#idk much about these things in the end really

[funny-friends]

wanted to try to design my own versions of nagisa and honoka as adults before if/when they come out with something 100% canon (plus some bonus sketches featuring the quasi-canon designs from here). sillies

(design notes and stuff under tha break)

-theyre both anywhere from 25-30something (closer to the latter) here

-nagisa is a gym teacher or something, honoka has a phd but idk what she does specifically because i dont know anything about science

(idr what meppipples phone forms look like and i dont want to look it up rn)

-nagisa's horrible mullet can be drawn tucked into the back of her jacket to resemble her usual short hair (pictured)

-i think she'd be the cool gym teacher that all the students really like. not a bad thing to be said about her. she enjoys it but she doesn't exactly feel like its like her calling and she kind of feels like she's just meandering through life for a bit

-honoka's outfit is meant to give 'eccentric professor' vibes. i was torn between giving her pants or a skirt and ended up settling on pants, but i added the sketch of the alternative. i think she probably would be fine switching between either.

-after much deliberation she ultimately did (reluctantly) decide to leave to study abroad after high school and she was like 'this'll be fine' but leaving nagisa and the rest of her friends kind of left her feeling empty inside so she moved back to japan as soon as possible

ok thats about it. thanks for reading. i care about them very much

[spatialwave]

Jayce Talis as a Husband & Father | Headcanons

➸ ask: "hiii i was wondering if you could do post s2 arcane headcanons for Jayce?? like jayce x wife!reader that have a newborn baby??" ➸ pairing: jayce talis x wife!reader ➸ word count: 923 words ➸ tags: mdni! sfw, fluff, comfort, mentions of jayce���s trauma, pregnancy, headcanons, childbirth, parenthood, canon-divergent ending. ➸ notes: i went really poetic with this idk why. also this definitely heightened my already terrible baby fever……. please for the love of god send me more asks about girldad jayce, i am begging you. i love writing these.

When you met Jayce Talis, you fell madly in love with him almost instantly—as did he with you. Within the first six months of your relationship, he proposed to you with a ring that he’d smithed himself, adorned with a hextech gemstone that sparkled unlike anything you’d ever seen. Of course, you said yes… and moved in within that same week.

Living with Jayce Talis meant dealing with the aftershocks of what he’d gone through during his time in the arcane and subsequent war. With a permanently injured leg and mental wounds that left him cursed by night terrors, you were they by his side to help him overcome his past. You were the rock he hadn’t known he needed, the one who encouraged him to keep fixing what he’d broken (and not without his partner, Viktor.)

Although he’d gone through hell and back, he found joy and happiness in you again. No longer was he filled with anger and guilt for allowing his naivety to take control of what was right—all Jayce wanted was to be happy. With you. 

When you found out you were pregnant, Jayce was over the moon, excited and horribly nervous. He constantly worried whether or not he’d be a good father, and the absence of his own in his life made him uncertain. He would spend countless evenings with his mother, asking her hundreds of questions about parenthood, which either made it better or worse depending on what he wanted to know.

However, the worry washed away when he held his little girl in his arms—weighing shy of six pounds and so tiny in his arms. It was a beautiful sight, a rugged man with messy hair, scarred arms, and calloused hands holding the love of his life.

Your daughter brings out a side of Jayce that Viktor told you is reminiscent of his life when they first met all those years ago: gentle, curious, nervous and much too excited. 

Jayce is messy and clumsy in his parenting, learning as he goes, but he is so dedicated. He’s used to being covered in stains but no longer in oil and soot from his work. Now it’s spit-up and dried milk… among other things. And to you, he’s never looked sexier than when he’s a mess.

Even though he’s still a councillor and working with Viktor on restabilizing hextech, he makes time for his family. The days of late-night tinkering in the lab or long council meetings are in the past because there is nothing more important to him than you two.

He is a very overprotective dad, constantly worrying about the little things and often getting sleepless nights because he checks on her one too many times to make sure sleeping soundly in her crib. He baby-proofs your home with everything he can make—doorstops, locks for the cabinets and removing any of his work from his home to the lab so there are no accidents. It’s cute, but considering that your daughter is shy of two months old, the baby-proofing tends to get in the way, but you let him. ‘Father knows best’ is a term he coins and uses, much to your annoyance.

Jayce always splits the tasks of parenting between you two but is never opposed to taking on more than you if you need the rest. As you slowly transition to include bottle feeding in your routine, he takes on nightly shifts for you. You find him asleep a few times, sitting up against the crib with a blanket covered in spit-up draped over his shoulder and an empty bottle in his hand.

He is a sentimental man. He makes a locket that he wears as a necklace every day, tucked beneath his clothing, and shows it off to anyone that he can—a photo of you and your daughter inside it.

You swear you’ve never been more in love with Jayce than you are now. A loving father and husband who doesn’t let his new role as a parent overshadow his love for you.

He’s just as romantic as he was the first time he took you on a date. A month after you gave birth and were far too stir-crazy to be at home any longer, Ximena watched your daughter, and he took you out on a date that reminded you of simpler times. Showering you with gentle touches and kisses that set your heart on fire and reignited your passion.

Jayce noticed how your confidence dropped since the pregnancy. He finds you looking at yourself in the mirror and trying to love the body that grew your daughter, hands over your still-rounded stomach and tracing the stretchmarks. Changes that look so large in your eyes go unnoticed by him, and he makes sure to cherish your body as a reminder that his love for you hasn’t changed.

Every night in bed, he kisses your stomach, your hips, your thighs—peppering your body with kisses and massaging you as he worships your strength and beauty, silently thanking you for bringing your daughter into the world. 

As with any relationship, there are good days and bad. Some days go so smoothly that you wonder if you both were naturally inclined to be the perfect parents. Then come the days when all you can do is argue, overcome with the stress, fears and worries of marriage and parenthood.

But you make it through because to be loved by Jayce Talis is to feel love unlike anything you have experienced before, and that is worth the hardships.

[urmum-lovesme]

Angel Baby - Rafe Cameron x Kook!reader P7

pairing: Best Friend!Rafe Cameron x Kook!Best-Friend!reader

summary: Rafe and Reader have known each other since kindergarten, always side by side, the king and princess of Figure 8. So why now does he start feeling different towards her, when all she's ever been is his best friend?

a/n: MERRY CHRISTMAS MY SEXYS!!!!!!! For the holidays thought I'd ramp things up, Let's see, Y/n's a bit of a diva in this tbh, she's a little cheeky, get it ig she's just a girl after all. Midsummer's is well underway, little feature from the gangs group chat and y/n and rafe? well cue careless whisper and shut your eyes *wink wink nudge nudge*. I've never actually written smut before so cut me some slack but it's lowkey inspired by Chappell's 'Picture You' iygwim... Love you all so so so much, enjoy and have a great holiday!!!!!!!!!!

warnings: nsfw! smut, self pleasure (rafe), kinda pervy rafe? (idk idk don't shoot me) dismissive mother figure (y/n lowkey got mommy issues ngl), drugs, smoking, alcohol, driving under the influence, suggestive behaviour (y/n).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Midsummers was lingering around the corner, Y/n pacing at her front door anxiously as she waited for the courier, peering out the window by the door in hopes of sighting the van pulling up by the gates. If he didn’t show up in the next five minutes she was going to have a meltdown. Her phone ringing loudly made her jump, she looked down to the device vibrating on the counter as she picked it up the name ‘Rafey’ shining up at her,

“Hey Princess”

Rafe was sat in his room, lounging back on his bed, mindlessly staring up at the ceiling fan which was revolving in slow turns. It was Midsummers today, and he was feeling antsy, knowing he needed to get a gift for the girl, he wanted to get her the best gift possible, their little tradition starting when he got her a small bouquet of flowers a few years ago, he liked to say that it was her early birthday present, but it was truly just an excuse for him to get her something. Of course this year it had to be better, after the night a few days ago, after his.. realisation that the girl was more than just a ‘best-friend’, he knew the evening was his chance to talk to her.

If that's what you wanna call it then-

Y/n pressed the phone to her ear, her voice slightly breathless as she answered, “Hey, what’s up?”

“Where are you?” Rafe’s voice rang out over the phone, straight to the point as usual.

“At home. Waiting for the courier.” She started pacing again, one hand holding the phone, the other tugging nervously at the hem of her shirt as she started to ramble. 

“They’re late, and if they don’t show up soon, I’m screwed. I need this dress or I’m literally not coming. I’m not coming Rafe -do you know how embarrassing it would be to wear the sam-“

“Relax,” Rafe said, his tone steady but with the faintest hint of amusement. “You’re gonna give yourself a heart attack.”

“I can’t relax!” she snapped, her frustration spilling over. “Do you know how much this means? If I don’t have it ready by tonight-”

“I know, I know,” he interrupted, the girl was prone to overthinking, his voice softening. “It's a big deal. You’ve been talking about it non-stop for the past two weeks but freaking out isn’t going to help.”

Y/n groaned, slumping against the wall near her door. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one on the verge of public humiliation.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, then he spoke again, quieter this time.

“What’s really going on..?”

She hesitated, her fingers tightening around the phone. She opened her mouth to respond, but the sound of a car pulling up outside made her stop. Her head whipped toward the window, and she exhaled in relief.

“Courier’s here,” she said quickly. “I gotta go.”

“Y/n—” Rafe started, but she hung up before he could finish.

Whoopsies

Fucking brat

She shoved the phone into her pocket and opened the door, stepping out onto the porch as the courier climbed out of their van. The man carried a medium-sized box toward her, looking apologetic.

“Sorry for the delay,” the courier said, handing it over.

“It’s fine, thank you.” Y/n muttered, clutching the package to her chest like it was a lifeline. She watched the courier leave before heading back inside, shutting the door behind her. Her phone buzzed again, and she pulled it out to see another call from Rafe. She sighed, debating whether to answer. Part of her wanted to ignore it and focus on the package, but the other part of her knew Rafe wouldn’t just let it go -he was probably going to scold her for hanging up.

“Hi, again-”

“-Don’t ‘hi’ me,”

Rafe shot back. “You hung up on me. What’s going on?”

The girl sat down on the couch, setting the box beside her. She took a deep breath. “It’s just… a lot, okay? Everything has to be perfect tomorrow, and mom’s been on my back about it and I’m scared I’ll mess it up.” She trailed off, biting her lip.

“Right” Rafe spoke out, though she could already hear the knowing tone creeping into his voice.

“Shut up,” she mumbled, though her cheeks were already burning, she felt embarrassed she was so bothered,

Always overthinking

Just a dumb party

“Listen,” Rafe said, his tone turning serious again. “You’ve been stressing yourself out, I get it—you want to impress everyone.”

She didn’t answer, but the silence spoke volume.

“Y/n, you’re already... pretty amazing,” he continued. “You don’t need some big, grand gesture to prove that.” His words caught her off guard, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to respond. Finally, she whispered, 

“Thanks, Rafe.”

“Anytime,” he said lightly. “Now go open that box and finish whatever masterpiece you’re working on. And stop overthinking.”

“Okay, okay,” she said, a small smile creeping onto her face. “Talk later?”

“Always,” he replied before hanging up. Y/n set the phone down, staring at the box beside her. Rafe’s words lingered in her mind as she reached for it opening it, fingers sliding over the soft silky material. 

You better look good bitch

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The girl sat at her vanity, dabbing a final touch of highlighter onto her cheekbones, as her hands moved down to tighten the belt around her waist of the fuzzy robe she had on. The soft music filled the background as she admired the dress hanging nearby, waiting to be put on. She picked up her phone, her fingers tapped against the screen, nails causing little clicks to rise into the air of the room, mixing in with the soft sound of the music playing in the background. She typed to the group chat,

Princess. :  Lowkey might be late … 

She hesitated for a moment, then hit send, her phone buzzed almost immediately.

Young Rich & Sexy (1 unread message)

Rafey  :  u got ur whole life planned out to the minute tf u mean ur late 

Princess  :  Fashionably ofc 

Kels :  Why are you such a 

Kelc  :  Wait what is it she says 

T-man : Diva 

Kels  :  Yeah 

Kels  :  Why are you being a diva 

Princess  :  You guys are so dramatic. I’m just finishing up, okay?

T-man  :  Nah

Rafey  :  “finishing up” means ur still running around in a robe and slippers

Princess  :  It’s nothing!!!

Princess  :  Just running a little behind

Rafey  :  Oh, so you’re spiralling

T-man :  Got it

Kels  : How many outfit changes are we at? Three? Four?

T-man  :  Five Minimum

Princess  :  I hate all of you

Rafey  :  Big words. 

Rafey  :  Are you actually leaving, though?

Kels  :  Yeah, just get here before Rafe starts flirting with himself in the mirror

Rafey  :  Shut up

Rafey :  At least I don’t take an hour deciding on a bowtie like you

Kels  : ...

Kels  :  Fuck you 

T-man  :  Y/n, this is what happens when you’re not around to keep us in line

Princess  :  Are you guys drinking already? 

Rafe  :  Yes 

Kels  :  No 

T-man  :  Yes 

Kels  :  Oh 

Kels  :  Yes? 

Kels  :  BAHAHAHAH

Princess  : You’re all hopeless 

She grabbed her clutch and slipped her phone into it, giving herself one final once-over in the mirror before heading out the door of her bedroom to meet her parents downstairs. The group chat continued buzzing, but she ignored it, feet padding down the stairs to slip on her heels.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The driver eased the car to a smooth stop in front of the country club, a line of luxury cars wound behind them, each filled with kooks dressed to the nines, ready to celebrate… what was it again? 

Something about tradition, about status-  

She stepped out of the car, the setting sun warm against her skin as she adjusted her dress. She followed closely behind her parents, her father offering a polite nod to the valet while her mother stepped forward, her sharp eyes scanning the scene. Before the girl could take another step toward the entrance, her mother’s hand landed lightly on her arm, stopping her in her tracks. Y/N turned, surprised by the tight grip and the serious expression etched on her mother’s face.

“Wait,” Marie said in a hushed tone, her voice low but firm enough to cut through the murmurs of the other guests near the entrance. She straightened, smoothing an invisible crease on her dress before turning her full attention to her daughter. Y/N raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

Her mother’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I want to remind you to be on your best behaviour tonight.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I’m always on my best behaviour.”

“Don’t be clever,” her mother snapped quietly, her tone just sharp enough to sting. “This isn’t just some casual get-together. It’s important. People are watching, Y/N. People who matter.” She emphasised to the girl.

Classic

“Watching for what, exactly?” Y/N shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“To see if I chew with my mouth closed or if I trip on my heels?”

Her mother’s jaw tightened. “To see if you’re worthy of standing in this room. To see if you reflect the family we’ve worked hard to build. You think reputation doesn’t matter, but it does. It matters more than you realise.”

Y/N crossed her arms, her posture defiant. “Right, because it’s all about what they think, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” her mother said sharply, her eyes narrowing.

“You don’t have to like it, but you will respect it. Your father and I have done everything to ensure we’re respected. I won’t have you undo it with some thoughtless remark or petty argument.”

Y/N clenched her jaw, biting back the words bubbling on her tongue. She hated these conversations- hated being reminded that she wasn’t just herself but an extension of her family’s carefully constructed image. Her mother’s gaze softened slightly, but her voice remained steady. 

“This isn’t just about us, Y/N. One day, it will matter for you, too. You’ll see that eventually.”

Before Y/N could respond, her father’s voice cut through the tension. “Are we going in, or are we standing out here all night hmm?” The man could never notice the tension between the two women, he only saw his caring wife and sweet daughter. He leant down pressing a kiss to his wife’s cheek before wrapping his hand around Y/n’s waist pulling her towards him holding both women closely, “my girls.” 

