#i really hope you are ready for next week

[awrkive]

tlp jk is def the type to absolutely sob when he sees oc walk down the aisle/when he’s trying to propose to her and it maybe just me but I feel like after that one year anniversary he’s like I’m wifing this girl DOWNN cause I feel like he lich has the ring and everyth ready to go he’s waiting he’s prepped 😭

here it is!!! #thee proposal drabble this is literally the cutest thing ever i wish love was real 😖🥹 hope u enj!!!!!!!!!!

summary: in which jungkook proposes and it doesn't start off well

w/c: 3.7k

warning/s: tlp couple is extremely in love that is a warning. they're also cry babies. listen to something by the beatles for the major feels 😔

“Baby,” Jungkook sighs, matching your pace. “Are we really fighting right now?” 

“No.” Is your stern response, continuing your quick steps without even bothering to look back at him. 

“I guess we are fighting right now.” Jungkook mumbles to himself, taking two big strides so he can finally catch up with you. 

You don’t pay him any attention when he slides his arm around your waist while the other holds the bag of large popcorn you bought a while ago, leaning down to kiss the side of your head. Jungkook doesn’t even care about the people passing by around the cinema; they have lives to care about on their own – he can kiss his girlfriend wherever and whenever he wants. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispers in your hair, enough for only you to hear. 

There’s a crease on your forehead that hasn’t ceased ever since you left the restaurant you had your dinner at. But after a few beats, you let out a sigh. 

“I just really wanted to see the movie in IMAX.” you lament, and Jungkook feels bad. He really does. 

“I know, baby, I really am sorry,” he apologizes once again. “We can see it tomorro—” but he realizes you both have a full-time shift, so he opts for, “–next week?” 

“Jungkook, the screening ends in the next two days.” you say, tone bordering on annoyed now. You reel it back in, gently saying, “I just– I told you to hurry up earlier, but you kept on changing your hair even though– you know what, forget about it. Which cinema were we in, again?” 

Jungkook’s nerves begin to kick in, because you look like you’re genuinely upset now. He can tell it by the tone of your voice, the disappointment and the simmering irritation of having to deal with the situation. You don’t get angry often – no scratch that, you don’t get angry at all. However, it does come in withdrawal-like gestures and behavior – like now. 

And again, Jungkook really does feel bad for having to do what he did earlier. You weren’t able to purchase tickets online so you had to make do with buying on the actual booth – and because Jungkook took way too long in the comfort room of the restaurant fixing his hair, you arrived at the cinema way too late and the tickets for the last IMAX screening of the night ran out. It left you with no choice but to go with the regular one instead, and needless to say, you’re not at all that happy about that. 

Well, shit. Jungkook thinks. This date is not going well at all. The waitress at the restaurant you ate at a while ago openly flirted with him on your table and he was too stunned to do something that you had to tell her off by yourself. That had obviously taken a hit on your mood, and the cinema thing just kind of maybe amplified it and Jungkook thinks he’s beginning to get fucked.

“I’ll make up it up to you, baby–” 

“The tickets, Jungkook.” 

Jungkook purses his lips into a thin line and gives them to you.

You walk alongside each other quietly, but Jungkook doesn’t let go of your waist while you head towards the dark and quiet hallway, leading to the seats. You don’t pry his hand off so maybe – maybe – that’s a good thing. 

But god, this night isn’t going well like he wanted it to be. Suddenly, he’s nervous again. More nervous that he was in the shower awhile ago when you were still prepping for the date back at home. He’s anxious about fucking the whole thing up, and sure, he could trust his track record of never fucking up when it comes to doing big things in his life, but this is different. This will be different. And he’s just so fucking scared that he checks on his watch again. 

8:22pm. 

Eight minutes before the movie starts in your cinema. And eight minutes more before the–

“Jungkook,” You call him, and he’s just in the middle of pushing the seat down for you when you do so. He looks at you. Confused, you ask, “Do you have somewhere to go?” 

“Huh?”

“You keep on looking at your watch. You have been since we were at the restaurant.” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen and he’s thankful there’s barely any lights in the hall.

“I– no. No.” He shakes his head, placing down the bag of popcorn in the middle and takes your hand instead, interlocking your fingers. “I’m sorry, did I keep doing that?” He asks consciously.

He’s really fucking this up, and you’re noticing it. 

“Yes, it’s bothering me a little,” You shuffle in your seat a little, facing Jungkook. Softly, you ask, “Do you wanna go home? We can ditch the movie. I’m sorry for being a dickhead the whole night. It’s not an excuse but I really wanted to watch this movie in IMAX… but it’s fine. I’m not mad at you. I’m just in a… mood. And I know I’m taking it out on you. I’m sorry. I’m being so unappreciative over here – I know you were supposed to work on your research–”

“Hey,” Jungkook stops you before you can even finish that. “No, baby. This is our date. I don’t wanna go home yet and I’m genuinely really sorry for missing the IMAX screening.” He’d add he didn’t mean to take long in the comfort room earlier… but that would be a lie. He intended to do that so you can both arrive here on time like planned. 

You purse your lips into a thin line. “Still… I’m sorry for being a little bitch.” 

“Not true. You’re an angel.” Jungkook says and brings your interlocked hands up to kiss your knuckles. “Love you.” 

You frown. “Love you too.” 

That earns you a hearty chuckle from him. “I love you more.” 

“Not that again.” You sigh, turning sideways to look ahead on the screen but not breaking away from his hold. 

Jungkook contains his smile as his gaze falls to the big screen as well, nerves crumbling down a little at the exchange. You’re the only person who can make him nervous but the only one who can take it away at the same time. 

“Huh,” you utter suddenly in the middle of some trailer playing. “It’s so weird there’s only a few people here.”

At that, Jungkook’s heart rate picks up a bit. “Y-yeah? Well, it’s late at night.” 

“Fair.” 

“And this movie’s not really new, right? Just an anniversary screening thing.” Jungkook continues to add, as if determined to justify your claim. 

You nod. “I guess you’re right.” 

“Yep.” 

His phone lights up and you’re busy sipping on your drink so Jungkook takes that as an opportunity to check the messages he received.

tae [8:28pm]: starting in 2

tae [8:28pm]: good luck buddy

Jungkook swipes his tongue over his lips – a nervous habit – quickly turning it off and pocketing the device. He places his arm on the arm rest and taps his fingers on the plastic surface anxiously. 

It feels like there’s a ticking clock above his head when the trailer finally ends, because he knows the thing should start rolling. 

And Jungkook swears he’s prepared for this for so many weeks. Months for the matter. It’s now May and the ring has been bought since February. What was once tucked away from the depths of his closet is now snugged in the pockets of his trouser, deep enough that you couldn’t pinpoint the bulging outline of the box.

Jungkook originally planned for you both to be out of the country when he does it. But things got really hectic at the hospital and while he personally could’ve still taken a leave, you couldn’t. Jungkook brought up the idea of vacationing a little, “Just for a week,”, he said, but then you sadly told him that you couldn’t even if you wanted to and he understood that greatly. He’s in the same line of work, after all. 

So, with what seemed to be the nth deliberation with Doyeon, Taehyung, and Nayeon, he ultimately decided on this set-up. You know; trick you into going to the mall with him so you can pass by the cinema and he successfully executes the proposal seamlessly. But obviously, it didn’t go as smoothly as that.

After your dinner, you impulsively decided that you wanted to watch a movie in IMAX, but it starts at exactly as Jungkook’s proposal, and so he had to compromise a little bit; the admittedly poor (but effective) solution coming in the form of intentionally staying a little longer in the comfort room of the restaurant just so you two would be lat. 

And Jungkook swears it’s for a good reason! Because everything’s prepped and ready to roll and he can’t have himself waste another perfect opportunity. He remembers almost popping the question three months ago, two months ago, month ago, few weeks ago and heck, even last night – but he’d always get cold feet and think the time wasn’t right. 

Right now, though, is different. 

And he wants it so badly to be different.

Good thing you settled things quickly. Now that his being late is past you, he can be a little more confident in what he’s about to do. 

The next trailer shows up and Jungkook sits upright, knowing what’s coming. He has it memorized, down to each frame. He was the one who edited it, after all, a product of his humble multimedia skills, that is. Jungkook could’ve gone to a professional but he really wanted to do it himself, scared they wouldn’t be able to tell you what he wanted to. And so he did. The gang also told him that it would be better if he did it himself.

And now he’s showing it to you – you, who’s completely clueless beside him. 

It starts as a bit of a misdirect. There’s an intro from a famous movie studio, and a scene from a real movie – and so of course you don’t suspect anything, as Jungkook could say from his peripheral view.

Suddenly, the screen goes black. It causes a pregnant pause, stretched to exactly five seconds (again, Jungkook edited that), and then, a familiar clip suddenly plays. 

It’s a video of you taken from Jungkook’s camcorder back in med school. First year, around the second semester. You were at Moon’s Printing Shop and you were looking down at your notes when Jungkook, behind the camera, called your name. 

You looked up, hair messy from an all-nighter study but Jungkook’s certain the Jungkook behind the scene was still thinking you were the prettiest girl he’s ever seen just like he’s thinking now. 

“Who would you wanna be if you were given the chance to be somebody else in your next life?” 

You grimace. “Hopefully, still me.” 

“So boring,” Jungkook exaggerated, his laughter reverberating in the hall of the theater. “Be serious.” 

You looked flustered in the video. “I’m serious. I don’t wanna be somebody else.” 

In his seat, Jungkook feels the real you sitting beside him tugging at your enclosed hands together, so he looks at you. 

“Jungkook, what is this?” You say, evidently unaware of what’s currently happening, your brows furrowed in that cute confusion. 

“Just something I’ve been working on for the past three months.” he smiles, bringing your hands together to his lips again. He just couldn’t stop kissing and touching you even if he tries.

You stare at him with your mouth agape, but you don’t say anything else, your gaze falling back to the screen once again. 

“Okay, since you don’t wanna play this game I wanna be Darth Vader.” Jungkook said in the video. 

“What? The evil guy from Star Wars?” You frowned. “That’s not… hmm… okay. I guess I wanna be… Spongebob, then.” 

“Oh. Wow. Interesting. Alright, Darth Vader’s out. I wanna be Patrick instead.” 

“I like that. So we’ll still be bestfriends, right?” 

“Yeah. And I still get to stress you out even in the next life.” 

That made you laugh, the warm burst of laughter filling the hall which makes Jungkook’s lips curl up as he watches the screen. He can never get tired of it; your smile, your laugh, your face as it lights up. There’s something so incredibly angelic about you he sometimes thinks you’re not human at all. Or maybe just part-human… nonetheless, he feels grateful. For literally everything. 

Something in the way she moves…

The video transitions to another reel of you taken by Jungkook while The Beatles’ Something plays in the background. 

"Oh my god..." Jungkook hears you gasp beside him, but he doesn't allow himself to break just yet. Instead, he tightens his grip on your hand, feeling your response as you hold on just as firmly.

The screen continues to show candid moments of you from med school. All recorded and taken by Jungkook; the trips you took during that time, that rave party you went to where you got extremely drunk – and when that showed up, you giggled beside him and said, “I told you to delete that.”, which he just laughed at. 

Later on, the clips got more recent, you in your lilac dress and Jungkook’s white tux… it was a video of you dancing in Nayeon’s wedding. 

“W-wha–… I didn’t – who took that?” You whisper, sounding in awe. 

“Nayeon was apparently recording from the stage at that time.” Jungkook says, looking at you and smiling when he sees that you have your eyes glued to the screen. 

“This is so…” you trail off, but you don’t really say anything in continuation. 

Recent videos of you play, capturing moments from the two years you’ve been together. There’s that clip in Vienna, a few in Florence, Paris, Melbourne... It’s surreal to think that he captured those memories, never imagining they’d be used for something like this. 

