#gold rush headers

[editslor]

folklore eras tour headers

[thataintmymerlot]

gold rush // my tears ricochet

taylor swift

in case you save it, please like or reblog✩°｡⋆⸜

[labyrinthaze]

— My mind turns your life into f o l k l o r e

[vintageteaz]

taylor swift headers

like or reblog if you save

[colorspoem]

⟣ᩨ ｡✱ ᥬ♥︎ 🍝𓋼 𝗵ᦕᩨ𝕝𝕝𝗈ᩚ̼ ⟬✾︴▓⃞👘𓆇｡䕽ଽ ◊◞ ᘚ𝕖ືω͡ ρ✼᥍̼𝘁 ￣￣🧀❔// 𝕷𝕚𝐤ᩚ𝗲 ★ 𝖗̆𝐞𝗯𝗹𝗼̼ᩧ❡ ȣ ☨˚ꔛ彡🦔ͼ𝗼𝗹𝗈ຼ𝖗ຣᩚ..𝕡ܶ𝐨𝗲𑄚 ⚋⚋§፨⌘ ꒦ ༒ 🀄

[lizzy-bennet]

This new url??? Excuse me??? Absolutely iconique

nym 💕 thank you!! i literally just came on to make an announcement post and tag you in it to let you know but you beat me to it asdfjks

this oscar reaction pic technically has no relevancy to the url change topic here BUT it is one of my absolute favorites and you’re one of my absolute favorites, so i am bestowing it upon you:

[flemingsfreckles]

Be a Good Teammate

Jessie Fleming x USWNT!Reader

Words: 3.4k

Preview: After Jessie misses her penalty in the Gold Cup semi final, she’s found practicing kicks by her old friend and college teammate.

Warnings: some cursing, a little angst, but nothing else too crazy.

A/N: I haven’t written anything in maybe 4-5 years. Recently fallen back into reading and then watching the Canada/US game sparked some inspiration and here we are writing again.

You could hear her before you saw her. You had come out of the dressing room well after the rest of your teammates. They hardly showered just throwing on fresh clothes in a rush to begin their celebration for moving on to the finals of the Gold Cup. The stadium had fallen silent with the exception of a faint noise coming from the far end of the tunnel toward the pitch.

It was the repetitive sound of a ball being kicked followed shortly by the swish of the net. One after the next, boot on ball, swish of the net, boot on ball swish of the net. Working like a clock, a perfect machine, that was until the sound of the net was replaced by the ringing of the crossbar and the frustration of the kicker.

“Stupid fucking penalty” a frustrated voice rang out. The sound of the voice halted your steps, you knew that voice. Jessie. You quickly recognize the voice as your former best friend and UCLA teammate. Once you hear her, you quickly realized what was happening.

You’d seen her do this when you played together, anything from missed headers, missed passes, missed shots, and now with missed penalties. Jessie was known for being a hard worker, her focus and determination was admirable by her teammates and led her to earning the right to wear the captain's armband. She pushed herself to be better and while it was that mentality that turned her into one of Canada’s best, it also came with a whole other side.

She was hard on herself, more so than anyone else, and she took it to extremes. You had watched in college as she would spend hours watching film of her mistakes, tearing her performances apart, nitpicking every step she took. Criticizing every mistake to the point of obsession. One bad touch or one missed scoring opportunity would cloud her brain, unable to focus on anything else until she could fix that mistake, that mistake was all that would matter to Jessie.

“Be a good teammate to yourself Jessie.” Those were the words you told her constantly in college when you’d find her overworking herself. Running extra laps after an already grueling practice. Taking extra shots after a game, refusing to stop the repetitions until they were in her eyes, perfect. “Treat yourself how you treat all your other teammates, you support us, you provide positive corrections, you're kind. Talk to yourself the same way you talk with me or anyone else on this team, be a good teammate to yourself.”

And that’s how you knew exactly what Jessie was doing out on that field. She was retaking her penalty from earlier in the game, the one she had kicked into the arms of your team’s goalkeeper, letting you and your teammates erupt in celebration behind her as she walked with her head down to her team’s bench.

Now you are stuck with your brain telling you to let her be, she’s not going to want to see you, especially on a night like tonight. Just go celebrate with your teammates, you thought.

You and Jessie had been close in college, so close most of your teammates were convinced you two were secretly dating. And to be fair to them, you wish you’d made a move on Jessie but you didn’t. Too worried about losing your friend and still trying to figure out yourself in the process. Now your college days were years behind you and you both moved away after graduation to play professionally, her with Chelsea and now in Portland and you with Bayren Munich and more recently with Seattle.

Your communication with your former best friend had rapidly declined over the years, you both got caught up in your new lives, new clubs, and Jessie had gotten a girlfriend. It wasn’t public information at the time but you were close enough that she shared the news, gushing about the girl over one of your nightly phone call. You knew deep down that girl is what pushed you away. Even though you knew it was never going to work out between you and Jessie, it didn’t make hearing about her new girl any less painful.

So you pulled back, with going from long facetime calls, to short catch ups, to texts. It seemed mutual as Jessie followed suit reaching out less frequently. She figured you were busy and had forgotten about her, seeing you make new friends in your new teams. These days you were lucky if you saw a “nice game” “congrats on the win” or even “happy birthday” come across your phone from the Canadian.

No bad blood stood between you two that she was aware of, except for maybe right now as you stood wearing the crest of the team that had just ended her tournament hopes.

While your brain was telling you to head for the parking lot and leave, forgetting you heard her taking the shots, your heart refused to let your feet move in any direction but toward the pitch. As you turned the corner she came into view. The bright white 17 with FLEMING printed neatly across the back of her red jersey became visible as you watched her set up her next round of shots.

Now you were frozen again, standing just inside the edge of the pitch, only your eyes moving, watching as she placed a ball, moved backward, took a deep breath and took the shot. It sailed into the upper left of the net. You watched as Jessie once again stepped back to ready herself, having already placed the next ball while you were watching her first one go in the net. Again she took a breath and fired into the net. She continued just as you had heard her before, booting the ball into the net. Over and over and over.

The stadium that had previously been filled with fans shouting, coaches calling out, music, liveliness was now eerily silent, just the sound of Jessie methodical work taking place. You weren’t even sure how long you had been standing there watching her, you’d maybe seen her take 10 or 12 shots, all screaming into the back of the net. The systematic movement and sound had lulled you into zoning out, only snapped back into reality when you realized the noise had stopped.

Jessie was moving toward the goal, collecting all the balls she had kicked, only now you could hear her mumbling to herself. Unable to make out what she was saying, you watched as she continued moving all the balls back to start her drill once again. She had turned around, her face more visible to you, eyes still down looking at the balls she was kicking. You could see her cheeks were still bright red and her skin was shiny with sweat, or maybe it was rain. Her mumbling had turned into her regular voice, allowing you to make out every couple of words.

“idiot…if I just made it… don’t deserve this…” You watched her rip the captain's armband from her bicep, throwing it aside.

You felt your chest grow tight, seeing and hearing Jessie so angry at herself was painful. She was the kindest soul, she had been your first friend at school and one of the only ones who stuck around through all 4 years. the only thing she didn’t deserve is to feel this way about her performance.

Maybe i should leave, you thought, let her work through this, she’ll be okay with some time, how much can you really help at this point, it’s over, there’s no point in making her more upset and,

“FUCK” Jessie’s voice intrudes into your thoughts as she punts the last ball with such anger that instead of landing just outside the box like the rest, she sends it sailing, landing only a couple of feet from you. You look at the ball rolling toward your feet, being slowed greatly by the wet grass.

“Sorry,” Jessie hollers with a wave and a different, more polite tone in her voice. She begins jogging over to you, “I didn’t realize they were coming to do pitch maintenance already, I’ll pack up and go-“ she starts to ramble as you realize she hasn’t noticed that it’s you who is standing in front of her.

You move your eyes down at the grass, kicking some up unsure of what to do now while you wait for her to reach you and realize you’re in fact not the maintenance crew.

