]

Hiì, can you do a Neymar X fem!reader when she is an actress and she was nominated for an Oscar

(they are like 26-27, davi in this is reader's son so they have been together since they were teenagers and she gave birth when she was 17.

And they have a daughter too)

you could describe how the night goes, how everyone are loving them, and then at the end she wins too.

Him being super supportive, everyone loves them, they meet other celebrities..

add what you feel it's right!!!

thank you if you’ll do it!!❤️❤️And also, l'm sorry if something it's not very clear, but l'm not a native speaker!!

#4. NEYMAR: THE OSCARS [requested]

SUMMARY: above

WARNINGS: angst (a little)

PAIRINGS: Neymar x female reader

I was nervous as hell. Being nominated for an Oscar for my first big role after pausing my career for my husband and kids for almost ten years, I had a feeling this event wouldn’t go too well for me. Neymar, sitting next to me in the limousine, noticed how anxious I got and intertwined his hand with mine. Before looking up at him, I watched him hold my hand for a second. The moment our eyes met I let out a loud sigh. He smiled at me softly, "Don't worry amorzinha, no matter what happens tonight, you wouldn’t even be nominated if you haven’t done this good [sweetheart]." I nodded, knowing he was right. I bit my bottom lip as I was getting flashbacks. "I just don’t want to disappoint or even embarrass myself being too hopeful. Last time I checked everyone hated on me."

In fact, I was born to be in front of the camera. Since I was a little child, I got booked for commercials and roles in movies. When I was 14 years old, I even had my own show and became a rolemodel for many younger girls. Eventually, everything changed when I met Neymar. We were filming a commercial together and fell in love. I was only 16 years old when I found out I was pregnant. Neymar, who was my first boyfriend – now being my boyfriend for over a decade –, and I already had a hard time dealing with personal issues, but the media interfering as soon as they found about me carrying his child, made it a lot harder. I lost all my jobs. The reason? I got slutshamed, I simply was a shame. I should’ve been a better rolemodel to my younger fans, they wanted me to take responsibility. But how was I supposed to do this when I still was a kid myself. Neymar, on the other side, got praised for being such a good father to our son, Davi, who I gave birth to at the age of 17. They respected him for continuing his career as a football player and still being able to take care of his little family. How ironic.

Since I had to raise our son, follow Neymar around the world and no one wanted to work with me anyway thanks to my bad image, I fully gave up on my acting career and decided I would just dedicate my life to my son and boyfriend. And honestly, I never regretted it, not even for a second.

On Davis fourth birthday I found out I was pregnant again. God blessed us with another angel, our babygirl Luana. Neymar and I couldn’t be happier. We had each other, we had our children and enjoyed every moment we were able to share with one another. On the other side though, Neymar always felt guilty for 'ruining' my career. That was the reason he tried to motivate me to apply for some roles when the kids were old enough. I couldn’t even imagine myself acting again, I wasn’t that confident and sure of myself anymore. But being Neymars girlfriend, I got a lot of offers for promoting products on social media or filming basic commercials. I had a hard time realising Davi and Luana were growing up, going to private school and following their hobbies instead of their mother taking care of and playing with them all day, so at some point, I decided to agree on filming a commercial - and the unexpected happened. I got booked for small roles in shows and movies, until I got the main role in a movie I felt like would be very big and popular, and I was right about that. It seemed like almost everyone forgot about my past and started loving and respecting me again after seeing me in the movie, which led to me being nominated for an Oscar as the best actress. It still felt unreal to me. I never would’ve imagined I'd be able to act again, let alone being nominated for a fucking Oscar.

"Meu amor, all this happened over ten years ago [my love]. Trust me, the respect towards you for being such an amazing mother to two children at a young age and still having such a comeback must be immense." If he only knew how much I loved him.

We arrived and I checked myself out in the selfie camera for the last time before getting out of the limousine, Neymar following closely behind me. All cameras were directed as us, the flash lights not stopping for a second. Neymar grabbed me by the waist and pulled me closer to him, posing for some photos. Instead of giving my attention to the cameras that were shoved right into our faces, I couldn’t help but stare at Neymar and smile widely as I repeatingly thought about how lucky I was to have him by my side. After me watching him for a few seconds, he looked down at me. His lips formed a big grin. "Eu te amo [I love you]", he whispered before giving me a short kiss, causing me to blush and chuckle a little. The second his lips touched mine, we heard everyone cheering and "aww"-ing.

