#got a fan and an open door and that's all we got to cope right now

[passion8alot]

aussie slang translation for the gang tonight:

chewing on a dog's eye with a some dead horse tonight = eating meat pie with tomato sauce tonight

[vxsellie]

𝔩𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔤𝔬. — E.W

summary. ellie slipped between your fingers, falling right out of your grasp as though she were liquid. it was better for you both, sure, but that doesn't make losing her any easier. ⌇ 4.7k wc.

notes. i posted a poll a few weeks ago asking what u guys wanted to see & this was ur answer so here she is! i hope it lives up to ur guys standards! anyway,, first and foremost, this is based off of the songs 'your needs, my needs' & 'call your mom' by noah kahan. he does a fantastic job depicting addiction and the impact of its severity. i heavily suggest listening to those songs in order to grasp the depth of what i'm trying to portray here.

second, i want to preface this by saying that i am not romanticizing or promoting addiction in any way whatsoever. drugs & alcohol are horrible coping mechanisms. as someone who has lost many loved ones to such horridly, i'm writing this in an attempt to shine light on the raw, dark side of what this can lead to. if u or anyone u know is struggling with something similar to ellie in this story, my DMs are always open!

warnings. graphic depictions of death and grief, substance abuse, alcohol & drug addiction, brief toxicity, intoxicated arguments, flashbacks, mentions of vomit, unintentional suicide attempt, angst angst angst

FEBRUARY.

cold fingertips brush the skin of your cheekbone, rousing you from slumber. you know who it is without having to open your eyes, her voice proof of that. ellie's breath still smells of her minty toothpaste as it fans across your face. she leans down to press a kiss to your nose. "good mornin'."

you groan, draping an arm over your eyes. ellie chuckles, her footsteps padding across the hardwood flooring of your shared bedroom. metal scrapes against itself as she pulls the curtains back, allowing sunlight to file through the space. your groans only grow in volume at this, pulling the duvet over your head.

"it's too early." you grumble, voice muffled beneath the pleated fabric.

"baby," she crosses the room back to the bed. you feel the mattress dip under her weight as she sits down on the edge, one of her hands coming to massage the calf of you leg. "it's almost noon."

begrudgingly, you peel the blanket away from your face and frown at her. auburn hair glows like a halo around the crown of her head, her freckles catching the light against her fair skin. oh and those eyes. god, you could look into them until the world came crumbling around you — which it technically has, considering the apocalyptic milieu that encompasses jackson.

"it's saturday, els." you tell her. "we can sit around and do nothing all day."

a smile tugs at her lips, dimples adorning her skin. "actually, maria wanted our help in the gardens today, remember? you got drunk a few weeks ago and agreed."

"oh. i was really excited to be unproductive." you sigh, expression falling. "we could've made breakfast, cozied up on the couch, watched a few sad movies, have sex. y'know, the domestic crap that elderly couples do?"

"first of all, i already made you breakfast." she says, nodding her head in the direction of the opened door. you turn toward it, craning your neck to peer through the doorway. sure enough, there's a plate of eggs and bacon sitting untouched on the countertop in the kitchen. "second, we can still cuddle and watch movies after helping maria. third, we can have sex whenever we want. we don't need to plan it out like teenagers anymore."

you grin at her, "yeah, but where's the fun in that?"

she laughs, the sound melodic. it carries through the air like a hymn, alighting the nerves within you like an ignited flame. if you were a wick, ellie would forever be the match. she lights you up, acting as apollo to your icarus. well. without the harsh fall, of course.

"c'mon, stupid." she says, grabbing you by the wrists and pulling you into a sitting position. you allow yourself to be pulled, dramatizing ellie's haste as you flop forward, leaning against her chest. it shakes with laughter as she removes a hand from your wrist to run her fingers through your hair.

it's matted and unbrushed, though she loves it just the same. loves you just the same. no matter how bad your breath smells in the mornings or how tangled your hair, ellie would never dream of complaining. why would she? to be given the chance to wake up next to you each day, she'd do anything. even if that includes putting up with your silly jokes and your dysania.

domesticity is irrefutably ellie's absolute favorite thing in the world. to make breakfast for you, moving about the kitchen you'd decorated together. to brush her teeth beside you. to give you a gentle kiss before leaving the house. to spend the day longing for your embrace. to come home to you warming dinner over the stove. to listen to you ramble on about your day over the meal. to take a shower where your shampoos sit side by side, her having to use yours when her own runs low. to return to bed to see you dressed into something cozy. to latch onto you under the blankets, limbs tangling together. to smell your hair and know hers smells the same. to fall asleep in the proximity of the girl she loves.

that's her favorite. that's what she'd rather eat glass than live without. and she'd never fathom the idea of doing it with anyone else.

MARCH.

the day joel dies is hard on everyone. he was a glue to the town of jackson, his country drawl and greying hair fading together into a soft presence that was adored by all.

especially by ellie.

and you knew this better than anyone. she loved joel like a father, perhaps even more so. she looked up to him as though the man had hung the stars in the sky. when he died, everything good and right in the world died alongside him. including ellie's gentility. her green eyes hardened, her smiles thinned, her hair matted. she was a wreck.

she doesn't do anything, though nobody in town expects her to. you've picked up on all the chores around the house, refusing to make her do anything in such a state of grief. she holes up in the bedroom all day, never leaving bed. not even to eat.

the first few days of this, you had to force her to eat, coaxing her into opening her mouth and having to remind her to chew. she claimed it tasted like chalk and she needed to spit it out. she cried when you refused to let her. "i don't want it." she'd repeated over and over between sobs, despite only having taken a bite of the stew you made. she leaned on you, her greasy hair falling over her face. you rubbed her back, the vertebrae of her spine poking through her skin.

"i know baby, i know." you whispered. it took everything in you not to start crying at the sound of her sobs, but you knew that would only make things worse. so you stayed beside her until her cries ceased and her limbs fell limp against you. you then laid her back against the mattress, making a mental note to approach this better next time.

she eventually got better at eating, though progress was slow. she's now currently able to eat one meal a day without puking it back up from nausea. the amount of times you've held that poor girl's hair back for her is immeasurable. she's not herself. and it pains you to see her like this, but you haven't a clue how else to handle it.

it's been two weeks since joel's death. ellie has still yet to leave the house and rarely leaves the bed, though she goes to the bathroom now. so thats good. you think it is, at least. she still needs to be reminded when to eat and needs help in the shower sometimes, or she'll stay in there for hours without even touching the soaps. her mind is a plethora of nonsense, malarkey acting as the puppeteer to her every waking thought.

"here," you speak softly, reaching across the tub to grab her shampoo. when you pick it up, you register that it's barely been used. you frown at this. "ellie, why—"

"i like yours better." she mutters, so quiet you can barely hear her voice.

"what? you never liked mine better." you say with a frown, though you don't hesitate to oblige her request. you place her shampoo down and grab your own. "you've always insisted that we buy that specific brand for you."

"yeah, because it's the brand joel uses- uh, used."

your movements cease, heart clenching. her voice cracked as she spoke, eyes burning as she swallowed harshly. you take a deep breath to ground yourself, blowing out through your mouth. you can not cry right now. not in front of her.

you'd made that mistake last week. you started crying when you saw her journal and all the crossed out drawings of joel. she frowned, appearing genuinely confused by your sadness. she comforted you, which only made you sob harder. you felt so, so guilty for it because she's the one who should be comforted, not you. but she's so loving that she can't even stomach seeing you upset.

as you apply your own shampoo into ellie's scalp, massaging it to bubbles, you decide that you'd do anything for her. for your light, your apollo.

MAY.

it's like living with a ghost. two months since joel's death and ellie has begun to change. drastically. she's never home anymore, always hanging out with her friends or busying herself with work. you have the sneaking suspicion that it's her way of keeping her mind from succumbing to that aching grief that embodied her in march. so you say nothing, deciding to let her be.

though, admittedly, you begin to wonder what she does when she doesn't come home. when she stays out for three days without telling you where she's going nor been. when you cook dinner for two, only to eat for one. when your shampoo sits in your shower only used on one scalp.

you've found it hard to fall asleep alone after living with ellie for so long. you'd grown dependent on the comfort her presence provides. tangling your legs together under the blanket while her arms wrap around your waist. now, in her stead lies an empty mattress and unwrinkled sheets.

it's currently been three days since you last saw ellie. you're sitting at the dinner table alone, picking at your pasta when you hear a rapid knock at the door. you instantly perk up.

you hope it's ellie, though you wonder why she doesn't just let herself in. she has her own set of keys, so why knock?

you stand from your chair, the legs scraping against the wood flooring as your push to your feet. the door creaks on its hinges when you pull it open. just as you'd thought, ellie stands on the porch. her head is lowered, auburn tufts covering her face like a veil. or perhaps a mask.

you open the door wider to allow her entry. the light pools out onto the porch and across the tops of her converse. she notices the shift and begins to enter, though she's acting strange. she's stumbling over her own feet, refusing to lift her head. your brows furrow as you lock the door behind you.

when you turn around, ellie is sitting in your chair as she begins to eat from your plate of pasta. you frown, "i can get you a serving, if you want. i made enough for two. i always do."

she lifts her head and you realize why she's acting so weird. between her lidded eyes and bloodshot scleras, it's clear that she's not sober. she raised a brow at your staring, "what?" her tone is sharp, unlike herself.

"nothing, baby. it's fine." you sigh, turning to grab her a plate from the cabinets above your head. you pull one from the shelf and begin to add pasta onto it. however, by the time you reach the table, ellie's passed out atop it. her face is smushed into the tabletop, hair getting all in your food.

you huff out a breath, shifting to hold her plate in one hand before lightly shaking her shoulders with your other. she doesn't rouse so you shake her even harder. eventually, she snaps awake. perhaps too quickly, because she thrashes out. her arms flail, knuckles colliding with your cheekbone.

the plate in your hand falls to the floor, glass shattering against wood. ellie's eyes widen, her gaze trained on your face as yours remains trained on the broken dish below your feet.

she begins to stand, "i didn't mean—"

"it's okay, els." you assure her with a small smile, urging her to sit back down. the last thing you want is glass in her foot.

"no, i—" she shakes her head, clearly fighting her own mind as she combats for ascendancy over her inebriation. "i hit you.. i never meant to— to ever—"

"ellie." you interrupt, voice hard. "it's fine."

her lips thin as she gives you a curt nod in response. you walk into the kitchen to retrieve the broom. when you return, ellie is out of her chair and walking toward the door. you frown at her and she gives you a pitying look before exiting the house without another word.

AUGUST.

"drugs, ellie?" you shout, hands flying up in emphasis. "you're taking fucking pills now!?"

"don't snoop through my shit!" she shouts back.

your voices bounce off the walls of your home. once such a cozy, quiet place of solace. now only visited in short increments when in need of food or a bed. the light of the candle you'd lit this morning glows a soft orange, almost taunting you with its clashing softness.

ellie hasn't been home all month. she finally came back last night, kissing you gently as she apologized for acting so strange. she confided in you, explaining how she's been having a hard time but intends to make up for it. her hands were benign as she ran them over your bare skin last night. oh so kind, she was. her words were like music, playing the exact lyrics that you'd coveted for months.

only to wake up this morning and find out the truth. you'd come into the kitchen to prepare her breakfast, a soft smile on your lips as you lit the candle. you'd noticed that she left her coat on the counter and reached to grab it for her. you hadn't meant to snoop, just to clean up behind her. as you've been doing since march.

but then you heard an odd sound from within the pocket. you reached into it, thinking she'd left her keys. and you knew ellie long enough to know that she'd freak out, thinking she'd lost them if you didn't put them on the table for her.

but they weren't her keys. they were pills.

"i didn't snoop, you asshole!" you exclaim. "i was trying to help you!"

"i don't need you controlling my fucking life all the time!" she shouts, features contorted into an expression of rage that you'd never seen her wear. it was disquieting.

"controlling?" you shake your head in disbelief. "i'm trying to keep you from doing shit you'll regret! i'm sorry for caring!"

"oh, don't fucking turn this on me." ellie scoffs.

you watch her with furrowed brows. is she serious? turn this on her? you're genuinely unsure on what you did wrong. you let her back into the home, slept with her, made her favorite breakfast in bed. then found out that she fucking lied. she was keeping shit from you.

your tone is much softer when you ask, "..were you even sober last night?"

her jaw clenches, but she doesn't respond. tears well in your eyes at the thought.

you'd never been more excited than you were last night. to finally have her back. your ellie. to have her coming back to you, for you. you'd fallen asleep last night studying her features. your fingertip traced the slope of her nose down to the cupids bow of her lip.

your chest aches as you say these next words. "get out of my house."

"your house?" she asks.

you feel like your drowning. or perhaps you're choking. or falling. but whatever it is, you're sure it's irrevocable. your throat is so tight you can hardly breathe. "i want all your shit packed and out of here by the end of the month."

ellie's eyes widen. "you're not serious."

"i've never been more serious in my fucking life." you say. "you can't storm in here whenever you want, use me like some whore, then leave when you feel like it. i'm tired of your bullshit ellie, that was my final straw."

her eyes are glassy as she grabs her coat — which is still full of pills — and leaves.

the moment the door slams shut behind her, you fall to the floor. your knees give out beneath your weight, the tile flooring cold against the palms of your hands. so this is what it is to fall. to chase the sun and get burned. to melt your wax and plummet. all you can thing, as you hear ellie's muffled cries outside the door, is how much you empathize with icarus for being foolish enough to reach for apollo.

OCTOBER.

jesse is throwing a party for his twenty second birthday. it's not a huge party, but large enough that you're sure ellie will be there. it's only been two months since you broke things off with her.

nothing, since then, has felt real. the length of your hair, the shape of your bones, the height of your spine. nothing is right in the world. in you.

but this is for jesse, not for ellie. if she's here today, that's her problem. not yours. for once, it's ellie's turn to regret. you're sick of being the one crying at night when you can hear her unlock the door to retrieve her things when she thinks you're asleep. you're fucking tired of it. she's the one who ruined everything.

you knock one, two, three times before the door swings open. dina smiles at you kindly as she widens the door to allow you inside. you thank her, though you know she's not your friend. you two aren't on bad terms necessarily, she just doesn't seem like you all that much. which is fine.

you enter the home to see that most guests have already arrived and are already drinking. jesse is in the living room, a goofy party hat atop his head as he shouts at the television. behind him, people laugh from the couches. one of those people is ellie. her legs are spread, an empty beer bottle hanging from her loose fingers. she doesn't seem to notice you, engrossed in whatever is happening on the tv. dina's gaze lingers on you for a moment before she leaves.

you walk to the kitchen to place your belongings down, pulling out the gift that you'd bought for jesse. the kitchen is empty, everyone else having crowded into the living room. though, it doesn't stay empty for long.

"what're you doin' here." ellie's voice speaks from the doorway. you don't look in her direction, not daring to.

"jesse's my friend too, ellie." you remind her with a sigh, placing the gift on the counter alongside all the other gifts.

part of you yearns to run to her, to pull her into your arms out of pure instinct. but you're not able to do that anymore because she's not yours. you spent over five months trying to comfort her into sobriety, only for your efforts to be in vain. so, instead of acting on foolish impulse, you keep your feet planted in place as you refuse to face her.

"you can't even look at me?" she slurs, voice tinged with annoyance.

"you're not yourself, right now." you say, eyes remaining pinned to the countertop in front of you. "i don't want to see you like this."

in truth, you know the sight of her so intoxicated would only ruin you further. it'd make you yearn for her even more as your mind reminisces on all that's been lost. all those wasted months you could have spent with her. all those nights you took for granted. those smiles. those eyes. seeing her like this would tarnish the few good memories that prevail.

"right," she scoffs, "'cause you're such a fuckin' saint yourself."

"i might not be a saint, but at least i'm still me." you say. "i haven't changed into some pathetic shell of a person."

her jaw clenches, "i'm still me, too."

"no, ellie, you're not." you finally lift your head to face her. your brow is knitted, concern painting your features with something akin to sorrow. it shoots through ellie's chest like a dagger, the sight of your saddened expression. she swallows, burying whatever sense of guilt she feels deep under a facade of vexation. "you're not the woman i fell in love with, you—"

"yes i am!" she shouts, slamming the empty bottle onto the countertop. a long clang rings through the space between you. "i'm the same fucking person!"

"ellie, dont—"

"y'know, back in april, you told me that grief comes in all different forms. you told me that what i'm feeling is normal! you—" her words are cut off by the sound of her voice cracking. your heart cracks along with it.

"that was before i knew how bad this would get." you say. "i thought it was just alcohol."

"it was!" she exclaims. "for a while, it was!"

"it doesn't matter what it was." you snap. "it's no longer just alcohol anymore. you're into pills and drugs and—"

"you can't fuckin' blame me for that!" she yells. you're sure everyone can hear her now. though, due to how drunk they are, you doubt they care enough to eavesdrop. "i was going— i am going through a lot!"

"i get that, ellie. i do." you argue. "but you can't ruin yourself like this! joel wouldn't want this from you and neither do i. you aren't thinking!"

her fists clench at her sides, voice lowering. "don't bring joel into this. he has nothing to do with it."

"he has everything to do with it!" you shout. sucking in a deep breath, you pinch the bridge of your nose in exhaustion. when you continue, your voice has dropped back down to a calmer tone, something you've learned to do during those on-and-off months with ellie. yelling at her only makes her grow more defensive and elongates her next expedition. "he's dead, ellie. he's gone and you're struggling with that. and that's okay. but turn to your friends for comfort. turn to people who love you, not drugs. they don't help you, els."

"turn to my friends? turn to people who love me?" she shakes her head, scoffing incredulously. "i tried that. i turned to you, i leaned on you. i tried and tried and tried and you left me."

"i didn't—"

"you left me when i was at my lowest. what else was i supposed to do?" she says, bottom lip quivering. you can't tell if it's from rage or sadness. a few months ago, you'd be able to read her like a book. not anymore. "you did this to me."

oh. that did it. tears well in your eyes embarrassingly fast. ellie's expression falters for a second, just long enough for you to respond. "fuck you, ellie. if you want to act like an asshole, go ahead. but if you think i'll just sit idly by while you kill yourself, you're painfully fucking wrong."

NOVEMBER.

someone's knocking at your door. it's well past midnight and you're in the middle of brushing your teeth. you curse under your breath, spitting before rushing to the front door. they continue to bang on the wood. "i'm fucking coming, calm down!"

you swing the door open, the chilly air sweeping inside. your eyes take a second to adjust to the light before you recognize ellie's silhouette. your eyes widen as she staggers inside. she leans against you instinctively, hands bracing your shoulders as she trips over her own feet. you hold her around the waist, guiding her toward your couch. the one she'd picked out three years ago.

"didn't know.." her words trail off and you shush her, rolling her onto her side in case she needs to vomit. she continues to mutter incoherently as you pace the room, not knowing what to do.

"fucking hell, els." you breathe, watching as her blinking slows and her mouth begins to drool. the black of her pupils take up more space than her irises, worryingly so.

"e'ryone else 's asleep," she murmurs.

you come forward, casting her hair out of her face. "shh, don't speak, baby, you're fine. no need to explain, 'kay?"

