#ella give me feedback

[whygodwhy69]

Golf Rivalry Lesbians: The Outline

Claire Donovan comes from a very privileged background and her parents are super intense. She has a crushing fear of failure (stemming no doubt from a concern of disappointing her parents). Uptight AF. Needs a chill pill fr. Very successful youth(/college) career → decent pro career but struggling to maintain highest ranking (or w/e). Constantly pushing herself past her limits trying to be the best. Trying to recapture success of her youth(/college) career. Disappointed parents are v v harsh – not helpful. Has a boyfriend who is also a pro golfer. He is pretty good but never had her previous success so he “doesn’t understand” her constant intensity for improvement. He’s actually an okay dude but lawd he preppy and bland and for god’s sake her parents fucking love him >:(

~*Enter the eventual love interest*~

Lauren (“Lo”) Jennings is fucking great at golf. She came outta nowhere on the pro circuit and has had a bunch of success. She’s so fucking relaxed– she gets to play a game for a living and has a lot of fun with it. She came from a poor background, got into golf via scholarship or something idk. Turns out she’s great at it. She gets all the endorsements and wins a bunch of tournaments. She is also a very nice person. So naturally Claire fucking HATES her.

(this is borne of jealousy and resentment; however, it will take a while for her to realize and accept that).

Of course they keep meeting at tournaments and each do well. Lo has more wins though because though Claire does fairly well, she struggles to actually win tourneys. So of course Claire blames Lo for this and becomes crazed determined to beat her… at the next tourney, Claire actually does super badly bc she is so focused on beating Lo that she totally falls apart. She’s pissed, her parents are pissed, everybody’s god damn pissed. Except Lo, she’s just chillin’.

So then boyfriend is like, uh maybe Lo isn’t actually the devil incarnate? And so Claire is like stfu we’re over. And boyfriend is like yikes ok

So obviously Claire is spiraling and lashing out and placing blame on the wrong people. At the next tourney Lo is like hey and Claire is like I swear to god I’ll fucking kill you and Lo is like who uh good luck in the tourney you seem stressed. If you ever want to talk about the pressure of being a female pro athlete with someone who understands I’m here 4 u

And Claire is like wtf I hate you get out of my face but now Lo is seeped into her mind in a different fucking way. 

Bc maybe she really isn’t the devil incarnate?

Fuck.

And maybe she’s really cute and kind?

FUCK.

Time to apologize for being a dickhead. Also maybe do some closer self-examination? Like why do I actually play golf? To make my parents happy? Because I had some previous success? Does it make me happy? It used to– when I had fun with it. Maybe I should try to chill and have fun playing. (Also am I gay what no never mind)

Well DUH she wins the next tournament bc she’s actually enjoying herself instead of just being super intense about everything. 

So Lo is like hey congrats and Claire is like whoops I was an asshole bc I was jealous of how successful yet chill you are and Lo is like oh dude I’m not chill at all I just go to therapy so I can balance myself out and grow as a person and Claire is like damn heart eyes emoji

And anyways they fall in love and smooch bc of course they do

Happy endings only over here babey

Also worked somewhere in there, Claire confronts her parents because she’s like you pushed me too hard and they’re like sorry we just wanted you to success and maybe we messed up and she’s like it’s okay but let’s all chill a little

Also also, at some point before her breakthrough, Claire straight up quits a tourney in the middle of hole bc she’s so overwhelmed by stress and trying to be the best and trying to beat Lo and her parents like berate her but maybe that’s when she confronts them?

Also also also, Lo is Very Obviously Gay™ but Claire has genuinely *no idea* because she’s a sheltered WASPy princess with no awareness of any other type of person. This will make her all the more confused about her stirring feelings for Lo. Yet she is fortunate bc at least Lo is already comfortably out and thinks she’s hot.

[hermetiqa]

When will you meet your future spouse?

Reminder: it doesn't matter if you saw this reading a day or a week or a month or a year after posting this. My readings are timeless. You'll see this when you're meant to see this and receive your message.

Close your eyes and take a deep breath before picking a pile. If you feel drawn to more than one pile, it's alright, you may take the piles that you're drawn to. What's important is to take it how it resonates and leave what doesn't.

PAID READINGS | TIP JAR | FEEDBACK

MASTERLIST | PLEASE HELP IF YOU CAN

NOTE: Please feel free to give me a feedback on my asks about the reading! I would highly appreciate it and it'll be a huge help for me to improve as a reader.

Pile 1

Hello, Pile 1! I feel like you'll meet your future spouse when you prefer to be alone and be away from all the people you already know. You might think of going to some camp alone and when you're getting together in the camp, you might have come up with the idea of using a different name when you introduce yourself because you intend not to share who you truly are. You might think of the names Ella, Lily, Alisha, Cindy, Helena. The spelling of the names doesn't matter, any alternative spellings or name variations could be in your mind too. You might even use an odd name, like a name known to be masculine such as Alex and George. There's a TikToker who keeps popping in my head right now, the one who has a Chloe Paddington bags and named her bags. You might have had this camp and name idea from her. I can see that your future spouse might be the one who would approach you first and start the conversation, and they really have a strong masculine energy here while you're the feminine one. I'm also getting an intuitive energy from you and you might have a feeling that you feel like you've known each other for a long time, even if it was really your first time meeting each other. You might be a fire sign and they could be a water sign, but you're quite compatible. It seems like you could have each other's sun in one's moon and/or ascendant.

Signs: dark/black hair, curly hair, brown eyes, dark/light academia fashion style, white loose button-down shirt, latino/a looks, speaks spanish and italian, campfire, marshmallows, trees, beach, seashore, lowtide, collecting seashells

Pile 2

Hello, Pile 2! As for you, I'm seeing a picnic that involves books and paintings. 01:01 on the clock right now. You might think of reading a book or doing a painting, specifically watercolor or oil painting, in the afternoon. You might do this alone in a park or somewhere that has a pond. To be more detailed, I'm getting that you might read a book in a park and would prefer to paint some place that has a pond with koi fish or water lilies so you can paint them. I'm getting the seasons spring and summer too. You could be an introvert and you often go to your comfort places to breathe and rewind. And your future spouse would notice you visiting the same place oftentimes. They could observe you for a while before approaching you as well. And I feel like they might ask you if they could join you to read a book or paint something. You might even exchange books and paintings. You might annotate each other's books and paint each other's paintings (you know the thing where you both paint something on your canvas and you exchange each other's unfinished paintings and add something, and so on).

Signs: dark/brunette hair, curly hair, blue eyes, strong jawline, downtown/retro fashion, long white skirts, baggy shirts, leather bag, doc martens, the secret history, if we were villains, ophelia, the lumineers, (curtain) bangs, wavy hair, booktok

Pile 3

Hello, Pile 3! I feel like you'll meet yours when you're doing some charity event or donating something. It could be related to dogs and/or cats, so you could be pet lovers. This might be an all-of-a-sudden decision because the charity/donation wasn't planned that much but I'm getting that you might meet there. You might organize the charity or help them organize and they'll help too, and you might do most of the work together. I'm also getting that this is when you're trying to become a better person and finally end your toxic habits. I feel like you have feminine energy but to other people, you show your masculine energy. You might think of getting something to eat together at lunch when you work together after a charity event, and this is when you'll start to know each other. You'll be interested in each other's interests and might think that you're compatible, and might suit each other. You'll be really fond of each other for a while which will lead you to some dates and hanging out a lot. I feel like you'll both reciprocate each other's wants and needs in this connection, especially with all the adjustments at first, but you'll be close friends even while you're dating, you might be comfortable to be around each other as if you're best friends.

Signs: blonde, blue/green eyes, wavy hair, daisies/flowers on hair, blue shorts, white and blue shirt, band shirts, casual fashion, flexible, gymnastics and ballet (during childhood), waffles, hotdogs, pizzas, medium hair length, straight hair, brown hair highlights, summer

[moviestarmartini]

la playa - jude bellingham x reader

" yo te lo hice a ti en la playa / justo al frente de la orilla / ella y yo no somo' nada pero solo entre comilla "

pairing: jude bellingham x latina!reader

summary: situationship!jude asked to spend the summer vacations with you. he's been looking at you with something other than his hungry eyes for some time now.

wc: 2.0k

warnings: really short instagram aus at both the beginning and the end, situationship where they both clearly fell for each other but won't discuss it, pet names in spanish, NSFW, semi-public sex, soft dom!jude if you squint, teasing, p in v, praise, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y'all), creampie, cockwarming, fluff (aka two big goofs in love).

A/N: i haven't written a fic in more than a year but i'm on break from uni and this man has been plaguing my every thought UGHH i'm also tired of january, it should be spring break already so i'm manifesting that energy into both this fic and the new year !! reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :>

now playing... la playa by myke towers

yourusername verano contigo 🤍

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, settling your phone down after the content had been uploaded.

You met Jude by spare chance. You’d been living in Madrid for a bit more than a year, occupied with your studies by the time the star boy reached the promised land. Jogging in Valdebebas at six thirty in the morning and having a black car pull up next to you was the way you were sure you were leaving this earth, instead finding a footballer asking for directions at the other side of the rolled-down window.

You easily discover the real reason later on. He was not lost, but had seen you around the residential complex; he’d only gotten the courage to talk to you after taking a big jug of coffee that morning, or so he claimed.

You’d noticed he had been staring at your glistening skin as you tanned your backside, but decided against commenting until the cheeky smile started to blossom. “Nothin’ “ He shook his head, but a tiny smile was half hidden behind his plush lips, giving away other intentions. The sun was so bright it was dazing, you’d sat under it for a while now hoping to darken your skin. The heat felt funny inside your tummy, similar to how Jude made your guts churn whenever he hooked your legs over his shoulders. “You’re sitting too far. C’mere.”

“Jude, mi rey, we’ve been holding hands the whole time I’ve been tanning.” You replied shortly, looking at him from behind your shades.

“Not close enough.” He practically whined, tugging at your arm with need, coercing you to get up and sit on his lap under the shade.

“Better?” You asked from your newfound place in his crotch, warm bodies coming in contact as you settled. You noticed him nod, his arm wrapping your waist in a way his forearm rested against your bare abdomen covering your belly button.

“Why won’t you post me?” His lower lip puckered out, eliciting a laugh out of you as you turned to face him briefly before turning towards the vast ocean in front of you. A small groan left his lips at the innocent movement.

After analyzing the vivid memory of his face, and thinking through your words, you spoke up. “Didn’t know if you wanted me to.” Once again, got comfortable in his lap. A sigh followed, coming from the man behind you.

“Have I ever told you how much I like that bikini on you?” Jude spoke after a minute or so of comfortable silence. You felt him toying with the drawstring of the bottoms. You could also feel something poking at your bare ass. “But not as much as I like you…”

“I think you’ve mentioned how you wanted to take it off.” Your voice barely came out; a mumble almost, ignoring the last sentence. Your heart thud against your chest, louder than it had done before when he questioned his presence— or lack thereof— in your vacation post. You peered around the area, only to find the waves crashing close to your beach beds’ location, and pearl-ish white sand spread for miles on end— just the two of you.

You felt him nod again, his chin brushing against your shoulder. Though he confirmed your suspicions of his true intentions, Jude’s hand didn’t undo the strap that held together the skimpy bikini. Instead, his fingers trailed the hem of the swimsuit, barely touching the warm skin. “Can I?”

The tone of his voice was low, the manner only brought goosebumps down your spine. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being eager, or at least the stupor of the hot day didn’t allow you to nod fast enough for you to look desperate. “You don’t know how happy I am to get you like this…” His hand sneaked under the piece at a painfully slow pace. Even though you knew what was going to happen, your breath got stuck in your throat.

“You always get me like this whenever you please.” It could be a complaint coming from anyone else, but it was just the reality of the situation. The relationship between you and Jude was… unclear. Feelings had been owned up to, but a title hadn’t been discussed. In fact, this was the first trip you tagged along; he asked you personally to do so. But you still decided against reading too much into it.

“You were saying, love?” Jude chuckled with malice, smirking at the way your skin prickled up at his touch applied to the bundle of nerves between your legs— which also spread involuntarily to give him better access. The way your words morphed with the moans and delirious sighs brought only further satisfaction to the British national.

“Don’t get all sassy with me.” You complained through a breathy laugh, eyes falling shut. His other hand trailed upwards your torso, to rest against your breasts and get straight into the task of cupping the left one first. The circles to your clit were steady, too steady for your liking. But still good enough to enjoy, and your moans let him know he was doing a stellar job. As per usual.

“What do you want, amor?” You managed to ask. Jude could’ve internally cursed, you knew him too well. A little too well for his liking. Instead of providing an answer, he pressed harder against your clit, the pressure catching you off guard, doubling down the attitude too.

“You,” Jude replied after what seemed years after he couldn’t take any more of your squirming. “Just you, all for me.” You could feel his stubble brushing against your shoulder before his lips pressed onto the length of your neck. It was all too much for you; the heat, the bright sun, the dryness settling in your tongue, his hands touching your body, his hard, clothed cock pressing against your backside, and the coil tightening in your lower stomach.

But he stopped.

Almost bewildered, you gasped, at the same time he undid the bunny ears that kept your swimsuit together. A smile crept onto your face as you turned to face him, thighs on either side of his hips. “You’re looking at me like that again.” You noted humbly, undoing the string of your bra. He couldn’t even formulate a response at the sight of your bare body, eyes scanning every inch, adoring the fresh tan lines.

“How could I not? You’re perfect.” Jude breathed out, leaning forward to catch his lips in yours. It was slow, but oozing with need and passion. You felt a pressure built up in your stomach, sparks, but you hesitated if he ever felt those around you.

“My perfect girl.” He breathed against your lips, hands holding onto your hips as he watched you undo the string that held his swimsuit tighter to his waist. He helped you pull the item down, barely resting at his upper thighs.

He leaned forward once again to catch your lips on his, letting out a tiny groan as you leaned further, just to tease him. “Kiss me,” Jude whined, stomach tightening at the firm grip around his shaft.

“Tranquilo, mi rey.” You cooed, working him up by rubbing his swollen tip on the warm and wet hole before finally sinking down his length. A pair of harmonious groans left both of your lips once you sat in his lap again, hips circling to get accustomed to the stretch.

“I can’t calm down when I’m obsessed with you.” Jude breathed out, large hands helping you steady the pace of your hips. He watched hypnotized by the way his cock disappeared in and out of your warm walls. His eyes were set, as though he wanted to train them to imprint the image in the back of his mind.

Your voice snapped him out of his trance. “Eyes up here, big boy.” The friendly banter defined your relationship; you often wondered if putting a label on things would make that disappear. But it was all just a wall to hide behind the adoration you felt for him, using it to dodge every compliment, in fear that none of his words were sincere. You could tell he wasn’t disappointed in the slightest when meeting your eyes, and the look you couldn’t pinpoint for the whole afternoon reappeared as he tangled his fingers in your hair and drew you right in for a kiss.

A kiss fierce enough to make you weak in the knees.

It was the perfect opportunity for Jude to accommodate his stance to start thrusting upwards, the sweetest noise he managed to squeeze out from the back of your throat was worth the tension in his core. Instantly, your back arched to give him the perfect angle. “I want you like this all the time…” He moaned into your mouth, hands on your hips to pin you down.

“Jude…” You mewled, the sound of skin coming into contact filling the empty air, harmonizing with the waves crashing near the beach spot you both occupied. You could feel your orgasm building rapidly, and Jude wasn’t foreign to the squeezing that built-up with every frantic thrust.

