#if i could make it any colder in my home rn i would

[tinyweevil]

RAAAAAAAAA AAAGHHVCVHHHZLDJZ AAAAAAAAAAA

[chelseachilly]

do you want to build a snowman?

pairing: reader x ben chilwell request: "ok so you and ben have a daughter around 3 or 4 and its her first time seeing snow so they take her outside to build a snowman :)" - anonymous warnings: fluffff, dad!ben word count: 2k

author’s note: thanks for all the requests!! i'm really getting in the flow of writing rn (and inspired by the holidays) so i'm going to do my best to write as many of them as i can! ❄️

-

“Is Daddy gonna be home soon?”

It’s not the first - or the second, or the fifth - time your daughter has asked this question since she woke up this morning. 

Ben left for training shortly before 8, and neither you nor your daughter Sophie were awake yet. You could’ve happily slept a few more hours, but Sophie woke you up not long after to excitedly announce that it had snowed overnight.

In her four years of life, your daughter has never seen a significant amount of snow, at least that she can recall. It snowed quite a bit on her first Christmas, but she was far too little to remember that, and since then there’s been nothing but a few flurries here and there or a light dusting on the rooftops.

She’s quite fascinated by the concept from watching movies and TV shows featuring winter activities and is currently deep in a Frozen phase, which means she’s obsessed with the idea of building a snowman. 

Over the past month as the weather got colder, you and Ben had tried to keep her expectations low as you weren’t sure you would get enough snow to make this dream a reality. You could tell it was killing Ben to disappoint her - he hates denying his little girl anything - and a few nights ago you caught him looking into booking a holiday to Switzerland or Finland or anywhere she would be guaranteed some snow.

Thankfully, today her prayers were answered, and you were fully prepared to bundle up and go outside with her before you even had your coffee, but she insisted on waiting for Ben. It was their plan to build the snowman together, Sophie told you, and she stuck to her decision even when you reminded her he wouldn’t be home for hours.

It‘s been pretty adorable watching her anxiously await her dad’s return all morning, pacing around the house and checking for his car in the driveway often. You can tell how badly she wants to go out and play in the glistening white snow, and the remarkable restraint she’s showing is a testament to how much of a daddy’s girl she is. 

“Not too much longer, sweetheart,” you assure her as you beckon her to come cuddle with you on the couch where you’re doing a bit of work on your laptop. “He texted a while ago and said he’ll be here as soon as he can.”

“Alright,” Sophie sighs. “Can you put on Frozen?”

You’ve watched this movie more times than you can count lately, and once already today, but you remind yourself that you signed up for this when you chose to be a parent as you’re queuing up Disney Plus once again. 

Later, when you’re nearing the end of the film and you’ve given up on doing any more work as long as your daughter is screaming the lyrics to each song, you hear the sound of the front door opening and closing. 

“Daddy!”

The movie is quickly abandoned as Sophie darts toward the foyer to greet Ben. You’re not too far behind her, though by the time you reach them she’s already in her dad’s arms.

“Daddy, it snowed!” Sophie exclaims, her little arms wrapped around Ben’s neck. “We have to build a snowman!”

“I know, darling,” Ben laughs, giving Sophie another squeeze before gently setting her down. “Why don’t you go get your coat on while I say hello to Mummy?”

Sophie nods and eagerly runs toward the closet to fetch her winter coat. As Ben drops his bag and makes his way over to you, you can see how tired he is from training. When he cups your face to give you a kiss, you can tell he’s also freezing. 

“How was training, baby?” you murmur, placing your hands on his to warm them up. 

“Cold,” Ben sighs. “Forgot how brutal it is training in the snow. I’m glad the gaffer let us go home early, though.”

“You and me both,” you smile, leaning in to kiss him again. “Maybe you should warm up a bit before going out to play with Soph?”

“No, she’s been waiting for me all day,” Ben says. “I’ll be fine.”

You know there’s no changing his mind, especially when Sophie comes running back into the room in her adorable little puffer jacket that nearly swallows her whole. You help her zip it up and grab mittens, a scarf and a hat to keep her warm, as well as some for you and Ben. 

Once you’re all ready to face the cold, you head out to the garden together. You and Ben have matching grins on your faces as you watch Sophie excitedly run through the snow for the first time, a core childhood memory being created right before your eyes. 

She gets to work right away on her snowman, rolling the snowball she’s formed as long as she can before it gets too heavy for her and she has to accept Ben’s help. 

You join in on their efforts, occasionally taking a break to take some photos of your daughter and husband that you already know are going to be your new phone background.

After some hard work - certainly for a four year old - the snowman is completed with a carrot nose and hat that you had prepared just for this occasion. 

“He looks great, Sophie!” you exclaim. “What’s his name? Olaf?”

Despite it being a fairly safe guess, Sophie looks at you like you have two heads.

“No, Mummy, Olaf doesn’t have a hat,” she reminds you very matter-of-factly. “His name is Tom.”

“Like Uncle Tom?” Ben chuckles, referring to his best friend and her godfather.

Sophie seems to contemplate this for a moment before shaking her head.

“No, because I want him to be Tom.”

You and Ben look at each other for a moment before bursting out into laughter. You both blame your daughter’s stubbornness on each other, though deep down you know it’s from both of you, but at times like this it’s both hilarious and adorable. 

“Fair enough, sweetie,” you say, bending down to give her a kiss on the forehead. “Now, I think some hot chocolate is in order. Ready to go in?”

“No, we have to make snow angels!”

Of course, this was another activity she had seen in films that she was dying to try for herself. 

“Alright,” you chuckle. “Why don’t we make snow angels while Daddy goes and warms up? He’s been out in the snow all day.”

The pout on Sophie’s face quickly tells you that she is not happy with this plan, and Ben swoops in before you can say anything else.

“I think I have a few snow angels left in me,” he smiles, picking Sophie up and balancing her on his hip. “Babe, can you start the hot chocolate while we finish up here?”

You raise an eyebrow at your husband but accept his proposal nonetheless, placing a quick kiss on both his and Sophie’s cheeks before heading inside. 

As you’re warming up the milk on the stovetop, you look out the window where Ben and Sophie are still playing, her excited giggles loud enough that you can hear her through the windowpane. 

Your heart is threatening to burst from the sweet scene, overflowing with love for your daughter and admiration for your amazing husband. No matter how tired he is from training, if he’s upset about a loss or injured or anything else, he always steps up for Sophie. You’ve known since you met him that he would be a great dad, but ever since you became parents, he’s continued to exceed your expectations.

Just as you’re pouring three steaming mugs of hot chocolate, you hear your family come in through the back door and begin to strip off their winter gear. 

To your delight, Sophie runs straight into the kitchen and hugs you tightly.

“I made five snow angels!” she exclaims as you run your hand up and down her back in an effort to warm her up. “Daddy made some big ones, too.”

“That’s amazing, love,” you smile, kissing her head. “You want some hot chocolate?”

“Yes! Can I put the marshmallows in?”

“Of course,” you say, lifting her up onto the counter and passing her the bag of mini marshmallows.

As much as she’s a daddy’s girl at heart, you also get your fair share of moments when your daughter seems to only want her mother. You know how special her bond is with Ben, and you really can’t blame her for how much she loves spending time with him, but you still cherish the little things that just for the two of you - making hot chocolate with extra marshmallows being one of them. 

You carry the tray of drinks into the living room with Sophie trailing behind, and find Ben already there getting the fireplace going and arranging some pillows and blankets.

“This looks cozy,” you smile, setting the drinks down and sitting on the floor across from him, Sophie following your lead. “Thanks, honey.”

“Thanks for making the hot chocolate, my loves,” Ben responds, glancing over at the tray that holds two regular Christmas mugs and one with the Frozen characters on it. He picks that one up and pretends to take a sip. “I assume this one is mine?”

“No, Daddy, that’s mine!” Sophie squeals, making both you and Ben laugh as he carefully passes it back to her. 

You all sip your drinks in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the warmth of the sweet beverages and the burning fire. 

“So, did you enjoy your first snow, Soph?” Ben asks. “Was it everything you hoped?”

“It was amazing!” Sophie confirms. “Thank you for playing, Daddy.”

“You’re welcome, angel,” Ben says with a soft smile as Sophie climbs into his lap and he kisses her rosy cheeks. 

It’s not long before she drifts off to sleep, tuckered out from playing in the snow and comforted by her dad’s embrace and the sound of you and Ben quietly talking about your days. 

Once she’s fully passed out, Ben carefully shifts her tiny frame over in his arms to make room for you on his other side and beckons you over. With him laying back against the sofa and you now laying against his chest, both of you watching your daughter sleep peacefully, you’re not sure you’ve ever felt more content. 

“That little girl absolutely adores you,” you comment, nuzzling further into Ben’s warmth.

“She must get that from her mum, then,” Ben jokes, making you roll your eyes for a moment before kissing his jaw, then his cheek.

“Mhm,” you nod, smiling as you reach his lips and kiss him slowly. 

When you pull back, Ben gazes lovingly at you for a moment before his eyes return to Sophie, her little hand curling around the material of his hoodie in her sleep.

“Babe?” Ben murmurs, and you nod again. “How would you feel about trying for another one?”

It takes everything in you not to betray yourself with a grin as you think about the tiny Christmas onesie and pregnancy test you boxed up and placed under the tree yesterday while Ben was picking Sophie up from daycare. 

It’s less than a week until Christmas - you can make it that long. 

“Let’s talk about it after the holidays?” you say for now, pressing another kiss to Ben’s lips. 

He nods with a smile, though you can see his mind wandering with thoughts of another little one to play in the snow and curl up by the fire and watching the same movies over and over with. 

It’s been the greatest joy of your life raising Sophie side by side with him, and you absolutely can’t wait to do it all again. 

[2queenofmayhem2]

Intruxx by Glass Animals

Hey, hey! This is just a shitty little beginning to a story I was talking about where it’s Sagau but the characters know you aren’t the creator, but the player. It’s similar, but I’m definitely gonna change some things later on in the story. Hooray…also, this was written and posted on my phone cause I don’t have my computer with me rn, so ignore the typos pls

Hello? 

It’s so cold… Why can’t I open my eyes? 

Please! Please…

You lurched forward, mouth agape while desperately gasping for air. The cold hits you hard, making your already dry throat ache even more. Snow gently wafted down with the wind. This caught you off guard, and grounded you for a second as you stared in slight awe and exasperation. Wherever you were, it clearly wasn’t your home. Again, your heart beat faster, as if it was going to explode. 

Eventually, you dragged yourself up with numb hands and shaking legs. Carefully stepping forward, you wiped the few stray tears from your eyes and trudged forward through the snow towards the barely visible path leading down. YOur eyes trailed across the patches of grass coated in snowflakes. If you turned to your left, there was a path trailed up and disappeared into a cover of trees and a whirlwind of snow. To your left, there was another that did the same. You begin walking aimlessly downward, pausing every now and again to take a deep breath, and calm down. This gave you a chance to look over the cliffside towards a distant city that peeked around the mountain. It just made your head spin more, so much so that you slipped while leaning against a rocky wall. The stone dug deep into the delicate flesh of your palm. You yelped, before cradling it with your uninjured hand. Warm red blood pooled like a cruel waterfall onto the once pristine white snow. You shuddered one long breath when tears began to fall, clinging to your lashes and streaming down your face. You hated this feeling. At the same time, you didn’t know what else to do. You were on a frigid mountain where you were 100% sure you had already gotten frostbite, and everything that could hurt did, especially your head. 

Grumbling incoherent curses under your breath, you stand again. You had soaked your jacket from the way your injured hand clung to the inside of your pocket. You knew it was better to not take it off and risk getting even colder, even if it was to stop the bleeding, so that would have to work for now. The blood tainted the dark fabric a gross brown-ish-red. Suddenly, there was a nauseating stress burrowing into the pit of your stomach the farther you went down. Hopefully, it was just your paranoia, but it could be anything in this situation. 

You took a glance back up after what was at least 10 minutes, and your eyes immediately widen. Fumbling back, you nearly fall again, but catch yourself on a tree. After quickly wiping your eyes, you squint up, then widen your eyes again as if to get all points of view of this thing. 

No way.

Before you, a girl skipped down the mountain without a care in the world. The most notable feature was the bright red dress and fluffy little companion in her hands. You knew this girl all too well, but it didn’t give you any comfort. Rather, the sight of Klee, a game character that shouldn’t exist, gave you the exact opposite feeling. There were many more questions than answers at this point. God, your head was spinning. In a very confusing moment, you slump to the ground, and pass out. 

A small hand prods the figures side, then jumps back with a yelp at the sight of the red blood. “Fascinating…”Another murmured.

[onmyyan]

Hi I just wanted to make a request to ask if you could make a Drabble to ask if you could make a gabe x reader as you when you talked about caspians family you mentioned how gabe is compared to his brother caspian or possibly someone else I would like to know more about him in general and about what would he do with a clay maker s/o who secretly knows about the family business and is an insomniac and also likes to sleep a lot but tries to do the most that they can and won’t fall for the manipulation tactics he uses and just says “ you know if you wanted me to stay home you could’ve just said so?🤨

sorry if your burnt out also have as much fun as you can as a 22 year old !!! You don’t have an obligation to answer this but thank you.

A/N: Ello bby i am soooo happy you asked about Gabe omfg im kicking my feet rn!!! I tried to check all the boxes of the request i apologize if i missed any, Also I'm not burnt out thank you for your sweet words i wanna give u a forehead kith anyway!!!! Heres Gabe! NOT EDITED

T/W: YANDERE, MURDER, GABE IS FUCKIN CRAZY LMAO,CURSING

Gabrielllll Mi Amor omg where do I even begin?!

Standing at a proud 6'4 this mf is big. He's the strongest of his brothers physically, and has always used it to his advantage.

Early on in his life he was being compared to Caspian. They looked so alike it wasn't hard to see why people brought it up the way they did but it still bugged him.

Subconsciously he began to act anyway his brother wasn't. Be it avoiding the kitchen like the plague or gluing himself to the workshop downstairs.

Has a voice like warm butter and can sing stupidly well.

Sings/hums little tunes whenever he's working.

Love languages are acts of service and gift giving, he just wants to take care of you.

Terrified of spiders, he will call you crying to come get it.

Loves tinkering with things, surprisingly delicate hands for such a rough guy.

He laughs with his whole body, the kinda loud boisterous one that made other people start.

Snorts when he finds something especially funny.

He has a hard time reading social cues so he's constantly making dumb jokes, especially when he's not supposed to but he's so funny it's hard to stay mad at him.

Charm up the wazoo, the kinda guy where no matter where he goes, someone's coming up to say hello to him.

He's really good at pattern recognition and it makes him come off a bit psychic at times

Like how he'd clock someone's bad mood the second he seen them, notices details most people wouldn't.

Himbo.

The kinda guy where if you accidentally burn yourself he'll do it too just so you could be in equal amounts of pain, is it dumb as hell? Yeah. Is it also the sweetest thing ever? Absolutely.

Wants the kind of love Mortica and Gomez have, unfiltered raw passion.

Morbid sense of humor.

He's always warm no matter the temperature, comes in mad handy during the colder months and means he wears the smallest amount of clothing when it's hot out which is just a win for everyone.

Scorpio male I repeat Scorpio male. Do with that what you will.

Believes in love at first sight, he's such a big softie.

Had his tongue pierced in his friend's dingy kitchen when he was 18, a secret to this day his mom doesn't know about it.

His canines are a little longer than most and he absolutely had a vampire phase.

Likes to bite. A lot. It's a love language.

He confides in Caspian for everything, expect his envy of him. For that he talks to Ricky.

He can knock someone out with his right hook and has many times before.

He grew up working for his dad's approval and that meant getting his hands dirty.

At first his was a bit weary of using his strength to hurt people but that all changed when his Father put things in perspective for him.

"Everything we do- it's to keep food on our table, to keep us safe- your mother safe." And it all clicked.

Violence for the sake of violence wasn't okay. But violence for the sake of love? That shit was poetic.

He's essentially the family's guard dog. If anyone fucked with them? You told Gabe and suddenly the problem was gone.

He loves the color red, specifically the shade of red that came outta' the first guy his Father sent him after.

He was just supposed to rough him up a little but had too much fun caving in the dude's face.

Thinks killing in the name of love is the most caring thing you can do for someone.

Lil bit of a masochist streak. Likes when he gets to fight someone who can actually keep up with him cuz that little jolt he gets down his spine when he gets hit is addicting.

Animals love him, like you got a cat that hates everyone? Loves him.

Likes preening himself, takes about an hour in the shower everyday, since he dyes his hair so often he takes extra special care of it.

He has a beauty routine and he never skips it, definitely sets up self care spa days with the two of you once you're together.

Really good at videogames, like don't let him goad you into any sort of bet around gaming bec you will lose.