“What are you doing here?” Her accusatory tone returns and you look up to meet her eyes. Just as you’d seen from across the field her cheeks remained bright red, a layer of sweat making her whole face shine. Her lips are slightly parted and her breathing is quick. Her brown eyes that you used to stare at everyday are now puffy, as though she shed some tears following the game and you can’t help but stare for a second at her black eye. She cocks her head at you and you realize she’s waiting for an answer.

“Um, I just… I heard you. And I just wanted to check on you,” you realize you should’ve spent some of the time you were watching her kick thinking of what to say to her.

“I don’t need your pity party,” Jessie scoffs at you “don’t you have some celebrating to do?”

“I’m not here to pity you,” her change in tone makes you get defensive.

“Then what? You’re here to tell me it’s okay? That it’s fine it’s just a penalty, and maybe it feels that way to you,” she stabs her index finger into your chest, her touch surprises you. Both being midfielders you had contact during the game but that was different.

Before you were just the opponent in the same way she was yours, you were aware of her but in that moment she was just Jessie Fleming, a Canada’s midfielder who you needed to get the ball from. Now she was Jess, the girl you were roommates with, the girl whose shoulder you fell asleep on during a long travel day, the girl who you tutored in calculus while she in return tutored you in physics. Her whole face now just inches from yours. You share a similar height with the midfielder, leaving you eye to eye. You can feel her breath as she continues.

“You made your penalty, and you don’t have to wear the armband, you don’t have to sit with the expectation of never missing a penalty, but I do. And you didn’t let your whole team down, I did. So maybe it seems like not a big deal to you because you’re not the one going home!”

You feel like sinking into one of the puddles on the grass, this was a bad idea, you shouldn’t have bothered her. Before you can think of something to say Jessie starts again.

“Nothing? You have nothing to say to me? Then again, why did you come out here? To gloat? Because last time I checked, we’re not even friends anymore and that’s no fault of mine, that was all you, you ignored me, so why even bother? Just leave me alone, go away.”

Her words telling you that she doesn’t even consider you a friend anymore, sting. Sure it was nowhere near like it was before but you still would classify Jessie as a friend. You have every urge to tell her the truth, that you couldn’t stand seeing her with someone else and to protect yourself you took a step back. You wanted to tell her you never meant for it to silence your relationship, you just wanted to respect hers and that meant distancing yourself. Instead, you opted with the easy way out, “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” her brown eyes roll as she turns away from you.

“Jess, wait,” the short form of her name falling out of your mouth on accident. Hoping she’ll stay, you reach out grabbing her wrist preventing her from turning all the way away from you.

“I promise I didn’t come here to give you pity, honestly I’m not sure what I’m doing here.” You feel her shake your grasp from her wrist but instead of leaving she turns back facing you. “I just, I heard you and, I,” You try looking into her eyes but she’s staring at her hands that are fidgeting with the hem of her jersey.

“You already said that.” Jessie cuts you off

“I know, I know, I just,” you bring your hands up to cover your eyes rubbing your fingers along your forehead, hoping you’ll be able to squeeze the right words out of your brain. “I think I wanted to see you.” You admit finally, hoping it’s not too much at the moment.

“We just played 120 minutes against each other, you had plenty of chances to see me.” She throws back at you, her brown eyes still avoiding yours.

You begin to feel a tightness in your throat, a feeling all too familiar to you, making it harder to breathe, you start blinking away the tears that are trying to surface. You’re grateful she isn’t looking at your face. you recognize the same emotions that you felt when she had told you she was in a relationship.

Jessie had been so excited to tell you, and you tried your best to act excited for her, you really did. You had forced yourself to ask questions you really didn’t want to know the answers to. Asking about their first date, first kiss, other firsts, what Jessie liked about her, providing the typical best friend interrogation. What Jessie didn’t know was when she had hung up the phone, telling you she had to go as she was going to spend the night at her girlfriend’s, the tightness had taken over and you burst into tears.

In the moment it didn’t make sense to you, you summed it up to missing her and missing spending time with her. It took a couple months to realize your feelings were ones of jealousy. You wanted to be the girl she spent her nights with. You wanted Jessie to call up Janine and gush about you, not some other girl. And that’s when you started to pull away.

“That’s not the same, I, I just wanted to see you,” you let out a shaky breath, trying to relax before tears spill over, “I miss you.” The words come out as a whisper, almost quiet enough that you hope Jessie didn’t hear and you can move on.

A silence falls between the two of you, Jessie’s fingers are still playing with the hem of her shirt, her eyes glued to them. You look up, staring at what would be a starry night had it not been for the rain clouds covering the sky. It feels like time stops, neither of you moving, no one says anything. You stand there, looking up, while Jessie stands, looking down.

“Why now?” Jessie’s voice cracks, you can’t tell for a second if she’s looking for an answer but she continues on, “You could’ve called, or at least texted.”

“It takes you 3 to 5 business days to respond to a text.” A small laugh comes out as you say the sentence, hoping it’ll lighten the mood.

“I know, but for you,” she pauses slightly, “I would’ve answered in a heartbeat.”

Her words catch you off guard and you swing your head down. You unexpectedly meet Jessie's eyes. She’s got one hand running through her damp hair, the other resting by her side. Her stare feels intense, being under her watch gives you a feeling that sits somewhere between comfort and cowardice.

You’re lost for words, racking your brain for the right thing to say. Part of you says fuck it, tell her you love her, that you want her in every way, tell her you were jealous, you couldn’t stand seeing her with another girl, you want her to be yours and only yours.

The other and far more logical part of you says push it down, you don’t want to scare her off, you want your friend back, even if it means hearing about her girlfriend.

You’re saved from having to make a choice between the angel and devil that split your brain as your phone buzzed and a slew of texts from Lynn and Midge came in. You quickly grab your phone from your sweatpant pocket, turning the ringer off to silence the tone from going off again. You quickly skim the texts which consist of variations of ‘where are you’. You catch the time at the top of your screen realizing the game had ended nearly 2 hours ago. Sure, you had done some media, showered, and changed, but you hadn’t realized how late it was and just how long you had been standing around either watching or talking with Jessie.

“You should probably join them.” Jessie says, almost as if she could see your texts from your teammates asking when you were going to be at the bar.

“Yeah I probably should, I didn’t realize the time. The last thing I need is them sending a search party and finding me with the enemy.” You nudge her with your elbow. She gives you a quick tight lipped smile.

“I’ll uh, I’ll see you around?” You add in a raise in your voice in hopes she takes that as an invitation.

“I don’t know,” Jessie pauses, eyebrows creasing as she thinks of what to say next. “It’s just, I’m dealing with a lot right now, moving, captain responsibilities, some personal things. I just don’t know if I can add another thing on my plate right now. Maybe give me some time?” Her response isn’t the one you wanted, but you realize it’s better than a complete shutdown on her end. At least some small part of her was open to letting you back in.

“Of course, I understand the moving countries part, I mean. The rest of your stuff I don’t know about, I mean the personal stuff, and then the captain part.” You find yourself rambling at her. “But yeah that’s fine. I’ll be going.” You point your thumb in the direction of the tunnel.

She turns away, this time you let her walk away. You watch her for a moment before turning yourself and heading back to the tunnel toward your car. Just when you reach the start of the tunnel you hear it again. The sound of Jessie’s boot kicking the ball and the sound of the ball hitting the net. You turn around watching as she grabs another ball between her hands, rolls it around and then bends down to place it.

“Hey Fleming,” you call to her as she releases the ball on the ground and starts to map out her steps. You watch as she turns back over her shoulder locking eyes with you, raising her eyebrows nonverbally acknowledging your call, “Be a good teammate to yourself.”

You carry on to the parking lot, picking up your phone and calling Lynn to let her know you were leaving the stadium now. While you were too distracted on the phone, what you didn’t realize was the absence of the sound of Jessie kicking the ball.

Your words had caught her off guard, she hadn’t heard it in a few years, you last said it to her after she had a rough game at Chelsea. The simple phrase brought back feelings surrounding you that she had pushed down for a while now. She stood, staring at the ball she had just placed, taking a deep breath like she did before every penalty. Only this time, instead of stepping toward the ball with force, she simple walked toward it, picked it up and headed to grab the bag and clean up. She realized she had punished herself enough, the loss still hurt, but with your words and the smile on your face as you said it fresh in her mind, it hurt a little less.