"mmm," she hums, eyes fluttering, "m'kay."

you nod, pushing to your feet as you continue to think of what the fuck you're supposed to do. what did she even take to get this bad? who the hell is selling it to her? everyone in jackson knows that she just lost joel earlier this year. god, if you could get your hands on them..

she begins coughing, though it sounds closer to gagging than anything. your heart rushes in your chest, "fuck fuck fuck."

without thinking, you grab your phone from your wall and dial tommy's number. it rings thrice before his voice comes through the line. he barely has time to ask who you are before you're explaining everything between sobs.

tommy, maria, and a few medics arrive within ten minutes. they haul ellie away on a stretcher, speaking too fast for you to pick up on anything. you stand in your living room as tommy follows them out. maria walks over to you as you're rubbing harshly at your eyes.

"you did the right thing, kid." she assures you, voice so soft that it only makes you cry harder. she frowns, humming sadly as she pulls you into a hug. "i know it's hard. grief always is."

you pull back, looking at her through teary eyes, "how'd you handle tommy? after joel passed."

"i hardly did." she admits. "we're not on the best terms, even now. that's just was loss does to people. it drives them apart until there's nothing left to drive apart."

"i don't..." you frown. "i don't think ellie and i have anything left."

APRIL.

you haven't spoken to ellie since november. after she awoke in a medical cot, she was more sober than she's been in months. her withdrawals were horrid, tommy said. he kept you in the loop with everything because ellie refused to see you, claiming to loathe you for having called tommy.

you can't lie, your heart definitely broke when you heard that. to imagine ellie from last year, kissing you awake with breakfast in bed, and comparing her to the ellie from now, claiming to never want to see your face again? the thought makes you feen genuinely ill.

snow sticks to the ground as you walk through the town of jackson. you're on your way to the grocery store when you see her. well, them. dina walks beside ellie as they saunter down the sidewalk, hands clasped together. she has that look on her face, the one she used to only ever give you. the one nobody else was lucky enough to see.

you huff breath, turning to look in the other direction as you pretend to not have even seen them together.

ellie seems to be getting better. and that's all that matters.

her eyes are bright, her nose is red from the cold. you can see her freckles from here, and you know the exact amount that coat her cheeks. you've counted them, memorized them as her fingertips traced your skin. as her viridescent gaze bore into your own with nothing but the same love she's currently looking at dina with.

you quicken your footsteps, forcing yourself to walk faster before you act on the biting pain in your stomach. the tangible agony that writhes within you.

FEBRUARY.

jj. that's his name.

no, you didn't stalk your ex girlfriend surrogate. you're not that crazy. maria actually came to you, explained that dina had a child and was raising him alongside ellie. she showed you a picture of them, a perfect family of three.

you instantly broke down into tears the moment you saw his gummy smile and fatty fists. dina held him tightly, having the same eyes as he. ellie had an arm draped over her, one hand on jj's shoulder as she beamed at the camera.

ellie is a mom. she has a baby. she has a baby boy who never would have gotten the chance to know her if she'd died that november night two years ago. and yet, she still refuses to speak to you. not a word has been uttered since that night. since she was dying on your couch from an overdose.

but it doesn't matter. who ellie is with and what ellie is doing doesn't matter at all. she's happy and that's all that matters.

you're perfectly content with watching her from afar with wax wings that are sure to burn under her brilliance. you'd tried it once and only ended in scorched flesh and the corpse of letting go.

⊹ ࣪ ˖𐙚 perm. taglist @luvsturniolo.     @ilovewomenfr.     @zzombiegirl.     @elliessweetheart.     @shawangel.  @defnoteleonor.     @fatbootymuncher.     @autisticintr0vert. 

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[lanadeldixon]

Summertime Sadness

Pairing- Daryl x fem reader (some Rosita x reader if you squint)

Word count- 1.1k

Warnings- angst, implied panic attack, mentions of death, someone being beaten, starved Daryl :(

Setting- s7 Alexandria

Summary- The saviours come to collect their 50%, but when you see the condition Daryl is in it’s hard to cope.

“Oh my God,” I whispered “Daryl?” His name a symphony of worry on my lips. A name I used to say with such love now drained of its positivity and filled with fear instead.

Vulnerability shone through his eyes as he turned to me, “Y/N?”

As soon as my name fell from his lips, the end of a gun struck him straight in the jaw, the loud thud of his body hitting the ground echoed through the town.

My breath hitched and a tear rolled down my cheek as they hit him again, yelling at him, “SPEAK WHEN YOU’RE SPOKEN TOO!”

“Leave him alone,” my voice choked up to the point where it came out in only a whisper.

“Let him go,” I cried louder this time, desperate to draw them away.

Hands wrapped around my mouth, too quick for me to react, my screams came out as muffled cries as I attempted to call for help.

But it was no use, I was dragged backwards into my house,

“Shh, you have to calm down, okay?” I immediately un-tensed at the sound of her voice.

“You gotta be tough, you do shit like that you’ll get all of us killed.” Rosita exclaimed sternly.

Her hands released me and she circled me until we were eye to eye.

“You’re not gonna be doing us any favours getting yourself killed,” it was clear to see she was still in grief, she was mourning a man she’d killed off in her mind a long time ago, only now he was truly gone and it was still sinking in.

She had become colder, no one could blame her, however all of us were too busy drowning in our own insurmountable grief and missing loved ones to pay attention to anything else.

I nodded at her like a school kid following her teachers orders then opened my mouth preparing to respond.

“Bam!” The door swung open.

“We said 50% didn’t we?!” His voice shook us to the core.

Whispers of the dead conquered my thoughts as I turned to look at him.

“Woah ho ho well you must be the girl?!”

Negan exclaimed following it with a slight laugh.

“Well you sure are a pretty thing ain’t ya!” His hand reached to my face as he said it, I stared him down, not daring to move but still not hiding my resentment.

“If I weren’t such a fan of your boy Daryl I think I’d have to make you one of my wives,” a sinister grin took over his face as my mine began to pale.

He leaned close to my ear, to the point where I could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke, “Hell, im the boss, I could just do it anyway…”

I tried to hold back my anger, to not say anything out of fear of what he might do. But the idea of having to marry him sickened and overwhelmed me, “fuck you,” I snarled, eyes finally meeting his.

“You got some massive lady balls and I gotta say, I dig that.” He stated, pulling his face away.

“I’m so tempted to bring you home darling.” He finished, deep down I knew he was just teasing but the thought revolted me.

“I would never be the wife of someone like you,” I responded, my face scrunching up.

He looked at me still with that daring smile.

At that point I couldn’t taken it anymore, my rage boiled until finally, it spilled, I looked at him and let out a large wad of spit aiming it right at his leg.

“Go to hell,” I stated, storms in my eyes.

His face finally faltered as he stared at the stain on his trousers.

“Ho ho ho, you bitch,” he said grabbing the back of my hair and yanking me outside of the house.

“How about we put on a little show, huh darling” he purred in my ear.

I felt ill as he forced me to my knees and began to gesture with Lucille.

“Now I was gonna be nice today but it seems some of you still need an example of how to behave.” Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned as he spoke.

I didn’t cry, I was very careful to heed Rosita’s advice and made sure I didn’t once show my fear, Daryl however did not do the same…

“Y/N!” He screamed as if I was already dead.

“DONT TOUCH HER,” he cried with rage, “I’LL KILL YA!”

“Bring him,” calmly, he gestured to the woman on his right as he spoke.

She dragged him so he was diagonal to me, she then kept her hands on his face, forcing him to keep his eyes on me.

Now I knew to be scared but all I could think was how tired he looked, behind the rage and upset was masked malnutrition and exhaustion. I couldn’t help but worry.

“We’re gonna break up another couple tonight,” he laughed aiming and fake swinging his bat at me.

I grimaced at his statement recalling the story of what happened to Glenn and Abraham and the devastation Maggie and Sasha were left with.

“I’m sorry, you would’ve been a real treat to come home too but looks like you’re gonna end up another lost treasure.”

“Last chance to say goodbye lover boy,” Negan warned.

Daryl was screaming profanities at him, doing everything he could to divert Lucille’s attention to him instead but to my relief, his attempts failed…

That was when the countdown started…

“10…” my breathing quickened.

“9…” I could see Daryl’s mouth moving, his whole body scrambling beneath the saviours holding him back, but all I could hear was Negans voice.

“8…” “just continue to do this when you’re scared okay baby?” I could hear my mums voice infiltrating my thoughts, guiding me to breathe.

“7…” I can see the flowers, they look so pretty, especially now that the lilies have grown, my mother didn’t like lilies, she always loved roses.

“6…” I can see the sun, it shines so brightly today, beaming down its light onto all of us, I think of Daryl’s nickname for me.

“5…” I can see my friends, I love my friends. Part of me wishes I could see Maggie again, the other doesn’t want her to see this.

“4…” I can see the sky, it looks painted today, the way the clouds are floating looks ethereal.

“3…” I can see Daryl. My Daryl, I smile.

“2…” I can see the bat, it blocks the sun as it’s lifted high into the sky.

“1…” I can see Glenn and Abraham, I didn’t think I’d see them so soon but I’m happy-

“I’LL JOIN YA!” Silence overcame the crowd as Daryl pleaded.

“Just let her go, that’s all I ask” his voice quaked, there was a frantic look of desperation in his eyes.

Silence…

Negan chuckled before his face turned stern.

“Who are you?” He commanded in a teasing tone.

“I am Negan…”

[entamewitchlulu]

I wasn't initially going to say anything, but i. honestly, i really just, could use some emotional support, i guess.

there's an awful lot going on in my life right now that's making me pretty miserable. to top it off, I recently got news from my dad that our dog, Indiana's health has gotten a pretty bad prognosis. the long story short is, he could possibly have cancer, and while there's surgery that could help, he's 15 years old, and even the prep exam for the surgery could be fatal for him. so it's unlikely that we'll end up going through with it, and a really hard decision has to be made about whether to let him go now while things are still mostly okay, or wait until things deteriorate.

I moved away from home for the first time just six months ago, and one of the things I was most upset about was leaving my dog behind, knowing he was getting old. I live an hour and a half away from home now, and I have been able to go home to visit just once in that time. I've seen him only once in the last six months.

Indiana is everything to me. I know he can't be with us forever, but the pain of not being able to be there during the last months of his life is destroying me. I have no idea what things are going to look like, if we'll have another year or two with him being in the world, or if I'm looking at a world where he isn't there anymore as soon as the next few weeks. I'm working 40 hours a week and I have a cat to think about now, so I can't just drop everything and go home to be near him for a while as much as I want to.

I'm not asking for anything in this post like surgery money or anything. Just......support, I guess. Living alone means there's no one to give me a hug most days, and I'm coping badly with it all. It's just another piece of bad news that's breaking me, and all I want is to feel a little less alone in facing it.

I just want people to know how much I love him. He is the sweetest, kindest, most loving dog I've ever known. He was found in a junkyard living in a truck and when we adopted him he didn't even have a name, just a number which was the date he was taken in by the shelter. He has a tiny little tail that wiggles like crazy when he's happy. He loves sitting in the car, not even to go anywhere, just to hang out. He's a huge fan of cheese and memorized the sound of a cheese stick opening so that he could get a small bite of mine whenever I had one. He's so good at "shake" that when you have a treat for him, he will paw the air wildly with one paw and then the other to show you just how good he is at doing it and how much he deserves his treat. Sometimes he gets the zoomies so insanely that he has to bolt all around the yard, in and out the door so fast that you'd think he was a cheetah in another life. He can turn on a dime. He's scared of fireworks and loud sounds because we made the mistake of taking him with us to a historical reenactment once and all the muskets and cannons scared him. He learned how to pull a cart once but we never kept up with it. He knows the word "rabbit" and loves to chase them around but never catches them. When he's happy to see you he'll press his whole head into your knees and lean so much that he almost knocks you over. He likes to press his whole body against you. When he lays down he sometimes splays his paws out to either side like a seal. His favorite toy is his stuffed rabbit and he cuddles with it all by himself.

I love him, so, so, so, so much. I can't be with him right now and it's killing me. I'm grieving him before he's even gone because I can't comprehend a world where he isn't in it and I don't know how else to prepare myself.

I don't know how to end this. He's still with us right now, but I don't know for how much longer. Please hug your pets for me tonight. Hold them close and remind them how much you love them. We don't get to have them in our lives forever as unfair as it is. I only wish it could be a little longer.

[maditalksmusic]

"WE'RE BIKINI KILL AND WE WANT REVOLUTION!"

is the opening statement of feminist punk band Bikini Kill’s song “Double Dare Ya”, one of their most famous songs challenging girls to always be unabashedly themselves. It’s a line that resonates through every song they’ve ever put out and every show they’ve performed.

Last Sunday, after finishing a horrible calculus assignment, I needed to find something to do with myself before I lashed out at anyone who crossed my path, some sort of way to diffuse my anger at the stupidity of simplifying 42 useless radical inequalities and difference quotients. I saw an Instagram ad for a Bikini Kill show at the Brooklyn Paramount in three hours. I texted every one of my new, cool college Instagram mutuals who I’d maybe met once who I thought may be a fellow Riot Grrrl fan, but nobody could go. I knew going alone was risky, but the ticket was $30. It was too good of a deal to pass up. I went back to my apartment, changed into my plaid skirt and Docs, threw my hair into the coolest claw clip style I could pull off in 5 minutes, and got on the next train to New York City. 

An hour and a half, one face-plant in Penn Station, an out of service Subway line, and a sprint through Manhattan in platforms to the next stop of the D train later, I made it to the venue. It was only 30 minutes before the opener, Sweeping Promises, came on, and I assumed there would be a line out the door. When I just walked right through security without waiting for a single second, I was shocked. I figured I would be squeezing into the middle of that standing-room-only space like a canned sardine, but I waltzed right up to the barricade. Watching people fill in behind me was fascinating. I was under the impression I’d be one of the youngest people there, until I started seeing waves of 13-16 year old girls coming in buzzing with excitement, followed closely by their fathers in vintage punk merch who probably played basement shows every weekend in their late teens and early twenties. 

Kathi Wilcox on bass guitar during "Alien She", shot by me

I started listening to Bikini Kill when I was 13. They were one of the first bands that played “real music” (essentially anything that isn’t top 40 radio pop) that I started listening to. Hearing Kathleen Hanna singing, or more accurately melodically screaming, these songs about everything from feminism to political activism to standing up to sexual harassment over a gorgeously aggressive drum beat from Tobi Vail while Kathi Wilcox shreds on bass, made something in my brain click into place. Suddenly I realized that even at my age, I could be aware of what was going on in the world, and I could start to challenge these issues, even if it was only on a personal scale. Hearing “Double Dare Ya” live, standing five feet from the stage, hearing every girl in the room singing along, feeling the physical energy radiating from all of those people who felt the same, while making eye contact with Kathleen Hanna was possibly the most impactful moment of my life thus far. It’s easy to forget how important it is to let your frustrations out not only by yourself, but in a public space sometimes. In May, Hanna spoke with NPR on the subject. It’s healthy to cope with emotions on your own, but the experience of letting it all out with other people who are right there with you is unparalleled. This public release of anger is one of the things Bikini Kill prioritizes, and it’s highly evident in the electric energy of their shows. 

Throughout the show, the band took moments to reflect on their history, and to appreciate each other, their friends, their inspirations, the people who have supported them, and their fan base. Hanna told stories that have inspired songs and albums, from her experience trying to join church choir as a young girl to the realities of experiencing assault and harassment on the basis of sex to the ways that losing friends too soon has affected her. A moment that particularly stood out was when she spoke on her late friend Mikey, who both she and Tobi Vail had known since they were teenagers. They fondly reminisced on the times they had together, and the shenanigans Mikey often enjoyed causing. Hanna then produced a neon pink fanny pack, and revealed that when Mikey passed five years ago, his mother gave her some of his ashes. This fanny pack goes to every show that Bikini Kill plays and as it turns out, is the vessel for Mikey’s remains. At first, this seemed rather morbid, and was clearly disturbing to some people in the crowd. There were gasps and nervous, shocked laughs around the room. But as Hanna explained why it was that fanny pack, it turned into a heartwarming moment, realizing that this way of honoring Mikey’s legacy, bringing his ashes on tour and keeping him with them not only in spirit but physically, is exactly what would have brought him happiness. This is highly reflective of Bikini Kill’s philosophy as a band and serves as a reminder for why they continue to do what they do. 

Over 30 years since their inception, Bikini Kill has stayed entirely true to their origins. Their sound and the messages they seek to convey haven’t changed since the 90s. Some might claim this is a sort of resistance to change, or a marker of being “behind the times”, but judging by the number of people under the age of 20 at that show, it couldn’t be further from the truth. This July, they made their television debut with a performance of “Rebel Girl”, one of their first songs, on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert. 

Authenticity is the defining characteristic of Bikini Kill. It’s their unbridled authenticity that makes it so powerful for them to play a song written in 1993 as their first televised performance 31 years later, because their style and their messages still ring true. It’s that authenticity that makes the environment of their shows so incredible. As an eighteen year old girl who was alone in New York, I had never felt safer than I did in that ~2500 person crowd. Bikini Kill continues to use their music to create spaces where women, queer people, or anyone else who goes against the status quo can come and be themself with utmost support. This is a band that has always catered to the youth with their punk-rock anthems of rebellion and empowerment, and in today’s political climate with reproductive rights and LGBTQ+ issues being at the top of the ballot, that’s more important than ever. They embody the true punk spirit, entirely unafraid to stand up for themselves and what they believe in, without regard to whether or not it’s deemed “socially acceptable”. Concerts like this are the reminders that all of us need to be the “rebel girl” in our community that refuses to be a bystander to social ills, remains honest to a fault, and is uncompromising in her values. These cathartic spaces are a necessity for everyone, and Bikini Kill’s commitment to ensuring their continued existence and the importance of expressing your anger is what fuels their ongoing success and solidifies their place in music history.

[barcaluvv]

𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ˢᵉᶜᵒⁿᵈ ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳ! 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍 I woke up the next morning, a little later than usual. Sunbeams peeking through my cheeks who were still blushing from yesterday's situation, it seemed like they can't forget about the one who made them like this.This morning felt strange, there was no noise to be heard, Hector wasn't shouting around the house anymore, everything felt like a new start for me. To be honest I don't know what emotion is running up against my will right now, am I in love or am just dreaming? It fits more to be one, a dream, like according to what people who once were in love said "We are dreaming of those we don't have". If you told me exactly a week before everything happened that I'm awfully relating to this I wouldn't believe. I'm feeling scared and mostly concerned about Hector, we haven't talked since yesterday it's been a while really. Speaking of Hector, why didn't he wake me up to take him to his training? Maybe he didn't like yesterday's situation? What is he facing inside that dressing room? Are they having a tough time in there? Those scandals can take big influence on the team and their profit. I looked myself in the bathroom mirror while a few tears shed down my face trying to think of a valid solution that's not including staying in and hiding from the world. IIn addition to all these thoughts, I was mostly focused on the only thing and that i was wondering about whether the number 6 is doing okay, how is he coping with all of this.