Her mother straightened, her composure snapping back, she gave Y/N a once-over, her expression unreadable, before turning toward the entrance taking her husbands hand and walking with him. The man turned his head back shortly, sending a wink in the girls direction, her fathers action brought a small smile to her face. With a deep breath, she pushed her frustration from her mother comments aside and followed her parents into the club, the sound of clinking glasses and polite laughter greeting them as the door swung open.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The scent of champagne and roses hung heavy in the air as Y/N stepped further inside, clutching the stem of a freshly poured flute. She felt the weight of eyes on her as she moved through the room, the navy fabric skimmed her body, hugging her waist before cascading to the floor in soft ripples. It was all so curated, so polished, but Y/N barely registered the scene. Not until her eyes landed on Rafe. He was standing near the bar, leaning casually against the counter, a glass of whiskey in his hand. His sharp jawline caught the light as he turned slightly, his shoulders broad under the perfectly tailored suit jacket he wore. 

As if sensing her gaze, he looked up. Their eyes met for a split second, his brow raising slightly as a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

His grip on the glass tightened as he straightened subtly, his attention narrowing entirely on Y/N as she entered the room. She was impossible to miss, even in the crowd. The navy satin of her dress shimmered under the light. His eyes trailed upward, catching on the delicate V of the neckline that framed her collarbones, which glowed faintly with a soft sheen. Her hair, threaded with tiny white flowers, was swept back to reveal the curve of her neck. She looked…

Wow

His throat felt dry.

Rafe’s gaze followed her as she moved toward the bar, her posture poised but relaxed, her fingers curling around a champagne flute. As she made her way towards the boy, she noticed Topper and Kelce standing behind him, eyeing up a group of girls giggling by the tables.

“Surpriseeee.”

She sang out as she did a little spin in front of the boy, the silk swaying with her. “Only,” she looks over to the clock on the wall, “15 minutes late.”

His eyes ran down over her body as her movement, a little smirk on his face before he chuckled at her comment,

“15 minutes? Might as well have not showed” He teased her as he tilted his head, looking down at her once again.

“Asshole.” She mutters out shoving his shoulder slightly before she looked over at him. 

Damn

“You look good,” she spoke genuinely, her hand coming out to smooth down the blazer she’d shifted as she pushed him, she spoke playfully,

“handsome.”

He watched her as she smoothed the non-existent wrinkles in his blazer, his heart faltering at her compliment.

Handsome huh?

“You look….you look beautiful Y/n” He spoke out quietly, leaning in a little closer to her, his eyes roaming over her face.

A pink hue lifted to her cheeks at his words as her hand trailed down from his chest where she’d smoothed the blazer out, down his arm, to his hand, where her fingers brushed against his, a warm feeling settled in his stomach as her fingers danced over his hand.

“Thanks.” She spoke out quietly. Their moment was interrupted by the sound of a wolf whistle, Topper and Kelce stumbling over towards them as they looked Y/n. 

“Kook Princess does it again!”

“Looking good.”

Kelce and Topper speak out to her, both stepping forward, one placing a kiss on her cheek as the other wraps his arms around her in a hug.

“You look like you just stepped out of a magazine. Like, one of those fancy ones with the shiny covers.” Kelce started to babble, Topper following soon after, 

“Like the ones you collect what are they cal-“

“Vogue?” The girl asked amused smile on her face at their antics.

“Fuck yeah you look fresh out of Vogue.” Kelce spoke with a shake of his head.

Never heard that one before

“You two always know how to make a girl feel special.” She shot them a playful wink of her own, clearly unbothered by their banter.

“Well I’d hope all those hours of getting ready weren't for nothing.”

She speaks as she looks over to the group of girls huddling together, a hushed giggle breaking out as Topper and Kelce turn around to look at them, one of the girls lifting her hand and wiggling her fingers in a small wave. She spoke to the two boys as Rafe watched, leaning back against the bar counter,

“But you guys clean up well, heard you’ve been turning heads tonight..” 

“More like giving head..” 

The girls eyes widen as she lets out a loud laugh hand coming up to cover her mouth. 

“Are you being for real?” She whispers out in a hush as the boy next to her shrugs his shoulder in a nonchalant manner a smirk rising to his face, she pushes Kelce away from her, his hand dropping from her waist, 

“Ew you freak” she giggled as she shakes her head. 

The boys rambled to each other defensively as she shook her head rolling her eyes at them turning back to Rafe. Y/N reached up absentmindedly to adjust her necklace, a habit she couldn’t seem to shake, only to freeze when her fingers brushed against bare skin. Her brow furrowed as she searched for the familiar chain, but it wasn’t there. 

Shit

“I forgot my necklace.” She spoke out frown on her face.

Rafe, who had been watching her from the corner of his eye, leaned in with a teasing smile, the missing chain on her neck was one of the first thing’s he’d noticed when she’d gotten closer to him. 

"You wear it everyday? How’d you forget it tonight"

"I don’t know. I just got distracted.” She shrugged as hint of disappointment in her tone.

Rafe’s smile softened, and he raised an eyebrow. 

Perfect 

“Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”

“What is it?”

Y/N glanced up at him, surprised her head tilting slightly.

He flashed her a grin “C'mon," he said, gently taking her hand. 

"Follow me."

The girl slipped her hand into the crook of his arm which he held out for her as he led her away from the main group, stepping out from under the harsh lights and into the quieter side of the party, where the music felt distant and the crowd’s chatter muffled. She followed him curiously, the sound of her heels tapping against the floor drowned out by the thrum of the distant bass. When they reached a secluded corner, Rafe pulled away from her and slipped his hand into the inside pocket of his blazer. Y/N raised an eyebrow, her interest piqued. 

“Here.”

He pulled out a small, velvet blue box, holding it out to her.

“It’s your Midsummer’s present."

Y/N blinked, taken aback. "What?" She hadn't been expecting anything, especially not tonight.

What-

Rafe’s smile was genuine, one that didn’t appear often.

“Our tradition? We’ve been doing this for years, -yeah well I have I guess"

Y/N’s heart fluttered in her chest. A small gift- something thoughtful, not extravagant, but always meaningful. And somehow, she’d forgotten about it this year, she’d been so fussed with her dress and her mother, the boy being occupied with his family's business, she didn’t think Rafe would bother this year.

Her fingers brushed over the soft velvet as she took the box from him, her heart skipping a beat as she opened it. Inside lay a dainty, golden necklace, delicate but elegant, with a tiny heart-shaped pendant hanging from it. The pendant was engraved with their initials-

Y/N . R  

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at it for a moment, a soft smile tugging at her lips. The necklace was beautiful, but what really moved her was the thought behind it. It was a symbol of their years of friendship, of the connection they shared that went beyond just tradition.

"Rafe… this is…" She looked up at him, her voice soft with gratitude. “It’s perfect.”

“Yeah? You like it”

"I love it Rafe seriously.”

Y/N held the small velvet box in her hands, her fingers still lingering over the necklace inside. Rafe stood in front of her, a soft smile on his lips, watching her with a quiet intensity that made her heart race. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but something about the way he was looking at her made the whole moment feel different—more meaningful than it was in the past years when he’d given her presents.

He smiled, his gaze tender. “I’m glad you like it.”

She nodded, the gesture simple but meaningful. She felt a lump form in her throat, a surge of warmth filling her chest. “Thank you.” She closed the box and stepped forward, pulling him into a tight hug. “Really. I love it.” Rafe returned the hug, his hands resting gently on her back. When she pulled away, he held her at arm's length, a playful glint in his eyes. 

“Want me to put it on for you?”

Y/N laughed softly, feeling a mix of warmth and comfort from his presence. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Without breaking eye contact, Rafe gently took the necklace from the box, the soft gold chain catching the light as he held it in his hands. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though he was savouring every moment. He stepped a little closer, and Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart fluttering in her chest. She felt his warmth before she even saw him move, the proximity suddenly making the air around them feel heavier, charged with something unspoken. His hands were steady, sure, but there was a tenderness to them as they reached out, the chain dangling between his fingers.

Rafe’s fingers gently grazed the back of her neck as he moved to place the necklace around her, his touch barely there but still enough to send a shiver down her spine. She held her breath for a moment, feeling the heat of his skin against hers, the soft brush of his fingertips making her skin tingle.

There was something so simple, so intimate about it.

"Hold still," he murmured, barely audible.

She felt the coolness of the chain against her skin, and then, the soft click of the clasp as he fastened it around her neck.

“There,” he said, his voice low but warm. “Perfect.”

When he stepped back, his gaze never leaving hers, Y/N’s heart was still pounding in her chest. She touched the pendant, feeling the cool gold between her fingers, but her mind was still caught on the feel of his touch.

“You look beautiful,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper.

“Rafe,” she said, her voice thick with emotion she hadn’t expected to feel. 

“This… this means so much.”

"I’m happy," he began, his voice lower than usual, as he fidgeted with the cuff of his blazer. 

"I didn’t know what to get you this year, so-“

“You didn’t need to get me anything.’

“-I wanted to.”

He swallowed hard, trying to gather his thoughts. He hesitated as he looked at her, the necklace catching the light, glimmering as it rested against her skin. His bowtie suddenly felt awfully tight his tongue darted out to wet his dry lips, his breath feeling short. His shaky hand raised to his neck, finger shoving between his shirt and neck to loosen the material. Standing there right in front of him, he couldn't look away from her. His gaze lingered on her, a mix of admiration and something deeper—something he had been fighting to ignore for a long time. His heart was thudding so harshly against his chest he felt like he was going to pass out, he stepped just a little closer, his breath catching in his throat. 

Say it now

He needed to.

“Y/N,” he started again, his voice quieter, but no less intense, he hesitated, his pulse racing as his eyes met hers. 

"I lo—"

“Y/N!” 

He jerked his head up, the words dying on his lips as he looked toward the source of the loud voice.

Wheezie yelled out as she pranced over to the girl happily wide smile on her face, Y/n’s head turned to look to her arms reaching out to catch the younger girl who’d bounded straight into her arms.

Fuck 

Y/N’s expression softened immediately, and before she could even say a word, Wheezie was already wrapping her arms around Y/N’s waist, pulling her into a tight hug. Y/N let out a strained laugh and returned the hug. 

Any time but now...

“Y/N!” Wheezie squealed, her voice full of excitement. “I missed you so much! I haven't seen you in like forever!”

Rafe stood there, frozen, watching them. His heart thudded heavily in his chest, the weight of the moment hanging thick in the air between them. His confession- his almost confession- had been so close.

So close, in fact, that it almost felt like it was still hanging there, unspoken. 

Y/N smiled down at Wheezie, her arms around her tightly. "I know, I’ve missed you too, Wheezie," she said warmly. 

"Things have been a little busy lately,” her eyes glanced over to Rafe as she spoke out. The boy cleared his throat, trying to shake off the tension, obvious to his sister. His eyes flicked from Wheezie back to Y/N, the opportunity was gone now. 

The words he had almost said to her- words that had been building in him for weeks, months even- seemed to slip away, lost in the noise of the party around them.

He gave a tight smile, feeling a mixture of frustration and amusement. "Yeah," he said, trying to sound casual, even though his voice felt heavier than usual. 

"Real busy."

Y/N, sensing the shift in the air, gave him a small but reassuring smile. She knew him too well, probably more than anyone else did. Wheezie ignored their silent interaction, eyes wide with excitement. 

“You will not believe what I just found out!” She looked back and forth between them.

Rafe groaned at his sister.

Fucks sake

“Wheezie, not now…”

“You know Audrey and Max? They’re hooking up! For real!” She threw her hands up dramatically, as if she announced the discovery of the century. 

“I heard them talking at the bar. They think they’re being all secretive, but—hello?!

Y/N’s brows furrowed slightly as she processed the gossip, but she couldn’t help but laugh. “Wait, seriously?”

“I was like, what? Audrey and Max? So sneaky!” Wheezie shook her head. The younger girl smiled smugly, then turned her attention to Rafe, who was standing there, still trying to regain his bearings. She raised an eyebrow, noticing the odd tension hanging in the air. 

“What’s going on here?” she asked with a sly grin.

“Are you two like, having a moment?”

Rafe blinked, caught off guard by her sudden shift in focus. His heart was still racing and now, his younger sister was teasing him about it. He forced a smile, shaking his head slightly. 

“No, just… catching up,” he said, his voice a little more strained than usual.

Wheezie raised an eyebrow, her playful expression shifting to something more teasing, glancing back and forth between them. She squinted at them, clearly working out what she thought was going on. 

“Are you guys fuc-” 

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, her cheeks flushing slightly, 

Uh-

“What!? No, we’re just…” She stumbled over her words, clearly trying to keep things casual. 

“Wheezie, don’t be ridiculous.” Rafe spoke out to the girl in a disapproving tone.

Really not helping here.

Wheezie just raised her eyebrows, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh, sure, sure. But just so you know, I’m, like, really good at reading people.”

Y/n laughed awkwardly as she looked over at the girl, “right well-” 

Wheezie suddenly grabbed the girl by the arm and began tugging her away toward the drink table. “Come on, let’s get a drink. I need to fill you in on the drama.”

Y/N, looking apologetic, glanced back over her shoulder. “Sorry,” she called, offering him a small smile. 

“It’s fine,” Rafe quickly replied, forcing a smile, even though a part of him was disappointed as he watched his sister drag the girl away, the navy fabric sewing around her legs as she got lost in the crowd of brightly coloured dresses.

It’s not fine. 

He had almost said it- almost told her how he felt, how much she meant to him. But now, the chance had passed, and the more he thought about it, the more he felt like he’d missed it. That perfect moment was gone, stolen by Wheezie’s innocent oblivion. He sighed, shaking his head, trying to push the frustration aside. He had another chance, right? He just needed to be patient. The music continued to thump in the background, and the party went on, but Rafe couldn’t shake the feeling that the one thing he wanted most had just slipped through his fingers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rafe lingered by the edge of the party, his gaze fixed on Y/N as she laughed and talked with Wheezie,

“You okay, man?”

Rafe was startled out of his thoughts by the voice of Topper, who had appeared beside him, a beer bottle in hand. Topper's eyes were trained on the boy's expression, clearly picking up on the tension. Rafe swallowed hard, forcing a smile.

"Yeah, yeah. Just... tired,"

he said, but even to his own ears, it sounded hollow. He cleared his throat, wanting to change the subject before Topper could press. He glanced over at the group of girls, including Y/N, who was chatting with the boys sister.

“You’ve been kind of quiet all night.”

Rafe shifted on his feet, feeling the weight of Topper’s observation. "I'm fine," he said quickly, brushing it off again. But this time, it wasn’t as convincing.

“Okay, man,” Topper said with a skeptical smile. “If you say so.” He took a long swig of his beer, then added, more casually,

“Y/n liked her necklace?”

Rafe’s breath caught, and he nodded stiffly.

“Yeah, why?”

Topper shrugged, seemingly nonchalant, but Rafe could tell he was watching him closely. The boy let out a sharp laugh, but there was no humour behind it.

Seriously?

“What's the problem.”

Topper just grinned, his tone dropping to something a little more playful but still serious. “Look Rafe, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but you should just… say something.”

Rafe’s chest tightened at the words, like a weight had just settled on his ribs.

“What’re you talking bout Top-”

“Come on.”

Topper leaned against the nearby wall, clearly in no rush. “I’ve known you long enough to know when you're into someone. And I know how much you care about her. But don’t wait until she’s looking at someone else..”

The boys eyes drifted over to Y/n, who was now talking to Cooper, a smile on her face as she pushed her hair over her shoulder, laughing at what the boy was saying. Her hands reached out fixing his slightly bent tie, before the boy pulled her towards the floor where couples were dancing, he spun her clumsily to which she shook her head at him happily, her hands now resting on her shoulders.