“C’mere doll, you’re doing so good f’me. Cum all over my cock, c’mon.” His voice was soft, the encouragement overlapping with his own groans of pleasure. He drew you into his arms, holding you close to his chest. Jude resisted the usual drawn-out teasing and mocking, now finding satisfaction in babying you as he slammed deep into you.

The string of incoherent babbles left your mouth shortly after his praises reached your ears. Jude closed his eyes to both contain himself from releasing at the way your pulsating walls were milking him so deliciously, but to also cherish the way your moans turned up the octave, nails digging into the sweaty skin of his bicep. Yet again, the heat you’ve been withstanding for the entirety of that morning hazed you, making a fantastic team with the warmth of Jude’s strong arms and the faded smell of his cologne mixed in with the salty air.

But all it took to push you right off the edge was a kiss. A single kiss pressed to your shoulder.

Your release consisted of a cocktail of your orgasm and a wave of realization crashing over you. You were head over heels with the man who was currently squishing your face against his buff chest, strong arms wrapped around your waist as he held you down. Groans and chants of your name replaced your meek moans and sighs, his cum filling you up. You allowed him the luxury of doing so every once in a while, and the dream-like stupor that enveloped your mind currently created the desire for him to do so.

The sounds of waves crashing filled the air once more, overshadowing the heavy breathing you shared. You stayed put, even cuddling closer to him as soon as the tremor left your legs. Time seemed to slow down, and you wondered how difficult the task of pulling away from him would soon be.

“Can I post you?”

Jude broke the silence, he’d been busy brushing your hair strands back into place upon the comfortable silence you’d set on. There was an arm still wrapped along the width of your waist. You pulled back to look him in the eyes, expecting to see playfulness in them, but finding a completely serious stare in return. “Since a certain someone won’t post me…”

“Oh, stop it!” You laughed, cheeks flushed at the idea. “If you think it's that great on an idea…” You puckered your lips while replicating his tone, cupping his face and planting a peck on his lips.

Jude smirked, licking his lips to chase the taste of you. But his eyes were soft, full of adoration. That look. It would blossom by just admiring your presence, or during one of his favorite activities– making you happy. “All I have are great ideas. Amazing, even.” He stole a peck off from you. You giggled, and a smile subconsciously peaked from behind his lips.

His heart flipped in his chest for the hundredth time that trip.

Jude, lost for words, just shook his head and reached for his phone. He started to wonder how a person could compete so easily with the grandiose, warmth and shine of the sun above.

But one peek down at you, snuggled up against him, answered all his questions.

judebellingham summer with you 🤍

A/N: used @ keilanilizbeth on instagram as the fc

and that pic on the left has me wishing i could match sambas with jude 😞😞

[leahssmile]

— ella

pairing: leah williamson x reader

summary: ever since she started dating you, leah has heard lots about your daughter, ella. but she hasn't met her yet, until now.

notes: this is my first fic so sorry if it's not the best, I'm still trying to figure out writing and stuff!! anyways – feedback and such is appreciated! take care, everyone! :)

Ever since you'd started dating Leah, she'd been eager to meet your daughter who you talked so much about, Ella.

You always seemed to have a new story or quip about your daughter to share with her, always with heaps of love and adoration piled onto your words.

However after being together for a few months you still hadn't introduced the two, much less shared a photo of the young girl with her.

Leah didn't push it, though. She understood that you wanted to take the relationship slow and didn't want to rush to introduce the two.

She was content with letting you decide when the right time would be for her to meet such a big person in your life, and until then she was fine with the details about you that you did share.

One such detail had been your desire to go to a new restaurant that had opened up a few weeks ago, the reviews had been great and you always complained there weren't any other good restaurants around where you lived that you could get your Italian food fix.

So Leah figures taking you out to the Italian restaurant for some pasta as your next date would be a great idea.

So after some planning and bringing the idea of a dinner date up to you, she books a reservation and impatiently waits for you to get off work.

She worries for a bit about Ella, if you'll be able to get someone to watch her on such a short notice, but you don't express any worries yourself so she figures you'd hire a nanny or get a teammate to babysit, so she doesn't dwell on it too much, more focused on making the date the best it could be.

She's already been seated at a table by the time you arrive, but she stands to greet you as a waitress directs you over.

After a quick hug she gestures for you to take a seat, noticing the vaguely tired look on your face as you take off your coat and slide into the booth.

“Everything alright?” She asks worryingly, wondering if work had drained you enough for a rescheduling of the date to be considered.

You quickly wave her worries away, taking a sip of your water before explaining, “Yeah, Ella was just rowdy all night so I didn't get a great night's sleep.” Leah nods understandably, reaching over to squeeze your hand across from the table.

You both smile, and shortly after your waitress arrives to get your orders.

The date progresses smoothly from there, the food and service is just as wonderful as Leah had hoped, and most importantly, you seem to be having a great time.

The mood carries outside of the restaurant as you both head to your cars parked next to each other, and just as Leah turns to give you a kiss goodnight you suggest a different plan.

“Do you want to come over to my place? Maybe meet Ella?”

Leah tries her best to hide her excitement at the offer, but her eyes still manage to light up and a smile stretches across her face as the prospect of you finally being ready to introduce her to Ella.

“Of course!” She says quickly, not giving her answer a second thought.

You burst into your own grin, giving a little cheer before hugging the footballer.

“Okay, you can follow me there, since we both drove here.” Leah nods, momentarily regretting her earlier choice to drive herself to the restaurant.

However the drive is short, and once she takes a second to calm herself she gets out of her car and follows you inside.

“Ella!” You call as you step into the house, and Leah tilts her head for a response as she makes sure to shut the door after the both of you.

She doesn't hear one, and she figures that maybe the girl was in her bedroom with the nanny, too far into the house for her to hear.

But after a moment, Leah hears the sound of scampering coming down the ball, and as she turns to see your daughter for the first time, readying herself to make a good impression, she freezes.

Because instead of a young girl, maybe with you eyes or other features, coming down the hall to throw her arms around you, a small brown puppy scampers into your arms, slathering your face with puppy kisses.

You giggle as the puppy jumps up and down, cupping its head to press your own kiss to its furry head. And as if to confirm Leah's confused and dumbfounded thoughts, you scoop it up and turn to her.

“Leah, meet Ella! Ella, this is Leah.”

You stand there for a second, the puppy extended in your arms towards Leah, who in turn stares dumbly as she feels herself start to grow red in embarrassment.

“I- this is so embarrassing.” She finally mumbles, moving her hands to cover her face as her shoulders sag in embarrassment and disbelief.

“What is?” You question, worry gathering inside you as you shift the puppy in order to place a supportive hand onto her arm.

Leah sighs, smiling weakly as she forces herself to look up at you. “I thought Ella was… I thought she was your daughter.” She finally gets out, feeling her cheeks heat up once more as she moves to cover her face again.

You try to hold back your laughter, but it pours out of you as you take in what she had just admitted, bending down to rest the puppy back onto the floor as you descend into giggles.

Ella nudges Leah's foot, and after a moment she finally looks down at the dachshund-looking puppy.

She has to admit, she is cute. And her eyes strangely do have a similar shine to yours.

And by the time you get all your laughter out she's sitting on the floor of the kitchen, rubbing the floppy puppy's tummy softly.

“I'm sorry.” You offer weakly, a small smile continuing to play at your lips as you join her on the tiles.

She sighs, lightly shaking her head. “Don't be, I don't know why I assumed she was a kid over a dog. Like who says their daughter needs to be house trained instead of potty trained?”

You chuckle, rubbing Ella between her ears. “To be fair, I have been told I sometimes talk about her like she is my daughter.”

It was what some called a bad habit, but it had never really been an issue until now. You just loved your puppy, she was your first pet, and the perfect one at that, so you loved to gush about her and everything she does to anyone who would listen.

“Well, she is a sweetheart.” Leah says after a moment, watching as the puppy climbs into your lap, contently curling up there.

She had always wanted a pup of her own, anyways, and she was happy she could share your love for your pup too.

[rylem33]

The Root of Malice

Here's a new one from me. I hope you enjoy! I've updated my blog homepage as there were some of my posts not showing. So head over there if you want to read any of my 100+ stories. And, as always, feedback is welcome. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ella sat comfortably in the campus library, nestled in a cozy corner. The scent of books lingered in the air as she flipped through another dusty find. 

Across from her, Sam leaned back in his chair, grinning as he scrolled through his phone. They had spent the last half hour quietly teasing each other, their occasional laughter breaking the usual silence of the library. Sam, ever patient with her whims, loved these little moments with Ella, even if they were spent surrounded by piles of books.

“Still looking through dusty old books, huh?” Sam teased, leaning over to glance at the weathered pages she was studying. “You sure you’re not secretly a witch?”

Ella smirked, gently nudging him with her foot under the table. “Maybe I am, and you should be careful—might turn you into a frog or something.”

“Good luck with that,” Sam chuckled, reaching across the table to give her hand a playful squeeze. “If I turn into a frog, you’ll be the one kissing me to break the curse, remember?”

Ella laughed, her soft blonde hair falling over her shoulder as she shot him a playful look. “I’d rather keep you as a frog. You’d make a cute one.”

He leaned forward with a grin. “You’d miss me too much.”

“Maybe,” she replied, her smile widening as their banter continued.

After a few more playful jabs, Sam finally set his phone down and leaned on his elbow, watching her with that familiar, affectionate gaze. “So, what are we thinking? Should we hit up the party soon? Some of the guys from class are already there. I promised we’d at least make an appearance.”

Ella glanced down at the open book in front of her—a curious old thing she had found tucked away in the back of a shelf. Something about it had caught her attention. The strange, faded symbols on the cover seemed to pull her in.

She looked back at Sam with an apologetic smile. “You go ahead, I’ll catch up. I need to finish up some research for my project.” She gestured at the book.

Sam raised an eyebrow, amused. “More research, huh? Only you would choose an old book over a party.” He leaned across the table, lowering his voice. “You sure it’s not a spellbook?”

She rolled her eyes, though her smile didn’t fade. “Fine, fine. Go to your party before I put a hex on you.”

He laughed, standing up and reaching down to ruffle her hair. “Okay, okay, I’m going. But don’t take too long. You owe me a dance, witch.”

Ella looked up at him, her expression softening. “I’ll be there soon. Promise.”

Sam paused, then leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her lips. It was sweet and tender, lingering for just a moment as his hand rested on her shoulder. “I love you, El.”

“I love you too,” she whispered, her heart warm as she gazed up at him.

With one last smile, Sam turned and headed toward the library door, waving over his shoulder as he disappeared into the hallway. Ella watched him go, her fingers absentmindedly running through her hair before turning her attention back to the book that lay open in front of her. 

She had been working on a research project for her psychology class—human behavior, specifically what drove people to be cruel. It was a fascinating, albeit dark, topic that had captured her interest for weeks. Ella had already sifted through academic papers and case studies, searching for answers to the age-old question of what made some people malicious while others leaned toward kindness. 

Her project had been focused on clinical explanations, theories of aggression, and the societal factors that could lead to cruelty, but in her search through the library’s shelves, she stumbled upon this peculiar book, tucked away in the farthest corner of the psychology section. Its worn cover had no title, and its pages were brittle. But the strange thing was its content—a brief mention of something called the Root of Malice, an idea that didn’t quite fit with the modern research she’d been reading. It intrigued her, and though she had no real reason to follow this particular lead, curiosity had taken hold.

Ella flipped through the delicate pages, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the odd, archaic language scrawled across the parchment. Some of the text was faded and difficult to decipher, but every so often a word would leap out at her—malice, cruelty, darkness.

The further she read, the more she could feel something… off. The air around her seemed to grow heavier. Her fingers seemed to tingle as they brushed over the worn pages. 

As she reached the middle of the book, her breath caught in her throat. There, filling an entire page, were strange symbols around an elaborate picture. They weren’t like anything she’d seen before.

Ella whispered the unfamiliar words aloud, struggling to pronounce the strange syllables. “Anhar oza seltor…”

The moment the last word left her lips, a sudden heaviness descended upon her. The air around her seemed to thicken, pressing down on her chest, making it hard to breathe. Her vision blurred as a wave of dizziness washed over her, the room tilting slightly as if the very ground beneath her had shifted.

She tried to stand, her legs trembling beneath her, but the heaviness intensified. Her fingers curled tightly around the edges of the table for support, the world spinning too quickly for her to make sense of it. Every movement felt slow and labored, like she was moving underwater.

And then… everything went dark.

Ella’s body slumped in the chair, a faint sigh escaping her lips.

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

When she awoke, it was as if no time had passed at all. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, everything felt disjointed. She blinked, disoriented, the blurry outlines of bookshelves and the faint hum of fluorescent lights slowly coming into focus. The library was quiet.

The heaviness was gone.

Ella sat up slowly, her hands gripping the arms of the chair for balance as she took a deep breath. Her head no longer spun, and the crushing weight that had overtaken her just moments before had vanished entirely, replaced by an odd sense of calm. She felt… fine. Completely fine, actually. 

Had she fainted? She didn’t feel weak or sick. 

She glanced down at the book, its pages still open to the strange symbols she had tried to read aloud. An odd shiver went down her spine.

The clock on the wall caught her eye. I should just call it a night.

She let out a shaky breath, the unease in her chest slowly subsiding as she closed the book with a soft thud. Sam would be waiting for her at the party, and the thought of seeing him was a welcome distraction after… whatever that was.

“I’ll come back to this later,” she muttered to herself, sliding the book to the edge of the table, feeling more relieved than she cared to admit. Research could wait. She needed to shake this off, clear her head, and enjoy herself tonight.

Ella grabbed her bag and stood up, the usual lightness returning to her steps as she headed for the library exit. Everything felt normal again, but a small voice in the back of her mind wondered why she had fainted at all.

She pushed the thought away, forcing a smile as she stepped into the cool evening air. It’s fine. I’m fine. Sam would laugh at her when she told him about her strange experience, and that was exactly what she needed right now—just a fun night to forget about the bizarre pull of that book.

As she walked toward the party, the memory of the symbols started to fade, and with it, the heaviness that had briefly weighed her down. Everything was normal. Everything was fine.

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Ella left the library feeling oddly energized. By the time she arrived at the party, she was in high spirits. She moved through the crowded house, smiling at familiar faces, her attention focused on finding Sam. She scanned the room but couldn’t spot him immediately.

It’s fine. I’ll find him eventually, she thought, a slight smirk playing on her lips. Normally, she’d feel nervous or self-conscious, but tonight was different.

A girl she recognized from one of her classes waved at her. “Hey, Ella!” she called out with a warm smile. Ella returned the wave, moving to approach her, but the moment she did, a sharp, searing pain shot through her head. She gasped, clutching her temple.

What the hell?

The pain faded as quickly as it had come, leaving her standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. She tried to ignore it, taking another step toward the girl to say hello, but the stabbing pain returned, worse this time, as if something was trying to force her away from doing it.

She stopped, panting softly, the pain slowly subsiding. What’s going on?

But then, as she turned away from the friendly girl and bumped into a guy who accidentally spilled his drink on her arm, a flash of anger surged through her. “Watch where you’re going, asshole,” she snapped, pushing him back slightly.

And then it hit—a wave of pleasure so intense it made her shiver. Her whole body tingled as a warm, satisfying sensation flowed through her. It felt… incredible.

She blinked in shock, standing still as the rush of pleasure slowly ebbed. That felt… good.

