#he deserves a fishing trip once in a while

[sardonicribbons]

First early catch of the summer ⭐️

[slaughter-kin]

the 141 as dads

captain john price-

• this man is would be such a good dad

• we all know for a fact this man has a breeding kink so i see him having like 3/4 kids

• waking up early in the morning and eating bowls of cereal watching old cartoon re runs with them

• would start smoking outside or exclusively in his office because he doesn’t want that around them

• type of dad in his retirement to coach his kids football/soccer team

• the best for laying the child on his chest, humming as they fall asleep

• would be super interested in what his children’s interest are (this goes for all of them but i’m putting it here)

• takes his kids on camping and fishings trips

• loves to play hide-n-seek with his kids

• his kids would mock his actions and stand in front of the tv with his hands behind his back, and when they are napping on the couch his kid would also start snoring cause we all know this man snores LOUDLY

• type of dad whenever his kids mention they like eating something once he buys like 5 boxes of it

• would cry they say their first word no matter what is is

• loves taking them to the park

kyle ‘gaz’ garrick-

• okay literally the best dad ever

• i could see him with like 2 or 3 kids

• MATCHING OUTFITS

• if he had girls he would 1000% learn all kind of cute braid styles for them

• when he found out his spouse was pregnant he would be shocked but happy and would immediately buy 100 what to expect when you’re expecting books

• would hate when he kids got into trouble cause he would hate laying the law down but would sit them down and talk every calm but firm

• then would go into another room and be like 🥺

• would NEVER get angry with his kids

• all the mothers would flirt with him in the pickup line at school and he just ignores it

• he thinks his children deserve the entire world

• his kids call Price grandpa

• will blow raspberries on their stomachs until they they can’t stop giggling

• takes 1000 photos of his kids doing anything and then spam sends them to his spouse

• got so nauseous the first time he changed a diaper

• family halloween outfits

john ‘soap’ mactavish-

• such a fun dad

•pillow forts

• ice cream for breakfast

• if he had a son/sons he would cut their hair in the mohawk style as well

• would want so many children omg

• he comes from a big family so i think he would want one as well

• but if his spouse didn’t want a big family he would be okay with it

• if you’ve watched modern family he would be like phil dunphy

• would put his kids on those kid leashes whenever they go anywhere

• i feel like one thing he would struggle with is saying no to his children

• would always help them with their math and science homework

• type of dad to do push ups while his kids are sitting in his back and they are all giggling

• the proudest dad ever! is at every dance recital or sports game or talent show and if he can’t be (because of his job) he would ask all about it when he got home and even if they did poorly he would still tell them how proud of them he is and go her ice cream

•TICKLE FIGHTS

• it would also tear him up if couldn’t be there during a special event for his children

• i also feel like he would cry at major life milestones

• if his children/kid are into sports all you can hear at games is him yelling across the field

simon ‘ghost’ riley-

• GIRL DAD SIMON GIRL DAD SIMON GIRL DAD SIMON

• just imagine him with a pink baby holder strapped to his chest

• he would be such a good father omg

• with his past with his father he would be super scared at first but then as he’s holding this tiny infant he would get angry (not at child obviously) cause how could anyone treat their child the way his father treated him?

• would be super protective of his children (i mean all of them would tbh)

• as cute as it is for the baby to wear little skull head clothing, i don’t think he would want his children knowing ‘Ghost’.

• i think one thing he would struggle with is when his kids throw tantrums when it’s over something ridiculous like he wouldn’t let them pull their siblings hair or eat something gross off the floor and he doesn’t know how to deal with them. he doesn’t want to get to firm and scare them and he doesn’t want to give into such ridiculous things so he would kinda back away and look at you for help

• his kids would 1000% get his accent

• loves to lift them up with his arms, whooshing them around like they are a super hero

• has tea parties with his kids and their stuffed animals on a regular basis

• such a big softie for his children/child are you kidding me

• his children/kid use him as like a jungle gym and are usually hanging off his arms

• would never tell them what he does for work and when they ask he would just say ‘work’

i would give any of these men children or all of them

let me know if you have any feedback!!

[hyunnie04]

summary: changbin loves to spoil you, but you won’t let him.

pairing: changbin x gn! reader

word count: 1117 words

warning: small mention of financial insecurities

genre: fluff

a/n: hi! this is my first drabble/short fic on this blog, i know its a little rough around the edges but i hope you guys like it anyways! any feed back is welcomed ^^

a more recent a/n; i edited this a bit at the end just to make it more coherent!

im having binnie brainrot atm excuse me

------

changbin has always been an observant person. when you and changbin first started dating, he began to notice something you did often. 

when you two would go out to run some errands together, or just simply go out on a date- it would be almost a routine that you two would just walk around, looking at clothes and or just looking at necessities for your shared apartment. changbin trails behind you, glancing and observing some of the random paraphernalia on the shelf.    

you smile at the white knit sweater that you have been eyeing since earlier this year, feeling it’s nice and soft material between your fingers. oh how you wish you could bring it home, but you knew better. your wallet and your conscience was practically yelling at you to not spend a single dime on stuff you probably don't need. you suddenly feel changbin’s gaze on your figure. 

“you like that sweater?” he tilts his head towards the article of clothing, adjusting his thick black frame resting on his nose bridge.

you knew that look, his eyebrows raising in question. he wants to buy it for you. putting the piece of fabric back in it's place, you turn to him and smile. “i-no, it’s alright.” he stares at you again, making you tilt your head at him. “but you’ve been eyeing that sweater every time we pass this place.” 

“you should get it.” he continues and smiles at you. “i’ll get it some other time. I don't… have the money right now.” you lie, voice much smaller. shaking your head and waving him off, you continue to browse the isles. he strides after you, confused. “i can get it for you, you know.”

“bin, it's okay, really.” you smile and insist. you hope that he wouldn’t press on the topic anymore. his keen eyes notice once again when you hold up a ceramic cup with a silly design that he knows you love, but after staring at it for a good minute, you quickly put it back down. changbin sighs and makes a mental note of the things you were eyeing. he’d just have to make an impromptu trip back to this shop once he has some free time.

-

now back at home, you sigh and plop down on the plush couch. your feet are just aching from the miles and miles you two have walked the entire day. changbin presses a kiss onto your forehead and beelines it to the bathroom. grumbling about how he has to pee. you laugh.

after a while, the rumbling in your stomach signals you to finally get up and make dinner for the both of you. shuffling to the kitchen, you start with opening the stove and chopping up some veggies. a strong pair of arms suddenly engulf you from behind, startling you.

“bin! i am holding a knife, don’t startle me like that.” you laugh as he starts to trail kisses on the column of your neck. he chuckles and rests his head on your shoulder for a moment. it takes a while before he starts swaying you side to side without saying anything. you've known him for so long to know when he has something on his mind.

"what's on your mind, honey?" you hum, putting the greens into the pan. "i should be asking you that." confused, you tilt your head at his answer.

"why won't you let me buy you stuff?" you glance at him, he leans on the counter and continues, "i mean- it's just that you've been holding off buying stuff for yourself for so long. you deserve a little splurging y'know."

mouth gaping like a fish out of water, you shut your mouth and continue to stir the pan.

“now, tell me why my baby doesn’t want me to spoil them?” you deflate at his words, knowing this conversation was about to happen sooner or later. 

aside from wanting to save some money on things you probably don't need part, you grew up with this feeling- having to be ashamed of people spending their money on you, you were determined not to make changbin an exception. accepting help from others growing up meant that there we're feelings of being a bother- feelings of being a waste of time.

years and years of conditioning yourself has lead you into believing whatever mental gymnastics you did inside your head was the absolute truth, no matter how absurd it sounded. maybe your strict upbringing also had a hand in it. that's the way it's always been.

so you explain to him. in all your vulnerability, all the while stirring your hot pan of stir fry.

“but i like doing this for you.” he stresses. changbin moves to rub your shoulder affectionately in an attempt to further reassure you.

biting your lip, “i just feel guilty.” you probably say for the umpteenth time. looking at him, you open your mouth to speak but is immediately cut off, “baby, please." he sighs, and turns off the stove from behind.

"why don't we come up with a compromise?" your buff boyfriend smiles at you. "like what?"

"tell you what, if you let me buy you something you want," he leans incredibly close to you, his breath fanning your face. "you'll get a kiss from me." you blush at his proximity and furrow your eyebrows at him, his grin widening by the minute.

"how is that a compromise?" you say after mulling it over.

"well," he starts, hands trailing and drawing simple shapes on your forearms. "you would get kisses and... and...." you look at him with your eyebrows raised, now very interested in his defense.

"and?"

"ah whatever!" he groans and burrows his reddening face into your neck. you chuckle and run your hands through his black hair, comforting your poor whining binnie.

"please just please let me spoil you!" he throws his hands up in defeat. changbin gives up his argument and grabs both of your hands, making his best pleading face. you can't help but laugh at your boyfriend's ridiculous sudden 180 turn. binnie continues to do his over the top aegyo at you, hoping you would crack.

"o-okay. alright! you win." you reluctantly agree with his constant pleading, his puppy eyes certainly winning you over. you turn to plate the poor neglected stir fry on the pan as he lets go of your hands and hug you from behind.

"but seriously- i'm really, really not bothered. and again, i like doing this for you- correction, i love doing this for you. so please let me?"

"...alright." you grin, already feeling lighter about the whole thing.

"thank you for putting up with me."

"anytime, honey."

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

august

a summer in dunbrook, part three

a/n: and to close it all off, let them have a horny camping trip. it's what they deserve.

summary: once you’d reached your spot, set up the tent and the stars were all twinkling in the sky, you and Frank savoured the mild summer evening sitting by the campfire where your fluffy ball of fur had also found a comfortable corner. 

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, sequel to lilac, smut, lumberjack AU, camping, roasting marshmallows, kissing, size kink, dirty talk, oral, manhandling, hair pulling, impact play, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (because this is just porn. no one is getting pregnant, I’m just craving the intimacy. let them be hoes and live out the fantasy)

word count: 3121

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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“All I’m saying is that maybe we wait just one more day before we go home,” Frank said as he slammed the car door shut behind him. 

Readjusting your grip on Enzo’s leash, you blinked up at Frank as he tugged on the big backpack stuffed with supplies. 

“One more day?” you cocked a brow, “you just feel like camping one day more than we planned? Making the trip just that little bit longer so that you–, oh yeah, so that you miss the summer barbeque that you’ve been acting like a toddler about.” 

“I haven’t been–,” he scoffed, though swiftly dropped it with a heavy huff, “look, is it really that bad that I’d rather spend my time with you and Enzo than sit through hours of small talk?” he pleaded as you began to tread away from the parked vehicle, through the wilderness you’d arrived at. 

“No, but I don’t wanna miss it,” you said. Letting out a sigh, you took a step closer to him and caught his wide palm, “look, you don’t have to come along if it’s really that terrible,” your fingers offered his a squeeze to underline your statement, “I love you, I’m not gonna force you.”

Glancing over at you, he caught your eye and offered you the faintest of smiles, “thank you.”

“But,” you stretched out the vowel as if you were blowing a piece of bubble gum, “I’m just saying that you might regret it, you might miss some really fun shenanigans.” 

“Yeah,” he huffed in response, “I bet.”

“Hey, I know he didn’t last year, but I’m crossing my fingers that this year, Otto gets super drunk on Donna’s punch again and starts thinking he’s a drag queen. I know he’s the sheriff, but he can really get put on a good show when the mood strikes and he thinks he’s twenty again.” 

Once you’d reached your spot, set up the tent and the stars were all twinkling in the sky, you and Frank savoured the mild summer evening sitting by the campfire where your fluffy ball of fur had also found a comfortable corner. 

“Oh,” you then suddenly stirred from your trance-like state, ripping your stare away from the flames, “I almost forgot!”

Scrambling off the stout log you’d used to sit on, you ripped open the flap of the tent directly behind you and crawled inside. 

Glancing over his shoulder, half with an amused grin and half checking out your ass, Frank watched as you tore open the backpack and fished out an item. 

Hiding it behind your spine, you didn’t reveal it before you’d returned to your seat. 

“Tada!” you presented your contribution to the camping trip. 

“Marshmallows,” Frank couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. 

“You have to! You simply have to,” you declared as you ripped the plastic open. 

As you let yourself munch on one straight out of the bag, you watched as Frank picked up a few suitable twigs from the forest floor below, fished a swiss army knife out of his pocket and prepped them into the perfect utensils for the job.

The art of roasting marshmallows was something you’d perfected as a child. Getting them just right so that their outer shell got completely caramelised and golden brown, while the entire innards were rendered a sweet gooey mess. 

That fine skill was sadly not something Frank possessed, or perhaps cared about as deeply as you did. It nearly shocked you to horrors to watch him burn the little candy till it looked like a lump of coal, only to eat it without a care in the world as if it hadn’t been utterly ruined. 

So in order to prove to him just how wrong he was in his indifference, just how good they could be when done just right, you roasted him one to the utmost perfection.

“Alright,” you uttered when you retracted the stick from the flames. Carefully pulling it off the widdled twig, you held it out for him, though noted just before he enclosed his mouth around it, “careful, it’s hot.” 

As you studied his expression for traces of your victory, you popped your sticky fingers in your mouth, licking them clean one by one. 

Frank however also seemed to gaze back at you, though the heated stare that traced your innocent digits flew completely over your head as that wasn’t what you so intently were searching for. 

“So?” you impatiently poked in between cleaning the sugar off of your skin, “how is it?”

Swallowing the treat, he then hummed, “yeah, it’s good,” his eyes still glued to you. 

“Just good?” you cocked your head, “not amazing, incredible, your life will never be the same?” you listed off and then finally noticed just how intense his stare was, “what?” your voice seemed to shrink as you dropped the jest, “do I have some on my face?”

“No…” he shook his head lightly as one of your palms shot up to wipe the corner of your mouth. 

“Then what is it? Why are you staring at me like that?”

“I just love you, is all,” he breathed, “you’re very cute,” his soft smirk grew wider as he then added, “especially when you don’t realise the dirty things you do.”