“You think it’s that easy?” Rafe muttered, as his hand rubbed over his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The lights strung up around the club now flickered softly, casting a warm, inviting glow over the crowd. Y/N, with her head tilted back in laughter, let out a genuine chuckle as Topper dramatically reenacted a conversation from earlier in the night, his exaggerated gestures making everyone laugh even harder. Kelce was leaning against the bar, his smile wide, eyes gleaming as he added his own commentary. The girl brought her hand up wiping away at the tear in her eye, maybe she had one too many of those champagne flutes that were being walked around. A warm buzz started in her chest and radiated outward, making everything feel just a little giddier. She glanced around, half-focused on the conversation unfolding before her, the words blending together in a pleasant, almost melodic hum.

Her gaze wandered for a moment, eyes catching on Rafe. The way his smile lit up on his face, the way he looked at her, even from across the room, made her chest flutter, but in a way that felt hazy. Maybe it was the alcohol. 

Maybe it’s him?

 She wasn’t sure. But everything seemed just a little more intense, despite the slight fuzziness clouding her thoughts.

A grin tugged at Kelce's lips, and he straightened up, pulling a blunt from his blazer pocket with an almost practiced ease. He held it up casually, letting the group see it, a playful smirk dancing on his face. 

“How about a little fresh air, some space to breathe?”

His gaze lingered on Y/N for a moment, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth,

“I’m feeling like the beach is calling my name.”

Rafe, still nursing his drink, glanced at the others, his gaze drifting back to Y/N, a bit of quiet time away from the buzz of the club felt like a good idea. He met Kelce’s eyes for a second before shrugging. 

“Couldn’t hurt,” he said. Kelce, sensing he was starting to win the group over, gave a knowing nod and flicked the blunt again. 

“Exactly. So, what do you say? Beach, fresh air, good company—

“I’m down” Cooper spoke out as he stood up from his seat, Topper nodding along in agreement. Y/N hesitated for a second, but the thought of the beach, the quiet, cool night air felt tempting. She finally nodded, her lips curving into a small smile. 

“Why not?”

She glanced at the group, who were already starting to make their way toward the door, then back at her mom. She wasn’t sure how long they'd be gone, and she didn’t want to leave her mom completely unaware of her whereabouts. The girl took a deep breath and made her way back to the bar, where her mother was still chatting away with a few friends, her laughter ringing out louder than it should have.

"Hey, Mom," Y/N said, leaning in close, tapping her lightly on the shoulder.

Her mother turned toward her, blinking as if surprised to see her daughter standing there. A wide grin spread across her face, and she let out a small giggle. “Oh! Hi sweet girl," she slurred lightly, “You havin’ fun?”

Y/N smiled, already feeling that familiar warmth spreading through her at her mother’s carefree attitude. 

“Yeah, gonna head to the beach with the others... get some fresh air.”

Her mom squinted at her for a moment, still a little disoriented but clearly not at all concerned. She waved her hand dismissively, 

“Oh honey, that’s fine, go, go... fresh air is good. Go. Have fun." She paused before pulling her daughter into a quick, tight hug. Y/N squeezed her mom back, her heart a little lighter. 

“I will. Love you,” she said, stepping back. Her mom waved her off with a lazy grin, already turning back to her conversation. 

"Love you too, baby!"

Her heart clenched slightly, her mother was only ever that way when she was drunk, and she wished it was more often that she got to see her like that. The drunken version of her mom- full of giggles, playfulness and affection- was a rare sight, one that always disappeared by morning. Y/N turned and walked back toward the group, as much as she loved her mom, as much as she appreciated everything she did, there was always a part of her that wished she could hold onto this lighter version of her just a little longer, that maybe one day she could see it without the help of alcohol or the haze of exhaustion. She turned back toward the door, catching up with the group stepping outside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She walked a little further toward the back of the club, the sound of her footsteps soft against the path leading to the beach. Her eyes caught sight of the others already moving down the sandy shore, their figures distant in the night, laughing, talking, stumbling around, but someone was waiting for her by the edge of the club’s back entrance. Rafe leaned casually against the brick wall,

“You makin me wait, huh?” 

Rafe teased lightly, raising an eyebrow as she stopped in front of him, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. The tensions of the early evening seemed to wash away, he couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol he’d drank over the night or if it was the girls presence, she seemed to put him at ease in a way. 

Y/N smiled, feeling a little self-conscious as she glanced at him. “I had to tell mom where I was going,” she said, a slight shrug. “You know how it is.” Rafe’s smile softened just a little, his eyes flickering over her. “Yeah, I get it.”

As they stepped away from the club, the noise and lights faded behind them, leaving just the quiet hum of the ocean and the soft rustle of the wind through the trees. The beach stretched out before them, waves lapping gently at the shore. Rafe was moving ahead of her, his stride confident, hands tucked into his pockets. He glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of her slowing down a little, her heels sinking into the sand with every step. He smirked, clearly noticing the struggle, but there was a softness in his eyes that made it seem more endearing than anything else. Y/N sighed, shifting her weight to one foot as she tried to pull her heel free from the stubborn sand. 

“Great” 

She muttered under her breath, her gaze on the ground as she wiggled her foot, trying to free herself from the sinking trap. The sand wasn’t ideal, shifting beneath her with every movement, and the heels she wore weren’t exactly beach-appropriate. Rafe took a few steps back toward her, his grin wide but his expression amused. 

“Need a hand, princess?” 

He teased, the nickname slipping from his lips, she rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. 

"I’ve got it," 

She said, trying to sound determined, but the truth was, the more she tried to pull her foot free, the more stuck she seemed to get. Before Y/N could respond, or even protest, Rafe’s strong arms slipped around her waist. With one swift motion, he lifted her effortlessly, pulling her off the ground and into his arms in a bridal hold.

Y/N let out a surprised hum, her breath catching at the suddenness of it. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself, her heart skipping a beat as the world shifted.

That was unexpected

“What—Rafe?” she exclaimed, voice catching with a mix of shock and something else she couldn’t quite identify. The surprise was quickly replaced with a strange sense of comfort, the boy shot her a teasing grin, his arms strong around her as he held her securely,

"You didn’t think I’d leave you stranded in the sand, did you?"

Y/N blinked up at him, still a little stunned. Her voice came out slightly breathless as she muttered, 

"You better not drop me."

His smirk deepened, and without missing a beat, he glanced down at her with that same playful gleam in his eyes. 

"Drop you?" 

He repeated, as though considering it. Then, just as Y/N was about to give him a skeptical look, he slackened his grip just slightly, as though he was going to drop her entirely. Y/N’s eyes widened. 

"Rafe!" 

She squealed, her hands instinctively tightening around his neck, pulling herself toward him. The sudden shift in weight had her clinging to him tighter, her heart skipping a beat as she could feel the way he was teasing her. 

Oh my fucking go-

"Don’t you dare!"

"Gotcha,"

he laughed, lifting her back up his grip firm again as he steadied her. Rafe’s grin only deepened as she clinged onto him.

"Yeah, well, you’ve got a death grip on me now," He teased, his lips almost brushing against her ear as he spoke. "Maybe next time, I’ll actually drop you.” Y/N rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face was undeniable. 

“I’ll remember that,” she said, but the words came out softer than she meant. As the others came into view, Kelce, Cooper, and Topper all gathered in a loose circle, passing something between them, Rafe slowed his pace.

"Alright, princess," he murmured with a small, amused smile, "this is where I put you down."

How about you don't?

Where did that come from-

Y/N, still nestled in his arms, raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You mean you’re done showing off?"

Rafe's grin softened just slightly,

"Something like that."

With a small chuckle, he gently lowered her feet to the sand, his hands lingering on her waist for just a moment longer than necessary, like he didn’t quite want to let go. Y/N felt a slight chill from being on her own two feet again, but the warmth from his touch lingered. Rafe’s gaze flicked up to the group as they passed the blunt around. Kelce was the first to wave them over with a grin. 

“Took you long enough, you guys finally fuck or what?” He said, his tone light and teasing, his eyes already hazy from whatever it was they'd been smoking.

“You wish,” Y/n spoke back as she flicked her middle finger up at him. She glanced at the blunt in Kelce’s hand, 

"Thanks for sharing,"

she said, her voice casual, though there was a slight challenge in her tone as she reached out for the blunt taking it from Kelce. Holding the blunt, she exhaled a soft laugh before bringing it to her lips. She took a slow drag eyes fluttering close, feeling the familiar, slightly heady warmth settle in her chest as she held the smoke in her lungs for a second before releasing it into the night air.

Kelce grinned, watching her. "That’s what I like to see," he said with a wink, before reaching for it again.

Y/N passed it off to him, the buzz from the first drag already making her feel a little lighter. She turned her attention to Rafe, who was watching her with a slightly amused, almost thoughtful expression. His gaze that lingered just a moment too long.

“See I can handle myself,” she teased, nudging him with her shoulder as she leaned back against the sand. 

"No need to carry me around like a princess all night."

Rafe chuckled, shaking his head, but there was something almost protective in his demeanour as he shifted closer, taking a seat next to her. 

"I’ll carry you whenever I feel like it," he said with a shrug, his grin returning. "Besides, I think you secretly liked it."

Y/N rolled her eyes and she gave him a small smile. 

“Maybe. But don’t get used to it.”

The night had stretched into a lazy, hazy blur, the joint passed around clouding any coherent thoughts. The group was lost in their high now, their conversation drifting like the smoke in the air. The beach was quiet, save for the soft sound of waves crashing against the shore, and the occasional laughter that spilled from one of them, the sound of the party behind them occasionally breaking the calmness. Y/n, thoroughly buzzed from the weed and the champagne, was nestled against Rafe, her body leaning into him seeking his warmth. He was resting on his elbows, his posture relaxed, his gaze shifting between the distant shore and the girl every now and then; the sea breeze tousled his hair slightly, but he didn’t seem to mind, his usual tension gone.

The girl, on the other hand, was practically vibrating with laughter. Everything seemed funny to her- Topper’s latest comment, the random thoughts floating through her mind, even the way the sand beneath her seemed to shift with every movement she made. Her giggles were light and contagious, Rafe’s eyes flickered down at her, the corners of his mouth curving into a small smile. 

Her fingers, wobbly, were fiddling with the buttons of his shirt, moving from one to the next as though they were the most fascinating things in the world. His shirt was loose, the fabric stretching slightly as she moved her fingers, Rafe felt a light tension coil in his chest. He couldn’t quite explain it, maybe it was the way her fingers traced his shirt, or the sound of her voice when she spoke.

He didn’t pull away, though. Instead, he let her keep fidgeting with his shirt, his focus shifting back and forth between her and the sound of Kelce and Topper laughing as they waded through the waves. They had made their way to the edge of the water to cool off, their carefree chatter and occasional splashes rising over the sound of the ocean.

Y/n shifted, her fingers brushing under one of the buttons on his shirt again, causing her hand to graze his skin. The brief contact made Rafe’s breath catch slightly, and his body went rigid for a split second, though he did his best to mask it.

So warm

“Stop fidgeting with my shirt,” he said lightly, though there was no edge to his tone, just a quiet humour in his voice. The girl looked up at him then, her lips curled into a, playful smile. 

“I can’t help it,” she replied, her voice teasing, her eyes twinkling with a mix of mischief and warmth. “I’m bored…” She whined. Rafe chuckled, his gaze flicking between her and the others in the distance before he let his eyes rest back on her. 

“Bored, huh?” he repeated, leaning just a little closer, the warmth of his body mixing with hers. 

“Maybe I could entertain you...”

There was a pause, a charged silence hanging between them. Rafe’s words were a playful invitation, but his tone had shifted ever so slightly, an underlying edge of something more subtle in between them. His gaze softened as he looked down at her, his eyes lingering on her lips for just a moment before snapping back to her eyes.

Y/n didn’t seem to notice the shift, her giggles still bubbling from her chest, softening as her breath caught, fingers pausing on his shirt, her hand resting lightly against his chest for a brief second.

“Maybe you should,” she said, her voice a little dreamy. 

Her heart was racing, thoughts a little jumbled from the joint she'd kept bringing back to her lips, she cursed herself for her lack of self restraint. She could still feel the heat of Rafe’s body beside hers, his arm brushing against hers as he shifted, his eyes never left hers, and the soft amusement in his gaze now mixed with something more intense, more uncertain.

Don't do it-

But what's the harm?

Her fingers trailed up to the top of his shirt, her eyes looking at the black bowtie done up under his neck, her finger looped around the material loosening slightly, watching as it falls around his neck. Her teeth bite at her bottom lip as she pops open his top button, trailing down to the next two opening up the material, his skin now exposed to the cool sea air, her breath hitched but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned in just a little, her lips barely grazing the skin of his jaw. The move was slow, almost hesitant, but it was enough to make Rafe’s eyes narrow just slightly. He seemed to hold his breath for a moment, as if he was waiting for her to make the next move.

His hand, without thinking, shifted a little closer to her. His fingers brushed lightly against her side, a soft touch that sent a jolt through her. As she pulled away from his jaw slightly, her breath shallow, Rafe could see the flush spreading across her cheeks. Her lips were slightly parted, her pupils dilated, the hint of glassiness in her eyes betraying the effects of the drug. The subtle tremor in her fingers as she rested them on his chest didn't go unnoticed, and neither did the way her gaze wavered—she was there, but not entirely there.

Rafe’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched her, the air between them thick with an electric tension. She seemed so close, so present- but at the same time, there was a layer of fog surrounding her that made him pause. The way she looked at him, her eyes soft but unfocused, her body language so open and trusting… it created an urge within him, something that made him want to pull her in. 

But the longer he looked at the girl, he came to terms with what was going on and his stomach tightened slightly. This wasn't right.

She's high you gotta stop 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want her, God, he wanted her more than he could put into words—but in that moment, he saw the vulnerability in her that he hadn't before. The haze in her eyes, the way she was almost floating in her own thoughts, disconnected from the world around her. He could see the haze in her expression, the slight confusion, the softness in her gaze that wasn’t entirely hers. She wasn’t fully present. She wasn’t fully aware of what was going on, not the way he needed her to be.

His hand hovered at her waist, but he didn’t pull her closer now. He couldn’t. He was aware- too aware of what this moment would mean if he crossed that line without her consciousness.

He wasn’t that guy. He never would be.

Her fingers brushed his chest again, but this time, he didn’t respond the way he normally would. His eyes took in the way she looked up at him, her breath still shallow, the lightness in her smile tugging at his heart.

He exhaled, fighting the urge to pull her in, his heart beating louder with every passing second. She deserved more than this, she deserved clarity, not confusion. He could already see the trust in her eyes, an unspoken invitation in the way she looked at him, but it wasn’t real- not in the way it should be.

“Y/N,” 

Rafe said quietly, his voice steady but with a hint of concern. He reached up, his hand brushing her hair away from her face as his thumb gently stroked her cheek. 

“Don’t think this is a good time princess” His words were soft, but they held a weight. She blinked slowly, her expression still dreamy, and for a moment, Rafe couldn’t tell if she’d even heard him. But her lips parted, her eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to focus.

“Why not Rafey,” she mumbled, words slower than usual, the lack of clarity in her voice made his chest at her vulnerability. 

So fucking stubborn

He could feel the tension building again, the desperate longing inside him clawing at his chest. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to pull her into him and lose himself in her. But something inside him, a voice that was louder than his impulses, told him to stop. He was starting to realise why she only smoked when he was around, he didn’t want to imaginer like this, so innocent and trusting at a party by herself, surrounded by people she didn’t know. 

The thought made him nauseous.

He leaned back, his gaze holding hers, steady, but with an edge of hesitation.

“Not like this,” he said softly, almost to himself, but loud enough for her to hear. She tilted her head in confusion, her lips pursing as if trying to understand, but Rafe shook his head slightly. He could wait. He could wait until she was fully aware, he wouldn’t take advantage of her- he couldn’t- he'd never even think of it.

“Y/N, look at me,”

he whispered, reaching out gently to hold her face, his thumb grazing her soft skin. “I’m not going anywhere. But I’m not doing this with you like this.”