[soaps-used-urn]

Ghost fics by other creators

Red= dark fic

Orange- fem reader

Green- g/n Reader

Purple- male reader

? - I’m not exactly sure

(I’ll keep adding DONT get mad bc there may be more than others..)

Goth reader - @v1x3n

Meeting Soap - @lovifie

Mermay - @pieckyghost (Johnny included)

Chain breakers - @bunnys-kisses

New recruit - @batfleshh

Tamed - @batfleshh

Lieutenant ghost - @ltash

Ink and needle - @gloomwitchwrites

Older boyfriend - @afatkidclub ?

Simon and his cat - @xoxunhinged

Self aware Simon - @puff0o0

Childhood bsf - @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries

Enemy’s? - @v1x3n ?

House of the rising sun - @vanderilnde ?

Late night visits - @batfleshh

Open the door to another door - @spicyspiders

Hours in silence - @sarahs-secrets2

Bury me beneath the basswood tree - @vanderilnde (Johnny included)

Ghost buster - @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries

Through me- @peachesofteal

Bimbo Reader x Ghost - @tojisun

Poking - @ninothebirb

I’ve got u sunshine - @lostquinn

Gold rush- @midnightarcheress fem reader

Wedding headcannons - @azereus (gaz included)

Affection - @batfleshh

Bunny Reader x Ghost - @pieckyghost

Mermaids - @peachesofteal fem reader

Only dinner - @astroknottt

Dumb cat - @writingoddess1125

Queens guard - @danibee33 fem reader

You fall asleep on him - @witchthewriter (tf141 included)

Rigor mortis - @b33zlebubz fem reader

Bimbo Reader - @yawnderu

Pictures he sends you - @cntloup

Simon being a light sleeper- @ghvst-ing

He saves u from creeps - @cntloup

Times you made him cry - @rodolfoparras

Bigger - @batfleshh

It’s a match! - @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries (tf141 included)

Take it all - @vivwritescrappythings

Him being vulnerable - @midnightcrw

Ur angry - @rodolfoparras

Idk how to title this.. - @shuosen

Bunny Reader x Ghost - @pieckyghost

Barracks bunny - @fortheb0ys

Zombie ghost - @simp4konig

Ghost backstory - @waiting-so-long

Whipped Simon - @c3berus

Dividers by - @cafekitsune

Header by - Pinterest

[legitalicat]

Out of Time

Chapter 1 - "Along Blackwater Bay"

AN: This dedication has been removed. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoy your works.

If you love this header go check out zaldritzosrose for more amazing work! She is tagged on the series masterlist and on my welcome post!

Find the series Master list here!

Summary: Princess Y/N Velaryon awakes on the shore of Blackwater Bay confused, hurt, and alone. She is found and escorted to the Red Keep, where she learns the circumstances surrounding her awakening.

TW: memory loss, reader is AFAB, talks/descriptions of injury, first person POV because I suck at any other POV I am sorry

Word count: 3.7 K

I awoke on the shores of King’s Landing, the water from Blackwater Bay rushing up my lower legs. My heart was pounding as I sat up. There was no reasonable explanation as to how I ended up here. Last night I went to sleep in my bed, feeling rather warm and fuzzy from the wine I had consumed at dinner.

The early morning light was shining through the mist that was coming off the water. Slowly, I made my way into a standing position. My black dress was torn around the hem, soaked from the sea water. My muscles were sore and my bones stiff. Every breath I took felt as though I was being punched in the left side. I was near certain my brown hair was wild, no longer in the neat braid I most commonly kept it in.

There weren’t any citizens on the shores this time of morning. For many, they would have already went out in their boats to begin their fishing for the day. The others, it was simply too early to start the day. However, I did see two city watchmen doing their rounds on the docks.

“Excuse me!” I shouted to them, waving my arms. They approached me, their gold cloaks shining in the sun. I recognized neither of them.

“Princess Y/N?” One asked as he stopped in front of me. I nodded softly. “Come with us.”

I could not really tell which guardsmen they were. They were in full armor, donning a helm and chainmail covering all but their eyes. Being roughly the same height as each other, that wasn’t even helpful to determine who I was following. However, I knew that nobody wearing golden cloaks would bring any harm to me. My stepfather would have their heads if my mother didn’t get to them first.

So, I made the only decision I could make in this instance. Silence laid over us like a thick fog as I walked with them through the city streets. One in front of me, one behind me, their hands on the swords at all times. We went to the barracks at which point they told me to stay in the front room. The one that had walked in front of me went off , I suppose to inform his commander of this situation, while the other man stood in the room with me. It was not long before there were a few other watchmen and even a serving girl to sit with me.

Nobody dared to speak to me other than what was necessary. Even when I threatened them with my status, first born child of the heir to the Iron Throne and betrothed to her heir, so that one day I would be Queen, did not loosen their tongues. None of my questions were answered. All that was said was that my mother would answer any question I had.

They spent longer than I thought necessary preparing a carriage to take me up to the Red Keep. I was almost certain I heard their commander send a small group of men to shut down the streets between here and the Red Keep but that couldn’t be right. Never had the streets been closed because of my travels, as there had never been a time that I was in danger. Once he received word that all the streets were closed and nobody would be looking to the street, I was put into a carriage.

My ride to the Red Keep was done with the singular maid in the carriage with me, one watchmen controlling the carriage, and three others riding around on horseback. They weren’t brought to my precession until after I was already in my seat. And still, nobody spoke to me. I could only glance out the windows at the city to try to see the citizens of King’s Landing, but it seemed though I had heard the Watch’s Commander correctly and the men did completely empty the streets.

It was midday by the time that the carriage stopped in front of the door to the keep. The door was opened and I was offered a hand to help me out. It was the first protocol that had been kept in my presence. And now that I was on the ground, I finally saw the first people besides the Gold Cloaks and the maid.

At the top of the stairs stood my mother, my step grandmother holding her hand tightly as they both looked at the carriage. Queen Alicent had always been a forceful presence in my life, demanding things of my mother and father that were crude and unfair. Though she never liked my brothers, I seemed to be near and dear to her in a way that not even her own daughter was. One could almost convince me she viewed me separately from them as though I were anyone but my mother’s daughter.

Flanking each of them were their respective sides of the family. My twin, my betrothed, Jacaerys stood beside my mother. He was more shocked than I had ever seen him when we made eye contact. There was Lucerys beside him, who looked older than he should as he was a man grown, and the same could just about be said about Joffrey. The other two boys on my mother’s side could’ve only been Aegon III and Viserys II, my two baby brothers, but they were not babies. They were easily nine and seven respectively. It shouldn’t have been possible. It was only last night that they could have easily fit in my arms, now they were half my height.

When I looked to Alicent’s side, Aegon and Aemond stood beside her with Helaena further back. Her three children, Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor stood hand in hand beside of her. Again, everyone looked older than they should, older than when last I saw them.

My step father Daemon and my step sisters Rhaena and Baela were not with my mother, but the maid whispered to me that they were visiting our grandparents in Driftmark. She gave me no answers to any other question.

Out of everyone, there were three people that desperately wanted to break free from the crowd. Obviously my mother was trying to hold some decorum, some sort of semblance of what it means to be a Targaryen, even though I could see her inching closer. Jace was completely frozen with shock, the pull that existed between us not enough to motivate his feet. Then there was Aemond, who seemed to be willing to disregard all things that could be considered proper as he took the steps two at a time to close the distance between us.

His arms were around me before I could blink, and despite the physical pain when he touched my side, it caused a comfortable feeling in my brain that soothed something inside of me. I returned his affections, desperate for some sort of connection. As much as it had always annoyed my brothers, Aemond and I were very close growing up. He and I were the last to get dragons, the last to fulfill what it means to be a Targaryen. It binds you in ways that you can’t explain to anyone else.

“Byka zaldrīzes,” he whispered to me. Little Dragon, the name he gave me the moment he claimed Vhagar, to assure me one day I would have one too. “How I have missed you.”

“I don’t understand, Aemond. Why is everyone acting as though I am not real? One would think I died.” I asked him, loud enough so that my voice would carry.