A giggle then erupted from your lungs, “what did I do?” and continued to bubble out of you even as he began to lean in, “what?” 

But instead of filling you in, he simply pressed his lips to yours. 

It was soft at first, peppering you with pecks as your laughter slowly faded away. But then when your chuckling had come to a close and no longer vibrated against his lips, he let go of his gentleness and gave in to the desire that was about to burst. 

Slipping his tongue past your lips, a low groan flowed from him and melted against yours as they danced against one another. His broad palm only stayed on your cheek a moment longer before it soared down your frame, his other hand too joining in the exploration of your curves. 

You nearly couldn’t keep track of his touch as it wandered wildly, grabbing at every place that made you all tingly inside. Though, at one point when you thought you might fall off your makeshift seat, you actually did, or rather, Frank’s grasp slid down to your bottom and scooped you closer, so close in fact that you now found yourself half kneeling on the forest floor, between his thick thighs where he remained seated, and arching up to keep your lips still attached.

As one of his hands reconnected with your heated cheek, he withdrew ever so slightly as a groan left his throat, “god, I wanna fuck you…”

The gravel in his tone shot straight down between your legs and made you whimper, “please.”

After he seized your lips once more, the hand on the side of your face slid further up and disappeared into your hair. When his fist soon enclosed around the roots of your locks at the nape of your neck, a purr poured out of you, one he briefly paused the kiss to relish hearing. 

His other palm still grazed over your clothing, petting you so passionately that you expected on bated breath for him to rip your attire off. 

But he didn’t. 

Instead, right when he pinched your nipple through your shirt, his fingers didn’t move to pop open the row of buttons. 

Pulling back from the heated kiss, he maintained your face so close to his that his prominent nose pressed against your cheek. 

“Take this off,” he commanded in a gravelly tone, faintly gesturing to your shirt before his hand floated up to join his other if your hair. 

As you scrambled to do so, hazy with lust, you tried to tilt your chin to capture his lips, but the grip he had on you caused each of your attempts to fail as he denied you another taste. 

Once your button-up tumbled to the ground, he rose to his feet, lifting you with him, before one of his hands briefly let go to gesture to the shorts that hung from your hips, “these as well.”  

It wasn’t till they too fell to the dirt that Frank finally kissed you again, or to be more accurate, nearly devoured you. 

Your fingers tangled in his flannel for purchase as he scooped your body even closer to his. When you felt the palpable tent in his pants press up against your stomach, your right hand had a mind of its own and slid down to graze and teasingly rub him through his clothing. 

“Fuck…” he grunted, swiftly leaning into your touch. 

When his feet began to move, yours blindly began to shuffle as well. Each time you encountered even a tiny twig or something to make you slightly lose your balance, your grip tightened in his shirt and his hold on you swiftly shifted and clutched your waist, just so that in case you actually did stumble, he would be ready to sweep you off your feet. 

The flap to the tent was already open from when you grabbed the marshmallows, so nothing was there to hinder you when Frank pushed you inside. 

As both of you sank down to your knees on the sprawled-out sleeping bags, you began to tear at his clothes, an action that he didn’t protest in the slightest, only brought a hand back up to tangle itself in your locks. With the tent still open to the great outdoors, the crackling light from the campfire streamed in and illuminated both your forms. The warm glow licked across Frank’s skin as you revealed more and more of it. 

When you began to tuck at the last remaining item covering him up, you barely managed to hook a finger in his boxers before Frank’s body moved, laying down and bringing you with him. Chest pressed down against his, he manoeuvred your legs to be at either side of his hips. 

Capturing his lips in a kiss, you both sucked in a slow breath through your noses. As his palms slid up from the curve of your ass and over your waist, the pent-up tempo that had formed outside seemed to relax, your sloppy makeout morphing into soft and yearning pecks. 

His scruff tickled your palms as you clutched his jaw and withdrew just enough for you to catch your breath. Your nose nuzzled gently against his as you then begged in a foggy whisper, “can I please suck your cock?” 

Huffing out a smile, he found your eyes, “you wanna suck my cock?”

“Please.”

“Oh yeah? Well then go right ahead since you want it so badly.”

Mirroring his grin, you leaned in to press your lips to his one last time, “thank you,” before you slowly began to crawl further down. 

Holding his gaze as he propped himself up onto his elbows, you dipped down to plant a few kisses across his stomach before your nose nuzzled against the waistband of his underwear. When you were slotted between his parted legs, resting on your belly with your feet kicked up, his thumbs dipped into his boxers and pulled them off before you had the chance. 

His length sprung free of its binds, throbbing under your gaze and glistening with precum. Your eyes flickered up to meet his as you wrapped your fingers around his girth and a sharp intake of air filled Frank’s lungs. 

You only really had to tilt your head and stick out your tongue in order for it to glide across the bulbous head, as you already were at eye level. Glancing up to catch his gaze, you teasingly tapped the tip of him against your tongue, the corners of your mouth tipping upwards at his reaction. Dipping your head, you planted sloppy pecks down the side of him and when you came back up, you let your saliva dribble down his hardness, your fist swiftly swooping up to lavish its strokes.

When your lips finally enclosed around his girth, a deep rumble vibrated in his burly chest as he watched your slow movements intently, “fuck, I love you…” and his hand came down to stroke the side of your features as you silkily began to bob, “just like that, baby, yes,” drool gradually began to drip down as your lips stretched around his fat girth. When you then momentarily came up for air, Frank tilted his chin and said, “don’t forget the nuts, sweetheart,” and you swiftly bowed down to sloppily make out with his heavy sack, “give them some love as well.”

Then, just as you were about to return your attention to his painfully hard length, he manoeuvred your head for you and only relished in a few seconds of your butterfly-like pace before his hips twisted beneath you and bucked up into your efforts, fucking your little mouth till his cock plunged all the way down your throat. Spit bubbled up at the corners of your lips as his fingers curled around to hold your head in place just a moment longer, letting him fuck your throat till tears began to spew forth. You knew by the sensation that if you’d been lying on your back, the imprint of his cock would have been clear as day in the column of your throat, a familiar bulge that Frank would often let his fingers trace if he caught sight of it. 

Strings of slobber spiderwebbed from your swollen and gasping lips as he finally plucked you off of him. Sitting up more, he brought his face further down and pressed his mouth to yours, smothering the smile that appeared on your features as soon as you got up for air. 

As he impatiently ripped your bra off and you reached down to pull off your panties, they clung to your weepy cunt. Not being able to resist, yourself, you reached down and swept your fingers through your folds, your eyebrows crinkling up at the discovery of just how wet you’d gotten. 

Picking you up, Frank placed you back in his lap before his kisses faded and he layed back down. Raising yourself further up on your knees to hover above him, he grabbed a hold of the base of himself and briefly dragged the tip of him through your petals, flicking your clit before he brought a broad palm to your hip and helped you sink down. 

“Fucking hell…” you flutteringly cursed as you braced a hand on his chest, “oh, F-Frank…”

Your thighs trembled slightly on either side of him as you slowly eased your way down, the stretch of his fat cock proving just staggering as ever. 

As you gently began to roll your hips and find a calm pace that let you feel each and every single detail of him, your eyes fluttered shut as he stretched you out. Repeatedly raising your hips up till just the essence of him remained, you’d then sink back down, each time your slow pace nearly caused your pussy to clench and shrink back entirely so that it felt as if he’d have to split you open all over again. 

But just as you began to lose yourself to the heavenly sensation and let yourself slam back down with more ferocity, Frank’s cock slipped out of your creamy cunt completely. 

A whimper swiftly escaped you as your eyes blinked back open, but the man below you didn’t seem to move a muscle as he just uttered, “put it back in, baby,” which you swiftly reached down to do, moaning loudly as he slipped back into your warmth. His strong fingers dented the curve of your ass as you fulfilled his command, “there you go, good girl,” then swatted his wide palm against your backside to kickstart you back into action. 

Panting as you bounced like a little bunny, your hands crept up to squeeze your tits, pinching the nipples harshly as the melody of your efforts filled the tent. 

“That’s it, ride it,” he growled, offering your ass a few more slaps, “ride that fucking dick.”

Both of his hands then grabbed a hold of your bottom and surely bruised it as he aided your movements, though it didn’t take very long at all for him to take over completely and move your body atop of him, leaving you to just relax into his hold and sink deeper into the breathtaking sensation.

As he bounced you on his cock, he managed to nestle you down even further and grind his dick impossibly deep within you. 

Your head lulled back a bit as he rocked your form. Then, as you felt goosebumps tingle across your flesh and the intoxicating end near, you stopped fighting the urge and let your upper body crumble down against his. 

Fingers curling uselessly against his skin, you almost attempted to bury your face in his chest, right below his right shoulder. 

“Fucking hell,” your eyes rolled as you began to drool on his pec. 

Rolling his hips beneath you, he started to buck up into your weepy cunt before his palm landed a few tingling blows across your bottom. 

When your pussy finally clambered down around him, you nearly bit him as your features tensed up in a silent scream. His own demise soon arrived as well, especially as you throbbed and squeezed down around him so tightly that he nearly couldn’t move at all, just throw in the towel and let your cunt milk him dry. 

You almost fell asleep, laying there on his chest as it slowly rose and fell like a calm tide, Frank even assumed that you had until the moment that you murmured, “I’m so happy that you didn’t just keep driving…” 

“Uh…” his warm fingers drew slow patterns along your spine as he attempted to catch up, “when are you talking about?”

Faintly, you heard the tent rustle as Enzo sleepily stepped inside and plopped himself down on your tangled feet. 

“That you stopped back then on that day when my car broke down,” you uttered as your emotions began to fog up your voice, “thank you for stopping. If not, then we probably wouldn’t have ever met… god… I love you so much. I don’t even know how to–…” a heavy sigh flowed from you before you tilted your head and blinked up into his coffee eyes, tears glinting in your own, “I love you.”

With a molasses-like expression softening up his features, his fingers then tugged a strand of your hair out of your forehead before he replied, “I love you too, Y/n.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[anadiasmount]

teach me how to forget - jude bellingham x reader.

summary: this is mostly based on some lyrics from romeo santos songs. a not so girls trip but getting an unexpected call that leaves you thinking… i’ll leave it there *winks*

wc: 2.5k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: was in the mood to write and this was a request i had received so anon here you go :p i love toxic jude and i shall write what the girlies want :ppppo

This time of year was a time filled with love and warmth. The Christmas lights, the decorations, the hot cocoa, the feeling of giving back, the feeling of security. While those thoughts remained in your head, you were constantly reminded how single and lonely you were, especially when you decided to take a trip with your girlfriends and their partners. 

They laughed, rejoiced, hugged, smiled, and had that look of love every time they stared at them, you felt left out and felt the urge to have what they have. It wasn't jealousy or anger, you felt more than happy for them, but now the idea of love began to make you mad. You had given everything to him, and you would do it again only under different circumstances. 

It was your first serious relationship, well you thought, after the last one you had in high school. Serious as in you thought it would be the man you’d marry. The day every little girl wished for, though when growing up you hated it, why give so much commitment? But unexpectedly with his lies and broken promises, he changed your opinion about marriage. He changed your opinion about love.

You once looked at him with adoration in his eyes, hugged his bicep in public to send a message to others, kissed his cheek first and then his lips when he visited you or saw him after some time apart, you would giggle at night when talking about your futures together, the warm feeling inside never leaving your chest as he held you close to him. The way his soft brown eyes bore into yours when he left you. 

But he was never yours, there wasn't ever a label or words said to claim him as yours.

You poured your heart to him, asking him, you needed to know the why, to get rid of the heavy and painful feeling in your heart, that felt like it was being stabbed each minute that passed by. Couldn't he see it? Why was it so hard for him to see how much you were willing and had already sacrificed to be with him? Was the love you gave him ever enough, all the kisses, cries, laughter? 

For the first time in your life, you felt something real, a love like in the movies, yet this was actuality. No more good night calls or texts, cuddles, sharing a bathroom to get ready, or his big t-shirts, exchanging looks across the room which ended in the two of you going home, or kisses knowing that they were forbidden. In the end, whatever happened it happened for a reason. 

As much as it hurt and brought misery, you were able to reconstruct yourself. You tried to convince yourself this would be a lesson for the future, a lesson that was learned the hard way as not only you lost your best friend but also your first love. Love can be cruel and painful, but in the end, it brings two souls together that are meant to be. 

“Are you good babes? You look uncomfortable,” your friend joked, earning a small laugh from you. “I'm okay, just feeling very much like a third wheel,” you said honestly and shrugged your shoulders. This trip was planned at the last minute, a girls' trip to be said, but that changed when their partner tagged along, as it was conveniently their only time off from work. 

While it angered you and almost made you not come, you realized they also needed this with them, you couldn't be that careless and selfish, though you would keep it in mind for next time. You also had wasted your money on the trip so there was no backing out, you needed a deserved break from your busy life in Spain. 

“I promise tonight is our night. They guys are going to fish overnight by the bay so we can head to the club and drink till there’s no tomorrow,” she said cheerfully, giving you a side hug before standing up and walking over to the closet where your clothes hung. “How is it going with that guy Joel?” she questioned pulling out a couple of outfits for you. 

You grimaced and shook your head, “I don't see him like that… he’s amazing don’t get me wrong, but he’s kinda boring? I don’t know, he is marrying for image and I want something way different. The dates were fun but in the end, he’s looking for one thing and I don’t want that, you know?” you explained while fidgeting with your rings that suddenly felt loose. 

“But at the same time, when I'm with him, all I can feel is happiness. When he isn't being cocky or serious he treats me well, buys me flowers, and showers me with love. I feel like it feels so wrong, but at the same time, he is always there for me. He has seen me at my worst and hasn't once judged me for it.”

Your friend raised her brow and handed you a tight navy blue dress, “I understand, just have fun. You're single, sexy, an amazing woman, and independent. When the time is right, that person will appear,” she kissed your head and urged you to change. “I expect you to be the drunkest, don't think of him, he isn't worth your tears pretty.” 

With that she walked off, leaving you standing still, was she referring to Joel or Jude? She was right, no feelings could change the new ones you felt. 

