#for me one year earlier or one year later would mean a WORLD of difference

[sunshine-theseus]

Pequeña | Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: you make stupid decisions but you got your girl in the end.

Warning: fluff, horrible self-care, fainting

My parents and I moved from Spain to England when I was 5.

I was a quiet kid with no friends, who spent most of her time reading or listening to music. At seven years old my parents decided to sign me up for my local football kids club to try and get me to ‘open my wings’, their code for ‘stop being a fucking loner we value popularity over smarts’. I haven’t seen them in 8 years.

Turns out I was fucking great at football and by 12 I was in the Arsenal Football Academy. At 15 I was playing for their Women’s team in the WSL and was debuting for England’s national team. I spent most of that time on the bench of course, but by 17 I had a large ‘1’ on my back and was starting 90% of games at Arsenal. I didn’t have many friends though, especially when I knew most would either leave to bigger leagues or transfer teams. I preferred it though because that meant I had plenty of time between training and games to study and read and play music.

Another 6 years later and I’m playing for England in the Semi-finals of the 2023 World Cup against Australia. I wasn’t our main goalie, but Mary had gotten a concussion so that left me and like hell I would let us lose this close to the finals. I’d nearly managed to keep a clean sheet until Sam Kerr came running up from halfway, past Millie and chipped it behind me into the goal. Despite the goal, we won.

As I’m walking toward the girls, I tripped over something, or someone, sitting on the sidelines near the tunnel. One of the Aussie girls, clearly tired and upset, curled up to their goalkeeper. If there was one thing I could do, it was recognise a phenomenal goalkeeper when I see one, and Mackenzie Arnold was just that.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper to her as I pat her shoulder and copy the gesture for the girl next to her.

I didn’t know much about her, but I’d seen her play. Her footwork was incredible, and she was clearly underrated and underestimated, something Arsenal could benefit from.

“Wanna swap jerseys?” it comes out soft, I almost miss it as I turn away. When I turn back around, I expect to see Mac offering her’s, but instead I see the younger girl looking up at me questioningly and I smile. I’d already swapped with Mac in a friendly earlier this year, and I love collecting jerseys from different players.

“Fuck yeah.” and within seconds she has my jersey pulled over her head, and it hangs loosely, clearly a few too many sizes too big for her.

I then pull on her’s, for a moment fearful it would be too small, but I’m thankful for her clear preference for baggy clothes as it slips over my torso. Mackenzie beckons over their photographer, and I pose with the still nameless girl. She’s small in comparison to my 5’11 stature and I giggle at the difference before offering her a piggyback for a silly photo.

As she jumps up, I notice shocked stares of my teammates from the corner of my eye but shake it off as she wraps her arm around my neck as if to choke me.

“Has anyone told you how small you are?” I ask her as I drop her back to the ground.

“They don’t shut up about it.”

“I think I’ll call you Pequeña.” I chuckle at her confused look.

“It means small in Spanish.”

“What the fuck!? Fine I’m calling you fucking Giant or something.”

I don’t get her actual name that night, but I look it up when I get back to my hotel room, Lotte missing from the space.

Kyra Cooney-Cross. An unexpected star.

I watch one of her games instead of doing my uni work and fall asleep to one her interviews playing.

~~~~~

I don’t expect to see Kyra until whatever friendly we have with Australia before the Olympics. In the time after the World Cup and before pre-season, I’ve hung her jersey in my hallway, along with all the others. I put her’s at the entrance with others like Mapi León and Christine Sinclair, people I consider special.

We also begin talking. A lot. I spend most of my spare time calling or texting her, but I don’t tell anyone.

The shock I get when the final minute of the pre-season transfer window approaches, and I get a notification from the Arsenal Women twitter account.

‘KYRA COONEY-CROSS IS A GUNNER✍️’

~~~~~

We’d been knocked out of the qualifiers for the Championship League and yet I walk into training on Monday with a slight spring in my step and excitement buzzing through me. I wave to all the staff and greet everyone, asking how the girls are when I walk into the locker room.

It’s Katie who asks.

“What the fuck is up with you Ms Dark and Broody?”

“Whatever do you mean?” I giggle.

She gives me and incredulous look before turning to the rest of the locker room who share similar expressions.

“W- wh- wh-” she continues to babble as Steph pulls her back to her cubby and pats her shoulder as a way of reassurance.

“You just… you’re never so smiley or talkative. At all. Like ever. Like in the past 8 years you’ve said maybe 100 words per season to me.” Lotte speaks up.

“Not true!”

“I’ve only seen you without a book off the pitch 13 times. I started counting after the 1st.” My jaw drops.

“She’s not wrong Y/n. You’re pretty reserved and stoic. Which there’s nothing wrong with! But it’s just odd to see you, well like this.” Manu points at me as if that’s explanation enough.

“Wow thanks gu-” I’m cut off by someone jumping on my back and screaming.

“BEANSTALK!” and I’m smiling all over again as I turn my head to see the young Australian I’ve been missing.

“PEQUEÑA!”

“I can’t believe I had to put up with your nerdy shit in person every day now.” She jumps off my back and moves to greet the other girls except for Steph and Caitlin who she obviously knows.

We don’t get much time to talk before Jonas calls us into the meeting room. He introduces all our new players like Kyra and Lessi and announces the return of Vivianne and Beth to our playing squad, before going over how we need to improve after our defeat in the Champions League.

“L/n, I know you just came 2nd in the World Cup but you cannot be slacking like you did in the game against Pairs. You’ve got to be doing more.” I don’t get to reply before he’s ushering us out onto the pitch.

I’m left in a sour mood the rest of training, once again avoiding everyone, including Kyra who seemingly found a close friend in Alessia. I had given my all in that game against Paris, but they were good, and I’d stayed up until 2am the night before completing one of my assignments for my uni degree, something Jonas had encouraged me to do.

I was more mad that he didn’t allow me to tell him why but either way, I’d decided I would be staying after training to practice until I couldn’t any longer. So I did. And I came in an hour early the next morning to get more training in. I continued to do this for a while, studying once I got home until I couldn’t keep my eyes open now that my usual study time was booked. Eventually the girls stopped inviting me for coffee or team bonding and Kyra stopped trying to talk.

We were playing against Man United when I began to sway side to side, and my eyes began to droop. I think Kyra noticed first while on the sideline, and whispered something to Katie as she passed by the bench, but nothing came of it until United got a corner. They didn’t even get to kick the ball before I crumpled to the ground beside a clueless Lotte and Katie Zelem.

I don’t feel myself get carried off the pitch or get transferred to an ambulance. I don’t think I recognise anything happening around me until hours later. The clock on the wall says 9:21 and I think I’ve only slept for a few hours, but then I notice the sun streaming through the curtains and realise the few might actually be a lot.

I then recognise the limp bodies spread across the room. The awfully sterile white room which is nothing like the warmth of my olive-green bedroom. I don’t think I’d been so slow to figure out what was going on in my life.

“Beanstalk! You’re awake!” I look to the small brunette who has been hunched over asleep next to me for god knows how long and smile.

“Hey pequeña.”

“You are so stupid!” Kyra slaps my arm and sends me a sharp glare.

“What the fuck is going on. You’ve been exhausted 24/7 and no one sees you outside of training.” I then decide to explain my rather stupid schedule and reasoning to her.

She stares blankly at me for a while.

“You are genuinely so fucking dumb. I was so worried about you.” She whispers.

“Why?”

“Because I love you.” Her eyes drop to her lap.

“Te amo.” I’m not sure she understands it but she smiles either way and leans in.

Just as our lips meet, Katie abruptly wakes up in her corner of the room and shrieks.

“What the fuck!” and we’re left to quickly pull away as she tries to wake everyone else up to tell them what she saw.

“Katie don’t be fucking ridiculous! They’re both sound asleep.” I hear Kim whisper shout, followed by more of Katie’s babbling about how we’re just pretending as they trail out of the room, assumedly getting coffee.

As the door clicks shut, I open one eye to glance around the now empty room. It seems everyone needed some coffee. Except a certain Australian, whose eyes also peak open.