He's the second oldest but carries a lot of the weight of the older brother title since Cas wants nothing to do with the family business

Loves taking things apart to see how they work then putting them back together. He's done this to his PC a lot.

Really such a sweetheart but he has a dark side that feels a lot like a caged animal.

He's not afraid to show you this side because he's proud of it, it's kept him and his kin safe time and time again, why wouldn't he want you to know he'd do anything for you?

Does not like large public spaces, he needs to have a clear way in and out of any area.

Has mad anxiety, takes meds for it.

Works out every day, his favorite way to do so is jogging, he loves being able to just turn off his brain and go.

He meets you on one of those jogs!! Runs right past your art studio but stops when he sees you about to drop this heavy ass box you're attempting to move in a truck.

"Woah- I got you don't worry." He said in an attempt not to scare you as he was some random man running at you from across the street.

You'd peak your head out with the sweetest smile he's ever seen. The honest gratefulness in your eyes warmed him to his core.

"Oh thank you!- I appreciate it." Sure the words were simple but paired with that sheepish little laugh brought heat to his cheeks, he had the sudden to urge to fix his hair, make sure he looked presentable because holy shit were you gorgeous.

You're in a dust covered pair of overalls, your hair is windswept, and you still knocked the breath from his lungs.

"Whatcha' got in there?-god sorry if it's personal you don't need to, I'm sorry." He was very obviously flustered but he was so cute it only added to the charm.

"It's some clay my friend asked for- I had some extra from this project I'm working on- anyway thank you so much.." She trailed off waiting for his name. "Gabriel, you can call me Gabe." His voice was deep and warm like molasses on a hot cookie.

He asks for your number then and there and your fate is sealed.

He runs home faster than he's ever run before, like straight to his apartment, straight to the laptop, doesn't even close the front door kinda rushing.

You only gave him your first name but since he knew you most likely worked at the pottery studio he met you outside of he could find what he needed easily.

He wasn't the most technology savvy man out there but he managed to find a few of your socials and made a quick call to a friend, he has a lot of connections and it was nothing to get the info he needed.

He's a straight shooter and texts you asking for a coffee date that night.

You accept, and despite not usually entertaining men you'd only met that day, he had this captivating energy that had you accepting before you could talk yourself out of it.

The date would be dummy cute, he shows up with flowers and what was supposed to be a quick cup of coffee turns into an all day adventure where you just talked and talked about everything and nothing.

He has you laughing the entire date, blushing from the sheer intensity of his gaze. He was blunt in the way where he said whatever was on his mind.

"I'm sorry- Ima be real I didn't catch a word you just said- the sun hit your face and I had to take a second. Holy shit- you're stunning." His genuine disbelief along with the way he shyly inched his hand to interlock your fingers had your heart skipping a few beats.

He's so into love and the idea of being entirely wrapped up in it.

Before you know it it's getting dark and if he's not walking you to your door he's politely demanding you let him know when you're safe and sound.

The kinda person who makes sure your seatbelt is on or if you're walking on the sidewalk he'll always take the street side just in case.

Would jump out of his coat if you gave the slightest inclination you were cold.

He once balled up his hoodie and threw it at you from across the room like a basketball, like he jumped and dunked.

If you wear fake lashes first time you take em off he the type of dude to be terrified thinking you're just yanking out your real one's.

If he has stuff in his hands and you jump at him he will launch the items if it means catching you better.

Definitely the type to randomly come up to you and silently demand affection.

He wants you to go with him to the gym just to see him be hot. N like maybe give him a reward kiss every time he completes a set.

Surprisingly graceful for such a big dude.

He's an all or nothing type, makes that abundantly clear on the phone one night as he'd gotten in the habit of falling asleep to your voice.

"I want you. Entirely. And I've never been good at denying myself." He'd sound so sure, so certain in his words it made your brain go a bit fuzzy.

Possessive in a hot way not an icky controlling way.

Like if someone hits on you in front of him he has to physically distract himself so he doesn't commit a crime in broad daylight.

Instead whenever his jealously is triggered he becomes a koala, latches himself to your back like a demon, his massive form hovering behind you whenever you went.

"My girl can dress however she wants. I can fight."

Does not tolerate any disrespect towards you or your relationship.

Some girl tried to grind on him at the club and he threw his drink at her.

Petty as HELL when mad, he has a shit list and you do not want to be on it.

Protective as hell, if you indulge his little tendencies (putting sunblock on you if it's warm out, always bringing extra snacks incase you get hungry when you're working) he will start talking about marriage lmao

Speaking of he loves to linger around your studio whenever he can, be warned he will distract you by being adorable so working will be hard but it's totally worth it.

Nicknames for you are : Baby girl, Ma', WIFEY,(almost always followed by a kiss) Darlin', Mi Amor.

He's struggled with insomnia before so he knows a thing or two.

Once you start sleeping over more he notices your nocturnal habits and quickly adjusts.

If you ever get up because you just can't sleep and need to get some energy out he always wakes up.

He can't sleep without you so if you're gone longer than a minute sirens go off in his mind and he's wide awake.

If you wanna watch TV until you can finally rest you know he's right there with you, likes to have you resting in his lap so he can wrap himself around you entirely.

If you simply want to exist in silence he can do that to, so long as he's with you he knows peace.

It wouldn't take long for you to realize his family's secret.

Gabe can keep a secret from anyone.

Except you.

Sometimes his Father would call for him at odd hours of the night, and he'd have to shoot out of bed with little explanation.

You'd wake up to the lightest pressure on your forehead as he kissed you goodbye.

"Shit- go back to sleep Baby, somethin' going down at the shop, they need me." He'd say this cradling your still half asleep face, gently thumbing over your cheeks before stealing another kiss.

He'd come back hours later, the sky still dark and he always showered and put his clothes in the washer before he came to lay back down.

After a while these constant exits would have you a little worried, while yes he was the single most loyal man you'd met and the idea of him cheating seemed laughable, especially considering how seriously he took you, you knew he was hiding something.

Eventually our boy slips up and leaves some blood on his shirt, it was splattered on like paint and yeah at first you were a bit terrified at the concept of your boyfriend being violent then you really started to think about it.

The way he talked about people he didn't like, that look in his eye whenever you told him someone had upset you, how he seemed almost eager to fight at any time.

It made sense.

Then there's the way he talks about his family's shop.

"It's kinda' fun working down there- yeah it can get messy but that's my favorite part."

"I mean Jimmy knew what kinda' businessman pops is- no wonder he die- retired. No wonder he uh, retired. 👀"

It's embarrassing how slick he thinks he is.

It all comes to its boiling point when one day you two are out and bump into a smaller, who at the sight of your loving boyfriend, goes pale as a sheet, nearly dropping the bags in his arm.

"H-Hey Gabe! Boy it's been a minute huh? Listen tell your pops I ain't ducking him or nothing I swear!-" The man said practically vibrating in place, sweat pooling down his flustered face. He was petrified.

Gabe cut him off with a look, his eyes glancing between you and the vermin across him.

"It's Gabriel. Only my friends get to call me Gabe. Do you think we're friends Joey?" You'd never heard this tone from your boyfriend before, it was cold and dry, as if was an entirely different person speaking.

His hold on your waist would tighten when the trembling man looked to you.

"Aye don't look at her look at me, I'm the one talking to you right?." He sneered down, he didn't move and still had the stranger flinching. "Your mama never taught you manners or somethin'?"

"My apologies- really Gabriel, I didn't mean nothin' by it." And with that he'd practically run away, checking over his shoulder every few seconds as if he though Gabe would be following.

"Forgive me, Amor. Some people-" he sucked his teeth before shaking off his nasty look. His fingers began dancing against your side.

"He owe your dad some money?" You'd ask figuring the interaction far too intense to be about a late car job or something.

Gabe would respond honestly before thinking, "Yeah, little bastard has been dodging me all week now he wants to come up to us- nevermind that, let's go were gonna miss the movie!" His flustered response would break all tension, but you'd gotten all the confirmation you needed.

All in all this big bad bastard just needs someone to hold his leash and accept his particular brand of love.

[1luvcttng]

vent post TW; ABUSE(?), SH AND ED MENTIONS

block dont report or wtv (dont mind my grammer and typing guys!!) so tdy my step dad came home like rlly late and my mom didnt make dinner and bro was expecting dinner so like any other maniac with anger issues instead of going in the kitchen and making something this mf starts breaking shit, hits me(for like no reason), breaks my brothers ipad, breaks my Tv, and then expects to still get dinner bro. Like idk but i was gonna call the cops but then there would be more drama and stuff. annyywayys its 2am and im debating whether to relapse cutting again since its getting colder out and it'll be less noticeable but imma prob relapse b4 school bc i am not ready to go to hs at all bro (i start sep 5th). Im fr gonna js gonna have no friends in hs since im going to a diff school n the only person ik who is going to the same school is my ex n idk how i feel abt actually being friends with them.. I still have the blades from last year in my old school bag so i might cut tn. i dont think imma eat tmrw either, i js dont feel lik i deserve to eat rn. i feel like imma throw up tdys food... anywayy lmk if i shouldve called the police or if this is abuse (Im sorry if i triggered u!! i did put warnings!!) oh and gemme and ed or sh tips to hide it from my family!!>_< PLSS SMB BE MY MOOT I PROMISE IM SUPER COOL N STUFF (dni if ynger than 13 or a p3d0) btw im on like 3 monsters idk if u could tell ^_^

[olli-online]

6, 9, 13, 22, 24, 27, 34, 48, 65, 69, 78, 86, 96, 100 (sorry for sending so many jsksbvs)

NOOO DONT SAY SORRY THIS IS PERFECT EHE

6. furthest you've ever traveled from home?

turkey!! i miss it i miss my turkish friends real bad. been well over a decade

9. favourite flavour of juice?

hmm it changes but right now i could drink a gallon of apple juice

22. what "bad" smell do you actually like?

is a bonfire one? i love the smell of fire

24. what type of tree is closest to you rn?

cherry tree :3

27. do you like looking at the shapes in clouds?

i do :) i took a pic of a cloud that had the shape of a bird a couple weeks back but i'm too lazy to find it rn

34. mountains, forest, or ocean?

pitting nature's beautiful creations against each other...each have such distinct things i love. mountains make you feel small and appreciative for the little things, sitting at the top of a mountain even a relatively small one brings a feeling that can be matched by nothing else, the air is colder and the wind is stronger i just want to let it hold me. forests can be so quiet but are so lively, so many creatures inhabit one space and coexist and it's so beautiful to me. trail cams the best invention for letting us have a small glimpse into that world that hides itself from us, animals travelling with their young or seeing the young curiosity about the camera and how it mirrors our own existence. i get lost in the small things that connect humans with every animal its 3am i don't need to cry about that rn. and the ocean...it terrifies me but that's also an aspect of it that i love, i love how little i know and i love how little we know. i love hearing about a species being discovered or confirmed to not be extinct, so much being untouched and destroyed by us hopefully it will outlive us entirely and stay as it was meant to. it's a whole different world in there and its unlike anything else we can ever see on land.

48. do you do any arts/crafts by hand?

not currently but i've always enjoyed sketching and woodworking. i deserve a little woodworking set up for all my fun needs

65. what's your most recent special interest or hyperfixation media?

dunmeshi 😞 i woke up thinking about it

69. if you could choose one of your life's problems to solve with the push of a button, what would you fix right now?

so many of my biggest issues could be resolved if i just stopped fearing everything. fear controls so much of me i need it gone

78. what bad habit do you wish you could enjoy without it being bad for you?

bad posture 😭 i cannot stop slouching or sitting in terrible ways man

86. what little thing from your culture/region/country do you love?

ughhhhhhhhhh straining to think of something. i enjoy the river the runs through the my town

96. do you like carnival rides?

I DO!!!!! only one i don't like is the one that goes up and then drops you like the one in zombieland pfhdjfhf i remember watching my sister go on this really big one and the entire thing was leaning and it freaked me tf out for life

100. what's on your anti-bucket list?

genuinely cannot think of anything. i wanna do everything i can it would feel foolish to put something entirely off limits

13

[insanitybl00m]

prepare to have an absolute overload of info about Bloom. I tend to stay kinda in the shadows and lurk but fuck it I’m gonna share som things about me :3

who is/are your comfort character(s)? Lullah, Chayanne, Missa and Phil

lighter or matches? Both. Depends on the situations. Am I being dramatic? Am I trying to take a cool ass photo?

do you leave the window open at night? Fuck no. It’s hot as hell and so so so humid.

which cryptyd being do you believe in? Uh none but I would fucking love to research more of them :3

what color are your eyes? Brown. I always draw my sona with blue eyes though because I find them so pretty.

why did you do that? Bro you are going to have to be more specific I do a lot of things.

hair-ties or scrunchies? Hair ties, but my hair is short soooo I don’t use them unless I need a haircut lmao

how many water bottles are in your room right now? Uhh two? Three? Idk I’m not home rn but on average two

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee? Depends, my favorite coffee drink is more chocolate than coffee and I like it cold. If I get an actual coffee coffee though I typically get a hot coffee

would you slaughter the rich? Fuck yeah. Where are we meeting?

favorite extracurricular activity? Sleeping. (Writing, reading or drawing, depends on my mood)

what kind of day is it? DUDE IVE HAD A HELL OF A DAY /POS. I COULD MAKE A WHOLE SEPARATE POST ABOUT IT

when was the last time you ate? Uhh 3 and a half hours ago???

do you love the smell of earth after it rains? I have a shit sense of smell but I love the energy. When the ground is squishy but she sky is bright :3

are you a parent? (all answers qualify) To my characters yes :3

can you drive? Technically yes.

are you farsighted or nearsighted? Nope!

what hair products do you use? Uh this one curl styling product and then normal shampoo and conditioner

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails? FUCK YEAH!! I HAVE A WHOLE BOX OF NAIL POLISH

do you say soda or pop? Soda but fun fact I hate soda. I hate any carbonated drinks so yeah no soda for me.

something you’ve kept since childhood? This one stuffed bear I’ve had since I was an infant

what type of person are you? No fucking clue. I’d say annoying, my friends would say and I quote “gay sopping wet cat. cool, silly, kind, clingy, really comfy to be around, super chill.”

how do you feel about chilly weather? I love wearing a nice jacket and pants. I wish it was colder where I live.

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing? Star gazing but then getting distracted by rambling about our thoughts

perfume/body spray or lotion? Body spray but I own none that I like so I just use lotion

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times? God. Every single time I fuck up a friendship I always replay what I could have done to fix it. Even if it wasn’t my fault.

about how many hours of sleep did you get? Uhhh…5

do you wear a mask? I used to a lot when I hated the way my face looked. I’ve grown more comfortable with it though so now I only wear them if I need too :3

how do you like your shower water? Hot. If I am not burning myself in the shower it is not hot enough. (According to science this means I am touch deprived— huh funny how that works)

is there dishes in your room? Uh if you count my empty water bottles then yes

what type of music keeps you grounded? Indie probably. Cavetown and Muffin by BBH actually probably the most

do you have a favorite towel? Not really

the last adventure you’ve been on? IM CURRENTLY TRAVELING IN EUROPE FOR THE FIRST TIME HOLY SHIT EVERYTHING IS SO DIFFERENT HERE

is there a song you know every word to by heart? Hamilton. All of act one. 90% of my playlist has songs I’ve memorized but I’ll just go with that one

what’s your timezone? This was the one I was hesitant to answer but I’m not exactly doxxing myself lmao sooo EST

how many times have you changed your url? Once. I had no followers on my other url though

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years? Uh no. The longest friend I’ve had is a 3 (nearly 4) year friendship with my bestie (atlas :3

I can’t do it in a big numbered list because of character limit so it’s in another block list but it’s the same order.

a soap bar that smells good? Anything with lavender :3

do you use lip balm? No but I should

did you have any snacks today? Yep! I had a cinnamon roll

how do you take your coffee? With a shit ton sugar

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site? YouTube and Files (I download ao3 fics to my files app so I can read when I don’t have wifi)

what’s your take on spicy foods? If only I could handle them ;m;

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it? Can I kill a politician? Or my middle school bully?? Either way one of those two

can you remember what happened yesterday? I was on a plane and I slept. So kinda?

favorite holiday film? I don’t really have one I just like watching whatever my family likes :3

what was the last message you sent? I’m calling out atlas here. Atlas said that Langa (from sk8) “looks like the most stereotypical lesbian from Canada” and I responded “he issss”

when did you first try an alcohol beverage? Uh never and I don’t plan to in the future. Alcohol doesn’t mix well with my meds and people with adhd have a higher rate of addiction so I’m gonna avoid that

can you skip rocks? Maybe? I haven’t tried in a long time.

can i tag you in random stuff? YES PLEASE

TAGGING: @atlasmothsilove (aka Bestie I frequently mention) @31nightshade @universallytravelerpirate @annimator

here’s weirder asks

who is/are your comfort character(s)?

lighter or matches?

do you leave the window open at night?

which cryptyd being do you believe in?

what color are your eyes?

why did you do that?

hair-ties or scrunchies?

how many water bottles are in your room right now?