The moment the nominees for the best actress got called out I swallowed hard. I breathed in and out heavily when I heard my name. Neymar picked up my hand, kissing the back of it. I appreciated him putting in effort to help me calm down, but I felt the tears forming in my eyes as I got more nervous with every passing second. "I just want this to finally end and go home", I whispered to him, taking another deep breath. He was trying to stay positive for me, but looking into his eyes, his nervousness and worries were obvious and clear to me. My heart was racing, I swear I could even hear it’s beating. The winner would get announced now. My eyes shut down, I faced the ground. I didn’t want the cameras to catch my disappointed crying face. Why would I be sad anyway? Getting an Oscar never was anything I expected. Suddenly, I heard applause and inaudible cheering around me. Did she just say my name? I quickly looked up but was unable to realise what was going on. Neymar jumped up, hands clapping, tears of joy were visible in his hazel eyes. My mouth fell open. This had to be a joke. Impossible. "Parabéns bebê, I'm so proud of you [congratulations baby]", Neymar dragged me up from my seat and hugged me tightly, kissing my cheek. I felt hot tears streaming down my face. The speech I held was absolute chaos, crying and stuttering, but still expressing how grateful I was.

"Oh. My. God", Neymar stuttered. We were at the after party enjoying ourselves. His favorite actor of all time, Will Smith, walked up to us. "Ney, Y/N", he greeted and hugged us, "Congratulations! I was so relieved the second your name was called. Your acting was just… wow! You really deserve it." I had to hold myself back from fangirling and squeaking, getting such a compliment from Will fucking Smith himself. We did some small talk and continued meeting some more of our idols throughout the whole night.

Yes, I won an Oscar that night, but the real win was the man I had by my side - always supporting me, motivating and inspiring me to do what’s best for me and loving me unconditionally.

[newtonsheffield]

Can we please see Anthony and Kate reunion after Anthony comes back and wins the hunger games?

Oh it’s Dramatic

Anthony gets off the train in district 12, and his prosthetic leg still feels a little uncomfortable, his head’s still reeling from the fact that he won. It’s over. Even if he feels like he never left the arena. He can still feel the sword in his hands when he closes his eyes and his hands are stained with blood now. He hates that everyone might see him so differently now. They’ll know, he’s 17 and a murderer. Even of the cameras watched him kill the boy from 2 who had been the only person between him and freedom with tears in his eyes. His mother will look at him differently now, hopefully Gregory’s and Hyacinth are too young to fully understand what he’s done but there’s also Kate. He doesn’t want to see the look in her eyes. Even if she’d begged him for this, their lips finding one another’s desperately as they stood in the Justice building with peacekeepers outside the door.

“Come back to me. I don’t care what you have to do. Come home to me, Anthony.”

He’d been asked about Kate, in his Victor’s interview, someone must have told the reporters to find her when they did the district interviews. It could have been anyone. The entire district knows about them.

“You’ve been holding out on us, Anthony.”

Anthony had leaned back in his chair, grinning at the audience, playing off them, “Have I? Surely not, Caesar.”

“You didn’t tell us you had a girl back home.”

He hadn’t wanted to. He’d wanted to keep Kate for himself. But he’d smiled anyway, “Well I do.” He’d looked directly into the camera, “I kept my promise, Kate. I’m coming home for you.”

The audience had cheered and the entire capitol had fallen in love with them apparently. Not that he cared at all. Al he wanted was to feel her arms around him again, to feel the press of her skin against his.

He looked out on the crowd, the first time they’d had cause to celebrate the end of the games in living memory. No cause to wait for a train, wanting to give the grieving families privacy as they were handed back the body of a child who would never return home.

“Anthony!”

His heart stuttered in his chest at the sound of her voice, looking up to see Ben shoving through the crowd, making space for Kate and the rest of their family. She printed forward, and her body collided with his and finally he felt himself relax as her hands clasped at him, tracing the lines of his face, soft over the dark circles under his eyes.

“Are you alright?”

Anthony nodded, his forehead pressed against hers, their lips almost touching, “I am now.”

“I don’t care. Not about any of it, you’re back with me now.”

He nodded against her, his lips finding hers, “I told you I’d never leave you. No matter what.”

“No matter what.”

[knight-of-flowerss]

she-bear : chapter two

navigation | warnings : sexism, talk of battle | a/n : I did this at like half nine to half ten at night while being sick so sorry if it's bad😭 | wattpad | tags : @thethreeeyed-raven , @fangsp1der-2099 , @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom , @thelirofnorthlands , @naaladareia , @not-that-syndrigast

When I was young grandmother would tell my siblings and I about a castle somewhere in Norway. It's walls are tall and wide, drum towers on all four corners, stone bricks mossy and decayed, a lavish courtyard and a great hall that would be filled with mouth watering courses.