“Kiss me.” And then her lips are on mine again.

~~~~~

I don’t play again until our game against Bristol for the Conti Cup. Jonas apologised for pushing me too hard but made it clear I was to properly rest before I get to do anything and makes Sarina Weigman promise not to play me during our international break.

Kyra also gets her first starting debut.

It’s a tough game, and in the 84th minute, Kyra drops to the ground. I nearly run to check on her, but she gets back up, and within another minute she gets subbed off for Vic.

The whistle blows, signalling the end of the game, we win 3-1.

I meet Kyra in the middle of the field, pick her up and swing her around. Our first proper game playing together seems like an obvious thing to celebrate. And before I can think, I’m leaning down and kissing her, something I’m not sure if I’ll regret later.

She smiles that smile, brighter than the sun, and I melt.

“Te amo pequeña.”

[oh-no-its-bird]

Speaking about au crossovers, suddenly absoloutley infected w the idea of a team ro time travel au + the team ro defects from Konoha to join sound au mashup

So many time travel to the warring state aus hit the beats of "oh yeah were from the future village u made, which btw is awesome" but what happens when that diverse team of clans, that team of mismatched uchiha/hatake/suspected senju that people of the time gape at seeing work so smoothly together, instead of vouching for the village condemn it?

But there's also an added layer of like— some of these characters still care about the village. Honestly all of team ro does on some level.

Itachi and Shisui are still village loyalists, just forced to leave for their own self preservation when Danzo would have them killed

Tenzo is still struggling with his own brainwashing and even tho he may have chosen the team and his friends over konoha, he still has that "you live for the village you die for the village" mentality implanted deep in his heart. He may actually try to compensate for it by being vocally against konoha when given the opportunity (lying to himself ab it)

Kakashi is complicated. He's probably the one among them who it can truly be said is against konoha— for a refresher on the detector au, he left after finding out Danzo had his father killed, then walked in on him trying to kill Shisui + this was around the time where Danzo was trying to get him to kill Sarutobi (and he was straight up willing to do it too) so there's a LOT going on in that head of his. I think he considers Konoha to be it's people— and unfortunatley he has very little people left there to truly care about. Doubly unfortunatley (for Konoha) a chunk of the people he finds himself willing to "allow" himself to care for have also come with him in this defection. So.

It's complicated.

Anyways, all of this is to say is that these guys have some seriously complex thoughts on Konoha and whether it's truly "good" or not, and I think that'd make for an interesting read when they eventually meet the founders

Also like. There's a pretty heavy Uchiha bias among them, let's be real.

Tenzo may have the Mokuton and may or may not be some sort of Senju bastard, but his education wasn't shit. He has absoloutley no opinions on the Senju in general but his only friends in the entire world are 2/3rd uchiha, so.

Shisui and Itachi are literally Uchiha. Itachi is the fucking clan heir. I don't even need to elaborate.

Kakashi is the only one who could claim to be any sort of neutral (hes even distantly related to Tobirama, though he doesnt even know it) but it was also established in the detector au that he has some sort of positive relation to Mikoto. I like to HC that Tsunade was a good friend of his father and even babysat him when he was younger tho, so there's that. But like. Still. There is a much bigger Uchiha influence on (literally his entire) life than Senju.

Anyways I don't really have any specific thoughts for this one? They don't have the same konoha loyal motivations as the original team ro time travel au, but they also don't have any motivations to like, STOP the founding of Konoha itself. They're smart enough to recognize it was a net positive for all of shinobi kind. But they don't wanna be involved.

If Orochimaru came with them maybe they can try to create sound way back when? That could be cool

Call up the Hatake and the Orochi of the warring states and see if we can make a new first ever shinobi village with a different image in mind

Fucking Orochimaru headed medical revolution 100 years earlier than it has any buisness being ,,,

Mmm this is just making me think ab an Orochimaru time travel fic actually and that's not what I want with this specific thing so let's shelve that for later maybe

But like. Team Ro time travels to the warring states but it's the team Ro that defected from Konoha

OH FUCK THAT MEANS SASUKE IS WITH THEM TOO

Rip Sasuke, my favorite little Izuna look alike. He's like 8 and the second any Uchiha see him they're going to have a stroke and go tell Madara and Izuna they might have stumbled upon something seriously sinister

Oops <3

[doomsayersunited]

A Decade Of Doom!

I started this blog ten years ago to compile the growing evidence that our planet would not longer be able to sustain human life by 2050, thanks to our continued, capitalist-fueled efforts to destroy all the systems we rely upon to sustain life. The first thing I put up here was this essay, on February 20, 2014. Now, a decade later, I thought it might be "fun" to look at what's changed: 1) Earth Overshoot Day

In 2014, "Earth Overshoot Day" (the day that humanity collectively consumes more resources from nature than it can regenerate over a year) was August 19th. Now, in 2024, Earth Overshoot Day is August 1st, 2.5 weeks earlier. At this rate and assuming things don't accelerate (even though they are likely to), Earth Overshoot Day will be around June 17th by 2050. 2) Biocapacity Biocapacity is the amount of resources contained on the planet required available to sustain life, measured by area. In 2014, I calculated that the planet had a biocapacity of 1.7 hectares per person. By dividing the total available biocapacity today in 2024 with the current global population as I did then, it now appears that there are just 1.5 hectares of planetary resources left per person to extract all the materials needed to sustain life, as well as all the area available to dispose of waste. That's a 12% loss over ten years. At that rate, we can expect to lose another 30% of biocapacity by 2050, going down to just 1.05 hectares per person by then, and that's assuming that the rate of biocapacity loss does not accelerate further and that the global population suddenly stops increasing after a run of non-stop increases spanning five centuries. Oh, also a reminder that the average human requires 2.7 hectares of land to sustain its current consumption habits/levels. So. 3) Individual Conservation To illustrate the futility of individual conservation at this point in the apocalypse, let me give you an example: If you were: a fully-vegan localvore living in a one-bedroom apartment with nine other people and using 100% renewably-generated electricity; who did not ever use motorized transportation of any kind or buy new clothing, furnishings, electronics, books, magazines, or newspapers and recycled all the waste you generated that was recyclable, you'd only require 1.4 hectares of biocapacity to sustain yourself. That is close to the kind of lifestyle extremism it would take to live sustainably. Deviate from that level of stoicism even slightly (say by living in a two-bedroom apartment with three other people instead of a one-bedroom apartment with nine other people and taking a single, four-hour roundtrip flight, once a year) and you're now consuming 1.6 hectares of biocapacity, which means you're using more resources than the world has available for you if everything was divided evenly among everybody. Of course, biocapacity, like all resources, are not divvied up evenly among everybody, which is why there are currently 114 different armed conflicts happening worldwide - the highest number of armed conflicts since 1946. 2023 was the most violent year in the last three decades. 4) Other Signs Of The End Times In my 2014 essay, I referenced the work of geologist Dr. Evan Fraser, who studies civilization collapse. In his book Empires of Food, Dr. Fraser noted common signs of a civilization about to collapse, which began to appear about two decades before it all goes completely to hell. Those signs were: -a rapidly-increasing and rapidly-urbanizing population We've added 700 million people to the planet since I began this blog in 2014. And where is everyone moving to?

-farmers increasingly specializing in just a small number of crops " "As farm ecosystems have been simplified, so too are the organisms that populate the farm.  A farm that specializes in a limited number of crops in short rotations does not, for example, look for plant varieties that do well in more complex rotations with intercropping.  A beef feedlot operation wants breeds that gain weight quickly on grain diets and does not want cattle breeds that digest well pasture grasses and thrive in all year outdoor environments on the range." The result? Recent estimates put the loss of global food diversity over the last 100 years at 75%. Over the 300,000 species of edible plants that exist, humans only consume about 200 of them in notable quantities, with 90% of crop plants not being grown commercially. -endemic soil erosion Climate change and the need to raise more crops have combined to increase the rate of agricultural soil erosion globally. Back in 2014, when I started blogging about the end of everything, the UN had already determined that there was only enough fertile soil left to plant 60 more annual crops. So, by 2074, we won't be able to grow food, full stop. This of course comes at a time when the global population continues to increase, and with it the need to grow more food. If projections are accurate, we will need to increase food production by 50% over the next three decades to feed everyone. -a dramatic increase in the cost of food and raw materials When I started this blog in 2014, I noted that 2011-2013 had seen the highest food prices on record. So what's happened since then?

It's important to point out here that the current food price spike started in 2020, so if Dr. Fraser's calculations are correct, the food system will collapse sometime around 2034, taking civilization with it. I closed my debut essay on this blog with a quote from the (now deceased) climate scientist Dr. James Lovelock, who advised a Guardian journalist to "enjoy life while you can. Because if you're lucky it's going to be 20 years before it hits the fan." That interview was published in 2008. We have four years left to enjoy.

[fallstaticexit]

Siblings are siblings no matter what age they are.

Prev / Next

Mateo: (using sign language) Eat?

Lyric: I know baby, it’s almost done. Good job using sign to let me know, Mateo!

Lyric: *snorts* Uncle Light Skin finally returning my call.

Mel: Don’t yell. I know I’ve been slacking with reaching out.

Lyric: Now I know where your kids get it from. Am I the only one in this family who knows how a phone works?

Mel: It’s just, I’ve been b-

Lyric: And you better not give me the ‘I’ve been busy’ excuse; we’re all busy, Mr. Showtime. Just call your sister. That’s all.

Lyric: So, what’s going on? Looks like you made it back to Sulani. How’s that going? How’s Loren and Maeve?

Mel: *sighs* Long story. We’re leaving a little earlier than planned. Going to see Adie, Ri, and dad.

Lyric: Did something happen?

Mel: I’ll tell you about it later...

Lyric: Are you sure, Mel?

Mel: I’m sure, sis.

Lyric: You know how I used to have visions when we were kids? Mom said they were just hyperactive dreams, but I saw things, and you and Sonny always believed me.

Mel: Yeah, I remember.

Lyric: I was with our grandmothers this time. All of them. They want us all to be together, Mel. I don’t think we’re supposed to be spread out all over the world and apart for so long.

Mel: I think in a perfect world, we could make that happen.

Lyric: Then why don’t we? Hell, Olive lives in the same city as me and I see her maybe every few months?

Mel: Hold on, Sonny’s calling.

Sonny: Mel- *static* can you hear me? *barking* *snarling*

Mel: Bro, what the hell? Are you doing wolf stuff? Just call me back!

Sonny: What? *howling* *more static*

Mel: *laughs* Henford’s service is so ass, Sonny. How did you survive 20 plus years out there?

Sonny: See, that’s the difference between me and you, City Boy. All I need is wide, open country. That’s the secret to not having patchy facial hair, by the way.

Mel: Yeah, alright. Tell your mama that.

Sonny: Come on man...don’t talk about moms...

Mel: Hold on, I’m gonna add Lyr to the call.

Mel: Look who’s here.

Sonny: Sup, big sis!

Lyric: Woooow, hey stranger! Why do you look so mangy?

Sonny: Sun’s settin’. That’s when me and the pack get to work. Caught a bloodsucker on our property, so I got the boys tearin’ it to shreds now.

Lyric: ...ew.

Lyric: Weeeell, since we’re all here, now I can finally ask—which one of yall narrow asses be telling mom my business?

Sonny: I mean...I might of mentioned things. Mama calls everyday- she get’s lonely...

Mel: Sonny!

Lyric: I knew it!

Mel: Come on, man. That’s like sibling code 101!

Sonny: Well, shit! Maybe it’s the wolf in me that gave me this undying loyalty to my own mama...

Lyric: No, it’s the brat in you, mama’s boy.

Mel: *laughs* Lyr, remember when Sonny was like 6 and he would snitch on everything we did unless it included him?

Lyric: Mhm. And he use to cry when we wouldn’t. He still does.

Sonny: Come on, yall…

[chernabogs]

ERLKÖNIG

Inc: Malleus (/Reader later on), Reader/Prefect, Lilia, Silver, Sebek, Ace, Deuce, Grim, and a lot of fae who should not be in this dimension yet somehow are. Wc: Roughly 9k (Currently sitting at chapter 2/23). Warnings: Violence, reference to war, kidnapping, rituals that fae allegedly did in mythology (wild), psychological horror, body horror (not until much later), and the boys are fighting... a lot. Relies heavily on ancient Celtic and Welsh lore (Tam Lin, Thomas the Rhymer, and Oisin I owe u my life) Summary: Your first encounter with the fae was not in Twisted Wonderland, but rather on the coast of a village your grandmother once lived in—where stones bit into your bare feet and the water poured into your lungs as you were pulled to a world so different from your own. It was by cunning alone that you managed to escape, having since pushed those memories aside. But the fae do not forget—not even when you cross dimensions once more—and as Beltane looms, the time for collecting is near.

Chapter 1 (Prologue) below the cut. Check out the work up to chapter 2 here!

I saw their starved lips in the gloam,

With horrid warning gaped wide,

And I awoke and found me here,

On the cold hill's side.

-  La Belle Dame sans Merci, Keats

19??, Dunhill, Ireland. October.

There is an unsettling truth behind the superstitions we hold. After all, why else do we face horseshoes upright, or close our blinds when the sun begins to set? We did not learn to play mute when we hear our names get called at night for no reason, nor did we discover on a whim that blackbirds circling are harbingers of ill outcomes.  

Your grandmother was a woman of superstition. Because she lived in Dunhill, Ireland, you very rarely had the opportunity to see her growing up. This didn’t mean that you weren’t occasionally shipped out to arrive at her doorstep for a few weeks at a time over the summer months.

Your memories of her appearance are mostly flashes of the few moments you saw her. Knotted joints on her body, silver hair hidden behind a headscarf she always wore, and the way her shoulders would stoop with each shuffling step she took. What you remember more vividly was the way she acted when the two of you went out. Her trembling hands—Parkinson’s, you think your parent may have mentioned—would always press an iron nail into yours to put in your pocket before you departed.

“They like to wait on the coastlines,” she had murmured when you asked why she gave this to you. “And they’ll like you the most.”

She would not offer any further information, nor would she let you out until the nail was securely tucked away. Despite how slowly she would move on your many walks along Benvoy Beach, you never once failed to miss the way her sharp gaze would always be fixated on the unruly seas beyond.

She dies when you’re ten years old. Her funeral is a vivid affair. Your grandmother’s humble home has been transformed into a centre of traffic within a matter of hours since her passing, barely giving your family a moment to breathe despite catching the red-eye flight earlier that day. People you have never seen before shaking your small hand and offering their condolences. The strong fragrance of unknown flowers and cheap perfume fills each room, suffocating out any last semblance of your grandmother that may have still lingered. It feels more like they’re spitting on her memory than honouring it. You know your grandmother—she is, was, a quiet woman, and not one for all this pomp and circumstance.

Perhaps this is why no one notices when you sneak out and down the rocky hills.

You slip on several rocks and scrape up your hands really good by the time your feet hit the familiar sandy beach below. With the way the sun is beginning to set, the waters seem to be a wine-red color, swirling in their chaotic fervour to reach the earth you stand on. You pause to take several breaths before kicking your shoes off and stepping forward into that hungry sea.

Your parent will be furious at you for dirtying up your formal garb, but this isn’t at the forefront of your mind right now as your eyes slide shut and you stretch your arms wide. You feel the wind rush along your body and the fragrance of salt overtake you as you spill your grief into the vast waters, letting it mix and swirl into that abyss for a moment of catharsis.

It’s when the wind carries the scent of something pungent that your eyes snap open again. The foulness is brief, and for a moment you write it off as simply a byproduct of the ocean, until it returns again stronger than before. It smothers the brine and has your head turning to look around for the source. You look over your left shoulder at the empty beach around you. The sun continues to set, and your gaze tracks the path of a gull flying overhead before you look over your shoulder once more.