For a moment, there was only the sound of the waves and the distant laughter of the others in the background, and then, finally, she nodded, her expression soft, a slight pout tugging at her lips. She was still out of it, but she understood the sincerity in his voice, and it made something flutter in his chest.

With a sigh, Rafe pulled back just slightly, releasing his hold on her but keeping his gaze on her face, his heart still hammering in his chest. She didn’t say anything more instead she leaned into him ever so slightly, head resting on his shoulder, just enough to let him know she wasn’t pulling away, but she was still there, still trusting him.

And that was all he needed.

The boy took in a slow breath, then dropped his hand back to his side. He could feel the pull, the heat, the temptation to kiss her, but he resisted, allowing the silence to settle between them. 

She's won't remember any of this. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Rafe pulled outside the girls house, the soft hum of the engine and Y/n’s occasional delayed mumble of the song lyrics playing were the only sound between them, the night air seemed thicker now, charged with something unspoken. The glow of the streetlights flickered over the girl's face, catching the soft curve of her jaw, the faint flush still lingering on her cheeks. He had barely said a word to her since the conversation on the beach, unsure of what to say, his mind still buzzing from the way things had shifted and he knew she hadn't noticed, too preoccupied in her own little world.

He's got a nice nose

You know what they say about big noses-

Girl shut the fuck up

The car slowed to a stop in front of her house, but neither of them moved immediately. He kept his hands firmly on the wheel, trying to calm the sudden pressure that had started to coil in his chest. Every little shift of her body, every soft breath she took, seemed emphasise in the silence between them. Y/N didn’t seem in any hurry to get out, her fingers fiddling with the slit of her dress as she looked out the window, exposing her thigh to the air of the car. She leaned just a little closer,

“Thanks for bringing me back,”

she said softly, her voice sweet and laced with a quiet giggle that clung to the walls of the car. He nodded, his throat tight, trying to keep his composure. 

“Of course. You okay?” 

He asked, though he noticed the way her fingers were now tracing the fabric of his seat, the way her gaze lingered on him a little too long. She turned to face him, her lips pulling into a playful, almost mischievous smile. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” she said, her voice insistent, as if she were trying to convince herself. She leaned toward him just slightly, her shoulder brushing against his arm as she shifted closer. Rafe felt the heat rising in his body, a surge of something he was desperately trying to control. She was still so touchy, so close. Her hand, which had been absentmindedly resting on her lap, now slid to his arm, her fingers lightly brushing his shirt, making his pulse hitch.

The light touch sent a spark through him, one that made him clench his jaw. He had to remind himself that she wasn’t fully in control of her actions, but it didn’t make it any easier. His muscles tensed as her fingers lingered for just a second too long on his forearm before slowly tracing up his sleeve. The soft caress sent an undeniable shiver through him, one that made it harder to concentrate.

He swallowed hard, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as her fingers trailed up to his shoulder, her palm resting against the side of his neck. It was too much—too much of her, too much softness in her touch, too much of the way she was looking at him like she wanted more. Her gaze, still slightly unfocused, held a curiosity, a gentleness that was intoxicating. She pushed herself slightly closer to him over the centre console, her dress dragging down slightly, the v-neck exposing her skin to him, the low cut revealing more of her chest than he was expecting.

"Rafe..." Her voice was barely a whisper now, like she was testing his name on her lips, her fingers now slowly sliding over the side of his neck, her touch sending goosebumps across his skin. His jaw locked, his teeth grinding together as he fought the growing desire inside him. 

“Y/N, stop,” he said through clenched teeth, his voice low and strained, but firm. He turned his head toward her, his gaze intense, trying to pull her back into reality. 

“Need to go home yeah? You’re not yourself right now.”

Don't wanna go home want you

She didn’t seem to hear him- or maybe she didn’t care, he couldn't tell. Her hand slid around to the back of his neck, her fingers brushing the nape of his hair, it almost made his resolve crumble. He forced himself to meet her gaze, but his heart was hammering in his chest, and he was so aware of the way her body was leaning closer, the heat radiating off her.

She smiled up at him, leaning in, her lips brushing against his neck in a soft, teasing kiss. “You’re so serious all the time,” she murmured, her breath warm against his skin.

“Why can’t you just relax?”

His whole body stiffened. His grip on the wheel tightened so much his knuckles went white. He tried to focus on anything but the way her lips lingered near his neck, the way her breath caressed his skin, how close she was.

“Y/N, you need to get out of the car,” he said, his voice strained, the words slipping out before he could stop them. 

“Go inside, I’m not going to do this with you, not when you’re not yourself.”

She pouted, her gaze flickering down to his lips and back up to his eyes. “You’re no fun...” she said with a playful giggle.

Rafe let out a long, slow breath, he didn’t want to hurt her feelings,

“C’mon princess” he said quietly, his tone more affectionate, yet still firm. 

“Go inside for me, yeah? You’re not thinking clearly.”

She didn’t resist. 

After a long beat, she finally pulled her hand away, glossy eyes looking at him as she pushed open the door. Before she stepped out, she turned back to look at him one last time, her smile still lingering but faint; she pushed herself back into the car and placed a soft kiss onto his cheek.

“Goodnight, Rafey.”

She whispered, her voice wavering and slightly off-balance. She wiggled her fingers at him in a wave before closing the door behind her, and Rafe watched as she staggered up to her front door, her steps a little less steady than usual. She fiddled with the doorhandle, and he debated whether he should get out and help her open the door. Somehow she managed to crack the door open, she turned back to him blowing him a kiss before closing the door behind her. 

Once she was inside, Rafe sat there for a moment, his jaw still clenched, trying to shake the weight of everything that had just happened. Her touch had been too much and as much as he had tried to keep his distance, it didn’t matter because his body was betraying him.

He shifted uncomfortably in the seat, feeling the tightness of his slacks against him, and he swore under his breath. The pressure between his legs was undeniable, a constant reminder of how wrong it all was.

She's high.

AND she's not herself. 

He dragged his hand through his hair again, frustration gnawing at him. He had to leave. But the thoughts came anyway- the image of her lips, the soft weight of her body against his, the way her smile made his chest tighten. He could feel the pressure building again, the ache in his body, and for a split second, he imagined what it would be like to pull her back into the car, to kiss her until she forgot everything except him. To hear her moan his name, to feel her hands on him the way they were on his neck...

Rafe’s breath hitched.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The boy's hands gripped the wheel tighter as he rolled into the driveway of Tannyhill, the tires crunching over the gravel as he parked the car in front of the empty house. The quiet of the night surrounded him, only the distant hum of a few streetlights and the rustling of leaves in the breeze breaking the stillness.

He sat in his car for a moment, head resting against the steering wheel eyes closed and jaw clenched tight as he tried to push away the memory and the feeling of her touch. He felt guilty, but he also couldn't shake the feeling of wanting more. His body was still trembling as he remembered the way she'd touched him, the way she'd looked up at him with hazy, glazed eyes. He shifted awkwardly in his seat, slacks straining against him. 

A glimpse of pink catches the corner of his eye, Rafe’s gaze lingered on the pink jumper in the backseat, the soft fabric wrinkled from weeks of being tossed around in the car, yet it still carried the faint scent of her. His heart thudded in his chest, and he couldn’t help the surge of desire that bloomed inside him. The memory of her wearing it, her figure draped in the soft jumper, rushed back with vivid clarity.

He reached over slowly, almost as if he was afraid it would disappear if he moved too quickly. His fingers brushed against the fabric, and the sensation sent a small shiver down his spine. Grabbing the jumper, he lifted it from the backseat, holding it in his hands like it was something precious. The soft material felt almost too delicate against his skin, his breath caught in his throat as his mind wandered. He could almost feel her body against his again, the way her soft hands had pressed into him.

He let out a shaky breath, the air in the car feeling warmer than it had moments ago. His fingers traced the edge of the sleeve, the softness reminding him of the girl. Rafe’s grip on the jumper tightened, and his chest rose with a slow, deep breath as he brought the soft fabric up to his face. The scent of her hit him again- intoxicating and something uniquely Y/n that made his stomach flip. His eyes fluttered shut as he inhaled, the softness of the material pressing against his nose, his lips. The familiar scent settled deep inside him, and he couldn’t stop the grunt that slipped out, low and unguarded, his head tilted back against the seat.

His mind swirled with visions of her, of what could have happened, of how easily he could have pulled her back into the car; the heat between them had been undeniable- much too strong to ignore. 

He could feel the burn in his chest, the low, insistent throb heavy between his legs. 

Rafe’s jaw clenched as he pulled the jumper closer to his face again, breathing her in deeply, letting her scent consume him. His hand drifted down his body, fingers fiddling with his belt as he loosened it, the rattling of the metal buckle filling the car. 

He lifted his hips up slightly, shaking hand slipping his trousers down past his hips just enough. His breath was harsh and ragged, his body burning, the feeling of her scent surrounding him; the memory of her touch still fresh in his mind, making him twitch with want, he groaned aloud as he wrapped the jumper around his hand, needing to feel the softness against him.

The jumper was wrapped around his hand in a tight, desperate grip as he moved it down to his crotch, palming himself slowly through the fabric, the friction making his breath come out in quick, uneven huffs.

He let out a low, moan his voice thick with need, but it wasn't enough, it wasn't what he really wanted. 

In a hurried movement, he slid his hand inside his briefs, grasping his length, and began to stroke himself, eyes closed as he let out a guttural groan, his head falling back against the seat as his body responded to the touch of his hand and the soft material wrapped around it.

He imagined the girl in the passenger seat, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire, her lips parted in anticipation as she was moments before he’d told her to leave. 

He swallowed harshly as he circled the tip of his throbbing cock, beads of pre-cum coating his thumb.

His mind flickered back to the golf course weeks ago, the girl on her knees in front of him, innocent doe eyes looking up. He pictured the night going differently, his sweet best-friend leaning over, her lips wrapping around the head of his cock, her tongue swirling and teasing his tip, cheeks hollowing around him. He let out a heavy breath at the image of the girl in his mind, his hand gripping himself tighter. He imagined his hands threading through her hair, pulling it up into a ponytail as her eyes fluttered shut, pushing his hips towards her, the girls nails dragging down his thighs as she gagged around him. Her whimpers and whines echoing in his mind, his hand, still holding the jumper trembled slightly as he pressed it harder against his face, as he thrusted himself up into his fist at the smell of her. Rafe's strokes grew faster, his breath coming out in short gasps, his hips bucking up into his hand frantically as he envisioned the girl pulling away from him, eyes teary and glazed over like they were tonight, looking up to him her mouth open for him awaiting, lips reddened and wet with her spit. 

“Fuck y/n” he groaned shakily as the slick sounds filling the car came to a stop, warm ropes of cum landing over the soft pink material wrapped around his hand.

Rafe's heavy breaths filled the car, windows now fogged up. The boy sat there motionless looking down at the mess in his lap, mind reeling.

What the fu-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @evermorx89 @bellaed1t @user381953 @lovemanheim @loves0phelia @yourcrackleflame @kundaquarius @matthewswifeyy @pillowprincess4him

[akkivee]

we seem to be framing the true hypnosis mic as the end all be all, where we use the mic to unite japan under the winner’s vision, makes me think of how the second guidebook expressly said that the affects on those who are hit by the true hypnosis mic are unknown and probably vary

and that doesn’t seem like something you should be using on the nation tbh lmao

[10yrratiolover]

some more Ratio headcanons since I can't make a more in depth post just yet!

I think he'd sleep with several pillows, he likes to think it's to help with proper positioning/skeletal & muscle support but he actually just likes having multiple

This one might make less sense since it's a liiittle protection-y but I think he'd prefer smaller rooms over bigger ones, bigger rooms feel more overwhelming since it feels like he sort of has to make use of all the space (idk how to explain it proper I just like being crushed in smaller spaces, I'm like the opposite of claustrophobic)

Big fan of birds I think, besides the owl motifs of his actual character

As a kid he didn't like playing with other kids that much since they 'didn't play right' and it would upset him when things went off his mental script

Used to be really insecure about his appearance as a kid/teen, he never really got over it he just stopped caring since he had bigger issues to deal with

He keeps and finds a use for every single gift he's gotten from one of his students, still uses a #1 Teacher mug he got like 7 years ago

He remembers all his students, regardless of if they ended up passing or failing, some of them come and visit him every once in a while to catch up

He's a plant mom and he takes great care of them

Has several things that are basically only used for one thing since he likes the routine of it (ex. he only drinks at certain type of tea out of this one specific mug, no other mug will do.)

Nobody can convince me he doesn't sleep naked, fancy/expensive pajamas be damned

Never thought hard enough about his sexuality since he had bigger issues, but I think he'd be asexual and either sex positive or neutral on the idea on actually having sex

I think he'd own a cat, she's named Vela after the constellation, she's absolutely spoiled to heaven and back

[erinwantstowrite]

Wait did Loki already know about Dick and Jason and all that because he did research /before/ Peter got sent there on not just he was there without telling Peter? And that's why he ended up in that universe specifically cuz he had family there? Or I did I misread something?

oh no Loki is fully lying out of his ass right now. but really he's not lying, it's more like he's not telling the full truth ? idk how much I can really tell you guys cuz I don't want to spoil it... alright, so i can't tell y'all what he was doing specifically but i can tell y'all his general plan and some character insight

i'm feeling in a slightly spoilery mood so!!! if you don't want to know anything about what Loki is up to, don't continue reading! but be aware that at this point in time, there are some things that we just won't know about Loki in the fic itself that i'll talk about here!

before all of this he had absolutely no intentions of teaming up with Peter, he was just exploiting a weakness and trying to get Peter out of the way (this is the same as to what he did with Thor). he knows that Tony would be distracted, and in their efforts to find Peter they would probably be stressed out and their forces would thin because finding usually involves splitting up. they would also have to deal with Mysterio and Ohnn (....and a secret third character 👀). it would give him plenty of opportunity to go in and try and pick them off one by one. except it's not working on the Avengers side. we'll get more to this later 😁

after his first meeting with Peter, Loki figured that Peter would probably be a good place to get some intel if he needed it, because Peter trusted him and was not aware about Loki and his past with the Avengers (or at least not fully aware). the more that he learned about the Bats and Peter's relation to them, as well as learning about Peter, the more he figured it wouldn't hurt to have Peter on his side. he thought that he could twist Peter into believing the Avengers weren't coming. his plans have been shifting around, meeting his needs since the beginning. he's been standing off to the side and pushing the characters around trying to figure out what they will and won't do, like he's observing a game and they have no idea he's moving pieces around when they weren't looking.

however this plan was going to take a lot more time... and Klarion summoning Thor ruined it completely. he had to speed up the process and make his offer quite literally months before he thought he would. so in a way, we can thank Klarion for derailing Loki's plot

Loki had no idea what would happen when he directed Ohnn and Mysterio towards Peter. he knew that Ohnn had been traveling between worlds for a couple of months, but he had no idea if Peter would even survive going to this other universe. he also had no idea about Peter's relation to the Bats until he started digging around for his new plan (Plan: Exploit Peter's Love for his Parents). the thing is, is that his plan would have failed no matter what, because Loki failed to see that Peter's adopted family cares deeply about him, and this bond means just as much as any blood ties he could have. his own insecurities about his standing within his own family got to him. when he was digging around in Peter's life he saw that Peter's foster experience had failed. and he might, maybe, just a little bit... feel bad that the family that was going to adopt Peter were killed because of what happened in the Battle of New York.

so: while he has been very intentionally manipulating Peter... he was thinking of Peter's best interest after a certain point. instead of him not caring what happened to him as long as he was out of the way, Loki did start preparing to make sure that Peter could stay in this world and that he would be taken care of. because i don't believe Loki is an evil person, and even now he's just a little silly. he might have been a little bit crazy with Thor, but to be fair, every other time Loki had a plan and he wasn't crazy enough, Thor came out of it. I feel like they have different standards than what we would as humans. because if you have a sibling then I feel like you'll understand me here... me and my brother used to fight a lot and while we never actually chased each other with knives, we did chase each other with other weapons (whatever wouldn't actually kill but was within our reach) and I think this is their version of that. like me and my brother are super close now but when we were kids we tried to kill each other a lot lmfao. so Thor will probably forgive Loki because that's his brother. (and I'm pretty sure that Loki was under some form of manipulation by Thanos during the Battle of Manhattan/New York??? correct me if I'm wrong, but if that's the case Peter would eventually see that Loki isn't an evil person.) Loki is very chaotic neutral in my eyes, leaning towards evil or good depending on the day. so he's gonna get his ass kicked for trying to take over the world, but like, that's just his enrichment... you gotta let him try every few months/once a year or you're not doing enough to entertain and care for your sneaky God Alien Guy

[dinsbeskar]

And In The Darkness Bind Them (Sauron/F!Reader)

A series of vignettes (smutty and angsty) chronicling S2 Rings of Power

Sequel to Homecoming // AO3 Link

Soundtrack: Beautiful Things by Benson Boone, Replay by Lady Gaga, Hands of Gold by Peter Hollens (kudos to @missjadesfics for this one)

Warnings: 18+ only!! Little bit of fluff, mostly smut and angst! Sometimes together!! P in V sex, oral (female receiving), fingering, possessiveness/toxic relationship, overstimulation, public sex/exhibitionism, dom!Sauron (I know smh, what am I doing??), carry-fucking (y'all I am cooking here, like he is basically a god so no matter how light or heavy you are, he can definitely pick you up and fuck you stupid okay), cumplay (idk how to describe it any other way), praise/condescending/degradation (it's a wild ride lmao), so much angst, very (!!) dubious consent towards the end (sorry, Sauron really leaning into his villain era now)

A/N: Reader is mad in love with our boy in this one but uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh well good luck guys idk

rather than a bunch of actual chapters, I've written a few vignettes for S2 Rings of Power (maybe I'll go back and expand on them later), starting near the start where Sauron is more Annatar, finishing at the end where he is ... very much himself. Some of the smut gets very dark, please take note of the tags!!