Something in the way she knows

And all I have to do is think of her

Something in the things she shows me

I don't want to leave her now

You know I believe and how

The song fades to an end and so did the compilation of your videos. The screen shows Jungkook this time instead. He leaned towards the camera, checked the optics, and then smiled a little. From the background, you know it was taken by the wall of his room, near the window because you can see the Sanrio plushie you put on the table beside there. It’s a little out of frame but you can still recognize it. 

Then, he spoke. 

“Uhm, hi,” He started, and you hold your breath, feeling like you’re on the edge of your seat but not in that anxious way. “I don’t really know where I’m going with this. I’m thinking of doing this video… for my proposal – and ah, my proposal – wait, I really should’ve written a script for this but I wanted this to be natural as much as possible and I’m going off-track so we’ll move on to what I really wanna say,” 

You can’t help but laugh at that, and you hear Jungkook joining in with you. 

“__, you’re the love of my life. You’re my lover, but you’re my best friend most of all. I look back on the times we’ve spent together – a decade. There was no time in those years that I didn’t thank my lucky stars for knowing and meeting you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I really hope you know how much I love you because no matter how hard I try to put it into action and words, no amount of it would tell you how I truly feel.” A pause. Then he took out something from his pocket. Raising his hand, a red velvet box appeared in the frame. He was about to open it when suddenly, your voice is heard behind the camera. 

“Jungkook?” 

Jungkook quickly pocketed the box, and the camera shook a little, the angle now distorted, probably due to his panic upon hearing your voice. 

“Yes, baby?” The audio played. 

“You were doing something?” 

“Nah. Just trying out my new camera.” Jungkook said. 

“Oh. Lemme see.” 

The camera got picked up, and Jungkook switched the camera to you.

In your seat, you nibble on your bottom lip upon seeing your own face this time, a poor attempt to stop your jaw from breaking apart because you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling watching the whole thing. 

“Pretty girl.” You hear Jungkook say behind the recorder. His hand came up to caress your face in the video, thumb rubbing over your cheek. “I love you.” 

You looked confused at first but then you told him, anyway, “I love you too.” 

You leaned down, and the video gets switched out to another one of Jungkook on a different day. 

“Sorry the video got interrupted by my gorgeous girlfriend.”

You both laugh at that, and as if on cue, your eyes meet – silently acknowledging that you’re thinking the same thing. In that shared glance, it's clear you both understand how things escalated in that moment, that night – how that kiss turned into something more.

“I just wanted to say that, uh, I love her. No, you, I’m talking to you–” He sighed in the clip, and you can’t help but chuckle. “Anyway. I love you. I love you so much, baby. More than anything else in the world. I feel like I don’t say it enough although Taehyung teases me about convulsing if I can’t say it to you for no longer than five minutes – he’s probably right but that’s not the point. What I wanna say is – again – is that, I love you, __. And I want to spend the rest of my lifetime with you. I wanna grow old with you. Spend every day and every night with you. I want us to wake up together every morning, make our breakfast together, go to work together, do laundry together, our taxes – man, I don’t know. Anything. I just want to do anything and everything with you. Maybe adopt a dog in the near future, if you want to, that is. You’re probably gonna be watching this in the theater by this moment – god I hope I don’t fuck the whole thing up, the gang is gonna be so pissed – but I’ll drop the question for you and I know we already talked about it many times before and two months ago you said you were ready if I was also ready. I couldn’t tell you I’ve been ready since the first week we started dating. But I hope… what you felt two months ago is still what you feel right now…” 

Then, the big screen fades to black, and suddenly, a few lights in the hall flicker on, illuminating Jungkook—now on his knees. In his hand is a red velvet box, now open, revealing a stunning ring that’s so beautiful it leaves your jaw slack.

He clears his throat. “__, you’re my best friend. Have been and always will be. You’re my home, my partner. I will love you for as long as you let me and–” Jungkook doesn’t mean it but there’s suddenly a lump in his throat that forms along the way and he has to choke it back, making his voice crack a little bit as he looks into your eyes. “– and I really want to live all my remaining years with you and be yours forever.” He bites his lip, looks up at you with those doe eyes you love so much. Then, the question comes, “Can I be your husband?” 

“Jungkook…” You look down at him, your mouth opening and closing, lost for words. You’ve passed the point of holding back tears, and when your eyes meet his—so full of sincerity and revere—you completely break. “Y-yes. Yes! One hundred percent yes,” you manage to say through your sobs, nodding fervently as your vision blurs from the tears streaming down your face.

As soon as you say that, all the lights in the room turn on and there’s a holler from the direction of the projection room that you can’t help but look at. 

“Congrats!” 

You gasp as you see Doyeon and Nayeon. They’re both waving at you with huge grins on their faces. Genuinely surprised and confused at the same time, you start to look around, and suddenly, you realize that everybody is literally… your family. Taehyung, your dad, your mom, your sister and Seokjin all occupy the front rows, and in front of them are Jungkook’s own family as well. From afar, you see Jungkook’s father coming up to give your dad a hug which he reciprocates as they laugh together. 

Your eyes are drawn back to Jungkook. 

“Jungkook… they’re all here,” you say, struggling to hold back the onslaught of tears. They won’t stop.

And at this point, Jungkook can’t help it. Not anymore. He sees you crying and he can’t help but do it as well. He sniffs, taking your hand and kissing the back of your palm.

“Yes, baby. Everybody is here.”

“Baby, why are you crying?” You ask him despite yourself.

Jungkook chuckles in between his tears, swiping a hand on his eyes. “I’m just so happy. You make me so happy. Thank you. Thank you for saying yes.”

That makes you cry even more, earning another laugh from Jungkook but it’s filled with endearment. Slowly, he takes your hand and you watch teary-eyed as he finally inserts the ring around your ring finger. 

The diamond-encrusted band, with a larger diamond glimmering in the center, fits perfectly around your finger. You stare at it in awe, admiring how gorgeous it looks—trying to recall a time when Jungkook measured your finger to make it fit so flawlessly. But you can't remember, and you don't mind at all, instead looking up at him as he stands to his feet.

"I love you, Jungkook. I really do," you say with all the sincerity in your heart, hoping he knows as much.

"I can't wait to marry you," he replies, his voice full of emotion before he pulls you into his arms and leans down to kiss you gently on the lips. It’s soft and it’s sweet just like the love he’s given you all these years.

A cheer erupts around you, and normally, you'd feel shy about kissing in front of your family. But this time, you don’t feel embarrassed at all.

It’s just you and Jungkook. Bound for a lifetime of unadulterated love.

[covenofagatha]

Saw you're taking requests and decided to toss one your way!

Agatha x reader, reader has had a really tough day and Agatha helps put her into subspace to relax. Some soft!dom Agatha with a splash of praise, degradation, mommy and maybe some size kink? And of course some fluffy aftercare after reader has been thoroughly fucked out of her mind❤

Hope you enjoy! (Disclaimer: I've never written subspace before so hopefully I did it justice, along with everything else you wanted)

Bad day

When Agatha comes home to find that you had a bad day, she takes it upon herself to make you feel better

Word count: 2600

Warnings: praise kink, degradation kink, subspace, size kink, mommy kink, oral, strap-on, aftercare, smut, and fluff (I may have missed one)

You’re on your last nerve when you get to your afternoon class on Wednesday. 

Your car didn’t start in the morning so your girlfriend, Agatha, had to drop you off at work, which you’d never complain about, except she had still been asleep when this happened so you were almost late because she had to get ready. 

And then work was awful. You had a shift at the popular retail store in town and it seemed like every customer who came in was on a mission to personally ruin your day. 

From dissatisfaction with the prices to vomit all over the restroom floor, it seemed like nothing could go right. 

Agatha had been at work herself so you had to call one of your college friends to give you a ride after. 

And now you had to sit in a class on Personality Theory for the next three hours and listen to your professor drone off on tangents. You would be getting your tests back from last week though, and you were hoping you had done well. 

“Alright, before we get started, I’ll go ahead and pass out your exams. Once I call your name, you can come up and look at it,” your professor says and you anxiously tap your fingers on the desk while you wait for your turn. 

Finally, he says your name. Butterflies in your stomach, you walk to the front to look and it’s like you’ve been punched in the gut. 

There must be something wrong, you don’t understand how you missed this many. 

Red ink stains the page and you have to clench your jaw together to keep your composure. Tears prick at your eyes as you hand the exam back to your professor and head back to your seat, burning with shame. 

It seems like it’s just one thing after another. 

You barely pay attention for the rest of class, head spinning with thoughts of how bad you did, how everything sucks, how you just want to go home. 

Agatha texts you a few times during the three hour time span, just checking in on you, but you don’t even respond. She always says that you get too wrapped up in your own brain and you know she’s right. You do let her know that you won’t need a ride home, not sure you could take the older woman’s softness right now. 

You just want to take a shower and lie in bed. 

Class finally ends and you order an Uber instead of asking a friend to take you home. When you get in these moods, you don’t want to talk to anyone. 

You grunt in response to the driver’s question of asking how you are and then the rest of the ride is spent in silence. It’s not often you get in such a foul mood, but when it does, it’s tough. 

When you make it through the front door of Agatha’s home, you immediately collapse on the couch and breathe in the blanket that still has her scent. She’ll be home soon and now you just want her to give you a big hug and tell you that everything will be alright. 

You hear keys jingle in the front door maybe ten minutes later and you sit up on the couch expectantly, heartbeat picking up. You’ve been with Agatha for six months now and she still managed to have the same effect on you that she had at the beginning. 

“Hey, baby,” she calls out, seeing the lights on, and she makes her way to the living room to find you swaddled in her favorite blanket on the couch. She frowns, instantly able to tell something is wrong. Usually you get up to give her a kiss. “You okay?” 

And then it’s like a dam breaks. You start sobbing and telling her all the things that have gone wrong that day and she instantly sits down next to you, engulfing you into a hug and whispering that everything will be okay. 

She lets you cry for a bit, hand stroking your hair, making soothing sounds. Eventually, you calm down enough to take slow, shaky breaths. 

“I’m sorry, doll. Sounds like you had a rough day,” she says, pressing a kiss to your head and wiping the tears off your cheeks. You nod in agreement. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

You shrug while you think about it. And then you lean in and chastely kiss her lips. 

When you pull back, she’s smirking. 

“You want mommy to help you?” She coos and instantly, a fire awakens in your belly at the use of your favorite name for her. Your head bobs up and down eagerly but she tuts and grabs your jaw to hold it still. “Words, baby.” 

“Yes please, mommy,” you whisper. No one can make you feel as good as Agatha can. 

“Good girl,” Agatha hums and the fire gets worse. “What do you want?” 

You squirm on the couch, just looking at her, begging with wide eyes. 

“Why don’t you show me what you want?” You whine and grab her hand and bring it down to your shorts. “Oh, do you want me to touch you?” 

“Please,” you force out again. “Touch me, mommy.” 

Her grin is wicked as she lays you back down on the couch, positioning herself so she’s holding her weight above you. Your noses are almost close enough to touch. 

“Does my little baby want me to reward her like the perfect little angel that she is?” Agatha purrs and you gasp, feeling your head start to get fuzzy. She plays with the waistband of your shorts and your hips buck up involuntarily. You make a sort of strangled noise from your throat – all you can do, really – and she shushes you. “Just relax, doll. Let mommy take care of you.” You whimper as she kisses your nose and moves down your body to undress you. 

You feel like you’re on a different planet when Agatha pats your waist so you can lift yourself up for her to take your shorts and underwear off. 

“There we go, so good for me,” she says, leaving kisses against your thighs. You moan, senses heightened. You babble something incoherently and you can hear her chuckling at you. “Baby, you’re absolutely dripping for me.” 

Her fingers move up and down your slit, collecting wetness, and sounds are pulled out of your mouth by her administration. 

“Does that feel good, hon?” 

Your head lulls back on the couch and you try to say something to affirm her question. 

“Aw, is my little baby in subspace right now?” Something in the back of your mind tells you that you must be, but you’re too blissed out to answer. 