This time, someone is waiting.  

There is an unsettling truth behind the superstitions we hold. The reason why we are scared of things that try to look like us, why we try so hard to ward them off, is because we know that anything that wants to be like a human certainly has no good intent in their heart. This is the case for the figure you see standing on the beach.

They’re wearing the same dark funeral garb you had seen the others in your grandmother’s home wearing. A wide-brimmed hat sits upon their head to conceal most of their features, although you can see scarlet hairs peeking out, and their hands appear to be clasped behind their back as they stand stoically ahead. Despite the winds that bite at your cheeks, not a single scrap of fabric on the figure’s body moves. It’s as though they’re cut from a painting and placed in real life.

You both observe each other in silence. You can feel your body locking up as your mind chants to you wrong, wrong, wrong, over and over again like a mantra. Your right hand drifts down to your pant pocket—you did not take a nail with you before you left the home.

They like to wait on the coastlines, and they’ll like you the most.

Your breath catches in your throat.

The figure smiles—black, sharp, and not quite human. 

Something in your gut tells you to run and you, even as a rebellious child, do as you’re told. Your body twists around to scramble towards the rocks as your feet slip in the wet sand. You completely discard grabbing your shoes in your haste to get away, fully accepting the agony that the stones ripping into your soles will bring as consequence.

You don’t get very far. Whatever is on the beach with you is far quicker than you will ever be. Within moments of you turning, its cold fingers dig into your shoulders. You scream—cry—as the figure leans down and the pungent aroma of rotting fish emanates with each breath it exhales. You thrash and twist in its grip until you face each other, and you lock eyes with her.  

She looks exactly as she did the last time you saw each other. Same knotted limbs, same silvery hairs, same stoop of her shoulders.

She stares down at you. The wind whips the loose strands of her hair around her face, and her eyes are the cloudy blue of the dead as something begins to claw in your mind. You watch as her thin and cracking lips form the syllables to your name—but it’s lost to the roar of an ever-cacophonous sea. The ground surges up around you, wrapping thorns—thorns? —around your legs. They bite into your skin, draw ruby gems from beneath your frigid flesh, and when you lift your head again, your grandmother merely continues to wear her blackened smile at the sight.

You cry out once more, but just like your name, your pleas are stolen away by the winds.

Everything lasts all but a few moments before the sea finally reaches what it has been clawing for. 

[tobifuyu]

Snowflakes In My Stomach When We’re Kissin’

RAN HAITANI x f!reader

cw: nsfw, mdni, smut, fwb to lovers, oral (male reciving), tiny bit of angsty themes with happy ending, sappy fic, ran being a simp as always to feed my “he’s a self-centered bitch until he finds the one” agenda.

wc: 3.2k

a/n: surprise… i’m back with a christmas present! this is the first fic in a three pieces installment, which can all be read as standalone but come from the same universe and evolve in the span of three different christmases. in case you didn’t know, in japan christmas is a holiday in which people spend time with their partners because they reserve new year’s for family (not only i’ve seen it in a whole lot of shoujo anime but i’ve asked my japanese coworkers to confirm eheh). it’s also customary to eat cake! ;)

“Though you said you just wanted to get a coffee.”

The only thing peeking from the red scarf is the tip of his nose, flushed with the same color of the fabric that’s wrapped around his neck. You imagine his lips curved in a smirk under it.

When he came to pick you up earlier this morning, you thought he made a bold choice pairing the red garment with the unusual color of his hair. Up until then, you always believed red and purple would clash.

But Ran made it work, somehow. Like most things in his life, he did it with a confidence that made you question your world and how you view it even if for just a second.

“Well, that we did,” He shakes his hand, his long fingers easily supporting the weight of the full cup. You can see the steam rise from it and wonder if he’s not drinking it because he’s scared to burn his tongue or because he’s not ready to go home yet.

The two of you are currently walking around Shiba Park, not too far from Roppongi Hills. The peak of Tokyo Tower is hidden in plain sight behind the trees, stripped naked by the season, and adorned by strings of fairy lights.

In daylight they look clear, void of color, and empty, they come alive at night. Just like we both do, thinks Ran.

Ran does like winter. He believes winter poses more opportunities to forgo going out and staying in bed. He loves to gaze out of his apartment’s window and spot rain pit patting against the glass, watching the water droplets leave streaks behind as he lets himself get lulled back to sleep.

He also likes that he can layer more clothes, the more the merrier, he says, it’s easier to style it. You would agree, because he looks particularly elegant with his long black coat, left unbuttoned to glimpse at the nice sweater under it. The sight of his tightly clad body alone ignites a fire inside of you, one that is meek but insistent, and will soon start to burn you inside out.

What Ran doesn’t like it’s the cold. The wind is not fair against his pale skin, it leaves it red and stinging, much like his heart when he wakes up after a night together and doesn’t find you there. He does not like the cold, the cold of the sheets around him when you’ve left hours before.

He would like to pretend he’s clueless as to why, the same way you’re staring at him now, but he knows the reason behind it.

“Are you gonna tell me why we’re wandering around without a destination in freezing weather?

“Can’t you just live a little?”

You scoff at his words, taking another sip out of your hot chocolate to bite back an insult. He’s already testing your patience, and you have very little of it left today of all days.

“We should go eat some cake, I’d love an excuse to grab a Mont Blanc for later at that bakery by your apartment. Y’know I like it there.”

Cake. You don’t like cake, and you don’t like what eating cake with him would mean today of all days.

“Why do you have to make everything so complicated, Ran?” You sigh, head shaking in disappointment.

When you decided to start this with Ran, it was because you believed the man to be on the same wavelength as you. Ran had seemed like someone who knew what he wanted, and you had been sure that was not you.

He had promised that would stay the case. Your heart could not afford to be cared for by somebody.

When you look at him this time, you don’t notice how the wind is whipping the skin of his high cheeks red because his scarf is now covering everything but the lidded eyes staring at you.

At this rate Ran might end up hating winter: you seem to get colder with the season. He doesn’t think he would pick sleeping in over you, so if he could, he would like for summer to last all year long.

He’d like for you to cling to him even when the temperature is so high you can barely breathe in your cramped room, sweat sticking to both your skin and his, like your very first night together.

Because where the holidays bring glee to most, to you they’re a reminder of times that are long gone. A childhood spent decorating the tree and wishing for the perfect Christmas gift, now turned into a life of solitude. Your fast-paced job and lonely apartment away from home don’t leave space for the frivolity of Christmas.

“Didn’t wanna leave you alone,” he speaks so clearly of his intentions you almost feel shame, “Did ya think I would’ve left you bask in your gloominess, today? ‘M not that bad of an ass.”

You don’t think Ran owns you anything. He shouldn’t be picking up the pieces of you that other people left scattered and putting them back together as if it were a kids’ puzzle.

Ran knows you don’t really have anyone, he thinks he’s much like you, and would be just as bitter if he didn’t have his brother.

“You left Rin by himself?”

You hear his muffled laughter, “‘course not. Haruchiyo’s there. Y’know how they are.”

Yes. In love, you suppose. And you wonder if Ran thinks that is what it is. And what is it between you two?

You can feel his body warmth as he gravitates closer to you, “‘M cold,” is his excuse when his now ungloved hand catches yours. He intertwines your fingers, brushing the back of your hand with his thumb, before hiding them away in his coat pocket.

Gotta warm your cold heart up, he thinks.

“Saving you from this freezing weather,” is what he says out loud.

But you know it’s because the movement brings you closer, he pulls you so you’re now shoulder to shoulder, and you’re not strong enough to keep your head from falling on his. As if you were fresh snow in the sun, you melt in his presence.

“Let’s go get cake,” your voice is but a soft whisper, running past him like the breeze through the dying leaves, the wind finally settling down.

And that’s how he ends up in your apartment. Sounds of wet skin slapping against one another fill the void as he buries himself deep inside of you.

The sweet pastries Ran bought long forgotten over your kitchen counter, as he’d much rather taste the honeyed nectar spilling from between your thighs.

He’s grabbing at them now, the hold on your flesh sure to leave marks behind as he folds your legs so that he can loop his arms under your knees, keeping you spread open for him.

Big body caging you under his warmth with his forehead pressed against yours, and open mouths a breath away from the other, sharing sounds of pleasure without ever meeting in the middle.

It had been a tantalizing dance when you first started sleeping together. Like most people in your situation, you had both concluded that it would be best if you refrained from kissing. Deeming it too intimate.

Ran had caved after the third time you ended up in his bed, lips too needy to be kept from yours. He had let out a soft plead before you met him in the middle.

From then on you made it your mission to never kiss him outside of your bedroom activities, too scared of the power his kisses held over you. He and his annoying self had taken it as a challenge, always on the edge of his seat waiting to see who’d kiss the other first.

“Oh fuck this,” Ran groans before giving in.

You catch sight of his eyelids fluttering shut, hiding that violet color that you love so much, and your lips lock in a kiss that takes your breath as much as the hips still snapping against yours.

The coarse patch of hair on his navel repeatedly brushes against your puffed-up clit, making your hips jump up to chase the friction. The man is shamelessly shallowing your moans and caressing your tongue with his, teeth closing around your bottom lip when you go to pull away.

“Ngh, you taste like cake.”

Ran had snuck a bite of one of the pieces the moment he stepped out of the bakery, and the sweet taste on his tongue was, in your opinion, way better than the real deal.

His hand grasps your chin with firmness, the tips of his fingers squeezing your cheeks and making your blushed lips pucker up.

“So you do like cake, mh?”

“No, I don-“ Ran squeezes harder, and your mouth parts. A glob of spit falls on your tongue, one that you shallow under his scrutinizing gaze.

The moan that he lets out at that reverberates through your chest as he bends so close your bodies are now completely pressed against one another, sharing body heat.

This is what sex with Ran is, a concoction of rough touches and fucking that turn soft and slow when you least expect it. He likes to tease and surprise you, stealing the prettiest sounds from your lips and making them his. Making you his.

“Y’don’t like cake, s’okay. I know you like me,” one of his hands teasingly pinches your right nipple, respective eye closing in a wink.

You like that he makes sex fun, cracking jokes as if his cock weren’t pumping inside of you. You like it, you like him, but you can’t have him know that.

“That’s not-“ he interrupts you once again, this time with the snapping of his hips. He starts fucking you like he means it. Calculated thrusts hitting against the sweet spot only he knows how to find.

Ran is on his knees now, hands firmly planted on your raised hips, guiding you back and forth over his length.

“Fuck! Ran, fuck that feels good- so good-“

Slurred words leave your panting mouth as your hands hold onto the pillow behind your head for dear life, back arched and chest exposed to the greedy eyes that are raking over your body. From your perked-up nipples, begging to be played with, to the way your cunt is stretching around his cock.

“Don’t have enough hands for the things I wanna do to you,” Nonetheless, he repositions his right one so that it’s splayed over your navel, thumb reaching down to rub tight circles on your slicked clit.

“Fuckin’ cunt squeezing me so good,” moans spill from your mouth at his words, his voice is strained but maintains that hint of icy superiority and poise that is characteristic of Ran.

The way your hole flutters around him is maddening, Ran can feel your walls clenching against his length so perfectly. He can feel everything.

As a matter of fact, so do you. No matter how dumb he fucks you, you can’t ever miss out on the sweet feeling of his bare skin caressing your wet cunt. The squelching sounds are filling the air around you, making your cheeks heat up and your head lull to the side, trying to avoid his eyes in shame.

Half face buried in the pillow, you beg for him, “Ran, please, please. I need to cum so bad.”

His thrusts slow down, thumb stilling over your clit, and you hear him hum, pensive.

“Maybe if you looked at me, pretty, I might think about letting you.”

Gathering your remaining strength, you open your eyes to the sight of his glorious body above yours.

The wetness of his skin shines under the light of the outside street lamp, peeking in from the window, full body tattoo so enchanting, you watch it move and bend over his rising chest.

With violet eyes fixed on yours, he stands tall, unreachable.

The purple strands that fall from his gelled-back hairstyle are the only giveaway that he’s not so perfect and pristine after all, but he still looks like a god in your devoted eyes.

“Ran,” you call his name so softly he tumbles from the skies right to you.

His body bends to lay over yours, weight supported by his arms at your sides. With a snap of his hips, he breaks the longing stare you’re both sharing, mushroom tip hitting the spot that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Oh my god, that feels so-“ “I know, baby, s’okay.” One of his hands caresses over your head, before stopping at your neck and closing around your windpipe. The pressure of his touch against your feverish skin is delicious.

Your nails are now creating indents in the flesh of his arms. You want more, you need him to break you.

Ran can’t stop thrusting, pounding, burying himself inside of you to the hilt. He’s never wanted to be this close to someone before, never needed their warmth as he does yours.

He stops you before you can reach your clit with your fingers and, wanting to be the one to take you over the edge, he uses his free hand to rub over it vehemently.

“Coming, I’m coming,” are the rushed words that fall from your lips before you hit your peak. Wanton moans are gracing Ran’s ears, making his balls strain from holding back, but he wants you to bask in the glow of your orgasm before he reaches his.

“Doin’ so well fo’ me, look at this pretty pussy. Gushing all over my cock.” He looks down as he says this, watching how good he’s splitting you open, his cock coming out of you covered with the white sheen of your arousal, then plunging back in.

Your spent body is overstimulated, twitching in his hold as if trying to run away from the pleasure.

“You’re the only one, baby.” Ran lets slip, the sight of you in your most vulnerable state makes him just as weak, “S’all yours, so take it.” And he means it, you’re the only one.

Before you, life used to be in black and white. Ran had tried everything to paint it some other color, from violence to sex, but nothing ever came close to holding you in his arms.

Color is always all around him, but Ran’s devoid of it until you touch him.

You pull him down to you at the confession, arms wrapped around his neck, chests pressed against one another, hard nipples tickling the soft skin.

The pace suddenly turns slow, and you wonder if Ran does not care about coming anymore. His focus is on you, and you’re staring back at him with just as much affection.

“Let me take care of you,” it’s what you suggest once you’ve come down from your high, fingers pressing against his shoulders to have him lay back in the sheets. Short hair sprawled over the white pillow like a halo behind his troubled head.

Both of your thighs are circling his hips, too scared to have Ran pull out, and be prevailed by that sense of emptiness and cold that comes from being away from him.

Fighting a whirlpool of emotions, you feel the need to silence your mind with his lips on yours. The clashing of your noses does nothing to stop you from kissing each other passionately.

The blame should be on Ran for making you fall for him and gifting you a brand new reason to celebrate Christmas, but you should’ve known better when he walked into your life with that snarky smirk that makes you sigh just thinking about it. You bite his lip in retaliation.

The feeling of Ran’s hands traveling over your skin and sinking with his strong grip on the flesh of your hips is what makes you separate your two halves, pussy clenching around the length that has been filling you up so perfectly. The need to make him feel just as good swells up on the inside.

“Fuck, please,” A choked whisper, falling from the pearlescent of his lips, wet with your love, blood pouring out of the bitten skin.