Word Count: 7.8k!! Wildly out of hand

The morning after Annatar climbs into your bed, you are momentarily confused to see long golden hair on the pillow next to you. Then you remember that Halbrand is no more.

“Good morning, love.” He props himself up on one arm, disentangling himself from your embrace.

You cannot help but stare at him a moment; this ethereal creature in front of you cannot be yours.

“Is it really you?” You ask him, eyes sparkling and fingers trailing over his high cheekbones, his broad firm chest, his sculpted lips.

“Always, darling.” He pulls you close, kissing your forehead.

He always smells the same, like salt and iron, smoke and musk. If your souls were to no longer recognise each other, you swear you could follow your nose to find him.

“You left so suddenly, I didn’t get to say goodbye.” You murmur into his chest, fingers entwined in his golden hair.

“I’m sorry, love, circumstances arose, I had matters to take care of, but I’m here now.”

He had set his plans in motion in Mordor, and waited for Galadriel to leave Eregion. He had a feeling that she would have told no-one there who he really was, her ego bruised and pride bleeding. He only had to wait for you to let him in. And with a little pleading, you had managed to convince Celebrimbor to open his gates.

“We should talk, properly, about what happened, the last time we saw each other. At Forodwaith.” You stutter and trip over your words, nervous to bring up the subject, but it has weighed heavily on your mind.

He sighs, running his fingers up and down your arm, unhurried and unphased.

Of course you had been angry with him when you’d found out about his plans to become Morgoth’s successor, and you stood by that anger. But knowing you had left him to die, to mourn the loss of your husband for centuries, your mind screamed at you to make it right, whatever you had to say.

“Some of the things I said were…unkind-”

“Cruel.” He interjects with a smirk; you purse your lips playfully and continue.

“But so were your deeds, and I have forgiven you. Mostly. So perhaps you should do me the same courtesy,” you twirl a strand of his hair around your finger as you prop yourself up to search his gaze, “since we are… what are we again? Oh yes…”

You lean in and whisper in his ear, “Bound in flesh and soul.”

His smile this time is dangerous, threatening, promising.

“And to think, if I were not so ravenous in my lust for you-” he grasps your wrists, pins them to the headboard with one hand and wraps his other arm around you, nose in your hair as he breathes in deeply.

“-I might have spared myself this torment.” He grins into your neck as you try to catch his lips with yours. “Not that I would have it any other way.”

He bends his neck and kisses you softly, releasing you just enough to throw your arms around his neck, through his silky golden hair, pulling him closer.

The dread that had dogged you for centuries is gone. There is no such thing as chance, and he is sure that you were supposed to leave him, whatever the reason, to save you from the same evil fate he suffered. After a millennium as primordial ooze, he can’t bring himself to care, only grateful to have you in his arms again.

~

Celebrimbor had been rather taken aback when Annatar had walked into his forge with you on his arm. You had been a close friend for many years, having visited his city many times, even reinforced the defences with the ancient magic you’d learned from your lost kin. He knew you were married but had never met your lord husband; no one could have guessed he was an emissary of the Valar.

Indeed you were surprised by his cover story too, but dismissed it as your husband wanting to make the best impression as you introduced him to the world.

“Do they really need to know?” He had asked you one night, holding you close as the rest of the world slept.

“What do you mean, love? Oh, that you’re mine? Yes, absolutely, they must. If I don’t stake my claim now, all of Eregion’s eligible maidens will be vying for your hand, and I cannot possibly entertain a rival for your affections.” Your tone is light, your words spoken in jest, but he sees in you the same dark possessive streak that runs so deeply within him, and his heart can’t help but reach out for yours, dark tendrils of his power wrapping around you.

“How could I look at another soul the way I look at you? You are the other half of me, the reason my heart still beats. No one compares to my wife, and I would reduce anyone who argued otherwise to dust.”

You laugh a little, burying your face in his side, but he needs you to know just how serious he is, cupping and lifting your chin to hold your gaze.

“My love, if the sun were too bright or the moon offensive to your eyes or the stars were to outshine your radiance, I would tear it all down for you. Everything I do is for the love of you.” He means it, in his own way, and you know it, a thrill shooting through you, ending in butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

It amazes you that even after the eons you’ve loved each other, you still feel the same flutters of excitement you did when you first set eyes on him in that golden glade, millenia ago.

The trials you have endured only sweeten the moments of contentment, making you all the more grateful to hold each other.

~

He has a job to do, a forge to supervise, and rings to create. But with you in his arms and a gentle breeze cooling you both in the burgeoning warmth of spring, he could be persuaded to stay abed a little longer.

“Stay with me today.” You murmur into his chest, unwilling to let him go.

It’s as if you could hear his thoughts as he could hear yours.

He chuckles fondly, stroking your hair, considering the vaguest possibility of letting Celebrimbor work unattended for today. Surely one day couldn’t hurt?

“I have to oversee the rings, my love, their progress is precious in every sense of the word,” he says as he traces your arm, rubbing slow circles into your skin with his thumb.

You grumble with indignation, nestling closer to his side as if to keep him there with the sheer magnetism of your presence. He squeezes your arm softly before resting his chin on the top of your head.

“One day with my husband. Is that too much to ask?” Your tone is still a little petulant, but he can’t help but smile fondly at your yearning for him; after all, it is returned a hundredfold.

“Your husband is an emissary of the Valar, he has… important duties, what are you doing?”

You give him a mischievous smile, running your foot up and down his leg, hand reaching between his thighs.

“I am simply showing my husband what he is missing when he attends to these important duties, more important than keeping his wife satisfied, apparently.” Your smile grows wider as his eyes grow dark, pupils blowing wide as your hand finds its prize, his cock already half hard simply from lying next to you all morning, breathing you in.

“Are you implying I do not keep you satisfied, my lady? Oh, that simply will not do…” he growls, rolling you over and caging you beneath his iron frame.

You look up at him through your lashes, your breath hitching as arousal pools in your core and drips down your thighs.

The dark glint in his eye only intensifies as he catches the scent of you, needy for his touch, as he dips his fingers between your thighs, delicately tracing your entrance as you shiver beneath him.

His hard length juts against your hip as he greedily swallows your moans, not sated until he has wrung every note of pleasure from you. His tongue doesn’t need to fight for dominance in your mouth; he already has it, and you let him take whatever he needs from you.

His thrusts are lazy, languid, now that his plans for the day no longer involve leaving your bed, meaning to take his sweet time with you.

His index and middle fingers circle your entrance, dipping in and out, thrusting deeper each time until he is knuckle-deep inside you. He hooks his fingers in a come hither motion, watching your face soften through hooded eyes as he strokes the sweetest spot inside you. Your body shakes under his ministrations as you clench around his fingers, seemingly unwilling to let him part from you in any way, shape, or form.

He kisses the tip of your nose before drawing back to take you in, spread out underneath him, hair across the pillow, lips parted and panting, eyes glassy with pleasure. He’d never tire of this sight.

When he first saw you, Sauron never thought he would end up here, with you so willingly his. His to hold close and torment with his loving words, torture with his lingering touch, to soothe with the lies that drip so easily from his tongue.

He covets you even when he has you pressed to him skin to skin, craves you even when he can’t breathe for his tongue inside you, wants to wrap himself around you when he can feel your soul entwined with his.

You are his, and today of all days, it is overwhelming him completely.

“So good for me, opening under my touch, I know what you need, darling, I have you, just let go.” He murmurs in your ear, aching for your release as much as his own; after all, they are the same thing.

He lowers himself to press his body against yours, needing to feel every inch of you against him, cunt clenching around his fingers as you give him your pleasure. You whine and pant against his neck as he refuses to give you a moment’s respite, stroking your inner walls, grinding his palm against your clit.

You shake through your orgasm, riding out your high on his fingers which relentlessly wring out every drop of pleasure from your body, until you’re breathless, pleasantly warm and tingly all over, and totally exhausted.

“So beautiful, my darling wife, wrung out and ruined for me. Is there a single thought in that pretty mind?” He can’t help but gaze at you fondly, slicked with sweat and writhing under his fingers.

Until this moment, he has had no thought of his own pleasure. Now he feels his cock ache to be inside you, and he rolls his hips against yours, sliding his cock between your thighs and rutting against your soft skin, his precum and your wetness soaking your thighs, easing his way. With every roll of his hips his cock grinds against your clit, rubbing against your lips, making you want him inside you where he belongs.

He throws his head back with a gasp, his golden hair falling over his shoulder, as the morning sun illuminates him from behind. You wonder, how could this ethereal being be yours? Giving into his carnal desires and binding himself to a mortal form for the love of you. It is too much to ponder, and you pull him down to your lips, desperate to taste him once more.

As you pull him down, he adjusts himself, teasing you with the promise of filling you up. He chuckles in your ear when you moan at the feeling of him thrusting deep inside you, his bare skin sliding against yours, as he makes himself at home between your thighs.

He slides his hand between you, his index and middle fingers parted to frame your clit as he rubs your cunt, occasionally tracing the swollen nub that begs for his attention. The whimpers that escape your lips only urge him to tease you further, forcing you to arch into his touch, chasing any semblance of release.

Your hips ache as you thrust to meet his hand, fighting the rolling of his hips as he takes what he wants from you. His cock driving into your wet heat, his hand between you teasing and caressing your clit, his forehead against yours as he holds himself over you with his free hand.

Before long, he feels his orgasm approach, too soon, but perhaps not for you, as you beg him to let you come, and how could he deny you when you plead so sweetly?

Not that he could ever deny any request made from your lips.

He pulls you close, torso to torso, and kisses you hard, a hungry clash of lips and tongues and teeth that leaves you both breathless, greedily swallowing your moans as if they were all he needed to survive.

It feels like a revelation every time, and this occasion is no different. When you both finally come down from the pleasurable peak he'd dragged you to, you still feel like you're floating, clinging to him just to stay grounded.

As you both lie there in your cozy bed, panting and nestling close, his large frame fitting around you so completely, he smoothes back flyaway tendrils of your hair from your face and regards you with a strange look, something akin to fondness but more hungry, more desperate, more obsessive.

As your breathing slows and you return to the mortal plain, you look up at him and smile.

“So. About today. I could show you the city? You haven’t seen beyond the forge, my love, and while it is no Gondolin, it has its charms, we’ve built something beautiful here. I want you to see it.” Your eyes sparkle at the idea of showing Sauron around your city, and he cannot help but give in, even as he wants to stay here with you as long as possible.

“Then I must let our friend know he shall have to do the work of the Valar himself today.” He chuckles, brushing his nose against yours.

~

Hand in hand with your husband, you cannot help but feel at peace as you stroll through the streets of Eregion.

Musicians fill the air with song, lively market stalls line the streets, and children run and play amongst the revellers.

Your fellow Elves are still a little in awe of him, the crowds parting as you make your way through the city.

“Do you never tire of this?” You ask, a blush creeping up your neck, gesturing at the people nodding and bowing and staring as he walks past with you.

His derisive snort should tell you everything you need to know as he smirks, casting a glance at you, squeezing your hand to soothe your discomfort. You were so used to serving the people of Eregion, that this sudden change in treatment was unsettling. You appreciated thanks for your work, but anything beyond that was too much; this nigh-worship was almost unbearable.

Sauron, however, was flourishing.

“It is what we deserve, my love, to be revered. We are more than them, after all.” He has always enjoyed your attentions, your worship, but he cannot deny that this satisfies his need to rule in a way that your love alone cannot touch.

“You might be, love, but I am merely one of them. So it feels strange…” You trail off as you regard him closely, noticing just how at ease he seems to be.

“Let’s go back.” You fight the growing dread in the pit of your stomach, wishing that you had just stayed in bed with him instead.

“Are you quite alright, love?” He turns to you, searching your gaze, only now noticing your concern.

“Yes, fine, darling, I just,” you search for an excuse, any excuse, “I’m just tired. Perhaps a lie down will do the trick, if you would join me?”

A flicker of irritation crosses his face; he might as well have gone to the forge today, if you were going to cut short your trip into the city.

“I might see how Lord Celebrimbor is coming along with the rings, and let you rest.” He gives you a smile but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and your stomach flips.

“Of course, love, I’ll see you later then.”

He presses a kiss to your knuckles before disappearing into the crowd, a strange sense of trepidation filling you as he leaves.

You know him well enough, unfortunately, that you can immediately sense when he is up to something; an itching in the back of your mind and a dull ache in your heart. Nefarious or not, you have to know what it is.

~

You peer through the door, ajar enough to see your husband in his leather apron sitting at Celebrimbor’s work bench, the forge otherwise empty. He is hard at work, his back to the door, and you can't tell what is consuming all of his attention. Most of his attention.

"Love, why do you linger at the door?" He asks, raising his head and smirking, before turning and leaning with an arm over the back of the chair, beckoning you to him.

You smile hesitantly, fingers fidgeting with the sleeve of your dress as you open the door and cross the room.

He pats his thigh, taking your hand and guiding you to sit in his lap as you wrap your arms around his neck. Leaning forward to nuzzle his nose in your neck, he soaks you up, breathing in your scent and relishing the feeling of you so close. Your anxiety melts, the knots in your stomach untying themselves.

"Are you feeling better, love?" He murmurs, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Yes, much." It is not a lie; simply being with him in his natural habitat soothes your nerves.

He hums in acknowledgement, nose still at your throat, the deep vibration rippling through you.

"I hate to worry about you, darling," he remarks as he brushes his fingers through your hair.

"You'll never have to." You reply softly, drawing back to meet his gaze, so intense, so focused on taking you in.