And then her tongue is on your pussy and you couldn’t say a word even if you tried. If you didn’t already feel like you were floating then, you sure do now. Your back arches off the couch as she sucks on your clit but her hands come up to hold you down. 

“Be a good girl for me and let mommy do all the work.” 

Your moans get louder as she keeps eating you out and you’ve never felt this good before. It’s like all your worries and stress and frustration that built up over the day are melting away to leave you in a puddle of pleasure. 

“Mommy, so close,” you slur, hands digging into the couch beneath you. Her teeth scrape against your clit and she moans into you and it sends you into an explosive orgasm. 

You’re not sure you’ve ever cum that hard. 

She licks you through it and you have to pull her away after a while because you become sensitive. 

Agatha comes up to kiss you, long and hard, and you can taste yourself on her tongue. 

“Do you want to try something new tonight, baby?” She asks once she pulls away and you nod eagerly before even asking what it is. You trust her more than anyone. “I’ll be right back.” She gives you one last parting kiss and quickly runs upstairs. 

She’s up there for a few minutes while you lay on the couch, still in a trance-like haze. 

And then she comes back down and your mouth falls open. 

Attached to her hips is the biggest strap-on you’ve ever seen. She must have just bought it. You had gotten to where you could take the toys you had pretty easily, but you are certain that this will stretch you out so much more than them. 

“Mommy,” you whisper, eyes widening as she comes back over to the couch. You can see that she’s holding lube in one hand. 

“Mommy wants to see if your tiny, little pussy can fit her big cock,” she says and a thrill runs through you despite yourself. “Might have to work you up to it.” 

Your legs part without thinking and she laughs. 

“So desperate for me, aren’t you? My perfect, little slut.” You gasp at the words, feeling yourself get even more wet. 

While you loved the praise from her, degradation almost turned you on more. 

“You have to relax, baby,” she reminds you, moving to kneel on the couch between your legs and pushing them even more open. She rubs your clit and slides two fingers in easily. You grind up on her fingers, trying to pull them in more. “Look at how well you take my fingers. So good for mommy. You can’t get enough of them, can you?” 

You shake your head and groan when she curls them just right. 

“Such a good whore for mommy,” she sighs. “Can you take another?” 

“Please,” you gasp out, walls clenching around the two already inside you. She pulls them and you feel empty, but that feeling is quickly gone when she pushes three in you. The stretch feels so good and your hips meet her every thrust, the pleasure in you already growing. 

And then it’s gone. Your head flies up to look at her wrapping the hand wet with you around her strap and coating it. And then she opens the bottle of lube and pours a hefty amount in her other hand to also stroke the toy with. 

“Are you ready, baby?” 

“Go slow, mommy,” you tell her, even though you know that she will. “You’re so big.” 

“You’re going to look so pretty, sweetheart, stretched around my big cock,” she says and positions the tip at your entrance. “Like a little, perfect slut. 

The first push steals all the air from your lungs. 

“Fuck,” you groan. You’ve never been so full in your life and you barely have any of it inside you. Agatha doesn’t move, just rubs small circles on your thighs and waits for you to tell her you’re okay. 

It takes a few moments for you to adjust. It’s definitely easier in the headspace that you’re in right now. 

“Okay,” you say and Agatha obeys, slowly moving forward inside you. She stops when your breathing gets strangled and doesn’t move again until you’re back to normal. 

“God, your little pussy looks so good taking my big cock so well,” she grunts once she finally bottoms out. If your mind was clearer, you’d tease her about the size kink she so clearly has. “How are you doing, baby? Can I move?” 

“Please, mommy,” you beg, still feeling euphoric. Every drag of her cock against your walls now feels like heaven. She smirks and starts to move.

She starts slow at first, just short, slow strokes to make sure that you’re still comfortable, and then she starts to really fuck you. 

The pace Agatha sets is rough and bruising and you can hear the wet, squelching sounds that the toy makes as it pushes back inside you every thrust, a mix of your wetness and lube. 

“Mommy,” is all you can pant as she fucks into you over and over again, a light sheen of sweat breaking out on her. 

“So fucking good, sweetheart, you’re taking my cock so well, such a perfect slut for mommy,” Agatha mutters, never slowing down once. If you were already in subspace before, you’re not sure you have a word for what state you’re in right now. There are not even semblances of thoughts in your head, there is only Agatha and the pleasure she is giving you. You can’t even remember what you were in such a bad mood about earlier. 

She reaches down to rub your clit again and you hear someone moan obscenely loudly. 

You think it might have been you. 

All you know is that you’re getting so close again you can taste it. She seems like she can tell because she somehow speeds up, which you didn’t think was possible. Little gasps are forced out of your mouth with every push and your walls are tightening so much around her that it makes it hard for her to thrust. 

“So good, baby, you’re taking me so well,” Agatha chants, a hand reaching up to play with your nipple under your shirt. “So perfect, such a perfect slut, my perfect good girl. Cum for mommy, cum all over mommy’s big cock.” 

She angles her hips just right and rubs your clit hard and you spasm, back bowing off the couch. You’ve never felt pleasure this extreme; it feels like you’re having an out-of-body experience. All the tension in your body is gone and you pant heavily as Agatha pulls out of you. 

“You okay, baby?” She asks and you wheeze a laugh. 

“M’okay,” you say happily, a slow smile spreading onto your face. You can feel your head clearing with the loss of her touch. 

“Let me get a washcloth, alright? I’ll be right back, I promise.” She gives you a kiss on your head and she’s back in what seems like seconds with a warm towel. You wince at the feeling of it between her legs but it helps. “Do you want to move to bed?” 

You nod, but you’re not actually sure if you can stand up based on the jelly feeling in your legs. Agatha seems to understand this without you saying anything and she scoops you off the couch bridal style and carries you up the stairs. 

You giggle and burrow your head into the crook of her neck, breathing her in and feeling her against you. 

“You did so good, baby,” she whispers. 

“Thank you, Agatha. I really needed that.” 

She pauses for a second in the hallway to peck your lips. “I know you did. I’m happy to help, sweetheart. Whatever you need.” 

Once in the bedroom, Agatha helps you into some comfy pajamas and makes you take sips of water from the bottle on her nightstand. You lay down and she pulls the covers over you both, pulling you close to her so she can wrap an arm around you. 

“You’re so perfect, baby, you know that?” She murmurs. “I love you so much.” She kisses you softly, bringing a hand up to stroke your hair. 

“I love you too,” you mumble in-between kisses. No one has ever made you feel more loved than Agatha. 

“I’m so proud of you,” she continues and you blush. “I know you had a hard day today, but tomorrow will be better. You’re so strong. You’re my perfect girl. I love you.” 

And she keeps whispering the sweetest things into your ear, and you drift off to sleep in her arms, feeling like nothing was ever wrong. 

[syndrossi]

Regnal AU, Chapter 2 (pt 2)

Part one here.

It's Daemon's name day, and the twins are two months old. (Dunno that the two parts really form a cohesive chapter, but word-count-wise, it works.)

x~x~x

One week passed, then another, and another. As the twins neared the second moon after their birth, they were nearly nine pounds apiece. Aemon no longer wailed when he picked him up, though his first coo had gone to Rhea—and Baelon’s to his father. It was a matter of great dispute who had garnered their first true smile. Rhea insisted it had been her, three nights ago, but Daemon had sung a lewd drinking song to them the night before and was confident that their smiles after had been for him alone.

Their new cradle was finished at last, this one with room aplenty for twins and dragon eggs alike, which was good, given how Aemon fussed when he was parted from them. Daemon carefully transferred the eggs to the hearth and then picked up an infant in either arm, holding them while the old cradle was lugged out of the room and the new one brought in.

Their nurse, Denna, lined it carefully with soft padding, then blankets, until finally it was ready. Daemon glanced down to find Baelon chewing on a strand of his dangling hair and couldn’t help his smile. “I fear I am not the breakfast you hoped for.”

He kissed their cheeks, then surrendered them to Denna for feeding, which she handled with practiced ease, one upon each breast. He set himself upon the task of rearranging the dragon eggs in their cradle, then went to the window, gazing out across the green of the fields beyond the castle. Summer continued apace—a long one, nearing three years—which favored his sons. The cruelest fevers came in the cold seasons, winter and spring especially.

And summer would be the best season for dragon rides, which he hoped the twins would be old enough for within the next few moons. Their dragon eggs had not hatched yet, though Daemon could feel warmth radiating from them even when they hadn’t been near the hearth. If not now, then perhaps soon.

Daemon settled in one of the chairs by the cradle and watched the twins nurse. Rhea had wanted to feed the twins herself, but the maester had advised that it was better for a wetnurse to take over such duties after the first week. They nursed so often that it was probably for the best, but watching Rhea nurse them that first week had stirred a warmth in him he had not expected.

Denna paid him little heed, well accustomed by now to Targaryen princes paying audience between Daemon and his father, and when the twins were done, she put them over each shoulder, and gently patted their backs for a few minutes, until a burp emerged from each.

“Is there aught I can help you with, my prince?” Denna asked.

He wanted nothing more than to take them out to meet Caraxes, but Maester Therbold had expressly forbidden them from venturing beyond the nursery until two full moons had passed and he had not garnered the courage to be the first to take them outside. “I wish to play with them for a time.”

The nurse smiled at him and arranged a blanketed space on the ground, where she set them down gently on their stomachs. Daemon joined them, mimicking their position, and Della brought several toys over, yet it was his hair, as ever, that proved the most interesting toy for Baelon. His tugs were impressively strong, and Daemon had to eventually extricate himself to offer a soft doll instead.

Aemon gummed at his finger instead, occasionally locking on as though to suckle, before accepting the substitute of his dragon doll. Infants were not capable of supporting the weight of their own heads until they were nearly half a year old, Daemon had been told, though they did lift their heads occasionally as he moved the horse doll between them, gazes following it.

It did not surprise him when his father crept into the nursery, though the tray of cheese and fruit he was carrying was unexpected.

“I thought I might join you,” he said.

He eased himself down onto the floor more gingerly, and Daemon sat up to grab a wedge of cheese to nibble on, leaning his back against the foot of the nurse’s bed. “What news from the king?” At his father’s raised eyebrow, he added, “I saw a few ravens arrive this morning after my ride.”

“Your grandmother is planning her journey here. I told her that she must wait until the twins have reached four moons, but that has not stopped her from making preparations at least. Your aunt will be joining her, and if she had her way, so would half of the royal court.”

Daemon pulled a face at the thought of having to entertain even a subset of the courtiers that had attached themselves to the queen’s court. “I am glad you convinced her to see reason.”

Baelon was trying to roll onto his back, a feat he had been working on for the past two days without success, though that had not deterred him. Aemon watched his brother with interest while he sucked on the tail of his dragon doll. 

“I remember when you were that small,” his father said. “You also favored your dragon doll.”

Daemon shrugged. “I was a discerning infant.”

“Your mother was convinced that you were a daughter,” his father continued, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “So much so that Viserys announced to any who would listen that he was going to marry you, just as I had married your mother.”

It was not the first time he had heard that story, though it had been his uncle telling it last time. “And when I was born, he swore instead that he would protect me, like Uncle Aemon did you.”

His father’s arm tightened, drawing him close for a kiss to the temple. Daemon’s token wriggle found him locked in, the embrace unyielding. “You are not too old for me to hold. That day will never come.”

Daemon bit back a sigh. He was a man of eighteen now. He did not want to be protected and coddled.

“Happy name day,” his father said, releasing him at last. “You did not think I would forget, surely?”

“Of course not,” Daemon said, though a part of him had wondered, given how taken he was with his grandbabes. His father had forgotten only once, in the hazy weeks after his uncle’s death.

“Your gift will be arriving with your grandmother. For today, I thought we might take a ride together, and then have a few bouts in the yard.” His father grinned at him. “I have picked up a trick or two since your last victory.”