Purple and red do look good together, you think.

Your hands are warm, trailing up his stomach like the ink on his skin. He feels as if you’re moving too fast, scared he might blink and lose the moment, and at the same time too slow for his liking. He’s begging and he doesn’t know what he’s begging for. But you do.

Ran’s hands tighten around the bedsheets. He wants to touch everywhere you’ve been, wants to get stained in you. Like fresh paint that sticks on skin, he’s now colored in your shades.

Wet kisses are being left on the top of his shaft. Ran’s right hand finds your hair, waving his fingers between the loose strands to uncover the sight of your pretty face.

Lidded eyes are watching you glide your tongue down his hardness, caressing the bluish veins running across its sides, tasting yourself on it.

When your lips wrap around his sensitive tip you have to hold down his hips with both hands.

The peace you set is slow, taking him in your mouth inch by inch. His girth stretches your lips and he thumbs the lower one as you look up at him with tears forming at your lashline.

“Mouth feels like fucking heaven, angel.”

Ran can barely contain himself, dangling from the edge, his balls heavy with his release.

When your nose is buried in the hair at the base of his cock, you know you’ve successfully taken him whole. A huge accomplishment on your part, considering how blessed he is.

With your throat clenching around him, it doesn’t take long to feel him twitch in your mouth.

“Yeah, pretty girl, just like that. Make me cum, fuck!”

Bobbing your head at his request, you’re hasty in sucking your checks around his length, letting him come on the back of your tongue with languid moans that contain your name.

No need for him to ask, you’re one step ahead by swallowing his semen, making a show of it before leaving a wet kiss on his tip, to collect the white drop that was spilling over.

“Better than any cake.”

Booming laughter fills the space around you as you scoot closer to his tired body, laying on his naked frame and stealing all his warmth.

“I do like you.”

“I know,” Ran looks down at you, left check cutely smushed against his pecs, “Let’s spend New Year’s together.”

The faint movement of your hair brushing his skin tells him you’re agreeing, “And what about… next year?”

“Let’s spend them all together.”

You’re warm in his hold, and he figures the fairy lights might’ve come on in the park.

Ran thinks back to the rest of the untouched cake on your kitchen counter and is happy enough that the two of you have exchanged Christmas gifts in your own special way.

After all, he took away the cold, and you’ve brightened up his life.

That’s more of what you could’ve wished for.

[theemporium]

38 and 53 for charles leclerc ff the smut promos list pleaseeee 💞

send in a prompt + name

38. "I'll let you do anything if you just touch me now"

53. "you're more than just a one night stand"

.

It was a mistake. 

A mistake the two of you decided was a one time deal and promised to never discuss again. A mistake that should have never happened in the first place. A mistake that would drag you both down if it ever got out. 

When you were introduced into the world of Formula One, the public knew you as one of the closest—if not the closest—best friend of Max Verstappen. Max was young and bright and ready to really start his career after signing with Red Bull Racing. You were his supportive best friend who dabbled in and out of races between your years at university and work. 

However, things started to change once you graduated and suddenly you were in the paddock for more than a weekend here or there. 

And suddenly, you were bumping into the likes of Charles Leclerc—a boy you knew so much of and yet nothing about. 

In the earlier years of Max’s career, Charles was nothing but the nuisance that Max would constantly complain about. He was the boy who drove recklessly, who was unfair, who would constantly push him off the track. 

As the boys got older and matured, Charles was just another face amongst the other Formula One drivers who you’d hear the odd thing about, here and there. Max was far more friendly with the boy, but their dinners out or time spent together never seemed to coincide with whenever you were in town. 

You officially met the Ferrari driver after the Monaco Grand Prix—and that was when the first of many mistakes were made. 

You kissed him. 

You shouldn’t have. You really shouldn’t have. In fact, you should have never been out on that balcony in the first place. You should be out with the rest of the team, celebrating the fact your best friend just won one of the most prestigious races in motorsport history. 

But instead you were on a balcony with someone who could be considered his enemy, listening to the way he sounded so defeated about letting down his home country once again, and you just couldn’t help yourself from leaning over and placing your lips on his. 

The second mistake was just a few weeks later when a double Red Bull DNF and a grump Max made you take solace in some other paddock friends (knowing Max just needed space to be grumpy before he talked about it), and instead of dancing all night with friends, you found yourself hidden in the corner of some club making out with a certain Monegasque man. 

The biggest mistake was not even a week or so later, another country for another grand prix, only this time you had lost Max and the others and instead found yourself in Charles Leclerc’s hotel room. 

It all led you to now—summer break for the Formula One season—where you promised your best friend you would spend time with him in Monaco.

Except, instead of Max’s apartment, you were in his rival’s on the other side of Monte Carlo. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you murmured against his lips, the plush sofa beneath your knees making it comfortable as you straddled the driver in the dimly lit living room. “This is a bad idea.” 

“It’s a great idea,” he argued as his head ducked down to press kisses down the column of your neck. 

“It’s a mistake,” you said firmly, but maybe you were trying to convince yourself more so than the boy underneath you. 

“All five times?” Charles humoured. 

“Those were one night stands,” you muttered, knowing full well you should be pulling away, creating some distance between you both as you spoke. “They didn’t mean anything—“ 

“You’re more than just a one night stand, cherie,” Charles groaned, hands around your waist tightening almost like he could read the thoughts in your head that wanted to move away from him. “You know that.” 

And maybe deep down you did. 

At least you knew he was different from every other one night stand you had before. You knew that the feelings you harboured for the Ferrari driver were stronger than you had felt for anyone before. You knew that you never enjoyed kissing someone the same way you did with him, or touching them too. 

You knew that Charles Leclerc was like nothing and no one you had ever experienced before. 

“What are we doing?” you whispered softly, your hands resting on his chest with his racing heart beating wildly beneath your palm. 

“We are enjoying each other and the pleasure we give each other,” he told you, his lips tracing over your pulse and you could have sworn you felt his lips twitch when your breath hitched. “And I can promise you I am enjoying every single moment of it.”

Your hands slid down his chest, pausing at the waistband of his sweatpants as you fiddled with the drawstrings. “Yeah?” 

He gulped a little. “Yeah.” 

“You enjoy me touching you, Leclerc?” 

The teasing tone of your voice wasn’t lost on Charles, not at all. But it was hard for him to even bite back when your fingers dipped beyond the waistband, your fingers wrapping around his cock and squeezing him in a way that made every thought in his head just stop.

“Shit,” he hissed between clenched teeth as his head fell to rest on your shoulder.

“That doesn’t sound very encouraging,” you murmured as your thumb swiped along the head of his cock, a soft whine escaping his lips as you did so.

“Baby, please,” he moaned, his soft pants fanning against the skin of your neck as he spoke. 

“Words, Charlie.” 

“I–” But the boy only let out a pathetic whine when you pulled your hand away, and it was quick reflexes that had his hands clamping down on your waist before you could jump off his lap completely. 

“I said words, baby, can’t do anything unless you say it,” you teased lightly, your palm pressing down the bulge in his sweatpants.

“Anything,” he rasped in a husky voice, his accent coating his words thicker. “I’ll let you do anything if you just touch me now.”

You had to bite down on your bottom lip to hide your grin. “Anything?” 

“Anything,” he confirmed. 

“Get those sweatpants off, Leclerc,” you ordered him as you shuffled off his lap, your knees hitting the soft carpet. “I want your cock in my mouth.” 

Charles groaned, muttered prayers whispered under his breath as he quickly shed his sweatpants to the side.

.

[sweetestpopcorn]

Hello popcorn! Could you send me the link to the source that says that Daemon didn't exist in Martin's drafts? please

Hi there,

A very special thank you to @xenonwitch who helped me to answer this ask and retrieved most of the screenshots used here :) you rock lady!

So, there is multiple evidence highlighting that Daemon was not created until around 2012, which would mean his character was born only after the release of "A Dance with Dragons", more specifically around the time "The World of Ice and Fire" was being written by Elio and Linda with George's help. It was around this time that George wrote the Dance and created I would say most of the information and characters we know of today. He actually gave Elio and Linda so much material that they couldn't use it all and afterwards George published much of it in the short stories "The Princess and the Queen" and "The Rogue Prince", even later (around 2017) using it when he compiled his fake history in "Fire and Blood". If you go to the original link of the screenshot below here you can the sources listed in the text for yourself

It is no secret that since he began writing A Game of Thrones, that George has changed several aspects of the Targaryens. For instance, Rhaenyra was originally only one year older than Aegon II, though as confirmed by Elio that they were never meant to be fully-blooded siblings and from the first family tree in 1999 George meant for Rhaenyra to have an Arryn mom and Aegon a Hightower mom originally named Lysa (hehe). I think Alicent has a much better ring to it personally. Later he actually changed their age difference from 1 year to 9 years, and later still to a decade's difference. I do remember a time when it was 9 years actually instead of the 10. But with Rhaenyra being born in 97 AC and Aegon in 107 AC that would make it 10 years.

Aegon III and Viserys II have existed since the original family tree, but of the two originally only Aegon III was Rhaenyra's son. Viserys was meant to Aegon III's fourth son. George changed this when he realised timeline wise it wouldn't work.

I do own an edition in which this is shown in the appendix but currently I don't have it with me. However, if someone else has it feel free to add it to this thread.

There were other changes to the story being made throughout the years, including some confusion regarding who Alysanne's father was, and while doing the research for this I actually saw that it was never Maegor unlike I know many of us thought.

Critically, a number of changes were done to the character of Rhaenyra. First she had been given a Lannister husband with whom she had no children. This was no earlier than 1999. Later, that was changed for him to become Lyonel Strong, Hand of the King, with whom she would have three (legitimate) children that would all perish during the Dance.

Below you can see the information regarding House Strong while Lyonel was her husband and this is from “A Song of Ice and Fire Campaign Guide” published July 2010:

There was a male Targaryen she was known to have married after husband#1 who would father Aegon III and in this moment of time Viserys III. But no other information was known about him. This was Rhaenyra's wiki page from 2013. Once again, no Daemon.

In fact, around this time people were speculating what was her relationship with Targaryen Husband with suggestions ranging from brother to cousin.

Also note what Elio says regarding "A really notable figure or two are completely missing."

Discussion goes on, and yes, it does seem he only came to be as a character in 2012. There was evidence of some foundation being lain for him, but nothing concrete - i.e., no name, no specific relationship to her, no details whatsoever, just a male Targaryen figure who would be the father of Aegon III and Viserys II

And even more importantly and related to my point that Daemon did NOT exist in the first version of George's family tree has noted by Elio himself below:

Other evidence of him not existing comes from the main books themselves where although many characters are mentioned, including a Hand named Otto Hightower - you can look for this yourself, sorry I don't have the electronic copies and this was already a lot of work for me and xenonwitch so this is your homework hehe - there is no mention whatsoever of Daemon Targaryen.

This is particularly compelling since many other Targaryens are mentioned either when they are specifically talking about them remembering them, OR when something they created appears - e.g., the Sept that Baelor erected, the Red Keep Maegor had build etc. Yet there is no mention of Daemon anywhere with relation to the Gold Cloaks, something that would be mandatory given his established importance to them, critically the fact that he gave the City Watch their gold cloaks, which yes is a thing in the main books, but the same cannot be said of Daemon Targaryen. This would have been another great opportunity to mention him, as notable members of the City Watch, just like Prince Aemon the Dragonknight is mentioned as a notable member of the Kingsguard. But once again, no mention of Daemon is given.

Yet another opportunity would be in relation to Daemon Blackfyre who existed and who we are told in "The World of Ice and Fire" to have been named after Daena's grandfather who she admired. Yet once again, this does not happen. Related to this please see the point made by Elio above regarding him not existing when Daemon Blackfyre was created. That was added AD - After Daemon, whose earliest mention was, as far as evidence shows, at around 2012-2013.

Lesson of the day, like much the rest of what George writes, Targaryen history was a garden that he shaped along the way. Crucial aspects of the story were missing from "A Game of Thrones" all the way to the last book "A Dance with Dragons".

If one wants to talk about the books one needs to use and refer to "Fire and Blood" (Conquest to Dance) and "The World of Ice and Fire" (post-Dance) which holds up until now the most accurate and true information about the pre-asoiaf characters. Referring to books like "A Feast for Crows" is pointless and shows a lack of understanding of how the Targaryen history and pre-asoiaf history was written, and can only result in statements and information that used to be true and canon, but no longer are true or canon, and characterization of certain character becoming non-canon.

If a butterfly can change the course of history, try to imagine what you get when you base your Rhaenyra on an account where there was no Daemon.

In sum, no, George was not even close to having all of his history and pre-asoiaf characters during his writing of the main books. Yes, he changed a lot and we need to update content published before "The World of Ice and Fire". Daemon Targaryen remains a fairly new character in his universe, and one you will only get to fully enjoy and understand the genius of if you consider the ASOIAF version of his character.

[miss-bushido]

you make me feel like I am home again

Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember week 2: prompts ‘backseat’ and ‘clothes on’

Rating: Explicit (very explicit)

October 3, 1988

Steve leaned against the column just outside of the Arrivals exit at the airport, lightly tapping his finger against his arm. Eddie’s flight had been delayed coming in from Boston: he’d opted to take a different flight than the other guys so he could take a quick trip up to Salem and see all the quote-unquote spooky shit up there. Steve had teased him about coming back with a witch’s hat or a spell book or something, and Eddie had threatened to put a spell on him if he didn’t be quiet. Steve had laughed and pretended he was going through a tunnel and had to go.

“You’re on the phone in the kitchen!” Eddie had scream-laughed as Steve made his words fade in and out before he clearly yelled back, “See you at midnight!” and then hung up.

Delayed Flight 5498 now arriving from Boston. Baggage will be available at carousel number 4 sounded over the speakers.

Steve checked his watch as he stifled a yawn and shifted his stance. He was tired- it was after midnight after all- but he knew that he was going to get a burst of energy soon. Being around Eddie always did that. His energy was infectious even under normal circumstances. Especially when he hit you with that dimpled smile. God, it made Steve weak every time.

It would be more potent now considering how long it had been since they’d been in such close proximity to one another. Eddie and the other members of Corroded Coffin had done a mini-tour of the Northeast and Mid-Atlantic. Their Wraiths on Wings Tour had started in late August, kicking off in Indianapolis before moving to Cleveland, Columbus, Baltimore, Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, Syracuse, New Haven, Providence, and finally culminated with two nights in Boston. Steve had only been able to go to the one in Indianapolis, but he’d been more than happy to support Eddie doing something he loved. On the numerous phone calls they’d shared after each gig was done, Eddie had gushed about how electrifying it was to be on stage. How fucking awesome it was to be able to play on the same stages that bands like Dokken, Metallica, and Iron Maiden had years before.

