#i f***ink loved coach!!

[deluweil]

When I come across old Teen Wolf clips of Coach and this quote describes my feelings regarding S7 and S8 of 911 perfectly 😂

"This is a rebuilding season people!"

[nachojaehyun]

first fuck

pairing. office co-worker! mingyu + fem! reader

summary. fucking on the first date may not be acceptable for many, but when your date was that hot and signing the cheque at the end of the night, who were you to refuse having him in your bed?

playlist. first fuck by 6LACK and Jhene Aiko

warnings. [PLEASE READ] oral (f), lowkey pussydrunk mingoo, fingering, scissoring, kissing, clit play, mingyu is pussy whipped, slight gagging, gentleman mingyu, asking for consent <3 use of nicknames (love, mostly) — 18+ MINORS DNI!

note. i got 8 asks about mingyu, so here it is. also thank you guys so much for your support on the wonwoo fic! more soon <3

“we’ll have the cheque please,” his deep voice said, making you shuffle your thighs closer.

as he signed the paper with his expensively heavy pen, he shot you a smile, carding his fingers through his hair.

“come, i’ll drop you off at your place.”

his car reeked of a musky wood, deliciously enticing just like him.

kim mingyu, as he told you he was called, was making your head spin.

conversations with him were easy, flowing simply between tongues, even though you wished his tongue was in your mouth—

the drive back home had your heart jumping. his white dress shirt was tucked into black slacks. taut muscles peeking under the folded sleeves, a shiny gold watch nearly blinding you.

everything about kim mingyu was luxurious.

you would be lying if you said it wasn’t making you drool. “oh, it’s this gate!” you squeaked, clearing your throat after.

unbeknownst to you, mingyu smiled at your nervousness, swerving the car to enter the gated community.

your apartment was quite easy to spot. as he stopped the vehicle in front of the building, you felt your heart about to leap out of your chest as he parked on the side and ran out to hold your door for you.

“mingyu-ssi,” you spoke up after thanking him. he was leaning against his car, hands stuffed in his pockets as he intently listened to you. “yes, love?”

red creeped up your cheeks.

“would you uh…” your fingers fiddled with the strap of your Coach purse. “would you like to come inside?”

“i thought you’d never ask.”

inside your humble home, you opted to brewing some coffee for you and your date. mingyu waltzed back and forth, analysing every detail of your apartment.

the cutesy decorations, the books laying around the house, the towels and clothes hanging to dry in the balcony— mingyu felt like he was learning every detail about you.

and it felt so right.

when his co-worker had asked him if he was interested in going on a date, mingyu had initially wanted to refuse. he had no luck with women for his entire life, despite being raised by a hardworking mother and two sisters.

however, when your name was mentioned, he couldn’t help but immediately agree to the meet up.

you were his favorite thing to watch in the office when he was bored. his favorite workplace muse. his favorite person to look at when he was stressed. his favorite picture to eye as his hands gripped around his c—

“mingyu-ssi?” your pretty voice beckoned. “yes, love?” his attention returned to you. “the c-coffee…”

the nickname rolled off his tongue like he was born to call you that. god, you were so pretty.

“ah,” he hurried over to the kitchen counter, smiling.

the dark roast made his lips tingle as he gulped it down. the coffee tasted amazing. he listened to you talking as his thumb traced the raised pattern on his mug.

“and then he said ‘it’s your fault for not buying more ink for the printer.’ can you believe him?”

your chuckle made his lips curl up. “he’s an idiot.”

“yeah,” you trailed off, resting your empty cup on the counter as you stared at the ground, fiddling with the ends of your red dress.

when mingyu called out your name, your breath hitched in your throat.

his mug was long forgotten on the marble countertop, as kim mingyu inched closer to your body. his knee touched yours, and it sent little sparks of electricity up your spine.

“can i… can i kiss you?”

you nodded slowly, watching his mouth split into a smile. within moments, you felt his lips on yours, softly engulfing your mouth.

his lips were pillowy as you grabbed onto his collar, pulling him impossibly close. with one soft bite onto your bottom lip, you gasped. your open mouth invited his tongue as he licked the inside of your mouth, groaning when your fingers bunched up his shirt.

he pulled away after a second, panting through his mouth as a string of salvia connected your mouths. “fuck,” you whimpered, glassy orbs melting into his dazed ones.

“bedroom?” mingyu smirked, grabbing your waist as he pulled you up from your seat. “straight down the hall, second door to your left.”

your knees were shaky as you stood up. chuckling at your state, mingyu pulled you close, tapping your ass as a signal. accepting the offer, you jumped into his arms.

your hands were slung around his neck as he carried you to the bedroom. however, your mouth was relentless, placing small kisses all over his neck as you unbuttoned his crisp shirt.

his scent was making you dizzy as you inhaled, licking up the sweat that gathered on his skin.

“shi- feisty aren’t ya?”

you were laid down on the comfort of your bed, back hitting the soft mattress as he laid you down.

kim mingyu stood between your legs, towering over your figure in his casual outfit. he looked absolutely delicious.

you made grabby hands at him, pouting at the distance that had manifested. with a chuckle, mingyu all but pounced on you.

his lips found purchase on your skin, teething it like a madman. your fingers clutched onto his strands, whimpering softly when he licked over the material of your dress.

“as much as i love this on you,” he started, licking his lips. “i think i would love it on the floor even more.”

you could only stupidly grin as you yanked the material over your head. the simple black underwear you wore had mingyu going feral.

how could someone be this fucking beautiful?

while he was analyzing your body like it was a work of art, you tugged at his shirt, giggling. “you want this off baby?” he smiled. when you nodded, he nearly ripped the expensive fabric in two, before leaning down and hovering over your body.

his lips trailed your stomach, leaving a trail of spit in their wake. when he reached the hem of your panties, he looked up at you.

despite the fire burning in his irises, he smiles at you. “may i?”

with a shy nod, you allow him to continue. he mentally thanked you. mingyu thinks he would have jumped from the balcony in your room if you would have denied.

you lift your legs as he pulled your underwear down, groaning into your thighs when he caught a glimpse of your pussy.

“perfect, so fucking perfect.”

he discards the ruined cloth on the floor, grabbing your thighs as he parted them. face to face with your cunt, mingyu feels his consciousness falling into the chasms of insanity.

he places a kiss on your inner thigh, before leaning his head on your skin. his hair tickles you as one of his hands come up from under your thighs.

“wow,” he gasps to himself, tracing your wet folds with his fingers. the contact has you moaning out loud, too desperate to feel any friction.

the pads of his fingers glide over your cunt, messily collecting the moisture. you think mingyu purposefully ignores your clit.

but the man was transfixed by your pussy, eyes drowning in wonder as he picked up his pace. “this is okay right?” he questioned, looking up.

he sees your face contorted in pleasure as you nod. “more than okay, minyu-ssi!”

“hmm?” he teases, slowly using his middle and ring finger to push inside your walls. “how about this?”

“f— hah! mingyu-!”

“answer me,” he demands.

“yes! so good!”

using his fingers, mingyu scissored your walls open, mesmerized by the squelching noises that came from within. your arousal dripped out of your hole in copious drops, and mingyu couldn’t help but lean forward, catching it on his tongue.

“fuck…” you groaned, clutching your new bedsheets.

“love… you taste so good,” his eyes roll back. mingyu wraps his mouth around your clit, sucking the bud into his mouth as his fingers fastened inside you.

your gummy walls squeezed his nimble digits for all their worth as his tongue laved over your puffy clit.

spit and arousal formed a puddle underneath you, as mingyu pushed his face further into your pussy.

his fingers had reached a heavenly pace, toying with your folds and curling into that one spot that had your toes quivering.

“you close, hmm? can tell by the way you’re shaking,” mingyu chuckled. his laugh sent vibrations all the way up to your lower back, making you shiver in pleasure.

“alright then love, cum on my tongue. make a mess with this cute pussy of yours.”

“s— shit!”

with a loud moan of his name, the knot in your stomach came undone. your orgasm crashed on mingyu’s tongue as the man between your legs slurped up every drop you gave him.

the aftershocks of that intense pleasure had you feeling incoherent, mind numb as you looked at him with blurry eyes.

tears coated your lashes. no one had ever made you cum so quickly. hell, no one had ever made you cum like that.

“no no, stay with me baby,” mingyu tutted as he got up from his knees, unbuckling his slacks at your already fucked out expression.

“i have so much to do you, we’re just getting started hmm?” he smiled, pushing his boxers down.

you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes. “i think… i love you,” you giggled out, biting your lower lip.

“yeah?” mingyu’s thumb grazed your chin, before slowly slipping past your lips as he forced himself into your mouth.

his thumb pressed down on the back of your tongue, making you choke loudly as you batted your lashes at him.

“i think you’ll love me more after this first fuck.”

© nachojaehyun, 2024

[wxshing-aep]

The Prom Committee (pt 1)

Ethan Morales x fem!reader

based on this request:

"how about one where y/n runs an after school club so Ethan keeps getting detention on purpose to see her because he thinks “clubs are for dorks” to quote Paxton and so his reputation as the bad boy isn’t ruined"

Warnings: swearing, banter, the word boobs

AN: decided to make it a 2 parter cause it was getting long while I was writing it and wanted to give Ethan more depth of character than the actually show so part 2 coming tmrw probs!

When his assignment was handed back by Señora Diaz upside down, Ethan wasn't surprised by the big F glaring back at him in red ink when he turned the page over.

“Stupid bitch” he muttered under his breath.

“In Español, Ethan” Señora Diaz paused on her way back to the blackboard, unsure of what he said but certain that it wasn't in Spanish.

“Sorry" he retorted and she continued her route back to the front of the classroom.

"perra estúpida”

“ethan!”

That’s how Ethan ended up in detention for the umpteenth time in his academic career, tapping his pen on the desk in the nearly empty classroom with Mr. Shapiro's happy go-lucky self staring back at him.

"Well, happy to have you here Ethan!" Mr. Shapiro greets picking up a clipboard from his desk. "Not happy to be here" Ethan deadpanned. "Sorry to hear that. Not sure how you managed to get detention during the first week of school, but hey I think that might be a new Sherman Oaks record! Congrats buddy!" Mr. Shapiro cheers before realizing the younger boy is not the slightest bit amused. "Alright, tough crowd."

"Moving right along then," Mr. Shapiro clicks a pen in his hand "time to take roll!" which causes Ethan to look around the empty classroom.

"...I'm literally the only one here"

"I know, I just love checking things off lists," Mr. Shapiro clears his throats " so do I have a Morales comma Ethan?"

"seriously dude?"

"Second call for Ethan Morales"

"you're gonna keep going til I say here, aren't you?"

"You betcha!"

"Here."

"Awesome!" Mr. Shapiro marks a giant check by the one name on his attendance sheet. "god I love doing that- Alright so unfortunately I've gotta skidaddle to help out with the faculty potluck but lucky for you sir we're implementing more of a reformative detention style this year!"

"What the hell does that mean" Ethan asked.

"It means, that instead of sitting here for the next few hours, you my friend, get to offer your help to one of the after school clubs or committees that are a bit low on helping hands" Shapiro responds with finger guns. "so guess who's today's newest member of the prom committee!"

"yea, no. I'm not joining some stupid after school club. clubs are for dorks, losers, and ugly people" Ethan responds grabbing his backpack out of the chair next to him to get up and leave.

"well actually it's a committee"

"even worse"

"Alrighty well I can see what the other options-" is all Mr Shapiro gets out before he is interrupted by your voice from the doorway.

"Oh- hey! Mr. Shapiro, did you find anyone to help with the prom posters? Eric said he'd help me out but then canceled cause he said he had to train with the assistant swim coach to quote make Michael Phelps my bitch end quote. Whatever that means, so I'm kinda flying solo here" You say, drawing Ethan's attention towards you as well.

hot damn. okay maybe after school activities are not only for ugly people. He thinks you might be the prettiest girl he's ever seen and definitely takes a mental note of your outfit that's hugging you in all the right places. He quickly realizes that he doesn't know your name and has no idea how he's never been informed of your existence prior to this moment. He's snapped back to reality by Mr. Shapiro responding to your question. "Ah- I'm sorry but Ethan is-"

"super excited to help decorate for prom" Ethan finds himself blurting out before Mr. Shapiro could finish his sentence.

"Oh- well that's great! Uh Ethan just report back by 6 so I can log your hours! I'm gonna get going, you kids have fun decorating. Go crickets!" Mr. Shapiro says, making his exit as you watch him almost skip down the hall.

"Sup, I'm Ethan" Your attention is brought back to the brown eyed curly haired boy who's suddenly standing in front of you (how the hell did he cross the room that fast, you wonder) with an outstretched hand. He never really shakes hands, he just wanted an excuse to touch you. He's cute, you note mentally. You accept the offer and shake his hand. "and you are?" he continues.

"I'm-" you pause noticing those not so innocent brown eyes are directed elsewhere, "acutely aware of the fact that you're staring at my boobs".

Ethan thinks his brain might've just short circuited cause he was definitely just caught red handed. He'd recently grown a lot more confident with girls since his summer growth spurt and subsequent glow up had dramatically increased the number of girls interested in him, but there was something about you and how you so deliberately called him out that had definitely thrown him off his game.

"Sorry- I uh- I was actually looking at your shirt. They're- It's nice" he wants to die he thinks.

You chuckle at his sudden change in demeanor. "Hmm. Yea, I know they are" you respond, turning on a heel and heading toward the auditorium.

"You comin or what?"

-

For one person, you had made pretty okay progress in a week. The current task at hand was making posters to get people excited for the theme reveal. The ground was littered with several half finished or barely started posters.

"Can you draw?" You asked Ethan.

"I'm not much of an artist"

"Really? the graffiti on the side of the school says otherwise. Your handwriting definitely sucks though so I'll do that, but the art's good and if you can do it with a spray can, you can definitely do it with some paint and markers" your unsolicited review of his graffiti made him crack a smile. His latest act of defiance had been a giant snake comically eating a cricket accompanied with the words "get fucked" on the side of the school building.

"You can't prove that was me" he challenges.

"Maybe not, but Mr. Shapiro had mentioned that I might have a detention helper today thanks to Señora Diaz and I happened to notice the words 'stupid bitch' spray painted on her car containing the same weird ass t's as the graffiti on the side of the school and here you are, Ethan."

"Damn, you're good" he pauses realizing he can't throw your name back at you because he still doesn't know it.

"Y/n" you say quietly.

"Huh?"

"My name's y/n"

Pretty name for a pretty girl, he thought.

"Alright y/n. I'll draw as long as I don't have to to touch any glitter. that shit's impossible to get off"

"deal"

"and I don't write my t's weird"

"you write your t's like a crazy person"

-

Time was pretty much flying by. Together you'd gotten nearly twenty posters done and were slowly finding out more information about each other. You were informed about some of Ethan's tattoos and how he'd actually drawn the designs for all of them himself. Not an artist, my ass, you thought. Ethan learned that he hadn't met you before because you'd previously been homeschooled and had all but begged your parents to be able to go to school with other kids for your senior year until they finally cracked and agreed to enroll you at Sherman Oaks.

"Ah I see, you're a total secret weirdo. That explains your freaky detective skills" he teases.

"I am not a secret weirdo. I just like criminal minds and puzzles"

"You were homeschooled. All homeschooled kids are a little weird"

"That's an unfair stereotype"

"Whatever you say, y/n"

"If anything you're the secret weirdo. or at least an undercover art nerd"

"I'm not an undercover art nerd"

"Yea you are. Something tells me this whole" you gestured largely to him sitting a couple feet away from you, "tortured angsty hot skater boy thing you've got going on is a pretty recent development" you comment absent-mindedly. You looked back up from your poster when he didn't respond to see him sitting there, arms crossed with a smug grin on his face.

"What?" you prodded.

"You totally just called me hot"

You're now very aware that he's a bit closer to you than he was before.

"mm don't think so"

"oh you definitely did"

"did not"

"did too"

"did not" that one came out much less confidently considering his hand had made its way to your face to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. damn, he's good.

"whatever you say, y/n" he almost whispers. have his eyes been that sparkly this whole time? He's leaning in and you're definitely not backing away. You're maybe a centimeter away from his lips until the alarm blaring from your phone, which seemed like much better idea hours ago, sent you flying back from him and scared the shit out of both you.

"shit- I- god that scared me, I uh set an alarm for 6 so you'd remember to check in with Mr. Shapiro cause, ya know, I thought we'd both probably be busy. Um- busy making posters, i mean. Obviously I mean making posters cause we definitely wouldn't be busy doing anything else so-" you ramble.

The smug little smirk has made its way back onto Ethan's face as he is quite enjoying this role reversal from your first interaction of the day.

"shut up" you say to him.

"I didn't even say anything" he responded, hands in the air in surrender.

"I've gotta head home, but thanks for helping out even though you basically had to be here. If you ever find yourself in detention again this semester, feel free to help out. Hopefully the committee is more than just me by then" you say, starting to gather your belongings. Ethan secretly hopes it isn't, he likes the idea of hanging out with just you.

"I probably will find myself in detention again. It's kinda part of this whole tortured angsty hot skater boy thing I've got going on" he says throwing his backpack over his shoulder.

"not what I said" you still attempt to deny.

"sure it wasn't"

"bye ethan"

"bye y/n"

Yea, he'll definitely be finding himself in detention again.

-

Read Part 2 here

[wordsofelie]

🏠one goodbye, a million hellos

A Phoenix and Ashes & Don’t you dare run away short story (can be read as a standalone)

Suna x f!reader

Summary: Suna is invited to the wedding of his ex. he goes there with a broken heart and leaves with a loving one.

Content warnings: alcohol consumption, non-explicit bed scene, swearings, timeskip, manga spoilers

Words count: 3.5k

Suna knew from the moment he woke up that morning, that today was going to be shitty day. First, his alarm didn’t go off—luckily, his lazy cat decided to scratch at the door, waking him up. Bleary-eyed, he noted that the noise outside was way too loud for it to be 6 a.m. That’s when he checked the time. It was 8 a.m.