“It shall avail you nothing,” Daemon assured him, managing a small smile in response.

It was an idyllic day that his father described, but it did nothing to calm the restlessness in his heart. He had thought that a visit to the nursery would help, which it sometimes did, but it was particularly strong today: a sense of urgency, but without purpose.

His father sighed, seeming to read his thoughts, then kissed his hair again. “Do not rush to glory, Daemon. It will find you readily enough.”

Daemon thought about Viserys, appointed as master of law on their grandfather’s small council to better study the administering of the realm. Then he thought of all the distant realms he had yet to visit across the Narrow Sea. “I do not see what glory there is to be found here in Runestone.”

“There is little glory in tourneys either, and that was all I had acquired by your age,” his father said. “When I was eighteen, I was trying and failing to make a proper swordsman of your uncle Vaegon.”

“But you and Aemon had flown throughout the realm by then. I have gone no further north than the Eyrie. Is this truly the only way I can serve our family? By siring heirs and flying Caraxes in circles around the Vale?”

“You assist Lady Rhea in her duties, do you not?”

He had, especially the first few weeks after her pregnancy, when she had been recovering from the long, difficult birth. But— “This is hers. Nothing here is truly mine. I am obeyed because I am her consort. The coin I spend is hers. The castle, the lands, the sheep fed to Caraxes—all of it hers. We are amicable now, but that is all.”

“Give it time.”

“You did not need time,” Daemon said sharply. “I want to matter to someone the way you did to Mother, to Uncle Aemon.”

Viserys had visited Runestone once in his first year, and only because Daemon had sounded so despondent that their father had sent him. It was as though he had not cared that Daemon had gone from his life. He knew that Viserys had struggles of his own, and a wife and child of his own now, but—do I not matter anymore?

“You matter to me,” his father said, hand coming to rest on his hair, gently tilting his gaze to his twin sons. “And you will matter to them.”

It is not the same. Daemon already knew what a father’s love felt like, now that he had sons of his own. He knew that it resided in the very soul, kindled as they grew in the womb and brought to roaring at birth.

“I feel like a blade left to tarnish in the damp of Runestone.” He turned back to his father, hurt rising in him. “You left me here.”

His father had known that he did not desire this match, yet he had not even tried to sway the king. He had stayed long enough to see the wedding done, and then taken off on Vhagar, back to King’s Landing.

He caught a flicker of guilt in his father’s eyes. “I am sorry, Daemon. Your grandfather insisted that you be wed, and Lady Rhea was the best of the choices offered. I cannot give you Dragonstone when I am king, but I hoped that Runestone could be a home for you, and a legacy for your children.”

“So long as nothing happens to Viserys,” Daemon said cynically. He knew what his grandfather’s motivation had been.

His father paled. “Do not say that.” He clutched Daemon so close he could feel the quiver of tension vibrating through him. “I cannot lose anyone else. Not you, not your brother.”

Daemon swallowed, regret overtaking his resentment. It was so easy in the aftermath of the twins’ birth to forget how dark the malaise that gripped his father’s spirit could be, how deep the hurt that lingered. “I did not mean it.”

“You do not know how difficult it is,” his father breathed into his hair. “How great the temptation to keep the two of you close at hand, beyond harm. Were I king—” He pulled back, hand catching Daemon’s cheek briefly before dropping. “I would clip your wings, even if you hated me, if I did not know that doing so would douse your fire.”

You already have, Daemon wanted to say, but that was not true. He had not yet found his place in Runestone, and still did not know what he wanted, let alone how to achieve it, but he knew that his father would not stop him once he did.

“You will have a place on my council that allows you to roam,” his father said, squeezing his hand. “But you must promise always to return.” He nodded toward the twins. “For them as much as me.”

“I do not want to leave them,” Daemon said weakly. “Not for very long.”

They grew so quickly; it was difficult to imagine missing the memories his father had of him. Their first laugh, their first food, their first word and step. He needed to be able to tell them those stories, when they were older.

“Good.”

Baelon had given up his rolling attempts at last and was suckling at the horse doll in solidarity with his brother. Both their gazes were on Daemon and his father, and he leaned over to pick up Baelon, passing him to his father, and then Aemon, who maintained his grip on his dragon doll, though his eyes shifted to focus on Daemon.

“I wanted to introduce them to Caraxes,” Daemon said, and Aemon cooed as though he had understood him. “Do you think it is safe?”

“For their health? Yes.” His father rocked Baelon in his arms, earning a smile. “From your wife? Likely not. Fortunately, it is your name day, and you can do as you wish.”

x~x~x

Caraxes was napping when they arrived at the enclosure, head stirring as they entered, then eyes opening to full alertness as his gaze fell upon the wrapped bundles Daemon held in either arm. Rhea hovered a few feet behind them, a condition of the twins meeting the dragon, and Daemon could nearly sense her nerves as he brought their sons closer.

“This is my son Baelon,” Daemon said, angling to bring his eldest close for Caraxes to smell.

His dragon’s nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply, as though committing smell to name, and Baelon returned the dragon’s stare, undeterred until the dragon let out a low rumble of approval, at which point he and his brother both wriggled in surprise.

Caraxes looked toward his father, as though questioning whether Daemon was aware that he had used his name for the tiny creature in his arms. “He is also called Jon,” he said begrudgingly.

Daemon rotated then to bring his other son close. “And this is my son Aemon.”

Caraxes blinked twice, seeming to sniff the infant extra hard, as though seeking a different scent than the one he found. Daemon felt a hint of sorrow trickle through their bond, and he placed his hand on his snout.

“They are not the same. He is new.”

Aemon cooed up at the dragon, and Daemon was startled to find that he had somehow worked a hand free of his blankets. He extended his tiny fist toward Caraxes, feeling the scales of his face, looking between the dragon and Daemon with huge eyes.

“You will have a dragon just like him some day,” Daemon told him in Valyrian, knowing his son preferred their mother tongue.

Caraxes opened his jaw wide, exposing his massive teeth and tongue, and let out a ground-shaking roar of approval. Just audible in the background was a scream, and Daemon turned to find Rhea clutching his father’s arm, looking horrified.

“No, no,” his father said, patting her shoulder, “that means he approves.”

Both babes shook slightly in his arms, wide-eyed and silent as they looked to him for reassurance, and he kissed their cheeks, commending them for their bravery.

“I am not allowed to take you riding yet,” he said. “But do not let your kekepa convince you that Vhagar is the superior mount. He lies.”

Rhea all but snatched their babies from him when he returned to them, stiff with tension as she hugged them to her.

His father gestured toward the space outside the enclosure where Vhagar was kept. “Now we must introduce them to—”

“No,” Rhea said, walking briskly enough back to the castle that they both had to trot after her. “It is Daemon’s name day, not yours.”

[pitchsidestories]

the grinch II Laura Freigang x Reader

masterlist | word count: 1661

summary: Laura's in a festive mood already, reader isn’t, but maybe a visit at the Christmas market in Frankfurt can change that.

author's note: dear readers, we hope you'll like the black cat x golden retriever dynamic in this oneshot.💕

Your Friday nights were sacred to you.

While other people went out, you waited all week to stay inside and cozy up on your couch. After long hours at work, it was the perfect way to relax.

You let yourself fall onto the sofa, pulling your feet in under yourself and grabbing the remote.

It was just you, the movie you were about to pick out and… your girlfriend hanging up Christmas lights right above the TV.

You silently glared at her back but she continued adjusting the decorations while singing to herself: “All I want for Christmas is youuuuu, baby!”

She turned towards you, pretending to hold microphone in one hand and pointing at you with the other.

You blinked at her, forcing yourself to not grab the nearest pillow and throw it at her: “What is wrong with you? It’s way too early for that!”

It was still November and you were pretty grateful for that. You weren’t the biggest fan of Christmas. In contrast to your girlfriend who shook her head with a patient smile: “Nope. The first Christmas markets are open in Frankfurt and you and me will go there tonight with my team.“

The urge to smack a pillow in her face grew with every word but you stayed strong.

“No.“, you said simply but determined.

Laura sat next to you on the sofa, blinking at you with innocent eyes: “Come on, Liebling. You work so hard, you deserve to enjoy yourself from time to time too.“

“I wanted to enjoy myself by staying in and watching Netflix.“, you groaned.

“Please join us.“ She gave you her best puppy eyes and pulled her lips into a little pout.

It was cute but you really didn’t want to go.

You sighed: “Why? I don’t even like Christmas.“

“Liebling, the girls would love to see you again. And I love to brag about my amazing, talented girl.“, Laura grinned, coming closer and closer until her nose touched your neck. She carefully placed a kiss to your jaw.

You rolled your eyes and pushed her off: “You can’t sweet-talk me into going.“

Finally, she gave in and pushed herself off the sofa: “Okay, fine. I’ll get ready then.“

“Wait… you’re going alone?”, you asked.

“I won’t force you to come with me.“, Laura shrugged before heading to the bedroom.

You knew exactly what that meant. You could either let her go alone or you had to join her. So essentially she did force you.

“God, I hate you.“, you groaned as you finally turned off the TV and got up.

“No, you love me.“, Laura replied through the closed door.

“You’re lucky I do.“, you grumbled while you slipped into your warmest clothes.

When Laura returned in her puffer jacket and saw you pull on your boots, she asked excitedly: “Does that mean you’ll join us?”

“Do I have a choice?”, you sighed.

“I mean you do but…“, the rest of her reply was muted by the thick scarf she wrapped around herself in that moment.

You shrugged into your winter coat and reluctantly ushered her out of your shared apartment: “Don’t. Just go already, I don’t have all night.“

The scent of roasted almonds, cinnamon and gingerbread was the first thing you both noticed once you entered the Christmas market. The old townhouses including the town hall were looking like pieces of a winter children’s book and yet the Frankfurt skyline was shining in the background.

The mix of old and new was always there and something your girlfriend found so exciting she tried to capture it with her camera. For a second you tried to see the scenery through her blue eyes which sparkled like the fairy lights surrounding her.

With a big smile on her face, she waved at her teammates. “Hi girls!”

“Hey, you two.”, Sara grinned.

“You already got mulled wine without us?!”, Laura exclaimed.

“Don’t worry, we got some for you two.”, Barbara reassured the striker.

“Thanks, Baba.”, you replied, thankful for the hot drink warming your cold hands.

“You’re welcome.”, the Austrian replied.

“The Misses Grinch here didn’t want to leave the house at first, can you believe that?”, your girlfriend asked teasingly.

“And miss out on the Christmas market?”, Sophia shook her head in disbelief.

Grumpily you thought to yourself, wait until you all have 9 to 5 jobs.

“Yes, she said it’s too early to be in the mood for Christmas.”, Laura went on smirking.

“It’s.”, you protested.

“No, it’s never too early for that.”, Sara disagreed lifting her dog Peanut who was wearing a sweater with Christmas trees printed on it.

“Of course it’s.”, you grumbled. It was November, no one in the office you worked was in the festive mood because there was still too much work at the end of the year to do.

“Lau, you were right, your girlfriend is the grinch.”, Nicole observed amusedly.

“I told you.”, Laura answered.

“More Glühwein?”, Barbara offered.

“Please.”, you muttered, glad for the alcohol as well as for the warm company which you wouldn’t admit it to your girlfriend. The Austrian and you were the one getting the drinks for everyone, so you had missed a bit of the conversation. You couldn’t believe your ears what you heard next.

“Oh, my girl invests into women’s sport now by the way.”, Laura told her teammates in a proud tone.

“That’s great!”, Sara commented enthusiastically.

All the eyes of the football players were now on you, their attention made you blush even harder.

“Yeah, I mean it’s something different to my usual investments.”, you responded nervously.

“You’re making the right decision. Women’s sport is booming everywhere.”, Barbara promised.

“I still need her help for my side projects though.”, Laura winked at you before leaning into you. Even though they took a lot of her and your time, first the photo book and then her own clothing line. She was the creative head, and you were the one turning her ideas into actual products which could be sold and profitable.