Steve was so proud of Eddie, and the other guys, and he always made sure to let Eddie know that. The praise always made Eddie’s tone turn soft on the phone, almost bashful. Whenever Steve heard Eddie ask, “You really mean it, Stevie?”, that was when he dialled up the praise: telling Eddie what a good boy he was, how hardworking and dedicated he was. And all of the things Steve was going to do for him once he got his hands on him again. He sincerely hoped that none of the switchboard operators of the hotels they stayed at ever listened in on their phone calls, or else they would have gotten an earful of the lead singer of Corroded Coffin and his boyfriend having phone sex more than a few times while the guys were on the tour.

Apart from the quick call earlier in the day, the two of them hadn’t been able to connect before the show in New Haven five days prior. As it was, Steve was itching to get his hands on Eddie more so than normal. The fact that the flight had been delayed was like rubbing salt in the wound. He just hoped deplaning and getting the baggage wouldn’t take too long. And while he didn’t drive like Eddie did, he was planning to go a little bit faster to get them back to their apartment sooner rather than later.

About ten minutes later, he saw the shadow of a familiar figure making its way through the arrivals corridor towards him. It rounded the corner, and there stood Eddie: looking every inch the rockstar sex god he showed to the world. He had developed an on-stage persona to play to the audience, which allowed him to separate a little from how he acted onstage to how he was normally. Onstage Eddie was more cocksure, ten times more brash, and he exaggerated his movements as he played and sang, really milking the sexy rockstar angle. The clothes he wore- tight black jeans, a tank top with a deep v-neck (or sometimes no shirt at all), combat boots, studded bracelets- and the way he carried himself fed into this, and the audience couldn’t get enough of it.

Eddie looked up and broke into a big grin as he saw Steve at the end of the corridor waiting for him. It wasn’t Onstage Eddie. It was His Eddie. Still sexy and brash, of course, but also nerdy; shy at times (which always surprised Steve when those times happened); in constant motion even when he was sitting down; and happy to stay in rather than going out and partying.

Steve stood up straight and gave him a little wave, immediately holding out his hand for Eddie’s suitcase as the distance between them closed. The Warlock was in its case across Eddie’s back, and Steve had learned very early on that only Eddie would carry his beloved guitar. “Good flight?” Steve asked as they fell into step, moving out of the airport and into the cold damp air of the Indiana night. “How was Salem?”

“Decent flight,” Eddie answered, brushing his hair away from his face. “Salem was nice. Kind of crowded, though. I want to go again. One day wasn’t enough to see everything.”

“Did you get a spell book?” Steve asked as they approached the Beemer. He opened the trunk and put the suitcase in, letting Eddie maneuver his guitar on top of it, before they both got in the car.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Eddie asked as he buckled up.

Steve shook his head, giving him a smirk as he started up the car. The radio came to life at the same time the engine did, the last few chords and lyrics of ‘Hazy Shade of Winter’ by The Bangles filling up the car. As Steve drove them out of the parking lot and down the road, INXS’ ‘Don’t Change’ came on.

Eddie smiled. “I actually don’t hate this song.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, putting on the windshield wipers as he turned onto the dark back road. “Really? I didn’t realize you listened to INXS.” It was beginning to drizzle, so he slowed down a little.

“Not usually,” he admitted. “Just this one song.” He turned his head to look at Steve, the orange glow of the passing street lights reflecting in his eyes as they drove. “It makes me think of you.” As if the radio heard him, the lyrics he was thinking of came on, and he couldn’t help singing along with Michael Hutchence:

Resolution of happiness, Things have been dark for too long. Don't change for you, Don't change a thing for me

Steve reached over and took Eddie’s hand in his, bringing it up to kiss the back of it. “You’re sweet.”

“You’re just saying that to get into my pants,” Eddie countered, sliding over a little. He kissed Steve’s wrist and took his hand back, sliding it up Steve’s arm and onto the nape of his neck. He used his nails to slide up the back of Steve’s head, feeling him shudder at the touch.

“Babe,” Steve breathed, adjusting in his seat. “I’m driving.”

“I know,” Eddie said, massaging the back of Steve’s scalp. He leaned in closer and kissed Steve’s neck. “You look so sexy. And I don’t know if I can wait until we get back home.” He placed his other hand on Steve’s inner thigh, mere inches from his dick. Steve gasped and gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“I’ve really missed you, Stevie,” Eddie purred, sliding his hand from Steve’s inner thigh to his bulge. He squeezed him lightly, his own moan echoing Steve’s at the feeling of his cock pulsing inside his jeans. “I want to taste you, baby.”

Steve groaned loudly, slowing down as he pulled the car over, the gravel crunching under the tires as he made his way off of the road. As soon as he put the car in ‘Park’, he undid his seatbelt, and pulled Eddie almost onto his lap to kiss him in one fluid motion.

Eddie smiled against Steve’s lips, fumbling for the seatbelt to unhook it. Once he did, he straddled Steve, kissing him hungrily, hips grinding against him. “God, fuck, I need you so badly.” he groaned.

“Me too,” Steve moaned, sliding his hands up into Eddie’s hair. He moved his leg and hit his knee on the steering wheel. “Ow,” he hissed.

“Backseat?” Eddie asked, almost breathless with desire.

“Backseat,” Steve agreed.

Both of them scrambled over the front seat and into the back, limbs tangling as they resituated in the backseat. Steve pulled Eddie back on his lap, hands sliding up the back of his shirt. The familiar feel of his skin and the muscles underneath made Steve gasp. “God, I missed the feel of you,” he said against Eddie’s mouth. “I missed your mouth, how you taste.”

“I missed you, too, baby,” Eddie moaned, breath catching in his throat as he rolled his hips, feeling Steve’s erection below his own. “I want all of you. Your taste, your smell, all of the sounds you make. The phone calls helped, but it wasn’t the same. How you sound in person? Fuck. It was all I could hear in my dreams.”

Steve tilted his head back, sliding down in the seat. The new position made Eddie loom over him, his hair falling around them. “I want to fuck you. I need you so much,” he rasped.

Eddie grinned, all teeth, as he resumed kissing Steve. His hands travelled between them, quickly undoing Steve’s belt and the button on his jeans. He unzipped him and gave his jeans a tug. Just enough to move them from his hips to the middle of his ass. It allowed his briefs to be pulled down, too, so Steve’s cock could be released from the cotton confines of the briefs.

Putting his thumb in his mouth, Eddie sucked on his finger pad. “Touch me, Steve,” he breathed.

Steve made short work of getting Eddie’s cock out of his jeans, too. Steve’s tip was wet, but Eddie’s was wetter, precum streaming out of him to drip down onto Steve’s lap. He let out a deep groan at the sight of his boyfriend’s cock, mouth watering at the image of wrapping his lips around it.

“Thought about you every night, Steve,” Eddie rasped, rubbing his wet thumb over the tip of Steve’s cock, making his hips jerk forward. He wrapped the rest of his hand around him and began stroking, the slick sounds of precum filling the car. “Thought about deep throating you, spreading your legs on the bed and fucking you hard into the mattress. Thought about cumming all over your face, having you lick all of it up and then beg me for more.” Steve let out a sharp gasp at this, eyes rolling back into his head.

“Thought about you too, Eds,” he managed, panting hard as Eddie stroked him and put all those pretty images in his mind. “Thought about eating you out from behind while I stroked your cock. Thought about you using your handcuffs on me to keep me in bed, fucking me over and over until we’re both spent.” As Steve spoke, he had also begun stroking Eddie.

“Stevie,” Eddie whimpered, closing his eyes as he bent forward, his forehead resting on Steve’s shoulder. “Oh fuck I’m so fucking close.”

“Me too,” Steve gasped. “I thought about you riding me, my hands gripping your hips as I fucked deep into you. Your cock was dripping all over me, and when you came, you covered my chest and stomach. And after I came deep inside you, I fingered you until you came again while you straddled my shoulders and your cock was deep in my throat. So I could get every drop you had to give me.”

“STEVE!” Eddie shouted, hips thrusting forward as he came hard, the loud groan turning into a whine. “Oh my Go-o-o-od!”

The sight and sounds Eddie made meant Steve followed with his own orgasm no less than ten seconds later. He repeated Eddie’s name over and over before he kissed him hard, still feeling himself pulsing for a good minute afterwards.

Eddie caught his breath first, giving a few breathy chuckles as he pushed his hair out of his face. The back of his neck was sweaty, his cheeks were flushed and his throat was raw. “That was so fucking hot!” he exclaimed.

“Mmm,” Steve hummed in agreement, blindly reaching with his free hand for the hand towel he kept in the back of the front seat. Ostensibly, it was to get rid of condensation on the windows, which he did use it for: they had steamed the car up something fierce. It was also a good way for them to quickly clean up.

Eddie kissed him hard before he threw himself to the right, extricating himself from Steve’s lap so he could catch his breath and get his pants back up. He watched as Steve did the same, cheeks ruddy and mouth wet as he got himself together. “Let’s shower together when we get home,” he said, reaching out to run his hand up Steve’s arm.

“Yes,” Steve breathed, leaning over to kiss Eddie on the mouth. “I want to fuck you on the stairs before I eat you out in the shower.” He gave Eddie’s lower lip a quick bite before pulling away. With a grunt, he pulled himself back into the driver’s seat, getting himself situated once more.

Meanwhile, in the backseat, Eddie watched Steve, wondering how he’d gotten so lucky to deserve him. His sweet, handsome, surprisingly kinky partner. He zipped his own jeans up and moved back to the passenger seat. “Sounds like you’ve had this planned, huh?”

Steve gave him a smirk as he put the car back in Drive and started off down the road. “I guess you’ll just have to find out when we get back to the house.”

“It wasn’t a spell book,” Eddie said abruptly.

“What?” Steve asked, confused until their earlier conversation came back to him. “Oh. What was it?”

Eddie didn’t immediately answer. It was only when they were at a red light, about two miles from home that he finally said, “It was two rings.”

Steve bodily turned to look at Eddie, eyes wide and shining at the implications of this purchase. “Eddie,” he breathed.

Eddie leaned over and kissed Steve on the lips. “Get us home, big boy, and I’ll give you one of them.”

Steve seemed at a loss for words until Eddie kissed him again. “However far away,” he sang-spoke quietly, “I will always love you.”

“However long I stay,” Steve responded, also sing-speaking, voice thick with emotion, “I will always love you.” He kissed Eddie once more and then leaned back, wiping his eyes. “Since when do you listen to The Cure?”

“Not usually,” Eddie answered, watching as Steve continued the drive back to their house. As he parked in the driveway, Eddie continued, “Just this one song. It makes me think of you.”

[foggieststars]

For the one word prompt: landoscar (fireworks)

this got very long and slightly angsty ... enjoy <3

-

Oscar finds Lando hours after the crowds have gone home, when the trophies have been packed neatly away into boxes, fireworks still firing into the sky, exploding in a blaze of glorious colour.

He's on a balcony at the rear of the McLaren motorhome, watching the empty track. There's a champagne flute dangling loosely from his fingers, chin propped up on his hand.

"You alright?" Oscar asks, hovering nervously.

Lando doesn't acknowledge that Oscar's spoken, so Oscar moves forward until they're standing next to each other. "Lando," he says, quieter. "Can we talk?"

Lando snorts, the first noise Oscar's heard from him since they'd toasted to Oscar's final race with McLaren, hours ago now. Oscar had meant to find him earlier, but everyone had wanted to say goodbye to him. He'd been unexpectedly touched by it; all these people, even mechanics from Lando's side of the garage, coming up to shake his hand, wish him good luck with his new team.

New team. The words still send a tingle of anxiety down Oscar's spine, even though he thinks it's the right choice. When you cut through the haze of emotion, sever the messy ties of loyalty and indebtedness, you're left with nothing but cold, hard facts.

The car had been good, so it had made sense to stay. The car is no longer that good, so it makes sense to leave.

It's something Mark's excellent at. It's something Oscar's trying hard to be good at.

It's something Lando's never been great at.

"Lando," Oscar repeats, shifting so that their shoulders are touching. He can see Lando's face like this, silhouetted alternately in hazes of red, blue and gold, fireworks crackling above their heads. "C'mon."

Oscar hates having talks like this. Lando never makes it easy.

"What, Oscar?" Lando says, voice rough. His eyes are shiny in the light. "What'd you want me to say? Goodbye? See you later? Keep in touch?"

Lando shakes his head, and his curls bounce. He's grown his hair out in recent years. Oscar likes it, though he thinks fondly of the scruffy mop Lando had had when they'd met for the first time. When Lando stuck his hand out for Oscar to shake and said, "Alright? Welcome aboard."

"Something like that would be a start," Oscar says, voice hoarse.

Lando sighs, tilts his glass so the small amount of liquid in it wobbles precariously. It's no longer bubbly; gone flat in the heat.

"I don't want to say any of that," Lando says. "Fuck, Oscar. I don't want any of this."

Oscar doesn't know what he means. Doesn't want Oscar to leave? It feels - too hopeful, maybe. Doesn't want a new teammate is more likely. Lando hates alterations to his routine, things which threaten to upset the fragile ecosystem of his world.

"We had a good run though, didn't we?" Oscar offers, nudging Lando's shoulder with his own.

Lando shrugs, sulky and petulant. Oscar hates it when he gets like this. He always feels like he's saying the wrong thing, winding Lando up even more. Five years as teammates, three years of - whatever this is, and still Oscar's never been able to figure him out. Never managed to untangle the thorny snarls in Lando's mind, work out what makes him tick.

"Whatever, mate," Lando finally says, standing up straight and draining his glass. He plonks it down on a nearby table, so hard that Oscar practically feels the reverberations in his bones.

Oscar catches his wrist as he turns to go, pulls Lando into his body. There's not much height difference between them, but it comes in handy on occasions like this. Lando resists him at first, and then curls into Oscar, tucking his face into the side of his neck.

Even when he's in a bad mood, all he ever wants is someone to reach out and touch him, reassure him that it's all going to be okay.

"'s not like I'm going far," Oscar points out, pressing the words into Lando's curls like a kiss. "I'll literally be one garage over."

Lando makes a wounded noise, like the reminder of it is too much.

"And I'll be at your flat all the time this break, if you'll let me."

Lando stills against his body, and then pulls back. "Oh," he says, surprised. "What, really?"

Oscar's eyebrows twitch together. "Um, yeah?" he says, laughing nervously. "I barely even keep any of my stuff at my flat anymore. It'd be a bit annoying to have to buy a new telly. Mine broke like a year ago."

"Right," Lando says, eyes bouncing around, unable to settle on any one thing for too long. "Right - okay. So, like. You still want to - do this, then?" he asks, gesturing between their bodies.

Oscar tilts his head, rubs circles into the bones of Lando's wrist with his thumb. "Course I do. Why wouldn't I?"

"Dunno," Lando says, a shade defensively. Those are definitely tears glistening in his eyes. "I thought, like. Because we weren't gunna be teammates anymore, you'd, like. You know?"

Oscar might not always get him, even after all this time, but he's well-versed in Lando-speak by now. "What?" he laughs, shocked. "You thought that'd be it? Nice knowing you, mate, and thanks for all the blowjobs?"

"Guess so," Lando says, wiping his nose with his sleeve like a toddler. Something in Oscar's chest clenches at the sight of it. Lando wearing a hoodie in the thick heat of the desert. He's not meeting Oscar's eyes. "'S what Daniel did."

Oscar can hear his heartbeat loud in his ears. "I'm not Daniel," he points out redundantly.

Lando peers up at him, lashes clumped together with tears. "Yeah?" he croaks, biting at his bottom lip.

"Yeah," Oscar echoes. "You bloody idiot. Do all Australians look the same to you, or something?"

Lando laughs, but it comes out shaky and wet. "Something like that."

Oscar twists his hand, twines their fingers together. "I'm not going anywhere," he promises. "Me going to - it doesn't mean anything. Not for us, okay?" He squeezes Lando's hand.

Lando's bottom lip is caught between his teeth. "You promise?" he asks, sounding absurdly vulnerable and young.

"I promise," Oscar says, and pulls Lando in for a kiss.

It's stupid, and risky, and senseless. Anybody could see them like this, twined together in a poorly-concealed corner. Zak could come bursting through the doors right this second. A journo might be lurking in the paddock after-hours.

Oscar doesn't care. All he wants right now is this: Lando's plush mouth against his own, teeth scraping against Oscar's bottom lip, fireworks sizzling in the night sky above them.

[beomgyucoded]