It ended up being the complete opposite, your friends were all drunk and sang loudly to an old rock song, while you laughed and took small sips from your third cranberry vodka. You would join in at times, but their wobbly bodies made it hard as they would cling to you for support. The drunk selfies and videos you all took made them giggle as you all took a ride back home. 

Jude saw it all. He was watching but from his home in Spain. He felt the cold and empty space next to him. He realized it was becoming too much for him, and he had to do something about it. But he always held back knowing it wasn't fair on your part. You deserved to be happy after all the pain he caused. But knowing he fully hasn't apologized was killing him. Or the fact the picture of you laughing with another man built a rubble of jealousy in his chest.

His thumbs always found their way to your contact, where he had your name next to a white heart, and the contact picture he took when you accompanied him to Germany. It all felt so familiar to him, reminding him of the good times you’d spent together, whether it was in his home, the beloved coffee shop, or the bookstore in downtown London you love dearly. Your smile, the personality he envied because you were perfect, so pure, your eyes that said the truth, and hands that built warmth when he held or felt them. 

He missed you terribly, longing to hear your voice or see you even if it was for a second. He caved in and dialed you, coming face to face with your smile that shined bright as he heard the phone dial.

“If you need anything please let me know,” you said to your friend, who drunkenly fell asleep on her bed. You quickly showered and changed into your pajamas, putting your hair into a messy bun and laying down on the queen-sized bed. You scrolled through the TV and ate your salty crisps. You hadn't heard your phone ring, but when you saw two missed calls from his number you let out a huge gasp and sat upright. 

Your hand dragged across your forehead, the familiar feeling of fear and uneasiness hitting you again in a huge wave. You bit your nails and dropped your phone taking a huge gulp of water as your throat became dry. 

Hey. I called and you didn't answer. Can you call? 

Give me a second, is everything okay?

No. I’d like to talk to you about something. Please just answer. 

Why would he call? What was so important that made him call you twice and send you a message? You soon would find out as you heard your phone buzz again. Your heart raced again, banging loudly in your chest, everything in the room around you was bright and colourful, the cold sheets now hot, the crisps being hard to swallow, and the vibration of your phone reminding you he was waiting. 

“H-h-hello?” you said shaky, hearing the relief on the other end. Jude on the other end felt nervous, his airpods put away as he brought his phone closer to his ear to hear your voice clearer, to feel you. “Y/n hi. Hi, uh, hi…” Jude chuckled anxiously, biting his lip, forgetting why he even called. “Did you need something?” you said in a low voice, whispering almost, as you muted the TV. 

“I wanted to know something…” 

“Which is?”

“I wanted to know if you remember our trip to Munich after the season ended last year,” he said slowly, voice deeper than what you were used to. How could you forget that trip? Were you kissed for the first time and promised to be at each other's side no matter what went on? A deal is a deal, a promise is a promise, but you weren't sure why he was recalling this exact moment. “What are you trying to get at?” you said instead of responding to his question. 

“Answer the question… Do you remember the trip and what happened?” he asked again, leaving you confused and tugging your sheets up. “Yes. Of course, I remember,” you caved in, shutting your eyes, and attempting to calm your nerves. “And what did we promise, that we’d be there for each other, no?” he said. 

“Things changed Jude. You changed things when you decided to leave and walk out. I can't promise you that, because what you did in the end was break them. You want me to be there for you? What about that time I begged for you to stay so we could work it out, and you did the opposite? To give you that promise I would have to trust your word again…” you deadpanned seriously, feeling the bubble of anger construct in your chest, your knuckles white as you control the feeling. 

“You can't trust me?” Jude said softly and hurt. He knew he had hurt you, but for you to tell it and show it to his face was the least thing he expected. “No? How could I, when in the end you proved me wrong?” you said, but Jude had caught you when you didn't voice it, the no being a question instead of an answer. If he was there with you, your eyes would tell him the truth. 

“Are you happy with him? Does he know how much I consider him my enemy for having what belonged to me, even if the one to blame is me? That I envy him for being able to make you smile even the slightest bit when it should be me?” Jude says, leaving you dumbfounded before realizing why he called. “I'm tired of your silly games. You couldn't maintain a serious thing with me, and you have the nerve to call me about-”

“I saw you laugh, I saw you cry. I lived next to you. The best and worst chapters of our novel. From our history. If you taught me to love, also teach me to forget what I feel because you are the woman I love and want. I learned to love beside you, you taught me to love, but you didn't teach me what was harmful, that love was harmful…” he said breathlessly, your chest rising up and down as he confessed his pure feelings. 

“Jude-” 

“I love you so much that I'm afraid to see you again. I only relive those old memories where you'd sit on my bed, a warm cup of coffee in your hand as you watched your soap operas. I still read your love letters, in the hope that one day you’ll come back to me. Who will heal this pain that you left inside me when you went away? Whoever invented love, should have given instructions to avoid suffering,” you couldn't believe what you were hearing. 

The tears coming down your cheeks, and your hand covering your mouth to hide the loud sobs. He heard them, as a tear glided on his cheek wanting nothing more than to be there with you. But the same distance that separated the two of you, was the same reason he couldn't hold or have you anymore. 

“Why tell me this now? Tell me you love me but showed otherwise. You say I taught you how to love, and hope one day I'll come back? Where was this when I needed to hear when I begged you, Jude? I probably looked stupid confessing my feelings while all this time you hid yours away. You weren't ready, I get that, but it's too late. I learned and I lost, and I can't go down that road with you again,” you croaked, sniffling and whipping the tears away. 

“If you think I have replaced you, I haven't. As much as he makes me happy, you ruined that for me. I constantly picture you instead of him. I feel like a coward for leading on a good man, knowing that what I feel won't ever be enough or fair to him. I've tried Jude, i've tried to forget you without holding a grudge, but it's so hard when I love you this deeply,” you let out crying, yours and Jude’s heartbreaking every second that passed by. 

Jude couldn't stand it, the silence was killing him, suddenly spoke out and poured his heart out to you, your gut wrenching hearing him at the way he felt over the months that passed by. Pain clawed your hearts, chests heaving as you could feel the soulmate connection even from afar. His voice brings you a sense of calmness and relief. He felt the familiar feeling of home when he heard you laugh, slowly coming out of your protective shelf. 

“Without you, my life leads nowhere. But I took you for granted, and now I'm hanging from a rope. I know that you know I'll do whatever for your love, so tell me what I can do to call you mine again, baby?” Jude’s voice cracked, the pleading in his voice showing raw emotion.

“Come to me. I need you to prove your love to me and that it isn't for games.”

[mrsjellymunson]

🌸🌼 One Fine Day 🌼🌸

Adapted from this ask from @celestialbat for the @steddiemicrofic June 1-year anniversary prompt, ‘one’. WC: 1,111. Rating: G. CW: tooth-rotting fluff, romance, flirting, mentions of food (no actual eating) and Eddie’s difficult childhood (not detailed).

Before today, Eddie never would’ve believed that one day could mean so much.

He and Steve haven’t been together long, and haven't really even gone on a proper ‘date’. But Eddie’s decided: today's the day.

He’s not usually one for cuteness and grand romantic gestures - he’d usually take someone to The Hideout, or spend time in his van out by Lover’s Lake. Not because he doesn’t want to, more because he doesn’t know how to, and prefers to keep things simple rather than run the risk of embarrassing himself.

But with Steve, everything’s different.

Before Steve, he reckons he wouldn’t’ve known how to be romantic if his life had depended on it. But now, he’s finding he loves to do things to make Steve laugh, to make him blush, even just to make him smile, and he doesn’t even care if he makes himself look like an idiot while he does it.

So today, he’s packed up as much of a romantic picnic as he can manage. He’s borrowed a basket and cooler from Robin, along with some tips on what to pack, after he admitted he was just going to get Twinkies, chips and Mountain Dew from Melvald’s. She’s even let him raid her fridge for a few things.

He’s shaken out the blankets from the back of his van, and has borrowed a few pillows from the trailer, so they’ll both have something comfortable to sit on. He’s brought camping plates and cutlery, usually reserved for Wayne’s fishing trips, so Steve doesn’t have to pick things out of packets like Eddie usually would, and purchased some of Steve’s favourite name-brand soda (rather than the store equivalent). He’s discovered he and Wayne don’t own napkins, so he’s Origami-ed some kitchen paper into bird-like shapes so they stand up on their own - fancy.

Steve assumes Eddie’s just taking the pair of them to the local park, perhaps picking something up from Benny’s on the way, but Eddie surprises him, swinging the van along one of the exit roads to a ‘secret spot’ outside of town.

It’s down a quiet lane, a pretty meadow filled with tall grass and wildflowers. And it’s beautiful.

Eddie doesn’t mention that he used to come here with his mom. It’s not far from the house they used to live in, and she’d bring him here when things got really bad with Al. Sometimes they’d even camp out under the stars. It was one place where Eddie felt safe.

Maybe he’ll tell Steve about it one day.

He grabs Steve’s hand and unnecessarily helps him down from the cab with a gallant, “This way, sweetheart”, and insists on carrying everything himself, even though Steve offers to help. (And, as Steve suspected he would, he almost trips twice.)

Eddie chooses a patch that’s more grass than flowers, explaining to Steve that, “I don’t want to hurt them”, and lays everything out on the well-loved blanket.

Steve can’t believe he’s gone to all this effort. There’s cold meats and cheeses, small tomatoes, carrot batons, berries, nuts, apple slices and a few grapes. And because Eddie can’t forego the snack food, there’s also pretzels, breadsticks and, yes, chips.

Steve thinks it’s wonderful; thinks Eddie’s wonderful. And the two of them spend an idyllic afternoon snacking and chatting and laughing and playing with each other’s fingers and tracing their fingertips up and down each other’s arms.

Steve asks about Eddie’s tattoos, and Eddie enjoys telling Steve the stories behind them. He makes up outrageous tales about the creatures and how they fought for their places on his human canvas, occasionally lifting his shirt and enjoying the way Steve’s eyes glitter as they roam his torso.

Once most of the food is gone, Steve helps Eddie to pack away the leftovers and encourages him to lie down, insisting he deserves a rest after all he’s done today.

Eddie smiles softly at him, and says he will, but,

“Only if I can choose the best pillow in the state.”

Confused, Steve glances around at the worn cushions brought from the trailer, and Eddie smirks as he drops down onto his elbows and wriggles backwards to place his messy mop into Steve’s lap. He moves his head back and forth a couple of times, settling, humming to himself, mumbling,

“Mmmm, definitely the best pillow in the state. Wait, the country! No, I’m so stupid, of course I mean the whole entire world!”

Steve chuckles down at him and the corners of his honeyed eyes crinkle as Eddie peeps up with those coffee coloured pools Steve adores so much.

Steve enjoys the weight and warmth of Eddie resting against him, and runs his fingers through Eddie’s bangs. They talk about everything and nothing, and Eddie begins to doze in the afternoon sun. He stirs a little as Steve periodically leans to one side, but thinks nothing of it.

He rouses as he feels Steve playing with his hair again, and thinks he might just be in paradise. Surely, there’s no earthly reason why the two of them couldn’t stay like this forever?

But then something unfamiliar tickles his cheek, and he opens one eye to see Steve leaning over him, examining a small yellow flower with a long stem before cocking his head sideways and appraising Eddie, squinting a little.

Placing it carefully into Eddie’s hair between an orange and red bloom, and just above a tiny purple one, Eddie sees the tip of Steve’s tongue emerge from between his teeth as he adjusts it before leaning back and admiring his handiwork.

Eddie brings a hand gently up to his hairline, careful not to dislodge anything, and discovers he has quite an array of blooms adorning his waves.

Steve reaches into his bag and pulls out his Polaroid camera, wanting to capture Eddie’s beautiful visage. Taking a couple of snaps, he places them face down on the blanket to develop as Eddie gleefully makes grabby hands, wanting to take one of his own. He hadn’t realised Steve had brought it, and he’s not missing this opportunity.

Steve won’t know it, but the sun that’s dipping low behind him is giving him a glorious golden halo that Eddie thinks makes him look like an ethereal, heavenly being. If he can capture even a tenth of that in a photo, he thinks he’ll keep it close to his heart forever.

Eddie’s convinced this is definitely the best picnic, and possibly the best afternoon, of his life. He wonders whether Steve feels the same.

Before today, Eddie never would’ve believed how much romance he actually had in him, or that one day could mean so much.

Thanks so much for reading!!

My masterlist

Tagging my general list (open): @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @guiltyasquinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @sheneedsrocknroll92 @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @kurdtbean

Reblogging divider by @strangergraphics 💚💚

And how could I possibly pass up yet another opportunity to reshare this beautiful and rather gloriously appropriate piece of art by @themultiverseofmars 😉😘 YES I AM OBSESSED, WHAT OF IT HUH? HUH??

[beefrobeefcal]

Sad Fish Blue Fish feat. Frankie & f!reader

Summary: Frankie's POV - what has he been up to while you rebuild your life?. Part 5 of There are Other Fish in the Sea

Pairing: Frankie, Ezra & Mouse | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 3,170

Content Warnings: frankie learning the hard way, frankie wallowing in misery, discussion of sobriety, post-break up blues, swearing, poor coping mechanisms, toxic masculinity, fragile male egos, bad decisions made by men, mentions of blood, therapy, mentions of intoxication

Author's Notes: Frankie is a fuckboi. Will is once again a big floppy donkey dink. News at 11.

Thank you to @strang3lov3 and @noxturnalpascal for brainstorming this with me, and to @bitchesuntitled for their eyes and love.

No more tag lists - follow @beefnotes + turn on notifications for fic updates!

It hadn’t been fair. None of it. The way he’d treated you or the way you abandoned him. You didn’t even give him a chance to apologize, to explain! The way you looked at him, wounded, hurt, furious, scared, as Benny led you out of your shared home for the last time, it broke him. 

But he never thought that was the end. How could it be? You were his and he was yours. His chest felt hollow. 