“You have been gone for nearly six years,” my mother said. I pulled myself from Aemond’s grip to look at her.

“What?” my voice was cracked under the pressure that was building in my chest. “No. No. I was just with you all last night. I would know if I had been gone.”

Then I turned my gaze to Jace, who still looked as though he has seen a ghost. His inability to come to me, the way he watched me like I was about to dissolve in the wind, not even commenting on Aemond’s grasp on me, it told me all I need to know. The words were true and I had missed out on six years.

But I needed him beside me. He was my brother, my twin, I have existed for as long as he has and will continue to exist as long as he does. We were written in the stars, always destined for each other. We had given each other everything as we knew we were to be married one day.

“Issa dārys,” I called to him. My king. He will be my king one day, a good husband and father to my future children. We will rule the kingdom together, side by side. We’ve known this for our entire lives, and once we could really understand it, there was no turning back.

He slowly descended the stairs to me. Our eyes stayed glued to each other as he closed the distance. My body yearned for him. He was my other half; we were not two separate entities, simply just two pieces of the same soul.

When he was within arm’s reach of me, his ability to show restraint faltered. He grabbed me by the face and kissed me, all regard for propriety out the window. But it wasn’t as though I minded. I belonged to Jace, I always had, so it was only natural that I returned his affections. Propriety be damned.

It was less than a minute, rather tame compared to all other kisses we’ve shared, but the moment it was over, I become increasingly aware of cracks forming in my heart. His forehead resting against mine, I could guarantee I was home. I was safe as long as we were together.

My mother had informed me that I was not to be alone for the coming weeks. When we were alone in the room I had growing up here, she held me to her and cried. She insisted on me having a bath before I see the Maesters. A few of her most trusted maids helped me out of my dress and into the bath. The way her face contorted in mental anguish, tears forming in her eyes, as she looked over my body was something I would never forget. A glance in a mirror showed I had bruises and scars scattered across my body, including over my ribcage on the left, and a busted lip I was unaware of until now.

“If it brings any comfort, I do not remember it happening,” I said to her quietly as she sat beside the tub. There was a failed attempt to prove to her I was okay as I went to pour water over my hair, but the stretching motion caused enough pain I lost my breath.

“It causes me more worry than anything,” she told me. Her voice was fragile in the same way a flower is, soft and delicate, able to be broken in one move if anyone chose. “But it is nothing you need to fret over. We shall have the Maesters examine you and treat you, in a few weeks it will be as though this didn’t happen.”

Mother asked the maids to go inform the Maesters of our need and then sent one to bring me food from the kitchens. I think it was in equal part that she needed to feel useful but also needing to just be alone with me. There was no part of my brain that could even fathom what she had been feeling for these years.

She caught me up on all of the happenings in our family while she washed me. The night I had gone missing, my grandsire was greeted by The Stranger. She lost the babe she had been pregnant with within a few days of that, a girl that was named Visenya. It was an impossible amount of grief to deal with in such a short time and all I wanted was to take away all of her pain and suffering.

“Did Otto not try to put Aegon on the throne?” I whispered to her as she took her time gently washing my hair. She refused to let it wait for the maids, insisting that five years is long enough for someone else to care for me.

“He wanted to, but when I sent Alicent a letter informing her of your disappearance, she halted her father’s plans,” she told me. “Nobody, not Aegon nor Aemond, cared for the throne after you were gone.”

“But why? She has hated you for as long as I can remember. They have hated us for just as long. What difference did I make?” I asked.

“Oh sweet girl, they have never hated you. I cannot say how they felt about your brothers, nor can I deny the resentment Alicent and I have felt for one another. You, however, have been loved throughout it all. You were the light of your grandsire’s life, Alicent has adored you from the moment she laid eyes on you. Aegon and Aemond both used to beg for your hand. You, darling, take after your father.” She ran the water through my hair, rinsing all of the dirt and oils from it. I ran my right hand through it, as that was the only arm I could lift so high without crying, and it felt much cleaner than it had before.

“Which father?” I spoke, barely above a whisper, standing with her assistance.

“Both Laenor and Ser Harwin loved you dearly, as they were both loved by you. You enchanted them from the moment you made your entrance into the world, and you did so until they died. You are both of them, the best of them, in a perfect package.”

I could only nod. Jace and I knew from a very young age that Laenor was not our blood. He claimed us all the same, cared for us as much as he could. Ser Harwin, though, made every difference in our lives. Even if Luke wasn’t completely aware, our father spent every moment he could watching over us. He trained with the boys every morning, attended my lessons as much as possible, trained me in swords in the eve. He was there for Luke’s birth, was there within a few hours of Joffrey’s. And the love he held for my mother, to be willing to love her from a distance and sire children he could never claim…it was admirable.

“Jace never married,” I stated. It was not a question, but an observation. I knew far too well that if he had, he would never have put the shame on his wife that would’ve been given to her when he kissed me so publicly.

“The two of you share a special connection. He could not bring himself to agree to any marriage proposal until we knew one way or another. He said that he would only be with his other half unless there were no other options,” she spoke softly. She helped me into a new dress, a beautiful sea green color to represent House Velaryon.

“So, until my body washed ashore somewhere?” I asked, a ghost of a laugh coming through. I could see a frown slowly creeping onto her face. “Mother, I’m sorry. I can’t Imagine how difficult the last few years have been.”

“You are back now, my darling girl. That is what matters,” she told me, sitting me in the nearest chair so that she could braid my hair. “Aegon asked me to annul his marriage to Helaena. Their’s was not a happy one, I do not wish that upon any of my family.”

I was grateful for her gentle touch as she worked carefully with my hair. It wasn’t as though my mother had ever been rough with me, but there was a gentleness that she always seemed to have whenever we were sick or hurt.

The first time Jace flew on Vermax, he pulled me onto the saddle. We both returned blistered and aching. Yet once it hit midnight and my fever had fully set in, it was realized I had an Infection because I wasn’t wearing proper dragon riding clothes and my skin was rubbed off until I was bleeding. She sat by my side for nearly a week then. She prayed to nearly every god, even the ones she had no faith in, and she was so soft with me you would think she was a mere common woman instead of the future Queen.

“And Aemond?” I asked her once she pulled her hands away from my hair.

“Refuses to marry. He has wanted to marry you since the two of you attempted to run off to Dragonstone when you were children,” she chuckled. “If I did not know you, I would say that was his idea.”

“In my defense, we had been speaking about the Valyrian traditions that have been lost. He and I were going to marry in the tradition of Valyria and then Jace and I would marry under the Seven,” I told her, a smile on my face.

I was approximately five years old when that became our plan in life. Aegon the Conqueror had two wives, so I would have two husbands. Of course, whenever Jace was told about this plan, he vehemently denied me. He said he would give me everything that I would ever need when he was king.

“He was hoping that Jace would find a new bride, so that when you came back he could have you,” she told me, taking my hands in hers. “Before you ask, yes. He was certain you would come back. He spent nearly a year searching all of Westeros for you on Vhagar. He only returned at the request of Helaena.”

“What do I do, mama?” I whispered. “It has been so long, so much has changed. Little Aegon and Viserys won’t even know me. Is Vhaela even alive?”

Vhaela was my dragon. She had been a wild dragon that approached King’s landing near six moons before my eighteenth nameday. She was the most gorgeous shade of amethyst, her scales glittering in the sunlight whenever I flew her. She had rested on a mountain not far out from the city and I snuck out of the castle to get a closer look. Never had I known of a dragon who was so calm and regal when being approached. It was like she was royalty and she knew exactly what the difference between us was. It was this confidence she carried that lead me to attempt to claim her, and she graciously agreed to a partnership with me.

“Vhaela is in the Dragon Pit. She enjoys flying when Aemond and Jace go, I believe she feels close enough to you through them to allow them to care for her. As for your younger brothers, we did not let them forget. They know you, not in the same way they know Jace, Luke, and Joffrey, but you are not a stranger to them,” she assured me. Her voice did not waiver in this. It was instead supported by a firmness that could only result from a confident truth.

She turned me to face her directly, hands starting to squeeze mine. The look on her face was so tender, so comforting, I wasn’t sure what to do except let a few tears leave my eyes. It all felt so overwhelming, and there was no certainty as to what I should do.