Her fingers brushed against the spot on her arm where the drink had spilled. Normally, she would have apologized or brushed off the situation entirely. But being rude—no, cruel—had felt amazing, like she had tapped into something new. Her lips curled into a small smile as the realization sunk in. When I’m nice, it hurts. When I’m not… it feels so damn good.

She moved through the party, her mind racing. Every time she considered doing something kind or polite, like offering someone a smile or holding the door, that sharp, throbbing pain returned. But when she deliberately knocked into someone, or made a snide comment under her breath, the pleasure would return, flooding her senses. She couldn’t help but want more.

Finally, she saw Sam across the room, talking to a group of people by the bar. Her heart should have leapt at the sight of him, but instead, a cold detachment settled over her. She strode over, her steps confident and purposeful, feeling a thrill building inside her.

“Hey, babe,” she said casually, sliding up next to him. Sam turned to greet her, but as soon as he saw her, his face froze.

“Ella? What happened to your hair?” he asked, confusion lacing his voice.

Her hand instinctively went up to touch her hair. “What?” she asked, more out of annoyance than confusion. But the second she tried to explain or reassure him, a sharp pain spiked in her temple. She winced, her teeth gritting against the sensation.

“I—I don’t know,” she stammered, frustration building inside her as the pain pulsed.

Sam’s concern deepened. “Are you okay? You’re acting really weird.”

“I’m fine, okay?” she snapped, and just like that, the pain disappeared, replaced by another surge of pleasure. It was intoxicating, almost euphoric.

Sam blinked, surprised by her sudden outburst. “Ella, I’m just trying to help—”

“I don’t need your help!” she spat, the words spilling out before she could stop herself. The pleasure hit her again, hard, coursing through her veins like a drug. Her pulse quickened, and she realized she wanted more. Being cruel… felt good.

Sam stepped back, his face hardening. “Fine,” he muttered, his voice cold. “I’ll give you space.”

Ella’s chest tightened, the remnants of the old her stirring within, urging her to say something, to explain. Tell him it’s the spell. But she couldn’t. The moment she tried, the searing pain would shut her down.

Instead, she stood there, feeling the thrill of power and control surge through her as Sam walked away. Her hand trembled slightly as she ran it through her hair again, the unfamiliar black strands slipping between her fingers.

Ella watched Sam walk away, her chest heaving as the anger bubbled beneath the surface. Her eyes followed him as he disappeared into the crowd, but instead of the sorrow she expected to feel, there was only a hollow coldness. The part of her that used to care felt distant, almost unreachable. All she could focus on now was the raw energy surging inside her, the anger swirling.

Her fists clenched at her sides, the pleasure from snapping at Sam still pulsing in her veins like a warm, addictive buzz. Why did it feel so good to push him away? That thought should have terrified her, but it didn’t.

“Ella? Hey, Ella!” A familiar voice broke through her thoughts. She turned to see Claire, one of her oldest friends, weaving through the crowd toward her. Claire’s face was creased with concern, her eyes darting nervously between Ella and the direction Sam had gone. “I just saw you with Sam… Are you okay? You look upset.”

Ella blinked, the remnants of her old self stirring beneath the surface. Claire had always been a good friend, someone who cared. Ella knew she should be thankful—she should be kind, explain things, apologize for how she was acting.

But as soon as she opened her mouth to speak, the pain struck again. Hard. A white-hot spike of agony shot through her skull, forcing her to grit her teeth and clutch her head. The kindness she’d tried to summon was immediately snuffed out, replaced by the growing rage that had been festering since she arrived at the party.

The pain vanished, and in its place, a surge of blissful pleasure rolled through her body. The sharpness of it nearly made her gasp. She lowered her hand slowly, her dark eyes narrowing as she looked at Claire.

“Am I okay?” she repeated, her tone dripping with disdain. “Why the hell wouldn’t I be?”

Claire blinked, taken aback by the venom in Ella’s voice. “I just… you seemed upset with Sam, and I—”

“What? You think I can’t handle my own shit?” Ella snapped, her voice louder now, catching the attention of a few nearby partygoers. “I don’t need you, or anyone else, swooping in like I’m some pathetic damsel who needs rescuing.”

Claire’s eyes widened, her expression quickly shifting from concern to confusion. “Ella, I didn’t mean it like that. I just—”

“Shut up, Claire,” Ella cut her off sharply, the pleasure now a steady hum beneath her skin, fueling her words. It felt incredible. With each cruel comment, the pain in her head lessened, and the rush of power intensified. “Do me a favor and mind your own business for once. Maybe that’s why you’re always clinging to me like some desperate little puppy—because you can’t even keep your own life together.”

The hurt that flashed across Claire’s face was immediate, her eyes going glassy as she struggled to comprehend the sudden cruelty. “Ella… what’s going on with you? This isn’t like you.”

Ella tilted her head, a slow, wicked smile spreading across her lips. “Just fuck off,” she said, her voice almost electric. The thrill of seeing Claire’s discomfort—the way she was shrinking back—sent another wave of pleasure through Ella, and she felt herself reveling in it. Why had she spent so much time being nice when this felt so damn good?

Claire took a step back, clearly shaken. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but I’m not sticking around to find out,” she muttered, her voice trembling before she turned and hurried away, glancing back only once with a look of both fear and sadness.

As Claire disappeared into the crowd, Ella’s body hummed with satisfaction. She stood there, feeling a strange mix of triumph and hunger. She had liked that. The power. The control. Watching someone crumble under her words had been exhilarating.

She glanced around the party, her mind still buzzing, her body craving more.

Ella’s pulse quickened as she watched Claire disappear into the crowd, the rush of power still humming beneath her skin. She had never felt this way before—so alive, so charged with energy. She didn’t want it to stop.

Her eyes scanned the room, searching for her next outlet. That’s when she noticed him—a guy standing against the far wall, staring at her. He looked like he was trying to play it cool, but his gaze lingered a little too long, and Ella could feel the pull of his attention. He was tall, with dark hair and a cocky grin that seemed to falter when she locked eyes with him.

A smirk curled on her lips as she started walking toward him, her hips swaying with purpose. He straightened up, watching her approach, clearly not expecting her boldness.

Without a word, Ella reached him and, with no hesitation, she raised her hand and smacked him hard across the face. The sharp sound echoed through the small space, and the guy’s head snapped to the side. A murmur of shock rippled through a few people nearby who had seen the sudden act, but Ella didn’t care. She felt a surge of pleasure—intense and almost dizzying—pulse through her at the sight of his stunned expression.

He blinked, his hand flying to his cheek as he looked back at her, confusion and a strange mix of attraction swirling in his eyes. “What the hell?” he started, his voice low, but before he could say anything else, Ella stepped in close, her body pressing against his.

“Shut up,” she whispered, her breath hot against his skin.

Then she kissed him. Hard. Her mouth crashed against his, open and aggressive, her tongue forcing its way past his lips as she took complete control. He hesitated for a split second before kissing her back, clearly turned on by her wildness, though completely unsure of what had just happened. His hands hovered near her waist, unsure whether to touch her or not.

Ella bit down on his bottom lip as she pulled away, not enough to hurt, but enough to leave a sting. He winced, a small groan escaping his mouth as his eyes met hers, filled with a mix of desire and bewilderment.

She leaned in close, her lips brushing against his ear. “Don’t stare at what you can’t handle,” she whispered, her voice low and dripping with menace. She stepped back, licking the taste of his blood from her lips as she watched him, still dazed and turned on, staring at her like he didn’t know whether to run or beg for more.

With a final, cold smile, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving the guy standing there, clutching his lip, his eyes wide with confusion and raw lust.

Ella laughed softly, a dark, twisted sound that sent shivers down her spine. The pleasure coursing through her was like nothing she had ever felt before, and she wanted more. More of the power. More of the control. More of this dark, intoxicating version of herself that had been hidden for so long.

But then she saw him. Sam.

He was standing near the bar, his eyes locked onto her from across the room. His eyes looked hurt, wet, heartbroken

For a split second, something in her chest tightened. I should explain… I should—

The thought barely formed in her mind before an intense bolt of pain ripped through her skull, so sharp and sudden that it nearly knocked her off balance. She gasped, clutching her head as the pain shot through her temples, worse than before. It felt like her mind was being torn apart. Every attempt to reach out to Sam, every impulse to apologize or explain, was met with a violent surge of agony that made her stomach twist.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, biting down hard to suppress a scream. The pain throbbed, forcing her to let go of any thought of being kind or soft. No. Not kind. Not good.

The pain was too much.

So instead, Ella sneered, her lips curling into a wicked smirk as she slowly raised her hand. Without breaking eye contact, she flipped him off, her middle finger raised high, a silent, defiant message of finality. The action sent a new wave of satisfaction coursing through her, the pleasure intoxicating and powerful.

He didn’t deserve an explanation. Not anymore.

With that, she spun on her heel and stormed out of the party, her pulse pounding in her ears. As the night air hit her face, a slow, dark grin spread across her lips. 

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Ella walked through the empty streets, her mind flush with anger, desire, power. The rush from flipping Sam off, the look on his face as she left him standing there, confused and heartbroken… it felt so right, so thrilling.

Her feet carried her to the library before she even realized where she was headed. It was late now, long after closing time, the large wooden doors locked tight, the building dark. But Ella didn’t care. She felt a pull—a strange connection to the book she had found earlier, the one that had started all of this. She needed to get back to it. She had to.

Approaching the front entrance, she tested the doors, rattling the handles, but they didn’t budge. She could see the book in her mind, calling to her, and the locked doors only fueled her frustration. The sharp pang of disappointment flared briefly in her chest, but then a thought—no, an urge—took over. Why follow the rules? Being bad had felt good so far, hadn’t it?

Without hesitation, she picked up a heavy stone from the nearby garden bed and hurled it at one of the tall windows. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the empty streets, and the thrill that followed was immediate, sending a jolt of pleasure rippling through her body. Yes.

She climbed through the broken window, not caring if she cut herself on the shards as she dropped onto the cold floor inside. The thrill of destruction pulsed through her, making her heart race with excitement. The more she disobeyed, the stronger she felt. It was exhilarating.

The library was dark and still, the only sound the faint echo of her footsteps on the old wooden floors. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light as she made her way back to the nook piled with her books.

There it was, lying exactly where she’d left it on the table, almost as if it had been waiting for her. She reached out and picked it up, the leather-bound cover cool against her skin. As soon as her fingers touched it, she felt a surge of energy.

She turned to a page, as if on auto-pilot. It was covered with strange symbols that seemed to glow in her eyesight. Though they were still foreign to her, she understood them instinctively. The spell on the page hummed with power, and it seemed to call to her, as if it had been waiting for her to store enough of dark energy to unlock its potential.

Ella’s heart raced. She knew what to do. She had enough—enough anger, enough cruelty, enough bad energy stored within her. And now, she was ready. Ready to unleash it.

She took a deep breath and began to whisper the words on the page, her voice low and steady. As the words left her lips, the energy inside her shifted, swirling and building into something more, something darker.

The symbols on the page glowed brighter, their light wrapping around her like tendrils of shadow, weaving through her fingers and up her arms. Ella’s body tingled, her heart pounding as the spell consumed her. She could feel the darkness pooling inside her, growing stronger with every word she spoke.

And then, with a final, whispered phrase, the energy exploded outward. 

A violent surge of energy erupted from within her, enveloping her in a cocoon of dark, swirling shadows. 

Her body trembled as the energy coursed through her veins, reshaping her from the inside out. Her soft, delicate features contorted, hardening with sharp edges as her skin began to glow with an unnatural hue. The sensation was both painful and intoxicating, like every nerve in her body was on fire, but the pleasure of it was overwhelming. She welcomed it—craved it.

Her hair, once a shimmering black, lengthened, flowing in dark, glossy waves down her back like a river of shadow. It thickened and twisted with a life of its own, framing her face as if the darkness itself was molding her into something more than human. She could feel her body shifting, her curves becoming more exaggerated, more seductive, every inch of her screaming power and allure. Her waist narrowed, her hips flared, and her breasts swelled, the intricate black lace-like designs crawling up her skin, wrapping around her like living tattoos. They moved, shifting and changing, merging with her skin in beautiful, haunting patterns.

Her hands flexed, the delicate fingers elongating, nails sharpening into blackened claws, gleaming with a predatory sheen. The feeling of control, of sheer dominance, flooded her senses. Her eyes, once wide and soft, darkened into pools of shadow, glowing with an inner crimson fire that burned with malevolent intent.

As her transformation reached its peak, two large, obsidian horns erupted from her skull, curving upward like a crown of dark power. They were sharp and imposing, exuding a terrifying majesty that made her feel like a queen—no, a goddess of the damned. A mask, forged from the very darkness surrounding her, materialized over her face, intricately designed with a skeletal, demonic beauty, making her look like a nightmare made flesh. The cold metal pressed against her skin, but instead of discomfort, it brought her more pleasure—more power.

And there she stood—no longer Ella, the sweet, quirky girl who once cared for kindness and love. She was now the embodiment of cruelty, of power, of unstoppable evil. Every ounce of the “bad” energy she had absorbed had transformed her into this—into a being of sheer dominance and destruction, a force that would be unleashed upon the world.

Ella looked down at her new form, feeling the raw power surging through her with every breath. The pain, the confusion—it was all gone, replaced by an unrelenting hunger for chaos, for cruelty, for conquest.

She smiled, her fanged teeth glinting in the dim light. She was Malice and the world had no idea what was coming.

[an0ther1]

Untitled

Leah x OC

This is the start of something Im playing around with. Feedback is appreciated, or ideas/suggestions.

She took one last look in the mirror. It was just dinner with a friend, but being a public figure meant more eyes were usually on her than most. A pair of comfortable designer jeans she had gotten from a photo shoot and a maroon fitted jumper made it look like she wasn’t trying too hard without looking like she didn’t care at all.

She tousled her hair one more time before grabbing her phone and heading to the door to grab her black winter coat and purse. The restaurant was only a few blocks from her place so it wasn’t worth the bother to drive. She didn’t mind the walk either, some of the houses on her street always went all out with their light displays and holiday decorations. Tonight was the first chance she got to walk by and enjoy them.

She was around the corner from the restaurant when her phone went off with a text notification. Even before she pulled it out of her pocket she knew what it was going to be.

Lessi: So sorry Lee, can’t make it tonight. Can we reschedule for later this week?

“Really Russo.” Leah said under her breath as she continued walking. She should have known Alessia was going to cancel. United was in town, which meant Ella was in town, and Alessia always ditched plans with others to hang out with her best friend instead. At least the last time this happened she gave a few hours advance notice. Not 5 minutes before they were supposed to meet.

Lee: Yeah, that’s fine. Tell Tooney I said hello, and I would appreciate it if she could put a few in against Chelsea tomorrow.

Leah stepped into the restaurant and headed for the bar. If she was going to be dining solo, there was no need to get a table. At least at the bar top her back was to the other patrons and she could enjoy a meal in relative peace.

The restaurant wasn’t terribly busy, but there was only one open seat at the bar. Thankfully it was at the end so she would only be sitting next to one stranger instead of being sandwiched between two. Leah crossed her fingers that the guy she was about to sit next to didn’t try and hit on her all night.

“This seat taken?” She asked politely walking up behind the seat.

“Nope. You’re more than welcome to it. Let me scoot over and give you a bit more room.” The person replied in a very obvious American accent and a deep but distinctly feminine voice.