He smiles wide, his eyes creasing just how you love, a genuine expression that has become more and more rare as his stay in Eregion has gone on. It warms your heart and makes you reach for him once more, planting your lips on his, Sauron making an undignified "hmph" in surprised response.

He could stay there forever in your arms, kissing you softly and languidly, letting himself melt into you. But the reason for his visit to the forge today sits on the bench behind you both, and he cannot forget it.

"I have a gift for you." He pulls away to reach for something on the bench behind you.

“A gift, my love? You are gift enough, I need nothing from you.” You laugh, heat flushing your cheeks as your husband takes your hand.

“How can I call myself the Lord of Gifts if I cannot even gift my wife a small trinket for her devotion?” He teases you fondly, his broad smile reaching his eyes, making them crinkle at the corners in the way that makes you want to kiss every crease and wrinkle from his face just to make them multiply a hundredfold.

“Close your eyes, love,” he tells you, still holding your hand with his other hand behind his back.

You do so with a dramatic sigh, grinning and rolling your eyes.

You feel him slip something cool and smooth onto your finger, and you feel a rush of his power through you that you have not felt in such a long time. You can feel it course through your veins, the towering inferno that is your husband’s will, his might and determination in one tiny object.

“Open.” He commands you, his excitement unmistakable.

A slim golden band graces your finger, radiating your husband’s power. There is something about it, something that makes you never want to take it off.

“Do you like it? Say something,” he laughs nervously, eager to hear your thoughts.

“It is… quite something, my love. Beautiful.” You can’t stop staring at it, the plain golden ring catching the light and throwing off an inner radiance that captivates you.

His face lights up, a wide smile brightening his handsome features as he takes your hand in his once more.

“I wanted to forge us something worthy of our bond. Something to strengthen us, to fortify what we have. To bind us together.” He looks into your eyes hopefully, yearning for the eternal life together that you’ve been denied thus far.

“It is… precious, my love. And if it works, you shall never be rid of me.” You clasp his hand in yours, resting your forehead on his, breathing him in.

“I shall forge one of my own, but yours was more pressing. They shall be a pair when I am done.”

You cannot help but smile fondly at him; thinking of you before himself.

“Thank you, love, I shall never take it off.”

You raise your hand to admire his handiwork, always in such awe of his talents, and notice him eyeing you hungrily.

"Are you quite alright, darling?" You tease him, as he leans over you, a large hand tracing your neck, pushing your hair back over your shoulder.

“I need you,” he murmurs, kissing your neck as he presses you against Celebrimbor’s workbench.

“Not here, love, let’s go home,” you try to push him off, laughing but the thought of being discovered like this in the forge, where anyone could find you, sends a shiver down your spine and your stomach unexpectedly flutters.

“No. Right here.” He runs his hands over your curves, ravenous for what only you can provide him. “Right now. I have to have you.”

He rucks up your skirts, lifting you by your hips onto the bench behind you, baring you to his lustful gaze, and to anyone else who could walk in.

“Is the door locked at least?” You ask him, your stomach still tying itself in knots.

“Of course, love, do you think I want anyone bearing witness to the mere sight of you like this? You are mine, and mine alone.” He growls, deep in his chest, as he grips your thighs, digging into the soft flesh with his fingernails, leaving red crescent marks to mark you as his.

He can’t resist the sight of your wet cunt, has to taste you, flexing his tongue to delve into your entrance as he plays with your swollen clit. He pulls you closer, throwing your legs over his shoulders, gripping your ass to keep your cunt against his face.

You can’t help but roll your hips, begging him for more, riding his face, taking full advantage of the fact that with his regained strength, Sauron doesn’t actually need to breathe.

His iron grip keeps you pinned against him as you arch your back and moan breathily for anyone who might be passing to hear.

He senses your orgasm approaching, and thrusts two long deft fingers inside your cunt, stroking your walls as he laps at your clit. Your body quakes as you give yourself to him, your peak crashing over you with no respite, Sauron drawing every ounce of pleasure he can from your aching cunt with a delicious gleam in his eye.

Finally he gives you some kind of reprieve, drawing back to admire his handiwork.

He wipes his chin with the back of his hand, smirking as he pulls himself up to meet your lips. You can taste yourself on him as he kisses you hard, teeth dragging on your bottom lip, hands kneading greedily at your thighs.

"Are you ready for me, love? Always ready for me, aren't you, always so good..." he gasps in your ear as he slams his cock inside you in one solid thrust, rolling his hips and relishing in the feeling of you, tight and hot around him.

He thinks he hears footsteps on the stairs. He slows his pace just a fraction to listen, not that you seem to notice.

The door swings open a little, but whoever it is does not immediately enter, startled by the noises coming from inside the forge.

Thankfully your back is to the door, and one glare from Sauron sends the smith at the door running back down the stairs, leaving the door ajar. He rolls his eyes and smirks against your lips, crashing his lips into yours with renewed vigour, bucking his hips and slamming his cock deep inside you.

The thought of the world having borne witness to the love you share, it sends him wild and obliterates any sane thought from his mind, the only notion in his head to ravage you senseless.

"So good for me, such a good girl," he murmurs as he takes you in your exhausted glory, your limbs shaking and your cunt quivering.

He leans down to take your nipple in his mouth, mouthing at your tender flesh before nipping with his sharp teeth, a loud moan escaping your throat.

Working his way up to your neck, he lavishes your bare skin with his tongue, sucking hard on the sensitive skin of your throat, making sure to leave a bruise no one will miss.

You whimper as he slips his cock from inside you, marvelling at the state of you, dripping with his cum.

"Always so appreciative, aren't you darling? Always so giving, so grateful to receive whatever I give you. And you've given me everything-"

He picks you up, your arms clinging to his neck as you instinctively wrap your legs around his hips.

"-but you can give me so much more."

He slams his cock inside you again, letting gravity do its work as you're stretched to your limit, moaning as he angles his hips just right so you see stars on every thrust.

"Oh, darling, is that too much?" He mocks you fondly before swallowing your whines, stealing the breath from your lungs in his need, no, greed for you.

With you balanced in his large hands, his muscles flexing with every thrust, he bounces you on his cock like you weigh nothing, as if you were merely a plaything for him to use and spoil and defile. His, and his alone.

He can't get enough of you, of the sight of you ruined and writhing at his touch, desperate for more even as he wrings another orgasm from your overstimulated cunt.

His own peak crashes into him like a wave on the shore, pulsing inside you as your walls clench around him.

"I love you, I love you, love you, love you..." he gasps over and over into your neck, shuddering against you as he leans you back against Celebrimbor’s work bench.

You can do nothing but kiss him, words beyond you, your tongue capable of nothing but kissing your husband.

"So good for me, beautiful girl, so good..." he murmurs softly into your neck as his cock twitches inside you, his seed dripping down your inner thighs.

When your legs stop shaking, he lets you stand, still leaning on him. He combs through your hair with his fingers, tucking it behind your ears. Then he glances down at the mess he's left between your legs and smirks.

"Leave it."

You raise an eyebrow at him, already reaching to clean yourself up before you leave the forge.

"I'll be home soon. I'll do it myself."

You finally realise what he's saying and squirm at the idea of trying to walk home in the state you're in. Defiled in all the ways that count. But the glint in his eye warns you not to argue.

True to his word, he arrives home not long after you, so you don't wait too long for his tongue to clean up the mess he made.

~

There are warning signs. You missed most, if not all of them. Or wilfully ignored them.

But when the siege horns blare, in your heart of hearts, you know it is Sauron’s doing.

The first place you think to find him is the forge, but instead you find Celebrimbor hunched over his bench, painstakingly at work.

"My lord? Do you not hear the horns? We need to leave!" You try to take his arm to hoist him to his feet, but he shudders and throws you off.

He catches you off balance and you stumble, throwing an arm out to steady yourself.

To your surprise, a large warm hand takes yours and keeps you upright.

"I told you not to come here, love." Sauron remarks, his tone eerily neutral, as if you haven't just stumbled into a nightmare.

"I was... I was looking for you." You mutter, still watching Celebrimbor, concerned for his state of mind as he rambles about mice and candles.

"I told you to stay at home where you'd be safe. Was that simple instruction so beyond you?"

Your head snaps toward him as the sharp knife of his words pierces you between the ribs.

A flurry of questions and indignant remarks fills your head but you merely stare at him, mouth agape, as he disregards you, stepping to the bench to inspect his precious rings.

"How much longer?" His impatience has always been dangerous, but it is in this moment you realise just how so.

"Soon... just the final touches, they are nearly complete." Celebrimbor flinches as Sauron places the ring back on the bench and takes his shoulder in hand.

"Do you hear that? I kept the storm at bay but you chose to peel back the curtain. Your city is falling, but the sooner you deliver the rings, the more of your city you save. Do not fail them."

He takes your hand and leads you out of sight, pushing you up against a wall. His large hand wraps around your neck with such ease, it startles you, and you can do nothing but whimper against him.

"I told you not to come here." He whispers in your ear, hot breath tickling your neck.

"I'm sorry-" you gasp as his thumb constricts a little around your throat, "Needed to know you were safe."

He loosens his grip and smiles fondly at you, though not quite letting it reach his eyes, as your hearts pound in unison.

"Oh darling. Aren't you just perfect?" Then he kisses you hard, before turning you around, pressing your face against the cold hard stone.

Your stomach drops as you realise what he's planning. Surely not, not as the city crumbles around you and the Lord of Eregion sits mere feet away?

"Love, no, not now-"

He enters you with a practised touch, knowing exactly how he has to please you to ease his way in. Your body betrays you as he fucks you without mercy, taking his pleasure from your needy moans and wanton gasps as you succumb to the feeling of him drilling into you from behind.

This is new, as usually he delights in studying your face for every microexpression, taking you in as he ravages you. Now it is solely about what he can take from you, the only thought in his head to come as quickly as inhumanly possible.

It leaves you breathless and panting, and when he peaks, you find yourself grinding into him to try and find some kind of release too.

He chuckles in your ear, thrusting his hand between your thighs.

"What's that, love? Weren't you saying no? Do you want me to let you come? Oh you do? You're lucky that your pleasure is mine, or I might not be so giving..."

His words fade to nothing as your ears ring with siege horns and explosions and the mind-bending sensation of orgasming around Sauron’s cock, even as you know what his plans have wrought.

~

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” you murmur over and over, holding the Lord of Eregion in your lap, trying to heal his wounds well enough that he can finish his work.

The wounds inflicted by the man you call husband in a moment of cruel impatience.

“Amarië, I need him to work, the rings-”

“-will be finished when he can stand. A moment’s peace, for pity’s sake.” You interrupt your husband, turning to look at him to find no pity in his eyes, only jealous rage.

“Let me work, so he can work. This is your doing after all, you should know it will take time.”

Your tone wounds him, the acid in your words corroding his black heart, but he cannot let himself pause in the pursuit of his goal, not when the rings for Men are within such tantalisingly close reach.

The melody you sing over Celebrimbor to knit his flesh eventually soothes his pain and stems the bleeding enough that soon he is sat at his workbench, still wincing, but for your sake, presses on with finishing the rings.

“Watch him, I’ll be back shortly.” Never has Sauron spoken so abruptly with you, and after everything you’ve witnessed today, you’re loath to let him leave with no rebuke.

“After everything He did to you, you would inflict the same torture on someone who has only shown you kindness?”

He glares down at you, only the tiniest furrow of his brow giving anything away about his current train of thought.

"It is… necessary. If he had done what I’d asked, I wouldn’t have been forced to-"

"Absolutely not. Do not do this. Do not blame him for what you have done. That is exactly what Morgoth did to you, what I nursed you through, so don’t try that with me." You’ve never been stern with him before so you’re not sure how he will take it, and frankly neither is he.

“This is not you!”

“But it is me.” He leans in to whisper in your ear. “You just haven’t been paying attention.”

Your stomach drops as he smirks, stalking down the stairs. He looks back up at you a moment.

“Do not let him leave.” His tone cuts you like a knife, and when the door swings closed, you crumble to the floor, head in your arms.

~

"How long have you known?" Galadriel can barely look at you as your tears blind you.

It takes you a long time to answer.

"Too long. I thought he had changed! At first I thought him dead, then he came back so different, I wanted-"

"You wanted your husband." She looks you in the eye, and once again, you feel a wave of nausea overwhelm you.

“It is a twisted, evil fate, that I would take back in a heartbeat, but there is no earthly force that can break us apart. Believe me, I’ve tried.” Your voice breaks and Galadriel cannot help but embrace you; she knows how heavy the bond between couples is, and knows that to try to undo it is a fool’s errand.

“I just want to come home.” You sob into her shoulder, heart breaking for her that she must be the one to comfort you, after all your husband has done to hurt her and her family, and what he has done to your city.

"Are you with me?" She asks, hands on your shoulders as you pull away.

You don't even have to think. Your broken heart speaks for you.

"Whatever it takes."

~

You find him on a cliff's edge, surrounded by orcs that bow and simper as you pass.

"I knew you'd come." He greets you, though he doesn't turn from looking down over the cliff, as if his eye is trained on something no mortal being could see.

"Predictable as always." You quip, but your anger bleeds through and the edge in your voice finally makes him face you.

"You're upset-"

"Oh, really?" You interrupt him with a snort.

"I tried to save Eregion, but Adar-"

"Oh no, don't do that, we both know that was your plan all along. You have always played the long game, don't doubt your abilities now, dear husband."

He smirks, stepping closer, taking your hands in his.

“Tell me the truth, please, just for once.” Your anger and your grief battle for dominance, and even now he feels a tiny pang of guilt.

“You have always known my purpose, my love-”

You interrupt him with your fists, so angry with him now that words fail you. He holds your wrists calmly, impassively, speaking over your outburst as if it had not happened, as if you were merely taking tea on your balcony.

“You have always known that Middle Earth is sick, that it needs healing, and who better than I to do so? I alone have the power and the will to remake this land, and you, my Queen, you will help me fix this broken world.” He is so sincere, smiling down at you as if it is already decided.

You try to pull away, shaking your head and fighting his every movement to keep you in his arms.

“I will not. I cannot, Mairon, I won’t.” You catch yourself and gasp. “Even now, even now I call you by the name you do not deserve.”

The tic in his jaw is back, and he inclines his head slightly, daring you to continue, warning you not to.

“Do you want to hear me say it? The name my kin gave you eons ago? The name you swore was dead and buried, along with your designs to rule the world?”

“You make it sound so inelegant, ‘rule the world’, is it my fault that the peoples of Middle Earth need uniting under a strong leader, one who will bring them the order and balance they so desire?” He is still using that calm, condescending tone that drives you mad, that once soothed you but now feels like fingernails under your skin.

“Is it balance if it is by force? You cannot trick them into acceptance, Mairon.” You know that to reason with him is folly, but you have to try, against all odds, to make him see reason in his madness.

“You want to be worshipped as a god.” You whisper, unable to believe this is the man you married, that you loved. Love. Love, still, as you rail against the feeling, hopeless to break it.

“And you, my goddess. It is as it should be, the right way of things, the people need order, and we can give it to them. You and I.” He traces your face softly, making you shiver. “Only us.”

You fight to break free of his embrace, hands on his chest, but you’re damned if he will let you go, his grip like the iron crown he wishes to place on your head.

"There is no 'us’. Not anymore. There can be no "us", for as long as you are unrepentant, I cannot bear to look upon you." The words taste acrid in your mouth, betraying every feeling still plaguing you deep in your soul.

His face twists, biting back every poisonous word he wishes to fling at you.

"You want to heal Middle Earth? How can one so broken know anything of healing?"

Despite your venom, and the wrenching in your souls, he tenderly holds your chin, upturning your face to him; even now you know exactly who he is, his radiance blinds you. Every heartbeat, every slow exhale, it all seems to stop, as you study his face for what you hope is the last time.