“Yes, I’ll be there for that. But can we maybe stop talking about work?”, you requested.

“Of course. I’m just so proud of you.”, your girlfriend beamed at you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Oh.”

“Cuties.”, Elisa hummed.

Was this the true spirit of Christmas or did the mulled wine finally kicked in?

Suddenly acutely aware of your girlfriends’ teammates watching, you cleared your throat and announced: “I’ll come to your game on Sunday by the way.“

“You will?”, Laura grinned excitedly.

“Yes, babe.“, you confirmed with a single nod.

“That’s amazing!”

Her lips were suddenly on yours, kissing longingly. You could taste sting of alcohol from the mulled wine on her breath.

You pulled away with heated cheeks: “I promised you that I would come to your next game.“

“What about another hat-trick, Laura? To celebrate her making an appearance.“, Sara joked, elbowing her teammate in the side.

“We’ll see. I will try my best.“, Laura winked.

You laughed lightly: “No pressure.“

“I’ll score at least one for you.“, she promised happily.

You stifled a laugh. Apparently the mulled wine had already gotten to her. “That’s very sweet of you.“

“While we’re at sweet… Do you want some chocolate covered strawberries?“, Laura smoothly changed the topic.

Only the thought of them, almost made you drool. You might not like Christmas markets but you had a weakness for the variety of chocolate fruits they sell there.

“I do. You know I love them.“

Laura smiled mischievously: “I do know what.“

“We should get some and then we need to go home before you are fully drunk.“, you joked, pointing at the mug she was holding.

Laura looked at you with raised eyebrows: “I’m not drunk, you’re drunk.“

“Uhu sure, love.“, you rolled your eyes, even though you couldn’t deny that you felt the alcohol.

“Just admit that you both had too much and go!”, Sara interrupted jokingly.

“Incredibly rude, Sara!”, Laura protested but her teammate just retorted with a casual shrug.

“It’s the truth.“

“Let’s just get the strawberries and leave, Lau. Bye, girls.“ You took Lauras hand and dragged her along as you waved goodbye to the rest of her team.

“Bye, see you on Sunday!”, Barbara called after you.

With your chocolate strawberries and some almonds for Laura, you went back home. With a sigh of relief, you kicked off your shoes and hung up your jacket.

“And? Wasn’t that bad after all, right Liebling?”

“It was… okay.“, you shrugged.

“Only okay?!”, Laura echoed, pretending to be offended.

You let yourself fall onto your spot on the sofa that you only reluctantly left earlier that evening.

“Well, it wasn’t as bad without you here.“, you admitted slowly.

A satisfied smile appeared on your girlfriends face: “I take that as a compliment.“

“You can.“

Sitting down next to you, she quickly kissed your cheek: “Thanks for coming with me. I had a lot of fun.“

“I could tell. You loved the Christmas market.“, you grinned back at her.

“Yes but don’t worry, I’ll always love you more.“, she winked.

You silently shook your head about her until Laura suddenly bursted into another Christmas song: “I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need…“

Groaning, you let your head fall back: “Lau, I love you and I enjoyed the Christmas market tonight but it’s still way too early!”

Laura blinked at you innocently: “Says who?”

“Me!”

“Then stop me from singing.“, she teased.

“Come here.“ Without hesitation, you pulled her in for a passionate kiss that was enough to take Lauras breath away.

Maybe you didn’t like Christmas as much as Laura, but you loved the way her eyes lit up at the sight of the Christmas lights and how her nose and cheeks turned pink from the cold. Maybe she was worth visiting overcrowded Christmas markets and listening to stupid Christmas songs in November.

if you enjoyed this story reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated !

[tinylilacbun]

I just had a thought for your new series.

Everyone in the obx kinda knows how Luke is but noone says anything. Maybe JJ shows up to babysit and he had a bruise/black eye or cut basically an obvious injury and toddler readers parents recognise what it's from and invite him to spend a few nights in their guest room under the guise of babysitting because they know he won't accept help

Feel free to completely ignore this, I literally just woke up and had the thought so I thought I'd share- :3

-a very shy mutual lol 😅

Omg hi my sweet moot!! Hope you like this :3

You're sitting on the living room sofa, wriggling your feet as you watch Bluey on the tv while eating your snack, occasionally seeing your parents pass by.

They're getting ready for their date and instead of whining and crying for them to stay you're giddy with excitement and can't wait for JJ finally to arrive.

You gasp when you hear the doorbell ring, jumping off the couch to run towards the front door barely reaching the handle you open it quickly, squealing at the sight of JJ.

JJ chuckles, your adorable face distracting him from the throbbing pain from the lingering bruises and cuts on his face that you luckily haven't noticed yet as you hug his legs.

"Oh, JJ, honey good you're here. We're almost ready to go. She already had dinner but still needs her bath before going to sleep." Your mother tells him as she puts on her coat while your father puts on his shoes.

"No problem, we'll manage this, huh?" He grins down at you.

She turns to face him, her smile fading at the state the teenager is in. Obviously your parents know about his father and the probably bad environment JJ is living in, your mother's heart aching at the sight before him.

JJ has a forming bruise on his cheek and cuts on his eyebrow and his bottom lip, but still smiling down at the little princess that's clinging to his legs. Your parents share a look, already figuring what must have happened.

"Hey, buddy, um we really got a lot on our plate the next few days and wanted to ask if you would maybe sleep here in our guest room for the rest of the week? It would really take some pressure from our shoulders knowing our baby is taken care of." Your father asks him, grabbing the car keys from their designed bowl.

"Uh, yea...sure." He says, not noticing the true intent of the request but agrees nonetheless, he could never say no to spending time with you. "You heard that, cupcake? We're gonna have a sleepover."

"Yay! C'mon Jay! I gots to show you m'new critter family!" You squeak, pulling at his hand to drag him to your room.

As soon as you both disappear from their sight your mother sighs. "I'm worried about him."

Your father nods, grabbing her hand and kissing the back of it. "Me too. But we can't do much since he won't accept it. I'm glad he agreed to stay, tho. Now, come on, let's give him some time to relax here."

You're happily showing him your new calico critter set that you got after your dentist appointment. Introducing each critter to him, you both sitting on the fluffy carpet of your room.

"And dis S'Jay 'cause he reminds me of you!" You smile, handing him the tiny figure, looking up at his face for his reaction you furrow your brows in confusion.

Without thinking you reach up to touch his cheek and JJ winces, gently taking your wrist and pulling it away from his face. "Don't touch it please, um...it-"

"Hurts? You got boo-boos?" You ask curiously and he nods, a small smile on his face at your innocent question.

"Yeah, but it's fine." He says, watching how you rush out of your room.

He gets up from the ground and follows after you, seeing you just as you're about to enter the bathroom and as he's about to enter you rush back out and bump into his legs, JJ grabbing your shoulders to keep you steady with a chuckle. "Careful there. Watcha got there?"

You motion for him to come closer and he leans down, not expecting you to suddenly place a bandaid on his cheek, grabbing another one from the colorful package that you place over the cut on his eyebrow.

JJ's face softens at the action, picking you up when it seems you were done with nursing his wounds. "Thank you..."

You smile at him brightly, leaning closer to press a kiss on each bandaid. "Kisses make me feels better."

His heart almost explodes at your cute gesture, letting you tuck your face in his neck as you wrap your arms around it he could feel a single tear slip down his cheek, grateful for having someone who doesn't question him or tells him that he should get help and do something about his dad.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu @mylettterstoyou @sunf1ower16

For JJ:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @flora-eva

[sunarots]

BETTER THAN REVENGE! ━━━ tooru oikawa & rintarou suna

16. breakthrough ♡

Rin leans back against his car with a lit cigarette between his lips, an arm draped around your neck to keep you close. You anxiously keep your vape as close to your mouth as possible, taking a hit whenever you feel your anxiety rise. Atsumu paces back and forth in front of the two of you, stumbling into the way of pedestrians repeatedly. He has one airpod in, listening to the instrumentals you'd pieced together.

Rin pulls the cigarette away and blows the smoke over his shoulder before looking back to you. "We got you. Just like always. Okay, babe?"

Sighing, you nod your head and flash him a weak smile. "Yeah. Okay. We got this," you repeat under your breath, leaning further into him. "Thanks."

He shrugs his shoulders and goes to speak, stopping himself when he notices the approaching couple. Atsumu stops in his tracks, resting his hands on his hips before turning to the pair of you. "Well, if it ain't Charles and Camilla. Ya wearing yer revenge dress?"

You can't help but laugh at Atsumu's comment, shielding your smile with your free hand. You turn fully to face Oikawa and Emiko, stuffing your vape in the pocket of your jeans before grasping onto Rin's hand. "Hey!" You pray your fake smile says it all, gesturing to the cafe. "Ready?"

"Yes! Let's go!" Emiko tugs on Oikawa's hand and immediately leads the way inside.

Rin stubs out the cigarette on the roof of his car before flicking it into the bin, grimacing at the thought of what’s about to happen. You follow the others towards a table hidden around the corner, Emiko instantly excusing herself and Atsumu so they could get everyone's drinks. Rather, her blocking his path to the table so he had no choice but to follow her away.

You slip into the seat opposite Oikawa, Rin falling into place by your side once again. You lean back in your seat, clasping your hands together and resting them on the table. "So, how's the show? You like the script?"

Oikawa laughs awkwardly, running a hand through his hair and slumping back in his seat. "Yeah. It's interesting. Different."

"Not too different, though," you quickly point out, moving one of your hands to grab Rin's beneath the table. "For you, anyway. Emiko's a great actress. Really smiley and bubbly, but being able to play such a messed up role is impressive. Though, you are the expert."

Rin covers her mouth with his free hand, clearing his throat and adverting his gaze from Oikawa as he sinks lower into his seat.

"Oh, well... That is the job of an actor." He leans forward in his seat, running a hand down his face. "Um, how's the album coming?"

Rin smiles, straightening up. "Oh, it's great. We have one last song to record, and then it'll be out. Hopefully soon on streaming platforms."

You nod along, enjoying watching Oikawa's face contort with distress. He looks behind you and sighs in relief, practically jumping out of his chair to assist Emiko and Atsumu with the drinks.

"What're we talking about?" Emiko asks eagerly, accepting Oikawa's hand as he helps her sit.

"Our new album. We're recording the last song tonight, and then it'll be out for streaming soon. Next week, I hope," you explain, taking a prolonged sip from your cup. "Me and Rin are working on a duet. We can't quite place a chorus or bridge that pulls it together, but I'm on the verge of a breakthrough."

"Wow. It's amazing you can predict it." Emiko gapes, tucking her hair back behind her ears. "What brings it on?"

You shrug your shoulders, Atsumu speaking for you, "Oh, she can take inspiration from anything. Especially people. She could probably write a song about ya." He grins, lightly swatting your arm as if to ask did you hear that?

"I bet she could," Oikawa retorts, clearly intended to be internal. He clears his throat and straightens up. "So, will we make a start on this script? What questions do you have about the plot?"

You shake your head. "No, I think we have the plot. You and Emiko are having problems- sorry, I don't know your characters' names. Anyway, you have problems in the marriage, she goes to all lengths to keep you together and stop you from doing all these sleazy things. That's the gist of it, right?"

Oikawa nods along slowly, clenching his jaw. “Just about, yeah.”

Atsumu runs his fingers along his jaw and sighs heavily. “Y’know, I feel like that reminds me of something. Like it’s a film I’ve seen before…”

You start to laugh at his comment, amused by his efforts of making this as uncomfortable for the couple as possible. It’s clearly working, with the way Oikawa looks like he may explode. Before Rin has a chance to add on to his jests, you grab onto his wrist with wide eyes.

“Oh my god. Rin, the song.” You turn away from Oikawa with an eager smile, full focus on your partner. “I think I’ve seen this film before, and I didn’t like the ending.”