After a while Hector came home, taking slow steps towards me and then fastening his walk taking a turn to his room, still not saying a word to each other. The next thing i heard was the gurgling of my bowels, I realised I didn't eat so I made us both dinner, I knocked on his door feeling numb all of a sudden.

I felt like the house was spinning but everything remained calm.

He didn't end up opening his room door, instead he texted "Tengo partido mañana, tienes que venir, alguien te necesita" which he invited me to watch him and his team mates play. The last part of the sentence sounded like someone out there needed me. The next day happened pretty quickly, it was the same but with intense more stage fright because of the game. The questions about number 6 were going through my mind obviously I was worried. When we got there, a lot of fans started to bang on the tinted glass window, sending me death treats, saying something like that I don't deserve him, I ruined his career...etc

those words pierced my soul, my voice became wobbly and I remained silent once again the world won. After a while they went somewhere else and I managed to get out of the car without getting hurt I mean physically, mentally I'm already pretty much hurt.

On my way to the gate I was hurrying, i didnt look where i go just suddenly my face gets on someone's chest, his scent was incredibly good, and while looking up, I see no one but the brown haired boy, Pablo I said to myself.And this is the moment when I experienced falling in love for the second time each again for the same person. We both smiled and I immediately apologised for ruining his shirt since all of my makeup was pressed against him. he didn't even have time to address me, a bunch of fans with ogeom signs were running towards us. He didn't even wait a bit, he pulled my hand and we ran for a while of course from them, when they finally lost sight of us, we found ourselves behind a small blunt bush that was nearby. I was breathing very loudly, skipping a heartbeat, the next thing I remember is our lips pressed together, at that moment I felt our sparks blooming. He slowly pulled out looking right into my eyes and saying "I'm going in again so don't be surprised when I do this" he pulled in and I can say there was intimacy in hesitance, hovering hands above my cheeks prodding the statement I let out a single nod. That so many bothered to say. A gentle brush of two lips, feeling a butterfly explosion right pressed onto my stomach, and delicate trembling of my fingertips, followed by the overwhelming, immediate relief from the heavy brick I had on my heart, it became pure. Perhaps not the first kiss but the first kiss I wanted. All of my worries disappeared as soon as our hands touched, despite his hands being cold from the wind also going through my hair i felt safe after a long while of not being. We turned back in silence and reached the stadium again, where the game was supposed to start in a few minutes. Me and Hector were still not talking, but I let a smile to him out wishing him a good luck. I still haven't seen number 6 for 20 minutes now and were already 10 minutes into the match. Not losing any hope, broad shoulders finally entered the field. The smile on my face widened, but the fear in my stomach has deept, and as always my expectations are coming to life. The next thing I saw was Pablo on the field laying in pain, holding back his screams while his arm Is pressed on his mouth, as the noises were trying to escape he didn't let them win, my heart began to ache, not like the ache you feel between your eyes or the ache in a tooth when u have cavity, my heart aches likes there's one million people tearing at its most tender places, I started to panic, then I sinked seeing first aid as they carry him from the field. without any hesitation i rushed towards him, pushing thousands of people to get through. Please Pablo say something, are you okay!?

It's going to be fine okay!! I kept saying that. I pressed myself against him and I held him in my arms tightly never planning of letting go "am I hurting you Pablo" I asked with a shaky drabbled voice.

Only if you stopped said the brown haired boy while holding my hand in disgrace.

I glanced at the game and noticed Hector and the other Barcelona players looking carefully at the cart, they clearly couldn't focus on the match. I saw Pablo glancing at them too back an forth. Minutes after his team mate and also one of my Friends Ferran scores and dedicates the goal to Gavi, pablo saw all this because the cart was facing the field, he slightly sends out a beautiful smile , full of spark and longing.

Three weeks passed by, I haven't heard of Gavi since he got injured, but somewhere on the news I read that he is back on the field. Plus me and Hector are still on weird conversations. My main questions are, is he doing okay, and when will I see him again. Wondering when will our eyes meet and create a magnificent bond that can't be expressed through words. I still replay our kiss in my head, over and over again, making it seem like a movie with no ending, the movie that you recommend everyone to go search for it. But that's really not the only thing that I should be worrying about I literally have an event, slightly bigger one though so I have to carry on with the look. Later that day, I sat by the closet, constantly looking for that one dress, I was about to give up but suddenly something sparkly chatched my eye, if it is what I think it is then yeah I found it. After hours of trying, I  finally found it! The dress was long with refined zircons around the neckline, in simple words it looked like it came out of a fairy tale, she had long sleeves and a set of gloves of the same color and material. I'm so excited to wear it! Naive me thinking nothing can possibly go wrong until... That day came, I entered the event with a straight head and a confident walk, I walked on the red carpet without looking from the side until, meanwhile, the cameras started rolling and the person I most wanted to see appeared at the door of the event. Pablo, it's him. It was the same thing that the cameramen repeated after every step he took, man he looked powerful. After some time spent, a journalist started questioning me about my and Gavi's so-called relationship, I kept silent while my heart wanted to explode, it had so much words to say but didn't.

Basically he ignored me the whole time, he didn't dare even to look at me. What a jerk, said this to comfort myself.

The Pain, I never expressed it potentially, I never screamed and jumped about it, never bawled and wept but the pain I felt was still. My heart was aching but never too loud, no one ever heard, I didn't allow anyone to, it itched and felt numb inside of me but in reality, it never went away. His smile was permanently plastered inside of my mind, the moment, too short but never enough to go out. But now it's 2:45 am, instead of sleeping I'm trying to find the words to explain how my world looks without you in it. Pablo, its like i became allergic to that name,or was I just tired of missing it? 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐄𝐃...

[definitionsfading]

bite-sized bullet train fic master list (lemon/tangerine) 🍋🍊✨

as this fan space gets older and more disjointed as the months pass by I figured I’d keep all my lemon/tangerine titles in one place for future reference. there are only four of them! but I’m proud of what small diversity they brought to this fandom, so here they are (each title is a hyperlink)

pretty bubbles in the air || 24K || Explicit

And then Lemon's mind is somewhere outside the imaginary hospital morgue, lost among the train wreckage, knowing he has to go back and knowing that he can’t because it’ll be swarmed with the feds by now, or whatever the Japanese equivalent of the fucking feds is, and if he wanted to claim the body he should’ve already—

A door to his left opens abruptly, letting the sound of steadily beeping monitors out into the hall, and the nurse emerging with a machine on wheels nearly runs into him head-on.

Lemon curses under his breath and falters as they avoid collision, and it’s only in the split few seconds the nurse fumbles there in the doorway that he looks up, with a crystalline line of uninterrupted sight straight into the occupied ICU room, and sees a lank shock of chin-length, light brown hair resting against a white pillow.

Thomas taught him a lot, yeah, but nothing much about how to keep your world from shrinking down to the size of a pinhead and shattering into a million pieces in a moment like this one.

notes: post-canon, Tangerine Lives, fix-it fic, whump, healing, hurt/comfort, trauma & coping, rekindled romance, not a siblings fic

under your skin || 4.2K || Explicit 

This is the silent secret, Lemon thinks, that nobody but the two of them know when people in the industry call them The Twins. This is what he’s willing to kill for and would’ve died for again and again. It’s something that runs deeper than the surface layer, this thing he and Tangerine have got—a kind of truth that anchors itself and settles like a sharpened barb under your skin.

notes: post-canon, Tangerine Lives, injury recovery, first time (in a long time), emotional sex, crying, not a siblings fic

citrus and blood || 2K || Mature

The unspoken truth that he’s too weak to bathe himself properly stands in the room between them like a third silent body. Tangerine almost wishes his vocal cords were truly thrashed and ruined so he wouldn’t have to acknowledge it aloud, wouldn’t have to admit defeat before the battle ever began.

He’s sitting beside the tub, awkwardly wedged between the toilet and the wall, head lolled off to rest on a towel folded under his cheek there on the edge of the bath. Breaths come shallowly, almost in haggard pants from the mix of nausea and exhaustion. Everything still smells like hospital antiseptic, blood, and electrical fire. It’s been three days since the train went off-rail—at least according to Lemon’s dodgy appraisal of time—and Tangerine still can’t burn the scent of near-death out of his nose.

notes: post-canon, Tangerine Lives, injury recovery, bathing/washing, caretaking, blood, emotions, ample tenderness, Gentle Lemon, not a siblings fic

right hand man || 3.2K || Explicit 

“How ‘bout instead of plotting premeditated murder off the clock, why don’t you think of something creative to do with that emancipated right hand of yours,” Lemon says, tucking back into his plate. “Take a pottery class, learn to watercolour. You wanna point and shoot so bad? I’ll buy you a camera.”

“I’m gonna point and shoot on your smart arse when we get home,” Tangerine says darkly from the corner of his mouth, eyes cutting across Lemon at a bawdy angle. “Mark my words on that one.”

notes: post-canon, the Twins return to London, smut, banter, frottage, hand jobs, Lemon gets a massage and a few other things, not a siblings fic

[thebeatles-world]

Hi I love all your imagines and stories so much! Do you think you could possibly do a sequel or something to Picture Perfect? Hope you get better soon!!

Thank you! And yes! Here’s to all who have been waiting patiently for part 2!! I’m so sorry if this sucks, I’m having a bit trouble in my relationship lately but writing for you guys helps me cope with it ❤️

Perfect Picture: Part 2

You and Ringo have been going out for a while now. Even though you and Ringo (aka your new man) have tried to keep it private… somehow the paparazzi always found out and took snapshots of you guys walking down the street or when you and Ringo hopped into a taxi.

According to the press, Elvis gave his honest thoughts of what he thought about The Beatles.

A while back Elvis was honestly worried about The Beatles being more popular than him and he ended up being right. The Beatles were getting more popular than him. They even sold more records than he ever did. Elvis considered The Beatles a threat to his own popularity.

Now that The Beatles were stealing his popularity, it made it worse when one of the members from The Beatles dated the love of his life which was Y/N L/N…

Elvis was not happy about it. He felt like The Beatles were stealing everything that he had.

You have recently started your own cookbook since you were a big fan of cooking and eating. Food was your passion.

Not that long ago, Grace started her own cookbook as well. You didn’t think too much of it.

Then you wrote a biography of your life and of course you added Ringo Starr in it since he was your boyfriend. You wrote a whole chapter of how you guys met, how much you loved him, how he helped you heal from the breakup with you and Elvis, how sweet The Beatles were when you first met them and how much Ringo made you happy.

Ringo was there by your side while you wrote it. He was actually really supportive of your book.

Later that week, your book got so many sold copies that your book was the number one hit in the U.S and in other countries.

Not that long after your book was a huge hit, Grace started her own ‘’bio’’ book as well but it wasn’t a huge hit like yours. It was noticeable that she was copying you and the fans noticed it too as well as the press.

If you wore a white dress out in public, the next day Grace would wear one too. If you had your hair curly, Grace would have hers done too the next day.

It was like as she was trying to keep up with you through magazines, the public eye, interviews, live conferences on T.V

You did get a little annoyed with her but you were really nice not to say anything about it in the public eye. Instead you went on with your day and spended a lot of time with Ringo.

A few months later, you and Ringo went to the next step of your relationship. You guys moved in together to a big mansion together. You two were really excited to move in together.

Honestly when you came into Ringo’s life, you made a huge influence on him. He was so happy with you and he couldn’t stop talking about you in interviews and he always blushed when his bandmates teased him about you two.

One night a week after you and Ringo moved in together, he decided to pick up a nice dinner meal for you and him on his way home from the studio. You couldn’t wait to hear about the new album that Ringo and his bandmates were working on.

You sat on the couch and read a book while you waited for Ringo to come home.

Suddenly you heard the doorbell rang.

‘’That’s weird… We don’t expect any company.’’ You said to yourself in confusion.

You closed your book and headed to the front door.

‘’Um… who is it?’’ You said as you opened the door.

You didn’t expect to see your ex-boyfriend Elvis standing there at your front door, at your new place holding your favorite flowers in his hands.

‘’Elvis? What are you doing here? What are you doing at my new place?’’ You exclaimed.

‘’Y/N I just wanna say I’m sorry for everything… I should have never taken you for granted. I’m so sorry baby. Why did I treat you badly? I’m such a fool. Please give me a second chance. I know I haven’t been the best. I know I hurt you badly. I have been walking in a trance since we broke up. ‘’ Elvis’s voice cracked.

‘’Oh Elvis. I can’t. I’m with Ringo. He makes me happy. I love him so much.’’ You started to say but you looked at Elvis who seemed to have a sad look on his face as you explained to him how much you loved Ringo.

‘’But I won’t forget about all the memories we had together, we had wonderful memories together. You may have been my first love and I will never forget that. You will always be in my heart no matter what Elvis.’’ You softly patted his shoulder.

‘’Besides you have Grace don’t you? She makes you happy right? You should be giving her those flowers instead of me.’’ You told him.

‘’Grace is just… too…’’ Elvis began and then stopped.

‘’You know Y/N, you're right. I should move on. But just always know that I will always love you.’’ Elvis said to you.

You looked into his sad blue eyes and nodded sadly.

‘’That’s right Elvis. You will always mean a lot to me as a person. Good luck in life.’’ You smiled sadly.

Even though you loved Ringo with all your heart, Elvis will always hold a special place in your heart and it still tug on your heart just seeing Elvis again. Especially talking to him about how he will always mean a lot to you.

‘’Thank you Y/N.’’ Elvis said and before you knew it, he placed his lips against yours.

‘’I’ll see you… one day… maybe never again.’’ He said as he walked away.

You were too stunning to speak. You couldn’t believe that Elvis kissed you. You didn’t have time to react or to even slap him for doing that. It just happened so fast that you felt like everything around you was spinning.

Oh no… What if Ringo finds out…? You thought.

*** if this gets enough likes or comments, I’ll post part 3 of the series***

[ladyseidr]

it's miserably hot so i Just Got Here but uh ke.l notes on my portrayal dump or whatever ( will contain spoilers! i was going to try to keep it mild but it, like, one hc in i realized it wasn't possible )

i do Not vibe with the idea that ke.l is the simplest character / least developed because what are we forgetting "they ignored me, hehe. . ." OR aub.rey's "i didn't realize people deal with grief in different ways" ????????

he's not a "himbo" he has ADHD and is trying his best ( and also his hea.dspace-self is literally 12 like damn give him a break fkdshflsadj )

"there are no signs that he's bothered by his brother being the golden child" we did not play the same game, but yeah no like he loves hero soooooo much but there's no way i'm looking past the whole "they ignored me" thing on top of the way he avoids his house / mother like the plague at parts. like, yes, i actually think his parents love him but his mother is fr so much like mine ( not the golden child part, everything else ) so i know what i'm talking abt kfhdsafhdslh. parents can be loving but also extremely judgmental ( or worse ), those are sadly not contradictions in my experience

i'm obv a good / true ending person, and for the record: yes he forgives sun.ny. it takes a while to fully work through it all, but he's verbally forgives him like. definitely quicker than everyone else

big big big big "i'm always there for everyone but no one's ever there for me" vibes, like i think sun.ny might be the exception, but i do think most ppl who know ke.l see his sometimes-forced confidence / happiness and silliness and just think he's fine

okay so this is probably projecting but the whole "oh he supposedly moved on really fast and started doing all these sports and making a ton of friends etc etc" thing does not read like him just "getting over it," it reads like how i cope with grief: by not coping with it. don't get me wrong, distracting yourself can sometimes be a healthy part of grief but in my case, i wouldn't let myself feel it at all and like. especially with hero suffering????? i really feel like ke.l bottled it up and tried to be strong for his brother and at some point he did or will crack

i am a big fan of ke.l visiting mar.i's grave super often hc tho

in the same vein as like, everything above, his whole "i thought i would just mess it up / make everything worse" ( i am not looking up exact quotes, bear with me ) is so. . . like i think he's literally a little fucked up from not being able to read the room / read social cues well when he was younger ( which, like, literally canonical ). like he was literally scared to reach out to his grieving friends, presumably even before the argument with hero??? all because he might make it worse????? kill me

okay okay okay okay on a lighter note: so bisexual and yes i'm gonna be honest i stand by my Has A Crush On Su.nny headcanon. i didn't choose this life, my gay ass brain chose it for me

( on that note i do still find ke.l/aubr.ey/su.nny/bas.il extremely funny. collects almost the entire friend group and hero is just like "why???????????" )

he's so extroverted i mean this is canon ( "while you were working i sat on a bench and talked to strangers!" ) but it Has to be noted. everybody is a potential friend to him. where's that one post that's like "i'm not here to make friends (big dumb smile) i'm here to make BEST friends"

loyal to a fault, protective to a fault, and full of bad ideas ( affectionate )

so touchy, physical affection is so his thing. yes this is also canon but he's a big hugger for sure

bringing up the ADHD thing again because it's so real, i was replaying the junkyard part and the whole "what were we looking for again" followed by "were we looking for something? :)" like 10 minutes later is SO funny, he's just like me for real

he saved sun.ny's life. like we do acknowledge that right. you can only get bad endings if you don't open the door to ke.l. opening the door and letting ke.l finally reconnect with sun.ny after trying so long is the only path to a good ending. sobs into my hands.

anyway

[flightfoot]

I've read several of the fics on ladybeug's list, and everything on bittersweetresilience's list, and yeah I can vouch that these are good. I've got my own rec lists that I'm gonna publish at the end of the year, but there are a few I think I'll list right now.

If you like Adrino, then @bbutterflies fics are great to check out! My favorite so far has to be "The moment I knew (I had no choice but to love you)". It's a classic fake-dating/pining scenario, where Nino fake-dates Adrien in order to get his fangirls off of his back, not realizing that Adrien's had a crush on him for ages - or that his own feelings for Adrien may not be entirely platonic...

“He’s dating me,” Nino said, taking Adrien’s hand in his own. Adrien could only stare back at him in shock. “How dare you all force him to come out?” Nino continued, glaring at the reporters. “That was disgusting.” He pulled Adrien over to the car, guided him in, and shut the door behind them. In the relative quiet and privacy of the backseat, Adrien finally processed what had just happened. “So… when were you going to tell me we were dating?”

---

Love at Last Sight by ClaraOswald16 is an M-rated fic, though so far I think it's only M-rated because Marinette's seriously injured at the beginning of the fic after Gabriel knocks her off a building, leaving her with brain damage that causes her to go blind. I'd say it's fine for most teens, unless something happens later to make it deserve the M rating.

Anyway, most of the fic centers around helping Marinette adjust and cope with her new circumstances, and adjust to life as a blind person, training to figure out how to do things without sight. Adrien's not having a great time either though, with his father exposed as Monarch, and finding out that he's a Senti, so neither of them are doing totally well. They manage as best they can though.

The final battle against Monarch has arrived, but things do not go as planned for our favorite superheroes. The battle leaves Marinette blind. Marinette and Adrien must come to terms with their new realities, but finding a new normal turns out to be harder than expected. This is a story of love, loss, and finding strength in each other.