Frankie saw Will after Benny had broken his nose for trying to force you back home with him. He heard through the grapevine that you had moved in with Benny and were rebuilding your life - but how could you rebuild it without him? Why would you do that when the life you had together just needed some reinforcement? How could you just declare it over and decide he wasn’t a part of your future anymore?

It was Santi who suggested Frankie needed help. Confronting him in the garage as Frankie drank countless beers while attempting to fix a broken headlight on his truck. The calm way Santi approached him with sad eyes, telling him that he couldn’t stand to see his brother lose more and do nothing about it. Frankie didn’t think he could say no, not at that moment anyway. 

Santi was the one who took him to a treatment centre and was also the one to pick him up 30-days later where Frankie emerged, sober. His yearning to show you he could do better had fueled him, the remorse and regret always under the surface, ready to derail any progress he made, but he was proud to have completed the program. 

He wasn’t sure what to expect when he got out, but being told by Benny to stay away from you, that you didn’t need his bullshit in your life and you deserved a clean break from him, he wasn’t ready for. Frankie’s already fragile heart broke into pieces as someone he thought was his best friend so cruelly ripped away his chance at getting you to come back home. 

The days were bearable. He could get through them because he was always with someone, Santi having moved in with him to keep him company and on the straight and narrow. Frankie went to work, to AA, to his therapist, to the grocery store, to Will’s house… but the nights. He was warned by his counselor in rehab that the nights would be the worst, and he would need to work on his coping and communication to get through them in the beginning.

He would lay awake in your formerly shared bed, covered in the sheets you had bought at a Black Friday sale a few years back that you were so proud of what a deal you’d snagged them on. He would stare at the ceiling, counting the glow in the dark stars you’d put up there when he’d broken his leg and couldn’t go on a camping trip with the guys. He would hear the wind chime you’d made out of seashells you brought home from the beach outside the bedroom window. Santi had suggested making some small changes, slowly getting rid of the ghost of your presence around the house, but Frankie refused. He wasn’t ready to let go of what little he had left of you, even if it was slowly eroding away his heart and adding to that hollowed-out feeling in his chest.

There wasn’t an inch of this home that wasn’t laced with the memory of you, and more often than not, Frankie would fall asleep with his eyes flooded with tears, grieving over your absence.

*****

“... and that’s why letting go has to come from you, not from her.”

Frankie looked up from his tattered cuticles at that. He liked his therapist, Martin, but this session had been rough. He’d finally admitted that maybe he needed to let go but said that he needed you to do it first. AlthoughMartin’s response wasn’t entirely unexpected, he still didn’t like it.

“No. I need her to - “

“She did that when she left, man.” Martin said, sympathy and understanding written all over his face. “You’re the one still holding on.”

Frankie scoffed, and looked away, jaw clenched. “No, she left but I fixed - “

“Listen to what you’re say -”

“No!”, Frankie boomed, anger and hurt boiling over. “No! I fixed what needed fixing an-and she - “, he sucked back an angry sob as his emotions overtook. “- she shouldn’t… she can’t do - no! I love her!”

Martin put his notebook and pen on the side table, leaned forward while offering a box of kleenex, and rested his elbows on his knees. “I know you love her. But we talked about this: a relationship needs both people on board. If one leaves, the other has to respect that.”

Frankie huffed and threw box of kleenex on the floor, then flopped back in his seat, muttering a fuck! under his breath. He rubbed his hands on his face, feeling overwhelmed and scared. Scared? Scared. He was scared. The reality of you and him actually being done was fully setting in and it terrified him. 

Martin reached forward and put a hand on Frankie’s knee. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Frankie let out a shaky breath, letting the grief and anguish and acceptance wash over him. “It’s really done, isn’t it?”

Martin nodded. The remainder of the session was spent on how Frankie could move forward now that he had accepted the truth of it. 

*****

He sat in front of his laptop, rereading his email to you. He’d managed to get your consent via Benny via Santi to send you one as a way to communicate with you, and taking Martin’s advice, he’d written a ‘letting go’ message to you. 

Mouse,

I’m writing to tell you that as much as I love you, you cannot come back. I am working towards sobriety and the clarity I have received in this pursuit helped me realize that you are not good for me. 

I know I am not blameless, and I am sorry for any hurt I caused you. But I need you to understand how much pain you caused me. I made a lot of unhealthy choices with you and while I know you did things out of love, they were harmful to me. I need a clean break. 

I am letting go and you should, too. 

Yours, 

Frankie

There wasn’t a word of truth in that message but he hit send anyways. He didn’t feel any better afterwards, but he did start taking down the glow in the dark stars.

*****

Kimberly, the receptionist at the garage he worked at, made eyes at him while he spoke to a customer about the muffler in his car that needed replacement. As he tried to focus on the customer’s questions about how long it would take or how much it would cost, he couldn’t stop himself from throwing glances at her. 

That’s all it took for Frankie to take the next step in letting you go. 

Kimberly was nothing like you. She was quieter and more subdued, with Frankie having to pull conversations out of her. Things didn’t flow naturally and Frankie tried to think if this is how it was for you and him when you first started dating too. Part of him knew he shouldn’t be comparing everything she did to how he thought you would, but he couldn’t help it. Even the first time they fucked, it didn’t feel the same and that hollow part of his chest seemed to grow everytime he was intimate with Kimberly. 

Santi had badgered him to make his relationship ‘Instagram official’ with a selfie and he reluctantly took a selfie with her at one of Will’s barbeques, slapping on his smile for a few and kissing Kimberly’s cheek for a few more. Santi had the final say in which one he posted - along with the caption calling her ‘Princess’ - while Will scowled at Frankie. Will had made it known that he didn’t think Frankie was trying hard enough to get you back, and he had been overtly and loudly critical of him. 

Everytime Will saw Frankie near Kimberly, he would give her a dirty look and speak to Frankie as if Kimberly wasn’t there. Despite her mentioning it to him, Frankie would tell her that Will was just upset because you were his cousin and he was taking the breakup hard. He didn’t want to admit that he didn’t have the spine to stand up to Will and tell him to back off. 

After three months of dating, Kimberly was the one to break it off, telling Frankie that she couldn’t compete with a memory and she didn’t think he was ready for a relationship with her. 

He didn’t fight to keep her because he knew she was right.

*****

A few weeks later, Frankie was at home on the back porch drinking a diet coke with Santi. A contemplative silence lingered between them, and Frankie could tell that Santi was debating something. Before he could ask him what he was thinking about, Santi spoke softly.

“I don’t think you’ve let her go.”

A pause, then Frankie responded. “I haven’t.”

Santi nodded and took a drink. “Will thinks you should -”

Frankie groaned out a sigh. “Fuck Will.”

“I know, but he is not letting this go. He - hermano, Will is determined that you and Mouse get back together -”

“Jesus!”, Frankie huffed out. “Everyone has an opinion on what we should do but no one has even bothered to ask what I want!”

Santi’s brows furrowed as he looked at him. “Okay… so what do you want?”

“I want to move on. I want to do right by her and let her go. I also want her to come back, and be mine again. I really want to go back in time and not fuck all of this up. Most of all I want her to be happy and I want to be happy…”, he rambled out, then sat back in his chair, groaning. “I wish I didn’t send that stupid email.”

“What email?”

Frankie knew he had to tell someone about the email he’d sent you; he hadn’t even told his therapist Martin about it yet. He’d read and reread it after sending it and he knew you’d received it, but you hadn’t responded, and he couldn’t blame you. He shouldn’t have sent it without having someone else read it beforehand - they would have told him it was a shitty message to send, placing way too much blame on you. He felt the hot, sick feeling of shame and anxiety wash over his body, making him feel nauseous, every time he thought about it. 

Frankie pulled out his phone and handed it to Santi, the message he’d sent you on the screen. Santi read it and Frankie saw the disappointment cross his face as he read the email. 

“What the fuck, Frankie?!”

*****

It was Thursday morning, and Frankie was on lunch when his phone buzzed in his pocket. A message from Will was on his home screen reading:

Mouse alone this wknd. Benny camping.

Frankie was tired. His eyes read the words and he knew what this was: it was a direct order from his commanding officer. He sigh and responded with:

Affirmative.

Frankie’s reply was promptly reacted to with a thumb’s up. He knew Will meant well, knowing that Will knew deep down this is what Frankie truly wanted, but something about it made him feel uneasy. 

That evening, Frankie drove down towards Benny’s apartment building, debating if this really was a good idea. He was so lost in thought, he almost missed seeing you walk into the corner store. Your hair was styled differently but he recognized it was you by your jacket and the way you walked. He frantically crossed the oncoming lane to turn into a parking lot, looking for a spot.

Once parked, he had to take a minute to calm down before he went into the store. Frankie knew he couldn’t approach you shaky and out of breath; he needed to be calm and collected, and at that moment he was anything but. His feet seemed to be working independently of the rest of him as they walked right into the store and his heart beat hard against the inside of his rib cage as he finally found the aisle you were in. 

You hadn’t noticed him yet and you looked serene. Content and at peace, something he hadn’t seen in so long, and he felt like his hollowed-out chest was cracking open at the ribs, a greedy gaping maw wanting to devour and absorb you, never letting you go again. You were casually looking at the label of a bottle of olive oil and you were sublime in doing so. He didn’t know what to say. He cleared his throat.

He regretted it as soon as he did it. The moment your eyes were on him, he watched your walls come up. That perfect casual beauty you carried when you didn’t know you were being watched was twisting into a withdrawn, defensive stare, squared directly at him. He watched you grow colder and closed off with each word that came out of him, like a brick wall slowly being reinforced. 

When you’d shoved your shopping basket into his chest and left the store in a hurry, he knew better than to chase you. He had watched you recede and he felt like he made a horrible mistake - he’d driven you away and lost you. He felt as if this was the final nail in the coffin. 

The sorrow and shame he felt began to morph into anger as he stormed out of the store and back to his truck. Will. This was Will’s fault. As he drove directly to Will’s house, his blind fury grew, all rationale leaving him as he slammed all blame solely on Will for this. 

Frankie barely parked his truck, leaving the driver’s side door open and the engine running, then barreled up to Will’s door. Before Will even had the door open all the way, Frankie shoved his way in, slamming Will against the wall. 

“YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”

*****

It had taken Will a lot longer to subdue Frankie than he would have thought, but he’d eventually managed to do so, gradually gaining the upper hand and pinning the larger man facedown on the floor. 

“You need to calm the fuck down, Morales!”, he barked, leaning down as he restrained Frankie. 

He struggled against the hold he was under, but finally relented. As he relaxed his body, the overwhelming sadness that hid behind his anger came pouring forth. Will could do nothing but release Frankie and watch him break down in his hallway. 

*****

Word travels fast. Before the end of the weekend Frankie had received a scathing voicemail from Benny, warning him to never approach you again like that and Santi had texted him ‘wtf were you thinking?’ in all caps. Both had broached this without him telling them a thing, so clearly you had told Benny and then the news traveled on. Frankie stayed hidden away in his room, tail between his legs.

A few weeks later in the evening, Frankie answered the door after a violent assault was levied on his doorbell. It was Will, seemingly returning the favour, and he was very worked up.

“Mouse has a lot of fucking nerve!”, he bellowed as he stomped into the house. “She fucking told me - ME!! - that I was the stubborn one! She wouldn’t even listen to me!”

Frankie had stepped back, slightly concerned with the wild look in Will’s eyes. “What? Why did you go see her? What happen -”

“She is so fucking selfish!”

Frankie’s eyes widened at Will. Sure, you could be hard-headed but selfish? 

“She doesn’t get it! Mouse doesn’t get what she’s done!”

He tried to interrupt Will, not wanting to hear anything more. He shook his head, trying to grab Will by the shoulders. 

“No! Fish, she wrecked the family! All she had to do was forgive you- that’s it! Just accept that you made a fucking mistake and grow the fuck u-”

“WILL!!”, Frankie boomed, gripping his shoulders and harshly slamming him against the wall behind him. “STOP IT!”

Will’s chest heaved and his red face skewed further in rage. Frankie knew that it was ironic in the most hypocritical way that he was the one telling Will to stop but he needed to know what happened and if you were okay before he could let his own temper take over. Before he could get another word out though, Will shoved him off and stormed back out the door. Frankie could only watch as Will’s car screeched away from the curb and down the street. He quickly grabbed his phone and called Benny, begging under his breath for him to pick up.

A few rings then voicemail.

A few rings then voicemail again.

And again.

The sixth time he called, Benny finally picked up and snarled “What, Fish?!”

“Is- Ben, is she okay?”

Benny let out a deep sigh on the other end of the line followed by a harsh, “She’s fine.”

Frankie swallowed hard; he didn’t believe that she was fine. He sucked back a sharp breath and asked again, ‘Is. She. Okay?”

“She’s fine, Fish!” Benny huffed. “She left to see Ez - her new boyfr- person.”

Frankie froze. He could feel the prickles and tingles of anxiety creep over his skin as Benny all but confirmed that you’d moved on and were with someone else. He didn’t know how long he stood in his open doorway, staring at the street with his phone to his ear when Benny called out, “Fish? Fish? Frankie! Frankie, you there??”

Frankie nervously cleared his throat and realized he was shaking. “Y-yeah… I’m here. Thanks, Ben… I- uh.. I gotta go.”

And he hung up. 

Santi came back to the house that night to the kitchen and living room turned over, looking like they’d been robbed, and speckles of blood strewn throughout. He’s been warned by Benny that Frankie might be in rough shape, and he grew more worried as he called out for Frankie, looking for him throughout every room. He finally looked down the hallway and saw light coming from under his bedroom door. He feared the worst as he approached and opened it.

Frankie was sitting on the floor leaning up against his bed, sobbing quietly as he held the glow in the dark stars in his bloody hands. 

*****

A month or so later, Frankie stumbled getting up off the couch as there was a frantic knocking at the front door. 

“Jesus Christ!”, he hissed as he banged his knee on the side table in his haste. “I’m coming, I’m coming!”

He ripped the door open, expecting to see anyone or anything other than what he did. 

You. 

No more tag lists - follow @beefnotes + turn on notifications for fic updates!