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee?

would you slaughter the rich?

favorite extracurricular activity?

what kind of day is it?

when was the last time you ate?

do you love the smell of earth after it rains?

are you a parent? (all answers qualify)

can you drive?

are you farsighted or nearsighted?

what hair products do you use?

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

do you say soda or pop?

something you’ve kept since childhood?

what type of person are you?

how do you feel about chilly weather?

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?

perfume/body spray or lotion?

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

about how many hours of sleep did you get?

do you wear a mask?

how do you like your shower water?

is there dishes in your room?

what type of music keeps you grounded?

do you have a favorite towel?

the last adventure you’ve been on?

is there a song you know every word to by heart?

what’s your timezone?

how many times have you changed your url?

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years?

a soap bar that smells good?

do you use lip balm?

did you have any snacks today?

how do you take your coffee?

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site?

what’s your take on spicy foods?

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it?

can you remember what happened yesterday?

favorite holiday film?

what was the last message you sent?

when did you first try an alcohol beverage?

can you skip rocks?

can i tag you in random stuff?

[mossmx]

I need to express my J O Y because people in my home are not quite getting it, but a couple days ago I started a new pencil (already a GREAT feeeling, bc once I reach the end of a pencil and carve out the last bit of lead I get to use the mechanical lead holder which is a treat, plus knowing I actually drew and wrote so much to finish a whole pencil!!!) anyway – I started this A M A Z I N G pencil, for me it is like Gabbani: if I behold this pencil it is an immediate serotonin boost

First of all it's a gift, so I got all the good memories <3

THEN it's MADE OF RECYCLED PAPER??? You would not believe how smooth and nice the barrel feels?? It's so pleasing to touch and in the sharpener???? OMG takes a sharpen so good, it feels just right between grip and smoothnes, and I don't get any splinters near the tip, that part stays super smooth because again: it's not wood?? amazing material!

ALSO!!! IT HAS A RAINBOW!!! LOOK AT THIS (can't take pics of my own rn bc it's dark)

I have the rainbow set and started with the orange one but THE RAINBOW IS IN THE BARREL!!!! YOU GET RAINBOW NO MATTER IF YOU SHARPEN!!! I had never seen such a thing, it's amazing and perfect and it's paper???? SORCERY!!!!

and the little metal part at the butt and the eraser are in tone with the colour of each pencil!!!

AND! EACH PENCIL HAS A FOILED NICE MESSAGE which you also feel when you pass the finger on it!!! the one I am using rn has two lil clouds!!!!!!!

And the material is kinda colder than a wooden pencil, but not cold???? And has a good weight feeling??? IT JUST FEELS GOOD TO HOLD AND DRAW <3 <3 <3 <3

eyes feeling: 11/10 touch feeling 11/10 and even if it's just an HB the lead feels really good? Like, legit pleasurable to do lines!!! I don't know how to express, but it's a good feeling and relation to pressure-trait.

So idk, I just asdfghjkl about this pencil that makes me feel like it's Gabbani in pencil form, but it' pure J O Y, but people look and see like... a pencil and I AM LIKE YOU ARE NOT SEEING AND FEELING WHAT I AM SEEING AND FEELING

I am not good with words so no poetry or fancy stuff, but I am so !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this pencil !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I think the tumblr crowd might appreciate the romanticization of little things XD even if for me it is definitely not small, it is pencil sized to be fair XD

If there was like a Pacific Rim drift system I'd use it with someone here just to make them get the amount of happines this pencil is giving me, because I genuinely feel it and I wish other people could too!!!!

[forever-rogue]

Hi darling. I would like to request Frankie being overprotective when reader is sick. I have headache rn and I would like to see how our cutie boy can handle it. Thank you 🤩

I love the idea of an overprotective Frankie 🥺 He would be such a good caregiver.

»»————-　♡　————-««

You set the warm kettle back down as you finished pouring the steaming water into your mug. Spying your favorite tea in the cabinet, you grabbed and opened it fishing out one of the last teabags. You'd have to get more when you went to the store next time. You loathed running out of it, especially now that colder months were starting.

"What are you doing?" Frankie caught you completely off guard as he came back into the kitchen, canvas totes in each hand, filled with fresh groceries. You had dropped the tea in surprise but offered him a sheepish look as he came over and set the bags on the counter, "Honey Bee, you should be in bed."

"I know," you managed to croak out, your throat still dry and scratchy. You'd come down with a harsh cold, which had caused you to have stay home from work and rest. Frankie, the ever doting boyfriend, had taken on the role of caregiver rather well, and had been waiting on you hand and foot, trying to help you to feel better. You hated depending on someone else for everything, but this cold had really knocked you down and out, "I didn't know when you'd be back and really wanted some tea. I can do some things myself."

"I know," he agreed, taking the bag and dipping into the mug for you, adding just a bit of honey like he knew you enjoyed. His hand found your cheek as he stroked your skin delicately before placing a kiss to your forehead, "but its okay to let me help you out. You always do it for me. But come, let's get you back to bed."

"Are you sure?" you asked quietly, "I can help put away groceries and stuff. At least let me help that much..."

"Absolutely not, out of the question," he insisted fervently, wrapping an arm your waist and holding your tea in the other as he led you back to bed. You didn't even bother to argue with him, knowing there was no point.

Setting down your tea on the bedside table, next to a picture of the two of you that you loved, he pulled back the covers and ushered you under them. It was like the universe was on his side because as soon as your head hit the pillows, you were heavy with sleep again. Sniffling a yawn, you offered your love a soft smile, "thank you, Frankie. You're the best and I love you more than words could describe."

"I love you too," he promised softly, "now just rest. But if you need anything, call me. I'm going to and make some soup, okay? After that I'll draw you a bath, if you would like."

"I don't deserve you," it was a wistful sigh as you snuggled into the blankets and he offered you a gentle kiss on the forehead.

"Of course you do," he promised gently, "you deserve the world. Now rest, and if you need anything-"

"I'll call for you," you confirmed with a sleepy grin. He nodded before leaving the room closing the door ever so slightly.

He'd gone to the grocery store early that morning in order to get everything for homemade chicken noodle soup. It was his Abuela's recipe and he swore by it, sure if he had helped him through many colds in the past.

Frankie hated seeing you sick, knowing how independent you were and much you despised relying on the help of others. But he wasn't about to let you handle things on your own either. He had a feeling you'd be okay and feeling much better after the soup anyways, and surely you'd he right as rain in a few days.

»»————-　♡　————-««

When stirred from slumber again, the sun was setting and casting the room in a soft, pinkish orange glow. You stretched and yawned and almost as if on queue, Frankie popped his head into the room.

"Hi baby," he said softly as he came over to you, his hand going to your forehead to set check for any signs of fever, "how are you feeling?"

"Better, I think," you admitted, the tired heaviness of your aching body feeling ever so slightly relieved, "I must have been out for hours."

"You were," he confirmed, "but you need to listen to your body as well and right now your body needs the rest."

"Apparently so," you agreed as you pushed back the blankets, "is that your Abuela's soup I smell?"

"Indeed it is," he grinned at you, "it can work miracles after all. It just needs to finish simmering for a while and it will he ready soon. I made some bread to go with it too."

"I don't know what I'd do without you, Francisco. Thank you for taking such good care of me," you beamed as you ran a hand through his dark locks.

"Like I said, you do the same for me," he said gently, "and I love you. Now, what do you say about a bath?"

"Are you saying I stink?!" you joked as he leaned in and pretended to smell you. He jerked back and scrunched up his nose as you glared at him.

"Very stinky, baby," he almost giggled with laughter, "definitely time for a bathroom. You smell like honey and vaporub."

"Jerk," you teased as you slid your legs out of the bed in order to head to the bathroom. But Frankie was quicker and easily scooped you up into his arms and carried you to the ensuite bathroom, "ahh, what a prince my love is."

"Nah," he teased, "don't get used to it."

But you already were. Because Frankie was like this all the time, treating you like you were the only thing that mattered, because in a lot of ways to him, you were. But you loved and adored him with just as much reverent devotion.

Frankie gently set you back down before turning on the water, fiddling with the taps for a moment to get the temperature just before dropping in some of your favorite bubble bath. Stripping off your pajamas, you quickly stepped into the water, sinking down and letting the rising water start to envelope you. A small groan of pleasure left your lips as Frankie sat down the floor next to you, resting his arms atop the edge and watching you closely.

"What?" you asked as you grabbed a few bubbles and placed them on the tip of his nose, "never seen a pathetic sickling take a bath before?"

"Shush," he said as you blew some bubbles right back at you, "you are always beautiful, no matter what you look like or how you feel."

"Mhmm," you replied as you leaned back and closed your eyes, "whatever you say, mi amor."

"Exactly," he insisted, "do you want me to wash your hair?"

Your eyes opened as a little grin crossed your features. There were few things you loved more than the feeling of getting your hair washed, especially by Frankie. He often took it upon himself when the two of you showed together.

"Really?" you asked as he nodded, "I would love nothing more. My body is still tired and sore, and if I'm being quite honest, it's never as good as when you do it."

"Ahh, I've spoiled you too much already."

"Indeed, you truly have," you agreed.

"I'm joking-"

"I'm not," you promised, taking his face in your hands and staring into those soft, deep chocolate eyes, "I mean it, Francisco. I love you more than anything. You make me so happy."

"You do too," he promised, taking your hand and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles, "now come, let me help you wash up and then we'll have dinner."

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Okay," you said, swallowing a hearty bite of bread and soup, "it's official. Your Abuela is a miracle worker and whatever secret ingredients she puts in the soup are magic."

"I know," he grinned at you, as he took your bowl and laddled some more soup into it, "one day you might even learn the secret ingredients. But she has to give permission first."

"Oh?" you quirked an eyebrow at him as you eagerly took the second helping, "and how does one go about getting permission?"

"Gotta be part of the family-"

"I am part of the family," you insisted, knowing full well it was true. His family, including his Abuela, adored you and always considered you to be one of them.

"I know," he agreed, a flush of pink rising in his cheeks, "but she means family family. Like we gotta get married."

"Ohh," your eyes widened as you stared at your soup, "maybe...maybe one day."

"Obviously," his response was sure, but nonchalant that your head snapped in his direction as he looked back at you with a simple shrug. You'd talked about marriage before, more or less in passing, but you'd never given it that much thought before. You figured if it was meant to happen, it would happen eventually, "what?"

"You want to get married?" you asked shyly as he gave you a surprised look.

"Of course," he beamed, "I'm going to marry the hell out of you. Don't you worry, Honey Bee, its going to happen. When you least expect it, but it will happen."

Frankie was just was just waiting for the opportune moment to pop the question. He'd had the ring for months, carefully hidden away as he tried to plan the perfect moment. Hell, he was half tempted to grab it and do it now. Despite still being sick and tired and run down, you looked as beautiful as ever. The soft expression on your face was enough to make his heart melt.

"Well..." you trailed off, staring at your soup and barely able to contain your smile, "I...I look forward to it. Just, you know, so I can get your Abuela's recipes."

Frankie snorted with laughter as he shook his head and reached over to wipe a crumb from the corner of your mouth.

"You must be feeling better if you're giving me this much sass," he stated as you nodded in agreement.

"Its the soup..." you said as you brought the bowl to your lips and downed the rest of it, "and the amazing care from my Frankie. Thank you for everything."

"You don't have to thank me," he promised, getting up to clear away the dishes, "now, what do you say to a movie? If you're up for it? We'll get under the covers, you can rest, and I'll even let you pick the movie."

"Deal," you eagerly agreed, "I make no promises to stay awake but I will try."

"Perfect," he busied himself with the kettle on the stove, "now get back into bed, turn on Netflix, and I'll be there in a few minutes with tea."

"And honey?"

"Only the finest for my Honey Bee," he promised, waving the bottle at you.

"I love you, Frankie," you said softly, "truly."

"And I love you," he shot you a quick wink, "now get into bed and I'll be right there."

[ladystoneboobs]

look, i really don't want to keep arguing with you, you're reasonable enough, no hard feelings. i'll just reiterate that i have nothing against lady smallwood either and i am not starting these comparisons just to put her down. this started the other way around with people using lady smallwood to criticize catelyn. there was a post with tags that said arya would prob be happier wearing dresses if catelyn was more like lady smallwood or some words to that effect. i can't find the op rn, but i'm sure you must have seen it. also, i had a reply on my original post arguing yes, she was better than catelyn, surely arya's own mother never once said a kind word to her. i blocked that poster so idk if you can see that, but please take my word for it that multiple people think that way.

i never said arya hated dresses for no reason or had some prejudice against all girly garb and activities just for being seen as girlish. i'm not one of those who confuse feminism with upholding standards of feminitity, i should think my point is the opposite of that. i think saying arya could be happier in dresses in better circumstances, that she could be more feminine like sansa, does carry the implication that those are important traits, that her not doing so must be defended by focusing on negative outside forces. yeah, septa mordane's bullying teaching probably did make arya's work worse not unlike alliser thorne not helping his trainees, but i'd say that's missing the point bc she does not need to make beautiful needlepoint the way the nw recruits need to be able to defend themselves. arya doesn't like needlepoint and prob wouldn't enjoy it under any teacher, just as dresses would still hinder her play and fighting, and be more uncomfortable and maybe sometimes colder, no matter what her mother did or said.

yes, i admit i did forget about her thoughts of lady smallwood in a later chapter. yeah, she valued the lady's kindness, but idk if that says anything about her generally be more willing to wear restrictive lady's clothes in a prolonged future. i'm guessing that line may have had something to do with the notion that arya would be happier wearing dresses for lady smallwood, but i'm agreeing with you that she cannot be compared to arya's actual mother, which started with other people doing just that. arya is comparing another stranger unrelated to her with lady smallwood. we can't know how it would have gone if she'd lived at acorn hall permanently and lady ravella tried to put her in a nice dress all the time every day. ofc there's not enough info to compare a one-chap-char with the woman who actually mothered arya for years, but that has not stopped others from doing do. i only compared her actions wrt baths and dresses to show that 2 baths and 2 dresses in one day cannot be counted as less than what catelyn would have done when arya was "oft" running around looking like a stableboy back home at wf, and that arya was not happily and meekly complying with all the cleaning and fancy dressing at acorn hall either.

yeah, no doubt all the scoldings over the years over her appearence help account for arya's anxiety concerning her mother, i may have misunderstood you there. just saying arya being "forced" into a tub doesn't connote shame made me feel like you meant it could have with different strangers. i'd say arya generally isn't worried about what other people think of her except for her family whose opinion matters deeply to her. (i'd also say that's another way she takes after her mother more than sansa does.) the only other thing i can say is that just as a child is more likely to act out against their own parent than someone else's, you're also more likely to get backhanded compliments and lectures from your own mother than from a different mother who does not feel responsible for eveything you do. i know that was part of my experience too. weirdly, my friends' mothers did not seem as concerned with how messy my hair was or what stains were on my clothes.

i'm done now. let's please just leave it at that.

@buttercuparry #in my experience I don't think there are many people who would say Smallwood is comparable to Catelyn as Arya's mother figure#in fact Arya herself once says that she doesn't want anyone but her mom#mostly when people do bring up smallwood it is because of the kindness that Arya experiences after harrenhal#yes there's also a sentiment of whether Catelyn treating Arya a bit more gently would have#solved some of their misunderstandings and lady Smallwood is brought up as an example in those times but I don't think that is to say#that Smallwood should replace catelyn! that's never going to happen...#I also think there's a difference between Smallwood and Catelyn in the way grrm writes#the forced to bath and insistence into girl things carry annoyance but not shame

yeah, ik people aren't saying lady smallwood should end up as arya's mother, much less that arya would want her to. i am responding to the idea that she is better by being kinder to arya than her own mother ever was. ofc arya feels no shame with her, a complete stranger! why should she care what lady smallwood thinks of her? it's like the end of arya i agot with her saying it was worse to find both septa mordane and her mother in her room after skipping out on needlework. does anyone reallly think cat was even harsher than mordane? no? then the difference is her mother's judgment is what truly matters to her. ik in my own experience the thoughts of relatives whose opinion i care about, however they express themselves, affect me much more than even blunter judgment from those whose opinion of me idc about. arya wanted her mother's approval bc that was her own parent, her only mother, while she disliked mordane and would have given up on her approval as an impossible task years before. lady smallwood was certainly a lot kinder than the septa, but arya had even less reason to care about her approval.

yeah, i do think cat should have taken more care with her words, as i pointed out with "could be pretty" quote, but do y'all really think the only reason arya doesn't like gowns is bc she wasn't asked nicely enough to wear them? that sounds pretty close to the claim that she could be great at needlework with a better teacher. why can't we just say she's not gifted at needlepoint and doesn't enjoy it and shouldn't have to? why must we care about arya's potential needleskill when she can do basic sewing and has many other skills unique to her? arya's "wilfulness" and gender non-conformity are key, intrinsic parts of her, idt that was born all bc catelyn started out only being gentle with sansa's hair and dress while always harshly ordering arya about concerning the same. kids fight with their mothers, and are more liable to act out with them than with other people's mothers. i used to fight with my mom every single day about brushing my hair, and i can tell you asking me gently would not have helped, she was not choosing to have to chase me around the house every morning. does anyone think wolf-blooded tomboyish lyanna also had a mean mom?