---

True Blue by @rosie-b is as fantastic as always, I adore a good enemies au, and finding one that is able to believably have MARINETTE be the one on Gabriel's side is rare, but man, does rosie manage it! I especially love how manipulative Gabriel is, how you can see how he arranges things, how he words things, the actions he takes to manipulate Marinette into doing what he wants, it's chilling.

Golden Bug and Chat Grise are the heroes of Paris, fighting to protect civilians from Hawk Moth and his akumas. Marinette is Gabriel Agreste’s young apprentice, training under the famous designer to become the next big name in fashion. But one day, Marinette finds an open safe with a beautiful peacock brooch in it... and suddenly, she’s not sure who the villain is anymore.

---

Between the Heavens and the Embers by @readersmoon is M-rated for a reason, so mind the tags. It's a chilling scenario, with everyone thinking Marinette was dead, and then later seeing her crop up, but not seeming to know any of them - and then the deeper Adrien, Alya, and Nino look, the darker things get.

I'd especially recommend this fic to fans of @wackus-bonkus-maximus's "one does not love breathing", it has some similar vibes and themes, though Marinette's the one who'd been thought dead and was in the enemy's clutches the whole time instead of Adrien.

Everyone in Paris remembers the fateful night of January 16, when the city was attacked by the most powerful and destructive akuma ever created. The assault, which lasted for hours, resulted in the death of 439 people. Marinette Dupain-Cheng was among the casualties. Years later, Adrien hasn't been able to move on, haunted by the memories of her broken body. So, when the opportunity to leave Paris for a while presents itself, he doesn't hesitate. But this trip might end up giving him more than he ever dreamt of.

do you have any fanfic recs?

YEAH i do!

And also can people put fanfic recs in the comments of this ask?? So we get even more recs. THANKS!

here's some of mine:

Metamorphosis by @peachcitt - Its been a couple years since they defeated hawkmoth, chat noir is gone. I read this earlier this year and it was SO good, just deliciously dramatic, and it destroyed me. but like in a fun way :)

Tell me something I don't know by @marimbles - it's marichat. do you want to have fun? don't lie to me, I know you do. this one is so funny and sweet

Final Girl by @picayunearts - AU where marinette turns down the ladybug role. this one got to me deeply. listen im unlikely to ever tattoo a quote on my body but if i DID im not saying it WOULDNT be from this fic.

As time goes by, by @redundant-lava - its like if casablanca was even MORE dramatic and romantic and also starred your blorbos.

Under Oath by @eoscenes - Gabriel is unmasked and everyone is dealing with the aftermath. This one takes some of the season 4 drama between ladybug and chat noir and gives it a real play-out, I read this one when it was half-finished and just loved it, I haven't caught up but it looks like its finished so i WILL be going back. join me :)

Happy Anniversary Surprises by @ming85 - short and so so so sweet!!

Double Entendre by speaks, I don't know their tumblr - no intro, just go check it out. man I just love this one, so fun and such a good reveal.

Sting by KryallaOrchid, I don't know their tumblr - Adrien loses the cat miraculous and gets ahold of the bee miraculous so he can keep helping - but ladybug is NOT having it with the new partner. an oldie and a romp!! lovesquare identity shenanigans galore. have some fun.

anything @buggachat has written is good, and i've loved so many of @coffeebananas works, so go browse both of those authors.

A bunch of others but i cant list them all so im leaving off here!! Tell your favs in the comments. whats good out there?

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

AFFC: Alayne II (Sansa III) [Chapter 41]

My little sweet tea! ❤️

I'm a Sansa fan, and even I find the length of this chapter alarming.

She turned the iron ring and pushed the door open, just a crack. "Sweetrobin?" she called. "May I enter?"

"Have a care, m'lady," warned old Gretchel, wringing her hands. "His lordship threw his chamber pot at the maester."

"Then he has none to throw at me. Isn't there some work you should be doing? And you, Maddy . . . are all the windows closed and shuttered? Have all the furnishings been covered?"

"All of them, m'lady," said Maddy.

"Best make certain of it."

Have you forgotten this is a 13-year-old kid?

Because the author would like you to.

+.+.+

"I heard my Sweetrobin was ailing." After his encounter with the chamber pot the maester had come running to Ser Lothor, and Brune had come to her.

His mother?

+.+.+

"No," he said, "but I'm not going. I want to stay in bed. You could read to me about the Winged Knight."

The Winged Knight was Ser Artys Arryn. Legend said that he had driven the First Men from the Vale and flown to the top of the Giant's Lance on a huge falcon to slay the Griffin King. There were a hundred tales of his adventures.

Dragonrider imagery featuring a dead Griffin King.

+.+.+

Alayne slipped into the darkened bedchamber. "It's only me, Sweetrobin."

Someone sniffled in the darkness. "Are you alone?"

x

"It is too dark in here for reading." The heavy curtains drawn across the windows made the bedchamber black as night. 

x

"Might I let some sun in?" "No. The light hurts my eyes. Come to bed, Alayne." "I shan't open them very wide. Only enough to see my Sweetrobin's face."

He sniffled. "If you must."

x

"I don't love her. She's just the mule girl." Robert sniffled. 

x

"I could do it," Lord Robert said, "but I don't choose to." He swiped at his runny nose with the back of his hand. 

Take note, they're in a dark bedchamber, and Robert keeps sniffling.

Robert Arryn has never sniffled in any Sansa chapter until now.

+.+.+

She sat on the bed and smoothed his long, fine hair. He does have pretty hair.

Sansa's got a kink.

Tenderly she reached out and brushed back his soft blond hair. - Sansa I, AGOT

+.+.+

Before she could summon the servants, however, Sweetrobin threw his skinny arms around her and kissed her. It was a little boy's kiss, and clumsy. Everything Robert Arryn did was clumsy. If I close my eyes I can pretend he is the Knight of Flowers. Ser Loras had given Sansa Stark a red rose once, but he had never kissed her . . . and no Tyrell would ever kiss Alayne Stone. Pretty as she was, she had been born on the wrong side of the blanket.

Sounds like we need another bastard.

For those keeping score, here's the people and things Sansa has been forced to kiss:

Ser Dontos.

Give your Florian a little kiss now. A kiss for luck. - Sansa IV, ACOK

Joffrey's sword.

"Bless my steel with a kiss." He extended the blade down to her. "Go on, kiss it." - Sansa V, ACOK

Sandor Clegane. (In her head. The reality of the situation was far worse.)

He kissed me and threatened to kill me, and made me sing him a song. - Sansa II, ASOS

Tyrion Lannister.

"With this kiss I pledge my love," the dwarf replied hoarsely, "and take you for my lady and wife." He leaned forward, and their lips touched briefly. - Sansa III, ASOS

Littlefinger.

Sansa tried to step back, but he pulled her into his arms and suddenly he was kissing her. - Sansa VII, ASOS

And Robert Arryn.

If you don't think this ongoing nightmare will be set right, I don't know what to tell you.

+.+.+

As the boy's lips touched her own she found herself thinking of another kiss. She could still remember how it felt, when his cruel mouth pressed down on her own. He had come to Sansa in the darkness as green fire filled the sky. He took a song and a kiss, and left me nothing but a bloody cloak.

It made no matter. That day was done, and so was Sansa.

That's not what he came for, but I'll let you cope.

+.+.+

Maddy and Gretchel might listen all they wished, but they would hear nothing. That was just as well. Gretchel could hold her tongue, but Maddy gossiped shamelessly.

x

Robert's squires had turned up as well. Terrance and Gyles could always sniff out trouble.

Lady Alayne knows her staff well.

+.+.+

"Lord Robert is feeling stronger," Alayne told the serving women. "Fetch hot water for his bath, but see you don't scald him. And do not pull on his hair when you brush out the tangles, he hates that." One of the squires sniggered, until she said, "Terrance, lay out his lordship's riding clothes and his warmest cloak. Gyles, you may clean up that broken chamber pot."

Yes, Your Grace.

+.+.+

"His fingers trembled a little bit when I held his hand, that's all. He says you put something vile in his milk."

"Vile?" Colemon blinked at her, and the apple in his throat moved up and down. "I merely . . . is he bleeding from the nose?"

"No."

"Good. That is good."

[...]

Alayne understood all that well enough, but it meant that the burden of getting Sweetrobin safely down the mountain fell on her. "Give his lordship a cup of sweetmilk," she told the maester. "That will stop him from shaking on the journey down."

"He had a cup not three days past," Colemon objected.

"And wanted another last night, which you refused him."

"It was too soon. My lady, you do not understand. As I've told the Lord Protector, a pinch of sweetsleep will prevent the shaking, but it does not leave the flesh, and in time . . ."

"Time will not matter if his lordship has a shaking fit and falls off the mountain. If my father were here, I know he would tell you to keep Lord Robert calm at all costs."

"I try, my lady, yet his fits grow ever more violent, and his blood is so thin I dare not leech him any more. Sweetsleep . . . you are certain he was not bleeding from the nose?"

"He was sniffling," Alayne admitted, "but I saw no blood."

My gut tells me that boy was in fact bleeding from the nose, and this maester is a dimwit for not checking on that himself.

It could not be more clear that Sansa has no clue how dangerous sweetsleep is, and this bumbling fool is doing a horrific job at making her understand.

+.+.+

They dare not let the full extent of Robert's frailty and cowardice become too widely known, her father had warned her.

In her mind she's protecting Robin.

+.+.+

Petyr Baelish was clear across the Vale, though, attending Lord Lyonel Corbray at his wedding. A widower of forty-odd years, and childless, Lord Lyonel was to wed the strapping sixteen-year-old daughter of a rich Gulltown merchant. Petyr had brokered the match himself. The bride's dower was said to be staggering; it had to be, since she was of common birth. Corbray's vassals would be there, with the Lords Waxley, Grafton, Lynderly, some petty lords and landed knights . . . and Lord Belmore, who had lately reconciled with her father. The other Lords Declarant were expected to shun the nuptials, so Petyr's presence was essential.

There's the first one. 1/6.

"Redfort and Waynwood are old. One or both of them may die. Gilwood Hunter will be murdered by his brothers. Most likely by young Harlan, who arranged Lord Eon's death. In for a penny, in for a stag, I always say. Belmore is corrupt and can be bought. Templeton I shall befriend. Bronze Yohn Royce will continue to be hostile, I fear, but so long as he stands alone he is not so much a threat." - Alayne I, AFFC

Too bad you pissed off Lyn Cobray in the process.

+.+.+

"Music soothes him," she corrected, "the high harp especially. It's singing he can't abide, since Marillion killed his mother." Alayne had told the lie so many times that she remembered it that way more oft than not; the other seemed no more than a bad dream that sometimes troubled her sleep.

Kind of like lying to yourself about the night you were almost raped and killed.

+.+.+

What would she do when the music began to play? It was a vexing question, to which her heart and head gave different answers. Sansa loved to dance, but Alayne . . .

The dancing girl will always follow her heart.

+.+.+

"Just give him a cup of the sweetmilk before we go, and another at the feast, and there should be no trouble."

"Very well." They paused at the foot of the stairs. "But this must be the last. For half a year, or longer."

For the record, he did have a cup of sweetmilk before they left, and will have more at the feast.

Please, she prayed, don't let him start to twitch and shake. Not here. Not now. Maester Coleman would have made certain that he drank a strong dose of sweetmilk before the feast, but even so. - Alayne I, TWOW

I have to admit, sometimes I question whether I'm denying the obvious when it comes to Robert Arryn.

+.+.+

Old snow cloaked the courtyard, and icicles hung down like crystal spears from the terraces and towers. The Eyrie was built of fine white stone, and winter's mantle made it whiter still. So beautiful, Alayne thought, so impregnable. 

Would you call it an enchantment?

+.+.+

She could not love this place, no matter how she tried. 

Don't think for one second they're going to let this interfere with their Lady of the Vale meta.

+.+.+

No one sang up there, not since Marillion. No one ever laughed too loud. Even the gods were silent. The Eyrie boasted a sept, but no septon; a godswood, but no heart tree. No prayers are answered here, she often thought, though some days she felt so lonely she had to try. Only the wind answered her, sighing endlessly around the seven slim white towers and rattling the Moon Door every time it gusted.

BRAN?!

+.+.+

Her father said there was no shame in being afraid, only in showing your fear. "All men live with fear," he said. Alayne was not certain she believed that. Nothing frightened Petyr Baelish. He only said that to make me brave.

There's nothing wrong with showing your fear.

Way to go, Ned. All you had to do was take a second and have this conversation with her before Baelish could.

+.+.+

"Don't be so certain, m'lady. She's half mule herself, that one. I think she'd leave us all to starve before she'd put those animals at risk." He smiled when he said it. He always smiles when he speaks of Mya Stone. Mya was much younger than Ser Lothor, but when her father had been brokering the marriage between Lord Corbray and his merchant's daughter, he'd told her that young girls were always happiest with older men. "Innocence and experience make for a perfect marriage," he had said.

Holy god, why do people believe Littlefinger actually plans to wed Sansa to Harry? Why.

Petyr Baelish had offered to wed the girl himself, she recalled, but of course that was impossible; he was much too lowborn. - Cersei II, ADWD

hello? HELLO??

+.+.+

Alayne wondered what Mya made of Ser Lothor. With his squashed nose, square jaw, and nap of woolly grey hair, Brune could not be called comely, but he was not ugly either. It is a common face but an honest one. Though he had risen to knighthood, Ser Lothor's birth had been very low. One night he had told her that he was kin to the Brunes of Brownhollow, an old knightly family from Crackclaw Point. "I went to them when my father died," he confessed, "but they shat on me, and said I was no blood of theirs." He would not speak of what happened after that, except to say that he had learned all he knew of arms the hard way. Sober, he was a quiet man, but a strong one. And Petyr says he's loyal. He trusts him as much as he trusts anyone. 

A bit more background on the Brunes and Cracklaw Point.

Lothor has an honest face, is quiet, strong, and loyal. If Sansa's saying it, trust it.

+.+.+

"M'lady," Ser Lothor said, "you'd best know. Mya didn't come up alone. Lady Myranda's with her."

"Oh." Why would she ride all the way up the mountain, just to ride back down again?

I think we downplay how completely insane it is that Myranda travelled all the way up this mountain only so she could ride down with Alayne.

+.+.+

"Soon or late you must meet Myranda Royce," Petyr had warned her. "When you do, be careful. She likes to play the merry fool, but underneath she's shrewder than her father. Guard your tongue around her."

I will, she thought, but I did not know I'd need to start so soon. "Robert will be pleased." He liked Myranda Royce.

Mya and Myranda are like sisters.

Littlefinger is cautious around Myranda.

Sweetrobin likes Myranda.

Everything we learn about Myranda is positive.

+.+.+

There was a scarf as well, and a pair of leather gloves lined with fur to match her riding boots. When she'd donned it all, she felt as fat and furry as a bear cub.

The snowy bear cub will be riding a mule through the harsh elements.

Eat your heart out, pantry.

+.+.+

She took one last look at her room before she left. I was safe here, she thought, but down below . .

Sansa always knows.

+.+.+

"He needs to make some haste. It's getting colder, can't you feel it? We need to get below Snow before the sun goes down."

Do you have any idea how funny this sentence is?

+.+.+

"My lord," said Mya, "will you ride down with me?"

Too brusque, Alayne thought. She should have greeted him with a smile, told him how strong and brave he looks.

You ever notice Sansa's strengths are Jon's weaknesses?

+.+.+

The sky cells on the lower levels made the castle look something like a honeycomb from below. A honeycomb made of ice, Alayne thought, a castle made of snow. 

That's a misdirection.

And later I dreamt that maid again, slaying a savage giant in a castle built of snow. - Arya VIII, AFFC

He doesn't die in the Eyrie. They can't go up the mountain during winter.

+.+.+

She [Myranda Royce] got to her feet and brushed the snow from her skirts. "And you must be the Lord Protector's daughter," she added, as the bucket went rattling back up to the Eyrie. "I had heard that you were beautiful. I see that it is true."

Alayne curtsied. "My lady is kind to say so."

"Kind?" The older girl gave a laugh. "How boring that would be. I aspire to be wicked. You must tell me all your secrets on the ride down. May I call you Alayne?"

What else would you call her?

Sansa using 'my lady' is not a tell, but it will quickly become one.

+.+.+

"If you wish, my lady." But you'll get no secrets from me.

Unreliable narrator Sansa Stark.

You're in way over your head, kid.

+.+.+

"I am 'my lady' at the Gates, but up here on the mountain you may call me Randa. How many years have you, Alayne?"

"Four-and-ten, my lady." She had decided that Alayne Stone should be older than Sansa Stark.

You can remove the girl from high nobility, but you can't remove the high nobility from the girl.

She had decided that Alayne Stone should be older than Sansa Stark.

aka the author is doing everything he can.

+.+.+

"Randa. It seems a hundred years since I was four-and-ten. How innocent I was. Are you still innocent, Alayne?"

She blushed. "You should not . . . yes, of course."

It's not every day you see a bastard correct a highborn girl.

+.+.+

Up here where the slope was steepest, the steps wound back and forth rather than plunging straight down. Sansa Stark went up the mountain, but Alayne Stone is coming down. It was a strange thought.

No real comment, but how could I leave it out?

+.+.+

I could close my eyes. The mule knows the way, he has no need of me. But that seemed more something Sansa would have done, that frightened girl. Alayne was an older woman, and bastard brave.

Sansa associates bastards with bravery.

When you're old enough, I will make you a match with a high lord who's worthy of you, someone brave and gentle and strong. - Sansa III, AGOT

We're 33% of the way there!

+.+.+

"We have had a letter from your father," she said, as casually as if they were sitting with their septa, doing needlework. "He is on his way home, he says, and hopes to see his darling daughter soon. He writes that Lyonel Corbray seems well pleased with his bride, and even more so with her dowry. I do hope Lord Lyonel remembers which one he needs to bed. Lady Waynwood turned up with the Knight of Ninestars for the wedding feast, Lord Petyr says, to everyone's astonishment."

"Anya Waynwood? Truly?" The Lords Declarant were down from six to three, it would seem. The day he'd departed the mountain, Petyr Baelish had been confident of winning Symond Templeton to his side, but not so Lady Waynwood.

She said it before I could. 3/6.

"Redfort and Waynwood are old. One or both of them may die. Gilwood Hunter will be murdered by his brothers. Most likely by young Harlan, who arranged Lord Eon's death. In for a penny, in for a stag, I always say. Belmore is corrupt and can be bought. Templeton I shall befriend. Bronze Yohn Royce will continue to be hostile, I fear, but so long as he stands alone he is not so much a threat." - Alayne I, AFFC

Too bad you pissed off Lyn Cobray in the process.

+.+.+

"Not from your father, no, but we've had other birds. The war goes on, everywhere but here. Riverrun has yielded, but Dragonstone and Storm's End still hold for Lord Stannis."

"Lady Lysa was so wise, to keep us out of it."

Myranda gave her a shrewd little smile. "Yes, she was the very soul of wisdom, that good lady."

Timeline check. Sansa's slightly ahead of Jaime.

+.+.+

There's a new High Septon, did you know? Oh, and the Night's Watch has a boy commander, some bastard son of Eddard Stark's."