[backmuscles21]

Punishment

Tonowari x Reader x Ronal

Summary: I think the title speaks volumes. Tonowari gets angry at you for getting hurt and so he punishes you for it and Ronal happens upon you two.

Warnings: smut, porn without plot, punishment, rough sex, orgasm denial, explicit language, face fucking, dom/sub undertones, dub con, slight brat taming

Your skimwings just hit the shore, the hunting party was back. You knew the second you got off and onto the shore, you were going to get it. While on your hunting trip, you were chasing down a decent-sized fish, it would be a good score. However, as you did, you weren’t really paying attention to your surroundings, just the water below you. Turns out the rocks were closer than you thought and when you went to turn, you realized and had to maneuver not to hit them.

It just made it worse; you ended up falling off your skimwing and scrapping your hip against the jagged rock. You hissed in pain and looked at your hip, your thigh, hip, and lower side was red and angry, along with some blood seeping out of the lines of shredded skin. It wasn’t too bad, not the worst thing you’ve dealt with. You’d heal quickly and it wouldn’t stop you from hunting or working.

Tonowari quickly made his way out to you, he grabbed your spear in the water and gave you his hand.

“Are you alright, yawne?”

“Yeah, I’m fine its nothing.”

You could see the rage pooling in his eyes, he would never show it here but he was pissed. He was angry that you’d get hurt like that, that you’d be that stupid and get yourself hurt. You knew when you got home, you’d be taught a lesson and punished for your negligence. He moved around to your other side to look at your injury, the salt water making it redder as the salt sunk into the wound making it sting.

“Ronal will have a field day when you get home.”

“She will be fine. It's not that bad. I’ve come back with worse.”

He looked up at you with annoyance, “I know.”

As you came back with nets full of fish, you were glad to be done for the day and get to relax. As you got off your skimwing and it swam off, you saw Tonowari speed walking up to you, he looked pissed.

Was it bad that it was making you more wet?

He grabbed your bicep and sped back to your shared mauri; he pushed you in first. His eyes were dark, he looked so mad that you felt small and weak.

But that’s what he wanted, that’s what you wanted.

“On your knees.”

You didn’t move right away and clearly that only made Tonowari angrier.

“I said get on your knees,” he was using his chief voice and man did that do something to you.

You started to move, but not fast enough, he walked up to you and pushed you down to your knees by your shoulders. He undid his loin cloth and took his cock out, already semi-erect, he started to stroke it and once it was hard enough, he pushed his hips closer to your mouth.

“Open.”

You opened your mouth a little, you were pissing him off more by being bratty. You knew you deserved this punishment, but you wouldn’t go down without a fight. His hand went to your jaw and squeezed till your mouth opened fully and he started to push the tip in.

“You will take all of me. Till I cum down your throat.”

Your hands settled on his thick thighs and he started to thrust his hips back and forth making his tip hit the back of your throat. You gagged every time and that only made him want to continue, your nails dug into his muscular legs and tears pricked your eyes. He was fucking your mouth and you were so horny for this. He was using you the way you wanted him to and he was good at it.

You could feel the throbbing on your tongue and the roof of your mouth, he was very close. He had rough and deep puffs of air coming from his nose which also told you he was about to cum. When he did, you felt it slide right down your throat, his hand on your head gripped your braids tightly.

“I’m nowhere near done with you yet. You worried me today for something as stupid as you not paying attention. Now our mate has to heal you. She is busy enough as it is.”

He didn’t want to hurt your feelings he just wanted you to know where he came from.

He got on his knees in front of you and picked you up to lay you on your back. He as a Metkaiyna woman, both of your mates were taller than you, Tonowari having at least a whole foot on you. He was huge, him leaning over you turned you on more, and he made you feel so small and tiny.

You were eating this shit up.

He took your loincloth off and fingered you for a moment to ensure you were wet enough for him to slide in. He touched you and he smirked at you; he knew right away he didn’t even need to. You were already soaking from the moment he stared at you out on the water. You wanted him to fuck you like this, you wanted him to manhandle you, you wanted him to bruise you. He slowly pushed inside and once he bottomed out; he took no prisoners.

His hips thrusted in and out of you so fast, the top of your head hit the floor right away as you moaned out in pleasure. Your hands gripped his biceps to help ground yourself as he fucked you hard. He was hitting deep every time, you couldn’t take it, it was so fast and he was good at fucking.

The things this man made you feel.

Your legs peddled as you tried to get away from the intense pleasure and overstimulation. Your body knew where this headed, you were going to cum if he kept fucking you this good.

“Wari, please, can I cum?”

“No.”

“I have to, please, Tonowari, I can’t-“

“You will.”

He kept fucking you harder, you were crying out at this point. Tears slipped down your temple to your hairline, you were trying so hard to hold back your orgasm. Your legs kept trying to push your body away from him, his hands held your hips down as he just kept thrusting.

“Tonowari! Please, please, I have to cum. Please Wari. I need to. I can’t hold it back. Please.”

Your moans were more like cries and pleas, your body was so overstimulated and you just wanted to cum. You were lost in your own thoughts of trying not to cum, Tonowari was grunting and focused on how he moved in and out of you. Neither of you heard Ronal enter the mauri until you both heard her footsteps.

“What is going on in here?”

Your head turned to look at her, she kneeled by your head and pushed your baby hairs back from your sweaty forehead. Tonowari stopped his thrusts briefly when he saw Ronal and now, he’s back at it, making your eyes slam shut. Ronal knew that Tonowari was being rougher on you than he normally was, he didn’t get like this unless he was mad.

“What happened?”

“Look at her hip,” Tonowari grunted

She looked at your hip closest to her and nothing than the other and she could see how red and angry it was.

“Please, Wari, please, I can’t last.”

Your body was squirming heavily, you just needed to cum.

“Has she cum yet?” Ronal looked at Tonowari and he shook his head.

Her fingers rested on your lower stomach before diving down to your clit and rubbing, you arched more and screamed.

“Cum, sevin, cum.”

And you did, it was the most intense orgasm of your life. When you came so did Tonowari who, in the process of punishing you, was also edging himself.

“Now, someone tell me what happened?”

Your body was still shaking coming down from your orgasm, your breaths were still laboured.

“Hunting accident. Stupid hunting accident,” you breathed out.

Tonowari grabs you and lays you on his chest as you start to go unconscious. Ronal moves to get some herbs to make an antiseptic and anti-inflammatory paste for your scrape. She applies it gingerly on your body as you sleep on your mate’s muscular body.

“Next time you’re angry like that, don’t torture the poor girl.”

“I think she liked it. Should have seen how wet she was, I slid right in. No prep or nothing.”

“Still, she passed out right after.”

“Then I did my job right.”

She scoffed laying next to him and throwing her arm over your back to slowly rub your lower back, she knew you’d be sore tomorrow.

[like-a-omen]

Best friend! Folio

@darling-millicent-aubrey @alloraiona @english-fucker @pathion @foliosgirl @livingdeceasedgirl

18+ below the cut minors DNI

Best friend folio would definitely drag you along on fishing trips to keep him company. When it's quiet between bites he's pulled you close under the blanket rubbing slow circles on your clit, you know later when he calls it a night he's going to fuck you in the tent as his way of saying thank you for coming with him. Without warning he picks up the pace catching you off guard as a loud moan escaped you causing him to smirk at your reaction, now pulling you in for a sloppy kiss as his fingers entered you to muffle your moans you feel that familiar knot building. Your close and he knows it the way your grinding your hips into his hand tells him all he needs to know, a sudden beeping of the bite alarm pulls you back to earth and folio away from you to start reeling in the fish "sorry babe got a bite!" In that moment all you could think was fuck that fish.

Best friend folio setting up a nice little smoke session for just the two of you after hearing how rough your day at work had been, ever seen your text he's been snack shopping and pre rolling preparing for your evening. You finally arrive at his and are greeted with a big bear hug before leading you to the sofa the coffee table laid out with everything you guys will need, as you both lay there cuddled up joint passing between you both you slowly felt the stress from today melt away. Folio laid there stroking your hair and you couldn't help but smile thinking how did you get so lucky to have such a caring best friend, it was always that boys mission to make you smile and he was pretty damn good at it.

Best friend folio would 100% take any opportunity to make you laugh watching you light up like that always brightens his day, plus he thinks your laugh is just adorable he'd make it your personal ringtone if you let him. Even in the bedroom he will try to make you laugh the way it makes you clench around him puts that boy on cloud nine, thrusting into you while he's making you laugh just gives your boobs that exta bounce that he just loves.

Best friend folio would love it when you ask to go out on his bike with him, you was cruising along with no real destination but that's what made it even better you'd always find the most stunning locations. You watched the world go by arms wrapped round him tight just getting lost in the scenery it was a great way to clear your head, folio had offered plenty of times to help you learn so you could ride together and as much as you loved that idea you'd miss admiring the views. Typically you'd stop by some lake he finds before heading back, but you didn't mind you loved watching him get all excited scoping out a new potential fishing spot.

Best friend folio noticed your gaze fixated on his arms as he was practicing a new drum solo, he just knew your mind was going to some very dirty places. "Hey Y/N can you chuck the towel?" No answer "Earth to Y/N?" He snapped his fingers a few times dragging you out of your fantasy, you felt a blush creep across your face realising you'd been caught but also not having a clue what he just asked you. "Umm I thought it was great.. looked really technical" he laughed before heading over to grab the towel himself wiping away the sweat, you couldn't help but bite your lip as you watched. "Bit distracted are we? Wanna tell me what we was up to or do you wanna act it out? " That's how you ended up bent over his drum stool, the grip he had on your hips was definitely going to leave bruises but you didn't care.

Best friend folio wouldn't admit it but he'd definitely get jealous if other guys were chatting you up at a party, he could tell that they only intended to use you for the night and you just didn't deserve that. He watched this guy like a hawk and just didn't like the vibes he was giving off, so once he left he decides to save you from a night of disappointment. "Hey Y/N this party is a bit lame wanna come back to mine and have a smoke?" Shortly after you both was in a uber on the way to folios the guy that was flirting with you wasn't that interesting anyway, besides he probably couldn't fuck you better than your best friend. Folio definitely made sure it wasn't a disappointing night you started to wonder if come round for a smoke was just code for sex, because here you are getting absolutely railed into next week by your best friend.

Hope you like it! I really enjoyed writing this one so expect some more best friend folio in the future 😉

[prettyflyforawhitelie]

Hazbin Hotel Beach! Headcanons

Characters: Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, Angel, Husk, Sir Pentious, Nifty, Lucifer, Adam, Cherri

A/N: Hey guys! I am just so ready for summer to come so I can relax on the beach… so i thought it would be fun to do some beach headcanons for our favorite sinners!

😈🗝️Charlie🗝️😈:

Definitely the one that organized this entire beach day.

Though this is supposed to encourage relaxation, she is sort of stressed making sure that everyone gets along. 

Very adamant that everyone wears their sunscreen.

Drags Vaggie into the water to play around and try to find fish.

Makes sure everything is as perfect as it can get. Snacks? Check. Tons of water and drinks? Check. Umbrellas and tents? Check. Speakers? You bet!

Once she tires herself out, she takes a very well-deserved nap in the sand.

🪽⚔️Vaggie⚔️🪽:

Spend the trip making sure that Charlie finally gets a day to relax and not worry so much.

The second anyone tries to splash her or throw sand at her, a full blown beach battle ensues.

Will definitely be the one to dig holes in the sand and see how deep she can make it.

Was planning on relaxing and sunbathing, but gave in to Charlie's begging to go swimming (and actually enjoyed it a lot).

The second Charlie takes a nap, Vaggie will guard her to make sure that nobody disturbs her needed sleep. 

Makes sure to put more sunscreen on Charlie while she’s asleep so she won’t get burned.

🦌📻Alastor📻🦌:

This man is allergic to the sun.

Like, he’s covered from head to toe in sunscreen, wearing far too much clothing given the fact that he’s at the beach, and hides in a beach tent for the entirety of the day. 

Angel thought it would be funny to toss some sand into his tent until Alastor sent one of his shadows after him and he ran away screaming.

Like… Why did he agree to come??

He does enjoy listening to some of the music that Charlie plays until he realizes that it’s coming from a phone and not a radio (Al, who the fuck brings a radio to the beach?).

The only person that he lets come into his tent is Niffty, because she just over exhausts herself and takes a nap in the shade.

🕷️💖Angel Dust💖🕷️:

Definitely the life of the party.

Is wearing the most stylish bikini and the cuntiest sunglasses, just a total beach diva.

Though Charlie insisted that the only drinks allowed were water and soda, Angel manages to sneak a couple bottles of Beelzejuice so he and Husk can actually have some fun.  

Builds sand castles with Cherri Bomb, gets extremely upset if somebody messes it up.

Absolutely demolishes the competition in a game of beach volleyball (Having 6 arms comes in handy). 

Also wins any sort of swimming contest that Vaggie challenges him to (Again, 6 arms really gives you an advantage).

Definitely sees some cute guys and fake-flirts with them to get Husk’s attention.

♥️🥃Husk🥃♥️:

He’s a cat demon for a reason, any time Angel tries to drag him into the water, the hairs on his back rise and he hisses in disdain. 

The group eventually gives up on trying to get him to swim, letting him relax in the sand instead.

Drinks almost all of Angel's alcohol stash and passes out in the sand, curled into a purring ball, wings protecting him from being burned.

Angel takes a picture of him like this, and when he later finds it in Angel’s room he threatens to kill him if he doesn't immediately get rid of it (secretly thinks it's sweet that angel cares enough to hang a photo of him in his room.)

After much begging, he agrees to play beach volleyball with Angel, Cherri, and Vaggie. He absolutely sucks and gets pissed if anybody makes fun of him for it (except for Angel. He’ll allow it).

Ends up carrying most of the heavy stuff after they decide to leave.

🐍⚙️Sir Pentious⚙️🐍:

Decides to bring his Egg Bois, but ends up worried that they’ll literally cook the whole time so he makes a little hole for them in the sand to cool off. 