#there's also the situation of being a hostage to bwb and still wearing bolton rags and smallwood saying that it is a death sentence

well, yeah, i'm not saying she shouldn't have been taken out of those clothes at all. it's just that 1 bath should have been sufficient to wash the stink off her and it would have been more practical to put her in boy's clothes from the start, or at least after the acorn dress. i'm not trying to hate on lady smallwood, i like her too, but the point is, when comparing ravella smallwood with catelyn stark, it must be noted that yes, only one is arya's mother, not just in the sense that arya loves her mother and only wants her, but bc children act differently with their actual parents than with other adults, strangers, parents of other children. arya didn't care about the lady's early attempts to bond with her through talk of needlework and her daughter, it was only at the end of the chapter when she spoke of her dead son that arya felt a connection. idt that one moment is enough to say their interactions were better than any arya had with her actual mother, or that she'd have a better, more easily feminine life if she only had a mother like lady smallwood.

[starkrogerrs]

The Darkest Touch

@oluka possessed me in spirit and wrote this. it’s 4450 words of literal p*rn. enjoy.

[Explicit content warning]

Steve shuddered as a sudden, frigid wind blew up the hill. He drew his arms closer around himself, taking in a deep breath. He felt disconnected from any life; he couldn’t see anything for miles around him— all vision blanketed by a thick fog. Another draft of wind made his eyes water. Atleast, he blamed the wind for it.

He’d put on a brave face for his crying mother, as he said his goodbyes — a final acceptance of a fate that was handed to him by the great Oracle himself. Now, he didn’t feel as valiant.

“The virgin is destined for no mortal lover. His future husband awaits him on the top of the largest hill. He is a monster whom neither gods nor men can resist." 

The oracle’s words still rang as clear as day in Steve’s ears.

He gazed into the distance as the sky darkened. Maybe the demon would not be coming, he thought to himself and his heart soared. Maybe the oracle was wrong. 

Steve could hardly bear the thought of having to give up all of his freedom — to becoming a prisoner to a monster, of all things. 

A dull ache burned in his chest and he let out a sob. He felt a torrent of emotions — fear, anticipation and worst of all, hot, burning anger. His only crime had been that his allure rivalled the gods’; something he had no control over and yet was being punished for. Steve let out a growl and punched the slab of granite beside him as the world grew blurry from his tears. 

Before long, the sky turned obsidian and Steve felt his eyes grow heavy. He leaned against the cool stone, feeling the exhaustion take over and fell asleep.

  *

  When he woke up, Steve was no longer on the hill. His body sunk into the silken mattress as he blinked his eyes open. The room was stunning — marble furnished and glistening in the sunlight that poured in through the high windows. 

Was this the lair of the beast he was to wed?

It certainly didn’t look like one. The chamber itself was thrice as big as Steve’s own home.

He marveled in awe as he slid out of the giant bed and walked outside which led into a courtyard of sorts. The capitals of the giant columns were intricate, glinting scarlet and golden as Steve gazed on, mesmerized. The walls were adorned with carvings and paintings representing fables and stories he’d heard as a child.

“All that you see is yours,” a voice called suddenly and Steve startled. He looked all around him, but could not spot the source.

“Who are you?” he called, fear seizing him. Would he finally see the monster himself?

“I am yours as well,” said the voice. It seemed to be coming from all around him. 

“Feel free to explore as you like, retire to your room when you please and dine to your heart’s content.”

“But-��

“My, and by extension now your, helpers, will be happy to serve you.”

“A feast has been laid out for you in the adjoining hall, my lord,” came another voice which Steve assumed was the aforementioned helper's. Again, he could not see anybody.

Steve was still reeling from what had just happened as the invisible attendant guided him to the hall. There, true to what the monster had said, lay a feast fit for the gods. A long table stood in the middle, covered with several mouth-watering delicacies and the sweetest wines. As he took his seat, invisible performers burst into a song; filling his ears with a sweet symphony.

Steve felt strangely content as he settled into the bath laid out for him. While he was on the hill, he had expected the worst. Instead, he found himself at a retreat fit for a god. Perhaps this was preparation for when he would see the demon himself. The thought diminished his spirits, a little.

He spent hours staring at the sculptures that stood in the garden, and then moved to exploring the palace; the marble feeling colder and colder under his feet as night settled in. 

Stars began their ascent into the sky and Steve had yet to see his husband. 

An attendant guided him towards a room then, which Steve found strange. He asked the voice why he was there, but no reply came. He was all alone in the hauntingly cold quarters. This room was just as big as Steve's, but it was not made for light. It was shrouded in darkness, save for the little that poured in through the open door, where Steve stood. 

Steve wandered in cautiously as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. A single, large, canopied-bed stood in the middle of the room, if there was other furniture, Steve could not see it.

Goosebumps erupted on his arms as he felt sudden movement behind him and just as he  turned, the door shut. It sealed all the light behind it, throwing the room into pitch blackness. 

Steve rushed to the door, scrambling for the handle and pushed. But the door refused to budge. 

"You wish to leave?"

Steve startled for the second time that day. His heart began to pound inside his chest. This was it, he would finally meet his fate. 

"Don't be afraid, Steve," the voice called, and for the first time Steve noticed how cool and honey-like it was. 

"I can't see you," Steve said, rather foolishly.

The voice sighed. Steve heard dull footsteps followed by something scraping against the floor. 

"There isn't a mortal prettier than you," the voice noted and Steve flushed in spite of himself. 

"I wish I could say the same about you," Steve said and knew that his words were scathing. 

The voice only laughed. "Trust me, gorgeous. It is in your best interest that you don't see me."

There was a sudden draft and Steve felt something brush against him. What grotesque monster was he facing that he wasn’t to lay eyes on him? 

"And why is that?" Steve breathed, knowing that the monster — his fated consort — was standing very close. He backed himself further up against the door, wishing it would open.  

The creature ignored him. 

"Undress for me," he ordered and Steve froze, his grip on the handle tightening. 

"Steve."

The tone made it clear that he didn't really have a choice except to listen. He willed himself to stay calm as he slowly unclasped his chiton, letting it pool around his belt, leaving his chest bare. 

He heard the creature's breathing deepen, and Steve felt his skin prickle. 

"All off," the voice commanded urgently, and Steve felt his knees give out a little under him. 

He tugged at the belt, letting the chiton slip from his skin and down to the floor, leaving him nude and stripped in front of the monster. 

"So beautiful," the creature said, voice laced with lust. Steve felt his heart race at the compliment but his mind felt conflicted. He was talking to a monster who would do as he pleased with him. 

"I'm going to touch you now," he said gently, and Steve found it inexplicably hard to move away. It was as if he had no will of his own. As the creature moved closer, he could feel his hot, deep breaths fanning his neck. 

Steve waited with bated breath, for the touch. What would his skin feel like? 

He shuddered when warm skin touched his unclad hip. The creature’s fingers were calloused enough to drive Steve's thoughts into dirty waters; his touch, light, as if waiting for Steve's permission and Steve gulped. 

His heart raced as the demon’s hand trailed upwards to his collarbone coming to rest on his jaw. He could feel his breath on his lips, smelling like warm flour and Steve's heart gave a tiny leap. He felt a pair of lips brush against his own, arousal thrumming low in his stomach; the lips pressed harder, and Steve gave in easy, way too easily. 

He groaned as the kiss deepened, his destined husband's hands roaming over his skin in a frenzy. He seemed eager, and as aroused as Steve was which only fueled him further. He felt like he was burning and cold all at once under a lover's touch.

Steve let his own hand reach outwards, coming to rest on smooth,  warm skin and the creature stiffened against his lips.

There was a sudden flutter, followed by a gust of wind and Steve opened his eyes to find the creature gone, leaving the door swinging in his wake. 

  *

  Steve spent the entirety of next day in his chamber mostly, recalling events from last night. 

His husband hadn't felt inhuman, even though the oracle had said he was; His lips — soft as silk, hands — calloused but gentle felt all too human. 

How easily Steve had let go of himself, letting his mind succumb to promises of pleasure. And yet, he found himself wondering where the night would've taken them if he hadn't touched him... 

Was he not to touch him? How was he to make love to his husband if he was not allowed to touch him, to feel their skins against each other as they moved in passion? 

"The lord has asked you to wait for him in the dark chamber as before, sire," called an invisible servant and Steve shook himself out of his thoughts. 

The sun had long set and the moon shone brightly, dimming only when an occasional cloud passed over. Sliding off the alcove, he padded towards the room half reluctantly.  

He seated himself on the bed this time, it's unparalleled softness laxing. He wished he could snuggle into it and wake up to find that this was all but a dream. And yet, he was conflicted with his own mind — the creature’s kiss alone had swept him off his feet.

Suddenly, the door shut although Steve had not seen anyone come in.

"You seem to have missed me, beloved," the demon said, in a brazen tone. 

Steve said nothing as the man drew closer, his warm breath announcing his proximity. 

"I've surely missed you," came a whisper right next to his ear then and his heart jumped, and he felt something wet lick the shell of his ear. 

Steve felt an arousal pump through him as he slipped out of his tunic wordlessly, baring himself once more to his invisible lover. His mind seemed to slowly shut off around the creature, as if intoxicated by his seductive charm.

Then he was being kissed again, impossibly heated this time. Steve felt himself growing erect already, as the man's tongue flicked across his lips and then invaded his mouth. 

Steve was still squeamish, but the attention to his mouth set his blood on fire. In spite of what had happened last time, Steve reached for the demon again and felt the firmness of his chest, heartbeat throbbing under his fingers. To his surprise, the creature didn't pull away. Instead, closed the distance between them until their chests were pressed together. Steve felt brave, as they continued to nibble each other, sliding his hand down his side, curiosity getting the better of him. His hand curved down the man's bare behind, right down to his thick thighs. Steve tried to picture the man in his head — lean and shapely muscles that fit perfectly into him. 

The demon pressed even closer, and Steve gasped as he felt the warm press of his sprung cock against his stomach. He took a shaky breath, as his fated partner moved to his jaw, sucking hard. His moans seemed to only entice him further. 

Nothing about his future husband seemed abnormal to him and yet the oracle had said he was a monster. He was truly puzzled.

Steve ran his hands back up the man's ass, squeezing as he went, enjoying the groans that spilled against the crook of his neck. His hands trailed up his back, brushing against something very soft, as if extending from his back — but the creature seized his wrist suddenly, and pulled away. 

“Hands off,” he murmured, in between pants and Steve forced a gulp. 

Gathering both of his hands, he pinned them against the headboard and Steve felt his cock twitch at the sheer force. 

Out of nowhere, he felt something soft and satin-like wrap around his fists and tie them together before they were slammed against the headboard, right above his head. 

Steve yanked hard, but the satin restraints seemed to tie him firmly to the bedpost. 

"You paint a pretty picture," the creature observed, and Steve felt his body shiver under his gaze. He felt embarrassed and hot, spread out so obscenely before him.

The creature lowered himself onto Steve again, and Steve arched against him, relishing in the warmth that his body provided. His lips sucked at Steve's collarbone, moving lower and lower and Steve felt his entire body grow feverish. 

He groaned slow and long as the creature licked down the length of this cock, at a pace that felt like the world was standing. Body tightening as the demon pulled away again, Steve whimpered. 

Cold enveloped Steve once more. He whined, needing the creature’s touch. Not before long, he felt a knee wrench his legs apart and pull him lower. His hands stretched against the restraints now, body splayed on the silken sheets as he waited for the creature — man— to have his way with him. 

Steve gasped loudly when he felt a finger push inside him suddenly. Slowly at first, the man pulled and pushed, before working in another finger and picking up pace all in one breath and Steve felt like he was going to explode. 

Every push lifted him higher and higher, as his body throbbed for release. 

"Please," he whimpered, tugging at the darned restraints that wouldn't budge. He was so painfully close. 

"My pleasure," came the deep, hoarse reply and with a last, maddening push Steve came all over himself, moaning a string of curses. 

"Good boy," the man teased and Steve felt himself flush, although he could barely make sense of anything around him. He felt dizzy still, and blood continued to roar in his ears. 

He had hardly recovered from the ecstasy of the last orgasm before he was being turned and pried open again. 

"Not done with you yet, darling. Open up."

Steve found himself eagerly obeying the command, despite the fact that his arms had started to hurt above his head. The man pulled Steve's thighs open, draping his legs over Steve's and pressed his length between his hips from behind teasing the hole.

Steve hissed as the man filled him, his walls expanding to take him whole. Deep in his gut something throbbed, and he wriggled against his hips, urging him to move. 

He gasped as the man started his pace, pulling out right until the tip and slamming into him again with inhuman force. His fingers dug into Steve's skin as he drove into him, moving faster and Steve squeezed his eyes shut, moans beginning to fall from his lips. 

“Faster,” he begged, feeling his walls stretch with each thrust. The violent pleasure built up, as his pace quickened to indescribable speeds. 

Each deep jab of his cock felt more violent, and Steve felt himself edging closer to climax once again. 

He bucked his hips, as pleasure finally burst forth and he was lost in its surges. His husband pulled him close then, thick arms enveloping him and thrust hard as the bed shook under them.

Steve was beginning to feel light headed, his grip from reality loosening. Just then his lover stilled, grunting hard as his warm seed filled Steve. He felt sweaty and exhausted, but his body thrummed warmly as the man held him close. They fell into the bedding, panting in unison as his lover's erratic trusts came to a still. 

"Perfect," Steve heard him whisper and his heart soared with pride. 

With a start Steve realised that his fear was long gone, replaced instead with bold curiosity. 

"Who are you?" he breathed, attempting to turn but failing. 

Steve felt a set of lips press against his shoulder in a chaste kiss. 

"All in good time, sweetheart," came the reply and Steve felt his heart flutter. “All in good time.”

Steve couldn’t find the strength to argue.

"What do I call you then?"

"Whatever you wish to. I ask only one thing, that you be here, ready and waiting for me, everyday. Understood?"

Steve found himself nodding at his future husband's words. 

"Understood."

"Good," he said and Steve felt his eyes droop, the exhaustion catching up. He didn't even realise that his hands were no longer tied when sleep finally claimed him. 

  *

  In the morning, as expected, his husband was nowhere to be found. Steve had woken up to find himself bare between the tangled sheets, cheeks flushing as he remembered the events that had transpired last night. 

As it were, he felt ashamed to have fallen prey to his husband's allure again. The mere thought of seeing him again filled him with passionate desire and it angered him deeply that he was so weak for him, despite the fact that he was here against his will. 

Steve decided to explore the palace more, later that evening, and found himself on a veranda overlooking the gardens. A shallow pool stood in the middle of it, it's shimmering waters calling to Steve. Slipping off his toga he waded in, finding it to be surprisingly warm — a welcome relief for sore muscles. All the while, his eyes searched for his lover, feeling alarmed when anything in the shadows moved. But no one approached him. 

As the sun dipped lower and the water grew colder, Steve's heart began to thump with excitement. He decided not to leave the veranda, hoping that his husband would seek him out and be forced to be in the open.

Steve was enjoying the hot water against his skin, when a familiar voice called to him.

"Steve.”

"My lord," Steve called back, mockery evident in his voice. 

"Come to me," the voice called again, echoing through the corner shadows. His voice reverberated all around Steve and he felt himself harden at his silken tone, much to his embarrassment. 

"Why don't you come to me?" he called back, feeling a chill blossom over his being. 

"Don't make me make you, Steve."

The voice seemed annoyed and Steve would be lying if he said he didn’t like it. He didn't budge, however, pressing himself against the wall of the pool. 

Suddenly, his eyes went dark — a cloth had descended over his eyes and was tied back. He reached for the blindfold, terrified, but his arms were being pulled and tied behind him too. 

"You're stubborn, aren't you? Do I have to teach you to obey?" 

Steve said nothing, trying to make out just where his husband was standing. 

"Get out of the water," he commanded from somewhere above him. Having no other choice, Steve climbed out, trying his hardest to not slip right back in. 

"On your knees and bend over," he said hoarsely, as if overcome by the sight before him. 