“You wished to be betrothed to Jace at a young age. Do you still wish it?” she asked me quietly. “Or does your heart desire another?”

“I love Jace with my entire being,” I told her firmly. It was everything I could do to ignore how my heart began racing.

“Save for the piece of your heart that has long been held by Aemond.”

My head dropped. There was nobody that I had ever told of my affections for Aemond. He had never exactly been subtle, that I would admit. A year before Luke’s claim to Driftmark was questioned, my Grandsire the King had requested my appearance at court. He wished to spend time with me. And during that time, Aemond and I grew as close as we were as children. Maybe even closer.

But that did not matter. Those were the adventures of a young girl. I was promised to Jace formally when my family came to King’s Landing. Any affections that I had for Aemond was left behind in that moment.

The kisses that we shared In the library or in the gardens were innocent. The nights spent in my chambers, talking until the sun comes up. We absolutely did not do anything that was considered something that could ruin me. We did not make each other come undone for hours every night.

“That was a girl’s exploits. I belong with Jace, we were brought into the world together and together we shall always be,” I said while trying to keep my voice steady as hers. Yet, when it came to the overwhelming truth of Aemond and I, I was never steady. And so I turned away from her, withdrawing my hands from her touch. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her stand.

“I only wish to see you happy, to marry for love and not for duty,” she told me, taking a flower from a vase nearby and sticking it in my hair. “Allow yourself to court both of them. There have been many changes during your time gone. When you have been made completely sure, I will not question your mind again.”

Before I could say anything in response, knock on the door echoed through the room. The Maesters were here to examine my injuries. Instinctually I turned to face mother, who silently promised me she was not leaving. With a deep and painful breath, I was able to nod and allow them inside.

[little-diable]

Kinktober Day 29 – Alfie Solomons

Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

🩶 Day 29 🩶 praise

Warnings: 18+, oral (f), outdoor

Alfie Solomons x fem!reader (900 words)

header by @deathofpeaceofmind

My Kinktober Masterlist

“Mhm, my pretty flower, I could get used to this sight.” Alfie’s voice filled the afternoon air, forcing her eyes to flutter open, flickering towards his smiling features. (Y/n) couldn’t help but chuckle at her husband, shaking her head as she stretched her hand out for him to take.

“Don’t act as if you haven’t seen me sit out here before, Alfie. But maybe if I’d see you around here more often you’d get to enjoy me some more.” He bent down to press a kiss to her lips, swallowing the sound of her giggles. Alfie’s beard scratched her skin as he deepened the kiss, unable to bite down his satisfied hum. 

The sun was burning from the sky, filling both with heat, a comforting sensation that made their hearts beat calmly, relishing in the silence the calm July afternoon offered them. Before she could even try to part from her husband, (y/n) felt his hands fumble with the fabric of her dress, fingers tapping her waist.

“You’re right, doll, yeah, I should be home more often. I’ve missed my wife, can I get a taste?” His raspy voice left her shuddering in anticipation, body covered in goosebumps. He sank to his knees, kneeling on the blanket (y/n) was sitting on, pushing her back down before she could respond. 

The fabric of the blanket left (y/n) feeling comfortable and protected as Alfie shifted around, forcing the fabric of her dress up to her waist, pulling her undergarments down her legs before he nestled between her thighs, “Look at you, such a pretty cunt, how could I ever let you out of my sight, huh?”

The praises leaving Alfie made her gasp, unable to speak up, unable to ask if he really wanted to do this out here, in their garden. All she could do was moan, hands fisting the fabric of the blanket to try and stay grounded. Her heart was racing, blood rushing, toes being forced to curl as Alfie’s breath met her exposed cunt.

“You’re dripping, doll, you love when I praise you, don’t you? You love being good for me.” A breathy “I do” left (y/n), a sound that was interrupted by a gasp as Alfie plunged two fingers into her tightness, spreading her walls. It had been days since Alfie had last touched her like this and yet her body couldn’t help but welcome his fingers, finding pleasure in the stretch of her walls, in the feeling of his fingertips nudging her swollen spot.

With the sun burning down on her features, (y/n) felt herself growing warmer, making sweat pearl on her forehead, body begging her to get rid of her other clothes. She knew that this was only the beginning, that he would take her up to their bedroom after he was done with preparing her for his cock. 

“Fuck, Alfie, want your mouth, please.” Alfie’s chuckles left her cheeks burning, unable to pay attention to the smirk he wore on his lips as his tongue brushed through her folds, collecting drops of her arousal. He moaned against her cunt, sucked on her pulsing bundle of nerves as he kept fucking her with his thick, ringed fingers. The gold clinging to his skin felt cool against her heat, making a whirlwind of different sensations thump through her veins. 

He ate her out with his eyes focused on her features, sure that this was the most beautiful sight his eyes ever got to take in, a masterpiece ancient painters have longed to create, though unable to succeed in doing so. She was his end and his beginning, making him feel reborn whenever she graced him with her moans clawing through her.

“Alfie,” the call of his name made him chuckle against her, enjoying that she was already close to letting go, that she was about to cum around his fingers any moment now. His fingers picked up their pace, mouth latching onto her clit, once again leaving her to arch her back off the blanket.

“Let go for me, pretty darling, my beautiful wife, I got you.” With another breathy moan leaving her, (y/n) came around his fingers, eyes rolling back into her head, fingernails about to claw holes into the fabric of the blanket. He lazily fucked her with his fingers for a few more seconds before he pulled away, moving up her body to press a soft kiss to her lips. Alfie looked at her for a few more seconds before he rose to his feet, hand stretched out for her to take, set on guiding her to their shared bedroom.

[pinkdaisies9285]

a love confession through music-DISCONTINUED

Jake Seresin x F!Reader (Callsign: Circe)

Summary: You always prided yourself on being able to handle anything. Yet, when you meet Jake "Hangman" Seresin that goes down the drain. Maybe it’s the hopeless romantic in you or maybe it's you wishing for something you can’t have. You want to be with Jake but can you handle it?

Warnings: in each chapter, Fluff, Angst

Moodboard Credit: Me Header Credit: @cafekitsune

gold rush

Be My Baby

Masterlist

[fairyrcts]

ivy , c.s. • track 2

by fairyrcts contents - intended lowercase , 3rd person , cursing , slight male masturbation

an - short cuz pink + white finna eat and i got more blurbs comin out

taglist - @pvssychicken , @gothiccvnt6996 , @emely9274 (header by @issysh3ll )

chris had felt bad after leaving the girls' apartment that night. it had been serenity's first time getting high and he wanted to help with the morning after cause he knew how much that'd suck. but, like most everyone in that city, he had places to be.

i'll check in with her later he thought

that morning, he'd gotten up, feeling terrible. it was routine at this point.

brushing off his aching head, he did his daily duties. got dressed, brushed his teeth, etc.

he'd plan to go see his friend nathan and meet him for lunch, which wasn't until 1. it was currently 10, so he had plently of time.

since having nothing to due, he made the decision to go visit serenity and check up with her.

meanwhile, she was stressing out completely.

she had slept in by an hour and was 25 minutes late to her lecture today, not to mention how absolutely gross she felt.

she was rushing to get her black stockings on, almost tripping with each movement.

"crap, crap, crap."

she'd already put on her pastel purple sweater, skirt and tied her hair up in a bun. all she needed to do was slip her boots on, grab her bag and go.

which, she did. she'd made it all the way down the stairs and out of her apartment. she thought the rest of the day would be smooth sailing, but god had other plans.

when opening the glass door to exit her apartment complex, serenity aggressively bumped into a familiar face.

she let out a small 'ow!'

chris backed up, stumbling a bit.

"jeez, do that to everyone?" his words made himself chuckle. but serenity wasn't having it.

"only to everyone standing in my way. i've got places to be, sorry." she let his comment go and began speed walking.

"hey, wait up! came to check on ya and you're runnin" he sighed before jogging to catch up to the curly-haired girl who was currently pissed at him.

"wait up, says the clueless brunette who's literally the reason i'm late!" even with her words being angry, chris was still focused on her angelic voice.