He launched out of bed and stumbled as his ankle twisted slightly. He barely registered the discomfort because he simply had no time to waste. Then he checked the weather on his phone: a sunny day ahead, or so he thought. However, all he had to do was cross the threshold to realise that he’d checked the forecast for Hiroshima, not Tokyo, and that it was pouring rain in the bigger city.

The way to the gym didn’t help ease his mood. He had to wait for two overcrowded trains to pass before he could squeeze onto the third, only to watch in horror as his wallet tumbled out of his bag and skidded across the station floor. Two teenagers shot him a pitying look and smirked.

His coach made him run ten extra laps of the court as a punishment.

Anyway, it was shaping up to be the shittiest day.

Only two things can possibly redeem it now, Suna hopes: the company of his chubby, grey cat and the arrival of his long-awaited new volleyball shoes.

When he finally reaches his apartment building, he rushes to the mailbox.

Fuck, the shoes aren’t there.

He sighs heavily and sorts through the stack of mostly junk mail. There’s an ad for the new yakiniku restaurant that opened in his neighbourhood, a fan’s letter (how did they find his address?) and then, at the bottom of the mailbox, a delicate, white envelope with his name inked in familiar handwriting. Suddenly, his chest tightens. Suna feels his lungs closing, as if they can no longer inhale the breath from outside. Because, even if he wishes he could unrecall the way his ex-girlfriend used to write his name, he can’t; and the letter is from her. He doesn’t need to open the letter to know what it is. She wouldn’t use such elegant paper for him—not anymore. So, he knows, even before reading a single word, that it is an invitation to her wedding.

Her wedding to Miya Osamu.

But just in case his hunch was wrong, in case she dumped his former teammate and wants Suna back in her life, he decides to unfold the paper, carefully.

Honda Airi & Miya Osamu are pleased to invite you...

That’s enough for today.

He shoves the letter into his bag, in a harsh move. Yet somehow, he can’t bring himself to crumple or shred it to pieces for it is certainly very precious to Airi.

When he enters his apartment, he mumbles a shy “tadaima”, it’s unusual for him. He never much cared for the ritual of announcing his return, but his mother used to insist on it, so he only does it with her and his younger sister when he visits them. And Airi once complained when he didn’t. He never knew why it mattered so much to her.

“It’s just… I love having someone to say ‘okaeri’ to,” she said.

Only now does Suna understand the warmth of having someone to greet when coming home, or rather, Suna understands the coldness of having no one to go home to. Not even Peko-chan, his cat, bothers to look up at him, it doesn’t seem like that ungrateful bastard is going to come and ask for cuddles anytime soon.

He finds a single lollipop on the kitchen counter and unwraps it, it’s sweet but somehow tonight, it tastes bitter.

The letter stays in his bag for weeks. Airi tries to call him a few times, leaving messages of “hey, I was wondering if you had received a letter?”, and “tell me when you have received the invitation… I’d like to talk with you about it.” Which turned into “everyone received theirs so I don’t know if you moved out or if you’re ignoring me… anyway, please call me back.”

She sounds so worried; it makes him feel bad and so, he calls her back.

Airi seems to be thrilled when she talks about the wedding plans. There’s this spark in her voice that reminds him of everything he once loved about her. For a brief moment, he almost forgets it is supposed to hurt.

She begs him to come because “you’ve always meant a lot to me, and… I still think of you as a close friend. And Osamu’s entire team from high school is coming. It wouldn’t feel right without you there. But I understand if it makes you feel uncomfortable-”

“I’ll come.” He simply replies. Suna has always been a man of few words. He believes he hears a sigh of relief in her voice.

She thanks him one, twice, thrice, Suna pretends it is a pleasure. Which it is (because he made her happy) but also isn’t (because all the regrets he pushed aside for years suddenly resurface).

That evening, he reads the whole invitation. It is so quintessentially her—simple and graceful, the venue will be in the mountains, of course she loves the mountains. The wedding will be held in summer, near her birthday. Every detail seems to fit her perfectly, even the name next to hers, and despite the hurt and regrets, Suna Rintarou has to admit that Miya Osamu is a way better choice than himself for her; he had always been.

The day comes and Suna feels his stomach hurt when he arrives at the venue. It’s a small gathering, which only makes him more visible when he parks. He glances at the people that are already there, and takes a deep inspiration—yet, even in the calm, he can feel his pulse race. A few seconds after, he hears Atsumu tapping on his window.

“Sunarin, my man!” Atsumu’s grin is wide as ever, and Suna’s response is his usual faint smile.

Atsumu explains everything to him from what’s planned for dinner to where the restrooms are but soon after that, excuses himself to go see his brother who’s almost done getting ready.

To stay close to people who are calm and won’t ask too many questions, Suna makes his way to his senpai, Aran and Kita, and nods through conversations, pretending to be his normal self, quiet and unbothered.

Suna doesn’t remember a lot about what happened after, maybe because he was to focus on trying to make the pain in his chest go away.

But when Airi arrives, he finds her beautiful, but he also admits to himself that his heart doesn’t beat the way it used to. The man realises that it is not her that haunts him, but the regrets and the “what could have been?”. It’s the longing to have someone by his side to cherish. It’s the fact that the only true love story he had experienced ended in tears—because of him—and when he tried to fix the broken glasses, it was too late.

This goodbye will forever hurt.

By the reception, Suna attempts to control his drinking—partly because he is a professional athlete, but mostly because he fears he might say something stupid to Airi, “Could it have been us?”, he nearly asks when he bumps into her at the buffet. But instead, “I’m happy for you,” comes out.

“Thank you, Rin. It means a lot coming from you.” the hurt eases even slightly.

Still the alcohol starts blurring his mind a little bit and he turns, only to find himself spilling his drink on someone.

“Shit,” that someone says.

“Oh-sorry!” he mutters, reaching for a napkin to help.

She says nothing back, and doesn’t even look at him at first, not out of annoyance, Suna concludes, but because her attention is glued to her camera, which took the brunt of the spill (and that thing seems the hell expensive).

After a minute or so, she sighs heavily and mumbles a “thanks gods, it’s still working.” As she raises the camera, she snaps one picture of Suna.

The man raises an eyebrow, genuinely taken aback.

“I need to remember the man who almost made me lose my job.”

She grins. And Suna can finally see her whole face. She’s more radiant than a thousand suns.

“Your job?”

“Yep. Honda-san, I mean, Miya-san now, hired me to be the photograph for tonight. My shop is close to her workplace.” She says, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she extends her hand to introduce herself.

“Mmh, nice to meet you. I’m Suna.”

He’s cold. Suna knows he is, but it’s not like he can do anything about it, that’s just who he has always been. Somehow, she doesn’t seem impressed or upset by it. She simply scratches her chin and frowns.

“Are you here for the bride or the groom… Wait, let me guess. You’re pretty tall and handsome. Volleyball player, right? So, the groom’s side, I’d say.”

Suna doesn’t know how to respond to that because after all, he’s here for both.

“Actually…” He hesitates. “I was in high school with them.”

“Oh, I’m sure you were the mysterious type and cool guy all the girls had a crush on?”

Suna laughs, a short huff through his nose. “I don’t know. Were you the stalking girl who took pictures of her crush?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Did you take many pictures of me tonight?” He wheedles and crosses his arms.

“Who said I had a crush on you?”

That girl is probably smarter than he would ever be, Suna concludes and just when he’s thinking about what he can argue back, she chimes in.

“But, if you want to know, you’ll have to stop by my shop sometime.”

He’s surprised when his heart skips a beat and finds himself wanting to know more about her. They chat naturally for the next half an hour, like old friends or something close to it. She mentions Momo, her cat, a clingy, high-maintenance furball that couldn’t be more different from his laid-back pet. He shows her a photo of said pet, and she laughs about how nonchalant he looks (“like his owner” she adds). She still thinks the felines would look good together. Suna wonders if they would.

“Well, I just forgot I’m supposed to be working and I saw that dude who looks like an owl doing a backflip on the dancefloor. I think Miya-san wouldn’t want me to miss this.” She leans just an inch so that Suna is close enough now to inhale a fragment of her scent. “Guess I’ll see you around… Mister Cool Guy.”

Before he can say anything, she slips back into the crowd. Suna thinks he catches a slight blush on her ears, he smiles, and it makes his cheeks hurt.

Two weeks after, Airi calls him.

“Rin, I hate to ask, but I’m in Osaka right now, and the wedding photos are ready. Could you pick them up?”

Suna wonders if she has some sixth sense or if fate is intervening, but either way, he decides to take the chance.

When he arrives at the shop, she’s there, and the man swears he caught her smile widen when she saw him. She’s helping a young girl with some identity photos, telling her jokes, and making funny faces to get a smile from the child. The way she acts with her makes him think that she has that ability of making everyone feel at ease.

“Here for the photos?” she asks and hands him the envelope.

He takes it, but something holds him back from leaving just yet. He’s here to do his ex a favour, but as he heads toward the door, he finds himself turning around.

“What are you doing after this?”

“Nothing,” she answers, almost too quickly.

The middle blocker holds back a teethfull smile, “There’s a new yakiniku place nearby. I’ve been wanting to try it.”

“I close in twenty minutes.” She informs.

“I’ll wait,” he replies, and finally lets a rare smile break through.

The dinner’s great, they talk about everything and nothing at all. He grills the meat, she eats it while telling him about her degrees and her previous experiences working in a rigid company, why she hated it and how her boss was a butthead. Suna notes that her eyes shine when she explains how she finally followed her dreams and became a professional photographer. She asks him about his dream, impressed when she searches for his name on the internet and sees the number of followers on his public profile.

By the time they’re walking back, neither is in a rush to leave the other. Their feet drag slightly, as if it would help delay the moment they part ways.

“Next time, I’ll try the karubi,” she exclaims, nudging him.

“Next time?”

“What? Aren’t you going to take me on another date, Suna Rintarou?” She smirks, bright and clear.

Everything inside him moves and his heart aches. But this time, the feeling soothes him.

And so, he agrees to go out with her again. The dates become regular and slowly, as the days pass, fingers intertwine, soft kisses land at the corner of lips, and “i like you” are whispered under the moon.

With her, it’s never awkward, never forced. And Suna thinks that maybe he isn’t cursed to be loveless after all.

A few months later, when her apartment lease ends, they move in together. Suna, with his ever-pragmatic mind, decides they know each other well enough to make it work. She’s clumsy, messy, and can sleep till noon—he often returns from his morning run to find her still in bed, though now she tries to get up and wait for him with two steaming cups of tea. She has a tendency to comment on absurd reality shows about people fighting in a villa, and while he doesn’t admit it aloud, Suna finds an odd comfort in her quirks.

At first, her cooking is questionable, bad even, but he finds her watching YouTube tutorials on “How To Meal Prep for Athletes.” Soon, her omurice (that was a bit too burnt in the beginning), packed with olive oil for good fats, protein-rich chicken and eggs, rice for carbs, and fiber-loaded courgettes and red peppers, becomes something he actually looks forward to. Her repertoire of healthy recipes grows, and they fall into a rhythm that makes Suna feels nothing less than at home: he handles the cleaning, and she deftly manages bills and taxes.

On the weekends, they play video games and go on hikes—though never too long ones, because she stops constantly to capture everything. “You already took a picture of that flower,” he points out, and with her innocent smile, she replies, “But the light’s different now.”

She respects his boundaries, never pressures him to do things he dislikes, and doesn’t complain when his responses are short and of few words. She doesn’t make him feel bad when his training runs late. No matter what hour he comes home, she’s waiting—half asleep on the couch, two cats curled in her lap, an almost-empty packet of low-salt and 0% fat crisps by her side. He kneels before her, murmuring “tadaima,” and her eyes squint and then shine as she responds, “okaeri, my love.”

She never misses his games, always making sure to snap the best shots of him. Sometimes, she even sneaks alongside the official photographers, scolding them for not taking enough pictures of Suna.

“What a bunch of idiots…Can’t you see he’s the ace of the game?” (it got her to be kick out of the gym once).

She learns all the rules from volleyball even though she still gets confused with the rotations. One day, from where he stands on the court, Suna hears her protest when the referee whistles for a foul he made (even though it was obvious he touched the net with his chest).

In return, Suna never fails to attend her exhibitions. He strokes her hair and kisses her cheeks when she cries because “no one came” and “I’m a failure.”

He lists every reason why she’s mistaken and how she’s the most talented person in this entire universe. It makes her cry even more, but with happy tears this time. He keeps on believing that her art will be celebrated worldwide someday, but that he’ll remain the first to stand in line when queues of fans will show up to see her masterpieces.

After a hard day, he runs her a bath, (always putting a little bath bomb that smells like roses, her favourite). When he’s away for matches, he brings back mugs from every country. The shelves are now overflowing, and they had to buy a new cabinet, but she still asks him for more.

He discovers what makes her feel good, the spots on her skin that sends shivers down her spine (her upper thigh, the back of her shoulders). He learns what words make her lose her mind, what pace she enjoys most.

When he messes up, she’s never afraid to call him out. “You’re a piece of shit,” she shouts sometimes when she’s pissed at him, and they burst into laughter because they can never be mad at each other for more than fifteen minutes.

During the Paris Olympics, they explore the city for what she calls their “honeymoon” (they’re not married, not even engaged, though Suna wouldn’t mind giving her his last name, or taking hers). She photographs every single croissant they try, and even makes him pose like he’s holding up the Eiffel Tower, much to his dismay. The man grunts but does it anyway (it’s a total fail).

She jumps in his arms when Japan wins against Argentina. He almost stumbles, but happiness overwhelms him at the same time.

He meets Airi’s gaze, who came with Osamu and his parents to cheer for Atsumu. She beams at him, and he smiles back.

(After all, going to that wedding wasn’t quite a bad idea.)

And just like that, a year transforms into two and into three. His career is stable while hers flourishes.

When he turns 30, she shows him a video montage that leaves him flustered. He laughs at her for getting teary-eyed even though she’s the one who made it.

“Where did you get all these pictures of me as a kid?” he grumbles, embarrassed.

“From your mum, of course! She was happy to help.”

“To help humiliate me?” he asks, and she tries to shut him up with a quick, “I love you.” He rolls his eyes but smiles anyway.

For her birthday, he gifts her the camera she’s been dreaming of her entire life. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Please, keep taking pictures. I love them... and I love you,” he tells. She answers she could die happy.

Her first picture with the new device is, shamelessly, Suna’s “beautiful and too-hot-for-public-decency back muscles.”

“Are you taking nudes of me, darling?” He raises an eyebrow when he catches her in the act.

“But this is my favourite scenery.” She tries to explain with a pout. He lets her snap more pictures.

She heads to New York for a major exhibition where she wins an award for best nature photography. From their shared apartment in Tokyo, Suna congratulates her over the phone.

But the week drags on and her absence is painful. He craves her omurice and the low-salt crisps (which taste suspiciously like cardboard), and even finds himself calling out “tadaima” to no one at all. And it seems like, he’s not the only who feels depressed since both cats have decided to start a hunger strike because apparently what Suna feeds them doesn’t meet their standards (even Peko-chan refused the tuna he gave him.)

He looks at the photo album she made of their travels before bed. Suna is convinced that one day, their shelves will be overflowing not only with mugs but with albums (because they have many years ahead of them, many more moments to share).

He forgets what his life looked like before her, not that it matters anymore, Suna wouldn’t mind erasing every memory from his head to keep exclusively the ones with her.

She finally returns home with the award, and he picks her up from the airport (driving a little too fast and barely stopping at red lights, don’t tell her). When they step in the doorway, Suna grabs her waist and pulls her against him tightly, his face nestles in her neck.

“Rintarou…” she chuckles and grabs his hair—he loves when she does that—“I stink because of the flight, let me take a shower.”

Her cat meows to get her attention.

But Suna wants her all to himself.

“Say tadaima,” he orders, sounding like a child.

She blinks in confusion, then takes his face in her hands, planting a soft kiss on his lips. “Tadaima, my love.”

Suna wants to breathe the words, make it his oxygen. His lungs open, his whole blood is filled with an air he never felt before.

Gosh, she’s everything, he tells himself.

“Okaeri.” He responds.

They take a shower together (until the water runs cold), they order take away (burgers with an extra slice of fries), they watch her stupid reality show (Suna starts to be invested in the drama), he falls asleep on her lap, the cats join him.

That night, Suna dreams that it lasts forever.

(It will.)

author notes: if you read Phoenix and Ashes and Don’t you dare run away you know that i haven’t depicted suna as the most loving and kind human being, but what i enjoy so much about writing is that we can develop complex characters who evolve, fail, get better or worse, and make them experience life-changing events. so i really loved describing this new version of suna and make him fall in love again.

anyway a lot of talking haha when i just wanted to give sunarin a happy ending <3

i hope you enjoyed reading this and I’m gonna go working on the kageyama fic now 👀

[songforeddiemunson]

Haunting in Blackwood Hollow Part 2

An Eddie Munson x F!Reader Miniseries

Series Summary: It’s the year 1991. Eddie and reader check into a rented house in the Appalachian woods, joined by Nancy, Jonathan, Steve, and Robin. Unfortunately for our gang, things in Blackwood Hollow are never as they appear.

Tropes: established relationship, Jonathan x Nancy, no mention of the events from ST, smut, comedy, fluff, scares, bit of whump (but nothing too crazy)

Series Warnings: Swearing, drinking and weed use, sexual and scary situations, minors please DNI.