"Jon Snow?" she blurted out, surprised.

Alayne, did you know you spent your entire childhood with the Faith, studying to become a septa? And did you know you have no idea who Eddard Stark's bastard is?

+.+.+

She had not thought of Jon in ages. He was only her half brother, but still . . . with Robb and Bran and Rickon dead, Jon Snow was the only brother that remained to her. I am a bastard too now, just like him. Oh, it would be so sweet, to see him once again. 

+.+.+

But of course that could never be. Alayne Stone had no brothers, baseborn or otherwise.

I believe you, author.

+.+.+

"Our cousin Bronze Yohn had himself a mêlée at Runestone," Myranda Royce went on, oblivious, "a small one, just for squires. It was meant for Harry the Heir to win the honors, and so he did."

"Harry the Heir?"

"Lady Waynwood's ward. Harrold Hardyng. I suppose we must call him Ser Harry now. Bronze Yohn knighted him."

Bronze Yohn was scheming.

+.+.+

"Oh, yes. He died on top of me. In me, if truth be told. You do know what goes on in a marriage bed, I hope?"

She thought of Tyrion, and of the Hound and how he'd kissed her, and gave a nod. "That must have been dreadful, my lady. Him dying. There, I mean, whilst . . . whilst he was . . ."

". . . fucking me?"

Lol, I love Myranda. She better not disappoint me.

+.+.+

"As you say, my lady." Alayne remembered Petyr's warning.

"Randa. Come now, you can say it. Ran. Da."

You're doing amazing, sweetie.

+.+.+

"Much better. I fear I must apologize to you. You will think me a dreadful slut, I know, but I bedded that pretty boy Marillion. I did not know he was a monster. He sang beautifully, and could do the sweetest things with his fingers. I would never have taken him to bed if I had known he was going to push Lady Lysa through the Moon Door. I do not bed monsters, as a rule." 

That right there might be a problem. When did that happen?

Remember who accompanied Catelyn Stark to the Vale? Remember who met Littlefinger's daughter when she still had red hair?

Stumpy remembers.

+.+.+

She studied Alayne's face and chest. "You are prettier than me, but my breasts are larger. The maesters say large breasts produce no more milk than small ones, but I do not believe it. Have you ever known a wet nurse with small teats? Yours are ample for a girl your age, but as they are bastard breasts, I shan't concern myself with them." 

Here's another reminder that Sansa is 13 and the young woman eyeing her up and down like a rival is 20.

+.+.+

Mychel Redfort was the one. He used to be Lyn Corbray's squire. A real squire, not like that loutish lad Ser Lyn's got squiring for him now. He only took that one on for coin, they say. 

We're still not sure who this loutish squire is.

Alayne's giggle drew Corbray's attention. He handed his shield to his loutish squire, removed his helm and quilted coif. - Alayne I, TWOW

+.+.+

"Do you think Ser Lothor likes her as she is, in mail and leather?" she asked the older girl, who seemed so worldly-wise. "Or does he dream of her draped in silks and velvets?"

"He's a man. He dreams of her naked."

Lol.

+.+.+

"Does your father plan to wed again?"

"My father?" Alayne had never considered that. Somehow the notion made her squirm. 

Why, because you have a sixth sense and deep down you know he plans to wed you?

+.+.+

He needs a pretty young wife to wash away his grief. I imagine he could have his pick of half the noble maidens in the Vale. Who could be a better husband than our own bold Lord Protector? 

Hold this.

+.+.+

Though I do wish he had a better name than Littlefinger. How little is it, do you know?"

"His finger?" She blushed again. "I don't . . . I never . . ."

Totally normal thing you might ask his daughter.

+.+.+

"It's best to lead the mules across," Mya said. "If it please my lord, I'll take mine over first, then come back for yours." Lord Robert did not answer. He was staring at the narrow saddle with his reddened eyes. "I shan't be long, my lord," Mya promised, but Alayne doubted that the boy could even hear her.

When the bastard girl led her mule out from beneath the shelter of the spire, the wind caught her in its teeth. Her cloak lifted, twisting and flapping in the air. Mya staggered, and for half a heartbeat it seemed as if she would be blown over the precipice, but somehow she regained her balance and went on.

Alayne took Robert's gloved hand in her own to stop his shaking. "Sweetrobin," she said, "I'm scared. Hold my hand, and help me get across. I know you're not afraid."

He looked at her, his pupils small dark pinpricks in eyes as big and white as eggs. "I'm not?"

"Not you. You're my winged knight, Ser Sweetrobin."

"The Winged Knight could fly," Robert whispered.

"Higher than the mountains." She gave his hand a squeeze.

Lady Myranda had joined them by the spire. "He could," she echoed, when she saw what was happening.

"Ser Sweetrobin," Lord Robert said, and Alayne knew that she dare not wait for Mya to return. She helped the boy dismount, and hand in hand they walked out onto the bare stone saddle, their cloaks snapping and flapping behind them. All around was empty air and sky, the ground falling away sharply to either side. 

[...]

And then they were on the other side, and Mya Stone was laughing and lifting Robert for a hug.

Look at our girl! Catelyn is made of steel, and this nearly broke her.

"Lady Stark," Mya called across the gulf. The girl sounded a thousand leagues away. "Are you well?"

Catelyn Tully Stark swallowed what remained of her pride. "I … I cannot do this, child," she called out. - Catelyn VI, AGOT

Sorry, I kind of have to point out Sansa has natural maternal instincts, and the author keeps highlighting that through her interactions with Robert.

+.+.+

There was ice underfoot, and broken stones just waiting to turn an ankle, and the wind was howling fiercely. It sounds like a wolf, thought Sansa. A ghost wolf, big as mountains.

+.+.+

"So you're brave as well as beautiful," Myranda said to her.

"No."

Yes.

+.+.+

"I remember a man throwing me in the air when I was very little. He stands as tall as the sky, and he throws me up so high it feels as though I'm flying. We're both laughing, laughing so much that I can hardly catch a breath, and finally I laugh so hard I wet myself, but that only makes him laugh the louder. I was never afraid when he was throwing me. I knew that he would always be there to catch me." She pushed her hair back. "Then one day he wasn't. Men come and go. They lie, or die, or leave you. A mountain is not a man, though, and a stone is a mountain's daughter. I trust my father, and I trust my mules. I won't fall." She put her hand on a jagged spur of rock, and got to her feet. "Best finish. We have a long way yet to go, and I can smell a storm."

He'll come back, Sansa.

There was nothing below but yawning blackness, nothing above but moon and stars. "The mountain is your mother," Stonesnake had told him during an easier climb a few days past. "Cling to her, press your face up against her teats, and she won't drop you." - Jon VI, ACOK

+.+.+

"We have apartments prepared for all of you," she told Alayne, "but if you like you may share my bed tonight. It's large enough for four."

"I should be honored, my lady."

"Randa.

Jesus, she's more formal than the queen during a court session.

+.+.+

Count yourself fortunate that I'm so tired. All I want to do is curl up and go to sleep. Usually when ladies share my bed they have to pay a pillow tax and tell me all about the wicked things they've done."

"What if they haven't done any wicked things?"

"Why, then they must confess all the wicked things they want to do. Not you, of course. I can see how virtuous you are just by looking at those rosy cheeks and big blue eyes of yours."

Any talk of how innocent and virtuous Sansa is will always elicit a giggle from me.

+.+.+

They all rose when she entered, and Petyr smiled warmly. "Alayne. Come, give your father a kiss."

She hugged him dutifully and kissed him on the cheek. 

I will drill through your urethra.

+.+.+

"You are never an intrusion, sweetling. I was just now telling these good knights what a dutiful daughter I had."

"Dutiful and beautiful," said an elegant young knight whose thick blond mane cascaded down well past his shoulders.

I smashed my head against the cement, and figured out this is actually Sandor Clegane.

+.+.+

"You left out that part, m'lord." "I would do the same if she were my daughter," said the last knight, a short, wiry man with a wry smile, pointed nose, and bristly orange hair. "Particularly around louts like us."

Alayne laughed. "Are you louts?" she said, teasing. "Why, I took the three of you for gallant knights."

"Knights they are," said Petyr. "Their gallantry has yet to be demonstrated, but we may hope. Allow me to present Ser Byron, Ser Morgarth, and Ser Shadrich. Sers, the Lady Alayne, my natural and very clever daughter . . . with whom I must needs confer, if you will be so good as to excuse us."

Uh oh!

For those keeping track, the following people know Alayne is Sansa:

Petyr Baelish

Oswell Kettleblack

Lothor Brune

Ser Shadrich the Mad Mouse

Myranda Royce (probably)

Yohn Royce (undetermined)

That's too many.

Personally, I don't think you introduce Ser Shadrich, and put him in the Vale, if you don't intend to use him in the story. So, yeah.

This is also a nice reminder that Littlefinger is capable of making big mistakes.

+.+.+

"I did not expect you back so soon," she said. "I am glad you've come."

"I would never have known it from the kiss you gave me." He pulled her closer, caught her face between his hands, and kissed her on the lips for a long time. "Now that's the sort of kiss that says welcome home. See that you do better next time."

I will peel your foreskin.

+.+.+

"You would not believe half of what is happening in King's Landing, sweetling. Cersei stumbles from one idiocy to the next, helped along by her council of the deaf, the dim, and the blind. I always anticipated that she would beggar the realm and destroy herself, but I never expected she would do it quite so fast. It is quite vexing. I had hoped to have four or five quiet years to plant some seeds and allow some fruits to ripen, but now . . . it is a good thing that I thrive on chaos. 

Is it still called breaking the fourth wall when it's a book?

+.+.+

The Merling King's returned to Gulltown, and old Oswell had some tales to tell."

[...]

What little peace and order the five kings left us will not long survive the three queens, I fear.

"Three queens?" She did not understand.

Nor did Petyr choose to explain. 

The peace will not survive the three queens. You shouldn't want this to be about Sansa.

It's Cersei, Margaery, and Daenerys. The Merling King returned from Braavos, he knows about Daenerys.

+.+.+

"I have brought my sweet girl back a gift."

Alayne was as pleased as she was surprised. "Is it a gown?" She had heard there were fine seamstresses in Gulltown, and she was so tired of dressing drably.

Gulltown. Gulltown. Gulltown.

+.+.+

Petyr Baelish took her by the hand and drew her down onto his lap. "I have made a marriage contract for you."

I will decorate my Christmas tree with your intestines.

+.+.+

"I am married," she whispered. "You know."

Petyr put a finger to her lips to silence her. 

I will make you nurse a badger.

+.+.+

"Lady Waynwood?" Alayne could hardly believe it. "Why would she marry one of her sons to . . . to a . . ."

". . . bastard? For a start, you are the Lord Protector's bastard, never forget. The Waynwoods are very old and very proud, but not as rich as one might think, as I discovered when I began buying up their debt. Not that Lady Anya would ever sell a son for gold. A ward, however . . . young Harry's only a cousin, and the dower that I offered her ladyship was even larger than the one that Lyonel Corbray just collected. 

I'm confident he's somehow screwing over Anya Waynwood and Lyonel Corbray on these deals.

You know who else doesn't pay debts? Littlefinger.

+.+.+

It had to be, for her to risk Bronze Yohn's wroth. This will put all his plans awry. 

It appears Littlefinger was aware of Bronze Yohn's plans. Can I be told?

+.+.+

"He was just knighted. And he has a bastard daughter by some common girl."

"And another on the way by a different wench. Harry can be a beguiling one, no doubt. Soft sandy hair, deep blue eyes, and dimples when he smiles. And very gallant, I am told."

I know, maybe Littlefinger has a cuckolding fetish, and can't wait to have his favourite play thing mounted by a younger, better looking guy? Most men are like that, right?

I mean sure, he was super territorial with Catelyn, and almost died fighting her betrothed, but he could change? Right?

+.+.+

He teased her with a smile. "Bastard-born or no, sweetling, when this match is announced you will be the envy of every highborn maiden in the Vale, and a few from the riverlands and the Reach as well."

I would love to know why any maiden from the riverlands or the Reach would give a shit about Harrold Hardyng, an upjumped squire who's never left the Vale.

You get any petitions for marriage when you were in the Reach, Baelish?

He needs a pretty young wife to wash away his grief. I imagine he could have his pick of half the noble maidens in the Vale. Who could be a better husband than our own bold Lord Protector? 

+.+.+

Petyr took her hand in his own and brushed his finger lightly down the inside of her palm.

I will harvest your organs.

+.+.+

"Won't they come before Harry? I don't understand."

"You will. Listen." Petyr took her hand in his own and brushed his finger lightly down the inside of her palm. 

"Lord Jasper Arryn, begin with him. Jon Arryn's father. He begot three children, two sons and a daughter. Jon was the eldest, so the Eyrie and the lordship passed to him. His sister Alys wed Ser Elys Waynwood, uncle to the present Lady Waynwood." He made a wry face. "Elys and Alys, isn't that precious? Lord Jasper's younger son, Ser Ronnel Arryn, wed a Belmore girl, but only rang her once or twice before dying of a bad belly. Their son Elbert was being born in one bed even as poor Ronnel was dying in another down the hall. Are you paying close attention, sweetling?"

"Yes. There was Jon and Alys and Ronnel, but Ronnel died."

"Good. Now, Jon Arryn married thrice, but his first two wives gave him no children, so for long years his nephew Elbert was his heir. Meantime, Elys was plowing Alys quite dutifully, and she was whelping once a year. She gave him nine children, eight girls and one precious little boy, another Jasper, after which she died exhausted. Boy Jasper, inconsiderate of the heroic efforts that had gone into begetting him, got himself kicked in the head by a horse when he was three years old. A pox took two of his sisters soon after, leaving six. The eldest married Ser Denys Arryn, a distant cousin to the Lords of the Eyrie. There are several branches of House Arryn scattered across the Vale, all as proud as they are penurious, save for the Gulltown Arryns, who had the rare good sense to marry merchants. They're rich, but less than couth, so no one talks about them. Ser Denys hailed from one of the poor, proud branches . . . but he was also a renowned jouster, handsome and gallant and brimming with courtesy. And he had that magic Arryn name, which made him ideal for the eldest Waynwood girl. Their children would be Arryns, and the next heirs to the Vale should any ill befall Elbert. Well, as it happened, Mad King Aerys befell Elbert. You know that story?"

She did. "The Mad King murdered him."

"He did indeed. And soon after, Ser Denys left his pregnant Waynwood wife to ride to war. He died during the Battle of the Bells, of an excess of gallantry and an axe. When they told his lady of his death she perished of grief, and her newborn son soon followed. No matter. Jon Arryn had gotten himself a young wife during the war, one he had reason to believe fertile. He was very hopeful, I'm sure, but you and I know that all he ever got from Lysa were stillbirths, miscarriages, and poor Sweetrobin.

"Which brings us back to the five remaining daughters of Elys and Alys. The eldest had been left terribly scarred by the same pox that killed her sisters, so she became a septa. Another was seduced by a sellsword. Ser Elys cast her out, and she joined the silent sisters after her bastard died in infancy. The third wed the Lord of the Paps, but proved barren. The fourth was on her way to the riverlands to marry some Bracken when Burned Men carried her off. That left the youngest, who wed a landed knight sworn to the Waynwoods, gave him a son that she named Harrold, and perished."

+.+.+

He turned her hand over and lightly kissed her wrist.

I will invert your ribcage.

+.+.+

"So tell me, sweetling—why is Harry the Heir?"

Her eyes widened. "He is not Lady Waynwood's heir. He's Robert's heir. If Robert were to die . . ."

SHE'S A CHILD PRODIGY.

+.+.+

Petyr arched an eyebrow. "When Robert dies. Our poor brave Sweetrobin is such a sickly boy, it is only a matter of time. When Robert dies, Harry the Heir becomes Lord Harrold, Defender of the Vale and Lord of the Eyrie. Jon Arryn's bannermen will never love me, nor our silly, shaking Robert, but they will love their Young Falcon . . .

I'm sure your cheque book can fix that.

Do you think Littlefinger wants to compete with a young man who is loved by the high lords and common folk? I don't.

+.+.+

Jon Arryn's bannermen will never love me, nor our silly, shaking Robert, but they will love their Young Falcon . . . and when they come together for his wedding, and you come out with your long auburn hair, clad in a maiden's cloak of white and grey with a direwolf emblazoned on the back . . . why, every knight in the Vale will pledge his sword to win you back your birthright. So those are your gifts from me, my sweet Sansa . . . Harry, the Eyrie, and Winterfell. That's worth another kiss now, don't you think?"

This is going to sound crazy, but you should question everything Littlefinger says.

Anyway, this feels familiar, doesn't it?

"Does this mean you will not wed the girl? I warn you, she is part of the price you must pay, if you want your father's name and your father's castle. This match is necessary, to help assure the loyalty of our new subjects. Are you refusing me, Jon Snow?" - Jon XI, ASOS

+.+.+

That's worth another kiss now, don't you think?

I will power wash your colon.

Final thoughts:

There's only one more Sansa chapter.

-> return to menu <-

[alwaysteveswife]

Right person, Wrong time | Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader.

This is just a "mini" story from Eddie's point of view, in which he narrates how he has coped with the loss of one of the most important people in his life.

Warnings: Mention of Y/N's Death, angst, a lot of angst, Eddie having a strong crush on Y/N, mention of characters that do not belong to the series, such as Allyson (Steve's partner) and Ethan, Y/N's younger brother.

Number of characters: 9,793

If I had to describe my relationship with Y/N, I would say that the phrase that most represents us is 'You were the right person at the wrong time'.

I remember the first time I saw her. It was two years ago, the first day back from vacation. I was putting my things away in my locker, listening to annoyed laughter and the occasional comment from people who were annoyed by my style as if I cared about their opinion. When I finished, I saw Allyson walking down the hallway. Perhaps the reason they caught my eye was because they looked like polar opposites; Y/N was dressed completely in black, with a KISS t-shirt and dark jeans, while, on the other hand, Allyson was wearing pastel colors.

She and I were friends, playmates. That was why she approached me with a big smile, talking about how much she wanted this to be my year. Y/N stood beside her, more interested in looking repulsively at Tommy H than at our conversation. That first time we didn't cross words, nor did we introduce ourselves, but I can assure you that it was the beginning of everything, at least for me.

After that day I saw her everywhere, and not by chance. It's not like I followed her everywhere like a psycho, I just tried to find her with my eyes when I went to places I knew I was obligated to go. Most of the time it was the cafeteria, where she would take a seat with her friend and whisper about other annoying students.

The first time we spoke was the following year. I approached Allyson to ask if she was going to attend the club where we played D&D along with other fans. She was there, listening intently. I was so nervous that I started acting hysterical, and thanks to that I made her laugh. When her face lit up, a huge warmth filled me completely. In that instant I knew I was screwed, I had fallen for Y/N, and Allyson noticed.

She insisted on joining the club, to put me in situations where we could be alone, to talk and all that. Thanks to those little moments we were able to move forward in our relationship, we were able to be friends. I could feel a spark between the two of us, a big one. I could tell when she was flirting with me, and I knew she could tell when I was flirting with her, but, for some reason, we never became 'something more'.