It took over thirteen years until it was fully built. They started when I was five, thirteen years later I'm eighteen, still patiently waiting to go to this palace of wonders.

And the time finally came.

It was Greta's tenth birthday, festivities at a high with young children running around playing games, their mothers and grandmothers talking in the corners of the hall while keeping an eye on their curious children and the fathers and the grandfathers all in the study, drinking fine wine and talking about business.

All of a sudden all of the fathers are back in the hall and the mothers are rounding up their unruly cattle, trying to get them to sit still as everyone sits at the long tables and face the long Godfrey family table that sits higher than everyone else's.

My mother and father walk to their seats as my siblings and I take our seats, trying to keep the birthday girl still. After everyone is seated my father stands up with a cup of wine in his hands, "Today I want to celebrate my lovely daughter, Greta, she is ten years old today and she is nearly a young woman. With that I would like to gift my family with a large present. As you know, Greta has always wanted to live in a castle, Elsa lost her husband a few months back and times have just been harsh and stressful with the battle between our prideful Duetschland!," [Germany].

People cheered at the comment on our great nation, spilling wine as they cheered, "And the sly, cunning Poland, the route of all our problems. They think that they can beat us? Win this war? They are crazy like a woman who thinks she can be as powerful as a king!"

Men laughed at the comment on women and Poland, the many Ladies sat with uncomfortable smiles on their faces. "As soon as we win this battle and burn the traitors of Germany, my family and I will be leaving our motherland."

A few gasps left the mouths of the guests as shocked faces flooded the hall, including me and my siblings faces. Greta squealed with joy and jumped out of her seat, running to our father, running into him giving him a big hug. "Oh thank you father! Thank you!," she pauses and looks up, "But father where are we going? England? The Netherlands? France? Denma-" Greta was cut off as my father put his large hand over my sisters mouth with a small chuckle as she just looks up at him.

"Now, now dear pearl," He looks up and smiles at the guests in the hall, "What have I said about interrupting me when I'm giving a speech?", "not to... sorry father..", "It is alright pearl, anyways, as I was saying, we will be moving away from our great country for the sake of my children and parents. We will be going to a place that my father holds dearly in his heart and wants to spend the rest of his numbered days there, as most of you have noticed, my mother and father are not present, that is because they are currently settling into our castle that has been getting built for the last thirteen years."

Mine and my siblings heads shoot up, looking at my father. Could he be talking about the castle in Norway? The one we used to play princesses and knights dreaming about? We waited in anticipation as he gave a smile to the crowd.

"We will be moving to Norway, on the outskirts of Kattegat, a major trade city with the infamous Ragnar Lothbrok being their old king but leaving due to his failed attempt in Paris, we will be living near a peaceful trade centre which will provide fresh food and remedies for my frail father as he battles his illness."

My siblings and I sat in shock as the tales from our childhood were coming true. A smile etched its was onto my face as a I dreamt of a new beginning in a place that is known worldwide for its story of how the small fishing town became one of the most famous trading cities in the world.

[acourtofthought]

I think the moment WE all found out the whoever runs Elain week was banning ships we knew the week would not really be about Elain.

And it is now an even bigger shit show watching how they are ignoring the problematic and racially insensitive comments the artist made. The art ITSELF was fine, but what she said and how she's doubled down is NOT, and then for the mods to support her and allow other elriels do encourage those comments should honestly be called out. I know they don't care, they are already refusing accountability and trying to make it about Gwynriel, when Gwynriel is not even a part of this fucking shit show. The truly can't help themselves in finding ways to turn this on Gwyn stans.

Anyways, here is what I think, El/riels are paranoid that the fandom will perceive their ship as the minority and that is why they make everything about Elriel, they can't even celebrate Elain as ELAIN without some passive aggressive, OUT OF CONTEXT cheesy caption that reads like a school girl writing in her diary for the first time about a crush on a boy who only thinks you are hot but could care less about your personality, and because you have no standards for yourself or too naive, find that attraction is all it takes to win you over. Even if the boy never bothered to ask you once, how your day was, or bothered to get to know you, because like who cares, he is a cute boy right?

They are shallow and their lack of depth and understanding to how SJM actually wishes for her couples to be equals, and fully themselves is their downfall. But jokes on them, it does not matter how much they push Elriel, Sarah does not give a fuck.