“Oh.” Leah was caught off guard by her incorrect assumption. “I appreciate that, thank you.” She told the person as she took off her coat and placed it on the back of the chair.

After she was settled, a waiter behind the bar walked up. “Ms. Williamson, pleasure to see you again.” They said as they handed her a menu. “Start you with a drink?”

“Thank you. Glass of chardonnay, please.”

“Sure thing.” They said and then headed back down the bar.

“Regular here, huh?” The person next to her asked as they took a sip of their drink without looking in her direction.

“Not really. Only been in a few times.” She replied quietly, not really wanting to drawn much attention to herself.

“Ah, then clearly they watch women's football. As they should.”

And clearly this person knew who she was too.

“Mmm, yeah, I guess.” Was all Leah said in response.

There was silence after that, the stranger going back to their drink. They had their phone propped up on the bar watching what Leah guessed was a replay of the U.S. game against China PR from the week prior.

Leah couldn’t help herself. “What do you think of the Emma Hayes move?”

The stranger turned and faced her for the first time and Leah was struck by piercing blue eyes. Their hair was light brown and cut in a more masculine style, buzzed on the sides with the top longer and brushed back and towards one side. They had a strong jawline, but the rest of their features were what Leah would describe as soft almost. The perfect balance of masculine and feminine. Definitely not Leah’s type, but she wasn’t blind, they were very attractive.

“I think we’ll finally start utilizing the talent we have properly and stop banging our head against a wall repeatedly doing the same thing when it obviously doesn’t work. And I’m not naive, things aren’t going to change overnight. We have a young group we’re still trying to get together on the same page, but maybe they’ll all start going in the same direction at least.” The stranger finished.

“So you weren’t a fan of Vlatko I’m guessing?”

“Absolutely not. He was boring, soft, his lineups and tactics were questionable at best. I didn’t like the hire from the get go and I think he was there too long.” The stranger took a sip of their drink. “I think the powers that be got a much needed reality check. We can’t accept mediocrity and still expect to win. The women’s game has changed. Other countries are finally starting to invest in their women’s programs and youth levels bit by bit, and they are coming for the US, Germany. Being a top 5 team in the world doesn’t mean your success is a guarantee like it might have in the past.”

The waiter walked over then with Leah’s wine. She gave him her order, not bothering to even open the menu, just ordering the same chicken dish had gotten the last time she was there.

“What do you think of the move? Has a bit of an impact on league and country. Her leaving one rival and going to another so to speak.” The stranger asked over her glass before taking another sip.

“Oh, umm. It is quite the shake up. I admit I’m curious who will fill her role at Chelsea. But I’m not sure I have much to say about her taking over the U.S. team. At least not at the moment.” Leah really wasn’t looking to get into any type of potential disagreement or the like with an American about their countries football team. Keeping neutral was best.

“Fair enough.” The stranger gave a slow head nod and turned back to the game on her phone.

Leah took a sip of her wine and watched the game over the strangers shoulder. They must of had a 6th sense because they moved their phone in between the two of them without a word.

“They’re definitely disjointed. Struggling to connect between the defense and the attackers. And they can’t seem to string more than 3 passes together before they lose it.” Leah let her thoughts roll out.

“Like I said, not on the same page. There are a lot of fresh faces, which I love. But they need more time together for sure. That would help with the fluidity issue. They still need to get used to Sonnett playing the 6. I think her energy in the middle still catches some of them off guard. The speed of Thompson is hard for some to keep up with and anticipate what she’s trying to do. There is just a lot of change.” The stranger replied without so much as a glance in Leah’s direction.

It was oddly comfortable talking to a stranger about football as if Leah wasn’t really a part of that world. This person wasn’t asking her about her injury recovery, wasn’t asking or saying anything that actually had to do with Leah in any way. It was a rather nice change from her usual encounters with strangers who knew who she was and what she did for a living.

They continued watching the game in relative silence, just throwing out random comments about a play or player sporadically until Leah’s order arrived.

The waiter placed the plate in front of Leah on the bar. “Anything else I can get ya?” He asked.

“No, I think I’m alright for the time being. Thank you.” Leah gave him a polite smile.

The waiter turned to the stranger. “Another round RJ?”

“Nah, I think I’m good Colin.” The stranger pulled out their wallet and laid a bill on the bar top. “You know the drill.”

Colin, the waiter, let out a hearty laugh. “Yeah, yeah. Keep the change. You keep tipping me like this I’m going to have to start buying your rounds.” He waved the bill at her. A £50 note.

“I might let you do that. Once. But we’ll see.” The stranger, or well, RJ as the waiter had called them, got up from their chair and began putting on a camel hair coat that had been laying over the chair.

As they buttoned up their coat, Leah could help but notice how tall they were. The waiter looked to be about 6 foot, and RJ didn’t seem too far off in comparison.

“Ms. Williamson,” RJ broke Leah out of her mental calculation on their height. “It was very nice to meet you. Maybe we’ll see each other around sometime.”

“Oh, yes. It was nice to meet you as well, umm RJ?” Leah questioned. Not sure if she was to call them that or not.

“Enjoy your meal.” RJ bowed their head slightly, turned and walked away.

“RJ’s an interesting one.” The waiter said as they picked up the empty glass and wiped down the surface where RJ had been seated.

“How’d ya mean?”

“They have a drink or two, and then always hand over a £50 note. Won’t accept change even though the tab is usually less than £20.” He shook his head.

“Are they a regular?” Leah asked.

“Not sure if I would call them a regular just yet. They only moved from America about a month and a half ago, they said. Some digital job of some sort.” He shrugged. “Just holler if you need anything else.” He turned and headed back down the bar.

[cockslutpadalecki]

All For You

Summary: You’ll never be able to tell Jake just how broken you truly are without him. Just how much you still love him. And the constant cycle of pushing him away before begging for his touch at 2am will never end until you can.

Characters: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x F!Reader.

Words: 2.4K.

Warnings: heavy angst, smangst, lots of sexual tension, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), 18+. MINORS DNI.

A/N: Only six months late to the Jake bandwagon, but here we are. Based off song of the same name by Cian Ducrot Ft. Ella Henderson (definitely worth giving it a listen). Jake’s POV is in first person. Beta: @princessmisery666 but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Please support our content creators by sharing our work.

You know it’s a mistake the moment he picks up. His familiar deep husk that’s indicative of waking from a deep sleep. It stirs something inside you that you haven’t felt in so long that you almost hang up without a word.

“Hello?” he repeats drowsily, frustration already heavy in his tone.

“Jake,” you finally respond and you swear you can hear the breath catch in his throat.

“Hey.” The word is only three innocuous letters but it hurts as if it’s a breakup speech and you regret being so hasty to call. There’s a brief silence broken by the muffled sound of him grunting, and you know from memory he’s stretching across his bed to glance at the clock.

You swallow deeply, trying to block out the mental images of those taut abs tensing and contracting. Rippling as he fucks you long and hard in missionary—

“Y’know it’s 2am, right?” His voice interrupts your thoughts.

You know what time it is without needing to look at a clock. Like when your body is so in tune to waking up at the same time every morning, yours is programmed to reach out to Jake at 2am.

“Mhm.”

He sighs softly. “What’s happened?”

You don’t expect the question even though he always asks. Oh how you wish he’d get angry and hang up. It would certainly make these exchanges easier to deal with, but he never does.

I felt a moment of you in him.

You can’t tell Jake you missed his voice. Missed him. You’re too afraid to tell him anything.

“It’s not important,” you brush off, quickly changing the subject, “so, how you been?”

Jake coughs, clearing his throat. “Are you drunk again?”

“No,” you say, but the wine on your breath tells a different story. In reality, you’ve been drinking since you got home an hour ago, cutting short your date with Ben by feigning a stomachache. You did— do— feel sick, your gut twisting and turning as you try your best to wash down the memory of Jake on your skin, but it has done nothing except exacerbate your thoughts.

“You always were a bad liar,” he chuckles softly and the sound splits you down the middle before his tone changes. “Look, you should get some sleep. I’ll call when you’ve sobered up.”

“I can’t talk to you when I’m sober.”

“Why not?”

Because I’ll say all the things I should’ve said a year ago.

“This was a bad idea,” you backtrack hurriedly.

“D’you need me to come over?”

You shake your head vigorously, momentarily forgetting he can’t see you before you manage to choke out a solitary, “No.”

You can’t have him in your apartment. The last time it happened, all of the hard work you did to move on unraveled like a spool of thread in a matter of heated seconds.

As soon as he stepped inside, Jake was on you. Lips covering yours, hands in your hair— on the fastenings of your clothes as he rushed to free you from them. You mirrored his actions, tearing into his jeans as you kissed away the taste of bourbon from his tongue. He moaned into your mouth, a blissed out version of your name that you swear in the moment you’d have memorised for life. You stepped out of your yoga pants and jumped into Jake’s arms, wrapping your legs around his waist.

His cock was hot and wet as it notched at your entrance, teasing your pussy lips apart before he slid his way home—

“Hey, you still there?” Jake sounds panicked.

Your voice is thick as you reply, “‘m here.”

“Just say the word.”

No. No. No.

But that’s not the word that ends up slipping out.

-

I know I shouldn’t have offered. Yet I find myself bolting out of bed the second she whispers, “yes,” despite the reluctance in her tone that doesn’t fool me for a second. The entire ride over to her apartment, I can feel the deep tremble in my bones, the anticipation of seeing her again setting me on edge. And when I pull up in the parking lot, it takes all of my strength to drag myself from the car.

From the outside, I look like I have my shit together. A line of women queue up around the block to spend the night with me, and while I might indulge a couple when I’ve stumbled home from a bar, nobody can come close to her.

It’s simple. I didn’t do enough. I should’ve tried harder. I should’ve fought for what we had. But I had my chance and I lost it. She’s moved on, yet there’s a still part of me that can’t help but grasp at these lifelines— these little glimmers of the good times, and hope that maybe we can figure out a way to make it work.

It never goes any further than a quick hook up in the dead of night. And while I still want— need— her in every capacity, those moments hold me together like loose stitches, just waiting until they break apart and dissolve.

Apprehension takes hold as I step up to the door, lifting my fist high in preparation to knock. I hesitate for a moment, heart thudding against my rib cage. I could turn and walk away now, let us both move on like we should do, instead of suffocating beneath feelings I can’t verbalise. But as I fly blind into a cloud of denial, I always accept the lifeline she throws me, and I hold onto it like it’s saving me from plummeting to the ground from 30,000ft.

I knock and wait for her footsteps. When I finally hear them, my breath stalls in my throat.

-

You pause at the door, hand grasped loosely around the handle as you try to summon up the courage to open it. After all the time you’ve spent trying to create a void between you, it seems equally pointless as it is gut wrenching that he’s merely only a door’s width away from you now.

Eventually you suck in a deep breath and pull it open, feeling like your heart is on pause inside your chest as you wait for your eyes to land on Jake, like you expect the time and distance spent apart to have altered his appearance into something ghastly and hideous.

He hasn’t changed from the memory your mind has preserved, and that notion alone has enough weight behind it to make your whole body ache. Your gaze finally meets his and you stand there frozen, still remembering the way his touch felt against your skin the last time you stood in this very spot.

I never should’ve said yes.

Jake hovers in the doorway as if he’s waiting for your permission, and you hesitate in giving it to him before slowly moving out of his way to let him pass. He crosses the threshold in silence, sliding past you as his hypnotizing aftershave follows behind. Just the slightest inhale of it is enough to send you spiraling.

He turns to face you, brows furrowed in concern. “I can go.”

You shrug your shoulders in an attempt to act aloof. “If that’s what you want?”

“I wouldn’t have come if it was.”

Please don’t say that. Instead what comes out is, “I shouldn’t have called you.”

“Then why did you?”

“I don’t know, okay?” you rush out a little sharply, using the sudden burst of ire to slam the door shut. “What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know,” he says, “how about the truth?”

You stare each other down for a moment before you storm past him, only making it as far as the kitchen until Jake is reaching for you. With his hand around your bicep, he spins you around to face him.

You pull your arm free of his grip and hiss, “Don’t touch me.”

He looks hurt. “Why?”

“If you start, I won’t want you to stop,” you break down, virgin tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

Jake regards you like you’re the most fragile thing on earth with clear hurt in his eyes and you feel your heart crumpling at the sight. Quickly, he closes the gap between you and you put your hand up to his chest to stop him, but it falters the minute your fingers skim over the material of his t-shirt, and the hard steel of his chest beneath. You begin to pull away, but Jake grabs your hand before you have a chance.

His skin is hot on yours despite the cold outside and it sets your entire body alight.

“What if I don’t want you to stop me?” he whispers, his spare hand sliding around the nape of your neck to pull you against him.

“Then we’re on the same page,” you breath out before pressing your lips roughly to Jake’s.

The kiss is hasty and messy. All tongue and heated moans between frenetic scrambling to free yourself of enough clothes to get to what you want. Jake tugs at your skirt, lifting it higher and higher until it sits bunched around your waist, just as you reach into his jeans to pull out his cock.

With a husky grunt, he turns you around, forcing you over the edge of the counter. You both frantically tug down your underwear, allowing him enough access to your cunt to slide himself inside you.

There’s a sudden bout of silence between you— like a second to reflect that you shouldn’t be doing this and stop, but neither of you do. Jake tenderly kisses your shoulder, and you turn your head to capture his lips within yours once more. Slowly, he starts to rock back and forth, pulling out with sloppy wet sucks as he retreats and brings back with him deep, thick moans when he fills you back up.

You lift your arm, wrapping it around the back of Jake’s head to keep him close, not wanting to be given the chance to speak for fear of coming to your senses. It’s better this way— losing yourselves in the moment rather than blaming each other for how your relationship failed. Yet stray words still manage to slip free— hushed expletives and blasphemous grunts, amidst praising moans telling one another how good it feels.

Jake knows your body as if it were his own. Fucking you like he never left. And when you come, you wish he never had.

-

The early morning sun prickles against your naked back, warming your skin until it wakes you. Sleepily, you stretch out, fingertips meeting cold sheets. For a minute it feels like any other morning, until you remember…

Jake.

You sit up fast, grabbing the t-shirt you normally sleep in and roughly pull it over your head before rushing out of bed. The pile of his clothes you had both thrown onto the floor in a fervoured frenzy are long gone. The sheets where he slept are smooth. There’s no trace that he was ever even here.

Except between your legs.

Your heart drops as your body sags, the ache in your chest like a gaping wound, ripped open and raw. You feel so stupid, so gullible. How could you be so blind? And even though you were the one to call— knowing it would end up like this, you’re still somehow surprised that things haven’t changed.

Ben crosses your mind for the first time since last night and remorse hits you like a ten tonne truck. It doesn’t matter that you’ve only been seeing him for the past two months or so— you aren’t even necessarily exclusive— it’s still a betrayal of trust. One you won’t be able to earn back.

Tears ravage your body, huge sobs that echo around the room like a haunting symphony. You fall back onto your bed, curling up into a ball as you hold a hand to your chest in an attempt to keep your heart from bleeding through it. It takes everything in you to remember how to breathe through your cries, the anguish stealing away all cohesive thought as misery consumes you.

You don’t hear the footsteps outside your room, or the creak of the door opening. You don’t realise Jake is standing next to you until he appears in your tear-streaked periphery, looking terrified.

He places something on your nightstand before rushing to his knees beside you, reaching out to stroke your forehead. “What the hell happened? Are you okay?”

“Thought… you… left,” you manage to choke out through a fresh wave of tears.