Chapter Two: Fool Me Once

Chapter warnings: naughty language, mentions of drinking, weed use. Smut, p in v sex, bit rough (you like it) wrap it before you tap it. Spooky situations

Author's Note: Thanks so much for the smut inspo, @hiscrimsonangel (with this post haha iykyk)

Word Count: ~3K

PART ONE

You stayed up quite late that first night catching up with your old friends, drinking cans of pilsner or oversweet margarita mix from sticky solo cups, laughing your asses off, the ouija board forgotten and back in its box. No longer a big fan of heavy drinking yourself, you cut yourself off after just a few drinks, preferring the more mellow buzz of herb than bubbles. 

Jonathan got quite drunk, which was a riot, and his friendly ribbing of Steve always increased in that state, to the delight of everyone in the room. Despite Steve’s history with Nancy (and subsequently Jonathan), the three of them managed to become great friends. 

Robin bemoaned what she referred to as her perpetual spinsterhood, making you all laugh; “I don’t think you can legally call yourself a spinster at 23,” Steve said. “Just enjoy not being tied down yet,” he finished, causing the rest of the room to tease him for projecting, considering he couldn’t seem to find his one-and-only either (but he pretended he didn’t mind, fooling nobody). 

Steve dated plenty, but Robin struggled with it more than he did for obvious reasons. The two of them were roommates for a time in Indianapolis before going their separate ways. The catalyst; one of Steve’s hookups once implied she would like Robin to join them in the bedroom, which horrified them both so much they ultimately got separate places but still lived on the same block. Robin managed a coffee shop and spoke about her wish to try out for the Indianapolis Philharmonic, which thrilled her but made her so nervous she became nauseated whenever she thought about it for too long. Steve had been employed as a junior high school basketball coach for the past year and decided he would like to go back to school for academic sports; he loved working with the kids.

Nancy filled in the group regarding her grad school studies at Columbia University in New York City for journalism. It was hard work but, true to form, Nancy was excelling, and she had a bright future in print journalism in the city. Jonathan had relocated to be with her and was working as a freelance photographer when he wasn’t working in the kitchen of a popular Brooklyn restaurant. He had ultimately decided not to pursue college and chose to support Nancy instead, thinking that would be the best chance for them as a couple. It caused a lot of friction at first, with Nancy initially pushing Jonathan to go to college, but they were able to work through it and had come out stronger.

After high school Eddie had tried his hand at being a musician, mechanic, bartender and assorted other odd jobs with limited success, and ultimately decided to attend vocational school to become a tattoo artist, which was truly his calling. All the doodles he made for Corroded Coffin and the Hellfire Club paid off, and he was one of the most sought-after ink artists in St. Louis, earning enough for the two of you to live in a nice apartment, despite your modest salary as an administrative assistant for a dentist’s office.  

You were all thriving, and it was wonderful to celebrate each other’s successes. The wedding rehearsal was the following evening, and you looked forward to catching up with the younger kids there– “kids” who were all legal adults by this time; a fact that none of you could believe nor enjoyed thinking about. You were all relieved that you weren’t staying with them, despite the less than ideal location in which you found yourselves; those kids were like a pack of ferrets on cocaine, especially when they were all together. It would be too much, so you stuck with your own age bracket.

Finally, around two in the morning, Robin decided to turn in. Nancy and Jonathan followed about fifteen minutes later, leaving you and Eddie alone with Steve.

You stretched and yawned. “I think it’s time for bed. You coming Eddie?”

Eddie waggled his eyebrows at you. “I don’t know, am I?” he asked, his voice dripping with hyperbolic innuendo.

You laughed and gave him a smack on his tightly bedenimed rear end. “Just get moving, Munson.” 

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted, while Steve rolled his eyes.

It turns out that mercifully, someone did actually change the sheets.

A blessing, honestly, considering you were currently tangled up in them, with the sharp bones of Eddie’s pelvis almost painfully pressing into the soft flesh of your thighs. The bed, old and squeaky with a metal frame that resembled something out of a cold war era prison, was a loud testament to the rhythm of your sex. You couldn’t be bothered to care much, since it felt incredible. The few cans of PBR you had chugged didn’t hurt either.

Eddie had you pinned to the mattress, caged between his arms as he nuzzled and suckled your neck, punctuating soft kisses with nips that would surely leave a mark. You enjoyed it like this sometimes, when he would manhandle you just a bit, claiming you, marking you, and fucking you roughly into the mattress. Sure, there was a time and place for soft lovemaking, but sometimes, you just wanted to be nailed.

“Feel so good baby,” he murmured into your ear, barely more than an exhalation, most of his efforts being concentrated on slamming his cock into your depths. You could barely do more than wiggle and squeal with the way he had you immobilized, which seemed to heighten every sensation. Even his breathy little grunts and gasps were sending you into the stratosphere. You clawed at his back, and the resulting moan in your ear helped bring on climax number three, and you bit into Eddie’s shoulder to stifle your cries.

Eddie’s pace began to falter, and he grasped your waist roughly with his fingers as he shuddered and thrust to his own completion, ending with a final grind of his hips against your sensitive clit, making you yelp. “Ha,” he burst triumphantly; he could be a cocky shit when it came to the pleasures he could draw out of you. He also wasn’t wrong. 

After a tender kiss, Eddie rolled off of you and retrieved his boxers from the floor, sliding them on before fumbling around on the bedside table for his smokes.  He lay back down with his back propped up against the pillow, lighting a cigarette and sighing contentedly. He looked at you and grinned.

“You think everyone heard us?”

You chuckled. “I don’t see how they couldn’t,” you said, as you dressed in a tank top and sweatpants. “This bed is so squeaky, it almost wasn’t worth even trying to be quiet.” 

Eddie laughed. “You sound so cute though when you try,” he said as he flicked his ash into the ashtray on his nightstand. “All squeaky and whiny,” he finished with a wink.

“How dare you,” you joked. “I’m a vision of propriety.”

“Properly fucked, you mean.”

“Eddie!” you scolded, laughing.

“I’ll take it back when it stops being true darlin.’” 

“You’re the worst,” you countered.

“You love me,” he said.

“Dammit, you’re right, I do,” you said. You bent to kiss him, and as you pressed your lips to his, you felt him smile.

“I love you too babe,” he said. 

It was incredible, how he could still make your heart beat faster after all this time.

You headed into the ensuite bathroom and started to go through your usual bedtime routine of brushing your teeth and washing your face. You were suddenly struck by how exhausted you were; between traveling, cleaning, drinking (and smoking) and some vigorous sex, you were thoroughly spent. You glimpsed through the open bathroom door that Eddie had picked up his paperback of Needful Things, and was reading it by the light of the table lamp.

You clicked off the bathroom light and were just about to exit when something caught your eye out of the window. You peered closer to the thick glass to get a better look.  

There was someone standing below on the lawn.

You couldn’t make out any details, but you had the sudden, hair-raising sense that whoever it was was looking right at you.

You jumped backward in alarm.  "Eddie!” you shouted. 

He was out of bed and by your side in an instant. “What?!  A rat?  Why are you standing in the dark, babe?”  He peered around the room intently.

“No, down there!”  You pointed out the window, down onto the grass, but now the figure was gone.  “But…but it was there a second ago…”

Eddie bent to the glass for a closer look, brows furrowed.  "I don’t see anything. What was it?“

"A person! They were definitely standing down there. And babe– I swear it was looking at me.”

A look of intense wariness crossed his features, and he straightened, all business.  "Are you sure?“

"Yes! It was right there!”

“Stay here.”  He was out of the bathroom like a shot. He quickly pulled on his flannel pajama pants and strode from the bedroom.  You waited with your heart in your throat as you heard the front door below you creak open.  You watched out the window as Eddie came into view on the lawn, carrying a fireplace poker in one hand. He clicked on a flashlight and began to sweep the property with it.  It was late, and the shadows from the trees that peppered the property created long ribbons of darkness across the grass that the lights from the house were unable to penetrate.  You realized that it must have been difficult for Eddie to see out there, even armed with a flashlight, and you broke into gooseflesh at the thought.

Screw this, I’m not leaving him alone out there, you thought to yourself, and left the bathroom.  Eddie hadn’t turned on any of the lights in his wake, and in the darkness the house had taken on an even more sinister quality than when you had arrived. You tried to push it out of your mind, dismissing it as the aftershock from your scare. It permeated regardless, with a nearly palpable weight. You hurried downstairs and toward the front door, clicking on lights as you went.  The downstairs area was deserted; everyone else must have also turned in. You quickly scanned the entry area for a weapon, finding only an umbrella. It would have to do.

You stepped outside, eyes sweeping the lawn for Eddie, hearing only crickets as you peered into the trees. In the moments since you had taken your eyes off of him he had disappeared from view. Your heart was pounding and your breath misted around you in the chilly night air.  You crept forward slowly, and you found that your eyes were having difficulty adjusting to the darkness. The shadows were too inconsistent. Anyone could be watching me from those trees and I’d never know it, you thought. Dammit babe, where did you go? 

“Babe?” you called softly.  Silence. “Eddie,” you called again, a little louder this time. Was that a twig snapping?

“What?” said a voice, from directly behind you.

You squeaked with fright and whirled, striking out with the umbrella.  "Ow, what the fuck?!“ Eddie bent forward, clutching his head.

"Oh my fucking god Eddie! You scared me!”

He rubbed his head in irritation where you had whacked him, mussing up his curls. “What are you doing out here? I asked you to stay inside!”

“I’m sorry! I couldn’t just stand there waiting for you. Are you alright?” you stood on your toes to get a better look at your boyfriend’s scalp, but thankfully there was no blood.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said, then sighed resignedly.  "I didn’t see anything in front, so I circled round the back to be sure. There’s nothing out here that I can see.  Are you sure you saw someone?“

"Positive.”

“Your eyes couldn’t have been playing tricks on you?”

“Edward,” you said, your voice taking on an acerbic tone. “You know I’m not prone to hysterics.”

“Fair enough,” he shrugged, and hugged you to him.  "Maybe it was Steve or something.”

“If it was, where is he now? I didn’t see anyone when I came downstairs.”

Eddie could only shrug at that.

Once back inside, he bolted the front door. "Seems solid,” he said.  He went around the house and checked to be sure all the windows and the back door were locked, and when he was satisfied, you went back to the bedroom together.  As you passed Jonathan and Nancy’s room, Jonathan opened the door and poked his head out, his hair mussed and sticking up in every direction.  

“Someone scream?” he mumbled blearily.

“Eddie saw a spider, go back to bed,” you said. Eddie shot daggers at you with his eyes, but a slight upward curl of his lips belied his irritation. Jonathan only nodded and closed his door.

Back in your own room, you undressed and crawled under the covers, snuggling up to Eddie.

It was quiet for a moment, but the wheels in your mind were still turning. “Maybe it was just a local cutting across the lawn on the way somewhere. They may not be used to the house being occupied,” you offered.

"Maybe,” Eddie replied, but he didn’t sound convinced. “Will the light bother you if I read for a while?” he asked.

“Not at all,” you said.  "Going to sleep with the light on will be okay with me tonight.”

The following morning you shuffled downstairs for breakfast, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as your housemates warmed up the oatmeal or ate the boxed cereals that Nancy helpfully supplied the previous evening.

“Did anyone see or hear anything strange last night?” you asked the group as you poured yourself a cup of hot coffee.

“I think I did,” Steve began. “Some sort of instrument I think. What was that Robin?”

“Bedsprings,” Robin stated simply as she swallowed a bite of peaches ‘n cream flavored oatmeal, looking the worse for wear.

“Uh, besides that,” you said, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. Eddie laughed.

“Don’t hate,” he said.

“I heard Eddie scream at a spider,” Jonathan said, and this time it was your turn to laugh.

“It was NOT me, and it was not a fucking spider!” Eddie yelled, offended by the notion.

“No,” you said, quelling your giggles. “It was actually me. I– I thought I saw someone outside last night, watching me when I was getting ready for bed.”

Steve sat forward, suddenly wide awake. “Wait, really?”

You nodded. “Eddie went out to look for whoever it was but he didn’t find anything.”

“Oh shit,” Robin said, “that’s the last thing I needed to hear. Can we go to a hotel now?”

“I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation,” Nancy said. “Maybe it was just a local?”

“The nearest neighbors are a quarter mile away,” you said. 

“I dunno,” Jonathan chimed in, “you hear stories about cannibals living in the woods in Appalachia…”

“That’s a gross stereotype,” Robin scolded.

“Feel free to ignore him,” Nancy said with a sigh.

“My mom was from Appalachia!” Eddie spat.

“Okay, nevermind,” Jonathan said, as he shrank down in his seat and went back to his oatmeal.

“Well if it wasn’t a local, what could it have been?” Steve asked.

“Maybe messing with the ouija board woke something up,” Robin said, and though you normally didn’t place much stock in those things, you felt something akin to an ice cold finger trail down your spine. You shivered.

Steve chuckled. “You can’t be serious.”

“No really!” Robin cried defensively. “In the movie Witchbo–”

“I am not using a shitty 80s horror film as a guidebook!” Steve shouted.

“Whatever,” Robin said. “If you guys get murdered by an evil axe-wielding ouija spirit, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You laughed it off along with everyone else, yet the idea wouldn’t leave you. It was unsettling, to put it mildly.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie was studying your expression. You did always wear your emotions on your sleeve, and he could sense your unease.

“So,” Eddie said. "What’s everyone wearing to the wedding?"

His umber eyes slid over to yours as the conversation devolved into fashion and hairstyling chatter.

Thank you, you mouthed to your boyfriend, and his Mona Lisa smile wordlessly said, I’ve got you. And he did, that much you would never be unsure about. Regardless of what was happening in your life, Eddie Munson would always have your back, which made you feel very lucky indeed. 

You didn’t know it yet, but it was a sentiment you would come to rely upon much more in the days to come. 

To Be Continued...

More is coming! As always, comments and reblogs are the lifeblood of every fic writer!

MASTERLIST

[vodika-vibes]

Hello Vodika. I know you have a lot of requests, but maybe a Mayday x Reader? (soulmate au?) >//<

One More Kiss

Summary: Her name has been part of him since his decant day, written on his collarbone in looping cursive in teal ink. On days when training was awful, he would trace her name and imagine what it would be like to meet her. When the war ends, Mayday finally meets her. And it’s love at first sight.

Pairing: Commander Mayday x F!Reader

Word Count: 1379

Prompt: Soulmate AU - Soulmates names are written on their body

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, reader is described as wearing glasses and having hair

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Hihi! I hope you like this one! I wanted soft and sweet and adorable, to get away from the sadder Soulmates AUs that I've written recently.

Mayday lays in bed, his arm tucked under his head as he hovers somewhere between awake and asleep. Really, he should get up. There are a lot of things that need to be done around the house, and working would be better than lounging in bed.

He turns his head as he hears a low sigh from the bed next to him, and a small smile crosses his lips when he sees that she’s still asleep.

His cyare.

His soulmate.

Carefully, to not wake her, he rolls onto his side to watch her sleep. 

His cyare is a musician.

Well, that’s something of an understatement.

She’s a pop star. One of the more popular musical artists in the Core. Popular with kids, teenagers, and young adults mostly.

She works so hard. She has diets, and personal trainers, and voice coaches. Not to mention her manager, agent, and a team of lawyers that circle her like a pack of particularly protective sharks.

She had a concert last night and they didn’t return home until late. It took almost an hour for Mayday to pull all of the pins out of her hair and pull it out of the intricate style it had been pulled into the night before.

She stirs and rolls to bury her face into her pillow.

Mayday smothers a laugh, she still has glitter on her face. Odds are, they’ll be finding glitter all over their home for the next week.

His gaze lingers on her face for a moment, his fond smile widening as he admires her. Mayday reaches out and brushes a strand of hair off the side of her neck, revealing his name, written in neat print, just under her ear.

His fingers graze his name, and she shivers and tries her best to curl into his chest as if hiding from the morning sun.

Slowly, she stirs from her deep slumber and blinks up at him, blearily. “Mmm…May?”

“Good morning, cyare.” He murmurs, “Did I wake you?”

She hums and buries herself against him, her arms draping clumsily around him, “I don’t think so.” She finally murmurs, “I think I had a bad dream.”

“Oh?” His arms wrap securely around her, and with a careful tug, he rolls back onto his back and pulls her onto his chest, “Do you want to talk about it?”

She shifts so that her head is resting just under his chin, her hair smells like the chemicals that are used to style her hair, and Mayday makes a mental note to remind her to shower before breakfast.

“Dreamt that you got tired of my career,” She murmurs, pulling him from his thoughts, “That you left to find someone better.”

“Well, that’s silly,” He lightly taps her cheek with one finger, “How could I find someone better than the person who was made for me?”

Her lips curl up into a fond smile, “I know. But it was still a sad dream.”

“I bet it was,” Mayday slides his hand to the back of her neck, “Did you sleep well, other than that?”

“Mm. Was exhausted.”

“I know you were, you fell asleep when I was taking your hair down.” She ducks her head bashfully, “I don’t mind, cyare. I know how hard you’ve been working these last few months.”

“Last night was the last concert,” She murmurs, “Maybe we can take that vacation?”

Mayday’s fingers wander to his name one more time, and he traces the familiar handwriting, “A vacation?”

“Mm, I know you wanted to go to Pabu. Check on Crosshair.” She murmurs.

“You hate tropical places, cyare.” Mayday reminds her with an adoring smile.

“I might hate it less if I go with you.” She replies, shifting so that she’s sitting up and straddling him. “Besides, I like the beach. I just don’t like the humidity that comes with tropical places.”

Mayday hums thoughtfully, “I would love to see you lounging in a bathing suit.”

She makes a face, “How’s it any different from my normal concert outfits?”

“Well, because I don’t have to share you with thousands of people,” Mayday replies as he settles his hands on her hips. “And, my beautiful, perfect cyare. No one knows what you look like when you’re not wearing your wig and contacts, which means no one will harass you.”

“So, the perfect vacation.” She murmurs.

Mayday reaches over to the bedside table to grab his datapad, and he opens a browser, “Well, I’ll arrange a stay at one of the hotels. And order you some swimsuits.”