After that came Billy Hargrove, a first rate jerk. Womanizing, cocky, he was the spitting image of a 'real' man, and all the girls fell for him. Including the one I thought would be my girl. When I found out, something broke inside me, something that made me wonder why him and not me? Was I so horrible that I couldn't win her love?

The first few weeks were the worst, hands down. I hung out with Allyson and Steve almost every day to distract myself. The two of them had started dating, and although Steve was unbearable to me at first, I could tell his attitude was different. He was nice, and he loved Allyson, just as she loved him. I hated to admit it, but the two of them looked great together.

After the second month, everything got better, I hardly saw Y/N anymore, but thanks to that I avoided feeling bad.

"What the fuck happened to you?" It wasn't the best way to welcome the love of my life, but it was the only thing I could say when I saw her come to my house full of mud and with red marks on her neck.

"Just shut your mouth and let me in" Despite the bluntness of her comment, I could tell how her voice sounded like she was about to cry.

I opened the door, letting her come in and settle wherever she wanted. After a few minutes of silence, she told me how she ended up like that and how she ran away to my house. To make a long story short, and to avoid the horrible memory of what she told me, it was all because of that son of a bitch of a boyfriend.

I clenched my jaw, avoiding sounding angrier than I was.

"Hey, look, I know I'm not the best person to give you advice, but do you really think it's worth it to be with an asshole like that?"

"What the fuck are you talking about, Eddie?" she snapped up, glaring at me hatefully.

"I mean he doesn't deserve you, Y/N" I stood up too, grabbing her shoulders, "A girl like you, no, any girl deserves to be treated with dignity, with appreciation, you... you deserve better than him."

She pushed me hard, grabbing her things quickly. I tried to stop her, I really tried, but I couldn't force her to stay, I didn't want her to think I would hurt her or something.

"Something better? Something better" She gave a giggle, smiling sarcastically as she moved towards the door, "And what's supposed to be better? You? A teenage drug addict who doesn't know what he's going to live off of? Don't make me laugh, Eddie."

She slammed the door shut, leaving me on edge. I wanted to follow her, apologize to her, whatever, but I didn't. I stayed in my house, like a coward, she left because of me, I lost her because of me.

No one saw her again, she disappeared and her body was never found, but we all knew she wasn't alive. Allyson prepared her funeral, from the casket to the flowers. She made special invitations to a selective group of people and dared to play a completely anti-Christian soundtrack when they lowered the empty coffin. There weren't too many people in the place, hopefully there were about 15 of us, but still the atmosphere was full of sadness and tension.

Everyone cried too much, including me. The only one who kept a serene expression was Allyson. It seemed as if her soul had left her body. She was, but she wasn't. She was staring at nothing, waving her hands nervously, even having to be carried home by Steve after she almost had a panic attack.

Neither of our lives went back to normal, but we were trying. I quit selling drugs and started going to a rehab group. Ethan no longer cried every time he saw something that belonged to his sister, he was able to go out with his friends and have fun. Steve, who she had befriended before the tragedy, had started working at Family Video along with Robin. And Allyson, she was coping in her own way, not very well, but she was, and Harrington was there to help her, to take care of her as he promised Y/N he would.

Today was Saturday, it was horribly hot, but I couldn't miss our appointment. I got off my motorcycle, carefully removing my helmet and taking a bag out of the back. I already knew the way by heart, I came here every Saturday.

When I got to the place, I stood there for a few seconds reading the name on the tombstone. I sighed and took a seat in front of it, smiling as I noticed the little teddy bear Allyson had left here when she came.

"Hi, honey, it's me, Eddie" From the bag I pulled some plastic flowers, setting them down "In my defense, normal flowers die really fast, these are more resilient" I laughed, holding the bag in my lap "I brought you a present, but I'll give it to you when I'm done telling you everything that happened this week" I leaned my back against the headstone, looking up at the sky "Today marks exactly 3 months and 4 days since I last smoked, can you believe it? At the rehab center they gave me a stamp that said 'Congratulations, it's your third month', it's ridiculous, but I like to hang them on my window curtain, they're like trophies" I started to pull some weed from the floor "Oh, and by the way, guess who managed to graduate" I smiled, waiting a few seconds, hoping she could answer me from beyond the grave "That's right, it's me. It still doesn't sink in, but I made it. I've been thinking about studying mechanics, there's a university near here that has that career and I thought 'Why not?' I can come by motorcycle from there every weekend, it won't be too much trouble, don't worry" I laughed, closing my eyes "Allyson also managed to graduate, she's seeing if she can get into a university that's a few miles from here, more to the city. She also convinced Steve to try to start a modeling career, and you know what the worst part is? That son of a bitch got in" I laughed harder, remembering how he called each of us to tell us the news "They both plan to work part time to pay the rent on an apartment over there. Since the incident last time, Steve hasn't wanted to leave Allyson alone for a second, they're like fingernails. It's horrible to watch" I grimaced, clearly faked, I loved those two "You don't have to grieve either, he promised to come to see you at least twice a month" I turned around facing his tombstone "Fuck new news, I'm a very impatient person, so let's go with your surprise" I took out of the bag a white and purple skirt "It's the Hellfire Club t-shirt, remember you were going to join? Well, you didn't get around to it, but I took the trouble to have a limited edition one made for you. It's in your favorite color, I picked it out for you" My smile gradually faded, until there was no trace of it anymore "I.... I'm sorry, Y/N, I'm so sorry" I brought the t-shirt to my face, feeling it getting wet "It's my fault, I did this to you, forgive me, please" I cringed, crying even harder, feeling my throat tearing and my stomach turning into a giant knot "I love you" I whispered between sobs, resting my head on the headstone, imagining what it would be like if she were here, facing me, forehead to forehead, our breaths being one, fused in an embrace that chased away all my fears and in turn chased away hers.

We were that 'something else' that never was. That teenage love that I always wanted, but now I will be unable to have. She took a part of me, but I took a part of her too, and I will keep it as a treasure, as my most prized possession, because she made me feel that way, so I will make her feel that way too, even if she is in the afterlife, even if she never loved me like I did.

Masterlist

[space-helen]

Sick Day

Words: 554

Pairing: Gil Grissom x Reader

Request:  Gil and the reader wake up one day (well, night) with the sniffles due to LACK of fucking SLEEP. Gil has the symptoms like we see in 8x12, meanwhile (y/n) is sneezing the house down. And Hank is like "oh god...now it's not one but BOTH of my humans" - @coping-via-clinteastwood

______________________

You groaned and sat up in bed. Running a hand over your cheek you reached the other to shut off your alarm.

Grissom moved in bed beside you and reached for the bedside lamp. His voice was husky from congestion. “I’m sorry if I kept you up.”

“It’s ok.” you dropped your hand from your face and sniffled slightly. This didn’t get past the man. 

“Are you getting sick too?”

You shook your head as the man sat up next to you. “I’m fine.”

His hand rested on yours “You can take the day off you know that right?”

“Of course I do.” smiling you looked into the man's blue eyes.

The man coughing ruined the moment and all he could do was smile “I’m sorry. I haven’t been this sick in a while.”

“You’re allowed to be sick.”

“And you are too.”

You quipped an eyebrow at the man “I’m not sick and I’m going to work today.”

“Alright.” The man held up his hands.

Getting out of bed you quickly got dressed and grabbed something to eat, thankful that you showered last night.

“I’ll see you later. Do you need anything before I go?”

“I’m fine. Thank you.”

The man watched as you left and the pitter patter of feet into his room wasn’t far behind you leaving.

The man threw his legs over the side of the bed and leant down to pet his companion. “How about we make some soup?”

Grabbing his dressing gown he tied it around his waist and moved for the kitchen to make some soup. Hank not far behind him.

Leaving the soup to bubble away, the man settled on the couch with a mug of coffee and his laptop. Going through his emails he was startled when he heard the door slamming shut.

The shock triggered a coughing fit but he tried to turn to see who’d just entered his home. “Y/N?” he said between coughs.

“Yeah. I know I know.” you waved off as you slid off your shoes and made your way to the couch to take a seat next to him, tissue clearly in hand.

“I guess I am sick.” you leaned back on the couch and the man did so as well.

“Did you get sent home or did you send yourself home?”

“Brass.”

“Ah.” you curled up to the man's side and shivered slightly before breaking out into a sneezing fit.

“I see why he wouldn’t want you at a scene.”

“It isn’t ideal. I felt fine until I got there.” Hank came to sit in front of the two of you.

He wrapped his arm around you and brought you close, you were soon pulling away to sneeze again. The dog’s head turned to stare at you as you did

The man laughed slightly. “Looks like Hank isn’t a fan of the both of us being sick.” 

Leaning forward you pet the dogs head “I’m not a fan of it either buddy.”

Grissom rested his hand on your lower back as you pet Hank. In the silence you could hear the rasp in Grissom’s lungs and the sniffles from your nose.

Eventually getting to his feet Grissom began to move through to the kitchen “I made some soup. You want some? Family recipe.”

“How could I say no.”

Tag List: (open)

Grissom: @coping-via-clint-eastwood​

CSI:

[butwhyduh]

Hair Bows

Roy Harper x batsis!reader

Summary: a date turned into a play date turned into work. Basically Lian taking over Titans tower. And canon has no home here.

“I’m just about to head out the door,” you said over the phone, still doing your hair. Roy wasn’t the most punctual guy and this was your way of coping. If you were also always late, it didn’t bother you as much.

“Wait,” Roy said and you heard a muffled sound like him running his hand down his face. “I can’t go.”

“Why not?”

“My babysitter punked out at the last minute so I can’t leave Lian. I’m sorry,” he said.

“Oh, uhhh, bring her,” you suggested, hopefully sounding casual. You’d met her a few times but nothing big and your date was just a walk in the park. Nothing a kid couldn’t do. And you were hoping to be a little more seriously dating.

“Seriously?... on a date?” He asked.

“Not if you don’t want to. But I just thought we were going to the park and we can let her run around. You know what? Never mind, if you need to stay home it’s cool. I don’t know anything about kids-“

“Hey, it’s a good idea,” he said stopping your ramble. “I just wasn’t expecting it. Most people don’t want someone else’s kid on their date.”

“Most people shouldn’t date people with kids if they can’t be around them,” you answered, finishing up. “Now am I meeting you both at the park or..”

“Now I know why I’m dating you,” Roy said and you could hear the smile through the phone. “I’ll pick you up. Lian’s not a fan of riding in other people’s car so Uber is out.”

“Can’t blame her. See you soon,” you answered.

——————————

You had changed into a slightly less sexy and more family friendly top and sensible shoes by the time Roy picked you up. Can’t chase a kid in heels.

Roy looked nice in a button down and jeans with no holes in them. Not a trucker hat in sight. And of course, Lian was a doll in a spring themed dress and leather bottomed sandals. The first thing she showed you was an impressively high kick.

“And it’s okay because dad makes me wear shorts under it. For taking out punks,” she said knowingly. You nodded.

“For punks. Good idea.”

“In case they get fresh,” Roy said to you as she ran to a slide.

“Fresh? She’s 5. Maybe Lian should teach me that move. I know this guy that’s always trying to get fresh,” you said as he wrapped an arm around your waist from behind and rested his head on your shoulder.

“Hmmm, should I kick his ass,” Roy said playfully.

“I’d pay to see you kick your own ass,” you said with a laugh.

“Ouch, and I thought you liked me,” he said, sounding dramatically wounded. You laughed again.

“The entertainment value tho. Hard to beat.”

“So many ‘hard to beat’ jokes I would make right now,” he whispered in your ear and you pulled out of his arms. You were rolling your eyes but the grin ruined the disapproving air you were trying to have.

“Not that kinda date,” you reminded him and as if on cue, Lian ran over to Roy and grabbed his hand. She started dragging him to a food truck.

“Can we get a funnel cake? Or ice cream? Or a hotdog?” She asked excitedly.

“Hotdog and then ice cream on top of a funnel cake,” he said in a mock serious tone as he bent down beside her. She grinned widely. “We aren’t animals!” She squealed and dragged him to food truck.

You grinned as you watched them. Roy had fucked up a ton but this was not one of those times. Nope, he was a great dad. He looked back at you confused as why you hadn’t joined them and you jogged over to them.

“Sorry, just lost in thought,” you said as they made your food. Roy had a hand casually around your waist as Lian tried to swing on his other arm.

“Bout what?” He asked.

“How good a dad you are,” you admitted. He gave you a shy crooked smile before kissing your forehead.

“You bats are always in your head too damn much. But thanks,” Roy ended softly. He handed Lian a giant hotdog that she promptly started eating before giving you your food and he his. “Let’s find a spot to sit before you drop that giant hotdog.”

As Lian licked sticky sweet ice cream coated funnel cake pieces off of her arm, Roy’s phone went off. He smiled apologetically before getting up to answer it. A few minutes later he came back to the table looking even more apologetic.

“Titans business. I have to go but...” he started, running a hand through his red hair. “I don’t have a babysitter.”

“I could watch her,” you suggested and Lian looked up at him kinda sad. “I could watch her at the tower. You’d be right there but we’d stay out of the way.”

“You sure? That isn’t too much?” He said unsure, looking between you both.

“Yeah, I’ve watched kids before. And I know the tower really well. We’ll watch movies and fall asleep. Do you want a sleep over?”

“Yeah! Go on dad, I’m fine,” she said waving a hand at him. You both laughed. “Dads,” Lian said rolling her eyes playfully. Yep, she’s Roy’s alright. “Do you have popcorn?”

“Yep!”

“Candy?”

“Yep! And I know where my brother Tim keeps the good imported stuff,” you said and she grinned.

“Not too much. Or staying up too late. Or anything scary or too grown up,” Roy said on the way to the tower. “And if anything happens. Anything. Get to the panic room.”

“I know the procedures,” you said putting a hand on his shoulder. “And I can keep her safe. Don’t worry. We’ll have fun.”

“And I can kick punks!” Lian said proudly.

“And she’ll kick punks! I’m hoping she hits Gar first. Did you know he can turn into any animal? He just chooses to be a punk,” You said and she giggled.

“Wow!”

“Alright. No kicking punks unless it’s really important because-“

“My body is a weapon. I know, dad,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Roy repeated the same sort of things up in the living quarters of the tower before giving you both a kiss. “Stay safe,” he said before going downstairs.

Some of the younger Titan recruits didn’t leave on the mission and were hanging out or training. You walked Lian over to the couch and went to find a movie she might like. You dusted off the dvds they had. Probably hadn’t added any new ones in many years with the extensive funding of Batman giving them every streaming service ever.

“How about this movie,” you asked, holding up a sun bleached dvd case. “Space jam?”

Lian looked at it carefully before nodding. You put it in the player and came back. “What about popcorn? Dad says movies are crap without it.”

“Oh,” you said. “Right. I’ll make some.”

“Popcorn?” Came a voice around the corner before the next you saw was a wind of red. “Hey kiddo,” Bart aka impulse said to Lian before shaking her hand. “Let’s pick a movie. There are some pretty good ones I haven’t seen. I’ve seen 12 movies.”

“Only 12,” she frowned skeptically and you took the opportunity to go in the kitchen and make popcorn.

“Hey, did you let Lian have speedster piggy back rides,” Tim aka Robin said ducking his head in the kitchen.

“No,” you said quickly running in the living area quickly. “Okay, enough of that. I don’t think her dad would be cool with this,” you said pulling her off of him. She pouted a little.

“Why does it smell like fire,” Cassie asked from the hall and you hurried back in the kitchen to see a flaming bag turning in the microwave. Before you could do it say anything, Bart opened the microwave and tossed the bag into the sink where the sponge lit on fire. Lian shrieked and you jumped up turn on the water to put them both out.

“That popcorn smells ewwie,” Lian noted. You sighed and pinched your brow. This is fine.

“I’ll make more and you go pick out a movie. And nothing else,” you emphasized.

“Yes, ma’am,” Bart said with a salute. Tim winced.

“Sorry, he’s a lot.”

“One minor kitchen fire is not too bad. Have you heard from the mission?” You asked as you cooked the popcorn.

“Not yet. But no news is usually good news,” he reminded you and you nodded. That’s what Roy always said. You grabbed the bag and went in the living room to see an entire hot pink tackle box filled with every kind of hair tie and bows and baubles. Bart was sitting on the floor and Lian was currently tying a bright yellow bow in his huge mass of red hair.

“She wanted to do his hair so I got my stuff,” Cassie said.

“She’s a natural. She doesn’t rip out half as much hair as Cassie,” Bart said with a grin. You sat on the couch near them and started the movie as the popcorn passed around.

Halfway through the movie, Tim’s phone goes off. He looks at it and frowns. “Alright guys, we got to suit up.” They grumble but get up. Bart does a quick shake that reminds you of a dog and all the bows vibrated out of his hair. Lian laughed and tried to catch them as they fell out.

“Lian, give me just a minute to talk to Tim,” you told her and she nodded before putting a red barrette in Cassie’s hair. You walked in the kitchen with Tim.

“Is everything okay? Dick? Roy?” You asked quietly.

“I’m not sure. We’re just being called in. I’ll try and let you know more,” he said. You nodded and hugged your baby brother.

“Be safe out there.”

“Always.”

Lian was sitting on the couch as the cartoon played and she had moved on to putting bows on the fuzzy blanket on the couch. She yawned as she put bows in your hair and you looked at the time. It was probably close to bed time for her.

“Lian, do you want to lay down while watching your movie?”

She yawned again and nodded. “Yeah, dad will be home late again, hu? Work?” She was pretty used to his hero duty.

“Yeah, but I’m here.”

“Yeah, you’re here,” she said before laying on you. You froze for a second before feeling your heart warmed. She rubbed her popcorn greasy face into your shirt before getting comfortable. After a short while she was asleep and you pulled out your phone to take her photo.

You wanted to send Roy the photo but didn’t dare disturb him. You kept worrying about him and Dick and now even Tim as they fought. Why had they needed the back up? Were they hurt? In too deep? You had a hard time doing anything but worry.

Lian turned in her sleep and all but pinned you to the couch with her little fists gripping your shirt. You pulled the blanket over her. You tried to stay awake but once it hit 2 am and you were trapped on a couch with no lights on, you fell asleep.

Around 4 am, the team wandered in the tower slowly. They hushed one another as they saw you and Lian on the couch. Roy came in and stopped to look. He took out his phone and took a bunch of pictures of you both with a smile before he hobbled to the medical bay to be cleaned and patched up.

“Hey,” he whispered while gently tapping your shoulder a little while later. You woke up blinking in the light. “I’m going to carry her to the car. Are you coming?”

“Oh, yeah,” you whispered back. Roy carefully pulled the little girl off of you and she clung to his shirt in sleep. He grabbed his bag of gear as you got up with a stretch. You waved bye to everyone before leaving.

Halfway down the road, Roy turned to you. “She really seemed comfortable on you.”

“Yeah, she climbed up herself. I was a little surprised. I guess I didn’t mess up tonight,” you said with a little self deprecating laugh.

“Nah, you did great. I had to hear all about it from the kid heroes on the way back. The hair bows was genius,” he said. The car quietly pulled in his driveway.