“I just went to get us breakfast.” He glances at your nightstand and you follow his gaze— two coffee cups along with a brown paper bag sit there innocently.

You want to cry all over again, but for an entirely new set of reasons. Embarrassment blooms beneath your skin— white hot shame at allowing Jake to see you. The real you. The one buried beneath your grief.

Pushing yourself up, you keep your head down, not wanting to make eye contact. You chide and vilify yourself internally, wishing you could take back the last twelve hours.

“Did you really think I’d leave without saying goodbye?”

With a sniff, you mutter, “You’ve done it before.”

Jake scoffs. “Only because you force me too.”

Now you look up, staring him down through wet eyelashes and the elysium— the brief period of jubilation in his company all but melts away. He’s right and it stings. You create this shield— this barrier so he can’t do it to you first.

You clam up like every other time before— the words on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t seem to vocalise them and the constant lie you tell yourself finally becomes apparent.

It doesn’t matter if you’re sober or not, you’ll never be able to tell Jake just how broken you truly are without him. Just how much you still love him. And the constant cycle of pushing him away before begging for his touch at 2am will never end until you can.

“I never want to leave,” Jake confesses, “but you push and push until I believe that leaving is what you really want. If it’s not,” he takes the deepest of breaths, eyes pleading, but his jaw is set tight as if he’s expecting a blow to the face, “if you want me to stay, if you want me, I need to hear it.”

You feel the solitary word in your throat. Can sense it teasing along the seam of your lips until it spills over like blood seeping from a wound. “Stay.”

***

4EVS: @amirra88 @andreasworlsboring101 @b3autyfuldisast3r @cheesyclaire @chibijusstuff @callsignrambam @dangertoozmanykids101 @daughterofthenight117 @doozywoozy @foxyjwls007 @geekofmanyforms @heyyouwiththeassbutt @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets​ @ilovefanfic86 @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @letsby @letsdisneythings @labella420 @mogaruke @maliburenee @notyourtypicalrose @nik2writes @obsessivelycapricious @patrick-hockslutter @princessmisery666 @phildunphyisadilf @roxyfan14-blog @sage-writing @sea040561 @sweeterthanthis @slutformarvelmen @simpformarvelmenandwoman @smokeandnailz @stoneyggirl @stoneyggirl2 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @thegirlnextdoorssister @unfortunate-brat @wayward-dreamer​ @warriorqueen1991​ @xoxabs88xox​

[geminimoonmadness]

ASTEROIDS ☄️

♡♡ Part 4 ♡♡

Copywrites Reserved ©️Gemini Moon Madness

──────────────────

CONJUNCT JUPITER EDITION

The conjunctions of these asteroids to your natal Jupiter should be within an orb of 0°-5°, the tighter the degree the more prominent it will be in your life.

──────────────────

☄️☄️✨

Alexandrinus 8969 Conjunct Jupiter ✨

You have a love for warm weather, birds & beaches. You’re bold, courageous & brave, So a tendency to protect and defend others is seen.

Arabella 841 Conjunct Jupiter ✨

You follow your heart often though these emotional desires may conflict with social expectations.

Brenda 1609 Conjunct Jupiter ✨

Similar to Alexandrinus, gives you a bold and courageous character.

Caesar 18458 Conjunct Jupiter ✨

You may have a strong desire for political power and possess military & strategic talents.

Edisona 742 Conjunct Jupiter ✨

Gives you an ingenious mechanical & creative ability. You may have an interest in working on new technology or making important scientific discoveries that may have long lasting effects on civilisation/society.

Ella 435 Conjunct Jupiter ✨

This may draw attention to womanhood & the concept of the Divine Feminine.

Manuela 576 Conjunct Jupiter ✨

Emphasises the importance of friendship in your life. You may also have a connection to divinity.

Eurydike 75 Conjunct Jupiter ✨

You may tend to have strong emotional attachments to romantic relationships. You have a beautiful, caring, fair & moral nature. Music plays an important part in you life.

Fraternitas 309 Conjunct Jupiter ✨

Gives you the ability to form mutually benefical bonds with peers. You are a kind, trusting and supportive person.

Hagar 682 Conjunct Jupiter ✨

May have to go through rejection, injustice or ingratitude in their life. This placement indicates that hardships will be experience yet survived.

Hathor 2340 Conjunct Jupiter ✨

Gives you the ability to help others through difficult transitions in their lives. You have a gentle, caring cheerful & optimistic personality. You may also have musical talent or interest.

Hilburg 684 Conjunct Jupiter ✨

You may have defensive, guarded, suspicious, fierce and self-protecting qualities.

Ireland 5029 Conjunct Jupiter ✨

Gives you a fascination to the place Ireland itself. You may have an interest in the culture, lifestyle, food, scenery, etc.

Mechthild 873 Conjunct Jupiter ✨

You are interested in mystical, visionary and spiritual pursuits. Indication that you may become a writer on extramundane subjects of enjoy reading about these topics.

Neverland 5405 Conjunct Jupiter ✨

These are the adults that cling to childhood. There’s a desire to escape mundane reality or avoid adult responsibility which may effect your life.

Penelope 201 Conjunct Jupiter ✨

Gives you a patient, loyal, friendly and committed nature.

Skuld 1130 Conjunct Jupiter ✨

This may emphasze themes of fate, destiny, time & the future in your life.

Urda 167 Conjunct Jupiter ✨

This may emphasise themes of fate, destiny, time & circumstance of ones ‘fortune’ in life. You may have eccentric or unusual/weird traits. Groups of 3 may be essential in your life.. keep note!

Ursina 860 Conjunct Jupiter ✨

strength, willpower, courage, combativness, assertiness, fortitude & ability to defy danger.

Werdandi 621 Conjunct Jupiter ✨

Emphasises themes of fate, destiny, time & one's immediate exstence. You are blessed with the ability to live in the present moment.

Asteroid list:

8969,841,1609,18458,742,435,576,75,309,682,2340,684,5029,873,5405,201,1130,167,860,621

✎ I appreciate interactions & feedback of all kind. Let me know if you have any of these conjunctions in your placements!

[ineffabildaddy]

I’m Beginning to See the Light - human AU Ineffable Husbands Christmas fic

part 1/2 is up now!!! be warned, it is intensely quiet, gentle and romantic (and aziraphale’s trans. why? bc i said so).

secret santa, ella fitzgerald, it’s a wonderful life, kissing, light jiggery pokery… what’s not to like?

summary:

There was Crowley - the paragon of cool, the overlord of apathy, breezing easily through each and every one of their exchanges and giving no fucks while doing so; then there was the anachronistic, cloying Aziraphale, trying and failing not to live life like a Thomas Hardy protagonist, and giving many fucks indeed.

Or: Aziraphale has quite the pash on his colleague Crowley, who seems resolutely disinterested in him. As their annual Christmas party progresses, it appears that Crowley may not be as disinterested as Aziraphale first thought.

6,761 words

pls enjoy and let me know what u think!! feedback keep me writing<3 reblogs are always very much appreciated

this fic was a gift for the lovely @sad-chaos-goblin!!!

tagging (no pressure to read uwu): @raining-stars-somewhere-else @bowtiepastabitch @sentientsky @ineffable-rohese @foolishlovers @celestialcrowley @crowleys-bentley-and-plants @sabotage-on-mercury @createserenity @quoththemaiden @iammyownproblematicfave @and-his-hands-were-24-crows

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Trouble's Brewing Remake: What's it about, and why is it happening?

//So, I think I kept everyone waiting for quite a while after I announced this, and I think it's finally time that I explain what's going to happen with this arc, and what it's all about.

//After some deep reflection and feedback, I realized there were areas that could be improved, and I’m really excited about the direction this rewrite is taking. I know some of you might have questions, so I wanted to address a few that might be on your mind. From what inspired the change, to how this will affect the story moving forward, and what new things you can expect, I’ll cover it all right here.

//No need for a long, drawn out explanation, so let's get started.

1 - Why is Trouble's Brewing being re-written?

//The simple answer is because it's easily the most outdated arc of the story.

//For those who haven't seen the beginning of this blog, this was before I came up with the structure that I currently have, and suffice to say, the plot of the first arc was rushed, and didn't really explain ANYTHING. It was just a quickly fumbled together introduction with no real characterization.

//Basically, all it was designed to do was drop Shuichi and his friends into the world, and it didn't have much of a story besides that.

//The reason why I'm rewriting Trouble's Brewing, and making it from scratch, is to take that plot, and actually make a full-length story arc for it, instead of a few quick posts that were hastily scrapped together, and uncomfortably bad compared to my current writing.

//Now, normally, I really hate the idea of going back and recreating work that I've already made, but in this case, I have more than one good reason for doing so. Considering he's still a key player in the story, it's also the first chance I have to actually use Kuripa's new sprites as part of the story, as well as to give a little more early characterization to some characters who severely needed it in preparation for future arcs.

2 - Will the new arc change the overall direction of the story?

//Yes, but not massively.

//The general plot of the arc will be the same. It will generally be set up to explain the world, the current state of the Future Foundation, as well as introduce the V3 kids into the fray, and the OC's like Kuripa.

//All this is is me taking that original story, and expanding it into something full fledged, like all the current arcs do.

3 - Are key characters being changed or removed?

//I'm sure a lot of people are wondering this, and the answer is yes.

//Because this takes place at the very beginning of the story, the following characters, who only appear in later arcs, will not be featured: Junko Chiaki Alter Ego Junko Kizakura Munakata Yukizome Kaede Ryoma Kirumi Angie Tenko Miu Kaito Kokichi Tsumugi Keebo Gonta Rantaro Kiyo Monaca Yuta Taichi Sora Mikako Teruya Setsuka Iroha Syobai Mikado Kanata Kanade Akane Taira Ando Hibiki Yamato Akeru Mikihiko Yosaku Kana Misako Kanjiro Seina Shozo Ryo Akira Narumi Misuzu Eloise Taulner Kibin Karma Matta Tsutsuji Ella Hanami Mii-Yu Mona Eden Maya Four Hunter Kouji Leona Oliver Yomi Yui Kanon Natsumi Kuroba Solana

//And a few other characters on top of that. Just...anybody who was not present prior to the first arc, so most of the V3 characters, sans Shuichi, Maki, and Himiko

//However there are also characters that will be coming back for the arc, namely Hajime, Yukari, and regular Himiko.

4 - How will the asks function? Will there be any for this arc?

//To make it easier on myself, no. But I will not be closing the box during the duration.

//Asks will be asked in the context of where the story is currently. Because it's a rewrite, I want Trouble's Brewing to be entirely story.

//After all, there's not much point in asking questions when most people already know the current plot developments. There isn't much potential for questions when the reset button gets hit.

5 - How different will the rewritten arc be from the original?

//As I said before, the basic plot is the same, but it's been expanded to include more character moments, story beats, and just...plot in general. Below, I've included some of the important considerations for those looking forward to it:

The main characters of the arc are the Branch 14 trio, i.e. Makoto, Mukuro, and Kuripa.

As teased in the title though, all the main protagonists (with the exception of Kaede, who is not present at this point in the story) will play significant roles in the plot, Shuichi especially.

Yukari Koime will be the main antagonist of the arc. The reason is because I feel that her introduction in Neo World was a bit too bare bones for how important she is throughout Phases 1 and 2, and I wanted more of a chance to have her be the main antagonist.

The big key difference of this arc, compared to the original, is that Maki and Himiko don't just show up as easily as Shuichi does. Like in the original Trouble's Brewing, Shuichi will appear through a wormhole and arrive on Jabberwock Island, but unlike their rushed arrival in the original arc, the main plot of this new arc will involve the Future Foundation tracking down and rescuing Maki and Himiko, to help reunite them with Shuichi. Effectively, it;'s something of a Saving Private Ryan kind of story.

6 - Will we see new scenes or characters?

//Yes, and yes.

//Although, for whatever new characters we DO add to this, don't expect them to stick around for the rest of the story. We need to kind of retain the canonicity, and it doesn't make sense for new characters to appear, and then not be present for the rest of the story.

//The new scenes are designed to better establish the current state of the world 8 years after DR3, and to establish the new characters, like Kuripa and Mukuro, although they don't have their current development, of course.

7 - Can we still access the original version?

//Yes, of course, it should hopefully still be up. But the whole premise of this is to improve the first part of the story, so hopefully, you won't need, nor want to after this.

8 - Will the themes or tone of the story change?

//I can't say for certain, but if they do, it'll likely be to better elaborate and improve upon the general themes of Survivor as a whole, so that new readers can get better acquainted with the premise.

//I think for now, that's it. If there are any other questions about this, please ask me, and I will answer as best I can.

[wosomarvel]

communication - 04

alrighty, here it is. definitely not my best work, but i wanted to get something out before the second round of midterms starts.

i also got tickets to sinc's last international game so i am in a great mood and managed to write this in the span of an hour.

enjoy!! as always, i am open to feedback <3

this one is very angsty but with a nice dose of comfort as well.

-----

leah was worried. very worried.

the last time she'd heard from sim was over a week ago when she'd texted her a "got home safe" after camp was over. it didn't help that sim had been closed off since the conversation leah had overheard.

at first, leah thought that maybe she was just overreacting. that was before alessia had approached the captain, asking if she knew why sim was suddenly avoiding everyone after having been so joyous after the match.

leah thought she'd give the younger girl some space after everyone went back to their clubs, but on the third day after their return, leah had had enough. she'd gone to sim's apartment with two coffees from the cafe they frequented.

she gave up knocking on sim's door after the ice in her cold brew melted.

it didn't come as a surprise to leah that sim had shut down. she'd always been resistant to talking about her feelings, but leah hadn't expected her to just vanish. leah had spoken to beth, ella, alessia, and even sarina, hoping that sim had reached out to one of them.

her attempts were fruitless. it was during this time that it dawned on leah how little she actually knew about her friend. she had no idea where to look for her, or who else might have a clue where to start. she didn't even know if sim had any family.

logically, leah knew that this was by design. it wasn't that leah hadn't tried. in fact, it often frustrated leah that sim was so good at avoiding talking about anything from before they had met. and it wasn't that leah didn't know sim that well. she just didn't know about sim. she knew her favourite colour, knew how to read her emotions, how she liked her coffee, how kind she was even when she pretended not to care.

that didn't stop the pit of guilt that settled in leah's stomach like a 50lb dumbell she couldn't shake.

"still haven't heard from her?" viv asked, bringing leah back to her surroundings.

leah shook her head in response as she changed out of her training kit. "obviously, i want her to talk to me, but i'd honestly just settle for knowing that she's safe."

viv placed a hand on leah's hunched shoulder, taking a seat beside the english captain as alessia rushed into the dressing room.

"leah!" she panted, holding out her phone. leah took a look at the screen. all she saw was a pin on a map of north london.

"what am i supposed to be looking at?"

"it's sim, i sent her a voice note before training, just asking if she could please just let me know she's alright and she sent me her location and leah-"

"alessia," leah said, standing up and grabbing the girl by her shoulders, "breathe."

alessia took a deep, grounding breath as prompted, before continuing in a much less frantic tone: "she sent me her location. she's really close with you and i want you to come with me to go get her."

leah nodded before pulling alessia in for a quick hug, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. "get changed and meet me by my car. i'll drive."