Steve did as he was told, again, falling to the cool marble floor. His erection was throbbing now, the cool wind of the night doing little to help his case. 

Steve gasped sharply as something wet — his lover's tongue — swept over his hole. One flick and Steve was already gone. A split second later the tongue had pushed in and Steve screamed something incoherent. He felt his husband grip his thighs, wrenching them apart and pushing in further. 

Steve bucked against his mouth, trying to get close to what he now desperately wanted. But as quickly as it had come, the tongue was gone, leaving Steve open, bare and tingling all over. 

"P-please," he gasped, wiggling his ass — needing his touch, something, only to be greeted by the cold, cold breeze.

He couldn't even touch himself — but just then, crack — he shuddered, bucking as his husband's hand struck his butt cheek. 

He whimpered, feeling the slap ripple through his very core. He was blinded, pain ebbing through his lower body, knees feeling numb and yet, all he could think was how his lover’s tongue had felt.

"You failed to do the thing I asked." Steve didn’t detect any annoyance in his voice but believed him to be serious. He was still on fire and god, he needed him bad.

"Please," he begged, "I'm s-sorry."

"Louder, sweetheart. I can't hear you," his husband said. 

"I'm sorry," Steve croaked, feeling his voice thicken with want. "I need you. I'll be good."

There was deafening silence for a moment, punctuated by the man’s deep breaths.

"Walk in front of me."

The man led him to what Steve believed was the dark chamber. Before he knew it, Steve was being pushed onto the silken bed in no time. He was feeling ravenous, needing his lover's lips on him. 

His hands were still tied, eyes blindfolded — although it wasn't necessary since he couldn't see him either way. 

His fear was once again turning into thrumming desire, the ache between his legs pulsing. 

"Why did you disobey me?" the man asked suddenly, sounding pained and Steve found that his heart did not like this one bit. 

"I wished to see you, m-my Lord. I don't care what you look like—" Steve began, earnestly. 

"Do you doubt my love for you? Haven't I given you everything you've asked?"

Steve found it hard to argue with him at that, but he burned to know who his lover was. "But—"

"If you saw me you would either despise me or love me. I would rather not risk it. "

Steve said nothing, blinking in the dark. Whatever he said, only made him more questions erupt in his mind. His destined husband seemed anything but a monster, and yet his refusal to reveal himself terrified Steve. What exactly was he hiding? 

Sprawled on the bed, he felt his husband lower himself onto him again and he was forced to push his thoughts aside. And then the man was kissing him, hands fondling every dip and peak of Steve's body. His hands moved to grip Steve's ass, kneading and twisting until he was a squirming mess beneath him. 

"Steve," the voice said against his lips, feverish and frantic. He seemed to be in a different mood today, his tone sounding less demanding than usual. 

Still, Steve waited, breathing heavily, ready to do whatever he was asked. 

"I'm going to need you to suck me. Can you do that?" 

His tone was firm but calculated and Steve felt his heart tighten with anticipation. He remembered how his lover's cock had felt against his stomach and inside him. He wondered what it looked like, mouth watering at the mere thought. 

Steve nodded, and he rose, crawling over him. And then, Steve felt the tip of the shaft against his lips. Wetting his lips, Steve pressed a firm kiss against the side, determined to do his best. 

He opened his lips then, and the man pushed in, grunting. He could make out its girth and vague shape as he slowly took him in, savoring the salty taste. 

His husband hissed as Steve began to hollow out his cheeks, licking the underside as he went. He began to move against his mouth as Steve blew and sucked at his length, hips twitching erratically. 

His husband moaned a string of curses as Steve wrapped his tongue around him and sucked hard and fast. Steve bobbed his head up and down the shaft, building up the friction that elicited grunts from his lover. With a shout the man came, his warm cum coating Steve's throat. And he took everything he had to give, gulping hard.

The man pulled out then, moving to kiss Steve again, hand trailing towards his own cock. Steve gasped as he took his erect cock in his palm, stroking him as he kissed him deeply. 

Several climaxes later, Steve found himself drifting, feeling more worn out than he had ever before. His destined husband, however, proved to be insatiable — waking him up in between intervals throughout the night and pleasuring him in ways he had never even heard. 

  *

  Several days passed, as Steve grew more and impossibly intimate with his husband. 

For a while it was perfect, Steve felt the happiest and found that he was falling for his to-be-husband. 

Still, doubts lingered in the back of his head. How could he wed someone he would, perhaps, never see? In his heart, Steve knew he loved him, knew that even if his husband happened to be the most grotesque he would love him. 

Then, why, it finally dawned, did it matter if he did see him? 

That night, Steve found himself being ravaged by his lover again— his hands behind his back, mouth agape with pleasure and eyes squeezed shut. 

He was pushed over the edge again, and three times after that, until they both collapsed into each other— in a heap of tangled limbs. 

His husband had long removed his restraints, one arm draped across Steve’s form as he slept on. But Steve was wide awake, heart beating wildly against his chest. If he could ever chance a look upon his future husband, it was now. 

He hadn’t a minute to waste and ran as fast as he could to his room and back, bringing a lit candle into the dark room.

When the flame finally cast its amber light onto his lover’s sleeping form, his body froze. For, instead of a monstrous demon, his husband was the most ethereal being Steve had ever seen. He was lean and muscly — bronze skin and refined features. Perfect, dark curls fell atop his head, long eyelashes resting gently against his cheekbones. Giant, white-feathered wings sprung from his back, that seemed to shimmer gold and scarlet in the dim candle light.

He knew at once who he was, not a man either, as he had thought, but a god. The son of Aphrodite and a mortal man — Tony, himself. He was so drawn to his allure, despite the fact that he had not been poisoned by one of his mechanical arrows. The longer he gazed at his form the more impossible he found it to resist him.

He drew closer, mesmerised, and in his daze, tripped over his feet. A drop of wax from the candle went plummeting down and landed on his lover’s— the god’s— sleeping face.

His eyes snapped open at once, and Steve staggered back— fearing for his life, once again.

[fangirl-writes]

Home Sick

70s!Roger x Reader x Ben

Warning(s): Swearing, mentions of sex, Roger being a little shit

Notes: How does this universe work, you ask. Shhhh, I tell you, just let us live in fantasy land. Aka I watched BoRhap again and I'm a sucker for Rog and Ben. Also very inspired by @strangeandwonderfulconcepts​ ‘s versions of this couple. I feel like it’s kind of all over the place, though.

Summary: Ben's away for filming and you're left at home with Roger who's working on Queen's new album and annoying you.

“Roger Taylor, I swear to God!”

Ben bit his lip as a smile spread across his lips, trying not to laugh at your outburst. He was sat in his hotel room, phone pressed to his ear, enjoying the small amount of downtime he had before filming resumed the next day. “What’s he done now?”

“He keeps poking me in the ass with his drumsticks. Oh!” You (who was back at Roger’s mansion in Surrey) cried out again. “Roger I will throw this lamp at you!”

Ben heard Roger’s muffled reply in the background. He could picture the mischievous grin on his face.

“Oh, so the lamp’s important but that TV you threw out the window- it is not different!”

Ben couldn’t stop smiling. The bickering was a little childish and silly, but it warmed Ben’s heart to hear the two people he loved the most bicker about nothing.

“And put that damn cigarette out! You’ll burn the house down with that nasty habit.” 

Ben could tell Roger was right next to you now as he said. “Ben thinks it’s sexy. Don’t you, Ben?”

“Yeah, well, Ben also thinks you look sexy in leopard print.”

“Hey!”

Ben couldn’t hold back his laughter now.

Both you and Roger were smiling at his laugh on the other end, playfully shoving each other to get closer to the phone so you could hear him.

You let out a squeal suddenly and Ben heard the crash of something that he assumed to be the lamp mentioned earlier. “Honestly!”

He could hear Roger laughing as he ran away. You’d obviously missed him with the lamp.

“God, Ben, I’ve got to go. Our boyfriend is being a pain in the ass and I’ve gotta kiss the brains outta him. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“’Course. Tell Rog, I love him.”

"Of course,”

“G’night, Y/N,” Ben said. “Love you.”

“We love you, too, Ben. Goodnight.”

You hung up and Ben sat there quietly for a moment, the phone still pressed to his ear as he remembered the sound of the laughter. God he missed them.

He’d worked on projects this long before but they’d always been right there in London where he could grab a taxi or have Roger come and pick him up at the end of the day. Now he was out of the country and he realized how much he took for granted the time he got to spend at home.

He assumed Y/N and Roger were accustomed to the situation. Roger was always gone on tour for months after they released a new album and Y/N sometimes had to travel for work, but Ben was always at home with one of them. Now he was the one branching off. 

He set the phone on the nightstand and laid down in the white sheets of the hotel bed.

It felt odd, almost foreign to him; laying alone in a bed. Roger wasn’t there to snuggle his face into his neck or play with the hair at the nape of his neck. Y/N wasn’t there to spoon him or tangled their legs together. No playful fighting over the covers, no cold feet or wandering hands, no drumming of Roger’s fingers against his arm, no Y/N drawing shapes on his back. It was funny to think how much he’d grown accustomed to the feeling of not just one but two people (his two people) laying in bed with him.

He fell asleep with those thoughts and a longing ache in his chest. 

Meanwhile, you were chasing Roger through the house, trying to take his drumsticks from him after he’d poked you in the ass one too many times. The two of you had just finished up doing...things and were enjoying a sweet moment until the drumsticks made a return.

Roger was laughing hysterically and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t grinning from ear to ear.

You were clad in only Roger’s white button up, your underwear, and socks while Roger had opted to only return to his boxers.

Suddenly he was cornered in the kitchen and you jumped onto his back, reaching an arm over his shoulder for the sticks still clutched in his hand, but he’d stuck his own arm out over the countertop so you couldn’t reach them.

“Roger, give them here!”

“Over my dead body!”

“That can be arranged!”

Roger burst into another fit of laughter and you giggled into his ear, still straining for the drumsticks.

You eventually gave up, dropping your hand and laying your head on Roger’s shoulder, breathing heavily as the laughter died down. He dropped the drumsticks on the counter and hooked his arms under your legs to help hold you up; a smile still on his lips and his cheeks sore from laughter.

You closed your eyes and it was silent for a few moments.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, lovie?” He asked softly.

“Thinking that Ben would’ve been filming or taking pictures of us if he’d have been here...”

Roger hummed in agreement, walking from the kitchen towards the lounge. “I miss him, too,”

You still had your eyes closed, trusting Roger to set you down gently wherever he was taking you. “I wish you weren’t working on the album so we could go see him.”

“Me too. The boys’ve been exhausting lately. I love ‘em, but there’s only so much you can take sometimes.”

“Well, three explosive personalities plus Deacy-”

“Hey, you haven’t seen Deaks mad. It’s scary.”

“Yeah, well, I try to stay on his good side unlike somebody I know who likes to push buttons.”

Roger rolled his eyes as he deposited you onto the couch. You laughed as you bounced off the cushons before laying down, Roger crawling on top of you and laying on your chest.

“We would not fit nearly as well on this couch with Ben,” You commented with a grin.

“Yeah, we’ve tried, though. One of us always ends up on the floor.”

“Or squooshed,”

“Or both,”

You both smile, an ache running through your chests.

“He’s been gone far too long.”

“Yeah, when’s his film ‘sposed to wrap anyway?”

“Not sure. Should ask him when he calls tomorrow.”

Roger groaned. “Tomorrow is so far away.”

You ran your fingers through his hair. “Indeed it is,”

You fell into a comfortable silence after that. You putting Roger to sleep as you massaged his scalp and you lost in thought, staring at the ceiling.

“You think the boys might give you a few days off if I promise them you’ll be less grumpy when we get back?”

Roger looked up at you with a pout. “I am not grumpy.”

“You are too,” You said, a smile spreading across your face. “You miss Ben and when you miss one of us you get grumpy. Like that time on tour when you snapped a drumstick when you weren’t able to call us one night? Or when you busted a tambourine after we weren’t able to make it to the nearest show? Or when-”

“Okay, okay, I get it, I’m destructive.”

You laughed and Roger laid his head back down on your chest. “I suppose they might give that a go.”

“Then I’m calling Freddie,”

*** Ben woke up the next morning reaching out across the bed; searching for warmth that wouldn’t be there. He groaned, heart slightly heavy, as he shut off his alarm.

A shiver ran up his spine as he sat up and he cursed himself for not turning up the temperature before heading to bed. That had been the one advice Roger had given him before he departed. “When waking up alone in your hotel room, the temperature will always be colder than you want it. Check it before bed.”

He didn’t have time to dwell on his heartache before he had to gather his bearing and head to the set for his early shoots, but he missed Y/N’s good luck kisses and, oddly, Roger’s smack to his bottom before he would head out the door for a day of filming.

He shut the door to his hotel room and shook his head, trying to shake the homesick thoughts from his mind.

They wouldn’t do him any good anyway. It’s not like he’d be able to satisfy the ache.

Or so he thought.

***

You and Roger were currently sat on a plane, headed for Ben’s filming location.

Roger’s blonde hair was stuffed inside a cap and he had on a dark pair of sunglasses in an attempt to hide his identity. You’d asked him if he’d dye his hair black but he outright refused the offer.

“Love, I know you want this to be a surprise, but even if any paps or fans see us Ben hardly checks that stuff when he’s not filming. I doubt he’d bother while he is.”

You sat next to him, asleep, eyes closed with your sunglasses on, hair loose around your face, and the hood of your jumper pulled up on your head. Your earbuds playing your favorite music.

It was an early flight and you’d been up most of the night preparing for this spur of the moment trip. You wanted everything to be perfect.

“I can sleep on the plane,” You’d told Roger.

And you did. 

Roger laid his head on top of yours as you dozed on his shoulder, a book held between his fingers to pass the time, but, truthfully, he couldn’t focus on it. For some reason he had a lot on his mind.

The three of you hadn’t gone public with your relationship, but the paps had taken notice of Roger’s “mysterious lovers” and Ben and Roger had been seen talking at a party a few times, heaven forbid, but Roger had never dwelled on it before. You didn’t go to events together, never went on vacations together, Ben and you still had your own apartments away from Roger’s house so when he was gone on tour you wouldn’t be questioned coming out of his house while he wasn’t there; you’d taken practically every precaution to make sure the press wouldn’t find out before the three of you were ready.

Roger dug into his jacket pocket for his phone, discarding the book onto the table in front of him.

He opened social media with good intentions.

#rogertaylorxy/n-l/n

OMG did you see the way Roger looked at Y/N during the interview? #hearteyes

Roger is so in love with Y/N. They should just get together already. #(your-ship-name)

(you-ship-name) is real ❤

Roger resisted the urge to like any of them before moving on.

#rogertaylorxbenhardy

Ben said he wasn’t looking for a relationship rn but he looks at Roger says otherwise 👀

Roger and Ben spend an awfully large amount of time together for two people who claim to be ‘just friends’.

Forget Maylor have you seen the way Hardylor look at each other?

Roger snickered quietly. Okay, maybe he and Ben weren’t doing the greatest job either.

He stroked his chin for a moment before taking to the keyboard again.

#benhardyxy/n-l/n

Y/N and Ben seemed awfully friendly during her interview with him #(your-ship-name)

Have you seen the pictures of Ben and Y/N at that coffee shop together??? I bet it was a date 💘

Y/N brought Ben a flower at the BAFTAs to put in his suit pocket and he never took it out! I bet he still has it.

Observant, Roger thought, Ben definitely still has the fake flower.

He hummed in thought. What if...

#benhardyxy/n-l/nxrogertaylor

Y/N spends a lot of time with Roger Taylor and Ben Hardy outside of a professional setting. Who’s she dating though??? What if it’s both???

OMG BEN AND Y/N WERE SEEN LEAVING ROGER’S HOUSE! IN THE MORNING!!!

I bet Y/N Ben and Roger are all dating and just keeping it on the down low. We’ve all seen the heart eyes they give each other.

Y/N and Roger just got on a plane heading to the place Ben’s filming in as seen by his Instagram story. Coincidence?

Roger’s eyes went wide. He checked the timestamp: 20m ago.

Well, Y/N was right. Maybe he should’ve died his hair.

“Looking for something in particular?” Y/N asked, eyes now opened sleepily and looking at phone screen from his shoulder.

“Not really,” Roger replied. “Just curious. Seems the fans are supportive...and onto us.”

He handed you the phone and you squinted at the screen.

“Queenskiller, huh? Clever person.”

“I can see why you were paranoid now,”

You laughed. “We’re almost there. As long as it’s not obvious where we’re going, we’ll be fine.”

***

“And CUT! Good work today everyone, let’s wrap up for lunch.”

Ben sat up from his position where his character had just been beaten to near death and went to get the fake blood cleaned off of him by the makeup designer.

The radio in the trailer was fading out a Beatles song and fading in Bohemian Rhapsody.