Rin nods along as you hum the tune after, repeating your lyrics in his head. He gasps, snaps his fingers at Atsumu and looks between the two of you. “You say, I gave so many signs. I say, You never gave a warning sign.”

You clap your hands together, looking at Atsumu who’s started the voice recording before opening his notes app to write the lyrics you’ve both quoted. He nods his head, drops his phone to the table and beams at you. “We got it!”

“You’ve done jack shit,” Rin scoffs, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“We would forget if he didn’t do this,” you quickly point out, moving his hand back down to your lap and smiling over at the two sat opposite from you at the table. “I’m so sorry about that. If we didn’t do that now, we’d have forgotten it. Sometimes Atsumu comes in handy.”

“The hell do ya mean sometimes. I’m useful!”

You and Rin both fight back your smiles before exchanging a look. “Debatable.”

masterlist. previous | next

summary. as a world-famous singer, everyone knows everything about all of your relationships. namely, your renowned on-again/off-again relationship with one tooru oikawa. it’s hard not to when every song you write is about him. but no one truly knows all of the gory details of all your dirty breakups, except from the two of you. and after announcing in a drunken red-carpet interview that you never want to see his face again, everyone starts desperately searching for the truth behind your twisted relationship. and just when you think you can escape these rumours, in comes a job opportunity your band can’t turn down.

taglist (open!). @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @iaminyourfloors @rrosiitas @v3nusplanetofluv @draculauracullen @lollbecca @honeytwo @wakashudou @tojirin @makki0s @alexithemiyatic @aboutkiyoomi @hermaeusmorax @theepitomeofswag @qyoongi @esunarint @frootloopscos @kimigiri09 @sweetlyvibe @hhoneyhan @jlly1 @nizaii @mdmraz

[tv-show-stuff]

The Hollow Men

Thomas Kinard, in the aftermath

We are the hollow men

We are the stuffed men

Leaning together

Headpiece filled with straw.

It's not until the next week that Tommy realizes he probably just walked away from the best thing that has ever happened to him.

After leaving Evan's place - Buck's place, he thinks to himself, the final nail in the coffin - he gets in his car and does not think about it. He drives home and he does not think about it. He unlocks his door, walks all the way to his bedroom without turning on a single light, and he does not think about it. He strips down to his boxers and his socks and collapses face first on the duvet, not bothering to turn down the bed, and he resolutely does not think about it.

He spends the next five days feeling numb, moving fitfully through the motions, without taking a single second to process the monumental, life-altering decision he made. He gets up in the morning when his alarm goes off, makes his bed with military precision, showers and shaves and styles his hair and brushes his teeth and puts on his cologne like normal. He eats his standard two meals a day, breakfast and dinner, without really tasting them, deliberately ignoring the voice in the back of his mind saying "It's important to enjoy what you're eating, Tommy. Yes I know I was on the keto diet, what does that have to do with anything?" He goes back to skipping lunch, since there is no longer anyone who will wake up early to make one for him when he goes to work, and he doesn't feel like putting in the effort for himself ("If I have it ready for you before you leave, then you have no excuse to skip it, now do you?").

It's not until the sixth day that he realizes "Oh. I ruined something good for me because I was scared ." He's sitting on his couch, ostensibly drinking a beer that he's only taken three sips out of, half-heartedly watching the Kings play the Oilers, when he comes to this realization. His second thought after that is "This is not the first time I've done this."

The thing about Evan is, he's so solid. He's already lived more of a life in three decades than some people do for their entire existence. And even after everything he's gone through, he still manages to hold on to a level of optimism and determination and hope in a way that seams indefatigable. He's brilliant. He's bright. He's young, and exuberant, and after Tommy kissed him and helped him slot into place a piece of himself he didn't even know he was missing, he settled quietly into someone who knows what he wants.

Tommy doesn't know what he wants. Some days, he feels like he doesn't even know who he is. When he looks inward, he sees little more than smoke and mirrors; a labyrinth he doesn't know how to navigate. He's always felt a little off-kilter, like he's walking on a tight-rope, unaware if there's a safety net underneath him if he falls. He's never bothered to look down; he doesn't want to know.

Shape without form, shade without color,

Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Evan told him he saw a future together. He admires Tommy. He thinks he's brave. Tommy is the furthest thing from brave. The bravest things he's ever done have all involved Evan: that world-shattering first kiss in his kitchen; walking away after that failed date; saying yes to his invitation to the wedding. He doesn't think he's got any bravery left in him.

One day, Evan is going to realize that Tommy is a coward. He's hollow, broken; he has no solid core, no inner structure. He doesn't want to be there when it happens.

Evan deserves better than a shell of a person. He's recovered from everything that life has thrown so far thrown at him; he'll recover from this too. He may be heartbroken now, but eventually that will heal. One day, he'll probably even be thankful.

Tommy won't ever recover from this. This will haunt him until the day he dies. It doesn't matter. He'd break his own heart a thousand times over; he's not sure he has much of one anyways.

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

Not with a bang but a whimper.

Poem in italics by T.S. Eliot

This is my first fanfiction in a LONG time, and my first for this show, so please be nice! I'm not a great writer, but this has been haunting me and I needed to get it out of my system.

I'm barely in this fandom, but that man has me in a chokehold. A self-sabatoging character who thinks he doesn't deserve anything good?I can relate to that. Again, I'm really only a casual watcher, so if I've gotten any details wrong, please feel free to let me know (gently please!)

Also, I do have an ao3 account! I've never posted on it, I'm mostly only there to read, but if even 1 person likes this enough to want it put on there for some reason, let me know and I'd be happy to do so! I'm also thinking about adding more -possibly Buck's POV, maybe even a make-up. We will see if anyone even bothers to read this one lmao.

[comicarc]

𝐈 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 (𝐈𝐗)

previous • next

"A lonely moon craving for the radiant sun." In which a certain girl catches the attention of a prideful billionaire playboy as they both attempt to find their way in the world. (I haven't seen many fics explore Bruce in his formative years, so I thought I'd share my take on them, of course with romance.)

wc: 2201

A/N: "The future influences the present just as much as the past." -Friedrich Nietzsche

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“That’s it! That’s where you’re gonna stop?” The little boy groaned, resting his head on y/n’s lap as she bandaged his hand. 

“Why of course, you’ll hear the rest when you’re ready. For now, mull over my words for there is always something to learn from history.” She smiled looking into the eyes of the little boy with a motherly affection. 

“What’s there to learn? Bruce Wayne’s selfish, Harvey Dent is ignorant and you–you’re just plain depressed.” The boy rolled his eyes, annoyed that he’d wasted half his night listening to a story without a climax. 

y/n’s smile widened as she chuckled. “I thought you were smart, little robin. No one ever tells you that bravery feels like fear. And it’s easy to be brave when you’d rather die than give up.” She combed a hand through his hair, humming some lullaby. 

As she tied the end of the bandage, securing it, the little boy sat up and leaned against her shoulder as he clarified, “So you’re saying I should fight till my last breath to get what I want? To be stubborn.”

“As hell. Or else the world will devour you, and you’ll be left dreaming.” She finished. 

The boy turned his head to face her, expecting the same gesture she gave him every night. Placing a kiss atop his forehead, y/n rose from her couch to prod at the flame burning in the fireplace with a poker. The boy watched her, unwilling to move from his seat. 

He loved y/n’s humble abode, for it overlooked Gotham in such a way that the city looked like a dream. From the window, he could see a sea of lights below and skyscrapers decorating the skyline in the distance. It was a picturesque view.

Not to mention her apartment was the perfect size, not too small that it felt claustrophobic but not too large that it felt artificial. There was a coziness to it that he never felt in his “real” home. The kind he craved to bathe in till the end of time. 

“Can I stay tonight?” He asked for the umpteenth time in the past week. He knew what she would say, that she truly wished she could but she couldn’t deprive his father of such a wonderful presence.

“Y’know what, why not? It’s the holidays, and I’m sure Batman wouldn’t mind you having a little time to yourself.”

“Really? Yes!” The boy exclaimed. Immediately he was on his feet, running to the kitchen for a midnight snack. As soon as he had his food in a bowl the boy ran back and turned on the TV above the fireplace, setting it the movie Home Alone. He cozied himself into the couch, cuddling into a blanket he found nearby, and patted at the empty space beside him, indicating for y/n to join him. 

She told him she needed a moment outside before joining him for the night. Setting the poker down in its mantle, y/n walked out to the patio, sliding the door behind her to ensure that the little boy would be none the wiser to what was happening outside. 

She took slow steps to the edge, leaning over the railing with her hands folded atop it. “I let him stay tonight. I hope you don’t mind,” she spoke, her words fading into the crisp air. The moon shone down as if illuminating just her. The rest of her patio was shrouded in a darkness so deep, that even a bat couldn’t see through it. 

That’s where he remained hiding as he answered, “Robin needs the break. Make sure he comes back in the morning.” He hesitated before he took a step into the light. Though he still remained out of her sight, she could feel the warmth exuding from his armored body. Standing on her feet again, she moved a step away from the rail until her back was only inches from his body.

“Batman, what a peculiar name. However, did you come up with it?” She began, hoping she’d elicit a reaction. There was a familiarity to his voice that she couldn’t quite place due to the modifier. 

Met with silence, she attempted conversation again. “It’s a beautiful, silent night. I remember a time when Gotham’s symphony was especially deafening during this hour. Why remain in the dark when you can bask in the light of the city’s new hope?”

“Darkness shields just as much as it threatens.” He confessed, his voice wavering ever so slightly.

“And light guides us home, to happiness.” She responded. She wished she could whip herself around, to face the dark knight in all his glory, but she knew he’d have left by now. He was never one to stay too long, but at least his fleeting presence made his company all the more precious.

Alone on the patio, y/n headed inside, back to the Bat’s protege: Robin. Inside, the eager little boy ignored the movie, and began to question y/n’s story yet again. “Please, please, please tell me more. What happened with the case, what happened after they found out where you lived?”

“Well, Falcone’s still serving time in jail, so to say we succeeded would be an understatement. Talking about the trial would be a bore, especially since most of it is public record. As for the boys, well nothing really changed. Harvey hung out more and more with Gilda until they fell in love when they went to Harvard. Bruce went to Yale and essentially dropped off the face of the Earth until he returned to Gotham last year.”

“Ok, if you don’t want to talk about them then I get it. But what about Dr. Crane, what happened with him?” Robin persisted. 

“That’s for another night, alright? Patience is a virtue you really should practice.” She chuckled, moving one of the couch pillows under his head as he slouched into a sleeping position. She patted his side until the boy forgot all about the movie and fell into a restful sleep beside her.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A year prior, Bruce Wayne had come back to Gotham. Really, it was more like he had snuck in. For months he remained a recluse, until one day he threw the biggest gala Gotham had ever seen at his mansion. He called it his homecoming ball, but y/n believed it was merely a distraction. The Bruce she knew always used such extravagance as a facade, but there was always the fact that he’d been gone from Gotham for nine years. He’d most likely have changed in that time as any man would. 

By then, at the ripe age of 27, y/n herself had earned her spot in the Gotham Gazette. Having earned a few awards for her writing debut about her involvement in the unraveling of Falcone’s drug operation all those years ago, y/n was able to go to Gotham University and eventually Columbia to earn her degrees in journalism. From there, she was hand-picked by the Gazette to work for them as a full-time writer.

Batman had come into the picture just a month after Bruce’s return, but his presence was so rare that at first, he seemed a myth. Even now, a year later some people still doubt his existence. The only real proof people have is Robin, who showed up in his colorful spandex three months ago. y/n found the little bird in a back alley near her home on his first day, and ever since she’s been helping stitch him up or give him company on the nights he patrols as a sidekick to Batman.

Sending off Robin in the morning, y/n had the remainder of the day to prepare herself to attend another Wayne gala for Christmas. It was a dreaded assignment, for she had wanted to keep herself at a distance from any Wayne, but things don’t always work out the way we want them to.