Basketball Player!Kai x Teacher’s Pet!Reader

Prompt: “Quick! I need you to kiss me!” “Wait what-“

Word Count: 2,987

Warnings: bullying sort of? Both the reader and Kai are misunderstood

Part 5 of the First Kiss Series

7:50 A.M.

That was the time you arrived at school every day, not a minute earlier, not a minute later. The ten minutes before classes began were your only moments of serenity. It was the only time you had to yourself before the other students flooded in and overwhelmed you with their presence and not so nice remarks towards you.

As you settled into your usual spot in the library, you pulled out your latest book, eager to lose yourself in its pages before the chaos of the day began. The soft rustling of turning pages was a comforting sound to your ears, a familiar escape from the world around you. 

Amidst the gentle rustle of book pages being turned, there were also the sounds of squeaky shoes, echoing chants, and a sharp whistle being blown. You weren't the only one here at this time, the basketball team would have early morning practice from 7 to 8 a.m. The athletes would dribble, sprint, and shoot hoops in the gym that was adjacent to the library where you sat and sometimes you'd abandon your book to watch them. 

The sound of basketballs hitting the gym floor was usually a steady thud in the background, but today, there was a new sound that caught your attention. Laughter. It was a rich, melodic sound that seemed out of place in the early morning hustle of the gym. Curiosity getting the better of you, you peeked over your book to see the source of this unfamiliar sound.

It was Kai, grinning widely as he high-fived one of his teammates after scoring a particularly impressive shot. His energy was infectious, and even from a distance, you couldn't help but smile at the sight. You've been going to school with Kai since elementary school, and throughout all those years, you had always admired him from afar. He was charismatic, talented, and undeniably good-looking. 

But he was also popular, while you were popular in a different way. Popular as in the popular kids made sure you heard their thoughts about you every day. They were probably the only reason others knew your name. But Kai, despite his status, was always nice to you. He never joined in when others teased you, and sometimes he would smile at you and make conversation in the hallways. They were small gestures, but they meant a lot to you.

Lost in your thoughts, the sound of the bell signaling that it was 8 o'clock brought you back to the present and your eyes widened. You hurriedly scrambled your book and speed walked through the school corridors with your head down, trying to reach your classroom before the first bell rang. Suddenly, you collided with someone, almost dropping your book in the process. Looking up, you found yourself staring into the deep brown eyes of Kai, who was walking with some of his teammates.

"Sorry," he mumbled, reaching out to steady you.

Your heart raced at his proximity, his warm touch sending shivers down your spine.

"It's okay," you managed to say, feeling your cheeks flush bright red.

As Kai's hand lingered on your arm, you could feel the weight of his gaze on you. His teammates exchanged knowing looks before one of them nudged Kai with a smirk, causing him to quickly remove his hand and clear his throat.

"You shouldn't touch her for so long Kai," one of them started,

"Some of her lameness might rub off on you."

Ignoring the taunts of his teammates, you brushed past them, not wanting to hear what else they had to say and quickly made your way to your first class.

"You know it's too bad she's such a loser, she's actually really pretty," another teammate said. 

"She's not just pretty, she's hot, have you seen her-"

"Can you guys shut up?" Kai cut them off. 

"You don't even know her, how could you call her a loser?" he asked them. 

"I mean, like, she's always reading books and stuff, and she-"

"That's because she likes to read," Kai defended you. 

"Having hobbies like that is nothing to be ashamed of."

As Kai's words trailed off, he glanced in the direction you hurried off in before continuing the walk to his locker.

You took your seat in class, blinking back tears. You've been getting picked on since freshman year where you rejected the advances of one of the boys who is now popular. The bell signaling the start of class pulled you out of your thoughts, and you quickly scribbled down some notes to look like you were paying attention. Their remarks always stung, and you never understood why they treated you like that. There's nothing wrong with saying no, and it's not like you were the only girl to reject that boy. All their comments were based on pure speculation, they didn't know you. And you were positive they didn’t want to either.

You dreaded lunchtime, it was where the whole school gathered in their cliques in the cafeteria, and you were always alone. It wasn't that you didn't have friends, you just didn't want anyone to know how much it hurt every time they laughed and said things that were far from true.

As you took your seat at your usual table, you glanced around the cafeteria. The familiar faces of the popular kids laughed and chatted, completely oblivious to anything else going on around them. You sighed, feeling a sense of loneliness that only grew as you thumbed at the pages of your book.

"Hey (Y/N)," one your friends greeted as she sat down next to you.

"Is it okay to sit with you? I know you like to be alone and all but it's been awhile since we hung out."

She was wrong. 

You didn't like to be alone, you just thought it was better this way. 

Your friends wouldn't get laughed at for being seen with you this way. 

"Of course, I'd love the company," you replied, forcing a smile. 

Your friend immediately brightened up, chattering away about her weekend plans and the latest gossip. As you listened, you found yourself slowly relaxing and enjoying her company. It was then that you realized how much you'd missed spending time with your friends, even if it was just for a little while.

The lunch period went by faster than usual, and before you knew it, the bell signaled the end of the break. As you two walked to class together, your friend playfully slapped your arm.

"Don't worry about them, okay? We're all gonna graduate in a few months and you're going to do such amazing things while they realize they peaked in high school," she said with a grin.

"I hope so," you sighed, trying to mask the doubt in your voice. 

"Hey, think of this way, you've got the beauty, brains and such a good heart with so much to offer the world. You're destined for greatness and they'll probably be stuck, struggling to find their purpose in life."

You smiled at your friend's words, grateful for her reassurance. As you reached your classroom, you glanced back and saw your friend waving goodbye with a big smile on her face.

"She's right, you know," a voice said from behind you. 

You turned around to see Kai standing there, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You really shouldn't listen to those people," he continued. 

"They're just jealous of you. You're brilliant, kind, and beautiful, you know that, right?"

"Aren't "those people" your friends?" You asked, somewhat surprised by his words.

Kai shook his head.

"Some of them are. But a lot of them are just... surface level friends," he said.

You felt your cheeks flush as you smiled weakly, trying to hide the temptation to believe him. 

"You don't have to pretend to believe me, but I hope you know that not everyone sees you the way they do," Kai said earnestly and walked into the classroom. 

As the day went on, Kai's words lingered in your mind. You found yourself stealing glances at him during classes and looking away just as quickly, not knowing that he was sneaking glances at you too. 

The next day, at the usual time, you were once again seated in your regular spot at the library. Instead of reading a book, you were engrossed in your sketchbook, putting the finishing touches on one of your drawings. The sound of basketballs hitting the gym floor distracted you from your work, and you glanced up to see Kai and his friends practicing for the upcoming game. As you turned your attention to them fully, you saw that they weren't practicing, just shooting around. One of his teammates said your name and you closed your eyes, bracing yourself for whatever he was going to say today. 

"Why did you get so defensive over (Y/N) yesterday?" he asked Kai.

You opened your eyes immediately and raised your eyebrows in confusion.  

"You got a thing for her or something?" he followed up, this time nudging Kai with a smirk.

Kai's cheeks turned slightly pink as he shrugged off his friend's teasing. 

"Nah, she's just a friend. We've known each other for a long time" he replied casually.

"Sure, just a friend," his teammate teased, raising an eyebrow.

"You don't want to be seen with someone like her anyways, you should be trying to hookup with one of the cheerleaders or something," he continued. 

Kai's jaw tensed at his teammate's words, and for a moment, he looked conflicted. 

"(Y/N) is hot though, if she just dressed better and wasn't such a teacher's pet I'd be all over her too," another teammate chimed in and they all laughed. 

Kai's fists clenched involuntarily and before he could say anything, their coach blew the whistle signaling the end of practice. 

The sound of the whistle was also your signal to leave, you put your sketchbook away but instead of getting up to leave, you sat there. You felt slightly embarrassed and just overall sad. You glanced out the window that let you see the gym and saw a small group of cheerleaders attempting to talk to Kai. His other teammates were standing and watching. 

You sat there for what felt like hours, watching the events unfold through the window. You couldn't help but feel a pang of envy towards those cheerleaders, wondering what it would be like if you were like them.  Tearing your gaze away from the window, you felt tears pool in your eyes but you wiped them away quickly. What were you even crying for? They sort of complimented you, didn’t they? You only dressed the way you did to avoid the attention, yet it seemed to have the opposite effect. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of rushing footsteps. It was Kai and he was making his way over to you, his expression one of frustration and determination. 

He spotted you sitting alone on the makeshift bay window and walked over quickly, sitting beside you with a sense of urgency.

“Quick, I need you to kiss me.”

You looked at him, your eyes wide with confusion.

"I’m sorry, what?"

Kai's expression softened, and he looked out the window seeing that his friends and the group of cheerleaders had spotted where he rushed off to, their faces contorted with surprise and curiosity.

Without waiting for your response, Kai leaned in and pressed his lips against yours in a brief, impulsive kiss. Your heart raced as you felt the softness of his lips against yours, the taste of mint lingering on him. As he pulled back, you stared at him in shock, trying to process what had just happened. Kai turned to look at you, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. 

All you could do was stare at him, trying to make sense of the situation. His kiss had left you feeling both confused and exhilarated, like you had just experienced something out of a movie.

"Kai, what was that?" you finally managed to ask, feeling your voice shake slightly.

He looked away briefly before meeting your gaze again. 

“They kept pestering me about dating or just hooking up with someone, and I’ve always wanted to kiss you. So I just…did.”

He trailed off, and you looked at him, still trying to process the situation.

“How did you know I was here?”

Kai's face flushed slightly, and he looked away before answering.

“You come here every day at the same time. I always see you through the window.” 

You sat there stunned, still trying to comprehend what just happened. 

“You’re not invisible you know, I’ve always seen you,” he admitted, the weight of his words felt like they were referring to more than just seeing you through the window.

You searched his eyes for any sign of insincerity, but all you found was a raw vulnerability you've never seen before. The tension between you two was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words and unanswered questions.

"Why?" you whispered, your voice barely louder than a breath and it being the only thing you could bring yourself to say.

Kai took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what he was about to say. 

“You probably don’t remember this, but in fifth grade there was this one time where our teacher had us grade each other’s spelling tests. She handed them out randomly and I remember being anxious because my handwriting isn’t the best and I assumed I didn’t do very well. Well when she handed them back, I saw that you graded mine. It was graded so cutely and your handwriting was like the opposite of mine that the contrast made me laugh. You left a little note on the bottom and it said “Good job Kai, you had nothing to be nervous about” with a cute little heart next to it. How you could tell I was nervous was beyond me, but I asked you and you said “you kept bouncing your leg while we were taking it and your handwriting looked messier than usual.” That’s when I decided I had a crush on you, you noticed little things, you were sweet and well- a pretty girl. You still are, you grew up beautiful.”

You were somehow even more stunned than before, the memory of fifth grade flooding back to you in a rush. You remembered well, he was the shy boy who always sat in the corner of the classroom during classes, his messy handwriting and nervous habits endearing to you even back then. As you sat there absorbing his words, Kai reached out tentatively to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your heart skipped a beat as his touch lingered on your skin, the warmth radiating from his fingertips. 

"Kai... I..." you began, your voice wavering between apprehension and desire. 

Before you could finish, Kai's eyes met yours, filled with a mix of longing and vulnerability. He leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek, and this time, when his lips touched yours, it wasn't brief or impulsive. Instead, it was slow, tender, and filled with years of unspoken feelings.

Your hands found their way to his face, gently cradling it as you returned the kiss, your thoughts forgotten in the warmth of his embrace. It was a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, yet it was over all too soon. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I know it was sudden and unexpected, and to me it was long overdue. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way.”

You stared into Kai's eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. The warmth of his hands still lingering on your face. You had been holding your breath, unsure of how to respond. 

"Kai, I... I do feel the same way," you whispered.

It was true, you’ve always been fond of the boy. Though you chose to suppress your feelings for fear of being rejected or judged. Seeing the vulnerable side of him today alongside his confession, the walls you had built began to crumble. 

His eyes widened in surprise, and you could see relief wash over him in an instant. 

He pulled back, gently cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs tracing the outline of your cheekbones.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his.

"Yes, I'm sure."

His smile was slow and tentative, revealing a hint of disbelief and joy.

"Then, can I...?" He hesitated, his voice barely above a murmur.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his once more. This time, there was no hesitation, no uncertainty. The kiss was a declaration of feelings long kept hidden, a promise of a future yet to be written. 

Kai gently pulled away, his eyes full of desire and tenderness, his fingers lightly grazing your cheek. 

“Let’s not rush into anything,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“I want to make sure this is what you truly want, and not just because of the moment.”

You understood his concern, and nodded, taking a deep breath. You needed to be sure of yourself, too.

“I understand,” you whispered, meeting his eyes. 

“Let’s take it slow, but I promise, I’m in this for the long haul.”

Kai smiled, a genuine and heartwarming smile that reached his eyes, making them sparkle. He stood up, holding out a hand for you. You took his hand, your fingers intertwining naturally with his, hands swaying back and forth as you walked out of the library together.

“Can I take you out?” he asked, hesitance still lingering in his voice.

“Like, out on a date?”

You smiled, the corners of your lips curling up in a grin. 

"I would love that." 

a/n: I'm sorry this took so long, I wasn't too sure where I was going with this honestly. But that’s the final part of my mini series! I had fun coming up with the prompts and then trying to bring them to life. I hope you enjoyed them ♡

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[thedivineflowers]

hi!!! Love you works they’re so silly and good😜but sad😔 anyway I hope you’re doing well! I wanted to ask for when the boys (idk how many you’ll take but I think if you need a limited amount go with the first years😭) but yea when the boys say something plain ass bitchy and mean to middleschool!reader, like how were magic-less useless kid (looking at you Ace😡) saying some shit about our family or babying us too much till it become insufferable or smth and then when we get rightfully upset and cry or get upset (leaning on crying for more drama, angst and guilt😘) they realize how bad they fucked up and apologize, I feel like we would be a little stubborn about the apology depended on who it is to😭 but yea my goofy ahh request take your time and you can switch up the characters it’s your writing I don’t care! Love you works<333

YEHAHAHAHAHAH I LOVE THIS IDEA SM AND I LIKE DONT REALLY HAVE A LIMIT UNLESS I COULDNT REALLY THINK OF SOMETHING SO EYEYEYEY

OKAY IMA ETART IM SOMEZCIYED

I ONLY DID THE FIRST YEARS BECAUSE IT WAS GONNA TAKE SOME TIME AND I DIDNT WANT TO KEEP YOU WAITING SO HERE 😆