“What makes it worse, what really hurts,” your voice is unsteady, betraying the maelstrom in your heart, “is that in another life, another time, we could have been really happy.” The dam breaks and you cannot help but let a hot tear fall, willing the rest to remain unshed until you are alone.

“Weren’t we?” He seems genuinely confused, crushed even, voice thick with all the things he wants to say, all the things he knows would break you.

The hard expression you’ve worked so hard to maintain cracks; yes, you were, you were so blissfully happy, in those golden days where it was just the two of you, no war, no suffering, just two lovers meeting.

“Do not make me say it,” you choke out, tears now falling freely; gods, you had been so happy, and you wish with all your might to be taken back to those days in your lover’s arms, all tender kisses and warm embraces.

Even in your absolute sorrow, he cannot help but claim you one last time, pressing his lips to yours like you are his last meal on this mortal plain. Unwilling in spirit, but your body melts into him, desperate to forget for just a second before you turn your back on him forever. You can feel the ebb and flow of your souls crackling and churning around you, becoming palpable in the very air you breathe.

You break away first, hesitant to allow this moment to end. But it must.

“Do not go where I cannot follow.” He murmurs into the hollow of your throat, as he grips your hair and pulls your head back. With a heavy sigh you press your lips to his forehead, and back away, his fingers trailing yours as you part.

“You can follow, any time you wish.” Your voice breaks, as does your heart, clean in two, as you turn your back and leave him on that accursed precipice.

The golden ring on your finger seems almost to pulsate with heat; indeed you had quite forgotten it was there. You raise your hand to inspect it, tiny engraved letters filling the band that you had never seen before.

You could feel Sauron’s power in the ring, its binding magic pulling your heart back to the comfort of his embrace.

“Read it.” His voice behind you is hard but pleading, wrenching your heart.

The script on the ring burns red like coals on the fire as you hold it up, trying to make out what he engraved there.

Two Rings to bind what Evil tried to rend,

Two Rings for a King and Queen, their bond none can transcend,

Two Rings to rule them all, a power with no end

A tiny part of you is touched that he poured so much of himself into a ring meant to soften Morgoth’s curse upon the pair of you. The rest of you is incensed that he would use your love to satisfy his craving for power.

“You simply cannot resist, can you?” Your voice shakes with anger as you turn back to face him, his face falling as he realises that perhaps you would not be so easily won.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he shakes his head as if he hasn’t an inkling what might have upset you.

“You know very well. A ring to bind me to you? Very well, you told me what it was when you gave it to me. But a ring to bring you the power you crave? To bind all the other rings of power to you, to dominate the free peoples of Middle Earth with a trinket? I cannot be a part of it!”

You stop for a moment, pausing in the realisation that your husband has not yet, to your knowledge, forged his own ring. Perhaps there is hope.

“I cannot be a part of it. But I will take it with me.” You say, holding up your hand. “For safekeeping.”

He does not argue. Instead he smirks and tells you, “I’d have it no other way.”

Perhaps you should be concerned, but surely it would do more harm in his hands than yours.

“You don’t want this.” For the first time in millennia, his voice shakes as he calls after you.

You turn on your heel and search his face for any sign at all that he might still come with you.

“You don’t know my heart.” It tastes a lie as it leaves your lips, but it’s the only retort you have.

With a soft smile, knowing and terrible, he replies, “Darling, I am your heart.”

The space where your heart used to be twists and shatters, leaving you breathless.

“Then you know how much this hurts. Please, don’t make it worse.” With that, you take your leave, refusing to turn around without him at your back, abandoning him to his chosen fate.

“Amarië,” you hear him softly behind you, as you refuse to look back.

“Amarië, do not foresake me!” It is an interesting choice of words, considering Morgoth’s curse that dooms you both to the other’s absence, and the irony is not lost on you.

“Do not let Him take you from me again!”

You stop in your tracks, turning on your heel.

“This is not His doing, my love.” You hold fast as he stalks towards you, trembling slightly as you take in your husband in all his fury.

He towers above you, taking your face in his hands.

“It is yours.” You whisper, your strength waning as he lowers himself to claim you in a crushing kiss, hands wrapping tightly around your neck and waist.

You can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do anything but kiss him back with abandon, feel his hands digging into your sides, the pain in your heart-

“Give up this madness. Come with me. Please, you said once you’d do anything for the love of me. So come with me.” You plead with him, grasping his hands tightly as if it were possible to change his mind simply by imbuing his flesh with your will.

After what feels like the longest pause of your life, Sauron gazing into your eyes with an inscrutable expression, he rests his forehead to yours.

“I must heal Middle Earth. And I will do it with or without you.” His voice breaks, like your heart.

You pull away and nod, refusing to look at him.

“Then know this is not your master’s doing, it is entirely your own.”

You turn and start walking, in desperate hope your people will forgive you, will take you in now you have nowhere else to turn.

He screams your name until he is hoarse, but he does not follow. He can always find you; time and space are no obstacles to the likes of your bond.

But that does not fill the hole in his arms where the world used to be, the space meant for you.

[palskippah]

Hi! Drew this based over a scene in Santa Clarita Diet bc Abby's relationship with her parents is so funny but also it's clear that she loves them aaa

Anyways, every once in a while Cyrus realizes that his other dad is actually cooler than he gives him credit for sjdfksj

Under the cut are some more thoughts!

-Btw I hope you get the 'of course' wink sjdkfjs

>My mom always does it whenever I ask a question that could only use a 'yes' as an answer, instead of nodding or talking and I think it's cool sjkdf (I don't use it bc I'm very uncoordinated, imagine I accidentally double wink or do the frog blink 😭)

-Cyrus is often so mean to him that whenever he's genuinely nice, sometimes Ambrosius' suspicious and wondering if he's being sarcastic or mocking him, even if Cyrus tries to tell him that it's nothing of that and he means it

>Like that scene in Santa Clarita Diet where Abby compliments her parents and they stare for a few seconds all seriously and then one says, don't listen to her honey, we did great (and it reminded me so much of that one scene in the comic with Ballister and Ambrosius sjdkfjs)

>This one:

>I really wanna redraw it like the scene in the show. Ballister going good job and Ambrosius just staring very calculating, and then going, don't listen to him, men, we DID get him >:(

-Also drew this because ever since Cyrus has been born Ambrosius couldn't help but feel that his son just knew that he wasn't a good person, the way he was always frowning at him (that's just his face, like Ballister's) and when he grows up, he seems to not like him much either pipipi

>Anyways one day (being a moody teenager) Cyrus says the typical I hate you, dad!!! D:< and locks himself in his room and Ambrosius' like, D':

>He's always mean too but that's just his teenager personality, sarcastic and stuff and Ballister doesn't take it personal because he knows his son is just like that (hopefully for the meanwhile, until he grows out of it), Ambrosius knows too but he's more sensitive and can't help taking it a bit personal 😔

-Also I got another idea for a small comic based over a kdrama I watched, where the daughter (the oldest of the two siblings) blamed herself over her dad leaving their family, and hated him for leaving too and many things, just very complicated.

>And aaa imagine Cyrus just never saying it but knowing that both of his dads' lives would've been different if he hadn't been born. Like maybe all of Ballister's plans to overthrow the Institute and stuff took longer, and some phases in his plan had to be put in hold because of him and stuff.

>Also for a while he feels like Ballister is bound to Ambrosius for life because of him (little did he know that those two would've been around each other their whole lives anyways, even if he never existed sjdkfs) then he realizes that they actually like and love each other, and then they try having something, or smth, and then he's like oh :) because seeing both of your parents loving each other and getting along is a very nice feeling (I've been told, idk from first-hand experience🧍 cries)

>Actually, I drew this unfinished thing about that, based over another scene in the kdrama I mentioned, where the daughter says, after being told that if her parents hadn't met, she wouldn't have been born, that it'd would've been for the better.

>I know the writing is terrible but Cyrus' complaining about Ambrosius and ending his rant with 'I wish they just hadn't met at all', and Nimona saying that she used to feel the same, but then realized that Cyrus wouldn't have been born, and Cyrus was supposed to say next, 'maybe that would've been better' and then Nimona doesn't answer and just stares at him wwhwh

-AND of course it's not Cyrus' fault that Ballister decided to have him, but he still has the feeling of having messed up his dad's life, and let's say that Ballister realizes for whatever reasons his feelings, connecting dots and stuff.

>So, imagine a conversation where he's saying very reassuringly, Meeting your father and later having you is one of the best things that had happened to me, or something like that. And Cyrus is resolutely not looking at him, but his eyes are getting teary, even if he feigns not acknowledging Ballister's words because how embarrassing, and how vulnerable he feels, but also he feels so relieved and loved too.

>And he doesn't know what to do with the feelings, also being a teenager with no feelings is his thing, y'know, so he's like, Just so you know, I'm not crying over what you said, I don't care about that, something just got in my eye- and Ballister just smiles because his son is terrible at communicating his feelings, but it's okay and he gets it, and just says, of course, let me get it out for you, and then he wipes Cyrus' tears and Cyrus gets a tad bit more teary but it's fine because his dad doesn't mind wiping some more tears wiwiiw

>(projecting so much into him bc when I watched that one scene in the show I cried bc I've felt the way the protagonist did (now I know better tho, I'm the coolest thing to happen to my mom yippiee) and it's a very ugly feeling, so of course I'm giving it to a character whwehw)

Anyways, that's it! I love them so much, I hope to make some more comics about the thingies I said above sjkdfd

[mydirtyvalentine]

THIS ^

the fact that despite everything, despite the odds stacked against him (and john), despite the letter being washed away, and despite the distance (both physical and timely) that spans between himself and oscar, that arthur was able to find a reason to keep going because he turned to that letter.

i fully agree with your phrasing of it being a last hail mary.

we can hear how resigned arthur sounded, how certain he was that this would be his final moment. for him to turn to the letter in those final moments, whether it be in search of a reason to keep going, or just seeking a comfort missed at the end of it all, oh it just shatters me to think about.

the idea that arthur was ready for this to be it, for these to be his final moments, and that perhaps the final thing he does before he leaves is to hear whatever words oscar left for him, THAT makes me feel so many things.

DO NOT FUCKING SPEAK TO ME I AM ILL

oh my godddd the fact that in arthur’s final moments (at least what he thought and decided would be) he chose to want to read oscar’s letter??!

in the darkest of times, all he wanted was to find comfort in the words of someone he left behind.

stfu im gonna be sick

[youareatragedy]

I just think it’s sad that Feyre doesn’t have her own individual life anymore. Her life revolves around Rhys. Heck, she doesn’t even have her own death anymore.

All her fears during her relationship with Tamlin became a reality, just with someone else. The only thing she has that is her own is painting. Maybe her powers as well, but she doesn‘t do anything with them and she‘s trained by Rhys.

Her very soul belongs to Rhys. Their relationship, which everyone claims is healthy, just seems so suffocating. Ever since acomaf, it has either been Feysand or just Rhys. Barely just Feyre. It seems that the fandom finds it difficult to separate these 2 as well.

Idk what freedom Feyre is bragging about here. She really left her old cage only for her to be trapped in another cage. I mean.. good for her? This one has more space and it’s bedecked with jewels, but in the end it‘s still a cage.

I agree 100%. Feyre is just an idea now. People don’t really care about what happens to her. She did her "job" as a consort: being a wife and giving Rhys (the character the fandom truly cares about) an heir. There’s a feys-nd month going on right now, and most of what I’ve seen is Feyre in gowns, crowns, holding and playing with Nyx, or painting, or being in an event/party. Rarely do they portray her as an actual leader or a warrior.

The fandom reduced her to that and then cries victim when no one takes Feyre seriously anymore or cares about her opinion. It’s sad because as much as I didn’t like her in the first book, I at least wanted her to be free of the pressure she was under back then (she was 19!). As long as the fandom can’t separate Feyre from Rhysand to properly criticize her character development, I think Feyre will always be doomed and will lack any real substance as a character. SJM herself seems blind to the misogyny Feyre’s character has endured.

[tinybeetiny]

Very Bold: K.Y

SMUT | 18+ | MDNI

I think this might be the longest one… idk I just couldn’t stop for him. I also wanted to show him a way you wouldn't think but honestly something he could be hiding

->Starring: Rockstar!YeosangXafab!Reader

->Genre: Smut, some angst

->Cw: Explicit language, public... flashing?, spanking, unprotected sex, dom Yeosang eeeee, praise, degradation

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist | Rock Never Dies Masterlist

“Uh shit babe I’m gonna be late” Yeosang’s breaths came out as pants as you continued to rub yourself on him “Almost there” you squeaked out feeling the burning sensation in the pit of your stomach. Yeosang had to be on stage in 5 minutes but you needed him so bad and like the sweet doting boyfriend he is he took you to his dressing room to let you hump him like a dog in heat. With each drag of your hips you’re thrown closer and closer to the edge until a loud banging interrupts you “Come on Yeosang. We need to be one stage NOW” Hongjoong’s voice held some irritation. Yeosang sighs as he moves you off of him, gently sliding you onto the couch below you “Sorry love. We gotta finish this later” he sighs, eyes apologetic “But I was so close” you whine. He gives you a quick kiss before rushing out of the room.

You stand on the side of the stage watching the boys perform, your panties uncomfortably sticky. His gaze falls over to you and you look around seeing everyone preoccupied. Your eyes return to his and he sees a mischievous glint in them. He raises an eyebrow trying to figure out what you're planning. Your fingers hook into the waistband of your lacy thong pulling them down and letting them drop to the floor. It takes all of his self-control not to say fuck it and just leave with you. He watches you reach down, picking up the skimpy fabric and accidentally tossing it behind you. You give him an 'oops' face and promptly turn around, bending over giving him a clear view pussy. His concetration waivers and Yunho looks over at him.

The rest of the concert seems to drag on for Yeosang. When the show finally ended he was the first one off the stage. He beelined his way to you, grabbing your wrist and dragging you to his dressing room. The praise from the staff is just an echo as he breezes by them. He practically throws you into the room (politely because he's bby girl) and he slams the door shut "You think that little shit was cute huh?" His breath fans against your face. Oh he's angry angry and it's embarrassing to say but it turns you on. The little vein in his forehead protruding and the way he's pinning you against the door has your arousal dripping down your thigh "I have no idea what you're talking about." you say innocently giving him wide eyes "So you want to be like that?" He takes a step back "Go bend over the arm of the sofa" His tone scarily serious. Yeosang may be in a rock band but he's as soft as a puppy so seeing him this just made you feel things.

You skip your way over to the sofa, bending over looking back at him, and wiggling your hips antagonizing him "Look at you” he tsks, his hand coming down to rub your exposed ass “Do you like being a little attention whore hm?” He sneers bending over you, his voice close to your ear. Your backside is pressed flush to his front and you can feel his hard on through his tight pants rub against your exposed cunt. You shake your head “No? No what? You don’t like it?” You shake your head again “M’not an attention whore” you pout “Oh really? So you didn’t just bend over showing your whole bare ass pussy for everyone to see?” You whine at his words “Why do you have to say it like that” You grumble "Maybe because that's exactly what happened and look. It seems like you enjoyed every minute of it." He takes a small step back, fingers gliding through your wet folds gathering your slick "You're so wet. What...? Did the thought of someone seeing you exposed turn you on that much?" you hear him unzip his pants, and the metal from his belt hits the floor as he slides them down his legs "No" you say quietly, the humiliation very present "Oh really? The mess you're making on my fingers says otherwise" When he pulls his fingers away strings of arousal stretch making his cock jump.

He grabs the base of his cock and rubs his tip through your folds "Need to fill you up" He mumbles pushing his tip into your sopping hole. You let out a gasp when he pushes further into you. His hand comes to spread your ass cheeks, loving the way he's stretching you out "So tight for me". He lets out a sigh of relief when he finally bottoms out. He stays stagnit knowing if he moved right now he would cum instantly. Your walls are tight around him almost as if they were molding to him, just for him. He watches as your wrtith around trying to coax some sort of stimulation out of him but it doesn't worlk. Instead, he simple admires your figure, enamored by every curve. His fingers caress your skin as they slide up your back and he pushes ever so slightly causing your arch just how he likes. When he finally moves his hips they're slow, feeling every drag as your tigh walls suck him in further and further.