It made Ben’s heart ache.

“Hey, did you see Y/N L/N’s new interview with Harry Styles and Elton John?”

The makeup artist removing the makeup shook their head. “Not yet, is it good?”

“Of course. She asks them about their collaboration, similar tastes in style, and she doesn’t mention their sexualities like every other interviewer does.”

“Thank god for her, she’s a blessing. All those other nosy interviewers don’t ever ask anything interesting. The celebrities always do all the work to make the interview enjoyable. At least Y/N is interesting.”

Ben couldn’t help but smile softly to himself. He was proud.

“Have you heard she might be dating Roger Taylor?”

“The Queen drummer? Yeah. I heard they were getting on a plane together this morning.”

“Secret honeymoon?”

“Maybe,”

Ben’s eyebrows furrowed. They got on a plane? They didn’t mention they were going anywhere on the phone.

“Ben, you okay there, dear?”

“Hm? Oh, yes, sorry. Just lost in thought.”

Ben exited the trailer with a clean face and a wandering mind.

It wasn’t unlike Y/N and Roger to be spontaneous but Roger was working on the album and he thought Y/N had another interview today.

Ben shook his head and pulled out his phone. Whatever. He’d just call them and get things cleared up. He was done on set for the remainder of the evening anyway.

He hit the home phone number and waited as it rang.

And rang. And rang.

“Thank you for calling Roger Taylor’s home phone, but I am currently out at the moment. Leave a message and I might call you back.”

Ben hung up.

Okay, so they weren’t home. No big deal, he could still call your cells.

He hit your contact and waited as it rang.

***

You were rolling your luggage out of the airport with Roger when I Saw Her Standing There blasted from your phone.

Recognizing Ben’s personal ringtone, you picked up the phone. “Hey, Benny, what’s up?”

“Nothing much. Just got done filming. Hey, did you and Roger go somewhere? Makeup artists were gossiping about it.”

You gave Roger a panicked look before quickly answering. “Oh, no. Must’ve been wrong. We’re just out for a walk.”

Roger rolled his eyes at your terrible lying skills.

But Ben seemed relieved. “Oh. I thought you might’ve gone somewhere and forgotten to tell me.”

“Oh no, not at all we just-”

Roger pulled you cellphone from your fingers and pressed it against his ear.

“Ben, you don’t need to worry about us. We’re doing fine.”

The rental car you and Roger had gotten pulled up and you quickly tossed you suitcase in the back and jumped in the passenger. Roger took the keys and got in the driver’s seat.

“I know, but I just wanted to make sure. Kept eating at me.”

“Ben, baby, where are you at, right now?”

“Uh, outside the set just about to head back to my hotel, why?”

“Oh, no reason. What hotel’s that again?”

“Lotus Hotel, why?”

“Just curious. Are they treating you right or do I need to make a phone call.”

“Christ, Rog, it’s find. Don’t freak. Are you driving? I thought Y/N said you were on a walk.”

“Oh, we just got back to the house and need to head to the store. Nothing too interesting.”

“A trip to the store with you is always interesting.”

“He’s not wrong,” you chirped from your seat and Roger sent you a playful glare, making you laugh.

Ben smiled. “Gosh I wish I could speed up the production. I’ve been gone from you two way too long.”

“Believe us, Benny, we agree. Hold on, gonna give you back to Y/N,”

He handed you your phone back as you handed him his for directions to the hotel.

“How was filming?” You asked, trying to change the subject.

“All right. Filmed the fight scene today, that was interesting.”

You hummed in response.

“Hold on, Y/N, I just got in a taxi- yes, take me to the Lotus Hotel on thirteenth please.”

“Thirteenth?” Roger cursed. “Stupid phone says twelfth.”

“It’s on the corner of the two. He’s coming from the other direction, remember?” You replied, hand covering the receiver.

“What was that, love?” Ben asked.

“Oh, nothing, Roger just missed the turn, again.” You quickly replied. “You said you filmed a fight scene today?”

“Yeah, my character, Jack, got the piss beat out of him in a fight. Gets pretty bloodied up.”

“Well, you know nothing can make that pretty face of yours prettier than blood.”

“Is that a reference to my bloody nose? ‘Cause I keep tellin’ you it was a one time thing.”

You laughed. “Just teasing you, baby,”

Ben let out a laugh of his own, leaning back against the leather seat. “I really miss you guys.”

“We miss you, too. I hope that- Roger it was right there! Oh, jesus, Ben, I gotta go, Roger’s missing turns again. See you soon.”

The line cut off before Ben could question you. See you soon?

***

“’See you soon.’?! Bloody hell, Y/N, why don’t you just give away your own surprise.” Roger said.

“Well, if you hadn’t missed the turn I wouldn’t have had to hang up!” You retorted. “We need to get there before him, remember?”

Roger stuck his tongue out at you as he turned the car around.

You stuck yours out as well and it turned into a fit of giggles throughout the car.

Finally, Roger pulled into the hotel’s parking lot and parked the car in a spot.

“Your turn to call him, Mr. Taylor,” You said, getting out of the directions and handing him his phone.

Roger put the phone to his ear and waited for Ben to pick up.

“Roger?”

“Benny! Made it to the hotel, yet?”

“Uh, no, close though. You not driving anymore?”

“Nah, Y/N is in the store. She wouldn’t let me go in with her. Thought I might get a little more chat outta you before she comes back.”

Ben laughed. “I guess I’ll allow that.”

“Popular boy, ain’t ya?” The driver asked as he turned the corner into the hotel lot.

Ben grinned. “Yeah, I ‘spose I am.” He handed the driver the money for the trip. “Keep the change.”

The driver tipped his cap at Ben and Ben got out of the taxi.

“Sorry, Rog, what were you saying?”

“Oh, not much, just wondering who let you walk off set in those joggers. They look hideous.”

Ben looked down at the old green joggers he was wearing with a laugh. “Yeah, I need to get a new pair- wait, how’d you know I was wearing joggers?”

Ben heard a whistle and turned around.

Y/N was waving and smiling from where she was sat on the trunk of a car and Roger was stood next to her, phone still pressed to his ear, with a big ol’ grin on his face.

Ben dropped the phone from his ear, ending the call, and ran over to them.

Roger intercepted his boyfriend, who practically jumped into his arms, and Y/N hoped off the car to join them in the hug. Ben wrapped an arm around her, squeezing the two of them tightly, tears beginning to pool in his eyes.

“Oh, I can’t believe you’re here!” He said, pulling back finally.

You and Roger laughed.

“Y/N’s a bad liar,” Roger quipped, nudging your side.

“Hey! I’m not the one who got lost!”

“I missed one turn!”

Ben kissed them on the cheek. “Shut up, the both of you, please.”

You and Roger melted, forgetting your bickering and appreciating his presence.

***

Ben went to sleep that night with both of you in his bed.

Roger had immediately turned down the thermostat and Y/N rubbed Ben’s shoulders to relax him. They fought over the covers, had a pillow fight, and made sure that Ben was in the middle.

It felt right. It felt like home.

“You two are amazing to me,” Ben said as his partners snuggled into him.

“You deserve it,” Y/N mumbled, laying against Ben’s chest, his heartbeat lulling her to sleep.

“Don’t ever leave us this long again,” Roger said, pressing a kiss to Ben’s neck.

Ben smiled. “Guess you two will just have to come see me, again,”

[weclassygirl]

𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐚, 𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐚

Word count: +4.7k

Pairing: santino d’antonio x f!reader

Summary: “They’re already waiting.”

Warnings: none i guess, fighting 

Author’s note: hi! i’m back with another part. the next part may take a bit longer for me to write, cause i’m dealing with something at my uni rn. as always give me your most brutal honest opinion so i can improve. english is not my first language so beware. take care everyone <3

dulce periculum series: 01 / 02 / 03 / ... / 05

Gif credits (x) 

After the plane lands in Rome, both of you waste no time driving to Naples. It's already night time in Italy, almost midnight actually. You drive through the heart of Rome, the car passes by the Colosseum and your eyes linger on it as you drive past it. The whole monument is even bigger and more magnificent than you could ever imagine.

Santino's eyes linger too but not on the ancient structure but on you. Once again he's studying your face, your reaction to the place you're in. Your face is still covered in bruises but they are nearly gone, right now the orange street lights dance on your face as well as the cover of night. 

You sigh softly, not being able to stop a gentle expression taking over your features. For a while you feel at ease, taking in the scenery around you. None of you utter a word throughout the almost 3 hour drive. You believe that it may be due to the long flight, everyone would be tired after sitting in one place for 8 hours. You have slept for almost the whole flight, somehow you still felt exhausted after the event at the Lounge… or maybe it has to do with the bruises still placed on your body.

The car stops before a gate that is followed by a brick driveway. You cannot see the mansion from your seat, the only thing visible is the well tamed grass and some other trees with bushes growing on it. 

You see a few guards placed in various spots, all of them wear elegant suits. The car nears the mansion and your eyes go slightly wide. You expected the mansion to be luxurious and grand, but somehow it feels like that richness collides with simplicity. 

Both of you step out of the car and walk towards the mansion. The two guards placed at the entrance nod their heads at Santino. You follow him as he steps into the building, nerves start to creep up your body as you move further into the mansion. 

"You will have a bedroom here too." he says as you pass the big mirror on the wall. You see your reflection in it for a moment before you move along. "Someone will show it to you later." 

As you keep walking further into the grand mansion you see a man coming up to Santino and whispering to him in Italian. 

"They're already waiting." both men glance at you and Santino nods his head to the guard. You draw your eyebrows together, wondering what they could be talking about. Who's waiting? 

The two of you move upstairs, walking along the wide hallway. There are paintings on the wall and some flowers placed on the tables. Both of you come to a stop and stand in front of rich dark door. You can hear a faint chatter behind the doors and look at Santino. He stares at the door as if he could see who's waiting behind them. Both of you enter the room.

There's ten people sitting at the table. Their discussion dies down as soon as they see you enter. A woman with gray hair sits at the head of it and by her sides sit two man, one dressed in a brown suit, the other in a black dress shirt. All of them look dangerous, the tension is filling up the air and you wonder if walking away now would be a wise idea.

You weren't expecting Camorra to have its own Council, but it does make sense in your mind. Someone has to be there if the head is dead or on the other side of the world.

"It's not proper to keep us waiting, boy." says a man with a nicely trimmed beard.  His eyes sharp and dark. 

Santino changes his whole attitude in a matter of seconds. "Well, seeing as I am the current head of this family I would have thought that it didn't matter if I arrived on time or not." he says with that arrogant grin growing on his face. It reminds you of the same arrogance he showed in front of Winston when he asked for John's membership to be revoked.

The gray haired woman doesn't respond to his statement. She gestures to the seats in front of you with her elegant hand. 

"Sit down, both of you." 

"We'll stand, let's get this over with quickly." Santino says in a hurried tone.

The woman is not pleased with that answer but decides to let it go, getting right into the reason you're all here. 

"What's your name girl?" she addresses you. 

Once again you think if it would be wise to give your real name, but still stick with the one you've been using since you got here. 

"Umm… Jade." you answer hesitantly. 

She can see through your lie as well as the others gathered around the long table.

"Jade." she tastes your name on her tongue, it makes your skin crawl. "Ms. Jade, we’re hearing that you have come from a world where all of this is a movie, correct?" she leans in her seat, her elbows rest on the dark table. 

"Yes." 

"And you stopped Mr. John Wick from killing Santino?" she questions further and you notice a hint of an Italian accent in her statement. 

"That's right." you answer her slowly. Your whole body is tense, all eyes are turned in your direction, the Council and the few of the guards placed in every corner. 

"Tell us then… what is it that you want?" she asks with an accusatory tone. "Money? Power? What would make you save him from the Baba Yaga?" 

You can't believe what you're hearing. Saving Santino could be seen as some kind of deal in the eyes of others, that you've done that only to gain some money for yourself but that's not the case.

You lived in one of the worst conditions possible over the years, your rent was cheap and so was the apartment. It wasn't much but it was home… even if you could call it that. You learned how to live off of scraps, you don't need luxury to feel like someone worthy, respectable even. 

"You're seriously think that I saved him because I want money?" you scoff in her direction, your eyes slightly widened and eyebrows raised. 

"Who wouldn't? Money is the language of the modern world, people with money are the ones that rule it, any world at that." you stare at her, disbelief taking over your features. You look towards Santino and immediately switch your attention to the woman at the table. 

"I don't need to tell you the reason. He lives, that's what matters, doesn't it?" you question, your voice is getting colder and colder with every passing minute. At this point you don't care that you're surrounded by one of the most powerful organization in all of Italy, maybe even the world. "Without him this whole organization would have been gone."

"You think that his death would have changed anything here? Listen to yourself, girl. Even if he were killed, we would have continued as before, stronger even." the woman argues, thinking she has the high ground. You look around, the others at the table watch your interaction like a tennis match. You begin to smile.

"No you wouldn't." you scoff.

"Excuse me?" the woman blinks.

"Jade…" Santino addresses you in a warning tone, but you just shake your head slightly and put your hand up as if to stop him from coming nearer. 

"No." you step closer to the table "If he wasn't alive, then all of this that has been build by his father would have been for nothing. The Camorra line needs to continue and you cannot do it without the heir. His father and Gianna are dead, he is the only person now that deserves that power here. Without a leader… you would all fall." you say, the accusations rise with every breath you take. "And I am pretty sure that any of you here wanted to see him dead,  just so you could have a chance at taking up that seat.” you finish your statement and see the woman put her hand up. 

You hear a soft click before you feel a cold barrel of a gun pressed on the back of your head. You freeze and raise your hands up slightly. You hang your hand down briefly and scoff. The grey haired woman has a look in her eyes that many surely would fear.

“One more word that would come out of that insolent mouth of yours and you will end up  with a bullet in your pretty little head.” she warns you through gritted teeth. Your shoulder tense up, you look towards Santino and his eyes filled with unexplained worry. You turn your gaze to the woman when you hear the Italian speak up next to you. 

“Maybe we could talk about the real reason why I called you all here,” he says with a serious expression forming on his face “rather than pointing a gun at her head.”

The woman at the table narrows her eyes at him, visibly agitated with the situation. 

“So what would be so important that you would call us here, at night with a stranger by your side?” she questions, her voice becoming more and more frustrated. 

Santino just smirks and briefly looks your way. The smirk faintly reaches his eyes that gleam in the low light of the room. 

“I’m sure that you would have her killed the moment she steps outside of this room, that’s why I want to make a proposition.” There’s a pregnant silence hanging in the room, but is soon dropped as the Italian man continues with his offer. “Let her work in the name of Camorra.”

You widen your eyes and look towards Santino who's already looking at you, his expression blank when you mouth to him what?. Your face shows confusion but is quickly replaced by the same calm that he now wears. 

Joining Camorra could help you in getting familiar with this world. If they trained you, you would have some kind of advantage, but also Santino could use it in his favor. The movie never showed how they truly work but from what you've seen you would believe that they do train the best of the best.

You hear a quiet chuckle from one of the other members sitting at the table.

“You think that a scrawny girl like her is capable of joining Camorra?” he questions with an anger and amusement building up in his voice.

“Yes I do, in fact at the Continental Hotel she told us that she has knowledge of multiple languages and of fighting, we could tests it here if you’re all doubtful.” the new Camorra leader responds, his eyes are solely focused on the people gathered in the room.

Before Santino can continue you hear a man speak up in Italian. "That stupid girl wouldn’t even survive the first night here.” he comments with a smirk directed to the man next to him. 

You feel anger and frustration build up inside you. 

"That stupid girl can hear you old man.” you respond in perfect Italian. The man's face quickly turns sour and shocked. You feel like you've made a terrible mistake, answering in that tone to one of the Camorra's Council. You feel the barrel of the gun being pressed into the back of your head with more force. Your eyesight travels to the edge of the table and stays there for a moment before it moves to the old woman. She raises her hand and you fear the worst. 

The guard behind you takes the gun away from your head but still remains in a close distance. Your shoulders seems to release some tension yet it doesn't make you even remotely relaxed.

Another member decides to take up on a voice but this time you hear him speaking in Chinese. “She is not of this world, she has no knowledge of it, it would be better to just get rid of her.” you decide to respond in the same language. “If you’re so worried about my knowledge than I can always learn everything there is to it here, it wouldn’t be a problem.” you look to Santino, he's watching the conversation like a game. 

There's a faint scraping of a chair on the marble floors and the old woman comes up closer to you and Santino. 

“You’ve got some fire in you girl, I’ll give you that.” she says. You don't know if you see amusement or even some sense of pride on her face. She looks towards the table and the rest of the Council gathered around it. “Very well, let’s see if you are capable of surviving here.”

The guard behind you hides his gun and all of you quickly leave for the shooting range placed beneath the mansion. You lock your eyes with Santino before departing to it.