Ace: he’d always tease you. And during the first few weeks when he was warming up to you he’d diss you by saying that you were nothing without magic. He even referred to you as the useless and magicless kid for some time. Even after months he still referred to you as that and one day you just bursted. “Why can’t you shut up about me being magicless?! I know I’m at a disadvantage but I’m tired of it! The jokes dead now why can’t you get it!? If I could I’d just make a portal by myself to go back to my world so I don’t have to listen to you all damn day but guess what?! Im just some useless and magicless kid!!” You shouted at tears ran down your face. You stormed away and he tried running after you but you quickly maneuvered away from him. Because of his pride he didn’t apologize for days and stayed quiet when around you. One day after he was given a reality check by Deuce he apologized because guilt was really eating away at him. You still avoided him for a bit just to make sure but your friendship came back together.

Deuce: he kinda has a temper (to me he does) and he’ll let it out sometimes making him call you shit like Ace. But because he is trying to be a good student (and a good friend) he’d be very quiet if he’d call you things but you always manage to him whisper it to himself. One day you two were alone in the classroom doing detention because you two got into a fight when a guy mocked you. “Hey, Deuce.” You called him with an empty tone. “Do you really wish that I had magic. That I had someone to look after me so you didn’t have to stick around me all the time?” You asked as you eyes were glued to the table in front of you. Barely managing to answer the first question on your math homework. “I see how you look at me when I mess something up because I lack magic. I just wanna know.” You said as there was a pressure on your throat. Like you wanted to throw up and let out a yell at the same time. His answer only made the pressure worse as your breathing became short. Did he really think that it’d been better if the magic mirror didn’t pick you? That you’d only stay as the schools janitor? You quickly walked out leaving everything behind to go to the teachers bathroom that you had access to. Everyone thought the same thing about you so why were you throwing up in the sink and crying your eyes out? Because you thought of him as different? No. Deuce came to your dorm later that evening with your completed math homework and backpack. He sighed before apologizing about what he said earlier and the things he’s called you. After some talking your friendship was alright but with rockiness

Jack: At first because you were obviously magicless he’d be very overbearing to you when it comes to things like flying your broom three feet off the ground. He’d chastise you when you used simple spells by waking you up the morning and running with him. He’s trying to protect you but it seems that he underestimates what you know you can and can’t do. You’d get frustrated and try to express that you didn’t need to be babied but the words would just stay stuck in your throat because you knew that he was just trying to look after you. “I can do this Jack! You need to stop worrying about me with small things like having the damn ladle stir itself in the pot! I’m not gonna get hurt with it and I know you’re looking after me but you’re making me uneasy like I could die from just touching a book about small spells! You’ve seen me fly a broom around and be perfectly fine in Mr. Crewels class so what is it that makes you think that I need you breathing down my neck all the time?! Is it because I’m magicless and from another world? Is it because I’m still a kid?” You bubbles over and spewed at him one day while you were making yourself dinner. Jack stood there as he awkwardly looked to the side trying to find an excuse. “I-“ “Im not as fragile as you think. If I was I would’ve been dead.” He’d been contemplating how much magic you could handle and he knows you know that he’s watching over you but he doesn’t know that it was getting overwhelming for you. He avoided you for a bit before apologizing and admitting that he had protected you because he feared you were weak because you were still a kid. You nodded in understanding and forgave him.

Epel: he had a small ego boost because he heard that you were magicless and a child who still knew nothing. He’d also heard Vil chatting away about you and saying mean things even when you were around. So he thought that you wouldn’t mind if he did too. You tried getting along with him at one point but he just pushed you away. “Is there something wrong with me that makes you stay away from me? I know that Im nothing like you but I’m trying to make an effort to get along with you!” You cornered him one day in the hall with small tears about to well over. He had almost nothing to say but a small peep “Does me being magicless and from another world disgust you? If it does then just say it already so I can leave you the hell alone and stop wasting my time trying to make an effort!” You demanded “I- no, not at all! I just…” He cleared his throat away of his country accent. “I thought that a kid like you couldn’t go through so many things and not have anything to hold onto yourself, ‘thought it was silly and that everyone and you were bluffin’ so I pushed you away because I thought you were way over yourself before I even got the chance to talk you properly…” he trailed off as you wiped your eyes and looked at him in understanding. Over time you both tried holding conversations to get to know each other and get warmed up so the same mistake doesn’t happen again. (It is hot in my damn room help 😭)

(The ones from diasomnia don’t really know you here)

Sebek 😈: He’d always talk about it was ‘impossible for a child with nothing to their name’ to even do anything in a world where they didn’t belong when he wasn’t stuffing his mouth with praises for Malleus. How ‘Their parents clearly made a mistake in raising them’ because you couldn’t cast a spell in class without needing help or looking at the instructions again. He’d even insult you in front of Malleus when you do someone like walk past their table “That child has no grace when they walk! Even in the presence of my lord himself! Utterly disgusting!” He’d say and the other three wouldn’t really respond because they hardly know you. One day Mr. Crewel had you two paired in a project so you two went to a secluded place to start (I mean he walked away while you followed after him.). “For the hundredth time that species will poison you! Can’t you understand?! Sevens I don’t know how you’re alive when you can’t even memorize stuff like this.” He muttered as he pinched the space between his eyes. You then slammed your fists in the table with tears of Frustration boiling up. “Can’t you understand that I can’t get a grasp of things here?! I’m only (age) and I’m in the (grade) grade! No sebek I cant understand anything because I’m not from here! I’m not supposed to be here making spells or talking to you because I’m supposed to be in a world where I get shut out like you have done to me because of shit like this! I don’t have an identity but only my face as proof of my existence! I don’t care about this project anymore you can blame me all you want I’m leaving.” You concluded before shoving papers in your bag and hastily walking away before he could even speak. After he had complained of what you said to him to Lilia he suggested that he look at it from your view and apologize. So he did. Which earned him nothing more than a smack on the face and a door to his nose. It’s up to you if you forgive him.

[im-this-kind-of-girl]

My complete and unhinged Metatron analysis

Hello, I have seen that many people are theorizing about Metatron, so I'm here presenting an analysis of who Metatron is, rather his biblical role and how he may be more connected to the Aziraphale and Crowley than we might believe.

-Also, English is not my first language, so please be patient with me-

ANALYSIS OF METATRON AS A FIGURE WITHIN CHRISTIANITY:

Metatron, has always been a controversial figure in Christianity, full of dualisms.

Let's start with its etymologically. The term Metatron has two completely different translations: one comes from the Greek metradromos meaning "he who pursues with vengeance"; or it is also possible that its origin is from the term meta ton thronon which means "closer to the throne". There are many doubts about his true origin, since it is mentioned in non-canonical versions of the Bible, during Genesis*. However, in the most current and official versions of the Bible, it never appears.

While there is nothing official, the most accepted version is that he is actually the prophet Enoch, Noah's grandfather. Enoch -who used to have his own book of the Bible in earlier versions- was a prophet who had the God-given gift of visiting Heaven through different visions. In his 1st vision, Enoch has the mission to intercede with God on behalf of the fallen angels. In another vision, he sees the Cherubim in Heaven, whom he describes as beings of fire. Later, he is taken by the archangel Michael to the highest heaven. Enoch also travels in his visions or dreams to the tree of knowledge. He is supposed to have lived 365 years and, at the end of his visions, Enoch is chosen by God to become the archangel Metatron, a powerful archangel who is also called the little Yahweh.

There is another explanation for his origin: he is the first being of creation, seated at the left hand of the father, which in tradition is associated with Satan.

The Zohar also describes Metatron as "the king of angels" who reigns over the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.

When Enoch was on Earth, he devoted himself to writing a book containing the secrets of wisdom until he was taken to Heaven to become an angel. God allowed Enoch to continue this same ministry in Heaven** .

FUN FACTS:

Metatron was the one who led the Israelites to the Promised Land (Moses).

Metatron is the patron angel of children.

Metatron transmits God's daily orders to the angels Gabriel and Raphael.

Not being an angel from his origin, Metatron is associated with the angels in charge of Death, he supervises them when they help the souls to make their transition from the physical to the spiritual plane.

He is canonically the most powerful archangel in the entire celestial realm, second only to God. His role is similar to Lucifer's original rol, the right hand of God.

The archangel Metatron is in charge of directing the ascension and activation of the human being's light body. Having been human, he knows the path of enlightenment. He represents the potential for transformation and purification of the soul when it sets out to transcend matter to unite with the pure spirit of the Divine. Metatron is in charge of guiding the souls towards the light, towards purity (insert the fact that he asks for coffee with almonds, which in Christianity is related to purification).

METATRON IN THE LORE OF GOOD OMENS

It is worth mentioning that in the original Good Omens book, Metatron is the only angel that appears besides Aziraphale. While other angels are mentioned, Metatron is the only one who appears, firstly when Zira wants to talk to God, and secondly when Beelzebub and Metatron make presence at the Tadfield airbase to try to convince Adam to restart the end of the world (it is not Gabriel who appears in the book).

And, considering that the 3rd season is based on the sequel to the book that never came out, it makes sense that Metatron would have had a bigger role because he was always a present character.

HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH CROWLEY AND ZIRA:

So, from all this information, I would like to point out that Metatron not only used to be human and knows the "true path of purification," but he is also in charge of caring the tree of knowledge.

You know, that tree?

Aziraphale and Crowley represent the two things that oppose his very existence: an angel that is becoming more and more human with each passing day and the Serpent of Temptation that keeps doubting and questioning the edges and the difference between good and evil. These two not only were they not punished, but together they are two extremely powerful entities, perhaps as powerful as he is.

They are a threat… but only together.

Metatron can see in Aziraphale the very opposite of what he represents, someone who needs to return to the path of divinity:

Aziraphale, the supposed guardian of Eden, who started out as an angel, who gradually transformed into someone with more and more human habits, falling into almost all the deadly sins, in love with the Serpent who tempted humans to eat from the forbidden fruit of the tree of knowledge. Someone who loves forbidden books and bibles, with a hedonistic and condescending personality who managed to deceive his brother angels for millennia to protect humanity and his earthly life***.

It would also explain his disdain towards Crowley, why he looked at him with that face: Metatron is the protector of the tree that Crowley managed to corrupt.

To all this we can add that Metatron/Enoch renounced his humanity to become something superior, while Crowley and Aziraphale consider humanity to be something superior worth defending and loving. They see in humans what Enoch could not see behind his judgment of false celestial purity. They are two supernatural entities who managed to love humanity more than he, a human, ever could.

These parallels are not only born out of my obsession, no. The fact that Metatron has separated them has a much more possible and deep significance.

Narratively, this can only mean one thing: Metatron is the villain, the perfect antagonist to Aziracrow.

CLARIFICATIONS *Genesis is where the Adam and Eve story is found, the Garden of Eden, the moment that changes Zira and Crowley forever…. **That "book that contained the secrets of wisdom"… is it the book of life? Is Metatron the only one who has access to it? ***I would like to clarify, that for me the real main character of Good Omens is Aziraphale, that's why I find more comparisons with him, followed by Crowley as co-protagonist, but I will continue this theory another day.

[p-oisn]

let's get positive ! (⁠ʃ⁠ƪ⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠）

(the content below the cut contains mentions of sensitive topics such as implied su*cide & sh so pls scroll if you're uncomfortable w those !)

this is a long rant about life basically .. 💩💩

i was going to make a post like this sometime later anyways bc i felt .. like a nice person ... but i made it a bit earlier than i expected bc i saw a post from oomf that really made me think .. so here u go

this comes from my own PERSONAL experiences and this is js my point of view yk !!! im no expert on any topic HSHSJ this is js the way i cope plz dont come for me in my asks ... i am aware that it isn't the same for everyone but , i hope this message can be helpful to some extent </3

if you feel like like life is leading nowhere n you feel like giving up I PROMISE it will get better bc i felt the same for two whole years n i will say that i have improved a LOT since . yes , it took me longer than i expected but i didn't give up and you shouldn't either ! it was hard n there were times i felt like i wasn't making any progress / improvement but in the end , it still got better

be kinder (to yourself, first) ☆

i think the first step to loving yourself is to forgive yourself .. its okay to try over n over again , you're still human n i think ppl tend to forget that often bc they're so tough on theirselves . let's not forget that your body is actively trying it's best to keep u alive , your WBCs for example ! (let's appreciate these little guys for trying their best 🎉🎉) your body too , deserves to be loved back , for fighting so hard just for YOU! so pls don't hurt yourself in any way </3

appreciate yourself for achieving even the smallest of tasks because even if it wasn't something big , YOU DID IT ANYWAYS ! every small achievement of yours deserves to be appreciated . even if it's momentary happiness , appreciate yourself while it lasts . i understand that sometimes even small things could be such a hassle but you can always reward yourself later ! i personally like to buy donuts everytime i finish something (this could come in handy when you're really craving something if you get what im saying ..)

It's okay if you're going at a slower pace than other people , what matters in the end is that you get it done ! everyone is not the same so it's unfair to put yourself down for such things .. also applies to comparing yourself to someone because in the end you'll still be you .. even if you don't like it .. that makes you unique ofcourse , there's only one of you in this world so embrace yourself for that !! you're one of a kind (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

oh, but, life's the same, it's boring ... ☆

yes , a lot of days could end up being the exact same because like , there are 365 days in a year so you can except most of them to be similar .. but as a new year starts , ofc many things change without you even noticing it , you grow older ofcourse , and you could be starting a new year in school , you meet new people and so on ! if you compare your life from a year ago or even a few months ago to now , you'll surely notice a few differences atleast so .. life is not reaaaaally the same right .... everyday is a new experience ! literally anything and i mean anything could happen the next day , you could even win the lottery who knows 🤫

when i felt like everyday was the same , i tried changing my patterns .. (my current favourite thing to do is go on a walk ! sometimes i take my dog w me , it's super fun) i would do small things that i dont usually do like sketch ! or i attempt cooking something new .. but obviously there were a LOT of days where i did nothing , sometimes even weeks , and that's okay ! we all deserve days where we do nothing ESPECIALLY if you're someone who is working or js in school / college everyday .. you deserve that break