-----

no sound is as annoying as the shrill voice of an overbearing parent at a kids' sporting event. at least, not to sim. a small voice in sim's head was genuinely impressed with how the sound carried from beside the pitch, all the way up to where she was sitting in the highest row of the bleachers.

she could hear it over the rushing wind in her ears and it made her sad to think that one of those kids on the pitch was going home with parents that cared more about winning than having fun. she wished she could rush down there and give those parents a piece of her mind.

then she remembered that she shouldn't even be here.

the last week had been a blur. sim knew it wasn't healthy to shut down the way she had, but she feared that if she didn't, she would break down. she felt pathetic. one conversation with her old uni rugby coach shouldn't have her spiraling like this.

somewhere between pretending that she was fine and missing her sport so much, sim had found herself itching to be near the game again. sat there at a random children's recreation league rugby game, she could hear the voice of her own parents in her head.

weak.

pathetic.

embarrassing.

she should never have come here. she was only hurting herself more.

it's just a stupid game. get over yourself.

caught up in her own head, sim barely registered the two women that moved to sit on either side of her. it wasn't until she felt a hand settle on her knee that sim came back to the moment.

she wasn't surprised at their presence. as much as she tried to convince herself that the only reason she had sent alessia her location was to put a stop to all the frantic messages, a small part of her secretly yearned for the comfort of her presence.

"we were worried about you, y'know," leah spoke softly.

sim shook leah's hand off her knee. "you shouldn't have been."

alessia's heart broke at the hoarseness of sim's voice and the way the younger girl seemed to shrink into herself. she wished she could show sim that she deserved to have people care about her.

she reached over and took sim's hand into her lap, intertwining their fingers before squeezing gently.

"we worry because we care about you, love," alessia spoke, voice gentle. sim ignored the way the term of endearment felt like a warm blanket of security. she refused to let herself feel anything, not wanting to break down in front of the two women she considered her closest friends.

"you don't have to talk about whatever is bothering you, but just let us be here for you," leah pleaded.

as much as sim wanted to keep her friends at a distance, she so badly craved the comfort she knew they could provide. it was something she'd always struggled with.

growing up, sim had learned very quickly to make herself as small as possible, to never be a bother or a burden. she'd learned to make herself easy to be around, easy to love.

"i don't want to bother you," sim murmured, trying her best to keep her voice level.

"babe, you could never bother me. don't know about leah, though. she's like a universal older sister. anything anyone does might annoy her," alessia said with a smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment at the way the corners of sim's mouth turned up.

"hey!" the skipper retorted as she reached across sim's body to smack alessia's chest.

there was a beat of silence in which sim tried to muster up the courage to actually say something. she tried to ground herself in the pressure and warmth of alessia's hand in her own, focusing on the sensation of the pad of alessia's thumb rubbing soft circles into the back of her hand.

"it was my safe space," sim finally let out.

"sorry?" leah's soft voice questioned.

"the pitch. it was my safe space," sim repeated. "it didn't matter what was going on at home, at school, or at work. when i was on the pitch, i was... free, i guess," she stated, though it came out as more of a question. she'd never tried putting it in words before, never tried to vocalize exactly how much rugby meant to her.

"when i was playing, it was like i could fly. i was good, too. i played on the youth teams for the red roses a few times. i went down two days after my first senior call up."

the confession seemed to take the wind out of sim. the hunch of her shoulders and way she couldn't seem to even lift her head up was almost pitiful.

alessia removed her hand from sim's grip, instead choosing to wrap an arm around her shoulder. alessia pulled sim into her side and squeezed, hoping to provide as much comfort as she could. she knew her words would do little to help.

alessia settled on a simple "i'm sorry, love."

"what's done is done," sim answered with a shrug.

leah's eyebrows furrowed as she frowned quizzically. "can i ask why the injury is permanent? surely they could have at least helped you walk again?"

sim sighed and leah's heart broke at the defeat painted clearly in her features.

"leah... football is your job. i know there's still a long way to go in terms of investment in the women's game, but you have to understand that the resources you have are not the same as what i had. when i got hurt, i wasn't just in school. i was working and i couldn't afford to just take time off and heal.

"i didn't even get a scan on my knee until i showed up to the next practice a week later and my coach drove me herself. i wasn't resting either. i probably made the injury worse because i had to go to work and class, so i was just taking painkillers and walking my way through things like normal. i couldn't afford to stop. and when i was waiting for surgery after the scans, i was still working. you got your surgery from a top surgeon relatively quickly. i didn't have that same luxury.

"after surgery, i didn't have time to go to all the physical therapy appointments. i was fitting in sessions at the university when i had time but it wasn't enough. i still had to go to work. between my job, the wait time for the surgery, and my non-existent rehab, i was never going to make a full recovery."

leah felt a surge of guilt after hearing sim's explanation. she had always been humble and made it a point to never take her situation for granted, but sometimes she forgot her own privilege.

"i'm sorry. i didn't-"

"you have nothing to be sorry for. it's not your fault you had better access than i did. just the way things go," sim cut her off, shrugging alessia's arm off her shoulder.

sim didn't want their pity. she didn't want them to feel bad for her.

"i know that it's been a long time now and i should be over it, i know that but-" sim cut herself off, carding a shaking hand through her hair, pulling on the strands in an attempt to ground herself.

"it's just that rugby was everything to me. it's all i had. it was the one thing i was good at, and without it i'm lost, y'know? i don't know who i am if i'm not an athlete. i'm not good for anything anymore."

sim's voice cracked on the last word, the sound like ice being dropped into hot water. it brought tears to leah's eyes to see how much sim had been struggling, how she thought so little of herself.

she gently caught hold of sim's hand, flattening it against her own thigh to stop the girl from hurting herself.

"that's not true," alessia said firmly, once again wrapping her arm around sim. "you are so much more than your injury. you're quiet, but you light up every room you walk into. you are so kind and you make everyone around you feel safe. you're funny, and thoughtful, and smart, and i think you get the point now but you're wrong if you think you're not worth anything if you can't play," alessia rambled, red rushing up her cheeks.

sim shook her head almost imperceptibly. it's not that she thought alessia was lying. that wasn't it.

how could alessia be so sure about her when she didn't even know who she was?

leah squeezed the hand still pressed against her thigh. "sweetheart, look at me," she prompted softly.

again, sim shook her head.

leah let go of sim's hand, instead placing it at the back of sim's head and using a thumb to angle it towards her own. she didn't miss the way sim's brown eyes bounced around their surroundings, refusing to land on hers for more than a second at a time.

she decided to let it slide for fear of pushing sim too hard. she'd only just gotten the younger girl to open up and was reluctant to risk another shutdown.

"it doesn't matter that you got hurt a while ago. you're allowed to feel however you feel about it. when i tore my ACL, i was a mess. i held it together on the pitch, but i was inconsolable. i was in a really dark place for quite a while. i know our situations aren't the same, but i felt lost, too. i realized that my identity as a person was tied to my performance as an athlete and it wasn't healthy. but i had beth and viv to help me out of it and i want you to let me do the same for you. less is right. you are so much more than what you can do on the pitch. and it's okay that you're feeling lost and you don't know who you are. we can find out together, yeah?"

a choked sob escaped sim's mouth, causing leah to immediately stand up in front of her, carefully pulling her head into her body.

leah didn't care that her shirt above her stomach was slowly becoming soaked with sim's tears. she let her fingers scratch gently at sim's scalp, relieved that the girl was finally letting it out.

as alessia kept a firm grip on sim's shoulder, she made eye contact with leah standing above her. a silent sense of understanding seemed to pass between the two lionesses.

they were prepared to do anything to make sure sim didn't carry her emotions on her own again. the pain they felt at seeing their friend so broken wasn't something they wanted to feel again, but they would do it over and over a million times just to make sure she wasn't alone.

-----

"so she lives!"

it was katie's turn to host the rest of the gunners for dinner this week. sim's absence from the last two team events hadn't gone unnoticed.

though sim wasn't a part of the team, they had all quickly grown accustomed to her appearance at the side of alessia, leah, and recently beth. she might not have played for the team, or even worked for them in any official capacity, but they had taken her in all the same.

sim would never be able to articulate just how much that meant to her. she went from not having any family to having found her place in two: the lionesses, and now arsenal as well.

"so where'd you run off to, anyway?" steph questioned.

"your mum's house. she says hi, by the way," sim quipped.

there was a beat of silence before a burst of raucous laughter took over katie's living room.

a playful scowl took over steph's face. "you've been spending too much time with mccabe."

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Light on the Darkside - Chapter Thirty + Epilogue.

Well, we've reached the end, besties. Thanks to the few of you who stuck with it, it means the world to me. I hated having to say goodbye to James and Ella, as well as the rest of the characters, too, but all good things must come to an end and I hope you'll agree that I gave them a fitting send off.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One Twenty Two Twenty Three Twenty Four Twenty Five Twenty Six Twenty Seven Twenty Eight Twenty Nine

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.

Words - 5,460

Warnings - 18+ throughout. Topics cover depression, suicide and eating disorders. Minors DNI!

Two years later 

“Nah bro, can’t do it.” 

“But why, though?” 

Kitt gesticulated wildly across the garage, to where four out of five members of Nocturnal Descent all sat in a row, each trying their hardest not to laugh. “Because that’s one hell of a fucking audience! Playing to our other mates is one thing, but them? Nah.” 

Snedders was the first to speak. “Aw, Kitt man. How long you known us all for now, eh? What do you think we’re gonna do, sit here and piss laughing? Nah. Just run through and we’ll give you honest feedback.” 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” the lad continued, Lyra rolling her eyes. 

“Mate, come on,” she spoke, reaching to ruffle his hair lovingly, ending up with a palm full of styling wax she wiped onto her jeans. “It’s my dad and my uncles, not a load of twats who are gonna boo us.”  

“I expected better of you, son!” Gaz chimed in, scratching his beard. “Just play one song, it’s cool. You play in front of me and Jim all the bloody time when we jam together. Don’t be fucking scared of Sneds and Steve.” 

“Come on, mate,” the latter spoke, leaning forward in his seat. “Ain’t no one here gonna be a dick.” 

And that was the root of Kitt’s issue, the fact that the band he and Lyra had started two years before had just played their first gig, and it hadn’t gone well. So poorly, in fact, that they’d completed their set to a chorus of booing within the school hall at the end of year talent show they’d partook in.  

He fiddled with his bass a little, making a panicked noise in the back of his throat, their rhythm guitarist Molly snorting into her mic. 

“Oh, fucking hell, Kitt!” she spluttered, “making me feel all nervous and stuff now too, y’know!” A glare followed. “Wanker!” 

“Go fuck yourself!” he muttered, grinning thereafter and running when she raced behind Lyra to kick his thigh. The guys before them snorted laughing, loving their energy. Kitt’s nerves still lingered. 

He reasoned with himself that indeed, the guys were right, though. If anyone was going to give them a fair shot, it was the four professional musicians before them, all of them he’d known for the last four years. They were also more along the lines of the target demographic for Dominion of Decay, rather than a hall full of kids more into whatever was currently climbing the charts. He nodded, taking a breath, Lyra turning to Enzo, their drummer to count them in.  

James couldn’t keep the smile from his face as Lyra began playing the opening bars of Sacrifice, the song he’d helped her write. God, she was so fucking talented, and yes it didn’t hurt any having a father so musically accomplished, but the way she played came from practising for hours and hours. He still maintained she was better than he’d been at her age, a thought he’d had since she was twelve and really begun showing her talent.  

Looking to his side, he saw Steve elevating his head, mouthing ‘chin up!’ to her while pointing at his own, knowing of course the placement of her head would further open her throat, letting out the bellowing scream he’d had a hand in teaching her how to perfect.  

“They’re fucking good, ain’t they?” he spoke, leaning close to James, his smile broadening.  

“Shitting brilliant, is what they are,” he agreed, tapping his foot along to the blistering beat. “And that ain't biased at all. I tell 'em when they suck, but fucking hell, they’ve come on so bloody well in the last two years, innit.” 

They truly had, too. It was the exact focus Lyra had needed, something to really sink her teeth into while dealing with her PMDD. Whenever she didn’t feel right, she picked up her guitar and played her heart out, wrote the kind of lyrics that blew her dad away, and fastidiously studied music in order to improve.  

That, being put on medication, and her ongoing therapy sessions with Sadie (although now on a bi-weekly basis) all helped her deal with her mental illness in a way that had become entirely manageable, and left a much happier and mentally settled teenage girl in the wake of the one who’d struggled to make sense of it all. 

It went without saying that her parents were beyond proud of her, her dad especially. 

“Right, I’ll start with critiques first, but trust me I ain’t got many,” James spoke after the song had finished. “Molly, you ain’t keeping time, darlin’. It’s slight, but it’s there. If you practice slowly and build better muscle memory, then increase speed, you’ll get it. Try recording a few rehearsals so you can play it back and train your ear to pick it up, too.  

“Other than that, you were great. Just don’t get so wrapped up in the technicalities of playing, because you’re proper top grade at it, but you’re focusing too hard on it and slowing yourself down, ain’t keeping up with Lyra or Enzo. And Lyra, the way you play is why you cost me a shitting fortune in strings! You ain’t gotta brutalise your guitar, baba. Let the amp do the work for you.” 

“And keep your chin up!” Steve then added. “If you keep on looking down, you’ll close your throat and damage your vocal cords more trying to get them screams out. Remember when I told ya, the power behind it comes from the pit of your guts, like. Then you’re just letting your larynx go soft to let the sound pass, and tightening it again when the pitch is higher, but you can’t do that unless...” 

“Unless my throat is open," she finished for him a little sheepishly, rolling her eyes at herself. “Got it. Thanks, Steve.” 

He winked, smiling fondly. “Anytime, kid.” 

Gaz and Snedders then weighed in, giving Kitt and Enzo some invaluable advice, the latter even advising the young drummer to keep up with his fitness in order to handle the rigors of the job better. Drumming was certainly a workout in itself, especially if you played as hard and fast as Snedders did. 

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite, Sneds!” Gaz guffawed, pointing at him. “You had a gut the size of the West fucking Midlands for the first ten years in the band, with your kebab and beer diet!” 

“Oi, less of that!” he barked, pointing a finger at him. “It’s because I’m a formerly fat bastard that I can give that advice. Can’t say that about me any longer though, can ya? Dickhead.” It was true, in the years that had passed from the hedonism and extremely poor diet of his youth, Snedders had become a gym convert, who through the tenacity of Nell, his long-suffering wife, now actually ate a diet consisting of vegetables, too.  

They all sat together for a little while longer, James and Steve fetching a tray of tea and snacks at they sat with the teens, jamming, talking and laughing a lot. It would have been great if Dan was with them too, but he no longer lived local to the Warwickshire area, moving to north Wales, where his new wife was from. It meant he could only come down for practices well in advance, rather than such impromptu sessions like this, the guys offering to do Lyra a favour in letting her band run through for some feedback.  

Gaz and Steve had to get moving after an hour, both having commitments with their families, Snedders sticking around since Nell was, to quote him, enjoying a day of having the house to herself.  

“Uncle Sneds!" Freya screamed with delight upon seeing him enter the kitchen with her dad, hurtling through from the lounge to be lifted into his arms.  

“Aw, alright, little destroyer of worlds!" he beamed, kissing her cheek. "How you doing?" 

“I’m still the night! Fear me!” 

Oh, she was brilliant. “Don’t worry, bubs. If there’s one person I am truly terrified of in this world, it ain’t your auntie Nell. It’s you.” 

The child beamed, lifting her chin in triumph. “As I suspected!” 

She might have grown out of her wild toddler years, but still, she was a riotous five. There was definitely a spark within that her adoring parents thought would forever be present in Freya, and they wouldn’t diminish it for the world.  