"how's that my fault?" he was now beside her as the two sped-walked at the same speed.

it was quite an eyesore to passersby. this swanlike girl, with put together clothes and dainty gold jewelry dripping off her and a taller, basic-looking white guy who's wearing baggy jeans and a sleeveless shirt that said 'pirate girl' on the front.

they definitely stuck out like a sore thumb to anyone who didn't know them.

serenity's facial expressions became blithe as she began explaining. "you got me high! i shouldn't have done that."

"okay, 1, you asked. and 2, didn't it feel good though?"

chris's words made her eyes crinkle as she thought.

yeah, it did. like a weight was lifted and a feeling of relief washed over her. but she wasn't to give him the satisfaction.

"not the point, chris. is chris short for christopher?" she remarked, now at the campus.

"uh, yeah, why?"

"now i can say your full name when i'm mad at you. i've got a lecture i'm about to miss the rest of, thanks for checking in or whatnot. if you wanna check in and not annoy me next time, ask izzy to gove you my number." serenity rushed her words as she walked up more, chris stopping to not go campus property.

she turned her dour face to look at him once more. to say chris was mesmerized was probably the perfect word.

he shot her a lopsided grin and walked away.

chris just replayed the sounds of her melodic voice as he walked back to his car. he'd rather losten to that than any music on any radio station.

-- --

after the rather exhausting day at school was over, serenity made it back to her apartment and noticed izzy hadn't been there. she leaned against the kitchen counter and opened her texts to see around 4 from a random number.

unknown

hey just wanted to say sorry for earlier

unknown

izzy gave me ur number btw

unknown

this is chris

unknown

but u prob put that tg already

she laughed to herself at the stupidity of his thought process. she saved his contact number and put it under 'chris !'

she debated wether or not to text back, but decided on it after a moment of thinking.

she simply responded to his messages with a voice message.

on the other end, chris was going insane.

he'd saw that he had a voice message and absolutely went crazy. when he played hit, he just became engulfed in what she was saying. it was small simple words, but with her butter like voice, it was more than that.

his opposite hand instinctly moved to the tent in his pants. chris slightly palmed himself through the blew jeans he wore. he imagined it was her rubbing down on his erection.

he thought how'd she react if she knew. probably not the greatest.. so out of respect, he stopped, mentally cursing himself for caring.

he sent a voice message back, jokingly talking about the effect she has on him with her voice.

the pair just sent voice memo's back and forth all afternoon, just talking about everything they could really think of.

chris responded to one of serenity's with "man, i should come over right now. i could bring over sum more weed or whatever. or nothing at all."

which definitely got her thinking. she enjoyed their conversation so far, and the result of her getting high last night wasn't that bad. what's the worse that could happen?

[thataintmymerlot]

the 1 // gold rush

taylor swift

in case you save it, please like or reblog✩°｡⋆⸜

[writing-house-of-m]

Photograph

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word count: 1895

Summary: When you and Wanda go through some old things at her family house, you recognise someone in an old photograph they have

A/N: Just a little idea I thought would be cute. I wrote this pretty quickly and didn't really edit it properly so I hope it makes sense lol Thank you @ageofevermore and @cuinaminute229 for helping my indecisive ass on the header. Any feedback or comments would be much appreciated, so let me know what you think!

There is a soft golden glow shining through the windows as the sun was beginning to say goodbye to the day. 

Taking a break from packing wasn't supposed to be long but the small group of you have been too distracted to notice the time passing. 

You came across the Maximoff family's old photographs that have been in storage. You couldn't help but flip through a photo album when you noticed they were of Oleg and Iryna's wedding day. 

It has been an hour since then, your future in-laws telling you about the relatives who have shown up as you go through different stacks of photos, some they have always been close with, some have now passed and others who are best to avoid. It was a well needed heads up for when you will have to meet them on your wedding day with Wanda. 

There are so many photos and recounts of the memories that go along with them; birthdays, anniversaries, family gatherings and all the moments in between. 

"What happened to Pietro's hair!" You exclaim, noticing a gold fading (badly) into a red colour when you flicked to a new page in the current album you are going through. 

Wanda looks at the picture laughing, explaining the memory, "He wanted to make his hair look like fire." Then she grimaces as her laugh dies out, scrunching her nose, "But he did it himself." 

You both giggle at the messy result and the sour look on Pietro's face as Oleg squashes his cheeks together. You can tell he was forced to sit there while the photo was taken at his expense. 

There was a reason you were initially going through old boxes from the attic of the Maximoff residence. You and Wanda have officially moved in together and having unpacked all the essentials weeks ago you decided it was finally time to get her final round of things. 

They would probably just end up in storage at your new house but at least Wanda would have all her things in one place. You had already done the same with your things last week. 

You hear the front door unlock, open and close signifying Pietro's return. 

After Pietro greets everyone, he notices, "Old photos?" He reaches down and picks up one of the albums, "Have you finished with getting the last of your things?" 

You and Wanda look guilty and shake your heads because you still haven't completed what you were here to do. 

"Get a move on, I've got things I need to go up there," Pietro chastises. 

Before you get to say anything, your future mother-in-law gets there, "It's about time you thought about settling down, son." 

"Ah mama, it will happen when it happens. You can't rush these things," Pietro says, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"I hope things are going well with Monica. She's such a lovely girl," she says, handing him a box to put behind him. He puts down the album he is holding and takes it from her hands. "Better than that last girl. Mantis, she called herself," Iryna cringes. 

"Mama!" Pietro exclaims to stop this conversation. 

You smile at the scene, you don't have any siblings so you have been treating Pietro as your own brother when you and Wanda got serious and you grew more comfortable with her family. 

Now that Iryna was done it was your turn, "Hey Piet, have you ever thought about dyeing your hair?" You ask. Pietro squints his eyes at you because of the 'random' question, "Maybe, err, yellow and red?" You laugh along with his family. 

"Ah! I thought I got rid of all of those!" He furrows his brows picking up a different album from before, "Where is it?" 

"You will never know, 'hot head'," Wanda responds. Getting a round of laughter. 

He gives Wanda a side eye before looking through the album he is holding. Eventually he takes a seat opposite you and Wanda on the floor. 

Pietro thinks aloud as he flips through the book he is currently going through, "Hey, I remember this place. We weren't there for long though." 

Iryna looks at the photo over Pietro's shoulder as he holds it up for her. She hums, agreeing, "We weren't there for long, two months I think?" She turns to Oleg so he can take a look. He walks closer and nods his head. 

He chuckles under his breath remembering, "My job at the time relocated me to the wrong place, it was such a mess and a huge headache." 

"I think I remember that, we were even enrolled at the local school for a little while," Wanda adds. 

Pietro notices another photo, this time one of Wanda and another student from said school. He passes it to her, "Do you remember this?" 

"Oh yeah!" Wanda takes the image from him, "We got along so well. I missed them for the longest time after we moved," she reminisces. "I don't remember their name. I don't think I ever got it, actually." 

"Such a good friendship you didn't even get a name?" Pietro laughs.

You finally look away from the album in your lap that has had your attention. Furrowing your eyebrows because you recognise the child sitting beside Wanda in the image, "How do you have this?" 

All four Maximoff's look at you at the same time. 

You feel the silence until Wanda explains, "I completely forgot but seeing this photo I remember making one friend in my last few weeks there." She points at the two figures sitting with cheesy grins and arms wrapped around each other. "I can't believe I forgot about my time there." 

You are quite literally gobsmacked listening to the story unfold. 

Iryna chimes in, "Well, school had barely started before we moved again. It's not surprising you don't remember."  

"I know the name of the kid," you reveal. The others look in disbelief and wonder as you sit there smirking. 

"Really? How? Who is it?" They all ask questions at once. 

"It's me," you say with a breathy laugh. 

"What?!" Wanda looks closer at the picture and even her parents come over to get a better look. 

"No way," Pietro gasps as they all hover over the photograph. 

"I told you where I moved from when we first met, remember?" You ask Wanda, getting her attention again. 

"I didn't know the name of the place, look how small we were," she replies, pointing at the image. 

Wanda then joins her family who are all mumbling different similarities between you and the child in the photo. You listen to as much as you can, chuckling to yourself pulling out your phone. 