We don't have just one book of contextually evidence of the type of romance Sarah prefers, not even two, three of even 10, we have 16 books of fated mates as endgame, because that IS THE TROPE. Have they ever read any other books? You read enough romance books, it is easy to pick up on basic set up like this:

Character A is not wholly herself around Character B. Boy wants to only protect fragile FMC, they hold back who they truly are, especially their ugly side, maybe they trauma bonded when FMC was too scared and fearful of her destiny, but eventually when the FMC starts to embrace her fate, the relationship is doomed because the boy can't handle who she is becoming.... like where have I read that before? oh in several other popular series, from Fourth Wing, Shatter Me, The Mortal Instruments, like babes, the writing is on the wall, it's the most basic set up there is, Tamlin and Chaol also fit the bill of this archetype doomed romance, and they refuse to see it.

I bet good money if they read other books they would be team jacob, team adam, team stefan, team simon, team dain...I can go on and on. I bet they were team tamlin and chaol before the next books if they were even around then. They lack depth and understanding of the most basic romance types in a vast majority of books.

Az wanting to keep Elain away from danger is not romantic. It is sniffling her. Just like Dain did not want Voilet to train. Just like Tamlin did not want Feyre to train. Just like Adam wanted to keep Juliette from fighting. Stefan refusing to accept Elena for who she was becoming, wanting her to be the girl he first met, to Simon wishing things would have been what they once were, only to realize Claire never would be and learning their love was never meant to be romantic.

Like this is not hard.

I'll see your thoughts and raise you one.

I think even before the banning of ships we knew this wasn't actually going to be a true Elain week based on the history of Elain Weeks. Most character weeks reserve a day for relationship prompts but instead, this week has always been E/riel Week 2.0 run by E/riels who limit the amount of other content that's featured.

And I agree, it is sad to see that the sum total of many of these posts are simply fanart of e/riel with a quote from the book (i.e., how handsome they would be together) and that's the entire thing. Because Feyre thinking what she did back in book 2 (though she clearly was encouraging Elain to get to know Lucien in the novella) somehow is important to the ELAIN Home Prompt. Because Feyre's words should somehow dictate where Elain will be most at home, not Elain herself when the text in SF (the most recent book) clearly shows that despite Elain's attempts at doing her best to fit in, she really doesn't.

I was talking to Luna earlier and we had discussed how Sarah set up Nesta's story like this:

Nesta was in the NC but she refused to try to acclimate to the NC. She hid herself away, would not interact with the IC, would not engage with Velaris outside of the bars and taverns she visited, did not want to participate in the NCs holidays such as Solstice (and the exchanging of gifts). She was in the NC but kept herself removed from what made it the NC. It wasn't until her book that she began to try fitting in with the things around her she found her home.

In comparison Elain is in the NC and she's trying to fit in. She's trying to interact with Feyre's found family, trying to show interest in an available NC male within Feyre's circle, participating in the holidays and traditions of the NC, trying to make friends and find a purpose there. But despite Elain doing everything she possibly can to fit in, the text supports that something still isn't working. Cruelty still bothers her, the others still don't rely on her for anything, nobody is asking her about her trauma, nobody is asking her to train her powers, she's constantly sitting by the sunniest windows and losing her color in the winter, she barely laughed in SF. Elain is doing her best but no matter how much she gives, it's not going to be enough because she's NOT where she belongs. Versus Nesta, who finally gave in and began trying and realized she was where she belonged all this time.

But as you said, they are so fixated on such surface level things (they wanted to kiss!! Feyre said they'd be handsome together!) that they forget about the deeper, more meaningful aspects of Sarah's endgame pairings. And you're right, it will not matter how many fanarts they make, how loud they are within the fandom, it's not going to change what Sarah writes. Sarah has spoken time and again about what a toxic relationship looks like to her (Tamlin / Feyre), what a true connection for her looks like since she feels she has that with Josh, and she set E/riel up to look exactly like the Feyre / Tamlin romance did. Ignoring what kind of author she is and what relationships she prefers isn't going to help them. I think I'd have more respect if they said, "yes, I see where Az's behavior with Elain is problematic but I believe Sarah will have him made amends". But instead, they insist Az is so romantic towards Elain, that they share in true love. ?!$!$%#% WHERE????? You said it above but he does not have faith in her, he does not give her credit for anything she did in the war, he was not there for her during any of her arguments with Nesta in the last year. That is not love, not in any of the books you mentioned above and definitely not in a Sarah J Maas book. It's even more noticeable because of how she wrote Az reacting to Gwyn through the book, thinking on how far she's come, showing pride and admiration for her, believing in her. He isn't in love with Gwyn yet but those traits are a much more beautiful and solid foundation to build a real relationship on than talking about seeds, appearances and wanting to eat her out after avoiding her for a year.

Side note, I know you were saying Az is "stifling" her but the typo reads Az is sniffling her and I can't stop smiling because it's so funny when you read it that way.