She laughs softly, “I can help, May.”

He drops the datapad onto the bed so he’s able to reach up and cup her face with his hands, “You, cyare, need to take a shower. You have glitter on your face. You do more than enough, let me do this.”

She smiles down at him as she rubs her cheek against his hand, “You don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” Mayday encourages her to lay back on his chest so he’s able to catch her lips with his own, “You do plenty.” He kisses her one more time, and then releases her, “Now, off you go. Shower time. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

She pouts dramatically, “You don’t want to join me in the shower?”

Mayday laughs, “I know you, cyar’ika. You basically cook yourself in the shower, and I like my skin uncooked.” His joke is rewarded with a bubbled laugh, “I’m going to make you breakfast, since you didn’t eat last night.”

“Mm, I am hungry.” She murmurs. Then she ducks her head and catches his lips in one more kiss before she slips out of bed and meanders over to the fresher.

Mayday watches her vanish into the bathroom but doesn’t get out of bed until he hears the sound of water running and notices steam escaping from the door that hadn’t been shut all the way.

He doesn’t bother pulling on a shirt as he heads into the kitchen. He flips the power button for the caf machine and adds water to his cyare’s electric kettle for her morning tea.

That done, he pulls eggs and precut veggies out of the fridge to start on the morning omelets.

By this point in their relationship, Mayday and his Cyare have a set post-concert schedule. The day after his cyare has a show, she’s allowed to sleep in as late as she wants. She gets to take as long of a shower as she wants while she uses the hot water to soothe her aching muscles from all of the dancing, and Mayday makes her normal post-concert breakfast, an omelet with onion and pepper, and one piece of toast.

It’s the only time she wants omelets, though Mayday would happily make her omelets every morning if she wanted.

He turns to the kitchen door as he hears light footsteps behind him, and an adoring smile crosses his face as he sees her enter the kitchen. Her soaking wet hair is pulled into a braid to dry, she’s wearing her normal glasses and has pulled on a tank top and some shorts to relax. She’s not wearing makeup and has even removed her nail polish.

His cyare looks nothing like she normally looks when she’s performing.

Of course, Mayday loves her regardless of what she looks like, but he isn’t ashamed of admitting that he prefers it when his cyare looks like this. It means that he gets all of her attention.

She smiles at him, “You’re staring.”

“You’re beautiful.” Mayday replies, “I can’t help it.”

She laughs softly, “Thank you.”

Mayday sets his spatula on the counter, and holds his hands out for her, “Come here, beautiful.” She walks over to him and he folds his arms around her while her arms drape around his neck. “I love you.”

A bright smile crosses her face, “I love you too.”

He leans in and bumps his forehead against hers, “One more kiss, cyar’ika. And then I’ll get back to cooking.”

And she giggles before she leans in and kisses him, slow and deep.

Mayday leans into her, deepening the kiss. He never expected that he would be allowed to find happiness.

He’s never been so happy to be wrong in his life.

[aegontaargaryens]

the fear of him || aemond targaryen

summary: your father's transgressions against the greens had finally come back around. nothing would satisfy them, not a bent knee, nor the offer of gold and silk. a captive in the form of your father's youngest daughter, you, was the only option. unfortunately, an unwanted betrothal to a horrifying man came along with it.

pairing: aemond targaryen x f!reader

note: this is the first fic i've written in years, so i hope you all enjoy it!! i tried to capture how aemond is described in the books as well as i could, and im willing to do a part 2 if there is interest! thank you to the lovely anon who requested, happy reading!!

word count: 2.6k

This was never how things were meant to go.

Not the betrothal, no. You knew how things went; you knew that one day your father’s name would be signed on the dotted line of a betrothal contract with your name spelled in plain, black ink. You knew your duty; represent your family name with honour, with dignity, produce a squabble of healthy children for your future husband all while remaining in the background, a ghost in the shadows.

The inevitable didn’t break your heart anymore, you had been trained to accept it, coached, and taught how to be a dutiful wife, the Lady of a keep that was overlooked by what you hoped to be, a docile and kind man. No one expected a loving marriage, not at first of course. Perhaps love would come about in time.

But Aemond Targaryen would never feel your love. Just like he would never feel or see your fear.

Your father’s first mistake was declaring for the Black’s when his lands were so close to the Crownlands. His second mistake was refusing to bend the knee when King Aegon Targaryen, the second of his name, arrived on the back of Sunfyre. It didn’t take much destruction before your father was declaring his fealty to King Aegon II, begging for forgiveness for his transgressions.

“Your bent knee is not to my satisfaction, my Lord. You participated in acts of treason, claimed to many that I was not the heir to the Iron Throne. Acts that many would see you dead for, my Lord.”

Your body shook at the words falling from his lips, the tears threatening to spill, your eyes closed as your father ducked his head in shame at the King’s words. Everyone in the hall knew what was coming, knew your father’s body would soon mark a mass grave, and your brother would take over as Lord.

“But I pride myself on being a merciful King to my subjects. I cannot rule over a land of empty castles and dead families. Your taxes will be raised, significantly. Your lands spread out to other Lords. Your youngest son will be called back from the Riverlands and will join us in Kings Landing as a ward.”

The Kings eyes surveyed the room as he spoke, the roar above your home shaking the very foundation and walls as you felt your body shake with it. It was mere moments before the doors of the hall slammed open, your head automatically turning to the source.

Aemond Targaryen strode into the room. A cocky smirk on his lips as he observed the sight in front of him, his dragon’s roars heard throughout the entire hall.

“And, as a sign of peace from your family… your eldest daughter shall marry my brother, for once the marriage is sealed, any act of defiance will be an act of defiance against your kin, and the kin of your kin. I, King Aegon, the second of my name, decree it as such.”

Eyes widening in horror, your father went to object and was swiftly denied, the look on the King’s face a case for no objection. You could barely breath as Aemond the Kinslayer passed by your family, joining his brother in front of all of you. A glare was observed between brothers, perhaps a sign that this marriage was not desired by him either, but no choice was given. The King had decreed it as such.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been two moons since you had left your home, since the Red Keep had become your home. Since you had been placed in the dragon’s den, alone, with no confidante and no support system. Your family remained in their keep, informed that they would not be able to attend the wedding of their only daughter.

The wedding was impending, just mere nights away. Your relationship with your future husband was… rocky, to say the least. Aemond had made it clear this was not a marriage of desire, nor a marriage of want. It was a marriage of convenience and duty. He had made that clear when he paraded his paramour, Alys, wherever you could see them.

The roars of the dragons still frightened you at night, the roars of Vhagar shaking you to the core every time, knowing full well she and her rider would willingly take you down in just one bite at any moment.

“Enjoying the flowers, are you?”

Whipping your body to the sound of the voice, Aemond strode into the gardens, your guard stepping back as to allow him into your personal space.

You simply nodded your head in return, the words lost on your tongue as you turned back to the colourful objects in front of you. The grip you felt on your arm had a small cry dropping from your lips as you were whipped back around, the prince’s one eye glaring into yours as his grip tightened on your arm.

“I asked you a question, my Lady. I would expect my future Lady wife, and a future Princess to respond when her husband asks her a question.”

You tried to keep the shake of your body to a minimum as you stared back. “My apologies, my Prince. The flowers are quite beautiful, I find comfort in the gardens.”

It seemed he was satisfied with your answer, as his grip on your arm loosened and he stepped back. Your legs felt like jelly, the impulse to allow them to cave and drop had you focusing solely on them, not wanting him to see the fear that now covered your body from head-to-toe.

“You would do well to remember that this marriage, the home you will make here, is not for your comfort. You are, by all accounts, a captive of my family. When we marry, you will be my wife, and my property. You will be mine; you will do what I see fit, and you will go where I see fit,”

Your head ducked as you nodded your head, the tears prickling at the corner of your eyes which you hoped to keep at bay until he chose to walk away. “I understand, my Prince. I am the price for my father’s mistakes. I hope to one day satisfy the payment for his transgressions.”

Huffing at your words, the Prince turned towards your guard, the man that was instructed to be with you at all times to make sure you were not committing acts of treason or defiance against the King or his family. “Take her back to her rooms. She is to stay there until the wedding, only the maids and servants will enter. If she defies you, you will find me and inform me of such.”

The anger and frustration were radiating through your body as he set his eyes back on you, a smirk prominent on his face. “My dear future wife, I would learn how to turn that frown into a smile by our wedding. No one likes an unhappy bride.”

His thumb reached out to trace your lips as you subconsciously leaned away, prompting a look of annoyance to flash across his eyes as he swiped his finger up your cheek, wrapping a finger around a lock of your hair that had fallen before he took his hand away.

“You truly are a sight when you smile, Lady Y/N. I look forward to hopefully seeing a lovely smile on your face within the next few days.”

With that, Aemond turned his back towards you and departed from the gardens, your guard nodding his head at you to direct you to follow him back to your rooms.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“You know, he’s quite infatuated with you, my Lady.” Queen Helaena had been nothing but kind to you since your arrival in the Red Keep. She had gone out of her way multiple times to come to your rooms, informing the guards that since she was the Queen, her word was above that of her brothers.

Not responding, you gave a slight nod of your head at her words. It wasn’t right to badmouth the Prince, especially when the Prince was also the Queen’s own brother.

“I know he is not a good man in your eyes, and I’m sure he is not your ideal choice. You’re away from your home, he has confined you to your rooms, will not allow you visitors. I know you don’t see it, but many people here are still angered by your Father’s choices. Aemond is just trying to protect you.”

“And his protection involves evoking fear in me every chance he gets? Terrifying me to the core in the hopes that what? I’ll submit and do as he chooses? I don’t have a choice!”

Neither of you were expecting the outburst that fell from your lips, a rosy colour instantly reaching up your neck to your cheeks as you bowed your head. “Forgive me, my Queen. That was uncalled for, and not my place.”

Shaking her head slightly, a small sigh fell from Helaena’s lips. “You speak truthfully, and honestly, my Lady. My brother will not harm you once you are married, that I am sure of.”

“Perhaps he will focus solely on Alys and I will be a forgotten thought.”

Tutting at your words, Helaena sent a bashful smile in your direction. “I believe it is time to get ready for the wedding, the servants and maids should be here soon.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The sharing of blood, the fire that encircled the two of you, the words spoken in Valyrian, they were all foreign to you. You had attended plenty of weddings, weddings of those in the North, and those in the South. You had never attended a wedding based around Valyrian customs, had never seen the ways in which Targaryen’s and Velaryon’s would wed.

The ceremony had ended before you could even comprehend what had just occurred. Your arm was wrapped loosely through Aemond’s as he guided you throughout the room, stopping and conversing with all the Lord’s and Lady’s in attendance. You knew your body was shaking, your nerves on high the longer and longer you spent with your husband.

You knew he could sense it, could even feel the way your body shook against his as he guided you throughout the room. “My dear wife, if you continue to shake like this, people will begin to suspect you’re ill… or that you fear your husband. You don’t want rumours to spread throughout the kingdom, now do you?”

His words were whispered gently against your ear, the small pinch to your waist a signal that you ought to listen or there would likely be consequences, consequences that you had no interest in finding out about.

“My apologies, my Prince. My body and mind have been through a lot today, I believe I am simply nervous for what is to come.”

Quirking an eyebrow at your words, a small chuckle dropped from the man’s lips. “The bedding? Or our marriage? I am quite adept at pleasuring a woman, so no need to fret over that. Our marriage? I can’t say I have much experience, so I believe we’re both learning.”

A shiver ran through your body at his words, his arm tightening against yours at the reaction. Pulling you off to the shadows, Aemond leaned down into your space, his good eye staring directly into yours, his lips just a wisp away from your own. You could feel his warm breath on your lips, his violet eye moving over your face.

“It was a joke, Princess. You will need to learn to be around me without shaking in fear. If you continue to do so, I will give you a reason to fear me. I will not have the realm thinking I beat my lady wife, and you would do well to remember I have never struck you, nor have I caused you any physical harm. This marriage is a marriage of convenience and a marriage of need. It does not mean it must be a marriage of hatred. You are intelligent to fear me, Princess Y/N. Learn how to hide it.”

You didn’t have time to respond, as the room begin to erupt in cheers, the sound of the words you were dreading the most going throughout the room.

It was time for the bedding.

Barely having time to think, you were pulled from Aemond and he from you as you felt yourself being tugged and pulled along the hallways. Articles of clothing were pulled off the closer and closer you got to yours and Aemond’s newly shared chambers.

You were shoved into the room, your smallclothes covering what was left of your modesty as the door slammed behind you. A deep breath fell from your lungs as you slowly turned your body around, your eyes connecting with Aemond. His breeches were all that remained on him, a goblet of Dornish wine in his hand as he observed you.

“You did look quite lovely tonight, Princess. Your dress was very beautiful, and the colours truly highlighted your features,” Aemond held a second goblet out to you, a small look of desire evident in his eyes.

Slowly making your way towards him, you accepted the offered goblet in his hand and gently placed it to your lips, the Dornish red eliciting a small moan to fall from your lips.

“I prefer Dornish reds myself. They are sourer, but much stronger. I find they heighten all pleasure. A perfect addition for the remainder of our night, wife.”

You had almost forgotten about what was to come, what was likely to happen in the coming minutes. The nerves came back almost immediately, the fear of the man in front of you making your hands shake and your body stress.

Aemond’s goblet was placed on the table at your reaction, a sigh and a roll of his eyes the only response. He sauntered towards you, your own goblet being removed from your hand and placed on the table. His left hand gently ran up your arm to your neck, his thumb gently digging into your pulse before his hand continued its way up, finalizing its place against your cheek.

You couldn’t help but subconsciously lean into his hand. You were terrified of him, but you had received no comfort, no physical contact since you arrived in Kings Landing. No one had gone out of their way to touch you, to hug you as your mother used to, or to press a kiss to your forehead as your father used to.

His touch was… kind, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as his other hand moved to tip your head up to look into his eye.

“I’m going to kiss you now, wife. I shall ask you to try and not fear me tonight, for this will be a lot easier… for both of us if you can simply try, for one night.”

Not giving you a chance to respond, his plump lips pressed lightly against yours, his hand moving into your hair as he pulled you against him. You didn’t know what to do, your hands stayed limp at your sides as you internally panicked. Aemond didn’t give you the chance to react, his free hand pulling your body flush against his, your eyes falling closed as you gripped onto him for balance.

It didn’t take long for your lips to move in sync with his, the small smirk prominent against your lips when he realized you were reciprocating. Your shaking had stopped, your body hyper focused on what the Prince’s actions were currently doing to you. The fear was, for the moment, a thought that had fallen into the back of your head.

It was a start.

[nanowrimo]

Pro Tips from a NaNo Coach: How to Keep Writing

NaNoWriMo can seem like a daunting task sometimes, for NaNo newbies and veterans alike. Fortunately, our NaNo Coaches are here to help guide you through November! Today, author Rebecca Kim Wells is here to share some tips for meeting your goal this month:

Hello, dear writers! By this time in your NaNo journey I hope you’ve made some progress on your novel. (As far as I’m concerned, any progress is winning progress!) But I also know that the second week is often where doubt sets in. While the first few days are full of jitters and adrenaline, by week two things aren’t as new and exciting. You might be tempted to turn off that early alarm. You might have hit a plot quagmire and have no idea where to go. You might be facing the fact that all novelists face—that in order to write a book, you actually have to, you know, write it. And writing a novel is a long-haul project.

So how do you keep making progress when things get hard? Here are a few pitfalls I’ve experienced (and things I do to keep myself going):

1. I don’t know what happens next. 

Have you reached a point in your story where you don’t know how to get from point E to point G? Are you wracking your brain trying to come up with point F with no success? 

Good news, you’ve got several options! Do you really need point F? You can always just skip directly to point G. If you’re certain something happens between E and G, you can just write in “Somehow, the intrepid adventurers made it to the Pit of Despair!” and move on to the next scene. (Seriously, you’re allowed to do this!) 

If you’re well and truly stuck with no idea what happens next at all, take a moment to come up with a few “I wonder” statements: “I wonder what my hero is doing right now.” “I wonder what would happen if a three-headed monster interrupted dinner.” “I wonder which character is plotting a betrayal.” “I wonder who is secretly in love with who!” Then step away from your novel. Go for a walk! Read a book! Watch a TV show! Take a shower! Make dinner! But keep a notebook close, because the answer to at least one of your “I wonder” statements will come to you…

2. This feels like work and I’m bored! 

This does not mean you’re doing it wrong—writing is hard work, and sometimes it’s very boring! So as much as possible, take the opportunity to indulge yourself. Are you bored with your story? Throw in a cuddly penguin or a banter-y fencing duel or a secret tragic backstory—delight yourself with your favorite tropes and story elements! 

If you’re groaning over the plodding monotony of writing, indulge your writing self: write with the fancy notebook or the pen with cool colored ink. (I recently bought my first fountain pen and I am in love.) Light a candle. Make a special snack, use your special mug. Write with a silly cap or luxurious sweater a la Jo March. NaNoWriMo is a ridiculous, wonderful endeavor and it’s time for you to embrace that ridiculous wonderfulness wholeheartedly.

3. Is this any good? 

Great news! It is not your job right now to make anything good. Your only job is to keep writing your draft. Whether or not your first draft is good is irrelevant, so stop worrying about it! The only way a first draft can fail is if it doesn’t exist. I think Shannon Hale was the genius who said once, “When writing a first draft, I have to remind myself constantly that I'm only shoveling sand into a box so later I can build castles.” Let’s all have fun building our sandcastles.

Rebecca Kim Wells writes books filled with magic and fury (and often dragons). Her debut novel Shatter the Sky was a New England Book Award Finalist, an ALA Rainbow Book List selection, an Indies Introduce selection, and a Kids’ Indie Next Pick. She is also the author of Storm the Earth and Briar Girls. If she were a hobbit, she would undoubtedly be a Took.