He gives you a couple more slow thruts before stilling again. You mouth opens to protest but before you can utter a word his hand comes down with a harsh smack, the sound vibrating off the walls. Your pitiful whine fills his ears and he marvels at the pretty red handprint on your skin. His hand comes down on the other cheek giving it a matching mark. Little cries escape you and he wants more. He lands another smack and yet another whine leaves your lips. He continues his assault until your skin is hot and a beautiful shade of red. His hand grip your hips as he pounds into you, fucking you into the couch.

"That's it baby take it like the whore you are" his head falls back as he feels you constricting around him "Fuck Sangie that feels so good" "Yeah? You wanna cum?" "Yes yes please I wanna cum" "Then say it, tell me you're a fucking whore." You shake your head no against the cushion "Oh... okay then" He pulls out completely leaving you feeling empty. Your head spins around to look at him with tears in your eyes, your hips pushing back trying to find him again. "Ah ah. Say it." "Imawhore" You whisper out in a rush "I can't hear you" "I'm a whore, I'm a dirty whore for you Sangie I- fuuckk" You cry out when he slams back into you. His hips move at an unforgiving pace "Fuck baby cum, cum for me" It didn't take long for you to start spasming around him “That’s it. Such a good girl” he praises. He pushes you further into the leather material. Your body lays limply feeling worn out but as he continues to pound into you the feeling of overstimulation begins to set in

"Ah shit baby. M'gonna cum, gotta pull out" His voice comes out strained as he feels the tension building, begging to be released “No please cum in me Sangie please” he lets a little humorless laugh “You really think you deserve it?” You give him a little nod “I don’t think so. What exactly have you done to deserve it huh?” He smirks when you don’t say anything. He pulls out and pumps his cock "No no no I'm sorry. Please please please" any other time he would give you what you wanted especially when you beg so nicely but not this time. He's pretty sure Hongjoong saw, maybe even San and the thought of them potentially seeing you so exposed had him shooting hot ropes of cum all over your ass. He lets out a string of breathy moans, hips stuttering as he milks himself dry over you. He grabs a few tissues and carefully cleans you up. Your limbs whine as he gently pulled you up. Your eyes lazily look up at him "So... Did you like the view?"

Taglist: @e3ellie @yoonshiiu @yunlazia @jonghoslilstar @sugakooie

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@life-is-a-game-of-thrones @atzlordz

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[siggiedraws]

Regarding your post on your opinions on SonElise, I do also like the side of Sonic we get to see when he's with Elise! Elise is someone he can take his time and relax around, he doesn't feel pressured by her. We see a softer and more vulnerable side to him in the game, even progressively getting more comfortable with her hugs.

After Elise revives him and he catches her, he even hugs her closer to him. That means alot coming from Sonic, considering he isn't a big hugger.

People say Sonic has no reason to love Elise, but I disagree. There's all the reasons I listed above, him being able to take his time and be more vulnerable around her. It's also clear he likes her kindness, tenacity, and her thrill seeking side.

(He does also have a thing for tall human women 🤭 he does make lovey eyes at her in one of the cutscenes, so he most likely also thinks she's pretty)

Idk I just really like this ship alot. I thought Sonic was written in a way that was in character for him if he had feelings for someone. Sonic's feelings for Elise are shown subtly, in his own way. He isn't a huge flirt. We also know he has feelings for Elise from the trial of love and the love duet in his end credits, some pretty obvious implications there.

great analysis of how Sonic behaves with Elise! Sonic isn't shown to be a very touchy-feely person, so hugs are a big deal! I do find it fascinating how '06 in particular seems to have the softest portrayal of Sonic, where his attitude is toned down, since Yoshimura's writing tends to display that side of him more often. I really love her character writing in Unleashed as well.

there's a video I watched by AketamaGames that pertains to this, and this part that basically describes the subtle differences in 2000's Sonic over time really sticks with me:

he's gentle, calm, and warm towards others! in games like '06 and Secret Rings, you could even describe him as gentlemanly towards the female deuteragonists

whether Sonic likes Elise or not is a little vague, but I think that's great since it encourages people to think more about how Sonic feels about her and come up with their own theories. like you said, it's shown subtly! I really prefer that method of storytelling when it comes to Sonic. never peering into his mind creates more intrigue.

and yeah, of course Sonic would vibe with a fellow thrill-seeker who enjoys his way of life!

thank you so much for sharing why you love this ship!

[unoriginal-and-dumb]

How did Trevor get the error thingy in his arm? How did it even appear or was he born with it?

Lore drop time, its a long one so ill put it under the break

If anyone already knew it, its slightly different now, bit more expanded on, inclusion of blair, all that good stuff.

Im also making a new tag, trevlore because its funny and also so i can specifically find whatever the hell i say sometimes

Trevor was not born with it, its more like a reflection of his rapidly deteriorating mental and physical health because of some sort of stupid bad illness

Ok i guess he actually was born with it, but it never showed its face until much much later, like a dormant disease

Anyway, he was fine, maybe a little bit weird as a kid, but once he got sick it was like different, like yea he got physically ill but it also really attacked his mental health (paranoia, hallucinations, all that good stuff)

It eventually led to him basically locking himself in his room for days on end because bruh was tweaking the eff out, then got so convinced something was under his skin (probably because there was) that he eventually decided to help along the ailment that was already essentially. Uh. Eating away at his skin on his right arm.

In other words his arm got itchy, he was like yea no bruh theres totally something there, then he fucking peels his arm like a banana 🍌

Then its the error symbol

Why the error symbol though? And why was be born with it?

Well the universe he resides in is, in a way, kind of like a computer. Trevor existence is normal, he looks normal and acts normal, but is like a corrupt file, in its inner code n stuff something fucked up.

Essentially, trevor isnt supposed to exist, but he does and because of that hes acting like a sort of virus of sorts to the universe

And god ok call me cringe, i feel liek a real hypocrite because normally i get annoyed my multiverse stories unless it was like spiderverse or rick and morty (be quiet) but yea this does kinda fall into a multiverse type of idea

Since trevor is fucking up his universe hes also acting as a wormhole of sorts, SOMETIMES like when he touches something with his error arm or just tweaks out because it gets worse, he can quite literally bring parts of other universes into his own

So sometimes he’s walkin by a computer, and itll either just bug the fuck out or act as like a sort of camera into some undecipherable thing (the disease acts electronically so it is technologically leaning i guess idk it doesnt make sense dont look into it)

Even thought it is like a sort of multiverse thing its not like trevor is gonna single handedly make one universe crash into another, feels excessive and over powerful to me, i think if worst comes to worse he just jumble his universe and when he eventually DIES for one reason or another its just left as a weird glitching mess, not worsening or on the verge of collapse

Anyway, the disease is part of why trevor puts up with blair, dont get me wrong they ARE friends but blair is kinda like. Really annoying and hard to confront on certain things, they have issues listening and following peoples boundaries at times. Trevor was actually planning to have a long talk with blair but then he got real sick and suddenly everything else seemed to matter a lot less. Blair does help him, she isnt diabolical damn, but on trevors end its also a lot of receiving a lot of unwanted things (platonic affection, hes not a very “loving” person, often times preferring to be left alone outside of conversations or specifically set aside times to hang out) he just doesnt care enough about because hes busy being paranoid n shit

Specifically about blair, trevor and blair met in college, at that time trevor was 18 and blair was 19, im not gonna lie i dont have specific ages for them currently but idk both in their 20s and 1 year apart. Anyway, blair (he/she/they) is the more talkative one, they partner up in one of their classes and hang out, enjoying each others company a lot. Blair grew up pretty well off, i wouldnt say RICH RICH but yknow. Nice place. Blair would always be planning things and wanting to do stuff with trevor, trevor was mostly just happy to have a friend that seemed to actually give a shit if he was there or not (haha lonely loser). Blair is a nice person, but they do tend to speak over people, and they also can a bit hard to explain boundaries to. They kinda just apply their own personal everythings to everyone else (they love hugs and wouldnt mind receiving a surprise one, that type of stuff). They grew up on a very different path of life from trevor, so it can obviously get a little bit weird on finer levels. Blair is very idealistic to the point they forget to ground themselves in reality, i.e “omg lets get a cat!” When they can barely afford rent as is

Trevor and blair room together in an apartment near their college, trevor did however drop out because he got sick, kept getting recommended therapy for yelling at nothing in class, and also because of that his tanking grades (kinda sad for him but ohhhhh wellllll)

I dont think blair dropped college, but i dont think they went a full 4 years so maybe she just was like “hey im taking a gap year its a gap year promise” and then just stopped taking classes? Or something?? Idk im coming up with this stuff as im writing

Uh ok fast decision time right now, blairs last name is atkin, Blair Atkin. Its pulled from atkinson which came up when i searched white people last names on google. His middle name will be uhhhhh alex, haha their initials are baa. Anyway this means BlairAtkin is the blair tag now

[tubbytarchia]

Do you also feel as if the reason Scott always survives so much is that, besides being a good pvper, he just stays in the corner (sometimes literally) and doesn’t engage in the same risks as most others? I remember feeling really frustrated about it in Limited Life specifically but idk if that’s just a me thing.

In a way, yes, I do think he stays out of the action more than others. In fact there is this one time in Secret Life when him, Bdubs and Impulse were in a game of tag, and Bdubs was with his horse. Scott stole that horse and told Bdubs that it was unfair for him to have it and he would get it back at the end of the session, Bdubs reluctantly agrees. And then later in that session, this mf rolls up to Bdubs on that same horse, saying "I just wouldn't be able to escape otherwise". That is just a direct contradiction of the "fairness" that he claimed himself to want to provide for the sake of the other players. He has been a massive hypocrite or just unfair on multiple occasions for the sake of self-preservation but he knows how to paint his actions as bearing less weight than they do and make others feel like he's doing a favor and being a friend

But it's not even so much that as it is him generally staying in people's good graces, even when it's borderline manipulative or he antagonizes someone else to achieve the desired effect. Pearl wasn't exactly innocent in DL but it was Scott who ostracized her and stayed in good favor with most people by virtue of painting himself as the sensible one between the two of them when he instigated much more harm. He just intentionally doesn't leave strong enough impressions for anyone to want to kill him and will rather partake in small gestures of kindness; most times anyone's wanted to get him was because of him just being on more lives or time and not because he'd done anything to them (And people like Joel have actually been wronged by him in a very tangible way, justifying their desire to get back at him)

I'm confident that everyone within these games knows how to SURVIVE better than they do. But the point isn't survival, the point is content - conflict, interaction, etc. Scott also knows how to play it safe and stay in relative good favor with people by not offering up too much, but I have to agree that he seems to prioritize that more than anyone else. The most compelling aspect of his character is his self-sacrificial nature, and without any context, him sacrificing himself for others seems like a high and respectable toll, but he knows exactly what he's doing, he knows how much he can give and be fine and in control. When he sacrifices himself, he's prioritizing the benefit that will offer him and not the recipient. He's just very good at the social mindgame of it all, which is what makes things most interesting about his character, but it becomes less fun when he's this focused on survival and always gets away with it, almost never facing any punishment despite being equally as guilty of wrongdoing as any other member of the series

[yannisdesk]

Just saw someone say that making Caitlyn feel all-consuming misery over her actions is "misery p0rn" but her not being held accountable for her actions at the hands of any sort of justice due to how Piltover is structured is realistic.

Okay.

The last part is true. I don't expect Caitlyn to be thrown to whatever the Runeterra version of the ICC is (there is none) by the new council she just reinstated that only has its power back because she surrendered her power. I personally have never argued that. I don't even want Caitlyn to serve time in prison or die in battle. By being held accountable I mean held by the people she's personally hurt, such as Vi. Face some tangible consequences from the people of Zaun, who she gassed and oppressed for nearly an entire year. Idk, something.

Maddie doesn't count. Caitlyn never did anything wrong to Maddie to deserve that specific betrayal; it was made kind of obvious that she'd been under Ambessa's yoke from the beginning. Also, that was not "holding her accountable" - that was a spy doing what a spy does, or a jilted lover getting petty revenge if you want to interpret it that way. For all we know, Caitlyn could've rejected Ambessa's offer to becoming the leader of Piltover, and Maddie would've either been placed as a plant to whoever ended up taking that position, or still sent by Ambessa to somehow undermine whatever plans Caitlyn would've ended up having at that point.

But her feeling all-consuming guilt is unrealistic "misery p0rn"? Frankly, that's a load of bullshit. People who commit atrocities like that should feel bad about doing those things. When you become the head of a military dictatorship, co-sign locking up masses of civilians on trumped up charges, and engage in chemical warfare, the realization of what you've done should shock you to your core. You should feel like shit. Coping with what you've done should be difficult. That's a part of growing as a person and anyone that has ever had to face the fact that they've done something to seriously hurt another person, me included, recognizes this. The argument that she should get to walk away self-righteously patting herself on the back because she freed Jinx and sacrificed her eye is absurd, and not even something Caitlyn as a character would agree with.

Am I personally saying there's no way for Caitlyn to move forward? No, I was fully expecting to her to come out of her dictator era, and to have some sort of well-done redemption arc that would make sense and add depth to her as character. But much like Vi, her character just wasn't given that space because it was a lot of moving from one plot point to the other without being given time to breathe.

This isn't even about disliking or liking Caitlyn as a character, I personally have always been fond of her and even identified with her to an extent; it's really about not agreeing with how her arc was handled and the greater implications of it.

Sidebar: And let's keep this a buck-fifty - y'all only make this argument because you like Caitlyn or identify with her in some way. Other characters simply do not get that same grace. A lot of you who make this argument are the same ones that pop blood vessels over Ambessa to the point where people can't even express interest in Ambessa as a character without you jumping down their throats.

[azri-e-l]

My thoughts on Teen Wolf season 3

Ok now that I look at it I'm consuming Teen Wolf seasons hella fast

Idk if that's good or not...

Anyway spoiler alert 🚨

Ok so I love how all the family relationships progressed u know Stiles and his dad, Scott and his mom and Allison and her dad (especially this relationship) because it was so nice to see all the parents helping them since now they also know about the supernatural and that meant that now they could do things that were a big no before

Next thing the first half I was so frustrated with Kali because girl put on some DAMN SHOES!

Like yeah it was nice seeing different kinds of werewolf fighting styles but for this one why did she have to be bare foot all the time?

Another thing I hated how they killed off Boyd and Erica

I liked them...

Anyway moving on, I kinda knew from the beginning that there was something off with the teacher who turned out to be the one doing all the killings yeah...

Plus the whole thing with the alpha pack it was kinda cool but at same time kinda weird idk but I guess we got the twins out of it?

I liked the relationships, u know the twins and Lydia and Danny it was nice, it was cute

Oh yeah I enjoyed Peter's interactions with others and his attitude altogether I know he is a bad guy but an enjoyable one to watch hehe

Ok and I still don't like Scott bite me if u want on this one but he really isn't that much of a great friend even if he had some moments

Poor Stiles yeah, the whole season he was used, hurt, manipulateted and mentally tortured and he still cared about others and their feelings (I believe he had it worse than Lydia and Jackson)

But it was interesting seeing Stiles be the bad guy since he is the fun character

Oh yeah and I pray for mr Argent because he just lost his whole family or more likely his remaining family, u know his whole world crumbling down even if he says that it's ok (I know that the aunt returned at the end but I don't like her...)

And the death of Allison and one of the twins yeah that wasn't nice I liked them both

Ooh yeah I liked how Derek tried to help and cared for Stiles

I guess this is everything yeah

Thanks for reading!