You stand in front of the table, guns splayed across it as well as a set of bullets. You pick the gun up and weight it in your hand. Too heavy. You place it down and grab another one that is not too heavy but also not too light. The Council notices your choice of weapon. 

You look towards the target in front of you, at least 15 meters far. “Any specific point you want me to shoot?” you ask no one in particular but the woman standing behind you responds "Head, heart, mouth and a lower region.” you nod.

The gun in your hands suddenly feels heavy. You look towards the target and aim your gun. A faint breath is released from your lungs as if to calm yourself down and focus. 

You are surrounded by the most dangerous organization in all of Italy but now they don't matter. You imagine that they're not here with you, that even Santino is not here. You shoot. 

BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG.

The sound echoes in the open space. You still hold the gun up as the sheet of paper comes closer for all of you to see. The headshot is there but missed by a few centimeters. Mouth shot hit the jaw, heart was a bit off but very close. As for the lower region, you could hear some of the men gathered in the room wince softly as you shot the target. You put the gun down on the table with a soft thud.

You back up and the Council members come closer to inspect the target. They don't say anything but you see them nodding their heads as if they are impressed with your skill. You turn to Santino and he's wearing a surprised and proud expression on his face.

The thing is, you know how to shoot… vaguely. Your dad thought you how to shoot when you were in your early teens. It was a family trip to a fair, there was a shooting range and your parents saw that you have a good aim and you yourself liked it. They went with you to the shooting range whenever they could. 

The Council turns to you, all eyes burning into yours. They don't say a word just look you up and down. Everyone quickly moves to the gym. It's a simple place, handles placed in their designated area, a ring in the middle and punching bags along with some other equipment scattered around. One of the members, a man with a scar going up the side of his face throws you some gym clothes. Santino follows you as you go to change but lingers behind the slightly ajar door. 

"You don't have to do this." he says, concern lacing his voice.

"You were the one to offer this in the first place." you respond as you strip yourself off the clothing you previously wore. 

You're turned away from him but he still catches a faint scars adoring your arms, legs and back. The ones on the back seem more visible then the others, still red in some places along with some nearly invisible bruises. Santino quickly turns away and speaks up.

"I know that, what I meant was that you're about to face one of the best, here at Camorra." his voice is calm with a hint of that Italian accent. "Are you sure you want to do this?" 

There's a short pause hanging in the air. You want to do this, you do. This is your chance at belonging somewhere and if it's one of the most dangerous mobs in the world then… well, what do you have to lose. 

You step out of the room and face Santino. "I'm sure. If I back down now they'll know that I'm not up for this job. I have to try at least." Santino regards you but nods. He knows that you’re stubborn and won’t go down that easily. It’s one of the few things that made him so intrigued in you. 

Both of you walk towards the ring in the middle of the gym. Members of the Council have already gathered around it. A well build man is standing on the ring, ready for a fight. You look up at him and recognize the man as the same one that held a gun to your head. Your attention goes to the grey haired woman, her expression hard. You step under the lines of the ring and stand in the middle. 

No one utters a word, the only sign of the beginning of a match is a raised hand of the woman. The guard heads towards you. 

You advance at him, trying to kick him in the chest but he slaps your leg away. He swings at you with force that could easily knock you out. You move under his arm and elbow him in the ribs. He buckles down slightly, but quickly recovers and tries to punch you to the side of your head, you block him, but don’t hold for too long, given his strength. Instead you move under his arm again and twist it behind him. He stops for a moment and looks at you with unexplainable expression on his face. 

He uses your lack of attention and kicks his leg under yours, you lose your balance and fall onto the floor. He backs away and smirks at you, challenging look in his eyes. You quickly get up and glance at the Council. They don’t show any sign of approval or even a sign of being impressed. Santino locks his eyes with you before you hear the guard heading straight at you. He lands a punch to your face and ribs. You stumble backwards and hit the rope lines of the ring. 

You hear a clinking sound and see two daggers on the edge of the ring. Both of you quickly reach for them and the guard attacks. He cuts your arms and manages to get a cut in your thigh. You don't yell in pain, instead just run at the guard. He might be strong and much more build than you, but you're much faster. You go for his shoulder but he catches your arm and twists it in front of him so that you fly over his shoulder. Your back hits the floor with a thud, the knife flying out of your hand to the side. You grunt in pain and look towards the Council, still a blank expressions on their faces. 

You slowly get up and hear the guard chuckle. “Don’t you have enough, girl?” he asks. The dagger still in his hand, ready to be used. 

You take the dagger laying on the floor and run at him, he doesn't expect you to get down on your knees to cut his calves. He grunts in pain and turns around with anger behind his eyes. You manage to cut him in the arm and even stab his shoulder. You back away as he pulls the dagger out of his body and throws it to the ground. The man kicks you with a force that sends you to the edge of the ring. You feel the ropes press into your back again but this time the guard holds you by shoulders and punches your face until your lips bleed.

You don't give up, the man earns a nasty kick to his balls. He grunts in pain and you manage to punch him in the neck, cutting off his airflow and then go straight for the jaw. He's disoriented for a moment which gives you a perfect opportunity to wrap your legs around his head and hold him in a choke hold. He tries to throw you off of him but your grip only gets tighter, the man starts to become red. The Council and Santino watch the fight intently before the older woman's voice carries through the gym.

"Enough." Both of you stop your movement, though you feel that the man wouldn't hesitate attacking you if the woman didn't give the order. You pant and raise your hand up to your lips and feel the sting and a pulsing sensation going through your lips. You already feel another set of bruises blossoming all over your body. The woman steps in closer to the ring. "Get down." 

You duck under the rope lines and face the older woman.  She studies your face and dismisses the guard with a wave of his hand. He looks at you briefly with a warning hidden behind his eyes and leaves the training room. 

"Surprisingly you have proven yourself, saviour." She moves her hand up and takes your jaw with a tight grip, tilting your head from side to side. You want to wince in pain but won't show her any weakness coming from you. 

You clench your fists as she leans in closer, still holding your jaw and your freeze momentarily. Santino notices your discomfort at the woman's touch but doesn't move. He knows that if he does so, than he may be facing some kind of consequences. 

The Head of Camorra is the most important organ in this whole family, but some of his decisions depend on the Council's vote. 

The gray haired woman backs away but still holds a strong grip on your jaw. She looks down on you. "You'll spend a year here before we decide if you're worthy." she says in a menacing voice. "If you fail your first task in the name of Camorra, then know that you will never be going back to your world." she releases your jaw with a jerk. Both of you stare at each other. Not going back to your world surely means death in this one. You know that she would have been glad to see you die, preferably at her hands. 

The Council departs from the training room, giving you last looks. Some of it of warning, amusement and even concern. You turn back and sit on the edge of the ring releasing a shallow breath. You hear shuffling of feet and feel Santino sitting next to you. 

You look down at your hands, knuckles bruised and bloody. You feel the pain in your ribs as you take a breath and see a drop of blood fall onto your arm. You raise your hand to your busted lip and hiss. You see a blue handkerchief being offered to you and look at Santino, his expression not showing any emotions. 

You take the soft material and dab it carefully on your cut lip. "See?" you hear the Italian speak up next to you. "I knew you would fit in." 

You look to him with raised eyebrow and start to laugh. The sound echoes throughout the gym and Santino joins you, hanging his head down. You haven't laughed in what feels like years and maybe it's true. It's nice to feel that kind of emotion spreading through your body. Your moment of joy is cut as soon as you feel the pain in your ribs and face. Your hand raises up to your ribs and traces it gently. 

Santino offers you to see a doctor but you refuse, already feeling tired and exhausted after the fight. The only thing you want now is to lie down and sleep. Both of you leave the gym in search for your designated bedroom. 

Santino leads you through the white hallway with rich dark flooring. As you walk he tells you briefly where each rooms are placed, his office is on the same floor as hers at the end of it. When you arrive at your bedroom you stop in your tracks behind Santino. He notices your absence by his side and turns to you. 

You look tired and feel like it. The last 24 hours were the most intense in your whole life… well, at least one of the most. 

The Italian looks at you, his green eyes darker in the low light. There's a reassuring look in his eyes. You stare at him and feel the leftover tension from your shoulders disappear completely. He seems to notice that action cause he smirks lightly your way. 

Both of you turn to the door and open them to reveal a big room. The flooring is just as dark as in the hallway, the pearly white interior adds elegance to the place. There's a queen bed settled beneath the wall and in front of it a small fireplace. You notice a door that surely lead to the bathroom. 

You step into the room and look around. Santino watches you from the door with his hands in his pockets. This isn't the place you would have imagined to be, yet here you are.

"The training starts at 7am, you already know where the gym is." Santino's voice comes from the side. His suit has creased during the day but he still holds that attitude that screams power. You look towards him and a question burns at the tip of your tongue. Santino already knows what it is. 

"If you need anything just tell me. It would be a shame to waste someone like you with this much potential." he says with a smirk. 

"That woman would disagree, like many of them in fact." you say back. You're sure that that woman is already having you in her mind as some sort of threat. 

You don't know if Santino will use you to his needs or not, right now it doesn't seem like it. He's been nothing but respectful towards you, but maybe he's just hiding his true colors. You need to become wary of this world, trust only few and always observe. Adapting to it will take time but you're ready to at least try and not waste your time here. Even if it kills you. 

Santino looks at you one last time before closing the door, wishing you goodnight and good luck. You momentarily keep your eyes on the closed door before moving to the bathroom. You look for the first aid kit in the cabinets and luckily find one. You open it, take out some bandages and put them on the counter. The cut on your arm and thigh are not big, but it’s better to take care of them in case there’s some infection. You pour the hydrogen peroxide onto the cuts and hiss in pain. You put on a fresh bandage on it and repeat the process on the arm. You look at your reflection in the mirror and examine the busted lip. It has gone numb but even the slightest touch hurts. 

You exit the bathroom and go over to the bed. You basically sink into it as the soft material embraces you. You lay in it for a few moment, thinking about what the next day may bring. You’re Camorra now… sort of, you still need to prove yourself here. You know the basics of fighting and surviving, you know how to get by. Right now you can just hope for the best. 

You don't remember when you fall asleep, but you dream about the water and a faint deafening sound that carries through the wind. The sound of the bullets from the gun range still ring in your ears. 

You spend a over two years there before everything changes. 

[set-phasers-to-whump]

home

Prompt: water (alt no.12)

Whumpee: Neal Caffrey

Fandom: White Collar

what’s up everyone! welcome to my last fic for whumptober!! i can’t believe i’ve done this for the second year in a row that makes me so so happy!!! i hope that you enjoy this fic :)

The water is cold. So very, very cold. It bites at his skin and grabs at his clothes and makes his muscles nearly seize up with how much they’re shaking. Still, he keeps going, swimming deeper and deeper, his whole body fighting against him. 

Finally, he catches sight of it - the silver wristwatch which their suspect had chucked into the water the second he’d seen Neal and Peter approaching. Clearly, there had been something important on it, because the man had tried desperately to stop Neal from going after it. He hadn’t listened, of course. He’d jumped right over the railing and into the icy water without a second thought. The case was an important one, and they’d been able to turn up virtually no evidence so far. They needed this watch, so he was going to get it.

Neal’s hand closes around the watch at last, and he pushes himself off the ground and up towards the surface of the water, his thoughts of finding the watch replaced by the constant repetition of cold, cold, cold…

His head breaks the surface of the water, and he sucks in a deep breath of fresh air, which stings his throat and makes his eyes water. He coughs, then looks around for Peter, spying him on the riverbank. Neal tries to focus his hearing in Peter’s direction, sensing something is being said, but he can’t hear anything over the chattering of his teeth. 

Slowly, he swims to shore, wishing he could go faster but shivering too hard to do so. Eventually, he staggers out of the cold water and into the just-as-cold air, dropping to his knees and letting the watch fall from his hand. Everything is a constant, suffocating cold, and it hurts in a way he’s never really felt before.

Immediately, though, Peter is there, removing his suit jacket and draping it around Neal’s shoulders, providing the merest bit of warmth. “Why did you do that?” he asks, pulling Neal to his feet and keeping an arm around his shoulders to help him stand. 

“We don’t even know if there’s anything valuable in this watch” he continues, picking up said watch and stuffing it into his pocket.

Neal tries to respond, but he’s far too cold to form a coherent sentence. “Could be…” he gets out, his voice shaking along with the rest of his body.

Peter sighs. Neal leans heavily into his shoulder. “Cold,” he says, as Peter starts walking, pulling Neal along as best as he can.

“I know,” Peter says. “You jumped into a river in the middle of February. What did you expect?”

Neal shrugs, somewhat chagrined. “Know it was s-stupid,” he says, stumbling over the words. He’s never been this cold in his entire life. “Sorry.”

Peter rubs a warm hand down Neal’s back as they continue their slow walk. “I’m not mad, Neal,” he says gently. “But you put yourself in real danger for something that might turn out to be nothing.”

Neal doesn’t respond, partly because he’s still freezing and speaking is not the most pleasant activity at the moment, and partly because he senses a but.

“But I think it was the right idea. I’ll be shocked if we don’t find something of value on this watch. Good work. Maybe don’t do it again.”

Neal can’t help grinning at this, a shaky smile stretching over his face, providing a tiny bit of warmth. “Won’t,” he manages to agree, though he’s pretty sure both he and Peter know he will. 

After several more minutes of walking, during which Neal has grown increasingly colder and quieter, they arrive at the Taurus. Neal fumbles with his door handle for a bit, his trembling hand refusing to hold on to the cold metal. 

Eventually, though, he’s in the car and the heating is on high. Peter has rummaged around in the backseat and come up with a dusty old blanket, which is now draped over Neal, not doing a whole lot in terms of warming him up. But it does make him feel nice. Cared for, even. He pulls the blanket tighter around himself as an especially harsh shiver runs through him, and wonders vaguely where they’re going. 

He looks at Peter, hoping to convey his question without needing to speak. Luckily, Peter can read him, and he says, “we’re going home. We can deal with the watch in the morning, when you’re not freezing to death in my car.”

Home? Neal doesn’t want to go home. June’s out of town for the weekend and he’ll be all alone and still cold and miserable. 

Strangely enough, though, they don’t appear to be going home. In fact, Neal realizes, as Peter makes a turn, they’re going to the Burkes’. 

Home, he thinks, making a realization that he hardly dares to think might be true. Maybe Peter is just dropping by, maybe he’s taking an alternate route, or...he lets himself think it, just for a second: maybe Peter does mean home, his home, but home for Neal too. He nearly cries at the mere thought, and surely would cry, were it not for the fact that his tear ducts feel frozen shut.

“Home?” he brings himself to ask, as Peter pulls to a stop in front of the Burkes’ house. 

“Yeah,” Peter says, looking at him questioningly. “El’s making soup tonight, and there’s a game on. We can have a fire, warm you up. Come on,” he finishes, stepping out of the car and gesturing for Neal to follow.

Despite everything, Neal feels a sudden surge of warmth envelop him. Peter had meant home. He gets out of the car, this time barely fumbling with the door handle at all. 

Not one minute later, El is fussing over him a great deal more than he thinks is necessary. Not that he doesn’t appreciate it, because he does. But El is absolutely relentless, bustling him into a pair of faded old pajamas that are slightly too big on him, grabbing blankets from all over the house and piling them onto the couch for him to pick from, pushing a mug of steaming hot tea into his hands, and generally fretting over him, while Peter tells her the story of their evening and she shakes her head fondly.

“Are you sure you’re feeling warmed up now?” she asks, a few minutes later, as the three of them settle around the dining room table with delicious-smelling bowls of soup. 

Neal gives her a smile and holds up his hands, no longer shaking. He is still a little cold, particularly in his fingers and toes and on top of his head where his still-damp hair is beginning to dry, but mostly, he’s warm, and as dry as he can be, and very, very happy. 

He’s home.

aaagh big huge thanks for reading this!!!!! i am so happy rn, i finished this and my friends are coming in a bit for halloween and my 18th bday is tomorrow and i submit my first college apps tonight and aaa!! very excited very happy i hope that you are having an excellent day!! thanks for reading this fic like i said, and for reading any of my other whumptober fics too!!! this was such a fun month and i had such a great time!!!!!!