[harrypotter-imaginess]

A/N: So this is kind of like the prologue to a Fred and George Weasley story I wrote several years ago, that I am currently rewriting. I think I actually prefer doing the “Would Include’s” over regular imagines, they’re a bit less pressure, and I can always expand them into an imagine if I (or you the reader) want.

The lovely @youreanangelbaby​ made a playlist for this series for her follower celebration: Spotify I Tidal

Imagines Series Based on this post:  Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here!/ Part 3 here!

- You’re probably not from their house. You’re most likely either from Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw

- You’re a year younger than them, and a year older than the golden trio.

- It’s probably George that notices you first.

- You’re just this painfully shy, beautiful little thing.

- He feels this rush of affection, and his heart swell. He feels like he has to protect and guide you.

- So he ends up talking to you inside class first.

- “Snape’s a bit of a git ain’t he.”

- You just look at him with wide eyes, nod slightly and look back at your work.

- And then George tries to talk to you about your interests.

- “You like quidditch?”

- “Yeah”

- It’s the first word he’s heard from you.

- “Have you thought about trying out for your house’s team, I heard they’re looking for a Keeper.

- George thinks the friendship is pretty one sided until Snape calls on him in class one day

- “Mr. Weasley, what is a standard ingredient in Swelling potion?”

- “O-oh um-��� he hadn’t been paying attention to be honest.

- From the corner of his eye he notices you furiously tapping on the word “Puffer fish” written on your parchment.

- “Puffer fish.” He says without a second of doubt. And you almost smile, granted he probably didn’t have anything else, but no one has ever trusted you like that before.

- “Puffer fish eyes, Mr. Weasley.” Snape drawls. But George looks to you and grins

- You’re both closer after that. You help George with homework, and he helps you with quidditch

- Fred noticed the friendship, and half to support his brother and take interests in his interests, and half from curiosity, ends up befriending you through quidditch as well.

- “No you can’t stay in just one spot (Y/N),” He tells you, moving you a bit to the side.

- “But it feels like it’s risky to move in this kind of situation.”

- “If you don’t move goals you’ll lose.”

- Somehow, quidditch practice turns to sneaking out on weekends with the marauders map.

- “Where’d you get that thing anyway?” You ask

- George shrugs

- “Found it in Dad’s things.” Fred says.

- “So we’re going to Zonko’s?” You ask, and they both exchange a look before asking:

- “Where do you want to go?” In unison

- You can feel the heat creeping up your neck and onto your face.

- You’ve never had this much attention before.

- “I want to get fireworks from Zonko’s.” And then a quieter voice you admit, “I’ve never been.”

- At that George grabs your hand pulling you forward, while Fred pushes you from behind

- “Well now we really have to go to Zonko’s”

- Getting into lots of trouble.

- “Fred you’ve got to hurry up!” You mutter, looking around the corner as George stands on the other end of the hall looking over that corner, and Fred rummages through the potions closet.

- “And be careful! Snape’ll notice if anything’s out of order.” George hisses.

- Helping them brew love potion

- “So uh,” And you feel sweat form as you sit in the back of the empty corner of the greenhouse. “Who is this for?”

- Coming to Hogwarts, you’ve never had all that many friends. So the thought that one of your two closest friends may leave you to spend all their time with someone else, makes you a little sad.

- But you want to be happy in their happiness, even if drinking a love potion probably isn’t the best way to do it, so you put on a brave face and smile.

- “Mrs. Norris.” They say in unison

- “Excuse me.”

- And then they tell you their elaborate plan to get Filch’s cat to fall in love with Fang, and how it’ll drive him crazy.

-Despite yourself, you’re a little relived. And a little disapointed in yourself, you should know better by now.

- Knocking on their dorm window, as you float on your broom, just to tell them that you made it onto the quidditch team.

- “I’m sorry if I’m disturbing you. I was just so happy when I found out and I wanted to tell you righ-“

- They both pull you inside the dorm and give you a big hug

- “We knew you could do it”

- “I’m so proud of you.”

- The next week, you wake up and there’s this poorly wrapped pair of brand new quidditch gloves from them on your nightstand

- And you just start to tear up, because you know that they’re not rich or anything, and that they could spent their allowance on candy or pranks from Zonko’s.

- But instead they got you these gloves.

- So when you see them in the corridor, you grab them both into a hug.

- “I love you guys.”

- They’ve never really heard those words from anyone outside their family. They don’t really know when it started, but somewhere along the way, you started to make a great big home in their hearts.

- “I love you too.” George says it first, and gives you a squeeze back. Before he gets shoved by Fred.

- “Oi, why are you making me look bad?” Fred glares at him as his twin laughs.

- “You don’t have to say it back Fred, I ju-“

- “I love you too.” He says, the words roll out in a rush, and his face flush’s bright red. George can’t seem to stop laughing.

- “Let’s just go to class, we’re already late!” He mumbles, his face is lobster red at this point, and George and you move to keep up with him.

- “Since when do you care about class?” George jokes.

- “Since today!”

- Hanging out with them means your public profile has increased significantly as well.

- “Hey, who’s the (guy/girl) always around Fred and George?”

- “I don’t know, but they’re cute aren’t they?”

- It’s true, you’re adorable, especially when you’re laughing at something Fred said

- “Who’s the (Girl/Boy), who you’re always with you?” Angelina asks, and Fred shrugs

- “Thats (Y/N).”

- “They’re f*cking adorable.”

- Fred’s a little taken aback and just laughs. Yeah you are pretty cute. But it’s more like how he see’s Ginny than actual attraction.

- “That person you’re always with the new keeper for (Y/H)?” Oliver Wood asks casually as they’re changing for quidditch practice.

- “Yeah, they’re good aren’t they?” George says with a grin, he’s awful proud you made it on, especially since he and Fred basically coached you.

- “They’ve certainly got a pretty face.” Oliver says with a hum, and that makes George stutter to a stop. He feels a mild twinge of jealousy but brushes it off.

- “You fancy them mate?” He asks, a teasing grin spreading across his face. And he doesn’t miss how Oliver’s ears turn red.

- “You want me to put in a good word for you?” He says between howls of laughter and Oliver just rolls his eyes and shoves him away.

- “I’m just glad you’re in love with something other quidditch!” George shouts as Oliver begins to walk away.

- You probably have a small crush on Oliver as well. He’s older for one, and the other being that he’s very good at quidditch.

- Oliver doesn’t share emotions very well, even though the feelings are reciprocated.

- “You should quit quidditch.” He tells you after a match.

- And your heart plummets as he abruptly walks away.

- He meant that you should quit quidditch because you might end up getting hurt, or getting scars on your face.

- You took it as if you were a terrible player, and should quit while you’re ahead.

- Afterwards Fred and George probably comfort you in your dorm.

- “Oliver’s a prat, doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” George says.

- “Want me to turn his hair pink?” Fred asks and you laugh.

- The next week Oliver’s hair is lime green and he’s chasing Fred and George on his broom.

- “Sorry we couldn’t make it pink.” Fred says later, and you just laugh.

- The fact that they did anything at all is more than enough.

- You can tell them apart, it’s something you don’t even realize until the moment comes.

-You’re walking out of potions class, Fred ran to the bathroom, and you manage to catch up to George.

_”Hey George, did you manage to catch what pages we’re supposed to read, my ink got smudged.” You say, holding up your ink stained hand.

- George grins, thinking he’ll have a bit of fun.

- “George? I’m Fred.” He shakes his head, biting back a smile. “And you call yourself our best friend.”

- You look at him for several long seconds, and George can already feel the hairs on the back of his neck start to stand.

-”No, you’re George.” You tell him, looking back down at the parchment. “So did you get the page numbers or not?” You ask, and the entire moment’s so casual for you. 

- You miss the significance of it completely, finally waving down another classmate and asking them for the page numbers.

- George can’t hide his dumb struck expression. George, by all accounts, is identical to Fred. No one can tell them apart. 

- To be honest, since he was a small boy, he didn’t really see the similarity. Fred was so much bolder than he was, more charismatic and charming. 

- Where he saw himself as more diplomatic, a bit quieter, and more sensitive as well. 

- Since their childhood, the two could only notice differences between them. Though they shared some interests, they were very different people. 

- George smiles, of course you would be able to tell them apart. 

- They talk a lot about their family, and you find yourself a little nostalgic for a place you’ve never even been.

- When Christmas comes around, you get a sweater from Molly Weasley herself.

- “Yeah, it’s pretty embarrassing.” Fred starts

- “You don’t have to wear it-“ George is about to say, when he see’s you hug the sweater to your chest.

- “It smells like you.” You tell them, like honeysuckle and sunshine.

- “I love it.” You say with a giant smile on your face.

- Endless amounts of mischief

- And endless adventures.

[elliewritessometimes]

IT’S @mattieswheelers BIRTHDAY!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVELY WE LOVE YOU SO MUCH

beCAUSE of this, myself and @notsomightymightytiger decided to steal tea leaf’s time travelling mattie au and create a whole entire fic with their ideas and also a design that @ari-is-anxious did a while back!! hope you enjoy aaaaaaa <3333 aLSO stabbies try and spot as many starboard references as you can heheheh 

this can be read on ao3 here if you prefer the format :)

tw: swearing, murder (it’s minor and resolved tho jsgh), religion (nicco my love read with care), blood, i really hope i haven’t missed anything please do let me know if i missed anything

-

Mattie had always been able to time travel. For as long as she could remember, her walk-in wardrobe had been lined with silver metal and held no clothes at all. As a child, this made it all the more exciting, though as she grew older and actually started to want to own clothes, it became a little inconvenient. She supposed all great inventions came with some kind of sacrifice.

Her uncle had made the time machine as a gift when Mattie was born. Her parents, like any basic adults, assumed the wardrobe-sized box was simply a toy and had taken no interest in it. Mattie, from the age of about three when her curiosity had really set in, was the one who discovered that the machine was in fact a working portal and not just a children’s toy. Since then, she had been happily travelling time and space during the darkest hours of night.

(You may have entirely valid concerns about a three year old having full access to time travel - luckily, not just for Mattie’s safety but also that of the entire human race, her uncle had set what were effectively child locks on a lot of the controls. These were diminished the day that Mattie turned thirteen. Uncle Calvin had always been a little weird, but he certainly wasn’t heartless.)

-

Usually, Mattie’s time travel didn’t affect her life. Sure, it made for some pretty awkward conversations as Mattie spurted some knowledge which could never have been explained through a textbook, but those could often be blamed on watching too much Horrible Histories as a child (“Mattie, I swear to God, you’re so bageling British, and yet you’ve never been there, I don’t understand.” “Horrible Histories is a masterpiece! You’re just jealous that you’re too American to have seen it.” “Actual asshole of a child.” “Farrah-!”).

It was going well until Mattie’s freshman year at Giles Corey. And then three of her fellow highschoolers were murdered. And suddenly Mattie had a way to prevent that from happening.

In some stroke of luck, she passed out at the sleepover and didn’t find out about the murders until she was sitting in the back of a cop car, driving to her house to pick up her things. She remembered thinking how weird it was that she wasn’t being taken straight to the station, but brushed that away in favour of ‘going into her wardrobe to change out of her bloody clothes’.

The time machine was cold like it always was and that forced her out of her muddled state quickly enough. She thought back to the victims. Chess. Farrah. Clark. Snapping on her goggles, she pressed a button, whirled backwards through time and space, and appeared at the gate to Riley’s neighbour’s house.

She really wished that she had actually changed her outfit - the damp blood turned cold with the breeze and sent shivers up her spine. The smell perhaps or just her sudden appearance startled the neighbour’s dogs into a frenzy. A figure, Chess, unharmed and merely confused instead of terrified, stood up from Riley’s bench, calling into the darkness. Mattie’s breath caught in her throat. The second figure, knife glinting in the dim streetlight, slipped out of the back door. Their red hair shone in the reflection of the knife with a sick kind of beauty.

Mattie could have stopped them there, taken the knife from the assailant’s grasp, prevented the tragedy of the evening. But she didn’t. She just watched.

Three minutes later, after arriving back in her present time and pressing yet another button on the wall of her closet, she watched the same scene unfold in the bathroom with a much younger victim. Twenty minutes after that, the third attack. This one was different though, an accident.

Still a little desperate and overly conscious of the police officer standing guard outside of her bedroom, she reappeared in her wardrobe, putting on a jumper before turning back time a little further. She appeared in a gymnastics centre as a girl around Mattie’s age did wolf turns on a beam. A coach entered the scene from the sidelines as the girl stopped spinning, her distinctive plait falling still against her back. Something in Mattie ached at the sight of Chess so lively and innocent, willing to give up her life for her dream of succeeding in her sport. As the two wandered into a side room, picking up water with a smile, Mattie edged forwards, collecting soft gym mats as she went. Within minutes, the area surrounding the beam had been double layered with cushioning, and Mattie could only pray that her plan would work. She’d seen enough YouTube videos to know what happened next.

Chess emerged again with her coach, hopping back up onto the beam with practiced ease. Again, Mattie was forced to just watch as she went down into her wolf turn, then rose up, did a split leap across at least half of the beam, and jumped into a twist to land on the floor. It was a messy landing, the gymnast’s ankle caving in on itself, knee twisting unnaturally in the air, before coming down hard onto her side. But, unlike in the previous videos, there wasn’t a resounding crack, only a weak cry of pain as Chess stumbled back to her feet.

Mattie grinned despite herself as snippets of conversation drifted her way.

“-not broken, don’t worry-”

“The Olympics seem out of the picture…”

“Get her a drink to numb the pain! Yes, limeade’s perfect-!”

Mattie arrived in her room again with a whole plethora of new information just inserted into her mind like it had been there all along. There was no longer and never had been a police officer outside her door. Her shirt was clean, her head undamaged. Chess didn’t go to the Olympics, but still did gymnastics in her spare time as her knee made a full and quick recovery. Farrah wasn’t dropped. Riley, in some weird twist of fate, went to the same therapist as Mattie. Life was… good for the Giles Corey Tigers.

Across town, the sleepover was still going ahead as normal. From what weird memories she just gained, Mattie knew that the team was at a rocky patch, their personalities still clashing in any iteration of the evening. But, with some relief, she knew that it would never in this timeline be bad enough for murder to even be considered as an answer. Her phone buzzed. The lies came easily as she covered up her mysterious disappearance from the sleepover she should currently be at.

Reese (school): Where are you???

Mattieeeee: I went home :( not feeling good

Reese (school): :((( that sucks

Mattieeeee: Ikr. I think it was the ice cream.

Reese (school): I told the others

Reese (school): They all say get well soon apart from Kate and Cairo who actually agreed on something for once haha

Mattieeeee: What did they say skjghdjh

Reese (school): “Tolerate the lactose, Wheeler.”

-

In her short-but-actually-quite-long-given-all-the-time-travel life, Mattie had witnessed a number of key historic events (and had caused about 85% by some small accident, but that’s a story for another time). The one which ended up unveiling her secret to someone in her actual life occurred overnight one February. Or maybe July. Depends. Time is weird.

She stepped into a small room, luckily through the doorway and not awkwardly through the window, as done many times before. A man sat hunched over a desk by the window, dressed in brown and using a pen-but-not-really-a-pen to craft a page of writing. From Mattie’s extensive historical knowledge, it could have been anywhere from 1000 BC to the 16th century.

“Hello, excuse me,” she began, “But I’m a little lost.”

The man startled, his not-really-pen skidding across the page and leaving a trail of thick ink in its wake as he blinked at her in the doorway. “Who are you?” He seemed perplexed as to how a young girl was standing there, in the opening to his room, in clothing not of any time now or before.

Something that Mattie had realised after travelling not only to different times, but also to a vast number of different settings around the world, was that somehow, she was never stumped by a language barrier. Instead she was always able to fluently converse with those she met in what appeared to her as American English. It was really weird; she tried not to think about it too much or it made her head hurt. She’d also learnt that it was best not to explain her full situation to her companions, becoming accustomed to pulling the classic ‘I’m not here, you’re just dreaming’ excuse. So that was exactly the tactic she applied here. “A dream figure. You don’t need to be afraid.”

The man narrowed his eyes, glancing down at the paper and then back up to Mattie’s face. “That’s a good line.” He scribbled her words down onto a scrap piece of papyrus. “Maybe I can use that later.”

Mattie grinned, sensing her chance to fuck up history just a little bit. “What are you writing?”

“How the world came to be,” the man explained. “God.”

“Ah, of course. The Bible, huh?”

“Pardon?” The scribe locked eyes with Mattie for the first time, confusion etched clearly on his face. She shook her head in response, having learnt that it was hopeless trying to explain events of the future to people who could never even begin to imagine the future that she came from. Seemingly satisfied, the man continued. “As the vision you are, I wonder if you’ve been sent to answer my queries.”

“Of course. Go ahead.”

“I’m struggling for a name. Not for the book itself, but just for this chapter.”

Mattie smiled as wisely as she could. “What do you have so far?”

“‘Generational Crisis’. The chapter describes how our world came to be - the creation of natural elements, the first humans, the beginnings of emotion. ‘Generational’ as it shall be carried on for generations, and ‘crisis’ as it’s a huge event, a crisis for the higher powers.”

Mattie choked. Her mind imagined a world where the entry chapter to the Bible was named as so, and it was a world of chaos and highly differing language choices. “That is very wise, sir. I have one suggestion: how about shortening it? Make it snappier, more catchy. I’m thinking…” She paused, feigning deep thought, “‘Genesis.’”

The man gasped, scrawling her word down at the top of the papyrus. “Genius! Thank you, child. I should write your name in my finished book, to show my gratitude for your kindness.”

“Mattie, sir, Mattie Wheeler. It’s been lovely to meet you and see your studies.” Over the centuries, Mattie had learnt to leave those she met with some kind of reassurance as the humane aspect of her hobby. “Before I go, I may be a dream spirit, but I can assure you that the work you have done right now shall be greatly appreciated for thousands of years to come.”