Except maybe when she preceded her antics with the announcement of ‘Hi, I’m Johnny Knoxville, and welcome to Jackass!’ The last time had resulted in her taking a swan dive off the sofa, right to her dad’s midsection as he’d lain on the floor, trying to get his bad back to adjust. The arrival of Freya to his abdomen had certainly not helped. 

“Right then, Lyra,” Snedders then spoke, placing Freya down again to hurtle off in the direction of the back garden. “Where’d you want me?”  

Music was her main passion in life, but also, the eldest of the Kingston girls had taken a very keen interest in all things hair for a number of years. She regularly re-tightened Snedders dreads for him when they grew out at the roots, trimmed her dad’s hair, and as of late even did her mum’s roots for her. It was also why Freya currently sported a bright pink semi-permanent shade on her hair, with it being the school holidays, and nagging her sister to death to dye it for her after being given the okay from their parents. 

“At the island, I’ll just go grab my comb and clips,” she spoke, leaving the room as Zara entered, blowing her nose before moving to grab her dad’s hands and climb up his legs. 

“Getting a bit too big for this, innit,” he spoke, hauling her up into his arms and kissing her cheek. “How you feeling now?” 

Her reply? A very wet sneeze. Right down his ear. Snedders guffawed. James crinkled nose and eye rolled. That’d be another cold he’d be picking up courtesy of his germ-riddled offspring. And he had a tour to finish four days from then. Great. It was all part and parcel of dad duty, though.  

“Rubbish.” she confirmed, cuddling into him more. While she received some comfort, eventually going back to her place on the sofa under a blanket, Snedders sat and went through the pain of dread re-tightening. Each lock was wound around on itself where it had grown out, then backcombed and wound again until a new section of dreadlock was formed. He detested the process, but would rather sit in the Kingston abode with his mate and the kids he thought of as his legitimate nieces than a salon.  

Also, it was much cheaper. He paid Lyra fifty quid for it, a sum she was more than content with. Although she often stated she’d do it for free, he wouldn’t hear of it.  

“I still can’t believe it, you know,” he spoke, sipping his tea. “Only feels like five minutes ago when I was helping with the nighttime feeds and changing your shitty bum when you were this tiny, howling baby.” 

Yes, in her first few months of life prior to James and Ella getting their own flat, her uncles had indeed pitched in with helping her parents raise her. Snedders would hear her stir, amble into James and Ella’s bedroom, shoo them back into bed and let them know he had it covered before preparing a bottle for her. He’d then lie there on the sofa with her on his chest until she quietened, chatting away to her about all sorts while her exhausted parents caught up on sleep. 

“So, is this what you wanna do now you’ve left school, get into hair and all that?” he asked, Lyra twisting more of his hair tighter before combing it to death. 

“It’s my backup, yeah,” she began, turning the dread in her fingers. “The band is my dream, though, so that’s what I’m going after. Then I have this to fall back on. Hairdressing college is only two years, so I’ll be done and qualified by the time I’m eighteen.” 

He could barely believe she’d be sixteen in just nine weeks. Time truly had flown. “Aw, good plan, James mini.”  

She smiled, laughing a little. He’d always called her that, on account she truly was the female version of her father. The man himself re-entered the kitchen, hauling along with him handfuls of bags, Ella following him in after doing the weekly shop at their local Sainsbury’s, pausing to kiss Snedders on the cheek.  

“Not getting too many fleas in my kitchen, are you, Sneds?” she joked, receiving a smack to her leg. 

“Oi, less of that, Ells! I have enough shit talking about my bloody hair to contend with from your old man over there!”  

James immediately turned, pointing a finger. “Less of the old, you twat. You’ll be pushing fifty well before me!”  

“Yeah, but I wear it better,” he grinned, James guffawing before giving him a little further banter, moving to the kettle. 

“Do you and your fleas want another tea?” 

“Best thing to come out of your mouth so far this morning.” He often said that when James was being a dickhead. At least his tea making skills remained as top notch as ever. Much time might’ve passed, but fundamentally, they were still the same lads who’d shared a flat together back in the mid to late nineties. It still only felt like five minutes ago.  

Once his hair was all tidy, Lyra snipping the fluffy strands that had come loose from the dreads as well until they all lay smooth, Snedders passed over two twenty-pound notes and a ten, giving her and her family a big hug each before leaving.  

“That’s going right into the band fund,” she spoke, reaching for the old cookie jar off the top shelf next to the cooker, where she kept her saved cash. Even though her dad had a set up dedicated to rough recording in the garage, it wasn’t as good as an actual studio, she and her friends currently putting money aside each so they could pool together to get some demo tracks laid down at a proper recording studio. “Want some help putting the shopping away, mum?” 

“Please, my little love.” Ella smiled, handing her the bag containing the many and varied items that went to restocking the snacks cupboard. Taking it, she noticed the immediate grabby hands her dad made, rooting around and taking out the spicy coated peanuts to throw across the kitchen to him.  

“Cheers, monster. Right, I’m going out to get the cars washed and vacuumed. I’ll take the destroyer of worlds with me, keep her busy for a bit, innit.” 

With the eldest and youngest Kingston out on the drive, the middle one still absconded to the sofa beneath her blanket, Lyra and Ella made short work of unpacking all the food before taking a seat at the island, drinking tea and snacking on toast.  

“So, where is it you and dad are going tonight, then?” she asked, crunching her way through a thick, well-buttered crust. 

“Out for dinner first, and then to a bar we used to go to all the time called The Gallows.” she spoke, smiling with nostalgia. Since he’d been in America on tour for their actual anniversary, they were having their night out that weekend, before he’d be off again the following Wednesday to embark on the far east leg of the world tour.  

Their wedding anniversary and the date they got together while still in Moor Acres was the same day, 15th June, 1997, marrying seven years later on that same date. Twenty years. Ella could still barely believe it. Just a few days prior, while driving back from a clinic where she’d had sessions, she found herself close by to the very place she’d met her husband, pulling over at the side of the road which bordered the grounds of Moor Acres.  

From her vantage point, she’d been able to make out the gigantic oak tree there in the grounds, the place where she and James had often sat together to escape the regimental environment of the facility, spending some quiet time getting to know one another. There, much like the mighty oak itself, they’d laid the roots of what would grow into one hell of a strong relationship.   

James himself too, had been her oak tree, even when he’d been the furthest thing from mentally strong. He’d gotten her through one of the toughest times, if not the toughest time of her life, entering that facility a broken, emaciated young woman, only to begin flourishing after finding him. She’d leaned on him and he’d supported her, helped her see that food was not her enemy, but the mental picture she had of herself very much was.  

Most of all, he’d made her feel the very thing she didn’t. Beautiful. He still did, too.  

“Be still, my raging male hormones,” he told her later as she got ready, her choice of black leather leggings, her favourite leopard print high heels and a white spaghetti strap top very pleasing to his eye, her long, blonde hair all wavy and free-flowing. “Shitting hell, little. You look top grade sexy.” 

As did he, wearing a deep grey shirt and black jeans. Her husband never needed much to look utterly mouth-watering. “Thank you. Here, do my necklace up for me. I can’t with my nails.”  

Taking the little fine chain with the simple lone diamond star upon it, he fastened it around her neck, kissing her cheek. An hour later, and they were walking through Nuneaton, taking the high street that held so many memories for them of a life gone by, pausing outside one location in particular.  

“I'd hate to think how much the rent costs there now, since they did it all up," James spoke, both of them looking up at the lounge window of his old flat. It looked much different to how it had when they’d lived there, that was for certain. “All the meals of either toast with that nasty, cheap bread or rice, just so we could make the rent.” 

“And sleeping under two duvets in winter so we could save on heating the place a bit," she chirped, remembering it well. “No matter how hard it was at times, though, I still remember it fondly. It was my first proper home as a somewhat responsible adult.  So many memories.” 

“Like when we took Andrea back there for the first time and she wouldn't come out the fucking stairwell,” he chuckled, still able to see her there loitering in his mind's eye, too afraid to go into the flat and meet Steve properly.  

“Or the first time I came back here with you after watching the band play,” she spoke, hugging his arm tightly.  

He’d never forget that night, finding her again after being separated for two months. Winding his arm around her, he rested his head to hers, remembering a lesser pleasant memory of the flat. “It could have ended here for me, if it weren’t for Steve.” He gulped a little, still feeling an icy bite of fear even twenty years on over how close to death he’d come. “I owe him everything, man. Did the biggest solid to me, acting as quickly as he did. Poor lad was terrified, but he held it together to save me. Shit, don’t even wanna think about if I’d done it when he’d been asleep.” 

Turning to him, Ella reached for his face, stroking his cheeks. “Then don’t.” Pulling him down to her level, she kissed him softly, humming happily. “I’m so proud of how far you’ve come, you know. Every day, you make me feel like the luckiest bleedin’ woman in the world for having met you. Love you, my sexy church burner.” 

He laughed then, shaking his head, kissing her forehead. “Love you too, little.” 

They took one last look up at the flat before continuing their walk, a literal walk down memory lane, Ella pointing out what had once been the flower shop she’d worked at, Bloomin’ Lovely now long gone, replaced by a milkshake and dessert bar. They passed by the curry house she’d had a freak out at back in their fledgling stages of being together, the bank next door gone, a wine bar in its place, continuing on until they got to the Italian restaurant they were eating at.  

One penne with vodka sauce and one carbonara later, and they were on the move again, the end of the high street their destination, able to hear the music blaring from The Gallows from a good few hundred yards away. 

“Did you hear Lyra earlier, while we were bringing the shopping in, telling Snedders about her plans?” she spoke, thumb swirling over his knuckles as they walked hand in hand.  

“I did,” he confirmed, smiling with pride. “That’s a good kid we’ve got ourselves there, innit? Got her head screwed on right.” 

“Well, she’s following in some pretty amazing footsteps, isn’t she?” Ella smiled, giving him a little shove. “I think I always knew she would, you know. Good freakin’ god, she’s made me so proud, seeing how she’s come through all her troubles. I mean yes, she can still be a bleedin’ nightmare, but she’s our nightmare.” 

“Can’t fucking wait to see where her life takes her, same for the other two and all.” He paused then, chuckling. “As long as we can keep the chaos of the night off of any government watch lists, we’ll be doing alright.” 

She threw her head back, her laughter radiant, agreeing fully with her husband. After seeing where their lives had taken them, remembering it as they walked the streets they’d tread in their formative years, neither truly could wait to see the future that now lay before their three daughters.  

If they knew one thing for sure, it would likely be as chaotic as it was wonderful. They were Kingston's, after all... 

Epilogue 

August 12th, 2024 

He couldn’t deny how alien it felt for him, to be the one standing stage side while somebody he had a familial connection with played upon it, but there he was. And he couldn’t be prouder. It was the first major festival appearance since their signing with a record label a year before for the four-piece death metal band from Warwickshire, Dominion of Decay taking to the stage to a rousing cheer.  

“I can’t bleedin’ believe it!” Ella cried while clapping her hands above her head, feeling her eyes fill with very proud tears. “That's our baby up there!"  

Except at just turned twenty-three, Dominion of Decay’s lead guitarist and vocalist wasn’t a baby any longer. She’d always be such to them, though. Taking to the microphone, Lyra began to play the opening bars of the song Absolute Chaos, the audience having a very fitting reaction. Especially when she opened her mouth and let out the kind of ear splitting howl she’d become famed for.  

“That’s my girl.” James spoke with pride, beaming as he watched. 

“Nah, but it was her uncle Steve here who taught her to wail like a good’un!” the man himself spoke, watching with equally huge pride at his side. “The ability to shred the shit outta a guitar while she’s doing it, though, that’s all you, sunshine.” 

He grinned, nodding. “Innit.” Truly, pride was an understatement. He was absolutely overjoyed for her that her band was doing well, following very much in his footsteps, albeit in differing subgenres of the metal scene. She wasn’t the only person on stage he was proud of either, laughing as Kitt caught his eye, grinning insanely as his fingers pulled at the strings of his bass guitar, his bald head already gleaming with sweat. 

The young, bulked up man covered in almost as many tattoos now as James had been unsure if he’d even be able to play, still partially recovering from the kind of surgery that had put him out of commission with just about everything for months. At twenty-three, it was still considered a very young age to go through gender reassignment surgery, especially going the NHS route, who had flatly refused.  

So, after saving from his job and using the large wedge of inheritance that had originally been earmarked for university from his grandmother as well as securing a bank loan, he’d spent it on something he saw much more valuable to him. Just a year after going in for top surgery, he’d gotten his bottom surgery done at a specialist clinic out in Portugal, taking Lyra with him for support and so he had somebody to help look after him post-surgery.  

Lyra herself would never forget her best friend’s words as he’d groggily come round from the anaesthetic. ‘Dude, I’ve got a peen. Fuck yes!” He was thrilled, but still didn’t quite put the same amount of energy as usual into his performance that day, save doing his new boy bits any kind of nefarious damage.  

Of course, though, he pulled an array of faces for the camera in Ella’s hands as she ran up and down the photography pit, on duty as ever, just like she would be later in the day when Nocturnal Descent took to the stage. As she clicked away, her heart could have burst, seeing her first born up there following in her dad’s footsteps. It still felt like only a few years ago when she’d stood in the bathroom of their old flat, holding a positive pregnancy test, her eyes almost out on stalks.  

Sometimes, Ella struggled to believe it was her life, how being locked up in facility for the mentally ill had led to everything she now had. She often thought about it, how she could have just simply left James over in the corner to be rude and moody by himself, that day she’d pulled up a chair and spoken to him, first coined him the nickname church burner.  

Church burner, BFG, baby, James, Jim, husband, dad, War. He bore many names, his favourite of that list happening because of her. He still couldn’t believe it, that they’d been together for almost three decades, their twenty-seven-year long relationship still just as fun, loving and devoted as it ever was. They’d blinked, and gone from their early twenties to forty-nine and fifty, with a twenty-three-year-old, a seventeen-year-old, and a thirteen-year-old. And yes. Freya was still the destroyer of worlds. Or rather her mother, who she almost landed on after crowd surfing over the barrier. 

“Oi, that’s my kid. Don’t be rough with her or I’ll set her dad on you.” Ella warned one of the security guys, who had yanked her from the top of the crowd. They weren’t known for being particularly welcoming of crowd surfers. The security guy in question dropped Freya at her feet, about to question who said dad was when he saw the looming presence of James over to the side of the stage. Another thing well known on the scene; don’t fuck with War’s kids. 

“Nah, I’m fine, mum!” A sweaty, dishevelled Freya dismissed her with, throwing up the horns to her sister. “Going back in for a dance!” What she meant by dance was being hurled around in the moshpit. Any other parents would have worried, but not James and Ella. Freya Kingston could more than handle herself, even at thirteen. Plus, she had her uncle Snedders in there with her. Ella actually managed to pick her out in the crowd a short time later, sitting upon said uncle’s shoulders, screaming her head off, having a fantastic time. 

She was, if nothing else, her father’s daughter.  

Clicking off a few more pictures, Ella returned to James’s side, having a massive arm draped around her shoulders and a kiss dropped to her cheek. “We did well, didn’t we? Got two batshit metal heads and one future scientist who hates all of this.” 

She laughed softly, moving to lean back in his embrace instead, her gaze moving over to the other side of the stage, where a supportive but begrudging Zara stood, ear defenders on, with her little group of friends. She was too cool to stand with mum and dad, but happily settled for her uncle Gaz, auntie Hester, and their two sons, Charlie and Jonah.  