“That was Cassie. And when Lian saw all of Bart’s hair her eyes went wide like a cat at a ball of yarn,” you laughed.

“Yeah, she’s a fan of long red hair. Ask me how I know,” he said shaking his hair and you laughed. Lian moved in her sleep.

“So she ripped out your hair so Bart’s could survive,” you said quietly.

“Something like that. Can you get the door,” he said before scooping Lian out of her car seat. You held the door as he carried her to her room and laid her in her toddler bed that currently had a Superboy blanket. She had just about any hero you could image in some product or another.

Roy met you in the kitchen. “Thanks, you know. For watching her today. I appreciate that,” he said. You tossed him a water bottle.

“Yeah, she’s awesome. We had fun,” you said, leaning on the counter with your elbows. Roy came up behind you and rubbed your shoulders.

“Not everyone is cool with dating a dad so thanks,” he said. You turned your head to look at him.

“Well, they are missing out. Got my own DILF,” you teased.

“Oh god, I’m a DILF,” Roy said with a hint of horror in his voice. “Speaking of ILF... I know someone I’d like to ILF,” he said kissing your neck and pressing himself against your back. His hands moved under your shirt and up to your chest. “Wanna take it to my room?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

[lucy90712]

shopping (pregnancy series)

Series masterlist  George:

Since family have known about the pregnancy they have been buying things for us so we have a small amount of clothes for the baby but not really that much and with time moving so quickly George and I are going out today to try and get as much as we can.

We headed to the nearest shopping mall where there was a bunch of baby shops for us to look through. There was so much stuff to look at and an endless amount of cute clothes which of course we had to buy a lot of. I thought I was going to be the one obsessed with all the clothes and just how tiny they were but George was freaking out when holding up all of clothes against his chest.

The next thing we looked for was bigger items like car seats and push chairs which is a minefield in itself. There was a really nice worker there to help us out and tell us all we needed to know about the best brands and how to use each one which made it much easier for us to choose. We picked the ones that worked best for us even if they weren't necessarily the best one out there we found them easiest to use and thats all that matters.

By the time we had left we had spent quite a lot of money but thats what comes with having a baby I guess and its only going to get worse when she just keeps growing and we have to buy all new clothes.

Dream:

Today me and Clay had nothing to do and were bored just sat down so we decided to go to target to look at all the baby clothes because that's something we can just do for fun now which is just the best thing ever. Clay has been super excited about buying baby clothes because he loves just looking at the ones we have and thinking about the fact that our baby will be in those in just a few short months.

At target they had a pretty good selection of clothes and they were all so cute, our original plan was just to look at the baby clothes but we couldn't resist buying a few things and some shoes for when she gets older because they were too small and adorable not to. We have a pretty good selection of clothes at home but we have been told that you need way more than you think because they grow so quick and in general babies are messy so you have to change them quite a lot.

It really freaked me out when Clay put a new born onesie up against my bump comparing how big the baby will roughly be to the size of my stomach and although I'm only halfway through its kind of weird to think that something that size will be inside of me and then have to come out. Surely thats going to hurt so bad, I don't think I'm going to cope giving birth but its too late now.

Sapnap:

I was chilling on the sofa eating a snack because I was hungry when the doorbell rang so I got up to answer it for what felt like the millionth time in the past week. The package was left outside for me so I picked it up and went to the kitchen to open it because it was addressed to me and Sapnap. Inside the package was more baby clothes that bad had sent us which was sweet of him.

A lot of our friends have sent us things for the baby to the point that we have so many clothes for our baby that I'm dreading having to wash them all before he can wear them. It is nice to have all these things though and our friends have been so nice to even think about sending them. Me and Sapnap have got some things ourselves obviously but honestly a lot of it has come from friends and family.

Sapnap came downstairs to see what was delivered and we looked at all of the cute clothes together. He sent a text to bad to thank him for the things he sent then he dragged me to his pc where he already had web pages of baby clothes up. We looked at the clothes together and brought some of them as well as other necessary things like blankets which will end up as more parcels that I have to collect, I should probably just sit outside all day waiting because it will save time getting up and down.

Quackity:

Me and Alex have been pretty proficient at getting a lot of the things we will need but the only things we don't have is a car seat and stroller which we plan to go out and get today. We went to a store that was recommended to us by family and friends and they had so many different things to choose from so we are going to be here for a while.

We worked together to try and work out how the things worked and how you take down the stroller which we both had attempts at to make sure we could both do it. Some strollers were just too complicated for us and not easy to put up which was just not going to work if your holding a baby.

The fact that half of the strollers and car seats were too complicated to work ruled out a lot of options and it may seem kind of stupid when together we could use them but there will be times when one of us has to take her out and it would be way too annoying to deal with. We got a car seat and stroller that we found easy to use and were rated highly by other parents which is just what we needed.

Karl:

We are spending the day with Chris and going baby shopping today we were going to go alone but Chris insisted on joining us to help with telling us exactly what we need. I already had some idea of what was needed from reading a few books and watching some videos but it would be nice to have someone with experience there to make doubly sure that we don't go too overboard.

He showed us a bunch of stuff that we will need and we decided on a car seat but they didn't have the stroller we liked so we decided to order it when we got home. Chris also told us not to buy too many newborn clothes because they quickly grow out of them and its nice for them to have things to grow into so we mostly got 3-6 months because thats what he suggested.

I really enjoyed looking at all the baby stuff because it was all so cute and tiny but also big when you think about having to give birth to something that size but I'm trying to ignore that part at least for now. Chris also offered to give us some of Tucker's old clothes that he does fit into anymore to help out which was nice of him.

Wilbur:

Me and Wilbur have a few things that people have gifted us and a few things we ordered but tonight we are going on a buying spree to get as much as we can online. We would go in person but being in Brighton means that Wilbur gets recognised a lot and we haven't announced things to the fans yet and don't want it to be leaked so we just aren't risking it.

We both had our laptops out and were looking at clothes and other things which we showed each other before buying them. It's not quite as nice as getting to see baby clothes in real life but its still fun to get them in the mail because I often forget what we actually ordered. We managed to find a bunch of things as well as important things like a stroller and car seat which we were recommended good ones from friends that have kids so we trusted them.

Turns out shopping for baby clothes online is much less stressful that in real life because its easy to find cute things and in the sizes we want and its delivered right to our door. So much more convenient.

[sanghyukstattoos]

SF9's reaction: blowjobs?

Genre: fluff-fluff-fluff; smut (contains oral, praise kink, dom/sub themes, mutual masturbation, semi-public sex) / [Warnings: dumbification, mentions of crying, degrading names (slut), some unprotected sex]

A/N: None of the images in the collage are mine, refer to here for more; For more SF9, read here, for iKON, read here and for optional bias writings, read here

Youngbin:

Since you asked anon, ahaha

You sigh, shifting in your seat, partly to relieve yourself of the ache in your glutes; party in frustration from Youngbin who is seated next to you, dozing off. Truthfully, you find it funny and what's not to about it? He looks cute from the angle you are sitting at, holding himself by the palm of his hand that leans on the other arm-rest of the cinema chair. You don't want to wake him up, empathetic for all those schedules he had, yet he asked you- insisted really, to meet him up here. Well, you did predict with a 100% accuracy that he would fall asleep. You are all the way at the back, it's been long since you've seen him, you want him and you can have him, right now (?). It's not risky, more enticing as you shiver from excitement. You do not know what compels you to do this, perhaps a daring combination of lust and longing. You giggle, eyes drawing to the screen and the people. Oh you are loving this movie but what can you do about it? You carefully get onto your knees, rather quickly, ignoring the ache in between your inner thighs. It's all nimble because of the nervousness, you shakily unbutton his trousers, tug them down and then his boxers. You look up, is he really asleep? Deeper sleep than you thought? You wouldn't be surprised. Make the best out of every situation. You spit on your hands and pump him a few times and there's the bulge that you would have seen as an outline if you were at home. You take him in your mouth, wet and warm and that's when he jerks awake, like a small one, 'I've woken up' is the appropriate saying. You bob your head, increasing your grip on his thigh, holding yourself back from touching yourself, it'd be more pleasurable that way. He takes a couple of seconds but his hands automatically fly to the back of your head, caressing your hand and he wants to tell you, ''Good girl, you take me so well.'' which he does, in a whisper and it does absolutely nothing to quell the ache in your wet core, you clench your thighs together even harder at his words. Your smile grows, maybe in shyness or in a state of bliss, albeit not as much if it was his cock stuffed inside your pussy, you fondle his balls, flattening your tongue to the underside where a vein lies. He's nervous now, undoubtedly as he looks around but he doesn't want to stop you and he does not till you've milked him dry with your mouth.

Inseong:

He's reading something, or rather, he's studying, maybe English, you've forgotten what it was, an hour and then another passing since he's started. He got a little bit distracted at first, quickly getting up from his seat and walking to where you where, entering the room, hovering over you, pressing kisses to your neck and chest, so close to grinding his hips over yours when you pushed him away, hand on his chest, ''Don't you have to study?'' to which he moaned about something- nonsense mumbles and buried his head in your chest (he was in a whining mood). It made you laugh, honestly. ''You're so sweet you know?'' you said, clutching his cheeks and directing his gaze at you and he chuckled, shy, reminding himself and you, that he had to study (unfortunately). You smiled as he left not expecting him for another hour or so, bringing your laptop back to your lap. The comforters smell like him and his rather luxurious body lotion he uses + that, plus you can't stop thinking of his silk pyjamas, should you tease him about it or not? You contemplate that, at approximately thirty minutes past, around the same time he stalks into the room with extra light footsteps. All the while he was studying, he thought of all the encouraging words your gave him when he first told you that he was taking this test and suddenly, one of the memories was of you saying, ''You've done so well you know''- a non-sexual situation with that smile of yours, beaming for him, that made his heart curl up into a ball and continue to do his best for you. He was in that mood, he felt relief when he got up from his seat and made his way to you. You welcomed him with open arms, ''Hey baby'', nuzzling his hair, hovering over him. You needed him too but you were up for something else today. Something a little more dominating, you needed to know if he was okay with it today, feeling like it. There's a lot going on his eyes, he's silent but looking, growing more happy the further your fingers go, trailing downwards to his hips and hooking in the band of his joggers, the loose material- ''Did you finish studying?'' you ask. The words come too suddenly for him, the moment of truth that decides what your actions will be and he gulps, growing nervous. His groin stirs at what you could do but he replies, ''A-almost, almost done you know''. You smile, he's nervous so he hasn't done what he was supposed to; you also think that it is perfect. You bite your lip and pulls his joggers to his ankle revealing his semi-hard cock, ''You sound nervous baby'', you lean down and place a kiss on his lower tummy, not bothering to see the expression on his face. He doesn't want to lie to you and he hasn't- he could wing that test any day. He lies in anticipation, not saying anything like you, you simply smile and pump him, resulting in a slight thrust of his hips into your hand and when he's hard, you spit on his tip and stroke him, hearing heavy breaths and moans, he absolutely loves your mouth on him but he knows that this night won't end as he wants it too- you've got something up your sleeve and he can feel it. You chuckle at the way he has lifted his head to peer at you, the way you swallow his cock but most of all, how your warm mouth feels around him. You bob your head, giving him encouraging squeezes on his inner thighs so he knows that he's doing well till the time he's about to release. You love this part, just to tease him. Tears prick at his eyes when you stop before he is about to release. You come up and take him into your arms at the sight. When you hold him, that's when the waterfall begins and you hold him till you hear sniffles. You wipe his tears and kiss him softly, with reassurance, ''How about this: you go study, do your best while you are at it and then we'll think about we can solve your problem later huh?''. He nods and stays in your arms for sometime, snuggling into you before he leaves for the study room.

Jaeyoon:

You steadily walk through the thick, velvet blue curtains, calming your haste by the soothing clicking of your shoes. Upon entering the wide hall, you pause and marvel at the sight. It's so beautifully decorated, you think, complimenting the production designers and workers on their work and effort. Past the rows and rows of empty seats that, fingers crossed, will be completely filled for the show, you spot Jaeyoon, the main lead and his female lead hunched together, viewing something on a camera. It was rumoured that Jaeyoon was difficult to work with. At first you presumed that it was because of his personal life, uncontrollable perhaps? Or because of his attitude, he could find it hard to cope with the reality of his fame or maybe he had anger issues, because of it or independently, you didn't know for sure. Or it could be false so you kept your prejudices to yourself. No point in being presumptuous you thought, you didn't even know the guy. Then. You watched him perform, eyes gleaming at the whole thing itself. Credit where credit was due, they were amazing and after weeks of preparation, a standing ovation was what they deserved. Backstage, you asked him if he wanted to go for a show, a neighbouring one? ''To see the competition?'' his tone was playful and he was smiling, ''I don't mind''. Palpable, he found his core tightening, ever since last week. How close were the two of you? Well, he had you almost naked under him until you were interrupted by the bell and he had to leave. It had been a week. He had pushed you on the bed, hastily kissing you, hovering over with a buzz in his head- the wine from dinner. Then. Their stage was equally impressive, given your live commentary throughout where the two of you had your mouth continuously open, whether you were gasping or just talking, obviously annoying the people left, right, front and back. They could see two heads touching, whispering something. His cologne invaded your nose, warm breath fanning the shell of your ear, saying something to you. You couldn't respond, sexual tension present, until he shook you, urging himself away from kissing you. A light one, like a peck on the cheek. You were so close and he felt like taking you home, telling you how he felt and undressing you, so many things to unwrap. The former was obvious. In an empty space in the hall, long after everyone was gone, you resumed what you couldn't after being busy all week long. You urgently kiss him, feeling his taste on your tongue, like last week. You only look up to see if there's anyone in there but you brain is running a hundred simulations at once and nothing seems dangerous enough so you continue, breaths and hands, hot and heavy on one another. You gasp, he's pulling the material of your dress up and feeling your backside, pressing you against his bulge. You tug open his belt and slide down on your knees and you are sure, absolutely, that someone has walked through the door just now. It's not the door to the space that you are in but beyond that, somewhere else, you aren't concerned. You leave a trail of saliva on his cock and pump him a few times, looking at him, peering up, knowing the effect you have on him. He's not keen on your teasing, prolonging, he fists your hair and guides his cock into your mouth. All the way to the back, your hands grip his thighs and squeeze, gagging at the intrusion in between your lips but you like it, reaching for your clit and rubbing, sighing in relief at the ache. He pulls out and fills your mouth again and he's thinking of the warmth, how good you feel there but there's impatience in his nature. He can't help it, he pulls you up and wipes the tears from your eyes, bending you over a bare table. It's a rush to take off your underwear and stuff it in his pockets, entering you without warning till he's sheathed to the hilt, having you gasp and cry out at the stretch. He kisses you hard on the mouth and then covers the noises you make, bringing your chest up, back to his chest, thrusting into your heat, saying, ''Be good for me, okay? Keep quiet.'',

trailing off to moan into your ear. You nod, crying in his hand, trying to keep the noises at bay, easy compliance which he finds hot, he didn't know you had this in you. You release your juices around his cock, slumping on the table whose corners you've gripped really hard, loosening it, whimpering, fumbling for his wrists, you feel overstimulated. ''Hold on, I'm there, alright dove?'' he coos, fucking you once, twice and then through his release, milking your insides. He tugs your dress down and his trousers up and you turn over and slip into his arms, kissing him, love over lust, giggling together and going home together.

Dawon I Lee Sanghyuk:

Simple, he's come home from work, exhausted but not too much to drop and you are preoccupied by your thoughts, about him. He takes you into his arms, sitting by the edge of the bed, upright, you grow needier as you straddle him. But you could wait. The kisses grow needier, passionate, like melting your bodies against one another, that feeling is present, every time. He pulls back for a breather and touches your foreheads, it's cute and makes you smile, tugging on his suit jacket which he takes as a sign to remove. ''What'd you want to do?'' he asks. His voice is soft and envelopes only the space between the two of you despite this being your house with no one else in it. ''Sit here'' and his lower belly stirs in arousing mystery, he knows what you have in mind, much more significance present whether or not you put it into words. You get off him and stand less than arm length away, taking off your clothes. He watches hungrily, taking in every detail connected with your body for example the way the fabric moves when you slip it off. You are graceful with it. You could be hasty and he would still find it sensual, he loves you naked. There isn't much to remove, just a shirt, no bra and panties. His mouth goes dry when you are only in your panties. He loves when you sleep like that. You gasp, biting down on your bottom lip, he tugs you closer to him and reaches out for the space between your legs, rubbing your clit over the material, evoking such beautiful sensations that have you curling at the knees. But first, as much as you want to go on, you nod and he takes his hand away, giving you a small smile as you get on your knees, never leaving his eyes, his intense gaze. When you are on your knees, in between his legs, he takes the liberty of grasping the back of your head and kissing you, leaning down to kiss you, he loves doing this every time and explains it as power play. Fuck, you think about how hot it is, his dominance over you. You sit on your heels, hands obediently on your knees, staring at his fingers working on taking his cock out. All the while, he thinks of your behaviour, observing your patience, your submission, heavy turn-ons for him. Your core is aching, in waiting, you had grown more aroused. Has it been the waiting or the change in atmosphere? He spits on his hand and pumps himself a few times and then slowly guides your mouth onto it, not giving you a chance to adjust to the intrusion in your mouth before pulling back and filling your mouth up again. Tears spill from your eyes, you gag on his cock as it hits the back of your throat but you don't object or touch him, instead fisting your hands on your knees and allow him to use your mouth. Next, he will use your core. So many thoughts, you are leaking in your panties when he moans out, ''You're doing so well.'', turning your cheeks pink and urging yourself to do even more better. You look up at his expression, nearly crying from the pleasure you are able to give him. ''Look at yourself baby, fuck, I'm fucking you dumb aren't I? Just a little slut to be used, on my cock.'' he turns you towards the small mirror on the floor, not far from the bed, leaning against the wall and big enough for you to see yourself in it. His words make you nod, he is pleased at the agreement in your eyes. He pulls you off his cock, watching a trail of saliva connect the tip of his cock and your open mouth, greedily sucking in air as if you had not been breathing moments before. He makes you keep silent by having you moan and cry out into his hand that covers your mouth, controlling the volume of your sounds as he pounds into you from behind, fully filling you to the brim, ''I know baby, I like using you.''. When he cleans the two of you up, he joins you in bed where hours later, you cock warms him, giggling and laughing about your day when he tells jokes and pinches your nipples, giving you precious love bites.