“You really are a wonder, perhaps a child sent from the power above.”

Unthinking, she snorted, replying, “Oh, boy, you are not ready to hear about Jesus.”

“Jesus? You mean my sister’s husband? I do hear some curious rumours about the man…”

Mattie hid her laugh behind a hand. Of course, this was hundreds of years before Jesus Christ came to be thought of. “I know, right? Jesus? More like JeSUS.” The scribe didn’t reply, mind clearly tired of its confusion and instead turning back to something it knew well. He picked up his writing patterns again. Mattie turned away, back to the doorway. “I will leave you to your writing again. Sleep well.” Leaving a small vial of dissolved sleeping pills on the desk, she stepped out of the door.

-

The only class that Mattie knew she would see Eva in was Religion. They didn’t actually share the class, but Mattie’s Religion teacher was Eva’s form tutor and the older girl often used the classroom as a quieter study area for her free period. Not that Mattie would call a class of thirty sophomores particularly peaceful, but apparently she hadn’t heard the noise of the senior study area, you genuinely don’t understand, last week Jacob Thomas tried to make toast using the sun on a desk and then, bam, the entire of senior year are creating chants about sun bread, it was so weird, Mattie, I transferred to a school of crackheads.

After her travel to the 7th century AD, Mattie sparked a sudden interest in her Religion classes. Eva, being the older sister that she was, watched closely as the sophomore stayed behind after class to search the Bible for something in particular.

“What’re you looking for?”

“Nothing!” Mattie didn’t look up from fervently turning the pages.

“Well, that’s a fucking lie.” Eva perched on the side of a desk, sliding across to snatch the book out of the younger girl’s hands. “Why the hell are you looking at what is essentially the movie credits for the Bible???”

Eva watched as Mattie bit her lip, eyes darting around the empty classroom. She thought for a long moment, visibly debating points in her head, before leaning over the top of the book to run her finger down a list of names. About a third of the way down the page, she stopped. Eva’s eyes followed her finger as it drew a circle around a certain name. Matte Wheyler  

“See. I was looking for that.”

Eva didn’t say anything for a while. Mattie waited with baited breath as Eva’s brain tried to make sense of what they saw. “Mattie Wheeler, what the bagel.” It didn’t bother to even be a question.

“It’s a really long story.” Mattie slumped onto the desk as well. “Hey, did you know that ‘Genesis’ would have originally been called ‘Generational Crisis’ if it wasn’t for me?”

After a glance at both of their timetables, they decided that their next lessons (biology and latin respectively) were worth missing. Instead, they stayed seated on a desk in the Religion classroom, as Mattie explained in detail how her name came to be in the Bible. It was refreshing to finally spill her secret after fifteen years of complete silence, and Mattie wondered vaguely in the back of her mind if one day Eva might be able to share in her time travelling adventures. That might take a little more explaining though, because Eva sure did have a lot of questions.

“So, you don’t change anything?”

“Not anything major. Like, I can’t stop Hitler or anything, that would change too big an event. Little things, however, like names and stuff, it’s fun to mess around with. Ever wondered why the Italian city, Pisa, has its name? I delivered pizza to the guys who were kind of like the government at the time of its naming. Hence, the Leaning Tower of Pizza.”

Eva cackled. “Wait, what?! God, dude, that’s nuts. What the fuck.”

“What can I say, all I really want in life is a little bit of chaos and also mozzarella sticks.”

-

Mattieeeee sent a photo.

evanescence: is that??? abraham lincoln????

Mattieeeee: Abraham Lincoln was an otter.

evanescence: how so?

Mattieeeee: Point one: look at him.

Mattieeeee: Point two: no seriously. Look at him.

evanescence: oh my god

evanescence: i cannot believe you have a literal selfie with abraham lincoln that’s fucking wild

Mattieeeee: Perks of the job :D

evanescence: literally hire me i want a selfie with cleopatra

-

farrah o’satanic ritual: yall i got out of the shower like an hour ago and i still haven’t changed

Imposter: What can I say, bath robes are in fashion rn

farrah o’satanic ritual: ive told you before clark stop pretending you know how to dress

Mattieeeee: Farrah did you not die in the shower?

katherine: ????mattie???????

farrah o’satanic ritual: no?? i didn’t

SmileyRiley: dang it

katherine: riLEY-

caicrow: riley i thought we’d moved on from murder

Imposter: Plot twist: Mattie was the murderer all along

katherine: CLARK-

Mattieeeee: oops-

-

It wasn't meant to happen, she swore up and down it was a mistake. A true and honest accident. And it kinda was? I mean Mattie hadn’t intended for the scaffolding on the new tower being constructed in Pisa to wobble, she’d already fucked up Pisa once in her career, but… Well, that's what she got for letting loose Giles and Corey (her occasional time travelling companions, who also happened to be cats) in the middle of a Italian city in 1252. She could have sworn the catnip was safely concealed in one of the pockets inside her jacket (which was filled with all sorts of trinkets from her travels in the space-time continuum), yet somehow the two had still gotten into it. She guessed that's what she got for not hydrating-feel-greating and eating-to-defeating.

An old citizen eyed her suspiciously, taking in her struggle with the two cats. Or maybe she was just more focused on Mattie’s goggles - she doubted anyone in 13th century Pisa had seen such a bold fashion statement before. The tower continued to lean in the background.

Finally, Giles and Corey settled down, each in a pocket of her trench coat. Mattie breathed a sigh of relief, which only got halfway out of her before she was sucking it back in as the old lady from across the street began to approach her.

“Young lady.”

Mattie smiled sheepishly. “Hello, ma’am. Is everything alright?”

The lady looked mildly amused. “I couldn’t help but notice your two cats going mysteriously close to the tower before it started collapsing. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“Oh, no, ma’am. My cats are very well behaved.” Giles gave a resounding yelp at exactly the wrong time. A hiss from Corey echoed from the opposite pocket.

“Well,” the lady grinned, “If that’s the case, why don’t you leave the animals with me? You seem fairly preoccupied with the tower - perhaps you can try and assist its reconstruction?” She held out a hand.

Mattie thought for a moment and then handed across the two cats. “Thank you ever so much, ma’am. I’ll try and be quick.” The woman nodded and Mattie sped across the square to the drastically swaying tower.

When she arrived back at the woman’s table, there was a second lady in animated conversation with her. As Mattie approached, she stood up to take her leave, pressing a kiss to the first lady’s hair as she left. Something was definitely fruity there.

“All fixed!”

“I’m glad.” The woman nudged the cats back to their owner, looking intensely over Mattie’s shoulder to the stabilised tower. “It certainly looks sturdier.”

“I should hope so.”

The woman narrowed her eyes. “Sometimes,” she said, staring pointedly at an area on the structure, “I think about crabs.”

“Oh?” Mattie tilted her head. “Do you?”

“Yes. And often when I think about crabs, I think that they shouldn’t be in Pisa, and they most definitely should not be crawling over the tower.”

Mattie gasped and followed her gaze, muttering curses under her breath. “I didn’t realise I’d brought a whole crab with me! I thought I’d taken the sea life off the rocks!”

The woman chuckled. “You seem to be a strange character. Child, where on Earth did you find not only rocks large enough to support a tower, but also a live crab in Pisa?”

Accepting her fate, Mattie decided to tell the truth. “They’re from Egypt.” At the woman’s questioning look, she expanded, “I’m a traveller of sorts.”

“Oh. Well, child, you’re a gift of a traveller. Brightened my day. Italy these days is far too serious. Maybe we should put more crabs on the leaning tower, huh?”

Tucking her cats back into their respective pockets, Mattie allowed herself to laugh. “Maybe we should.” With a nod and a smile, she wandered off, eagerly awaiting her portal.

-

“Why were you in Egypt anyway?” Eva asked as Mattie recounted yet another of her time-travel-gone-wrong experiences.

“Library of Alexandria.”

“Oh, yeah, because that explains so much.”

“Shut up.” She rolled her eyes. “It was 48 BC, Caesar was burning shit, this random Roman dude set fire to the library.” She pulled a book out of her backpack. “I saved this and stashed away a few of the slabs of rock. And apparently a crab.”

Eva took the book in awe. “Jesus Christ… This thing is, like, thousands of years old…”

“I know, right? Weird.” She watched as Eva flicked through the pages, tracing her finger over certain words or illustrations. “But it was such a beautiful library, I couldn’t let it just burn. So, I retaliated. Burnt the house of the soldier who set the original flame.”

“Mattie!”

She shrugged. “Setting someone’s house on fire is a survival skill.”

“Oh my God.”

“I would have done something more dramatic, but I had to get home. I had a cake which would need to come out of the oven.”

Eva laughed, the sound echoing around the empty classroom. They were skiving class again, this time PE, the one class they had which coincidentally fell at the same time for both year groups. “How are you so normal in school, but so badass when you time travel?”

“I dunno. All I can say is that cake and spite are my only motivators.”

“You’re like a superhero. ‘Time Travelling Mattie: The Only One Who Can Lead A Dual Life Successfully’!!!”

Mattie blushed, shrugging. She definitely needed to take Eva with her one day. A superhero duo. “Okay, that name needs some work. How about: ‘Sanchez And Wheeler, The Ultimate Time Travelling Duo’?”

“I think I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah?”

Eva nodded, shaking her hand like they were signing a business contract. “Yeah.”

[5evahbeyou]

THE BIG FOUR:AND THE MISSING GEM (BOOK 1)

Chapter 10: Team Planning

Rapunzel’s POV: 

After the dragon racing, it took a lot of effort to push Merida to do something. Perhaps it’s because of how she felt about the dragon racing, or so we thought. “I told ye guys, I can’ walk!” “Oh come on red, you’ve been cooped up in the Phoenixs’ house for a week now!” Jack said, trying to pull up Merida from the coach. “Honestly Jack, ye can’ just leave me alone for another week! I told ye, my body aches from the flyin’!” Merida said, as she roughly kicked Jack away from her causing Jack to stumble. “What did you even do to get to this state anyways?” I said, wrapping my hair at the exact location merida is pointing where it aches. “Even ya Punzie? Mor’du help me.” “Don’t push away the question red-head.” Jack said, sitting down as he twirls around his staff. I sang as my hair glows from the roots to the tip of my hair. “Like I said a few days ago, I went out after te Dragon racing.” All of us raised our eyebrows as we looked at each other before looking back at Merida. 

“ And I had uhm, caught into a problem so I had te fend me self.” So that’s news for us. what problem was it?” Hiccup asked, pushing Merida to tell us but to no avail. “It was no biggie, Kryton was with me. Das why me body aches till now.” Merida said, removing my hair from parts of her body as she tries to move slowly but surely. “Ye done this couple of times now, it ain’ workin’ I’m tellin’ ye.” Merida started, gasping as one part of her body still ached even after wrapping it with my hair. “Maybe you should see Professor Strongbear?” Hiccup asked, as we both help Merida settle down gently to the couch. Suddenly Jack came walking at us, shoving both of us out of the way. “Jack, what’s the problem?” I asked, a little shock to his sudden action. Jack scan Merida’s body, until he finally caught a glance at Merida’s neck. “Did someone bit you?” “No, but I do remember bein’ stung last time.” She said, rubbing the sore place. “We gotta get you to Strongbear ASAP. Come on Hiccup, help me carry her.” Jack said, Hiccup nodded and quickly went to Merida’s side to support her. “I knew it, If you can’t tell us something sooner, you’d be dead by now.” Jack blurted, The shock in all of our face was shown whilst I opened the door for them. Closing it as soon as they got out, I quickly went beside Jack. “What do you mean ‘dead’?” “There’s a small purplish spot on her neck. It’s not some paint nor ink, it’s one of Pitchs’ weapon.” Merida looked at Jack horrified, “Wait, so am I goin’ te die?!” “Hmm, tell me princess, are you afraid of a train coming out of your body?” Jack asked, a smirk plastered on his face. Hiccup and I looked at each other, confuse to what he was referring to.

Merida’s POV: 

“AHHHH! Bloody Roaster!” I yelled, I didn’t asked for this. I swear to Mor’du myself that I’d rather get eaten by a pack of wolf than be in this situation. “Miss. Merida, I have you know, stating a foul word won’t help you.” Professor Strongbear said, as he did what he was doing for the past 30 minutes. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” “Oh shut yer pus Jack- GAHHHH!” I gasped, tighting my hold to Jacks’ arm. “Okay ow ow ow!” Jack said, trying to remove my hand from his arm. Hiccup on the other hand, was trying so hard not to laugh while pinning down my other arm. “And done!” Professor Strongbear said, as he got the last one out. I finally removed my hold to Jack, whilst Hiccup let go of my other arm. Professor Strongbear got a plaster and put it on my neck. I got up from the bed, and looked at the plate filled with dark wiggling worms. “Wha’ in Hackit is tha’?” I said as shivers ran throughout my body. Rapunzel twirled her hair around my neck, “Come on, let’s heal it quicker.” She said, which I obliged her to do. As her golden hair glow, Professor Strongbear got them in a small jar and closed it. “These are some rare parasites you have Merida. Where on Earth did you go to be able to have 5 parasitic worms in your neck?!” “A long story Professor, but wha’ is et?” “These are curvigris. A type of worm used to paralyze people. I haven’t seen one especially it has been extinct for-” “For 5,000.” Jack stated along as Professor Strongbear nodded in agreement. “Just rest up a bit, you’ll get better in no time. The toxins from the worms will be gone soon. In the meantime, I’ll leave you guys to take care of her.” Professor Strongbear said, and left us. The three then looked at me, as if I needed much more explaining to do. “Where did you go after the dragon racing?” “Who did you or what did you find?” “Speak up or I can spank you with a pan Merida.” Rapunzel said last, looking at me as she squints her eyes to be intimidating. “Okay fine! I’ll tell ye wha’ happened that night.” I looked at them and got out something from my pockets. A small fragment of a gem that glowed vividly. “Is that--” “Yes, it’s a small piece of the gem Eve was talkin’ about. Remember what she told us about it?” Rapunzel said, picking up the small piece, as she passsed it on to the others to looked at. “Why do you have a fragment of it?” Hiccup asked, passing it back to me. “Last night after the Dragon Racing..” 

F L A S H B A C K

Nobody’s POV: 

The night was chilly, after the gangs small get together for Hiccup and Merida’s mini party. They went to their seperate ways. Merida has thought of going back to her room when a small cry was heard. She looked around to see if someone was just playing with her hearing, but it happened again, causing her to leap from the sound. She went back inside and got on Kryton. She instructed Kryton to follow the sound. They finally landed on the farthest end of the forest. Merida followed it, Kryton follow pursuit as it also analyzes it surrounding. Until finally, a small glow of an object was illuminated by the Moonlight. Merida went closer, slowly as she tries to look for any traps or possible predators just waiting to jump on her. As she finally got closer, she circled the gem, seems to be floating above. As she was about to touch it, a small evil laugh was heard from behind them. Merida twirled around to find a shadow figure, eyes glowing from the dark. “W-Who are ye?!” Merida asked, but only a laugh was heard from the figure. Merida thought of her bow and arrow, but she have forgotten about it, a stupid part of her as what she said. “It seems, you’re just what my father have said, a little fiesty.” The dark figure said, as it moves ever so slowly in to the light. The figure slowly sown apart of its face. “I said, wha’ ye want?!” Merida said, signaling Kryton to be prepared if the figure does something stupid. “I’m no one, but perhaps, you’ll know me soon enough, my love.” The figure said, disappearing but suddenly was now closer to Merida. Merida twirled around to find the figure taller than her, much more pale, and eyes whiter than it should be. “For now, this is my gift for you.” The figure said, and slowly cares Meridas’ neck and before Merida could remove the person’s hands away, a stung caused her to stumble a little. She looked at the figure, holding her neck as it stung even worst that it should be. “Wha’ did ye do!?” Merida said, her breathe getting rougher by the second. The tall figure only laughed and slowly backed away from the light to finally disappearing. Kryton helped Merida to stand up, whimpering at her Masters state. “I’ll be alright ye big beby. Ugh, just, we gotta go back.” She said, and slowly got to Kryton. 

F L A S H B A C K E N D

To Be Continued

»»————-　★　————-««            »»————-　★　————-««

Knock Knock! Yes it is I, Lord Farquaad, here to bring you the next update. Just kidding! Hey guys what is up?! It’s finally summer break and I had an inkling to update as soon as possible. I hope you guys like this chapter, it’s not much of an event but I tried, I still have a lot of things to think about especially our finals wasn’t pushed through because of the COVID happening. But no matter, I still am a reckless bad ass I am. 

Thank you guys so much for welcoming me back! I’ll have a story come up soon for the one shots *wenk wonk* If you have any request, feel free to leave a message at the tone *Stonks* What I meant is leave a message privately. Give me details for what you want. And that’s all it’s like 10:18PM here at my country. Guess I won’t be having a goodnight sleep again. 

Book 1:  CHAPTERS: 1 - 2 - 3(1) - 3(2) - 4(1) - 4(2) - 5(1) - 5(2) - 6(1) - 6(2) - 7(1) -7(2) - 8(1) - 8(2) - 9(1) - 9(2)

[the-hs-etaverse]

A Homestuck Mean Girls AU just sprang into my head fully-formed like some sort of reverse Athena.

It’s basically an AU in which the Homestuck characters act out the events of Mean Girls, but set in Alternia and roughly ten times as gay. Starring Rose Lalonde as Cady Heron, Vriska Serket as Regina George, and Terezi Pyrope as Janis Ian.

Some highlights below the cut:

Eridan: “made out wwith a hot dog”?

Eridan: oh my gog, that wwas one time!