Last week when you packed your final things from your parents home you too had found old albums there. With everything going on, moving houses and planning a wedding, it completely slipped your mind to show Wanda the old pictures you had taken snapshots of when you were younger. 

Putting the phone next to the photograph everyone compares the two. Wanda is speechless as she looks at you in the same disbelief you felt when you first saw the picture, "I can't believe it."

"Neither can I!" You scoff out. 

"This is so crazy!" 

"I know!" 

"Nothing can stop a great love," Oleg speaks, stopping you and Wanda with your back and forth while he casually walks away. But you and Wanda smile at each other blushing a little because of his comment. 

"We became friends so fast," Wanda leans into you, looking at the photo.  

"Yeah," you speak into her hair, kissing the top of her head. "And then you forgot about me," you finish cheekily. 

Wanda pulls away and smacks your arm. Then takes on an earnest look, "But seriously, I was so sad to lose you, I finally made a friend and a really cool one at that," she trails off. 

"We still found each other again though," you say. 

"Yeah, we did," Wanda says with a soft smile. 

You lean against each other to look at the photo for a little while longer. Looking at the happiness and innocence radiating from your younger selves.

Unbeknownst to you, Pietro snaps a photo on his phone of the two of you smiling down at the captured memory. In his mind this was him getting his wedding gift sorted. 

When you have been through the stacks of pictures, you eventually go back to packing the last of Wanda's things. It is all taken to your new place and you are both exhausted. 

You decide to leave unpacking it all until the next day and when you do, you come across the photo again. 

"Your mom must have put this in here," you smile at Wanda. 

She takes it from you and instead of putting it in storage she places it above the fireplace. You make a mental note to buy a frame for it. 

At the end of the day you sit on the couch after another exhausting day. 

"Fourteen years," you say randomly. Wanda looks at you quizzically so you clarify, "I worked it out, us meeting again after that photo was fourteen years." 

"Wow," Wanda breathes out, sitting against you as you wrap an arm around her. "I guess we were always destined to be together." 

Wanda looks up at you making you look down at her. You share a small kiss and when you separate you continue looking at the picture. 

You talk about how fate has brought you here and how thankful you are for finding each other again even without either of you knowing who the other was. 

"I guess our love transcends all boundaries." 

Wanda smacks your chest lightly, "You dork"

"Yesterday, you said I was really cool! You can't take that back!" 

"That was before the cheesy one-liner." 

"Well, you better get used to it. It will get worse when we get married. Not to mention the jokes I'll come up with when we have kids," you smile. 

Wanda looks up at you again so you meet her gaze, "Hmm, yeah, but I think you mean 'kid' as in singular," you smile at her correction of the future plans you have discussed, "and a dog, of course," she says innocently. 

"No, no, no, I never agreed to getting a dog. I said we could get a cat," you correct. 

"Don't worry I didn't forget about Tom," Wanda says nonchalantly.

"Tom?! We didn't agree to any names yet either!" 

"Are you sure? So where did I get; Wilma, our daughter, and Spike, our dog, from?" Wanda asks, raising a brow. 

"Probably the same place you forgot about the best friend you ever had," you say pushing Wanda, forcing her to lay on the sofa with you carefully placing yourself on top. 

You press your lips to her soft ones and because you are both smiling too much you have to stop. Instead, you settle with kissing the tip of her nose. 

"And here I thought we would be making these big decisions together. We still have a wedding to plan first, you know?" You muse. 

"Yeah, I know. But I can't help myself thinking of our life together," Wanda says, caressing your face. 

Just as fate brought you together, it has a few more surprises for you as you continue your life together. 

[foundress0fnothing]

Happy April 9th! I’m thrilled to be able to bring you the second installment of Double Blind for the ACOTAR Writing Circle, organized by @azrielshadowssing. The fic was a delight to continue—I hope you like it!

The story was originated by the incomparable @hlizr50 (who also designed this beautiful header) 💕 You can read Part 1 here. Stay tuned for the third and final part of the story on April 23rd.

Many thanks to UBC for their suggestions for Azriel’s go-to bar drink, and for @ofduskanddreams for hitting the nail on the head with a simple, classic G&T.

Bonus points if you can spot the line I lifted from Pirates of the Caribbean 👀

Read here on AO3!

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GWYN

Gwyn felt her blush heighten at Azriel’s words. What was she supposed to say in response to that? Thank goodness, because I was wishing this date was with you anyway? Or No, Azriel, nothing would make me happier? Or Yes, let’s get out of here right now and go somewhere quiet to see just how happy we can make each other?

No. All of that was too serious, too soon. Especially that last one. And anyway, perhaps Azriel was just relieved at the promise of an easy evening spent with a friend. Nothing more—no flirting, no romance, no intimacy. Just friends. 

Even if the sight of him standing there in a black jacket was almost enough to make her blurt all of those foolish thoughts out anyway. Had she ever seen him out of his leathers before? He was magnificent in them, certainly—all muscle and cold, breathtaking brutality. But out of them, in normal clothes? His beauty was brutal in a wholly new way, both more terrifying and more inviting all at once. She wondered what it would be like to slip the coat off of his well-muscled shoulders, tracing the strength in his arms, undressing him bit by bit until he stood bare before her.

And had he ever seen her out of her priestess robes or her leathers? Gwyn was suddenly aware of the neckline of her dress and the way the velvet clung to every curve, remembering with no small amount of mortification that she had announced to him that she was “ready to explore intimacy with a male.” And here she was with him. On their date. While he looked like that. 

Cauldron boil her. 

Caught in a lusty daze, she only slowly realized that his eyes were watching hers almost … expectantly? 

Right. She had to say—had to do—something. They had their bargain after all, and Gwyn was determined to uphold her end of it, even if just platonically.

Hoping that Azriel hadn’t noticed the reddening of her cheeks and her too-long silence, she gestured for him to sit in the chair across from her at the table and decided a teasing response would be best. Safe, even. Familiar territory for them and all that. “Nothing? Nothing at all would make you happier?” She challenged, offering him a grin as he took his seat.

Azriel paused for a second, blinking at her and furrowing his brow. Then, easing off his coat to reveal a forest green shirt that Gwyn was definitely, positively not staring at, he simply said, “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Not … I don’t know, new training leathers? A good night’s sleep? Finally beating Cassian in an arm wrestling contest?” 

The Shadowsinger only scoffed and arched an eyebrow at her suggestions, silently asking if she was done.

Was she? The teasing had helped her feel more like herself around him, and the adrenaline rush she had felt at the surprise of seeing him as her date had mostly dissipated. She could be normal, friendly Gwyn to normal, friendly Azriel.

But still … she wanted something from him, something just to confirm her suspicions that they were there as friends, and only friends. Even if they had both expected romance tonight—even if the alcove where they were seated was candlelit and cozy, and the sunset off the river behind them glinted in a way that made the gold in Azriel’s hazel eyes shine more brightly, and the wine she had been drinking—bubbly and sweet—made her want to see if kissing Azriel would make her feel the same way. And even if Gwyn had to admit to herself that she wouldn’t mind it overly much if this actually was a date—a real date—with Azriel. And that she sort of hoped it still could be, if he wanted it to be real too.

So, not letting it go, she asked, “What about world peace? Lasting peace in Prythian and the Continent. That would have to make you happier than dinner with me. And,” she continued, taking a sip of her wine to give herself something to do with her hands, “if you disagree, then I think you might just be a terrible male, much as I would hate to say it.” She arched her brow in question, watching his eyes glint at her mock seriousness.

Rather than returning her jest like she expected, however, his eyes grew serious, and he said, “Then I suppose I will be terrible, Gwyneth, if it means I get to have you tonight.”

Gwyn felt her blush, which had finally faded, return with a vengeance as she looked away, her mind filling with thoughts about what Azriel having her tonight might mean—his hands tangled in her hair as he kissed her, or cupping her breasts as he licked his way down her stomach, or palming her ass as he dropped his head to taste between her thighs. She was on fire, heat pooling in her stomach as she prayed to the Mother that her scent wouldn’t shift. That was certainly not a conversation Gwyn wanted to have with Azriel. Not yet, at any rate. 