“Uhh.. Miss Cherri, would you like to build a sandcastle with me?” “Why? I thought we were mortal enemies, old man!” “Uh.. ummm… because I’m asking EVERYONE to build a sandcastle with me…!”

Hangs out in the water the whole time because it’s much easier to maneuver in water than on sand as a snake. 

Built a machine specifically made to drill holes underground, somehow ends up making an entire tunnel system under the sand. This eventually leads to Vaggie walking on a particularly weak spot on the sand and literally falling into the caved-in tunnel. She was pissed off, to say the least, and banned the use of any “inventions” for the rest of the day.

Really wants to impress Cherri and join in on her volleyball game, but is way too shy. He’ll just cheer her on and admire her from the sidelines.

Loves napping in the sun -  being at the beach is like laying under one big heat lamp, so his cold-blooded self delights in it.

🪳🪡Niffty🪡🪳:

Because there are no bugs for her to kill, she will literally hunt hermit crabs for sport. It’s actually horrifying. 

Sir Pentious soon regrets building the whole tunnel system thing because Niffty starts crawling around in it and jumpscaring people at random. 

Somebody has to have their eye on her the entire time, or she will disappear without a trace and just - become one with the crabs?

Eventually tires herself out and takes a nap in Alastor’s tent (Much to everyone’s relief).

Definitely brings up the idea of going out to get a treat after, like ice cream or snow cones, which surprisingly everyone agrees with. 

Ends up sneaking a few small animals back with her to the hotel.

🍒💣Cherri Bomb💣🍒:

Thought it was lame when Charlie insisted on a “sin-free” trip, but had a little hope when Angel told her about the drinks he snuck in. Got extra pissed when she found Husk passed out with all of the bottles empty.

Was the one who initiated all of the athletic games, she just needs an outlet to blow some steam off.

When she’s not playing in the sun, she lays on her towel and makes designs on herself using sunscreen so she can have some cute marks after she’s done tanning. 

Thought it was adorable that Sir Pentious set up his towel and things suspiciously close to her because it was “the only spot where the sun coated him evenly” (Like what? Dude could not be more obvious.)

Brought a surfboard because she used to love surfing before she died and tries to teach anybody who’s willing to learn. 

Sets off one of her bombs underwater to create the biggest wave anybody’s ever seen (it ends up soaking everybody else, and she has to make it up to them by covering the ice cream bill later).

🐣👹Lucifer👹🐣:

Only came because Charlie insisted that it would be a good father-daughter bonding experience.

Kind of puts everyone on their toes - can they even have fun with the king of Hell watching their every move? (This helps Charlie prolong her nap - nobody wants to joke around or mess with her in front of her dad).

Tensions are high until he joins the volleyball game and shows everyone that yes, the king of Hell can be fun too.

Everyone relaxes after this, but they relax more when Lucifer shyly gives each of them a rubber duck that looks just like them. When Charlie asked him about this, he replied “I guess if they’re your friends, they should be my friends too.”

Has a huge rubber duck inflatable pool float that he brings to float around on.

Claims that he doesn’t like going to the beach, but the matching swim trunks and Hawaiian shirt that he just happened to have in his closet says differently.

🎸👼Adam👼🎸:

Has the original dad bod and will 100% flaunt it and talk about how sexy he is (nobody is listening.)

Wasn’t actually even invited, but he ended up seeing the rest of them there and hoped that he could make them miserable if he hung out just close enough to them.

Steals Cherri’s surfboard and brags about how he’s about to demolish the waves, but absolutely eats shit and will never hear the end of it.

Doesn’t realize Lucifer is there until he sees him glaring at him from a nearby tent and gets scared shitless.

Will deny it if anybody asks, but he’s secretly looking for the perfect seashell to bring back to Heaven and surprise Lute with. 

Everyone genuinely celebrates when he gets bored and finally decides to leave (cue that one duck meme “ADAM!”) 💀

[rdr2stories]

"Am I somehow so terrible that the woman who birthed me no longer deserved the affection of the man whos love created me?" A rdr fanfiction.

A short fanfiction about Jack Marston.

My uncle stood next to me, the brim of his hat shielded his eyes from the sun coming down from above. He held a fishing pole in his hand, his line ended somewhere out in the middle of the river where he had thrown it. My line is only half his length, my small arms could not handle more, he had caught three fish, I had yet to catch anything. I found fishing boring, the flowers in the grass further up the shore looked pretty, they made a nice necklace to mama.

Father, I can’t help but remember that day when you asked me to fish with you, when you grabbed the bucket and the two fishing rods. You looked awkward, but happy somehow, you didn’t quite know what to do with me, I didn’t quite know what to feel. I still found fishing boring but caught a fish before you did, you were impressed and I was unsuccessful in keeping spite from my voice when I told you it was uncle who taught me. You simply replied “oh did he now?”

Uncle was never a good fisherman, yet the day he taught me he told me I was the second little boy he had taught to fish, I used to wonder why I didn’t have a cousin if that was so, but with time it simply made me realise why he hated you.

He died eight years prior to that fishing trip with you father, meaning it had been eight years since my first fishing trip. I had been just four and when I stood with the rod in my hands again I had been just twelve, it had been just eight years since uncles death, you barely talk about him, your brother, I barely remember what he looks like, but I remember what I had seen him as; my father. He brought me a comic book, and I drew him a drawing of a family, it had been him who had taken the place of the father, not you, I carried not his blood but to me he was my father.

It has been eight years, eight years since your eyes last held disgust, eight years since you last yelled at me, eight years since you decided that you wanted to be my father.

While I forgave I never forgot and I never stopped wondering. Oh father, what did I do for you to reject me? What did I do to be unworthy of your love and why was it first when you decided I fit into your life that you allowed me to be your son? Whatever could a child still growing in the womb have done to make you hate it? I am a creation of love, I shared the blood of the woman you held dear, yet that affection not only did not extent to me it was also cut off from her when she came to carry me.

Am I somehow so terrible that the woman who birthed me no longer deserved the affection of the man whos love created me?

Father, did you forget? That day on the riverbed, had you forgetten the way you used to look at me? The way you never even tried to hide your disgust but would shout it so everyone would hear, you were so ashamed by me that you chose to humiliate your son of four years in front of everyone in the area. I cried to mama that day because my child brain did not understand that you hated her just as much as you did me, that she was just as hurt by the way you shouted at her as I was by the way you looked at me.

Father, did you know I used to hide in my aunt’s skirts yet I could still hear the sound when she slapped your cheek through the fabric? I remember it even now though she has not laid her hand on you for eight years, she wanted you to accept me. I was too young to know then, but I now know what she meant when she said “I don’t care how you feel about me, but at least make an effort with the boy.” Did you yell at her for telling you to love me?

Father, did you know I don’t react to my own name? The one we share? The one given to me by my mother before you decided to give me a nickname because the idea that the two of us would share four letters made you angry? I have never once been called by our name, though it has always been a dream of mine.

When you speak to me, you speak as if your voice has never carried anything but love, I wish it was the truth, and although I am happy it doesn’t give sour comments no more I can’t help but wonder when you decided I was worth your time? Was it first when you saw someone else take the role you had taken for granted?

I know the man you called father, the man I called grandfather, never carried your blood and you never his, yet it was also him you drew on drawings and it was him you taught you to fish. We are similar in that sense and because of that I can’t help but wonder when you took me to that riverbed, did you hope you could teach me to fish?

[bowieandqueen11]

Celebrating Roman Roy’s Birthday Would Include...

Request: OOOOOH i have one if you don't mind. how about hcs for celebrating roman's birthday? cause as we know when it comes to roys there's inevitably Something Traumatic happening on every holiday, i just want him to have a good day with someone who loves him🥺

Love honestly so true he deserves someone to just love him without condition :( I am FEELING

Warning: strong language, implied eating disorder and mentions of childhood mental/physical abuse!

(I do not own Succession or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @bettercallgerri.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Roman Roy decided very early on the day to make an incredibly sensible decision. For the next twenty three and a half hours, he was going to ignore his phone every time it started vibrating in his jacket pocket, and irritated the skin against his breast. He was going to squeeze his eyes shut, and pick at his fingernails when at one in the afternoon, on the dot, his sister would send exactly the same generic fruit basket for his birthday as she did the previous year. He would crinkle his nose in irritation when the eldest Roy sent him a comic voicemail about how ‘he was still that little pup that threw a fish at him’ during their camping trip, despite his age.

And worst of all, and perhaps the most difficult for Roman Roy, he wasn’t going to feel depressed once about how his father had forgotten his birthday again. Well, not until he received the stereotypical rushed job of a blank card and sloppy signature of his father typed at the bottom the next day, sent as if he were signing a cheque. He wrote it off as being just another transaction: signing away all the love he owed Roman, justifying it as the price one has to pay for success. Only then would Roman allow himself to excuse off to the bathroom for a moment, before curling up into a ball and crying into his knees as he had done for every birthday he could remember.

He just wanted to spend one day: one single, solitary, sought after, scorned day to spend with the one person in his life he had always loved without hesitation. With the only person who truly saw him. Who loved him for who he was right now, and who, you knew, he should be. So, he decided the rest of his family could go fuck themselves for a meagre twenty four hours, while he made the most of snuggling up to you in bed.

Roman’s always been a naturally restive man at heart, and so it wasn’t long until that little goblin smirk of his came peering past the duvet and over your shoulder. 

‘You know what?’, he murmured, resting his elbow by his head so he could turn and lie facing you properly. ‘Fuck it. We should just, I don’t fucking know, stay here all day until we have become one with the comforter.’ 

‘As lovely as that sounds’, you stretch up and groan, slapping Roman’s hand away as he reaches up to tickle under your armpit. ‘I have plans, I’m afraid.’

‘You- fucking- what? You have plans, are you fucking me right now?’ For a second he jumps up, his eyes squinting as he stares at you crestfallen. But then he sees the smile you’re trying to hide twitch at the corner of your lips, and he falls back down onto the mattress unceremoniously. While he reaches around and tries to thump you in the face with his pillow, you take the opportunity to wrestle his arm and loop it around your own. He gladly gives in, settling down next to you again as you continue: ‘I may have plans, but you’re very welcome to join in with them. If you’re nice to me, that is.’

‘I’m always fucking nice to you’, Roman mutters, but he reaches up to accept the kiss you’re trying to place on the side of his stubble. ‘Good’, you turn back to look at the alarm clock on your bedside table, ‘because we have to be up and out in approximately fifteen minutes.’

‘You are full of fucking surprises, you know that? God, I love you.’

Ever since you and Roman were seven years old, and his father had hit him for the first time after sneaking you up the side of his bedroom window for a sleepover his father had strictly forbidden, as he deemed Roman getting up bright and early for his fencing lessons the next morning to be far more important, you had kept a list in your head of all the mundane things Roman had been punished for as a child. Every birthday since then, you tried to strike one off the list, and this year you had decided to plan ahead, and asked Karolina to hire out a park for you a couple of states away for a water fight. 

It was silly, and stupid, and childish, but when Roman sauntered into the kitchen after his shower and saw you trying to shove pretty hefty super soakers into your backpack, his face lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning. Hence the two of you flying off in your own private helicopter, trying to place a little wriggle room between Roman and the rest of the Roys; you felt almost ridiculous for a moment, whizzing past buildings and waving treelines with only a couple of water guns on you, but Roman was gripping onto your fingers so tightly the whole journey that the embarrassment flooded away. The whole time, his foot was tapping against the edge of yours like a wasp’s sting, his bottom lip nearly bloody from how hard he was chewing it. Whether it was from anticipation, or whether he had the foresight to anticipate the abuse he was going to garner from his father for the wasted journey and tabloid pictures you didn’t know. You held his hand back just as tightly, praying for him to have just one happy day.

Thankfully, once you arrived, Roman literally leapt out of the helicopter like some kind of Doberman. He shrugged off his coat and threw it back into the cabin, before rustling in the bag to grab his loot. Before you could even question what he was doing, a chilled gust of water came splatting you straight up the face, and hurtling you backwards. Let’s just say, Roman’s high pitched hyena laugh was heard all around the fringes of the daisy-strewn field, as he went skidding across the blades like a wanted criminal.

Sometimes, you would hold your hands up as if in defeat, and he would come strutting over to you with his gun in the air and one hand on his waist. Stating that you had run out of water, you wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face as he came and tried to pull your hands behind your back. He walked you both backwards until you were pinned against the tree, and although he’s doing his best to look all sexy, and mysterious, and sheriff like as he tries to unlatch your fingers slowly from the triggers, it was a huge mistake. Using the distraction, you pull his own gun from him and pull his shirt forward, spraying water straight down his bare chest.

‘Oh, you fucker!’

If anyone could see the two of you: sprinting about like children in the mud, not caring as bits of wet dirt skidded up and stained your suit shirts. Parading through the flowers, laughter pealing like bells wherever you went. They would think you were free, and perhaps, for a moment, you both were.

At one point Roman comes swinging down from an oak tree and scares the living absolute fuck out of you. For a second he looks afraid: that remnant of his father’s ‘love’ making him feel sick to his stomach, but that is quickly alleviated when you come over and trace down the slight stubble of his neck. Your pointer finger comes to trace up his chin, and then over the top of his lip, before you lean up and gently melt your lips against his awaiting ones.

The two of you decide (once you’ve managed to unlatch spider monkey from you) to swing your legs up over the tree branch and sit up there for a while, like you used to do when you were teenagers sickly sweet in a hidden, reciprocated love. Back in the days when Roman would carry himself, wounded and crying, to trudge around his father’s estate and find wherever your newest hidie-hole from the world was. It didn’t matter if it was underneath one of the neighbouring orchard trees, or out sitting on a lounge chair on his bedroom balcony, or tucked up inside one of the pool sheds, hidden between unused surfboards and half-chewed pool noodles, Roman had a sixth sense when it came to finding you. You, too, always knew he was coming: mainly from the sound of impeding sniffles, and you had your arm out and ready for him to come curl up into. Against his side, he would crest himself like the fallen son, trying to make himself as small a target as possible against your chest. 