Rowoon I Kim Seokwoo:

Seokwoo is hovering above you, smiling like crazy. This is the first time you entrust yourselves to each other, sexually. From stripping each other of one's clothes and feverishly pressing kisses in all the right places, you've held back- in the back of his car while watching the fireworks, on the sofa strapped to the back of his truck when you helped him change house and last week, when he appeared all sheepish, ringing the bell and pressing you against the door with loving, I-want-to-make-love-to-you kisses after you told him that your parents were out. You stare at him, soaking in his expressions. Your clothes are on and as much as the two of you have eagerly waited for this moment, you start to relish it in. To take in all the details of your first night together. How did you end up here? That was a good question now for the night appeared faster than the day. The memories of the morning enlighten but here, here there is a different glow. Particularly the light from outside, bathing it's yellow's and orange's on your precious bodies, day illuminating your sight of one another. He sees a flash of nervousness in your eyes or ''This...'', not sure how you want to put it into words to which he instantly caresses your arms, gently, every so slowly, locking your lips in a soft, passionate embrace like he wants to tell you a million words made of the bright morning star and dark evening silvers combined. It sparks a need within you, in between primal and not, fucking loving. Heat slowly growing in you, you pull him back to your lips, touching your body, lips, legs to his, entangling. There the fire grows or perhaps, the heat. Heart of heart, hand in hand, you straighten up, sitting on your backside instead of laying and conscious of each other's movements, he moves back till he is on his back, head having not met the bed sheets purely in favour of seeing what you are about to do. One could say that he is curious, like a cat with it's ears poking up to the sound of a doorbell or wrapper crinkling. The latter for later, you think, grinning. He bites his lip, mouth almost asking, ''What are you doing baby?'' to which you say, ''Just you wait'', reading the words from lips. ''I can wait'' he says, almost saying, I've waited for so long, I can wait!. You think that he's cute, never more before than at this moment. The last time you were here, he was the one in this position. You move to in between his legs, trailing your fingers over his legs, toppling his nerves over the edge. Before he can move, which the movement resembles a jerk upwards, you push him back down, reassuring him. First with a kiss to his collarbone, travelling to deliver another kiss to his lips, cutting to the chase, ''Relax'', soothingly, ''I've got you.'', relaxing him till you see his expression soften and him nod, holding your arms. Then you go down, never letting go off the link between your eyes, core tingling with the buzzing of arousal as you pull his boxers off his legs, allowing his fully hard cock to spring from the previous confines. It's a sight to behold, right in front of you, mouth parting in awe at his cock. He looks at you nervously for a second and then thinks that he shouldn't have to be, he's safe with you, more than comfortable and he could sink into it; that's how you make him feel. He smiles when you reach for his hand, entwining your fingers, giving a little squeeze before you release, coating spit with your fingers and palm and spreading it across his cock, including his precum with a swipe. When you first touch him, he flinches but not in a bad way, it's a little unexpected but nothing to be worried about. He instantly calms, his heart racing all the same, throwing his head back and letting a groan escape him when he feels the warmth of your mouth envelope him. It's enough to throw him a blissful state, to think that the whole situation makes him giddy. He wants you, loves you and he has to tell you that (again). You suck him off with the bobs of your head, hair swishing with very fill of his cock in between your lip, you

take a look more than every once in a while, twice to know his reactions. To see him pleased makes you chuckle, the vibrations tickling his spine, slightly lifting his lower back off the bed, that type of sensation. It sends waves of the sea to his mind, he's lost in the pleasure you give to him. His eyes snap open when he feels it coming, he hurries to tell you before you let him tumble over the edge, bordering past the realm of intense sensuality, ''Wait-'', ''What is it?'' you ask, already thinking, knowing. ''I want to'', pause, ''be in you before I come'' said with determination which makes you nod furiously, smiling at him with giddiness. ''Huh?'', leaves your lips in confusion but you shouldn't. High standards, you think because you know that he will give it to you. Silver clouds, silver clouds. He nods, forgetting to tell you that he wants to have you on your back and eat you out. ''You know that time, when we were almost about to?'' you nod at his questions, fully aware at the memories that spring, fresh to the mind. They make you even more excited. ''This, I've wanted to do this for a long time.'' he says, eyes losing their innocence that you are so used to, taking on a darker form, not literally but the expression behind them. He wants to devour you and as much as you find that phrase funny, it's true. He's already in between your legs, licking a stripe, much to your back that lifts off the bed in a bed of arousal and that luscious moan that you let out, it fills his ears like music and urges him to continue on, till you've spilled on his tongue, crying out his name.

Zuho I Baek Juho:

He was irked by you, especially at first. ''Be cordial'' he said, the words that his mother always repeated to him when he couldn't instantly connect or figure out someone's personality. He didn't have to understand the world, yet he set out too. And you knew it, his curiosity and you thought that someday, it would land him in trouble. Wrong people, the police would say, sighing at the unfortunate instance of a man that landed in hot waters with the arduous gang in the area. ''Ran his mouth and look what happened'', the other police officer would say, letting out another sigh. But over time, you let this prejudice you had of him, dwindle. Now, you want to protect this person, at least to the best of your ability. His breath was taken away when he first saw you. He was also a fumbling person with a clumsy nature which he couldn't help but he could play his cards right, yes? Around you, he wasn't so sure. He was enticed by you, purely by his perception of beauty. But, not only because you are beautiful, you connect to people like that. Only this time, he felt as if children were deciding your fate, playing and dabbling your meetings in juvenility. You had seen him fall on his backside, getting up in an admirable manner; spill food on himself, did he need a bib? It was minor, cute occurrences to you which he thought of in distaste. He was a sweet guy, considerate because he would always think of other people, like telling you that he found a melody he composed which reminded him of you or bringing food for a heart-broken-by-their-ex-and-crying-terribly friend. You knew each other plenty. Your friends felt as if you needed a push and there came one, in a way that neither of you expected. No one knew about it after the event. Now that you are in bed on your day off, cuddling with Ju while watching a show together, giving live commentary in each other's ears while the mood calls for other things which forget the tv, you chuckle. But to recall, it's from a couple of years ago: at a party, you secure a room, purely by surprise do you stumble in there. You are buzzed, Ju walks out from the bathroom adjoining the room, looking at you with wide eyes, pausing in his step. ''What are you doing in here?'', ''What-?'' collide from your mouths in a frenzy. The room grows hot, maybe it's just your embarrassment that you can't stand straight. But he manages to catch you, taking huge steps with his arms extended just so your bottom does not hit the ground. You thank him and ask him to give you some space which you find comical. He's looking at you with worry plus, you are leaning against the door which he wants to walk past but is he going to say something? probably not. ''I'm good'', ''You sure?'', ''Yea why?'' and then something and then he drops you home. He chuckles to your fast-asleep, softly-snoring self, finding you just a tinsy bit adorable then. ''Thank you Ju'', ''It's okay'' he says, nonchalantly, ''Hey'', ''Yea?'', ''I want to try something'' you are smiling now, he's genuinely curious. You kiss him on the cheek and make your way out, not sure what to say, not sure whether to turn back. The next time he sees you, he kisses you.

Library sex? The most unrealistic because Ju can't keep his breathy moans to himself and the shelf, I don't think they can handle such forces ad the people? 911. But I didn't end up writing a blowjob into that story like I had planned, instead I have something to share: sucking Ju off in a library when's he trying to find a book/reading? It's hot, very, maybe it stems from yours and Ju's excitement, extra energy meshing in such a way that after an intense make-out session by the end of a bookshelf, you get on your knees and suck him off, arousal surging in your body and watching his expressions of pleasure. I guess the equally hotter thing would be if he pulled you up and made you sit on a table, bunching your bottoms wherever and getting on his knees, ''I'll make you feel happy'' which makes you think, is he drunk off excitement?. Surely yes, he chuckles when he hears your whimpers, entwining one hand that you squeeze every time his fingers touch your sweet spots.

Yoo Taeyang:

Because I'm a sap, every story here is more or less a love story anon!

Here's my train of thought: You drop off your keys on the table, stretching your neck from a short journey of driving but a long day of work, hoisting your arms up into the air, discarding your clothes in the hamper or wherever, calling out, ''Taeyang?''. ''I'm in here!'', he responds, namely the bedroom. You can already imagine him on his side of the bed, laptop on lap, maybe picking out a pub to go to and a movie for movie night, in his joggers and lose t-shirt. You are right, after all, it has been three and a half million years since you married this man. You walk right into your shared bedroom with only your underwear on. Taeyang distracts himself by occupying you on his mind, seeing your backside when you bend to pick something up from your closet. ''This isn't a porno Taeyang, I can feel your eyes on my butt.'' you murmur disapprovingly. ''I'm sorry'' he says, ignoring the way his groin stirs. You climb on the bed, moving towards him. Bigger the bed, bigger the journey to your favourite person's arms. A smaller bed would do, smaller distance then. ''How was your day?'', ''So we are doing this huh? It was good, thank you for asking.'', ''Tell me about it.'' he says, laughing, pulling you into his arms. You recount your memories, picking the funny ones. You sink into his arms, almost falling asleep. ''What did you do today?'' you ask, wanting to hear a funny story. ''I went to shop groceries, I met the housewives from two blocks over, I wanted to dash but I couldn't'', ''Why?'' you chuckle, continuing, ''Why did you want to dash?''. Taeyang has no interest in people except the you and neighbours and for a while, you've been encouraging him to make friends outside the radius of your area, if he's comfortable with it. ''They seem to judge very quickly, I can't stand stuff like that. Anyways, we got to know one another and now we have a reservation to eat at their pub next Thursday. If you are not okay, we can cancel it.'', he slows down at the last part ''Really?!'', you exclaim, you are extra-extra-extra happy for him. He's making friends! ''Is it that one we wanted to go to but couldn't?'' you ask, and he marvels at your excitement with a smile and gleaming eyes, thinking suspiciously that he does want to go there but, at what cost? He wants to go with you, not them. It's a beautiful train of thought. After the conversation, you lie in silence, peaceful as he shuts off his laptop and turns his attention to you. It starts with the hands on your waist, ''Pretty'', they move to your back, entering your shirt and snapping open your bra which by then, he's already kissing you, telling you that he wants you, intimately, especially with the way he's moulding his lips against yours, groaning into your mouth. ''Let me have you?'' is his question, you nod. he caresses your backside and then your cheek, legs on either side of your head, filling your mouth with his cock. It's a careful situation, he goes slow and with caution so as to not hurt you, it takes a while to set the rhythm which is fine by both, you want this but not by hurting yourselves. You've got a wide view of him and even a little eye contact sets him off, with a steady rhythm, he is throbbing with arousal, moaning at the way your mouth takes him. When it's the opposite, he prefers you stand or lean against a wall and that he is on his knees with his fingers deep inside of you, plunging in to meet your sweet spots while he sucks and licks your clit. Your view is so pretty, he always starts with little kitten licks, like it's his first time and then he buries his tongue in between your folds, lapping up every little juice he can find. It ends with you either riding him or on your hands and knees as he takes you from behind.

The true ending is when you cuddle after a second round and he refuses to get up because he wants to stay with you but eventually the knowing-better side of him wins and you take a shower together, the equally intimate situation out of everything. He rubs the knots on your shoulders away and gives you the best message to your scalp ever, it's soothing and this time you almost fall asleep (hehe). He also loves it when you do it for him: lather his body in soap and run your hands along it; knead the knots of tension in certain parts of his body, maybe his lower back or calves due to dancing all day and shampooing his hair while he rests on his chest (with his back to your chest or even curled up in between your legs, with his head on your tummy). If the two of you are up for it, he'll pour some wine or champagne or whatever it is that you both prefer and sit on the opposite side of the tub with your legs on his, probably massaging your sore legs after a long day of work and have the best conversations with you.

Hwiyoung I Kim Youngkyun:

Gentle baby

Let me elaborate: It goes without saying that you are his favourite person. Without hesitation (he can't help it), he'll smile when he sees you, even if you are just passing by, perhaps in a hurry or not, he has to smile at you and have a little conversation, ''Hey, what are you up to?'', ''Really?'' when you tell him and just like that, he has every reason to smile, to get that little boost you give him. Every conversation you have with him is fruitful for example, he loves inviting you to drink beer with him and if you don't like it but can tolerate it like me, he's absolutely open to trying new things like a wine tasting session and some people are drunk by the end but he's doing that thing, whereby his hand is hovering behind your back and he's cautious to pull you out of being dashed if a drunk person stumbles in your way. His eyes twinkle when he speaks to you, a gleam not malicious but out of curiosity to know you even more, he likes you, now what? When you weren't officially together, he felt as if he couldn't give you hugs as openly as he wanted to, maybe out of shyness, maybe out of hesitancy especially if you didn't like it. But he got to that point where he was comfortable around you, enough to side hug you when he met you, front hug when he met you but wanted to cuddle and back hugs for surprise. Take those three and apply them to the now, those are his ways of showing you affection. He loves to have you in his arms, close to you, no matter what mood he is in, if he's feeling gloomy, he'll fall into your arms when you pull him in for a hug and lean on your shoulder, nestling his head in between your neck particularly if he's not feeling okay. He loves you with all his heart! When you first have sex and all the times after that, you figure out that he's not rough neither does he have that capability to do that to you. If you want to, he'll try it out but sometimes, he'll slip back into loving you, holding your hands above your head when you release, gently coaxing an extra release one from you when he's eating you out on a day when you came back home tired. There's a lot to unpack here but don't worry, I got it~ On a day when you are tired, he'll love to eat you out, when you are on the sofa and you legs dangle of the edge, he'll sit there and dive his head in between your legs. He'll want to hold your hands when he hears you whimper or cry out his name, squeezing them in comfort as if to say, ''You are so great baby, you're doing so well, release when you want to.'' but don't forget, he going to absolutely tease you! Like, ''baby, there's something on your cheek'', ''huh?-oh'' and playfully push him as he takes you into his arms. It's your tears when he was pleasuring you. He not averted to the idea of you sucking him off when he's tired because he wants to cuddle you but in the morning! oh, if you suck him when you wake up, oh god. How does he handle it? He's moaning in no time, in your eyes it is quite exquisite to see, his expression in a haze, fluttering to the pleasure he's receiving, on some mornings, he comes faster than you've anticipated. To see you with a lack of clothes, he's turning you under him and placing kisses all over your body, slowly removing his jumper on yours to reveal your body. Trust me, he loves your body and if you aren't, he'll try to bring you into your element, it's okay if you aren't comfortable with your body but when you are, he'll move to your beat such as letting you ride his face after you sucked him that very morning. Or if you have a different dynamic, he would also love if you punished him (your dom side makes him nod like a compliant pretty boy, mewling to your orders) by not letting him touch you, he's going to be sulky then, ''I can't touch you?'', ''uh-huh'', ''why?'', ''It's your little punishment'', he proceeds to put his hands all over you, including slipping in between your folds just to prove his point that he doesn't like your punishment. He can be compliant but also act out, he thinks he's a bad boy~~ His favourite is to take you over the counter

but let's not lie here, he's perfectly happy with you sucking him off by the counter too, it's one of his favourite places in the house to have sex with you and he'll gladly return the favour by placing you it, on your back and coax one or two releases out of you. Then he may take you to the sofa, ''I know that you can do this baby'', ''Kyunnie?'', ''do you want to come back to this later on?'', ''It's okay'', ''you sure?'', was your conversation the first time around he had nearly coxed three to four releases out of you. He is proud of you, especially when he enters your warmth and settles beside you, slowly thrusting his hips against yours, filling you up and releasing into you, making love to you all the while.

Chani:

Expect all the love from him too, anon!

The fan, the acoustic ventilator and the window are all open, letting in fresh air from outside and circulating it in into your room. Not less than a couple of moments ago had Chani woken up and wrinkled his nose, shaking his head in groan that, ''You need to open the window y/n, otherwise the fan is only going to circulate the warm air that is in this room.''. You are fast asleep, feeling extra warm but asleep, regardless. When Chani was content with opening the sources that would cool the room, he sighed in relief and took of his shirt that was stained with sweat, tossing in into the hamper and getting into bed with you. ''It's too hot.'' you mumble, the stickiness of the humidity has perforated any desires of wanting to sleep in his arms. But Chani has other plans, he waits for you to adjust your position to one of laying on your back and then he proceeds to lay on your bare tummy, growing that baby smile of his when you clear the hair from his face and embrace him. ''If we go out, it'll be cooler.'', ''okay'' he mumbles, not liking the idea of moving one bit but he knows that it must be cooler outside, if not staying within these four walls. Neither of you move and moments later, the both of you have fallen asleep, softly snoring. Chani moves up to where your head is, you wake up with his hand splayed all over you. He's awake, only slightly, gazing at you through his fluttering eyelids, cheekily smiling, from one dimple to the other, you decide that you know what's on his mind from the way his hands move all over your body. The heat has simmered down, albeit momentarily before it rises again to make way for the sweltering afternoon heat. He caresses your side, lifting himself to place kisses all over your tummy + if you were doing it for the first time as a couple and if you have stretch marks, he would run his fingers over them and tell you, ''Don't be shy, they are pretty.'', the last words would be said with finality, with determination that you should know about the marks that cover your body make up your beauty as well. You are beautiful, he's trying to say. He would kiss your stretch marks, wherever they are (breasts, hands, legs, hips, back, wherever) even placing a light bite upon the area, proud that he has managed to elicit a chuckle, ''What are you doing?'' is your response and a stress-free posture as you lie in his arms. He wouldn't know how to say it properly but you would understand through his actions that like tattoos, your stretch marks are personal to you, they make up you and that there's nothing wrong with them, that they should be loved instead of following the social taboo against them. He trails kisses to your sex, experimentally lapping at the wetness and warmth you have to offer. He doesn't waste time, simply pulling out lube and warming up your sex with it, adding a finger or two. ''Babe'', ''Hmm?'', ''Stop here'', you say, grasping his hand. With that, he places his hands on the sides of your head, hovering over you, asking, ''How's my favourite girl doing huh?'' while kissing your temple when placing a condom on himself and entering you. He responds to your moans with some of his, revelling in the feeling of his cock within you. It's towards the end when he's got you in his arms, on the bed, facing one another, in an intimate embrace, tuning in to the sounds and immense feelings of one another that he pulls away, chuckling when he hears a whine from you. It's not a little whine either, ''Chani'' you mumble, grumbling yet excited, the latter which he can see all the same, ''Come here baby'' he murmurs in response, with a hint of a command, you know what that it's a give and take. You get on your knees and suck him off, gripping onto to the covers for the position that you are in is not the best because you can't multitask or ask. You go on till he tells you to pull out and you sit opposite each other, ''This isn't our first time trying it'' you laugh out'', you say, laughing which he mirrors, ''I know, I like watching you when we do this.'', ''What the-'', you start, he's laughing again

but

with that crinkly-at-the-eyes and smiling widely, gums-showing, heart-stopping type of laugh that you pause your fingers at your core, not realising that you are smiling as widely as him. It's the effect you have on each other. At the same time, you both call it, automatically. He's sitting opposite you, within an arms lengths, touching himself, stroking himself to the bring of a release and beyond, while you, you that he can see, that he wants to reach out to but is equally content watching you finger yourself and stimulate your clit to a similar, high-energy-taking release. Since the first time you've done this, the both of you have been drawn to watch or not, concentrating with your eyes shut or with encouraging eyes that also stimulate, greatly, ''You can do this babe, you are doing so well'', said by either of you, smiling when you see the other release. Afterwards, he'll just want to collapse into your arms, not letting go, energy spent well in the morning. In the kitchen, he'll brew a coffee or tea for you, cuddling you in his arms, spending this valuable time in silence, occasionally telling you a funny situation that had occurred when he was at work.