She dared to glance up at him only to see that he too was blushing, having realized the innuendo in his declaration. Was he embarrassed? Did he regret what he said? Or only its implications? Or … neither? Not for the first time, Gwyn found herself wishing that his hazel eyes were slightly less inscrutable. 

Before either of them could say anything, however, a female Gwyn didn’t know chose that moment to come over to their table.

“Well, Shadowsinger,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “I never thought I’d see the day that you finally decided to grace my humble restaurant with one of your dates.”

Gwyn giggled at Azriel’s scowl, and the female—who must have been Sevenda—smiled back sweetly at him. Gwyn could read the fondness, the familiarity in the gesture. “You two are close,” she remarked, more a statement than a question.

When Azriel didn’t answer and only continued scowling, Sevenda huffed a laugh. “Yes. Old friends. And he’s one of my best customers, even if he has no manners to speak of.”

At that, Azriel’s scowl deepened. “My manners are perfectly fine, Sevenda. Cassian is the one without any, as you know.”

“Then why haven’t you introduced me to your lovely date, hmm?”

“When have I had a chance?" Azriel grumbled.

Gwyn, barely holding in her laughter at the banter, decided that it was time for her to jump in. “Gwyneth Berdara,” she said, smiling up at Sevenda, “although most people just call me Gwyn. I’m a priestess in the library.”

“And a Valkyrie. And a Carynthian.” Azriel supplied her other two titles, pride and something Gwyn couldn’t quite name in his voice.

“Well, Gwyneth Berdara—priestess, Valkyrie, Carynthian—I am honored to meet you,” Sevenda said with a wink. “And to feed you! You already have a drink, yes?”

Gwyn held up her half-full wine glass.

“And your usual for you, Shadowsinger?”

He nodded. “Thank you, Sevenda.”

“I’ll be back in a minute to get your food orders, then.” Looking at the two of them sitting together, she declared, “Good,” and then turned to walk back to the bar at the front of the restaurant.

“What did she mean by that?” Gwyn asked Azriel as soon as Sevenda was out of earshot. “What does ‘good’ mean?”

Azriel hummed noncommittally. “Probably nothing.”

Gwyn narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t think that’s true.” 

She wanted to know what Sevenda meant—and what it meant to Azriel to hear it, if it meant anything at all. Although the tension of the moment before Sevenda appeared had passed, Gwyn couldn’t get Azriel’s serious look out of her mind, couldn’t stop hearing the bass of voice rumble as he declared he’d pick having her over anything else.

Azriel sighed, breaking Gwyn’s train of thought, and then said, “Sevenda’s known me for a long time. If her ‘good’ meant anything, it’s just that she’s happy to see me here. With you.”

“With me?”

“With someone who makes me happy,” he amended, the grin from when he first saw her at the table shyly sliding over his face again. 

“And do I … do I make you happy?” Gwyn knew the answer, she hoped, but she wanted to hear it anyway.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Berdara?”

“At least once more, Azriel.”

Gwyn watched him close his eyes briefly as she said his name, and she wondered how it sounded to him, if hearing his name fall from her lips warmed him as much as hearing him utter hers warmed her.  

Opening his eyes, he reached out and took her hand. Gwyn’s teal eyes met his hazel ones as her breath caught in her throat. She found she could finally read what he was thinking, could finally make out the feeling that lay behind the impenetrable mask. But he voiced it anyway. “Yes, Gwyneth Berdara—priestess, Valkyrie, Carynthian—you make me very happy.”

Gwyn blushed, and then decided that she too could be brave. “You make me very happy as well, Shadowsinger.”

“Oh, do I?” If possible, his smile grew larger, and Gwyn thought she had never seen a more breathtaking sight. Still holding her hand in his, fingers skirting the bargain tattoo inked on her wrist, he asked, “You know what else would make me happy?”

“What’s that?” Gwyn’s answer slipped out a little breathier than she would have liked, but his fingers on her wrists were driving her to distraction, teasing and tempting all at once. 

“If I knew if this was a real date for us. Or if it’s just two friends helping each other fulfill a bargain.”

Gwyn felt her heart stutter to a stop. “Do you want it to be real?”

Azriel only hummed, fingers still moving over the tattoo. “I asked first.”

She didn’t allow herself time to overthink, to worry about what might happen to their friendship if she got this wrong. Gwyn only said, “Yes.”

And without breaking eye contact, Azriel lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it gently, chastely, but that didn’t stop Gwyn from feeling the heat of his lips travel up and across her body, suffusing her with warmth. “It’s been real for me since the moment I saw you at that table.”

AZRIEL

As Gwyn polished off the plate of Sevenda’s food in front of her—dill yogurt pasta topped with spiced lamb, currants, and nuts—Azriel wondered what he had done to get so lucky.

Because Gwyn was here with him. As his date. And not just to fulfill a bargain. He could have whooped with joy, had he been the whooping type, when she said yes to the feelings between them being real, when she let him kiss her hand. 

And, oh, he wanted to kiss more—so much more—than just her hand. He hadn’t realized how thoroughly the feeling of her skin beneath his lips would wreck him, how much it would make him burn with the need to know exactly how the rest of her tasted. Her cheeks and her chest were flushed from the heat of the restaurant and the wine, and Azriel wondered how far down that blush extended past the maddening neckline of her dress.

He hoped he would get to find out.

Gwyn cleared her throat, and Azriel simultaneously realized that he had been staring too long and that his shadows—the meddling, disloyal assholes—had decided they no longer needed to mask his scent.

“See something you like, Shadowsinger?” Gwyn asked, grinning wickedly.

Azriel flushed, thanking the Mother that Gwyn seemed pleased at the development rather than repulsed. 

Deciding that no verbal answer would rescue his dignity, he settled for grabbing his drink, polishing off what was left in one final gulp.

She laughed and said, “It’s still so predictable that your drink of choice is a gin and tonic.”

He scowled. “How is it predictable?”

“It just …” she paused, looking for the right words. “It just fits what I’d expect you to look for in a drink. Simple, easy to make.” Gwyn’s eyes took on that playful glint that Azriel knew meant she was about to start baiting him. “Dare I say … safe?” She grinned at him, waiting for his reaction.

And he took the bait, as he always did. “Like fruity wine is that adventurous.”

Gwyn sniffed primly. “It had bubbles, at least.”

But her eyes crinkled at the corners, and Azriel found himself rolling his eyes fondly. “You’ll come to love gin and tonics eventually, Berdara.”

“I think I just might, Azriel.”

And he didn’t think she was just talking about drinks anymore.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asked.

Gwyn looked at him, suddenly serious.

“There’s no pressure for this date to be any more than what it’s been already, Gwyn. But if you’d like—”

“Yes,” she interrupted. “I would like.” 

Azriel thought he might die right there. Whatever else the night became, this moment was perfect, untouchably perfect. 

“But I don’t want to go back to the House. I’m not ready to face those busybodies and have to admit they were right.” She wrinkled her nose.

Laughing at how scrunched her face was, utterly smitten, he stood and held out a hand to her. “Come on. I know a place close by.”

[tartrat]

Thoughts on the new songs (I accidentally deleted the title header thing and i don't know how to get it back)

I don't have any art for this unlike the Nightswan prequel

Todo De Ti - Fun and colourful. Should be hard difficulty instead of d*n't r*sh. Also what was that gold move like ok let me do a random drop down onto the ground and immediately get back up. Anyway it was great.

Don't Rush - This is one of the worst songs I've ever heard. The map and dance are good but because the song is awful it just brings everything down.

Circus Extreme - This is the first time that I've managed to get megastar on this one. Last time that I did it was back in June of 2020 when i decided to do every extreme in JD2020 and Unlimited. Tempted to learn it but i want to learn Gimme More Extreme and Slomo first

Part of Me - I was too tired to do it (Between the other three songs and having done an A-level exam im kinda tired today) but from what i remember it is really tiring (I don't really like a lot of the maps from JD4)

Anyway we'll probably find out the next two songs and legacy songs later and I'm kinda hoping for Montero as one of the other legacy songs. I'm also guessing that Si'ha Nova will be the legendary avatar for the season because we just had The Traveller and she sort of fits the vibe.