Sometimes you would tuck a book out from your bag and read to him. Other times, the two of you would just chatter like soft sunlight amidst the dark blots of his father’s pristine possessions. Most of all, Roman would usually fall into an uneasy sleep against your neck, and would only rise again once the irritated call of his newest nanny rang out from the veranda.

It had taken him a while to realise he could feel safe in your arms, rather than just hide away, but when he did, he would rest his head on your shoulder and wish he could stay alone with you forever.

So he was more than delighted to re-enact his favourite parts of his childhood with you, even if he can’t fully settle his whole heart into it. You try your best to seem as nonchalant as ever: leaning your head back until it scratches on the bark, swinging one leg over until it catches the sharp gleam of the cresting mid-afternoon sun. Roman’s hunched over, sitting in between your legs, and although he’s being set alight with some kind of giddiness that he can freely be with you now without having to hide, his body’s response is still set to flight or fight. His fingers dance over your legs like a skimming dragonfly, running over the inseams before landing on your ankles and squeezing. 

Becoming over alert of how his eyes keep darting away from you, as if he’s still awaiting the strike he knows is punishment for daring to show love towards anyone, you reach out for him. After an awkward moment of manoeuvring, the two of you manage to reach an agreement on how to sit: you still leaning back, and Roman now lying against your chest, with his legs straight out against the skittish twigs. He looks ethereal against the soft rolls of honey that seemed to drape around the two of you, the crimson burnt fringes of the leaves protecting him from the outside world. And yet Roman still jumps when he feels your fingers brush against the edge of his face, as if you had been trying to burn him. 

It’s taken time. It takes time. It will take time. But to you, using all the understanding and patience in the world would be worth it, if it allowed Roman Roy to live. So you just hold him around the waist, and wait for him to become comfortable. You whisper quotes from your favourite books into his ears, and the sky slowly begins to roll over with lavender and a deep blushing maroon, you tell him about the new memes online from Connor’s campaign. He snorts at that, almost twitching awake in your grasp, but you appreciate the way he tries by leaning backwards and languidly blinking, pressing a brushing kiss against your bottom lip.

Before the two of you return home, he decides he wants to see how ‘the peasants live’ by eating in a normal restaurant. Although he shudders at your implication that he’s turning into Cousin Greg, it ends up being one of the happiest dining experiences of his life. Roman had always had a difficult relationship with food: between his mother’s teasing about his looks at the dining table when he was a toddler, to his father smacking him for bad table manners, to every adult dinner party revolving around sub-plots and back-stabbing, he’d found it all difficult to swallow. Being with you, thankfully, made the experience a little easier.

He even found himself laughing when the sushi you had tried to feed him with your chopsticks came flopping down onto the table in a mushed heap of rice and wasabi, and the joy didn’t leave his face as you came up to cradle his face and wipe bits of salmon away from the lines of his lips. The whole time, he was incredibly aware of how carelessly he allowed his knee to rest against your own; he was conscious of how other customers might notice the way he held your hand over the bar stools between courses, but for the first time in his life, he allowed himself the freedom not to care.

One of the waitresses makes a comment about how sweet the two of you look together on the way out, and oh my god does Roman ride that high the whole way back to the park. Cue him being a full peachy, blubbering, hyper mess, with giggles only a dog could hear slipping out of his mouth every ten metres down the pavements.

You give him his present when you get home: you’d collated over the last couple of months some of your favourite pictures, both of you and Roman over the years, as well as full family shots. You had asked Connor, Kendall and Shiv to add some of their favourite memories in the margins of the shots, until the black and white photobook was bursting with neatly looped letters and little drawings of dicks (kindly added by Ken.)

Roman chokes when he sees it. He fists his hand into his mouth, shrugging as his eyes widen, brimming with tears as he flips through the pages. He starts getting over hyper, repeating over and over and over again that ‘yeah, yeah- it’s nice, I like it’, because he thinks it’s some kind of trick. Because he can’t handle the thought of his siblings loving him without some sort of condition. Because just one kind word it’s what he’s been seeking from them his whole life, and your eyes widen in horror as you realise why he’s taking a step backwards. Why his bottom lip is jutting out. Why he looks like a noose is tightening around his neck. You glance down, and you can see it in all the pictures: in every frame, his siblings are looking dead-on, deadpan into the camera, and he’s glancing up at them. In the pictures with you, he’s clearly choking down the love that’s bursting out of his every being as he gazes at you in every. single. one. 

It guts you to realise it’s taking you so long to reciprocate just a little of that love that’s been suffocating him his whole life.

He regresses into Logan Roy mode, and it breaks your heart all the more; he wanders over to the cabinet to pour a tumbler of whiskey for the two of you, before settling himself down on the edge of the settee. He pulls out his phone, getting prepared to come back to himself: to scroll through the news channel and chat with you about the events he’d missed while taking a few hours off for himself.

Yet he doesn’t complain when you tenderly take his hand, choosing instead not to let him wallow. You lead him over to one of the armchairs over looking the cityscape, pushing on his chest until he collapses down into it. With a content sigh, he watches you go choose a book from the collection you had curated by the television, before coming back to squeeze yourself in beside him. He’s half sitting on your lap, but neither of you really give a stuff as he winds his arms around your neck and settles against your heartbeat. With his head on your collar bone, and your finger mindlessly drawing patterns in the tufts of hair behind his ear, you begin to read aloud to him. From time to time you peer behind the spine and catch his eye, and it makes you fumble over your words a little when you spot him. He’s gazing up at you as if you were perfection incarnate, and for the first time in his sorrowful life, Roman Roy begins his next year on this planet with one hopeful thought smacking around the inside of his head: perhaps this year, he won’t have to suffer just for being Roman.

[desicanary]

Some thoughts after finishing the double that I need to expel from my consciousness:

1. I haven't enjoyed a show so much in a while. It had all the drama, and it didn't sacrifice it for the romance

2. Princess Wanning! She killed her dad and I think that was queen shit. She should have killed more people, frankly. She deserves to do so much murder

3. Shen Yurong how I hate you. This man is not only a murderer and a coward, he's also incompetent. None of his plans have ever worked. Mans couldn't manage to successfully kill his wife even if every god were on his side. I loved every time Xue Fangfei did psychic damage to him simply by existing

4. Xue Fangfei! Xue Li! Jiang Li! Xiao Limao! A'Li! Many other terms of address I've missed! She truly is that girl. She is gaslight gatekeep girl boss. She's a girl's girl. She stabbed a man in the dick 7 times. She has the man who once called her a pawn wrapped around her pinkie. When her man tells her he has to get into a political marriage for the nation she says do it then, and then he has to admit he was never gonna. She inflicted +9999999999999 damage on those who wronged her and Jiang Li. She can't fight to save her life (as evident) but can and will confuse her opponent into tripping over their own nonexistent shoelaces

5. I loved the progression of the relationship between A'Li and Xiao Heng. They weren't immediately lovers or friends. They fully used each other until they were willing to be used. The chemistry, the flirting, it's too much and too good. Also, Xiao Heng serves. See: the fans, the fucking gold plated murder fan, a walk-in closet full of capes, the most dramatic entrances known to cdramas, and all the audacity

6. BUT what were the last 20 minutes! They don't exist to me! My buddies Wen Ji and Lu Ji are watching their boss embarass himself at Duke Su's mansion and sharing in the hot goss, to me

7. Plus, I've gotta be missing something about the Longwu army. I do not understand them at all. Not a single one of them would survive the Nuremberg precedent. Not only are they not guided by ethics and morals, they're also not guided by loyalty or revenge or anger or hate or any understandable motivation. Instead, they're guided by a rock carving of a fish. wut. They find out the dude holding the fish works for the guy who betrayed and killed their general, their comrades, and even some of their family. And their response is: "How could they?!?!?! But we still have to listen to them because they have the fish!" Truly what. Someone explain this all-powerful rock fish to me

8. I do think that the Jiangs deserved more. And by more I mean worse. I think Xue Li should have told Jiang Yuanbai exactly how Jiang Li lived and died, and that she hated him for his negligence. I think she should have told the grandma too. They had their hand in this and they deserve to feel the full weight of Jiang Li's life and death and hatred

9. Also Jiang Yuanbai being like "It's not that I didn't know what was going on at home it's just that I was so busy working for the nation uwu". Sir, disrespectfully, no. You had not a clue. And if you did, that makes it worse. Like "Oh no! I'm so busy working that I have no choice but to let my wife frame my 8 yr old for her own attempted murder! The murder of the same stepmom that she, until yesterday, adored! Oh well, I gotta go to work so I'll just let that happen and abandon her for 10 years until politics makes it necessary for me to bring her home! And I'll feel really bad about abandoning her now, but I'll also never believe a single word out her mouth!" Actually, I think he should be hunted for sport

10. Anyway, that got off track! But I love this show, and how even the antagonists have arcs and backstories and aren't countering our girl just cuz. I love the fleshed out characters, all the looks it serves, the drama, and the adorable Wen Ji and Lu Ji and Jiang Jingrui

[verdemoun]

feed me :3

first, just because everyone deserves to suffer the way we did

arthur didn't find two wooden crosses in the yard when he went to visit eliza and isaac for isaac's 6th birthday. he found them dead in a ransacked house. except - they'd been dead for weeks. he had to bury them himself.

arthur still didn't get to hold isaac one last time. his corpse was so decomposed, arthur had to pick him up in the ratty blanket that had been pulled over his tiny body so that he wouldn't fall apart.

a fresh batch of angst

dutch never loved molly. he liked having a beautiful woman in his arms hanging onto his every word for the power of it, and the only reason he picked molly was because she was a redhead. he never dated women with the same hair color as one of his past affairs, because he truly believed in collecting women like trophies. if john had brought up molly in 1911, or even 1907, dutch wouldn't have remembered who she was until he said 'the red haired one'

molly was pregnant in rdr2 and that was exactly what she was trying to talk to dutch about in the chapters 3+4. originally, she had been ecstatic and caught herself in daydreams of raising a precious baby boy with dutch's dark hair and her curls, and the idea of being mammy instead of miss o'shea made her knees weak. dutch robbed her of that fantasy by being an absolute prick, and it sunk in like the chill of colter that they would never have that soft, innocent life together. molly had never been a heavy drinker, but uncle later found her in a bar blind drunk because she was intentionally trying to drink herself to miscarriage.

while bessie and hosea made it work, him returning to outlawing, as sweet and patient and effervescent as bessie was, she hated hosea for leaving her. the day he decided to ride back, knowing where the gang was (part of the reason why he hadn't sooner), she stood in the doorway of their little cottage together and pleaded for him not to go the exact same way abigail cried for john not to go after micah.

while still loving him, and them finding a way to make things work with hosea often visiting for days/weeks at a time and bessie regularly catching up with the gang to see her husband and darling boy, the heartbreak of him choosing the gang over her had a permanent impact on her health. hosea realised this, and after she passed away of illness he considered himself her murderer for not staying.

even through the year he spent drunk after bessie died, hosea visited her grave as often as he had visited when she was alive, and would spend weeks sleeping alone in what had once been their happy little abode just so he could go into the garden and talk to her headstone. silently, one of the reasons he began doubting and second-guessing dutch is because they fled east after blackwater - which made it impossible to go visit bessie's grave, or the cottage they'd shared.

at least once arthur was sent to collect hosea from one of his trips to see bessie, much like the gang are sent after him when he goes awol. he found hosea passed out drunk with a bottle at his side, laying on her grave as if he would open his eyes to see her laying beside him.

arthur hated seeing hosea's grave in lemoyne. while the tree and quietness, a view of the lannahechee river when the old man had loved fishing so much, was as beautiful as they could ask for given the circumstances, he knew deep down hosea had always hoped to be able to go home and be buried beside bessie.

[vodika-vibes]

Could I please request a mystic same faces gods au with Echo, I feel like Echo would be the god of the people who are physically and mentally affected by war or something.

I also like that Rex could maybe be the god of survivors guilt a more last one standing type thing, the good and the bad, because I saw you were having trouble writing for him.

No hurry on this I know you have a shit ton of requests, so be sure to pace yourself and don't feel bad for taking time off for writing.

Accidents Happen

Summary: War has swept through your small village. The Imperial army has killed almost everyone. You’re one one a handful of people who managed to escape the slaughter. And now you have to bury your people.

Pairing: TBB Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 1996

Prompt: Mystic AU - Same faced gods AU

Warnings: Reader survives two massacres

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So it took me a little bit to come up with an idea that I was happy with. And, while I'll never say migraines are good, taking two days off back-to-back seems to have helped me get my mojo back. Anyway, I hope this is close to what you wanted!

It’s hot.

So very hot.

You push a strand of sweaty hair out of your face and then kneel next to the small canoe that you’ve been repairing for the better part of the day. Confident that it’s as repaired as it needs to be, for what it’s going to be used for, you straighten and wave toward a man near the water.

He waves back and then says something to the teenager standing in front of him before he turns and jogs over to you. “This one all set?” He asks.

“Yeah, it’s not perfect, but it’ll work.”

He kneels and checks on your work before he nods once. “You didn’t do half bad. Good enough for someone who has never done this before.”

You shrug, “Thanks, I guess.”

He shoots you a sympathetic look, and lightly touches your shoulder, “We’re almost done here.”

“And then what?”

He averts his gaze, “I don’t know, kiddo. I really don’t. But, we’ll make it through this.” He squeezes your shoulder, “Will you go and make sure that the bows are all in working order?”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“Good lass,” He pauses, “We’re going to be okay. You’ll see.”

You’re not sure you believe him. You’re not sure you want to believe him, but you don’t have the energy to argue with him. So you just nod and turn to trudge towards the hunter’s hut.

Three days ago, you joined your uncle and cousin on a fishing trip upriver. It was supposed to be a fun day, you were going to teach your cousin how to repair fishing nets, and your uncle was going to teach him how to find the best places to lay nets, and throw out a line.

A sudden violent storm forced the three of you to take refuge in a cave miles from home. The storm raged for hours, and you were only able to return to the fishing village after your uncle determined that it was safe to get back on the water.

You returned to the aftermath of a massacre. 

Homes burned to the ground, market stalls shattered in pieces, and bodies strewn across the place.

There were no survivors.