Terezi: TH1S 1S T4VROS

Tavros: hI,

Terezi: H3S 4LMOST TOO G4Y TO FUNCT1ON

Feferi: And I don’t t) (ink my ancestor,

Feferi: T) (e inventor of the caste system,

Feferi: WOULD B--E TOO PL---EAS----ED TO ) (-------EAR ABOAT T) (IS!!!!!

Aradia: s0 if y0ure fr0m earth why are y0u white

Feferi: O) ( my GOG, Aradia, you CAN’T just ask people w) (y t) (ey’re W) (IT--E!!!!!

Rose: On October 3rd, she asked me what day it was.

Kanaya: Excuse Me What Day Is It

Rose: It’s October 3rd.

Jane: I just wish we could all get along like we used to in middle school.

Jane: I wish that I could bake a cake made out of rainbows and smiles, and we’d all eat it and be happy.

Tavros: sHE DOESN’T EVEN GO HERE,

Porrim: Do+ yo+u even go+ to+ this scho+o+l?

Jane: No, I just have a lot of feelings.

Dualscar: Do not hawve sex, because you vwill get pregnant and die.

Terezi: VR1SK4 S3RK3T

Terezi: HOW DO 1 3V3N B3G1N TO D3SCR1B3 VR1SK4 S3RK3T

Eridan: vvriska serket is flawwless

Meenah: she got two findi purses and a blue cutlass

Sollux: ii hear her haiir’2 iin2ured for ten thou2and caegar2.

Damara: I HEAR SHE DO CAR INFOMERCIAL IN ALTERNASIA

John: her favorite movie is con air.

Jade: one time she met andrew hussie on a plane and he told her she was pretty!

Nepeta: :33 < one time she purrnched me in the face

Nepeta: X33 < it was pawesome!!!

Cronus: Nice vwig, Terezi. Vwhat’s it made of?

Terezi: YOUR LUSUS’ CH3ST H41R!!

Tavros: oH MY GOG, dANNY dEvITO, i LOVE YOUR WORK,

Aradia: y0u kn0w wh0s l00king fine t0night? 

Aradia: s0llux capt0r

Vriska: Okay, you did NOT just say that.

Aradia: what? hes a g00d kisser

Vriska: He's your cousin!

Feferi: W--E S) (OULD TOTALLY JUST --EX--ECUT---E T) (--E SUFF---ER-----ER!!!!!

Rufioh: What we need... 1s an att1tude makeover...

Rufioh: 1 don’t care how long 1t takes... 1 w1ll keep you here all n1ght...

Porrim: We can't keep them past 4.

Rufioh: 1 w1ll keep you unt1l 4...

Aradia: hi this is aradia megid0 0u0

Aradia: its 68 degrees 0ut

Aradia and theres a 30 percent chance that its already raining

Mindfang: I’m not like a regular ancestor. I’m a COOL ancestor.

Tavros: hO HO HO, cANDYGRAMS,

Tavros: fOUR FOR YOU, eQUIUS zAHHAK,

Tavros: yOU GO, eQUIUS zAHHAK,

Tavros: aND NONE FOR fEFERI pEIXES, bYE,

Rufioh: Rose Lalowned?

Rose: That’s me. But my name is pronounced “Lalonde”.

Rufioh: My apolog1es... My name 1s Ruf1oh N1tram... and 1 get annoyed when people pronounce 1t “Ruf1o”... almost as mad as they get when they real1se 1t’s spelled “Ruf1oh”...

Dave: aaaaaall

Dave: yooouuu

Dave: sucka mcs aint got nothin on me

Dave: from my grades to my lines you cant touch davey

Dave: im a mathlete

Dave: so nerd is inferred

Dave: but forget what you heard im like james bond the third

Dave: sh sh shaken not stirred

Dave: im dave strider

Terezi: F3F3R1 P31X3S H4S 3V3RYON3S BUS1N3SS

Terezi: SH3 KNOWS 3V3RYTH1NG 4BOUT 3V3RYON3

Tavros: tHAT’S WHY HER HAIR’S SO BIG,

Tavros: iT’S FULL OF SECRETS,

Rose: Well... there’s this girl in my Calculus class...

Aradia: 0u0 wh0 is it

Feferi: It’s a senior?

Rose: Her name’s Kanaya Maryam.

Feferi: NO!

Aradia: n0 n0 n0

Feferi: O) ( no, you CAN’T like Kanaya Maryam! T) (at’s Vriska’s ex-matesprit!

Aradia: they went 0ut f0r a year

Feferi: Yea) (, and t) (en s) (e was D--EVASTAT-ED w) (en s) (e broke up wit) ( ) (er last perigee!

Aradia: i th0ught she dumped her f0r j0hn egbert

Feferi: IRR-EGARDL--ESS, ex-matesprits are just, OFF-LIMITS to friends! T) (at’s, like, t) (e RUL--ES of F-----EMINISM!!!

Rufioh: Coach Dualscar… step away from the underage trolls...

Cronus: Havwe you buttered your muffin?

Rose: Uh...

Cronus: Vwould you like us to assign someone to butter your muffin for you?

Roxy: wehres rose?

Dirk: She went out.

Roxy: sges GROINDDD

Dirk: Are they not allowed out when they’re grounded?

Vriska: Oh my Gog, it's her dream come true, diving into a 8ig pile of girls.

Terezi: OK4Y, Y34H, 1V3 GOT 4N 4POLOGY

Terezi: SO 1 H4V3 TH1S FR13ND WHOS 4 N3W STUD3NT TH1S Y34R

Terezi: 4ND 1 CONV1NC3D H3R TH4T 1T WOULD B3 FUN TO M3SS UP VR1SK4 S3RK3TS L1F3

Terezi: SO 1 H4D H3R PR3T3ND TO B3 FR13NDS W1TH VR1SK4 4ND TH3N SH3 WOULD COM3 OV3R MY H1V3 4ND W3 WOULD JUST L4UGH 4BOUT 4LL TH3 DUMB STUFF VR1SK4 S41D

Terezi: W3 G4V3 H3R TH3S3 C4NDY B4R TH1NGS TH4T WOULD M4K3 H3R G41N W31GHT

Terezi: 4ND W3 TURN3D H3R B3ST FR13NDS 4G41NST H3R

Terezi: 4ND TH3N, OH Y34H, ROS3, YOU KNOW MY FR13ND ROS3

Terezi: SH3 M4D3 OUT W1TH VR1SK4S M4T3SPR1T 4ND CONV1NC3D K4N4Y4 TO BR34K UP W1TH H3R

Terezi: OH GOG, 4ND W3 G4V3 H3R FOOT CR34M 1NST34D OF F4C3 W4SH

Terezi: GOG, 1 4M SO SORRY, VR1SK4

Terezi: R34LLY, 1 DONT KNOW WHY 1 D1D 1T

Terezi: 1 GU3SS 1TS PROB4BLY B3C4US3 1V3 GOT 4 B1G, *L33333333SB14N* CRUSH ON YOU!!

Terezi: SUCK ON TH4T!!

[thecollinhartman-blog]

Collin’s Coronavirus Thoughts

Corona Diaries

 I know what you are thinking. It is Day 4 of the Quarantine and Social Distancing and Collin has gone so crazy without all the busy-ness of life that he is writing a blog post. And you would be absolutely correct. Like every other millennial twenty-something, I have a lot of really great ideas that haven’t quite come to fruition. By now I thought I would be operating a volleyball facility, or traveling the US in a VW van driving for Uber, or pursuing a PhD program in England while playing volleyball, or coaching a small college team in Southern California.

All this to say I’m a big-time dreamer and a mostly incredibly poor “executer”. I often mistake my busy-ness for full-ness. I have seven unread books on my night stand, I haven’t been grocery shopping in weeks, I never got around to painting the trim in the bathroom my dad and I remodeled, my phone hasn’t been at full charge since November, and there has been an overflow of recycling sitting outside my house from the garbage disposal and mattress I got for Christmas… and now it’s March. Welcome to it, friends.

 Let’s start here: I stopped by my parents’ house this week to print something – which I often do because I have a lot of printing needs but haven’t ever purchased a printer. It’s nice because I can print some papers I need AND I can always count on cool ranch Doritos and a Mango Orange Crystal Lite…. that I’ll likely take one sip of, leave on the counter, and finish when I’m there 4 days later.

 Anyway, here I am printing in my dad’s office and running late for a meeting  (all because I napped for too long). I rush out the door of the house, accidentally leaving one document on the printer, pens and paper everywhere, and a cupboard desk drawer open. A few minutes later, my dad sends me a picture of his office, which was without a doubt entirely put together five minutes prior to me being there. The tone of his text is sarcastic but loving but semi-annoyed which I can handle. I spend six seconds feeling bad about my reckless and disorganized self until Hillsong’s Highlands comes on the radio and I turn it up. I don’t spend time reflecting on things that would make me sad, I’m a 7.

 In the midst of my frantic printing and meeting prep, my dad told me he was going to call me “F-5”as my new nickname. By the look on my face, he could tell I was confused as to why. He begins to tell me that tornados are classified in F-0 through F-5 categories, with an F-5 tornado being the wildest in nature. My quick google search defines an F-5 tornado as the most “violent damage, homes lifted off foundation and carried considerable distances, autos thrown as far as 100 meters.” I think what my dad was trying to say is that my general way of life is to rampage my way through different spaces, groups, situations… often times in an assertive, proactive, somewhat wild, chaotic way and then just… leave (I think this how I drive too). Stop go stop go stop go. I go from this thing right on to the next without pause. I show up, jump out of my car, race to wherever I’m supposed to go, be (mostly) present there until BOOM, it’s a Monday evening and I’m in the Eagle gym, shutting off all the lights, gathering volleyballs, turning on the alarm, leaving for Young Life – all in an attempt to get there three minutes before it starts so I can prep items for the game I’m leading ALLLLL before being interrupted in the parking lot by a mom of a U11 kid who is reminding me (probably for the 3rd time) about the t-shirt they ordered and are waiting on. Following? Me neither.

 In short – my life actually is like an F-5 tornado. I run run run from one thing to the next, filling my world to the brim with as much as I possibly can all until I arrive back at my house at 10:30 pm, gas light on, eat whatever I can find in the fridge before my head hits the pillow 4 minutes later, only to set my alarm and do it again.

 I’ve been living my life like this for a really long time until…. well until Sunday when we got the news that school is cancelled, which means volleyball activities are all cancelled too, and Young Life gatherings paused and suddenly my wild Monday is WIDE OPEN.

 This blog post / journal / diary is my attempt to articulate from my squirrel brain some things I’ve learned about myself in the last 48 hours since this craziness called coronavirus officially stopped my (and probably your) collective world right in their F-5 tornado tracks.

 First, let me tell you about my day today paint a picture of how my world feels just a bit (LITERALLY ENTIRELY) different…..

 1)    I didn’t set an alarm and I woke up at 8:30 am.

2)    Shortly after, I went on a quick walk to the nearest coffee shop and ordered a Misto: I am on my journey to black coffee and I just graduated from a latte to this half coffee half milk concoction (with caramel) and I feel accomplished.

3)    I stopped by my neighbor friend’s house to say hello.

4)    I got home, cleaned a couple things around the house, washed a couple plates in my sink, and went on a bike ride to downtown Boise where I enjoyed a takeout lunch from Whole Foods. I would like to tell you that I rode my bike home, but a friend happened to see me and my girlfriend (she is working remotely from Utah and visiting right now) saw us and somehow realized the journey completely uphill from downtown to my house on the bench might not be all that fun so we piled our bikes in her car and she took us home.

5)    I took a 20 minute snoozer.

6)    I got up and did some yard work outside, gathering pine needles from underneath my big backyard tree and finally broke down those big boxes that have been sitting outside my house for months and was able to fit them all inside my recycling can.

7)    It started to drizzle so I came inside, crawled under a big blanket and read the first couple chapters of Prodigal God by Timothy Keller.

8)    Kinslie and I then stopped by the store to pick up some things for dinner and I grilled some steaks and shared a giant salad and some grilled asparagus.

9)    After a few girl scout cookies (they stopped by yesterday), we watched the last half of Ellen’s Game of Games and picked a movie on Netflix.

10) Now I’m lying in my (perfectly made) bed (because I had the time to make it) writing all my thoughts down in a word document wondering if I’ll actually post this or if there is really anything of worth that I’m typing. I think there is but not sure yet.

 Well, friends of the interwebs, you might be wondering why you just read a detailed list of my day from start to finish. Here’s what I want you to know.

 1)    Upon arriving at the coffee shop, I had a cheerful silly conversation with the barista about what drink I should order as we laughed about me wanting to eventually enjoy drip coffee. We engaged in authentic dialogue for a few minutes and on the way out I thanked her for the drink recommendation.

2)    Before leaving for our bike ride, my tires were flat so we walked them to the gas station and filled up with six quarters before we went on our merry way. I empathized with the Chevron employee as we talked about coronavirus and how it might impact our lives. I wished him well and went on my way.

3)    While bikeriding downtown I noticed there are five…. FIVE… different types of massage or spa places between my house and Curtis, which is the next main stop light.

4)    At Whole Foods, I asked the clerk their favorite pasta salad as she walked over and told me all about the 2 for $6 deal. I noticed the different textures of the floor and the neatly stacked chairs and how the vegetables were perfectly arranged in their place.

5)    While doing yardwork, I stopped and looked at Kinslie as she was raking leaves into a pile. I went over and looked, I mean REALLY LOOKED into her eyes and noticed how the Irish green edges melt into a light sky-ish blue before meeting her pupil. I noticed the way she parted her wavy blonde hair and the way it fell just barely over the sweatshirt she was borrowing of mine.  I noticed how thankful I was I had someone to share this day with and even more thankful for her idea to do this yardwork that surely wouldn’t have been started for maybe forever.

6)    While reading, I noticed the way the soft sunshine pressed through my semi-open blinds onto my page and made the black ink pop off the page. I contemplated Keller’s words of Pharisees and tax collectors and a story of two sons on their journey of deeper understanding of God’s steadfast love and grace in the midst of their own struggles.

7)    While making dinner I couldn’t help but take just a little extra time to delicately cut each cucumber and carrot slice with care as I heard sounds of clattering branches from my cracked window as dusk began to settle in.

8)    And while writing this blog post, I can’t help but notice all the things I noticed in my own world for perhaps the first time.

 While I can’t be sure what life will look like in a few short days, weeks, or even months, and while I’m not positive what my income will be, and what daily routines or rituals will be impacted, or how our schools and communities will be changed – I can be sure of this: I hope in the midst of my crazy F-5 tornado life that surely will be back in busy routine before I know it – I hope for a couple things.

 I hope I can continue notice the little things. To notice the wildly interconnected, perfectly-timed, awe strikingly beautiful, crazy detailed, little details of this world like the way I noticed the lines on the fresh steaks as I pulled them off my garage sale grill.  

 I hope to breathe deep and see, I mean REALLY see the world around me, to engage in relationship in more authentic and honest ways, to stop for a moment wherever I am to truly connect with the people around me.

  I hope to take my time through a home cooked meal, and to not be so filled with anxiousness and fear of the future and unknown that I my eyes are blinded to see the way God is working in and through my (and our) world, possibly even through something like the freaking COVID-19.

 While I’m sure there will be more lessons to be learned in the next little while, I challenge you to take a couple moments to really press in and reflect upon the way this Zombie apocalyptic ish tirade is impacting your world. I truly hope in the midst of empty toilet paper shelves and hand sanitizer hoarders there is something beautiful in your world that you’ve noticed, too.

[smokeybrandreviews]

NBA Rant: Break On Through to the Other Side

I told you i’d be back on my NBA bullsh*t again and, with the official opening of the 2021 free agency, i’m definitely about to be neck deep in some bullsh*t! I got some sh*t to talk about. Now, there’s going to be a lot of moves and i can’t keep up with all of them because, frankly, i don’t care to. I love the hoop but i don't love all these teams. Like the Cavs. They’re terrible and anything they do short of signing, say, a Kevin Durant level talent, isn’t going to change that. However, there are some other, very intriguing moves made so far and i want to talk about those. Obviously, seeing as how the LAkers are MY team, that one is going probably gong to be WAY more intimate an entry so, you know, prepare for that.

Brooklyn Nets

The Nets are in a similar position to my team, the LAKers, as they are heavily front loaded on contracts. They’re not going to be able to do much but sign some vets or that cap hit is going to maim them this season. They might lose Dinwiddle because of it; A cat they absolutely need to shore up that second unit. Signs point to him inking a deal with the Wizards which does some interesting things to that team but we’ll see. They did pick up Patty Mills and James Johnson while retaining both Bruce Bowen and Blake Griffin, not that they really made a huge impact last season but who knows? A team fielding Harden, Kyrie, and Durant will always have odds to win a title so i don’t know if they sweat Big D’s loss so much. I would but i don’t think the do.

Chicago Bulls

These cats have made some real moves. I think they have enough to compete seriously in the East but not really against any of the better teams out West. They were able to pry Lonzo Ball away from the Pels which immediately upgrades the playmaking from last season, their biggest weakness, while signing Caruso as well. That one hurt. I loved Caruso but i wish kid the best. They even swung a trade with the Spurs to steal DeRozen away, adding some much welcomed scoring next to Lavine. They lost Thad Young but i think this works out well for the young team overall. A lot of people are saying these are “win now” moves but i don’t think so. This feels like savvy additions to spread the burden on Lavine and give the kid a five-star supporting cast for the future. Can't say much about the half court play but, with all these Guards, the shots are going to fly fast and that fastbreak is going to be deadly!

Los Angeles Clippers

Kawhi opted out. This is going to be a problem later. Uncle Dennis is f*cking this dude’s rep all up. People think he’s going to re-sign for the super max but why would he? The Clippers ain’t doing sh*t with the roster they have this year and every one of their rivals has gotten better. I said what i said. I’ll get to MY LA team next but the Clippers are kind of f*cking up sucking that Kawhi dick like this.