Before heading to the mall to buy a nice gown for the black tie event, y/n headed to Gotham Academy. She was to meet an old friend at the now-abandoned stands that faced the racetrack. The place where it all began. 

Seated on the stands, she shielded herself from the winter wind with the large men’s coat she wore. Its color had faded with time, but the warmth it trapped was still able to keep her comfortable. It was large on her, but that made it all the more comforting for it engulfed her in a tender embrace. 

A tall, lean figure approached her, with his hood up and a mask to conceal his face. He was muscular, an attribute evident by the way the jacket comfortably hugged his figure. There was a noticeable bulge at his side in the shape of a sidearm, but it was tucked away snugly enough to reassure y/n that it wouldn’t be needed. 

The man took slow steps toward her as he took in y/n’s still form in all its glory under the morning sun. She looked absolutely angelic, with golden rays illuminating her glorious face. The man was utterly entranced by how beautiful she looked, despite the apparent lack of effort she had put into her appearance. 

“Harvey, dashing as always.” She broke the silence with her honey-laced voice.

He smiled as he took off his mask. Sitting beside her he replied, “y/n, lovely as ever. Merry Christmas.”

“I have the file you want, but I can’t imagine why you couldn’t get it yourself.”

“I may be a man scorned, but Two-Face still has his limits.” That may have been true for many things, but this circumstance was different. He wanted an excuse to see her again.

After the accident, Gilda had left him, his public image was ruined, and his mind was in shambles. Yet, y/n remained at his side, as his sole supporter. Even when he changed, when his pain led him down the dark path of criminality, y/n continued to stay in contact with him. He knew she hoped she could change him for the better, but they both knew it was a misplaced expectancy. 

She deserved the world for the kind of woman she was, and that was the very reason Harvey refused to make his advance. He couldn’t give her the heaven she deserved. He feared no man could. But Gotham had recently been put under new authority with all the Arkham inmates running around like they owned the place. And with vigilantism becoming a new trend, who knew what divinity may enter the equation to whisk her away for good? 

Handing Harvey the file, y/n stood. Quirking an eyebrow at her sudden departure he remarked, “Is that my coat?”

With her back to him, she answered, “Merry Christmas, Apollo.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

At last, she returned to her humble abode. At the entrance, there lay a large cardboard box marked with her address. At first glance, there was no sender, no note, nothing that eased y/n’s suspicions. y/n was hesitant to pick it up and bring it inside with nothing to reassure her that it was safe to open.

But a nagging instinct allowed her to let go of her precaution and do just that. Once inside, she set it down on the nearest counter, grabbed an exacto knife, and carefully sliced through the edges of the packaging. The box opened to reveal a note engraved in gold letters, reading, “Make a proper debut in high society with a bang. Sincerely, An Old Friend” 

As she read the sign-off signature, a few people came to mind. Harvey was the first suspect, having been graced by his longing niceties in the hours prior. But he wouldn’t have made such a blatant gesture for no reason; at the very least, he would have made it abundantly clear he was the sender. 

Selina could have simply bought a beautiful piece and sent it to her when they went out together. But there was no such occasion they had planned soon, and as far as y/n knew, Selina didn't know she was attending this gala. 

Another name came to mind, and this one was much more plausible. A girl she once knew, with a habit of making grand entrances had a knack for extravagance that could rival Selina’s. Something was definitely going to happen tonight, and she’d be the first reporter on the scene to break the story. How thoughtful.

Wearing the item inside the box, the flowing, midnight-blue silk dress, shimmered subtly under the soft lighting of her apartment. It hugged her curves with a delicate grace, its plunging neckline framed by delicate trim that cascaded down the bodice, ending in a graceful train that pooled around her ankles, leaving a trail of elegance with each step. The dress made her feel as though she’d finally fit in, no longer a weed in a field of roses. Taking her press pass and invitation in her clutch and wearing her simple silver heels, y/n was out her door again hailing for a cab on the street to make her way to the Manor. 

˖ ࣪🦇𓆰♡𓆪🦇ִ ࣪⋆

taglist: @earth-to-name

[lucid-loves]

Feelings Reforged

Imagine: March carrying you home after you fall from a fever.

“Earth to Y/n? You shouldn’t space out while handling the forge.” March began to chastise like he always did, but you knew it came from his worry for you. You were zoning out a little too much for someone that was handling hot coals. 

“Huh? Oh, sorry. . .” You simply apologized, a rosy blush creeping along your soft cheeks. 

March quirked a thick brow, but didn’t question you further. It was nice that he tended to mind his own business in moments where it counted. It wasn’t like you were ready to confess your feelings for him just yet. 

Besides thinking about how handsome he looked next to the light of the fire though, you were also starting to feel a little burnt out. You’ve been toiling away at the farm for a good two years without a real break trying to prove him wrong, that you were here in Mistria to stay, and to get money in your pockets.

Everyone was busy seemingly all the time, but even the hardest workers in town found the time to relax at the beach or at Juniper’s bathhouse. Even Adeline, the workaholic that she is, managed to fit in quality time with the girls. 

There was a time where March noticed just how busy you were each week too during a Friday night at the Inn. Called it out too with a bright smile and invite you to the seat next to him. Yeah, he was drunk at the time, but he still noticed.

You hoped that he didn’t notice how you subtly swayed your head in lightheadedness. 

“Pay attention. We don’t want any accidents.” He reprimanded again, quickly getting annoyed with how distracted you seemed. You asked him to teach you how to make more metal works. He had to make time out of his busy schedule for you. And now you were daydreaming? He could be getting through another order of nails by now.

“Sorry, March. Can you show me again?” You heavily sighed, placing your shaky hands in your pockets. 

March gave an exasperated huff and struck his heavy hammer down on a molten shield, molding it to the perfect shape. “Strike like this. See how flat I made it? Not too thin, but not too thick either. You don’t want it to snap on impact or be too heavy to hold. Got it now?”

You nodded lazily and reached for the shield, your vision getting dark. A strong grip grasped your hands roughly before you could make contact with the project. “You idiot! The shield is like lava! Are you trying to burn your hands off?! Grab the forceps!”

An attempt at an apology was made, but it came out slurred as you caved into the fever. March stiffened as your body leaned into his, your eyes closing in sudden exhaustion. The feeling of his bare shoulder on your head felt cool to the touch, despite the both of you being near the hot forge. The blacksmith noticed that stark contrast in body temperature.

“H-Hey! Y/n?!” He held you up, once furrowed brows in annoyance now morphing into worry. He held you steady against him, feeling just how hot your forehead burned against his hand. 

March looked around the area, hoping that someone from the small town was around to help out. When he noticed no one, he clicked his tongue and stepped up. Thanks to strength built by years of blacksmithery, you were light as a feather as he began to carry you home.

As he walked with you in his arms, he thought about how he should’ve noticed your fever sooner. You were zoning out a lot more than usual. You didn’t seem as energetic either, not like how you were every day. Now that he thought about it, he’s never really seen you not working.

And he thought he knew you better than this.

“You should take better care of yourself.” He scolded at your unconscious body. You stirred a bit in response, the side of your head nuzzling closer to March’s skin. He knew that you probably didn’t know that you were doing it, but he couldn’t help but start to redden. His ears were burning so hot that he could be the one with the fever.

The door to your house was unlocked, the town being safe enough to warrant such carelessness. March considered dropping you on the couch, but then decided that you would be more comfortable on the bed. Once you were settled down and tucked in, he took a moment to breathe from the long walk.

You were still warm and asleep, clearly sick from all your hard work. March bit his lip as he noticed how nicely decorated the house was. How organized and full your fields were with produce. He remembered when this land was nothing but a rotting home and overgrown grass.

He was wrong about you. 

March brushed back some hair sticking to your sweaty face. “Sorry, Y/n. You’ve worked hard. I’m proud of you.” 

He blushed hard at his own words, his heart going a mile a minute. More of your features began to come to light as he watched you sleep. How nice your lashes looked. How perfect your face contoured. 

He’s tried so hard to push those invasive feelings down since the moment he met you. March didn’t want to have false hope about you. He didn’t want to get hurt. Yet, you have consistently proven yourself every single day.

Damn it, he was in love with you. 

To distract himself from his feelings, he went to your kitchen to begin cooking. You were going to need something gentle on your body once you wake up. 

[witchyvibes91]

Slytherin Boys Break-up Blurb: Part 2

Part 2 of the break-up series. This one is filled with groveling and begging for forgiveness. Enjoy little stars.

Mattheo: You walked through the common room, seeing your friends smiling. 

“What’s gotten into you three?” You asked as you made your way to your dorm. 

As soon as you opened it, the heavy scent of flowers hit your nose. They were everywhere. Your favorite flower filled the room. There were petals all over the floor. Candles that casted a yellow-ish glow. And right in the middle was none other than Mattheo Riddle. 

“I am so, so sorry.” He finally said as you looked at him. You could hear his voice cracking as he spoke. It had been a rough last month without Matt but you weren’t sure you were ready to forgive him. Not yet anyways.

“Matt…” Your  voice trailed off. You were unable to form words as you looked at the transformed room. This was something Matt always did to you, take your words away. In both good and bad ways. Perhaps this was a good way.

“I know. I know I messed up and I know I don’t deserve you, believe me. But please. Please let me at least try to make it up to you, Princess.” Matt pleaded, something you never thought you’d hear before. 

You were staring into eyes when you finally noticed the little box he was holding. A red one with a white bow on it. He held it up and you walked closer to open it. Your hands shook a bit as you undid the bow and opened the box. Inside was the most beautiful bracelet with your birthstone set right in the middle.

“You know you can’t just buy me back.” You finally managed to say. Matt smirked, the smallest chuckle escaping his lips as he stared at you.

“And I’d never expect to. This is just the first of my many apologies to come. Because you, Princess, you deserve this. You deserve this and so much more.” Matt explained through that cracked tone once again. But this time it wasn’t just a crack. It was a full break. Tears sat on his waterline and you could feel your heart breaking.

You weren’t quite ready to forgive him but this was a good start. You placed one hand on his cheek as you kissed him softly, knowing that you’d give him that second chance. And you would be forever grateful that you did.

Theo: It had been weeks since your fight with Theo. Usually he apologized right away but this time you haven't heard from him. Maybe you two really were done.

You were walking through the castle when your phone went off. A text from Theo telling you to meet him in the forest. You almost didn’t but something told you to go. 

As you walked through the dense area, you saw him leaning against your favorite tree. It was the large one right next to the babbling creek. He had the faintest smile on his face as you approached him.

“What is it Theo?” You asked sternly and you saw how sad his eyes looked. There were dark circles under them. He wasn’t sleeping. You could tell.

“I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t get that stupid fucking fight off my mind.” Theo admitted after a minute of staring at you. He pointed to the tree, seeing the initials the two of you had carved into it months ago.

“I come back to this tree every day and I stare at those letters. I can’t do this, cara mia. I can’t be away from you. And I’m so fucking sorry I ever thought I could.” He admitted before looking back at you with the most solemn look on his face.

You could feel your heartbreaking listening to him. He hurt you. He let you walk out. Fuck. Maybe this was a bad idea. You shook your head as you looked at him.

“It’s too late, Theo.” You whispered as you started to talk away. You took two steps before you felt a hand on your wrist, pulling you back in. 

Your eyes shot up to his blue ones. They stared into your soul, begging for forgiveness. 

“I let you go once. I won’t ever make that mistake again.” He said firmly. He was pleading through his eyes, hoping you would just give him a second chance. He didn’t deserve it. Fuck. He really fucking didn’t deserve it. But you missed him. You missed him more than you cared to admit.

“Please, tesoro. Please just…just sit here with me?” 

And you did. You spent the rest of the evening sitting with Theo against that tree, yours and his initials carved just above your heads. Maybe he didn’t deserve this but you didn’t mind letting him talk, explain his side. Apologize. And god did he apologize. He did nothing but apologize over and over again. Maybe he’d get that second chance after all. 