But then, when the Empire decides that a place no longer deserves to exist, it’s quickly wiped off the map.

This brings it up to two massacres that you’ve survived since you were born. The first one happened when you were a child, your Uncle had always been a loud adversary against Palpatine and the Empire, and the Empire decided that his whole family needed to die for it.

That time you escaped with a missing arm and severe burns across the majority of your back. Though almost your entire family survived the massacre.

You suppose there was no way you were going to get that lucky twice.

Which brings you to now.

It’s not possible to bury the dead, the village is too close to the water, so the village practices water burials. When done right, they’re beautiful and tastefully done.

However, with only three people, and one of them under the age of 15, these funerals aren’t going to be beautiful or comforting. It’s just going to be another reminder of everything you’ve lost.

And you’ve lost everything.

You stand in front of the Hunters hut, your hands, both flesh and metal, are shaking, and all you want to do is close your eyes and pretend that the last week never happened, and you can open your eyes and your mom will be there again—

But that’s not possible anymore. 

Your mom is dead. Just like your dad. And your brothers.

And you come to the stark realization that you can’t do this.

You drop your hand to your side and then pull your hands to your chest. You can’t do this. You can’t be here. You can’t stay here.

It’s too much. It’s all too much.

With that final thought, you turn on your heels and you run into the forest.

You’re vaguely aware of your uncle and your cousin calling your name, but you ignore them.

Maybe, if you run far enough fast enough, everything will stop hurting. 

You run until your lungs are burning and your legs are aching, and then you keep going. You run and run and run until the moon rises over the horizon and your legs collapse under you.

A roll of thunder jerks you from your spiraling thoughts. Slowly, you push yourself to your aching feet and look around the dark forest, looking for shelter. 

There.

Not far from where you finally collapsed is a massive tree. If nothing else, the branches will offer you some shelter from the weather. Though, as you approach the tree, you realize that there’s a hollow beneath the tree.

It’s risky. Very risky.

But a sharp crack of lightning loud enough to make you flinch encourages you to toss caution to the wind as you carefully lower yourself into the hollow.

The hollow is bigger than you expect.

The tunnel leads deeper and deeper beneath the tree until you trip over a tree root and fall into a room that can only be described as magic. If only because the moment you fall into the room, braziers light up with a warm flame.

Warm in the sense that the moment they light, the coldness that’s sunk into your very bones since the day you discovered the massacre lessens, and you feel like you can breathe for the first time in days.

You shift so that you’re sitting properly, and look around the room properly.

The walls seem to be made up of roots from the tree sitting over you, while the ground feels like it’s some kind of stone.

Most interesting is the bed nestled against the wall. The bed looks clean and the blankets look warm. And, even though the bed looks brand new, it doesn’t look like anyone has been down here aside from you in ages.

Thunder rumbles loudly above you and you nervously bite your lower lip, before slowly walking over and sitting on the bed. It’s softer than you expected, like something from another life, rather than a random bed found under a random tree miles from civilization, and you can’t help but run your hand across the soft, almost velvety, material of the blanket.

When was the last time you had the chance to enjoy something nice like this?

Years, probably.

Surely there’s no harm in sleeping here, just until the storm finishes. Just until you feel better. Until you feel like you can face your uncle without screaming at him for ruining your life.

You kick off your shoes and lay your head on the pillow, burying yourself in the soft blanket and the soft material, and drifting off into the best sleep you’ve had in years.

You wake the following morning feeling more rested than you’ve ever felt in your life.

There were no nightmares, no memories of burning skin or laughing monsters lurking in the shadows. You still feel like you’re in a dream, kind of.

You feel warm, floaty…and safe.

You can’t remember the last time you felt safe.

Slowly you sit up, though you really don’t want to, and you’re about to swing your legs off the bed when you notice the strange man sitting at a table that definitely wasn’t there the night before.

He graces you with a small smile, “Good morning,”

In your experience, a strange man in your sleeping quarters is not generally a good thing, but you aren’t afraid of him. Actually, you still feel very safe.

“...good morning.” You greet slowly.

His smile widens, and you can’t help but notice that he has a nice smile. “Did you sleep well?”

You consider him for a moment, “I did. Better than I have since I was an infant, probably.”

“Good, I’m glad.” He stands, and you note that he has a prosthetic arm, and both of his legs are prosthetics. “My name is Echo, this,” He gestures to the room with his prosthetic hand, “you can call it my temple.”

“Temple?” You ask as you swing your legs over the side of the bed. You notice his gaze drop to your legs, specifically the burn scars on your left leg. Normally you’d toss the blanket over your leg, and make a smart comment about how staring is rude, but you have the feeling that he isn’t judging you.

“Temple.” Echo agrees. He crosses the room to you and kneels at your feet, it feels wrong, somehow, but you can’t quite put into words why it feels so wrong, “I am the Patron God of the innocents who have been irreversibly harmed by war.”

His flesh hand brushes against the scars on your leg, and for once, you don’t jerk your leg away.

“I don’t understand.”

His smile is sad, “You summoned me.”

“I didn’t.”

He brings his hand up to cup your cheek, “Unlike my brothers, I can only be summoned under a very specific set of circumstances. Involving physical injury,” He lightly touches his prosthetic hand to yours, “and mental anguish.”

“That’s an awful way to have to be summoned.” You finally say.

He chuckles, “Well, because of the very specific requirements of my summoning, this is the first time I’ve been summoned.”

“I’m sorry, you must have been busy—”

“Not so busy that I couldn’t come when called,” There’s something strangely fond about the look on his face, and you can’t help but reach up and brush your fingers against the ports on the side of his head, “I also admit to being excited to finally having a priestess.”

That should make you nervous, right?

“But I didn’t summon you intentionally.”

“That’s been happening a lot lately,” Echo replies, amused.

“I don’t know anything about being a priestess.” You add with a small frown.

He lightly pulls you off the bed so that you’re sitting in his lap, and his forehead lightly presses against your own. “Close your eyes.” Immediately, and without really thinking about it, you do as he asks. “Good, very good. Do you feel it, cyare? There’s the beginning of a bond—”

He trails off as you find the thin thread connecting yourself to Echo. It’s thin and wispy, like a spider thread, though you have the feeling that it won’t break easily. 

You lightly touch the thread and feel a surge of affection from Echo, and you can’t help the small sigh that falls from your lips. “Is that…you?”

“It is.”

“It feels like it should be stronger,” You murmur.

“It will become stronger, once we solidify the bond.” Echo promises, “That will come naturally, we don’t have to rush.”

You hum softly, although—

“We don’t have to, but you want to,” You notice, as you focus on the bond for a moment. His, slightly flustered, embarrassment washes through you, and you open your eyes to peer at him.

He looks slightly sheepish, “I’d like to get to know you before I take you to bed. Doesn’t mean that I don’t want you, though.”

Slowly you nod your understanding, and then you close your eyes again. Echo makes you feel warm and safe, and you could drown yourself in him if he let you.

His fingers are warm against your jaw, “Can I kiss you, cyare?” Echo murmurs, “I think it’s a good first step.”

You nod once and tilt your head slightly. He leans in and brushes his lips against yours in an innocent kiss, and then he kisses you properly, his hand settling firmly on the back of your neck while his other arm wraps securely around your waist.

Echo breaks the kiss and releases a contented sigh, “I’m going to take care of you, cyare.” He murmurs against your lips, “Everything is going to be alright. I promise.”

And, for the first time since childhood, you believe it.

[galebrainrot2024]

Gale x Tav Enemies to Lovers Part IX/9

GAS!! Anyway, Part 9 Enemies to Lovers Gale POV

The memory of Tav falling replayed endlessly in his mind. Gale was unable to shake it - granted, it had only been a few days and even so it haunted him. Why did his brain insist on exhuming things he could not change?  He was overcome with guilt that he should have done more, could have done more. That he should have insisted in a back up plan or come up with one himself. How reckless it was, how he let his pride get in the way of sense. He thought of how he tended to her before she came to, only succumbing to sleep once his weary eyes could no longer be forced open out of sheer will. 

What a fool he was. 

Gale was reenacting the first moments when they arrived in the Underdark, seething over how blind he had been. He would never be anything more than a rival to Tav, an insufferable ego-manic, and Gale saw that clearly. Astarion wasn’t exactly being subtle. Yet Gale was unconvinced, his gut nagging him. Why had she looked to me though? Why would she bother to look for my reaction at all? 

He felt ashamed, embarrassed even for feeling the fingers of envy. He had no right to. And besides, Tav had yet to apologize. Gale still wanted an apology from her and thus, he squirreled himself away until it was time to move from their last camp. While they traveled, Wyll was busy talking Tav’s ear off so Gale was able to happily mosey behind, unworried about confrontation. Besides, talking to her with the rest of the companions present wouldn’t end well for anyone. The last thing this group needed was more drama. Between him and Tav, Lae’zel and Shadowheart, Astarion and, well, everyone else, he didn’t need to add fuel to the fire. 

Gale was preparing dinner, mid peel, when he heard her footsteps approaching him from behind. “Whatever it is you have to say to me can wait,” he said, his eyes not leaving the potato. “I’m not really interested in talking to you at the moment.” The air was cooler down there, like a crisp Autumnal air. 

He heard Tav’s footsteps stop. It made his chest tighten. Despite telling her he was not interested in talking with her, in fact not talking to her at all was driving him mad. Tav was all he could think about no matter how annoyed he was with her. 

“Fine. Goodnight.” He heard her say, her tone icy. 

He bit his tongue, still frozen in position and the silence piqued his curiosity. He didn’t hear her walk away. “You’re still here.” 

“I am.” 

“Hm. Curious, if you ask me, since you said ‘goodnight.’ If you’ve come here to grill me, I am not interested, and if you’re in need of grilling something might I suggest you start working on the fish.” He heard a soft laugh that sounded like she tried to catch it before it made a sound. His lips pulled up into a smile. Still, there was no sound of footsteps. “Have you come here to just lurk? Taking our trip to the Underdark a bit literally.” Another soft puff of air. His smile grew and he resumed peeling the potato. 

The foreign sounds of creatures cloaked the air, a sense of calm settling between the two of them. Gale continued to slowly and methodically peel the potatoes, inspecting each as he placed them in the pot, making commentary as he went. “Oh wow, I’ve never seen one with quite so many eyes!” and “You’re much mushier than I like, but it’ll be our secret.” And then, “My, you’re the smallest potato I’ve seen. I almost feel guilty cooking you. In you go, then.” 

“Are you still here?” Gale asked, although he knew the answer. The moment felt strangely comforting, more so even than the Weave. 

“I am.” 

“Have you got anything to say for yourself or shall I continue?” 

A grunt. More silence. And then finally a resigned and sincere, “Gale, I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness or grace, and I -“ he heard her swallow hard and pause. Her voice, though honest, was also tight as if she was unpracticed in the art of apology. 

“Difficult for you to apologize, is it?” 

He heard her sigh in annoyance, “I already apologized -“

“Ah,” Gale held up a finger but still did not turn around. “You apologized for saying a cruel thing, an apology does not equal forgiveness. I should know that better than anyone.” He sighed, grunting as he rose to his knees and finally turned to face her. Gale inhaled heavily when he looked at her, startled by how her skin glowed in the purple, unending night. “And then you proceeded to ignore me for close to a month. Without so much as an explanation. Hits a little too close to home for my taste. So, while you may have apologized for the first offense, you certainly did not for the second.” 

Gale’s eyes trailed from Tav’s eyes to her lips, to the way her body curved and then back to hers. Their breathing seemed to synch as they held their gaze. He watched Tav’s lips part before she looked away and pulled her hair back nervously. “It was childish, I know. I’m sorry, Gale. I really am. I just…” She closed her eyes and inhaled. “I shouldn’t have reacted that way, it wasn’t fair of me.” Tav turned her eyes to his again and Gale felt heat prick at his ears. Silence filled them until she cut it, “I also wanted to thank you for saving my life.” 

Gale paused, shaken. She couldn’t remember, could she? “Karlach saved your life.” He said, turning away to put the potatoes over the fire. “But, Thank you for your apology. Now, if you’ll excuse me - ” 

“That’s it?” Tav said, grabbing his arm. He felt a jolt shoot through him and cleared his throat, averting her gaze. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” 

Gale knew he would lose his resolve if he turned to look at her. He knew the next words were rile her up and still they came tumbling out, “What are you talking about?” 

She dropped his arm, her expression dark. “Unbelievable.” 

Gale sighed and caught her wrist as she went to turn. “You’re right - I’m sorry - I’m just feeling a little stung at the moment.” He saw Tav’s brow furrow and then her face floods with color. 

“That was nothing.” 

“It certainly didn’t look like nothing.” 

Tav glared at him. “What about you and Karlach?” 

Gale was unable to stop the instant laugh that bubbled out of him, “Karlach? Tav, surely you know her better than that -“ he paused and looked at her with a furrowed brow, “Don’t you? You know she likes-“

“SH!” Tav said, pressing her fingers against Gale’s lips. As soon as she did this Gale felt himself stop breathing. The feeling of her hand on hips lips ignited him, the spark licking through his blood like wildfire. He felt a rush of blood to his nether-region and tried to ignore the feeling. 

He took a deep breath and wrapped one of his hands around her wrist to bring her fingers away from his lips. He leaned down a bit towards her, his voice soft. “Ah, your point is moot. I may have locked myself away for a year, but I wasn’t born yesterday, I’m afriad. I’d rather you be honest with me instead of pretending as if you and he aren’t intimately spending time in one another’s company.” 

“Why would that be your business?” Tav asked and Gale’s eyes flicked down to see her lick her lips. He swallowed hard. 

“OOOO I knew I felt the fire cooking,” Karlach said and they both stepped back from each other quickly. Gale rubbed the back of his neck and looked around. She held up her hands and laughed, “Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt, but this meal won’t cook itself and I’m bloody tired. Please man, I’m famished.” Karlach rested on the ground by them, as if she meant to supervise Gale so he would stay true to his word. 

“Fair enough,” Gale chuckled and looked to Tav only to catch a soft, unreadable expression before returning to work.