Little miss too cool had just started the second year of her A levels, working hard so she could eventually go to university and there take her BA in chemistry, wanting to go into the field of pharmaceutical development when she was older. It was borne of a fascination with how drugs worked on the body and mind, the delicacies of the compounds and their chemical structures, something that she’d shown great interest in back when Lyra had begun taking medication for her PMDD. 

In the years that had followed, and just like Michael had pledged to her father, Lyra had noticed her moods beginning to even out a lot more, her fluctuations now solely controlled by the contraceptive pill, which worked wonders. She, just like her dad, had found a balance through her mental illness, never again dropping to the level that had aged him ten years in ten minutes, her brush with suicide remaining just that, a one-off brush. 

Again, for how well she’d come through it, her parents were nothing but proud, both hugging her tightly as soon as she came off stage, telling her how well she did.  

“Thank you! I love you guys!” she croaked, her voice a little hoarse after spending the preceding half an hour screaming. Lamentably, they didn’t get much time with her that day, the band’s roadies packing everything up at speed, ready to depart. They had a ferry to board, ready to continue the European leg of their tour, supporting another bigger band. Life on the road; James knew it well. 

Kissing them goodbye, she jumped back on the bus, the pair then hugged tightly by Kitt. 

“Laters, mama and papa Kingston!” He’d been calling them that for years, something they welcomed. He would always be like another kid to them both.  

Watching the bus roll out of the backstage area, Ella thumbed a tear away. God, how she missed her, but equally was so thrilled to see her doing such an amazing job in her career, having the time of her life while she was doing it. 

“Oi, no tears, Mrs. K,” James spoke, giving her a little shove with his elbow. “We’ve finally got one of ’em out of the house! It’s quieter, innit?” 

“Baby, for as long as Freya lives there, it’ll never be quiet."  

As if summoned, there was suddenly a flurry of movement, Snedders racing past them. 

“Control your crotch fruit, Jim! Bloody insane!” 

“Uncle Sneds! Stop, look! If I spray it on a lighter, it makes a flame thrower!” Freya cried, her eyes alight with what could be constituted as slightly psychotic mischief. 

James grabbed the can of deodorant from her grasp, the lighter too. “No it don’t, right honourable princess of darkness. Pack it in.”  

She pouted, but still tore after Snedders, James throwing the almost empty can of deodorant into a nearby bin and pocketing the lighter.  

“Quite apt, really, for the daughter of a man with the nickname church burner.”  

He rolled his eyes, pretending to throttle her. “Except I wouldn’t put it past her not to actually do that at some point. I swear, she’s on a government watch list somewhere already.” 

Ella erupted with laughter at that, watching as her youngest finally calmed down, being piggybacked by a very out of breath Snedders instead, turning to her husband with a radiant smile. “You said something similar a few years ago, and I’ve never forgotten it. She’s mental, but in the best possible way. Wouldn’t change her for the world.” 

He leaned down and kissed her, his beloved wife cuddling him tight, realising that truly, there could be no exchange for the world at all, because she already had it. They both did, in the amazing life they had built for themselves, the children they’d brought into it, and lastly but by no means least, in one another. It hadn’t always been easy, but by god, it had been worth it.  

If only those two broken down, sick kids at Moor Acres could have seen where their lives would take them back in nineteen ninety-seven. They wouldn’t have hesitated at all in rushing towards their happiness, not even for a second.  

The End.  

[ellatholmes]

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[junkdrawernoggin]

SPOILERS for CINDERELLA'S CASTLE

Wanted to put a warning because if you can see it you should, and for all the folks who are going to wait for the YouTube release. There are also critiques in here, so if you don't want to see that, pass on by and have a good day!

I really really enjoyed it! I have a couple issues with it so I'll get those out of the way first. I mean these with all respect and kindness to the cast and crew.

Main Issue: You can tell who is an old Starkid member

This distracted me a lot. In this production there are only 3 original members on stage (I'm counting anyone who did AVPMs). That's Jeff Blim, Lauren Lopez, and Joey Richter. They are obviously all very talented. However

My critique for Lauren is that she did the same voice for Rancilda that she did for Ruth, and I wasn't a fan when she did it then. I haven't loved any of her sniveling loser roles, finding them far too annoying to enjoy. Emma and Zazzalil were fantastic, as well as her Tin Can roles. Please let her do that instead.

Edit: The Rancilda voice is actually not Ruth's. There is another character she does that has this exact same shrill thing going on, but for the life of me I cannot recall who it is.

Jeff is a great song writer, but he consistently writes himself parts that are out of his comfortable range. That or his vocal health is in serious disrepair by performance time. The "Castle on a Hill" demo sounds great, but in the DT performance I can almost feel the strain. I miss his lower range.

Joey did amazing puppet work; I especially enjoyed the parts where he was the old dwarf. The problem comes with the singing. NPMD I enjoyed his singing, and he's been good in the Tin Can productions. But you can hear him straining in the background which I felt hindered some of the ensemble parts.

I LOVE the old cast. They all bring unique skills to the table. But I think they are very comfortable now, and also sometimes make choices they think are good but in actuality hinder themselves. I'd love if a different writer came on board to mix things up. They need to be unafraid of giving honest feedback.

Now to the good!

The "new" cast members are so incredible!

Bryce rocked it, and I'm glad to see her highlighted after how well she did in NPMD. She sold every emotion, and her mix of wit and despair was heartcrushing. I would watch a 10 hour version of this production just to see more of her.

James was great. I don't find overly sexual humor that funny, but he did very well keeping a straight face and being utterly sincere with it all.

I will fully admit I have a crush on Kim and Curt, which colors my perspective of them a bit. Kim is such an incredible singer, I could listen to her all day. She's only the Fairy Queen for like...10ish minutes but she absolutely and utterly steals the show. No one else could've sold me that hard on how ethereal she was. Curt impossibly has chemistry with literally every person he's paired with. From the previews I was hoping Tadius and Ella would be paired up, so I am peachy pleased it turned out that way!

Jon was great, his role was clearly inspired by Septimus from Labyrinth and I love how hard he leaned into that.

I also adore Mariah, and I really loved this for her. She has had a pretty wild amount of diversity in all of her roles for Starkid. I was happy to see her really lean into the comedy and shenanigans of it all.

And the cherry on top, ANGELA!!!! I will admit, in Black Friday i wasn't her biggest fan. Mostly because I was so disappointed Mariah was unable to be in that production. However, she utterly shocked me in NPMD, that girl is MADE to play villains!!! I was a bit confused on why Angela was chosen for the stepmother and not Lauren, but oh boy when she came on stage I was HOOKED! She was fantastic. Is she a great singer? In my personal opinion, no not really. Do I really care? NOT AT ALL!! Highlight of the show 10/10

Also the set design was fucking incredible!! I like that they downsized (or at least it looked like they downsized) from the NPMD stage. It looked empty all the time. This time it felt so full and high budget. The lighting was phenomenal, the first time I've ever noticed lighting in a show and not for a bad reason.

The band was great, they always are!

The songs were...iffy. They didn't stick with me the way the NPMD ones did, certainly not like Black Friday or TGWDLM did. I'm a big music fan (I trained professionally to sing as well), so songs stick with me a lot even on a first listen. I know the opening "There's a castle on a hill as the story goes..." because I've watched the announcements so many times. Other than that, I really cannot tell you a single lyric from most of the songs in this show. Very odd for me.

Okay, going in for another watch. Maybe I'll have other opinions after.

[nekoannie-chan]

The last step part I

The last step part I

Title: The last step part I.

Fandom: Marvel, Captain America.

Ship: Serial killer!Steve Rogers X OFC.

Word count: 718 words.

Rating: Mature.

Summary: What if Ellen discovers that her husband Steve is a serial killer?

Major Tags: Dark themes, serial killer, mention of cheating.

A/N: This is based on The trap.

Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate my work myself) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. Please let me know if you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

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If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @pandaxnienke @real-fbi @Smokeandnailz @white-wolf1940 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @xoxonotme @bluemusickid @leyannrae @Harrysthiccthighss @Marvelatthisone @caplanbuckybarnes @sapphire-rogers @lizzieolseniskinda @notyourtypicalrose @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @talia-rumlow @writingshae @alexxavicry @azulatodoryuga @daemonslittlebitch @chaoticcollectivenightmare @endlesstwanted @chemtrails-club  @marigoldreamer @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @Here4thefanfics @theestorm @patzammit @kmc1989 @somegirlfromasgard @rogersbarber

The atmosphere in the Rogers household was tense, and Ellen Lynne Rogers found herself in a situation she never thought she would be in. She had spent weeks investigating a serial killer, a killer who was actually her husband Steve, yet there was one element she knew she could use to her advantage: her favorite dish. She knew that if she wanted to catch this monster, she needed to do more than follow his trail; she needed a trap.

Ella had devised a risky plan. To lure Steve, she had prepared her famous apple pie, which had enchanted Steve since the first time she made it for him, but this time with a special twist: a dose of the medicine he administered to his victims. She knew she had to act fast before he could do more damage and that her brother Clint was nearby in case anything went wrong.

While in her mind, she went over every detail of her plan. She had to be ready for anything. Ellen walked out of the room, leaving Steve with the word in his mouth. She knew he wouldn't leave things like this, but the pie couldn't be in the oven anymore.

When she heard the familiar sound of the kitchen door opening, her heart skipped a beat. She knew the time had come.

“Is it ready, dear?” Steve asked with a smirk, unsuspecting of what awaited him.

“Sure, and I assure you it came out delicious,” Ellen replied, keeping her composure as her heart pounded in her chest.

As he approached, the temptation of pie was too strong for him.

“Mmm, smells good,” he said, leaning closer.

“It's your favorite,” she commented, smiling. “But be careful, it might be a little... spicy.”

Steve laughed, taking a piece of the pie and popping it into his mouth.

After a few minutes of eating more pie, Steve noticed that he had finally realized that he had underestimated his wife and could no longer control her.

“That won't work on me, Ellen,” Steve scoffed. “Super soldier serum, do you remember?”

Ellen frowned, her plan beginning to crumble.

“I don't know what you're talking about, Steve.”

Realizing that the poison would have no effect and that Steve had already figured it all out, she decided to act. Without a second thought, she pulled out one of the special knives she usually used on missions, which she had hidden in her dress.

“If I can't stop you with this, I'll do whatever it takes.”

“Do you really think that will work?” Steve sneered again, but before he could react, Ellen attacked him. Steve, however, was quicker. In an instant, he knocked the knife out of her hands with ease, pinning Ellen against the wall.

“Have you lost your mind?” he said, holding her firmly, pinning her arms behind her back.

Ella resisted, trying to break free, but he had her firmly in his grip.

“Are you capable of killing your daughter's mother, by any chance?” She taunted, turning her head to look at him defiantly.

Steve frowned, feeling puzzled, but he wouldn't fall into another trap again.

“You know what you did with Rumlow isn't so easily forgotten; how do I know that little girl is really mine?”

Ellen looked at him with disdain. “Sarah is your daughter. I wouldn't cheat you out of something like that. I wouldn't risk even her; believe me, I don't forget everything you did to bring her into existence; besides Steve, I know you're Captain Hydra. I've been following in your footsteps. You're not a hero; you're a serial killer. And I won't let you hurt any more people.”

The tension in the room was palpable. Steve felt hurt by her words, but at the same time he wasn't going to let his wife mock him.

Clint suddenly appeared, taking advantage of Steve being busy, shot one of his arrows at him, and immediately lunged towards him, pushing him against the wall to subdue him so he wouldn't escape again while Ellen took a deep breath, trying to catch her breath after the intense confrontation.

“Lyn, are you all right?” asked Clint, looking at his sister with concern.

“I'm fine, Clint. I'm just...I'm fine.”

“What the hell were you thinking?” Clint asked without taking his eyes off Steve.

[selfproclaimedunicorn]

I would like more cousin duo factoids and tidbits

The Roycegaryen/Targtower Daddy Issues Havers Cousin Duos are so dear to me, thank you for this opportunity to scream about it

Ella & Aemond

This shit is built on mutual "my mental health is everyone else's problem" bullshittery. They are a constant feedback loop of "catharsis is arson & soul rendering screams into the void & property damage," both equally explosive but subdued in the areas where the other isn't. They are also definitely profiting from Ella being way more socially well adjusted & friendly than Aemond; she's basically his emotional support sister-figure (not that he doesn't have older sisters, but Ella's way older than him while actually being willing to be his friend/mentor without being a second mom bc he would never replace Alicent like that!)

Absolutely chaotic son-coded oldest daughter/daughter-coded second son solidarity. When the Targtowers visit Runestone she takes him joyriding on Vermithor & then sends him to go play with her comedically serious son. 16/10 experience, bb!Aemond would do it again & she is his favorite cousin. They definitely set a tree on fire during that flying session.

Yorick & Aegon

My boys elbow deep in the daddy issues muck. The traumatized little boy who hates his shitty dad & just wants his mommy to hold him in Yorick recognizes the traumatized little boy in Aegon. They're friends, they're brothers, they're father & son; they hug each other & cry at least once.

Yorick is, for Aegon, an older male figure who cares about him without worrying about how that benefits him & is safe--he's dad shaped & tells him he can do/be better because he's worth that effort, not because the realm needs it but because he deserves it personally. And then for Yorick, Aegon is finally seeing to fruition the reason he was in King’s Landing & enduring All That for years: being the older brother figure of the king's son. There's just the extra bonus of them being able to commiserate over just fucking hating Viserys.

Aegon is a shivering cat that Yorick found in the dumpster that immediately imprinted on him when he figured out "I like soft touch." Meanwhile, Aegon bonding with Weird Scary Mountain Man is a fucking mirror of Yorick claiming his nasty as hell dragon. Also, Yorick has definitely threatened Otto Hightower in defense of His Boy™ & I feel like that level of care had Aegon stunlocked for several minutes. 100/10, he's never leaving Yorick’s side again.

Aemon & Helaena

Weird quiet isolated kid who gets easily overwhelmed solidarity, right there. Aemon sees the potential to get/be as bad as he was isolation wise, & he wants better than that for whoever he sees that kind of "I'm weird, I'm a weirdo. I don't fit in." energy in, so it starts with him going out of his way to make sure she doesn't slip through the cracks & then blossoms into something really sweet & mutual from there. He'll happily sit there in silence when she needs it & listen to her when she has something to say; like, just generally he isn't treating Helaena like she's fragile or has something wrong with her. His concern is just not wanting her to be lonely.

They respect each other as Socially Just A Little Off & they're mutually safe to be around when the social battery is running on empty. "Your thought processes & need to be alone sometimes are totally normal. Everyone else is wrong." Also, in a modern AU she's who is going up to the counter at the burger place to say Aemon asked for no pickles. Please know that is real & true.

Aemon is also close enough to her age (like, I think he was 5 when she was born?) that he can kind of easily & comfortably fit within her life while still being Large Older Rleative To Be Safe Around If I Need Protection. When he comes home from fostering for his 16th nameday & gets to be in a tourney to celebrate his getting knighted, he asks Helaena for her favor because that's his friend & she said she wanted to give him one. The tourney was loud, but she had fun & Aemon made sure she had both hiding spots & other kids to play with, 12/10 that's her cousin. Also Aemon is one of the most exciting parts of getting betrothed to Yorick's son/Stannis during the course of the fic (Stannis knows he is the second favorite cousin & he's okay with this)