i think a big factor is being unproductive ? don't get me wrong , i still am my same unproductive self at times unfortunately , n sometimes they do get so bad that they lead to a terrible burnout .. n i went through a rly bad burnout not long ago n trust me you do not want to get this far :( how do i deal with this ? (let's take studying as an example here) well i always start off with small portions , even if it's just a page or two . n then i slowly keep increasing the amount of pages i read .. n yes ofc , i understand how brutal burnouts can get sometimes n that's why it's important to not overwhelm yourself by attempting to finish a big portion of your studies in one go .. just take it easy , let the information marinate in your head for a bit before you move on to the next topic .. so basically what im trying to say here is don't overwhelm yourself with big tasks especially when you're already burntout

friends .. they're great ☆

the thing that honestly improved my life by a mile is getting good friends .. I've had my fair share of bad friend groups so trust me when I say this , it's better to be alone than with people who drain you mentally because . you deserve someone who treats you the way you actually want to be treated .

"but it's hard to make friends" i completely get this because i am a very shy person myself </3 but i think you could start by trying to make friends online ! its easy to find someone with similar interests on the internet .. so when you feel down atleast you know that there's someone on the other side of the world who cares for you ..

but this doesn't change the fact that solitude is AMAZING too (tbh i could go on for a really long time on how i love being by myself but this is already getting super lengthy ...) you can be your own friend too ! (okay see now this seems insane but if it makes you happy WHO CARES AMIRITE) i personally enjoy my own company like omg .. she can get a good laugh out of me sometimes ... you can do whatever you want when you're alone ! you can dance to your favourite playlist or experiment with a bunch of stuff ! if you get bored you can watch your favourite movie or consume your favourite piece of media that no one gets like you 🤫 so , as much as making friends sounds great , let's appreciate solitude too !!

ah, life can be beautiful sometimes? ☆

one of the biggest reasons i go on walks almost regularly is to remind myself how beautiful the world can be sometimes .. (atp half of this is me convincing you all to go on walks) i live in a beautiful neighbourhood n there are a lot of different flowers and fruits that grow here and that makes me really happy . going on early morning walks especially is soo fun , the world is so quiet then and you can even watch the sunrise 🥹

another thing is buying myself things i like ... especially clothes ... if you think you would look good in something then js go ahead and buy it ! don't mind what other people think because like ... YOU are wearing it and if people around you have a problem with that then i think they should close their damn eyes and not look at you if it bothers them that much 🤦 you deserve to feel confident and comfortable in your own skin , you deserve to dress the way you want to ! so if you feel like dressing a particular way would make you feel better .. GO FOR IT !!! this applies to other things you like, maybe accessories, merch or stationary that look cute .. it's okay even if people judge you for your style because in the end they're the ones who are boring and miserable because they spend soo much time hating on others 😒

life is soo much more fun when you take care of yourself trust me ... you deserve to be taken care of !! so spoil yourself once in a while i promise it's okay as long as it makes you happy <3

to sum it all up .. yes , good times don't last forever but so don't bad times , and you and i both can get through a bad day because life is still going on (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ bad times too , will pass . so please believe in yourself and hold on !! i love you

again, this is all how*I* like to cheer myself up so pls don't take anything here in a bad way 😖 all of this was made with good intentions and im so sorry if i still ended up hurting anyone in any way ..

[otherone12]

We Were Meant To Be, Supposed To Be

( Avril reference lol)

Frank Iero × Reader

-> Masterlist

A/N: Hey!! I took too long to write this, because I wasn't at home, so couldn't finish it. Also, i've changed the whole plot of this fic like three times, and I still thinking that's not good as I wanted. Anyways, i hope you enjoy :D

A/N 2: You guys want a Vampire x Reader fic? And with wich member?

Summary - You and Frank dated for a while before he joined MCR, but when you two decided to go separate ways, the different worlds didn’t work well together and you broke up. Years later, your lives collide again, but this time you’re not that young anymore. (This supposed to be a DD era Frank, but if you wanted to change it, be your guest).

- Word Count: 1.530

- Warnings: none

- Ps: I'll not use y/n…

- Ps2: I'm brazilian, so english is not my first language ... sorry if i wrote something wrong.

___________________________________________

1st person POV

  I was walking down streets on my way to my work, like I do every single day. The large amount of people on the street got me a bit nervous, but I learned to pretend that they didn't exist. 

    The huge building where I work seems small when I enter through the automatic door and go to my even smaller office. I took my earphones and turned the radio on in my city’s broadcasting station. “.... and we're gonna rock this town, like we always do.” The voice that I heard sounded a bit familiar, but I couldn't tell who it was, 'cause of the noise from poor radio contact.   

    I tried harder to listen to what he’ll say, but he had already  finished the interview and the announcer said “Guys, that was Frank Iero telling us what we can expect from the My Chemical Romance concert next week. Thank you, Frank!”

    I got shocked. Why wasn't I able to recognize Frank's voice? It's been that long?

   Frank and I met at high school in our freshman year. We became best friends in about three months. Earlier than we expected, we were hanging out and holding hands. He was the best part of my highschool, probably because I was the most introverted person in the world, he is the opposite. Frank encouraged me to go to parties with him, to be less insecure, to be myself… I owe him all the chances I haven't let go since.

So, like all good things, we were over. He is a famous guitarist, touring through the whole world with his band, and I'm here. I went to college and became exactly what I wanted since I was a kid. 

    We were immature and broke up at the first trouble we had, we’ve been together for six years, and knew each other enough to know that we couldn’t handle a long distance relationship. Without any fight or discussion, we decided that was the end, and just didn’t talked anymore to not turn things harder than they almost were.

Moving on took me a few years, but no one of the people that I dated after Frank made me feel the way he did. Maybe we’re some kind of "meant to be'', and we threw our chance away, giving up that easy.

    The idea of Frank being here gave me the sensation of butterflies in my stomach, should i talk to him? No. I mean, I would like to see him, ask him if he thinks of me like I think of him. Maybe he's still trying to forget about us but incapable to do it, just like me. 

    I gave a brief look to the clock on the wall and noticed that I spent an hour just thinking of Frank, remembering our best moments. And just when I thought I reached the bottom, I felt a tear dripping down my face. 

    With my sleeve, I wiped that single tear in my cheek and keeped working. 

    The rest of the day was gray, the color of the clouds coincidently matched with my feelings. At home, I dropped myself in my bed and turned the tv on, with a desperate yearn to keep my mind out of my old memories. In a few minutes I fell asleep. 

*** time skip ***

  Next day, I decided that I would enjoy myself in some cool place. So at 9pm I put on my best clothes and went to my favorite bar. The place still the same since the last time i went there

   The low lights inside the bar almost made me stumble but I held on to the door before falling.

Like always, the place was crowded and the mix of people talking and the small band who were playing reminded me why I definitely prefer to stay at home instead of going out. Don’t get me wrong, the band was good, I only hate this amount of noise. 

    I took a seat by the side of a group of four men, but it was too dark to see their faces. I avoided looking at any of them for a long time, so it wouldn't look like I was flirting or something.

    - Hey! It's been a long time since the last time you’ve been here. - I used to come here so often that I became friends with the bartender - How’s it going?

   - Great i think, just a bit down this week. - I tell him, with a heavy sight - But I'm here to relax, so, gimme the same as always.

   - Right away, dear! 

   The bartender called my name after some minutes to give me my drink, and I felt the back of my neck burn, like I was being watched. Slowly, I turned around and the four guys were looking at me. My eyes, now accustomed with the dim place, could recognize their faces. I forgot how to breathe when I realized who they were.  

  - Holy shit! I thought I heard your voice, but then I thought that I was getting insane - The man closer to me said, and a silly smile appeared on my face. - You remember me, right, darling?

    - How could I forget you, Frank? - I took a sip of my drink, still smiling. - And, believe me, I tried so fucking hard to.

    - So do I… 

    He took a deep breath and his gaze showed that he missed me as much as I missed him. 

    - When he knew that we’ll be doing some concerts here, he started to talk about you and didn’t stop - Ray said, giggling, while Frank gave him a deathly look. - Well, good to see you again, by the way!

    - Same, guys! - I looked at all of them and nodded, drinking again. - Eight years is too long, but at the same time it seems like it was just a week ago. 

    - Ain’t that the truth? Damn! - Frank didn’t stop to look at me as of the beginning of the conversation. If he keeps doing this, I'll end up kissing him. - You’re pretty as always. ya know?

    My world just tumbled down with his sentence. He used to say this daily to me, in the same way. I gasped and, just like a movie, I saw him, a sixteen boy sitting by my side at the school’s refectory saying this to me for the first time. 

    Ray, Gerard and Mikey walked away to the other side of the bar and Frank stood up when I didn’t respond. Unable to say anything, I just looked at his hazel eyes and felt him getting closer. The feeling of panic washed my body with the sensation of his lips on mine. His hands runned through my body and his tongue entwined in mine. 

    All this eight fucking years trying to get over him, and he made all of this be in vain. I missed his touch more than I could even imagine. 

    I lost my fingers in his hair and when we both were breathless, we pulled up and just looked at each other.

    - Shit, how I missed you! - Frank said, holding my waist. - Wanna take a walk outside?

    - Sure. 

    We walked at the door, letting all the noise behind. The cold air of the night reached my face and I shivered, my mind was so confused that I barely noticed that Frank was holding my hand. 

    - So… I don't even know how to start to say how much I regret leaving you.   

    He was looking down, and I've never heard him so serious before.

    - You didn’t leave me. It was consensual. 

    - Yeah, but.. but I blame myself every day for not insisting on continuing with you. - He whined with an evident remorse in his voice. The regretful tone of his sigh was painful for me to hear.

    - Wasn’t your fault, Frank. We were both immature. - I let go of his hand and put my arm around his neck, in an attempt to comfort him. I wish someone had told me the same thing I said to Frank. After he’s gone I felt as guilty as him, and it lasted all these years. - Altrought we can try again, ‘cause we made it clear to each other that we still have mutual feelings.

    - You’re right, but how is this gonna work? - We stopped walking and Frank looked at me. His confused gaze turned sad and worried as the next words left his mouth.  - You have your life here, and my music is my life so… 

   - Maybe we can try that long distance thing… - A little unsure of what he would think of the idea, I tried to accept the only possible option for our situation. - Seeing each other when you were not on a tour, spending holidays together, calling and texting each other every day...

    - Sounds like an idea to me.

    He smiled and pulled me closer to a kiss, this time i wasn’t worried about all that shit. I let the moment ride me and a hopeful sensation warmed my body even more than Frank’s hands on my face and hips. I felt on fire when the kiss turned deeper. 

    - Are you sure that you wanna try to do this? - I broke the kiss for an instant. 

    - I’m on there, baby! 

___________________________________________

~So... that's it. lemme know if you enjoyed ;)

[dailydegurechaff]

I wanted to know how do you interpret Tanya's gender. After reading chapter 58 of the manga i got the impression that she is definitely trans coded, but maybe thats just me

Very good question.

To be honest, when I think too hard about Tanya’s gender (and sexuality, for that matter) it gives me brain worms. Fun brain worms, but brain worms nonetheless. I can’t explain it. Everything she’s got going on is complicated as shit there’s way too much to think about.

Like, she was a man, but now she's a girl. But at some points she says she still sees herself as a man internally so is this MtFtM? How does that work. And if she accepts she's a woman now, is that just MtF or do we add more letters. More importantly: Was Being X being Transphobic or being the Greatest Trans Ally of All Time with the free divinely issued sex change.

Ok ok, jokes aside. Confession: I actually do not keep up with the manga, so I had to go find the chapter and read it first. Having read it now though, I see what you mean.

The conversation she has with the Salaryman/herself in that chapter really does read as essentially saying “I’ve accepted who I am now.” It’s a far cry from a much earlier part of the manga I remember where she has a breakdown about being a man/people seeing her as a girl.

A friend of mine was actually showing me stuff from more recent chapters of the manga (don’t know which chapter tragically, but I know it’s not currently translated to English) and from what I gathered of it, Being X was showing Tanya a dream of being back in her past life and in response she basically demanded to go back to being Tanya immediately. It is definitely not just you, I 100% see the trans-coding you’re talking about.

As for my personal interpretation of her gender, I touched very briefly on it once before, but I honestly think she wouldn’t want to label herself as anything. At first, this is out of hesitance and not wanting to acknowledge that anything might be ““wrong”” or ““different”” about her. Later on it turns into character growth, more along the lines of, “I don’t need the label to define me, I just am what I am/like what I like. I don’t care about it any more than that.” Yes this is 100% projection on my part. No, I won’t apologize for it lmao.

Of course, that's entirely my own headcanon. I definitely am not saying it’s the only way to interpret her, it’s just my personal thoughts. Especially since my opinion is subject to change on a dime depending on what I’m reading/working on myself. The Tanya gender is, in fact, transient, shifting like water.

Like. A transfem Tanya fic that focuses on her adapting to life in her new world and coming to discover she doesn’t actually hate her new body? I’d totally read that. I’ve seen a few fics that include that as a part of the narrative and those scenes of acceptance were among my favorite parts.

I get the feeling this is the route that the manga is going as well. It’s a bit of a shame that we don't have those aforementioned scenes in the light novel (or at least, I don't remember them), but I don’t think that Carlo Zen really intended that to be the focus/narrative in the first place. And honestly, I also think that’s a good thing because it allows for so much more room for interpretation and headcanon around Tanya’s character.

Anyway, the other direction is also compelling to me. A transmasc Tanya fic where, after feeling uncomfortable and hating how feminine he looks for years and years, he finally goes ‘Fuck this, I’m gonna go back to being a man’? I would read the fuck out of that too.

Could also be paired with him finally choosing to defect, where they think about it like, ‘Well there’s nothing to hold me back now, right? I don’t have to maintain appearances anymore. Also, since I’m defecting this would be a great way to hide myself. They’d all be looking for the wrong person. Two birds with one stone, how efficient.’ …Now we’re getting to fic ideas I won’t ever get to so it’s time to move on I think.

Semi-related to the Trans Tanya Concept, this actually brings me to a bit of a lore/headcanon/idea/question I want to present to the public for opinions. In Norden, during the inciting battle of the war, Tanya uses magic to “dope up” so she could enhance her strength and reaction time and kill pain. I took this to mean she used a formula to synthesize the narcotics/adrenaline hormone/whatever else directly into herself, right?

Can you see where I’m going with this? As long as you know which hormones to make, how they’re made up, and what quantities you need… Well, don’t you think magic HRT is completely possible? Of course, as I'm not sure it makes sense for Salaryman to have known the detailed specifics about it from the modern world, it would require a lot of in-universe research/science advancement for someone to actually do that, but theoretically...

The magic system in this universe has so much potential to be explored, I’m fascinated by what you can theoretically do with it. Although, this is long and off-topic already I think this should be the end, lol.

I think I talked too much? I’m sorry, you were probably not expecting such an answer. I told you, Tanya gives me brain worms (mental illness).

I guess the TL;DR is this: that kid definitely ain’t cishet.