Los Angeles Lakers

Now, i hate the Westbrook move. I literally wrote an independent post about it because it’s gross. The way Vogel coaches and the way Bron plays, Rusty f*cks all that up, especially when we had Buddy Hield in our pocket. The only way this sh*t works is if they get solid f*cking shooters to spread the floor and cats that can defend to keep the other team from scoring too much while the starters are on the bench. And Palinka did just that. He went out and signed Trevor Ariza; A guy known for his three and D acumen, even if he’s lost a step or two. We also picked up Malik Monk and Wayne Ellington, who are both forty percent three point shooters, which immediately makes up for that terrible f*cking outside shooting that Rusty delivers. We secured defensive stalwart Kent Bazemore who, admittedly, isn’t a specialist but he showed flashes playing along side Draymond last season. Plus, he’ll share the floor with a returning Dwight Howard. Personally, I thought letting him walk last season was a mistake but i think, in the role he played for us during that title run, he’s a solid get. E also brought back Gasol. Here’s hoping he’s better than last season. In the process of building this squad, we lost Caruso, Montrezl, and Drummond, not to mention Kuz and KCP in the Westbrook deal. Is this squad enough to win a title? I don’t know. Palinka did a good job balancing what we need but i don’t now if it’s enough to beat a Bucks team firing on all cylinders or a hot Nets squad in seven. Oh, also, we signed Carmelo for some reason? Dude is a nice scoring punch off the bench, I guess.

Miami Heat

I like what the Heat are doing. They re-signed Butler and added some veteran firepower around him. Victor Oladipo made his way back to the other team in Florida and Kyle Lowry opted to take his talents to South Beach, too. Riley was also able to secure P.J. Tucker while keeping enough cap to resign Duncan Robinson. This is more than enough, especially under the detailed eye of Spo, to be a real force in the East. I think this squad is good enough to challenge any one out there and even give the stronger West teams a run for their money.

New Orleans Pelicans

The Pels are f*cking up, man. They look to be doing everything in their power to lose Zion. Kid has stated, publicly, he wanted Zo on the squad and what they do? Ship the cat to Chicago? Way to make your generational talent happy. Did you all not learn anything from AD? At least they sill have Ingram, i guess? If he keeps developing, then Zion might be expendable. That's dumb as f*ck and if the Pels are thinking this way, then they must have a great tailor on call because that clown suit fits perfectly.

New York Knicks

The Knickerbockers retaining Rose was an absolute necessity so kudos to them. If Randle didn’t disappear in the Playoffs, the two of them may have been able to really make some noise going forward. That said, this is different season and they need to get better. I think they did just that reloading with Nerlens Noel, Evan Fournier, Alec Burks, and Taj Gibson. I think this makes the Knicks compelling but i don’t know if it’s enough to get out of the East. Second Round exit is probably a realistic achievement for them with this level of talent. It’s a stall until they can make a run at Zion anyway.

Phoenix Suns

Paul re-signing with the Suns is a mixed bag i think. They definitely overpaid dude so if they don’t get back to the Show in the next year or two, that contract is going to look REAL bad. F*cker is going to age like milk. I don’t think they get back in a year or two. I think they just bought themselves a hundred twenty million worth of cheese. The West is too stacked and they've retooled for glory. They're going to be healthy and at full strength next season. There are just too many that are better than the Suns and, while re-signing Paul is a stroke of morale genius, those kids are stil a few years away from being a true force.

[smokeybrand]

NBA Rant: Break On Through to the Other Side

I told you i’d be back on my NBA bullsh*t again and, with the official opening of the 2021 free agency, i’m definitely about to be neck deep in some bullsh*t! I got some sh*t to talk about. Now, there’s going to be a lot of moves and i can’t keep up with all of them because, frankly, i don’t care to. I love the hoop but i don't love all these teams. Like the Cavs. They’re terrible and anything they do short of signing, say, a Kevin Durant level talent, isn’t going to change that. However, there are some other, very intriguing moves made so far and i want to talk about those. Obviously, seeing as how the LAkers are MY team, that one is going probably gong to be WAY more intimate an entry so, you know, prepare for that.

Brooklyn Nets

The Nets are in a similar position to my team, the LAKers, as they are heavily front loaded on contracts. They’re not going to be able to do much but sign some vets or that cap hit is going to maim them this season. They might lose Dinwiddle because of it; A cat they absolutely need to shore up that second unit. Signs point to him inking a deal with the Wizards which does some interesting things to that team but we’ll see. They did pick up Patty Mills and James Johnson while retaining both Bruce Bowen and Blake Griffin, not that they really made a huge impact last season but who knows? A team fielding Harden, Kyrie, and Durant will always have odds to win a title so i don’t know if they sweat Big D’s loss so much. I would but i don’t think the do.

Chicago Bulls

These cats have made some real moves. I think they have enough to compete seriously in the East but not really against any of the better teams out West. They were able to pry Lonzo Ball away from the Pels which immediately upgrades the playmaking from last season, their biggest weakness, while signing Caruso as well. That one hurt. I loved Caruso but i wish kid the best. They even swung a trade with the Spurs to steal DeRozen away, adding some much welcomed scoring next to Lavine. They lost Thad Young but i think this works out well for the young team overall. A lot of people are saying these are “win now” moves but i don’t think so. This feels like savvy additions to spread the burden on Lavine and give the kid a five-star supporting cast for the future. Can't say much about the half court play but, with all these Guards, the shots are going to fly fast and that fastbreak is going to be deadly!

Los Angeles Clippers

Kawhi opted out. This is going to be a problem later. Uncle Dennis is f*cking this dude’s rep all up. People think he’s going to re-sign for the super max but why would he? The Clippers ain’t doing sh*t with the roster they have this year and every one of their rivals has gotten better. I said what i said. I’ll get to MY LA team next but the Clippers are kind of f*cking up sucking that Kawhi dick like this.

Los Angeles Lakers

Now, i hate the Westbrook move. I literally wrote an independent post about it because it’s gross. The way Vogel coaches and the way Bron plays, Rusty f*cks all that up, especially when we had Buddy Hield in our pocket. The only way this sh*t works is if they get solid f*cking shooters to spread the floor and cats that can defend to keep the other team from scoring too much while the starters are on the bench. And Palinka did just that. He went out and signed Trevor Ariza; A guy known for his three and D acumen, even if he’s lost a step or two. We also picked up Malik Monk and Wayne Ellington, who are both forty percent three point shooters, which immediately makes up for that terrible f*cking outside shooting that Rusty delivers. We secured defensive stalwart Kent Bazemore who, admittedly, isn’t a specialist but he showed flashes playing along side Draymond last season. Plus, he’ll share the floor with a returning Dwight Howard. Personally, I thought letting him walk last season was a mistake but i think, in the role he played for us during that title run, he’s a solid get. E also brought back Gasol. Here’s hoping he’s better than last season. In the process of building this squad, we lost Caruso, Montrezl, and Drummond, not to mention Kuz and KCP in the Westbrook deal. Is this squad enough to win a title? I don’t know. Palinka did a good job balancing what we need but i don’t now if it’s enough to beat a Bucks team firing on all cylinders or a hot Nets squad in seven. Oh, also, we signed Carmelo for some reason? Dude is a nice scoring punch off the bench, I guess.

Miami Heat

I like what the Heat are doing. They re-signed Butler and added some veteran firepower around him. Victor Oladipo made his way back to the other team in Florida and Kyle Lowry opted to take his talents to South Beach, too. Riley was also able to secure P.J. Tucker while keeping enough cap to resign Duncan Robinson. This is more than enough, especially under the detailed eye of Spo, to be a real force in the East. I think this squad is good enough to challenge any one out there and even give the stronger West teams a run for their money.

New Orleans Pelicans

The Pels are f*cking up, man. They look to be doing everything in their power to lose Zion. Kid has stated, publicly, he wanted Zo on the squad and what they do? Ship the cat to Chicago? Way to make your generational talent happy. Did you all not learn anything from AD? At least they sill have Ingram, i guess? If he keeps developing, then Zion might be expendable. That's dumb as f*ck and if the Pels are thinking this way, then they must have a great tailor on call because that clown suit fits perfectly.

New York Knicks

The Knickerbockers retaining Rose was an absolute necessity so kudos to them. If Randle didn’t disappear in the Playoffs, the two of them may have been able to really make some noise going forward. That said, this is different season and they need to get better. I think they did just that reloading with Nerlens Noel, Evan Fournier, Alec Burks, and Taj Gibson. I think this makes the Knicks compelling but i don’t know if it’s enough to get out of the East. Second Round exit is probably a realistic achievement for them with this level of talent. It’s a stall until they can make a run at Zion anyway.

Phoenix Suns

Paul re-signing with the Suns is a mixed bag i think. They definitely overpaid dude so if they don’t get back to the Show in the next year or two, that contract is going to look REAL bad. F*cker is going to age like milk. I don’t think they get back in a year or two. I think they just bought themselves a hundred twenty million worth of cheese. The West is too stacked and they've retooled for glory. They're going to be healthy and at full strength next season. There are just too many that are better than the Suns and, while re-signing Paul is a stroke of morale genius, those kids are still a few years away from being a true force.

[princessofthedarkrealm]

Stroke of Midnight- Chapter 7 (Pennywise x reader)

(((contains mild smut)))

Riiing! Riiing!

You groaned and rolled over on your stomach.

Riiing!

Your head snapped up. It was full daylight. On a Monday. You jumped out of bed naked to answer the phone and cried out when you stubbed your toe on the foot of the bed. Pennywise was asleep, laying on his back. One arm was hanging over the side and his mouth was hanging open, his chin covered in drool. You hobbled over to the phone and grabbed it on the sixth ring.

"Hello."

"Y/N?" It was Mrs. Stout.

You put your hand on your forehead and sank to the floor. Your little toe was throbbing. "Mrs. Stout, I am so sorry."

"And why aren't you at work, missy?" Mrs. Stout replied tartly.

"I forgot to call you yesterday. I was in an accident."

"An accident? Good gracious."

"Oh I'm ok," you said quickly. "It was a bike accident. I just got kind of banged up." In more ways than one, you thought.

"Well stay home and get some rest. No need to overexert yourself. You should be back tomorrow, right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

You said your goodbyes and hung up the phone, then crossed your legs and let yourself droop. You heard Pennywise get out of bed.

"I stubbed my toe, Penny." You sighed. "One of the few parts of my body that doesn't hurt right now."

Pennywise patted you on the head. "My poor clumsy kitten," he said in a mocking tone.

"It wasn't clumsiness that made me fall into the ravine," you said hotly.

Pennywise made some whining noises. He crouched down behind you. "You're awfully grumpy this morning," he said.

"I ache everywhere," you replied.

"And what do humans like to do to help their pain?" he asked.

You thought for a minute. "I know a good hot shower usually helps. Or a bath."

Pennywise giggled and his face lit up. He put his face right next to your ear. "Why don't you take a bath, kitten?" he whispered in a sultry tone. "Or I can give you one."

You tucked some hair behind your ear and glanced at Pennywise skeptically. "You want to give me a bath?"

He giggled again. "Why not?"

You started thinking of the mess he would make. He would have water everywhere.

"But you would get all wet," you pointed out.

His hands snaked under your arms from behind and he placed them on your bare breasts. "You did not complain last night, my dear."

"Yeah but that was just a couple of your fing-  whoa!" you exclaimed as he hoisted you to your feet.

“Get yourself going. I want to make you nice and wet.” Pennywise gave you a gentle push forward than slapped you on the ass causing you to jump. You blushed.

“This is going to be interesting,” you mumbled as you walked down the hallway. You didn’t even bother to put a robe on. You still felt awkward about Pennywise seeing you naked, and even though you hadn’t actually had sex, he had still been intimate with your body in a way that no one else ever had. You put your bath water running, then went to the kitchen to get some pain medicine. The curtains over the sink were open, so you quickly closed them. You fixed a glass of water, then took some pain meds. You rolled your shoulder, which was starting to feel stiff. What you really needed was to massage it.

You went back to the bathroom and stopped short when you got in the doorway. Pennywise was sitting on the toilet with the lid down. He had one arm bent with his elbow resting on his leg and his chin on his knuckles. He was like a satirical version of the Thinker. Your face lit up in a grin.

He glanced over at you and stood. You walked into the bathroom and he met you in the middle of the room. His eyes roved up and down your body. You worried your lip as you started feeling self-conscious. Suddenly the room started feeling very warm.

Pennywise’s hand came up to touch your hair. He lifted a piece of it. “One day I will undress you from head to toe,” he said.

You smiled bashfully and lowered your gaze. “Maybe so.”

He gestured towards the tub. Steam was rising from the water. You turned off the faucet and bent to feel the water. It was hot, but not unbearably. You took the Band-Aid off of your leg. The cut had almost completely healed itself. You sighed as you climbed in the tub. “Hmm this feels so good.” You sloshed the water over your legs.

“I like to wash my hair first.” You got the cup and started rinsing your hair. Pennywise lifted a piece of it.

“It would look so lovely floating around you.” His voice was almost a growl.

You paused and slowly glanced at him.  His yellow eyes stared right at your face and his lips were pursed. You found it a bit unsettling. “F-floating? You mean like… in a pool?”

His visage changed to a more happy one. He giggled. “Of course in a pool,” he said in a giddy voice.

You kept rinsing. “There is a public pool here. I actually enjoy swimming.”

Pennywise nodded. “Well then we’ll go there.”

You laughed. “Pennywise, we would have to go at night. And it’s closed at night.”

He put his hand on your knee. “If you want to swim, we will swim.”

You sighed. You wanted so badly to be able to bring him out in public. How could you get him to understand that that just was not possible? “We’ll see.”

You finished rinsing your hair and started lathering it. Pennywise started bouncing, his mouth in a grin.

He giggled. “I wanna do it.”

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. “Um…okay.”

You turned sideways in the tub with your back to him. Pennywise took off his gloves and placed them on the toilet lid. He continued lathering your hair.

“So, tell me about your life,” he said.

You told him about how you worked at the library. You told him about your cousins and about Henry Bowers and his gang of goons. “They’re constantly terrorizing my cousin and his friends,” you said.

Your head bobbed around as Pennywise lathered it. You winced every time he touched the tender spot in the back.

“Henry and Patrick are the two worse though.”

“Hmm,” was all Pennywise said.

“Yesterday, they had some poor kid cornered on Lovers’ Bridge. Henry had his knife out. I could hear the poor kid hollering. God only knows what Henry was doing to him.”

When Pennywise was finished, you turned back straight in the tub, rinsed your hair out, and started soaping a rag. You washed your face first, then your back. Pennywise started rubbing your back. You continued soaping yourself. He placed his hand over yours and leaned into you.

"Le-t me."

He grabbed the rag from you and crouched down. He started with your stomach, dragging the rag slowly across your abdomen. He then ran it along your breasts, giving special focus to each one. You closed your eyes and leaned back.

Pennywise roughly planted his lips on yours. You returned the kiss with fervor. You felt him drag the rag back down, way down until he reached your pussy. He gently rubbed back and forth, delving into your slick folds. You moaned against his lips. Pennywise pushed the rag aside and brought his hand back to your clit. He started stroking it, faster this time.

You leaned back farther, his other hand on your back, supporting you. He brought his lips down to your chin, then your collarbone. Leaving a trail of kisses as he rubbed you frantically. Water splashed in the tub.

"Oh, Penny," you moaned.

His mouth latched onto your breast and you threw your head back as he suckled on you. The feeling of the water lapping at your thighs just added to your arousal.

It didn't take long for you to reach your peak, and when you did, you cried out, moaning and gasping. When your orgasm subsided, he removed his hand. The cuff of his sleeve was dripping wet.

Pennywise’s mischievous grin returned. "Such a good girl. Don’t take too long, kit-ten.” He kissed the tip of your nose and left the bathroom.

Your heart was pounding as you laid back limply in the bathtub. What in the hell had you gotten yourself into?

***********

You decided to wrap yourself in a towel to walk to your room. Pennywise was looking at your drawing portfolio.

“Oh good. I had been wanting to show those to you,” you commented.

“My little princess draws well,” he said.

“Well I wouldn’t really say that,” you said as you scampered about your room searching for fresh clothes. You decided on a pale peach shirt and navy cotton shorts.

“What is this one about?” Pennywise asked.

You went to see the drawing that he was holding out to you, your towel still wrapped around you. It was a pencil color and ink drawing of a man and a woman reaching out to each other. The man was wearing yellow and white robes and his hair was made of flames. The sun was behind him to his left. The woman was wearing a long flowing black dress etched in silver. Her raven black hair streamed out behind her. The moon was behind her to the right.

“That’s the sun and the moon,” you stated. “They fell in love, but they can’t be together.”

Pennywise frowned. “Why not?”

“Well… because he represents light and she represents dark. Neither can exist in the sky at the same time. It’s a mythological story about why we have day and night.”

Pennywise tilted his head to the side. “And in your play, do you find someone that you can be with?”

You nodded. “Of course. After her step sisters attack her, they leave for the ball. Cinderella’s fairy godmother shows up and turns her torn dress into a beautiful gown. Then she turns a pumpkin into a coach to take Cinderella to the ball.” You explained to him the rest of the story of Cinderella.

“So her and her prince get to be together?”

“Yes.”

“Because of her fairy godmother’s magic?”

“Hmm… yeah I guess so. I don’t think Cinderella would have been able to meet him without it.”

Pennywise stepped closer to you. “Do you want me to go to your play?”

You didn’t know what to say. “Well, I would like you to. I don’t know how that would be possible though.”

He leaned forward and grabbed your shoulders. “If I could go, would you want me to?”

You didn’t say anything at first. But finally you decided. “Yes.”

Pennywise giggled. He clapped his hands. “Then your wish shall be granted, princess.”

You gave Pennywise a tiny smile, but you sighed inwardly. There is no way this is going to work, you thought. You leaned against his firm chest. “I do wish that. More than anything.”

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