[smittenvixen13]

I was tagged by my darling raven, @lenoreofraven 1. Name: Monica 2. Nicknames: Mo, Mon, Moni, MoMo, MonMon, Mojo jojo, Monichinchinchin (chin like cheen), Mojika (moh-he-kah), MoniMoni, Mocha Cappuccino, Mocha, Moka, Devil Pup, Angel Fox, Bae, the list can get even longer. 3. Zodiac: Sagittarius for Greek, Dog for Chinese 4. Favorite musicians or groups: Natewantstobattle, Brendon Urie, and a few others I can’t name off of the top of my head. 5. Favorite Sport Teams: Padres (baseball, don’t watch it but they’re my home team and I’m loyal), Seattle Seahawks (again, don’t watch it really, but they’re a good team and not the Chargers soooo), aaandd that’s it for sports 6. Other blogs: Nope 7. Do you get asks? Once in a while, I really do like em. 8. How many blogs do you follow? I follow 34 blogs 9. Tumblr crushes? Nope, I just have strong affectionate friendship with a few of em. 10. Lucky number? 13 for me, 8 for me and my family. 11. What are you wearing rn? Pjs 12. Dream vacation: I want to be able to visit Europe, the typical cliché, and just…explore. I’ve always felt a pull to Ireland so I’d likely want to head there first, check it out, feel the chilling sea air against my face along the coast, maybe see if I can explore a forest or two. I’ve just always wanted to go. Following Europe, I’d want to go see my mom’s hometown in Mexico and see family there. 13. Dream car: I have a weak spot for Jeeps, so I’d like one of the newer ones, but I’d probably want an old Chevrolet more. 14. Favorite food: I can only do top fives for this and that would be my grandmothers tamales, my grandmothers arroz, buffalo steak, cherries, and green cactus pears/fruit. 15. Drink of choice: Mango Snapple 16. Instruments: not too musically inclined anymore but I could probably relearn how to sing properly, play the harpsicord again, my recorder, and some piano. 17. Languages: English for the main part, but my Spanish is getting slowly better, and my Italian is extremely weak but I still have moments where I confuse Italian and Spanish words. 18. Celebrity crush: Tom Holland, Tom Hiddleston, Sebastian Stan, and a few others that I can’t think of. I usually have a wide array because, hey, it’s not like I have a chance with any of em and they’re attractive as all hell. 19. Random fact (about me) : I can understand grunts and hand/eye/head movements; my dad was in the Marine Corps for 8 years of my childhood and I learned to understand silent communication between my father and I, and to grunt back at him as a weird form of communication. When I was younger, this was especially helpful while we were in malls. My sister and I would want to be off on our own and my dad would let us get a good distance so we had enough space between us and him. One time we were in the mall, and it was me and my cousins and my sis, I knew where my dad was and he looked to me and essentially went “look, 2nd floor, followed you, 4 of them, I’ll watch them”. It was a group of 4 teenaged boys interested in my cousins and her friends and my sis, so I nodded, having spot them, and told my group about the update; my dad kinda called em out on it, and only 1 guy had the balls to step back up to the railing and give us a wave instead of chickening out and darting away at the sign of my dad. While out with my mom and my maternal grandma, my dad and I act as pseudo bodyguards for them, silently communicating across aisles if we have an eye on our ‘assigned person’ (my grandma has no rhyme or reason in her shopping, so usually I’m with mom and dad’s with her). It’s kinda weird, but very helpful. 20. Favorite ecosystem: That of the Pacific Northwest. I never realized how much I did until I went as far north in California as you can go, and I wanted to have COLDER! I want to be surrounded by trees taller than I’ve ever seen, I want misty or heavy rains, I want cloudy skies, I want to feel surrounded in a cool chill that makes me want to start a fire in a fireplace. 21. Favorite cat species: any who is willing to love me. I’ll tag @asktheirelandtwins and whoever else wants to do it

[pinkykitten]

The best date ever

DC

Arthur Curry x female! reader

Warning: curse words

Specifics: fluff, romance, comedy, one-shot, pictures, gifs, race-neutral reader

People: arthur curry, you, diana prince 

Words: 2,620

Requested: By @divaanya Hi!!! So about that sequel to The Old Man's Tale.. 😍😂 I'm not sure if you wanted specifics here or in submissions, so I'll put them here... I was thinking simply about them having that dinner, maybe Arthur picking her up in the morning, showing her around the town, then them eating and talking about her drawings and just fluff...😍😍😍 And I'd love to read anyting you feel like writing about them... And any other aquaman fics you come up with!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Authors Note: srry fam for not posting in a while, ive just been rlly stressed out lately with some personal things like my plate is so full. so pls fam be patient i am still writing just at a slow pace, i need to find a good time to write so im still working that out rn. i hope u guys like this, again srry my peeps! <3<3<3

“Oh my god,” you shouted as you quickly rose up from your slumber, remembering today was the day. “Crap! I have that date with,” you sigh. “My sexy hunk of a hero.”

At the speed of light you got ready, making sure you looked beautiful and glamorous for this date. 

“Perfect,” you chuckled as you looked at yourself in the mirror, posing and modeling to yourself. 

All of a sudden you heard a car’s horn beep from outside. You grabbed your things such as your sketchbook, your phone, the same things Arthur had saved. You open the door and there is standing Arthur with a bouquet of flowers. 

“I found these and thought ‘hey they are beautiful’, and then I thought for a while ‘who could I give this to,’ and then I thought of you.” Arthur grinned from ear to ear, his personality seemed to beam and make the world a better place. 

“Awww these are for me? Arthur they are extremely beautiful,” you stand on your tippy toes and give him a peck on his cheek. “Thank you! Let me find a vase for these.”

While you are putting the flowers away, Arthur stares at you from afar. You are truly a beauty. He can’t help but linger longer in looking at your curves, your body. The way the dress hugged you tightly, the curve of your butt. Your legs that to him looked better than even Diana Prince. The way you moved yourself about made Arthur like you more, made him want to understand you and get to know you more. 

“You look really, really, really, pretty today y/n.” 

You turn around, bashful and place the vase on a nearby table, “oh stop you! But thank you, you always look handsome yourself Curry. Whelp are you ready to go?”

“Ready as ready can get sweetheart,” Arthur opened the door for you. “But before we eat, how about I show you the best places around town?”

“I would really like that,” you smile as you take Arthur’s hand that he offered you and go to his car.

As Arthur’s driving a sweet melody of a tune is playing on the radio, making the morning relaxing. 

“I can’t wait to see where you live! All the stuff you do daily, things that make you happy, stuff like that,” you smile as you wrap your tiny arm around his strong, muscled one. Arthur grins seeing how adorable you are and how interested you look at knowing about his home. 

(ok but i love this gif because his smile is the bomb and the scrunchie is my life; sometimes i ask myself, how r we the same species?)

He gently holds your small hand and laces his thick fingers with yours. You peer up at him and see he is speaking about something the opposite way. Your heart beats vigorously, you are bashful and try to hear what he is talking about but you just stare at your two hands together, his and yours. They looked perfect as one, this meant something right?

“So what do you think, onto another sight?” Arthur asked, now his focus was on you. You fanned yourself and breathed harshly, “ooh is it me or is it extremely hot in here? Wooo, woah, ok, wow.”

“Y/n, its colder than an igloo in here, how in god’s name are you hot?”

“...menopause?”

Arthur chuckled, knowing exactly why you were like this. He knew it was about him holding your hand. He felt the way you tensed up when he did that, it made him for some reason happy. Happy to know that you were nervous around him because then you care about how he sees you, you care about his feelings. 

“You look beautiful by the way sweetheart. You know what I don’t think there has ever been a day for you when you didn’t look beautiful.”

You swatted his way as you chuckled while rolling your eyes, “you’re too much Arthur Curry. Do you flirt with all your girls like this?”

“No...just you.”

Your eyes bugged wide open and you tried to change the subject. “What’s that place over there?”

“Oh that, that’s the ice skating rink. Its been there for like forever, its really fun. It may not look much but that’s where people just enjoy each others company, love birds, kids, teenagers, you name it, they go there.”

“That sounds so nice. Lovebirds you say though?” You raise your brow as your arm rests on the center console of the car. Arthur turns his head from the window to you and his head moves closer to yours. In a sultry, raspy, deep voice he says, “yeah many, many lovebirds go there. They dance around each other and sometimes get to touch.” Arthur comes closer and his lips almost go to yours, but then he stops. He smiles, “that means then we should go!” He gets out of the car so quickly you didn’t have a chance to think about what just happened. 

“What!?!”

One minute you thought you were going to kiss this hunk of a merman and now he’s wanting to go ice skating, and you don’t even know how to ice skate! Then you realized, he was trying to play hard to get. He flirts and tries to kiss you and then he doesn’t! “Well, two can play it that game!” You thought in your head. 

“Okay I should of told you this but Arthur...I can’t skate!” Your holding onto Arthur for dear life as you stand on the ice with the skates on.

“Well lets just practice a little, I’m gonna let go-

“No Arthur don’t you let go I swear if you let go I’m gonna punch you in the balls so hard that you’re gonna wish you were a woman, don’t you let go!”

“And when I let go y/n, lets see if you can skate on your own. Okay 1, 2, 3.” Arthur lets you go and pushes you forward to bring speed to you. You slide forward with a shriek as you can’t stop. As you’re about to fall to your death Arthur comes to the rescue and picks you up with ease. “Man, sweetheart I’ve already saved your life twice. I should get a reward.”

Arthur holds your hand as he practically guides you through on the ice. “Yeah you want to see your reward?” You smack his torso and shoulders but unfortunately with your size compared to his you didn’t really do much damage.

“Ouch what was that for?”

“What was that for? Arthur I nearly almost died...again! You pushed me you hot, idiot, jerk, stupid, guy!” You look straight up into his eyes with an angry face. 

“So you think I’m hot?” Arthur comes closer to you. 

You try to slide back but you trip and that makes Arthur strong hands go to your back, near your butt and bring you closer to his body. “I never said a thing like that.”

Arthur’s handsome face gets closer with yours and his body is touching your body, tightly pressed together. “I think you did, I know you did.”

You look away as you put your hands up. His lips go to your ear, “don’t worry y/n, I think I’m hot as well.”

Your face becomes annoyed as you shove his face away from you and roll your eyes. “Haha, good one.” You say sarcastically as his laughter booms loudly. He laughed so hard he had to wipe a tear. “Was it really that funny Arthur?”

Arthur nods, “oh yeah definitely. You should of seen your face!”

“HAHAHAHAHA WELL YOU SHOULD OF FELT YOUR JUNK, CUZ IT WAS GIVING A STANDING OVATION!” You then laugh really hard at your joke and pretend to wipe a tear. You see Arthur’s face as he gives you a death glare. You chuckle some more as he skates towards you. He wraps his hand in yours and you two skate like normal people do, or how the lovebirds do. 

It was actually really romantic. 

“There you go sweetheart, just like that.” You actually were skating correctly, of course holding for dear life onto Arthur, but still you did it. You were skating smoothly, almost perfectly. 

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m doing it!” You smiled up at Arthur, your smile beaming. This made Arthur happy and his heart pound. He couldn’t focus on anything except you, the way you looked up at him. You looked like a goddess, like his whole life revolved around you. Like you were meant to be his, and he was meant to be yours. 

“Arthur, Arthur, Arthur! We’re gonna crash!”

As soon as you said that you and him crashed into the wall. Before your body could hit the cold, harsh ice, Arthur fell on his back but caught you just in time. 

“Oh my! Arthur are you okay?” You felt yourself being carried and laid, on your stomach, on his chest. His eyes were shut, so you shook him and tried to get him to wake up. “Arthur please wake up! Are you okay?”

You were starting to get worried that he hurt himself badly until he woke up. “Did I scare you?”

You smacked his face a couple of times, “Are you serious? Yes you scared me Arthur! I thought you were hurt. C’mon lets go somewhere to eat because I am starving.”

Arthur got up with your help and placed his hand on your hip as you two walked to the car. “Hey, thanks for worrying about me.” Arthur bent down and kissed your cheek, then he walked to his car leaving you all bashful. 

“I swear this boy,” you muttered.

You two ended up deciding to go to a pizza restaurant. (if u dont like pizza then u r cursed and have sinned because pizza is a gift from god) 

As you walked in the smell was good! It smelled delicious! Your stomach growled at the thought of fresh, hot pizza. 

“Sorry for keeping you waiting. We could of gotten food sooner.” Arthur looked at the menu by the cashier. His arm was wrapped around your shoulder. If no one knew it, it looked as if you two were a couple.

Suddenly Arthur stomach growls. “Well if you were hungry Arthur, we could of gotten some food.”

Arthur puts his hair in a man bun with his light pink scrunchie, you could tell he was embarrassed. “I didn’t want to interrupt you having fun on the ice.”

You stood on your tippy toes and kissed Arthur’s cheek, “thank you, that was really sweet of you.”

After you two bought the pizza, you guys sat at the booth by the window. 

“This looks so good! I’m starving!”

“Well y/n, bon appetit!”

You ate like you haven’t eaten in years, the pizza was so perfect and so delicious in your mouth. The atmosphere was perfect. Jazz music was playing in the background, there were not too many people there but enough to hear talking. It was gloomy looking outside since it was so cold. You took your coat off and placed it next to you. 

“So I saw your sketchbook, what do you draw?” Arthur asked, taking a gigantic bite out of his Hawaiian pizza. 

“Oh pretty much everything. Yeah, I like to draw animals, settings, but mostly people. I mean I love art but sketching and drawing is my passion, it lets me vent as much as possible. I just think about life when I draw. Think about how I want to better my life, how to better me.” You find yourself getting off the discussion. “Sorry, I’m talking too much aren’t I?”

Arthur placed his hand on yours and smiled, “not at all. Please continue.”

“I wanted to get away from my day to day life. Sometimes doing the same thing over and over, day by day can be such a bore and honestly tiresome. That’s why I needed to come here. I wanted to experience a place like never before, and also encourage myself to draw more.”

“Well I’m glad you made that decision to come here, if you hand’t then I would not have met you.”

“Thank you Arthur.”

“Can I see your drawings?”

You started choking on your piece of pizza, “what? You mean like mine, my drawing as in my own, like mine?”

“I’m pretty sure mine means that.”

You chuckled and scratched the back of your head, “I don’t know Arthur, they’re not that good.”

Arthur gave you a wink, “c’mon y/n, I know they’ll look amazing.”

You pull out your sketchbook from your bag and hand it to him. 

“Wow y/n,” was all he said as he was mesmerized, captivated by your art. “You are incredible y/n, just incredible! I’m speechless with how you draw.”

“Thanks, it feels good to have someone important say such great things about them.”

Arthur almost turns to the page you don’t want him to see. “Um don’t see that drawing.”

Arthur raises his brow, “why not?”

“Because it has something personal on there.” You try to grab it but Arthur is too quick and moves it away from you. “Give it back Arthur!”

“Wait! I want to see what it is.” As he says this he turns the page to show a drawing of him. 

You feel hot and so embarrassed. Your hands become so sweaty and your heart pounds. Will he think your drawing is weird or stupid? 

“Y/n, this is so beautiful. I can’t believe you drew me.” Arthur was baffled at your gift. Just from seeing him in a short time you sketched him out like you knew him for many years. You got each curve and each detail of his face and body. 

“I studied your face long and hard when you picked me up. I had to draw out my hero.” 

Arthur’s smile made you fall more in love with him. “I’m sorry if me drawing you was weird. I can just get rid of it when I go back to my cabin.”

“No! Please y/n, don’t. Please don’t get rid of this amazing drawing. Hel* I wish I could draw you, but not even a dam* drawing would show and describe how beautiful you are, not words not art, nothing. You are so frickin gorgeous and sweet y/n, you really are.” Next thing you knew Arthur got up and sat next to you in the booth. Feeling shy you backed away in the booth but this just made Arthur get extremely closer to you. His wild blue eyes were half lidded as he was overpowered with love and lust for you, and to be honest so were you. Arthur came closer and closer to you until his huge body trapped your tiny, fragile one against the wall. “I so wanna kiss you right now,” breathed out Arthur, rubbing delicately your cheek. 

“I wanna kiss you so bad too,” you said in a whisper, looking directly at Arthur’s plump lips. Without no hesitation Arthur’s lips crashed on yours. You two didn’t care who was watching or who was there. This kiss was needed. Arthur’s tongue slipped in your mouth in one swift movement, but just as quick as it went in it went out. He was teasing you! He was showing you what was to come if you two spent the night in a sexual escapade. You two made out a few more seconds until you and him separated to catch your breaths. He leaned his forehead against yours, “boy am I glad you decided to come here for your vacation.”

You chuckled and touched Arthur’s facial hair, “me too Arthur. Me too.”

Tag List: @harrington-lover, @angelgl16, @perfectlybeautifulsuit, @dreamsofwhiteandblack, @hyehoney, @wtfisalltherandoms, @haven-prelude (wont let me tag) , @leasly, @totally-alexa21, @creamy-pasta-boi, @multireese, @fanfictionrecommendations-com, @prentisskelley, @malereaderforkpop (wont let me tag), @guardian-of-cookies, @justafangirl-97, @teenageshitposts (wont let me tag), @polyglot-t, @dippergravity (wont let me tag), @some-booty, @collectiveyou, @divaanya

wanna be tagged in my crap? comment!