Lorenzo: You still couldn’t believe the way Enzo had acted. It was months later when you finally saw him for the first time. And he looked awful. He wasn’t eating. Wasn’t taking care of himself.

Good.

You didn’t even look his way as you walked past him. The closer you got, the faster your heart started to beat. The pain and anger started to bubble inside of you once more.

“Y/n, wait!” Enzo called out to you but you didn’t stop. You kept pushing forward as your shoes squished across the courtyard grass. 

“Stop! Please, I just want to talk!” He shouted once more, now following behind you. You could feel everything boiling inside of you, not sure if you could hold it back anymore.

“Come on! Just stop!” 

That was it. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You stopped but not because he asked. You stopped because if you didn’t, you were going to boil over and explode. You turned to face him, your hair spinning around you as you whipped around quickly.

“No! You don’t deserve a conversation. You don’t deserve my attention. After what you did, Enzo? Seriously? You deserve nothing but the scum on my shoe.” You shouted at him, much to his surprise.

There was a small moment, a moment where the two of you would stare at one another with a longing–a longing for something that has now been lost into the past. 

After a few moments, you finally turned and walked away. Lorenzo watched you leave. He watched you until there was no you left. His heart was breaking, knowing he’d messed up–knowing he had lost you forever. 

Over the next few months, you received the most lavish gifts, the most detailed letters. Every day, Enzo sent you something. Even if the two of you never spoke again, it made him happy knowing he was still in your life somehow. And you enjoyed it, even if you didn’t want to admit it, you enjoyed how much he was wanting to earn your trust back. And maybe, just maybe, he would.

Draco: It had been five weeks since your break-up with Draco. The pain was still raw but you were trying your best to push through. As you made your way to your next class, you realized you hadn’t seen him much and you wondered why.

You walked into the classroom, heading to your desk before noticing a book on it. It wasn’t a book you recognized. You picked it up, feeling the black leather in your hands and noticing the pages had gold edges to them. Beside the book was a small piece of paper that had your name on it, noting the book was for you.

You opened the book and recognized the handwriting immediately. Draco. A part of you thought maybe you wouldn’t read this, shouldn’t read this. It would only hurt. 

That didn’t stop you. You started to read the words, slowly realizing what this was. The first page detailed Draco’s upbringing. His relationship with his father, his mother. All of it.

You moved on to the next one and with each new page realized he was opening up to you. Maybe he couldn’t say it, but he could write it. 

You read it until you reached the end, noticing how only half the journal was full. There were still plenty of blank pages left but each one was numbered as if it was continuing. 

“I see you’ve found my gift.” Draco called out behind you. You turned around quickly, seeing him standing there with his hands tucked into his pockets.

“Draco, what is this?” You asked, still slightly confused why he would give you something like this. He walked a bit closer, his eyes completely locked with yours with each movement.

“It’s me opening up in the best way I know you.” He stalked a bit more forward before stopping right in front of you, “You deserve that, Y/n. I was an idiot for not realizing that earlier and I’m sorry.” 

An apology from Draco Malfoy? You never thought you’d see the day.

You glanced back down at the book, flipping it in your hand before opening up to the blank pages. Draco pointed to it, the silver ring with his family crest in the middle shimmering as his finger touched the empty page.

“And the blank pages? That’s for us to use together. For our new memories. We’ll write in it every day if that’s what it takes to earn you back.” He said softly before finally moving his finger from the page.

“Draco…” You said softly, closing the book. The effort was sweet, the gesture appreciated. But you were nervous. Was this all for show? 

“I promise. I will be as open with you as I can, even if it’s through letters.” He said softly, taking his hand and wrapping it through your hair. 

How could you resist this? You weren’t going to fully cave for him just yet but this was a step. It was a very welcomed first step to getting back to what you once were.

Blaise: You hadn’t heard from Blaise in a few weeks. In fact, you hadn’t seen him at all which was shocking. Blaise was everywhere all the time or so it seemed. Not seeing him on campus was something that should cause concern.

You were walking back to your dorm one day when you saw smiling faces and little giggles in the common room. What the hell was everyone so happy about? You opened your door and there in the room stood Blaise. 

He was standing in pajamas and holding your favorite flowers. All of your favorite snacks covered the bed. Soft music played from the speaker. Your eyes went a bit wide as you tried to take everything in.

“Blaise? What the hell are you doing here?” You asked through a bit of shock. You were trying to process what was happening but it was almost too much. Almost.

“Apologizing. I’m so sorry for what I did. And I know, I know I might have lost you forever but, ma, even if I just have you as a friend that’s good enough for me.” Blaise spoke softly. You could feel your heart racing with every word.

There was something about this moment that made you think, perhaps, you would remember it forever. It wasn’t anything big or special but it was important. To you, it was important. 

“Blaise…” You said softly, letting your voice drop off at the end of his name. His eyes searched yours and he seemed to wonder if you would take his gesture.

“We can spend all day in here. Watching movies. Talking. Eating every snack the house elves could manage to find for us.” He said as his voice ran off into the smallest chuckle.

Always joking, that was Blaise. Even in the most serious moments, he could make you laugh. It was something you always enjoyed about him. He took a small step forward, still holding the flowers in his hand.

“All I need is you. No parties. No outside world. Just you. So, what do you say, ma?” He asked quietly. You thought about it but there wasn’t much to think about. What he did was wrong, yes, but this? This was a great start to making up for it. 

You walked towards him, taking the flowers and giving them a small sniff before setting them on the nearby desk. Your eyes went back to his, those dark eyes that only seemed to sparkle when you were around. 

“A day in here with you sounds perfect.” You whispered before feeling him wrap his arms around you in a hug. You hugged him back and as you did, you felt as if your life problems all seemed to disappear.

You would spend the entire rest of the day with Blaise, talking and laughing about everything possible. It wasn’t a confirmation of a restart of your relationship but it was a push forward. And Blaise loved it. Even if it was just the tiniest bit of attention from you, he loved it because, at the end of the day, you truly were the only thing that mattered. 

Regulus: It had been a year since you had heard from Regulus. There was a part of you that perhaps thought you would never hear from him again. There were rumors he died. Rumors he ran away. Rumors he joined the dark side, fighting for Voldemort. But you couldn’t believe any of it.

You knew Regulus. He would never do that. If he had joined the dark side, it was only to fight from the inside. The worst rumor was the one that he died. You couldn’t bear that thought. You would have to see him, see his dead body before you accepted that truth.

You were walking back from Hogsmeade one afternoon when you got caught in the rain. You were rushing, trying to make it back to the castle when suddenly you heard your name called out.

The voice was familiar, one that sent waves through your body. You turned around to see Regulus standing in the rain, drenched. His long and curly hair was plastered to his forehead as he stared at you.

“Reg?” You asked, almost not believing it was real.

“I’m sorry.” He replied through the rain. Your heart was racing, there was a building of tension between the two of you as you stared at him.

“I’m sorry I left you. But it’s over. It’s done.” He explained and your mind started to race with a million thoughts. He did it. He won. And he came back for you. Just for you.

You dropped your books, rushing up to him and jumping in his arms. His arms wrapped around you tightly, holding you close before he pressed his lips to yours in a heated and passionate kiss. 

“Don’t you dare ever leave me again, Regulus Black.” You said as you broke the kiss but stayed in his arms. He looked down at you with the softest smile on his face. 

“I won’t.” 

And he wouldn’t. He’d never leave your side. For as long as the two of you lived, he’d be right there. For you were the only important thing in Regulus’ life.

[fvrtvne]

i'm not really sure why you rp isabela as avoidant to romance when she's clearly available to romance in game?

I'd have recommended coming off of anon so I could DM you about this privately, but no, you're choosing to waste my time with this ask.

Really? Really?

I need you to step back for a moment and ruminate on these questions ;

) Do you remember Dragon age 2?

) Did you just mindlessly mash through dialogue because hhrrrr pirate lady hot sexy hgghhdhghsouhhhh?

) Did you even play Dragon Age 2?

Look, I get it's hard to sit back and remember every piece of dialogue, but if you even remotely cared about Isabela as a character / actually cared enough about the game to listen to her dialogue then you'd understand that she does NOT want to be in a relationship when you first meet her.

Beyond maybe, idk, looking over her wiki, what vibes beyond finalizing your romance with her gave you the impression that she was going to throw her arms around you and run off into the sunset? Where in any of the story, even through bits of dialogue, does Isabela ever hint that she's ready to settle into a committed relationship?

Here, let me grab one of my favorite (not actually) excerpts from her wiki page; (which, btw, since we're here, google's free) ;

But Madam Hari grew disillusioned with the life of a fraud and eventually she converted to the Qun to give meaning to her life. She sold Isabela into marriage with a business associate of the Antivan Crows, Luis, when she refused to convert. While Isabela offers numerous interpretations of the bargain her mother struck when she was given away, she is noted as having told Varric Tethras once that her mother gave her away in exchange for nothing more than the promise that she would be looked after. Luis took her to Antiva City and they were married three weeks later, just shy of Isabela's nineteenth birthday.

Alright, cool, hoping you digested that, because I'm gonna go ahead and link this image that accompanies that entry.

Does this look like someone who's happy with the prospect of marriage? Does this look like someone who isn't traumatized by a decision made without her consent?

I know this bit was hidden behind comics for like maybe a month (year? idk) after it was published, but for fucks sake, it's been on something as accessible as wikipedia since (and i spent over 20 minutes scrolling) March 15th 2013.

Consider, maybe even momentarily, that Isabela perhaps doesn't want to relive that trauma, or perhaps doesn't even want to come close to feeling as trapped as she did when her mother had made a life-altering decision without a SHRED of concern for her daughters wellbeing.

Put yourself in her shoes for a moment, yeah?

She spends the next 8-10(ish) years of her life pretty much coping with this by never settling down, even in terms of location. Through her own dialogue, even being stuck in one place for too long is almost too much for her.

If that isn't enough, please, for the love of god, consider additional dialogue she provides in the game.

You know who shares a similar trauma to her? Fenris. You know who she has a healthy and casual relationship with because neither of them are looking for tied down commitment without some sincerity and legwork due to their similar feelings of helplessness? Fenris. You know what kind of blog you wouldn't send an ask like this to bc you're very clearly hung up on Isabela? Fenris.

Yeah, they fuck nasty, but even in the mission you do to even recruit her, Isabela proves time and time again (until you ofc complete her romance mission) that she's violently uninterested in a deeper connection beyond casually fucking. (In her own words; "it was just rutting".)

Sure, you can romance her and have a semblance of some kind of relationship with her, but you, as Hawke, (provided you're romancing her), spend SEVEN TO EIGHT YEARS building foundations of TRUST and COMFORT to prove to her that you're capable of not only understanding her past, but helping her through it. You're proving that YOU can stand beside her when shit goes south, and that you're not going to prevent any attempt she makes to claw toward her own self liberation.

I've been writing Isabela for close to 12 years now, and I know the ins and outs of her character better than I know half of my college coursework.

Anyhow, replay Dragon Age 2, learn to use google (it's free! as a reminder!), and maybe order yourself a size 24 loafer to match your clown-car? Idk. Hold this for me.

[somegrumpynerd]

Time for a new toy!

Seems like skateboard is the clear winner! (Doing it a little early this week since I didnt mean to leave it so late last time, hopefully there isn't suddenly hundreds of votes for something else after I post this lol) Tomorrow there will be a skateboard in the garden :D

So now it's time to decide for next week,

("Nothing" is an option that will still yield a cat, it's not just there like a trick lol)

[pardonmydelays]

this saturday was so fun!!!

[icewindandboringhorror]

Apparently I can meet my goal of roughly 400,000 words in 6 months if I just somehow write at least 2,200 words a day ghbjh... Almost 2,500 today... huzzah...

[ialwaysknewyouwerepunk]

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[josecariohca]

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