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iamgonnagetyouback-recs · 3 days ago

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SPENCER REID.ᐟ

a little list of my favorite stories ୨ৎ remember to be kind, reblog, and support the wonderful authors who share their magic with us.ᐟ

NOTE ಇ. none of these stories belong to me ♡ if you’d like your fic removed, just send me a message, and i’ll take care of it!

puzzling by @pathologicalreid

⁀➴༯ trying to tell Spencer you're pregnant, but he's too concerned with your well-being to fill out your custom crossword puzzle

REVIEW ୨ৎ omg this??? this is the softest, sweetest thing ever. like. the crossword puzzle reveal???? genius. i loved the idea! spencer being all worried and clueless and then putting it together in the middle of the night like the nerdy genius he is??? perfect. the teasing. the love. the domesticeness (not even a word ugh). i adored it; lost it in a stupid tumblr refresh but so happy i found it again

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be so stupid by @mariasont

⁀➴༯ you make a mistake while on a case nearly getting spencer killed, morgan has some choice words and spencer is ready to beat his ass over it

REVIEW ୨ৎ ohhh this is so good. the way you showed all the feelings she was going through?? the way spencer is just so soft but also ready to throw hands for her?? perfection. i was grinning when he stormed off to confront morgan like yes king defend your girl!! and that last part?? the heartbeat moment?? actually kicking my feet. this was everything. thought about this so many times after reading it

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

sparks fly by @avis-writeshq

⁀➴༯ "drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain."/"kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain." The first time you meet Spencer Reid, you swore that you could feel the sparks fly. You figured that it would be unreasonable to ever consider him to be anything more than a friend, and in a moment of selflessness you tell yourself that you are perfectly fine in that position. As time goes on, the line between romantic and platonic love begins to blur indefinitely. But it would be ridiculous to think that the resident genius would feel anything for you... right?

REVIEW ୨ৎ omg this is literally the best spencer series! avis you broke my heart, healed it, broke it again, healed....so many times. i still remember reading this when i was a ghost reader and just absolutely falling in love with it. i think this is how i found your acc and we became mutuals ♡ but yes, forever one of the series i will find comfort it. it feels like home

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was i stupid to love you? by @incognit0slut

⁀➴༯ in which a lingering glance at rossi’s wedding threatens your engagement

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh this fic changed me. actually ruined my life a little bit. like i finished it and just sat there. staring. hollow inside. do you know what it’s like to have your heart ripped out and handed back to you in pieces??? because i do now. this was beautiful and painful and i will never recover. thanks

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devoted by @gf2bellamy

⁀➴༯ spencer sees you talking to a guy and he's jealous. what he doesn't know is that you're talking about him

REVIEW ୨ৎ this made my heart hurt in the best way. like. the kind of hurt where you just sit there staring at the screen after finishing, trying to process your emotions. the jealousy? the soft, sleepy confessions??? i am unwell. spencer being all worried but then melting when he realizes you were talking about him the whole time???? this fic grabbed me by the heart and did not let go. i need to lie down

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caught by @/gf2bellamy

⁀➴༯ hotch gives you a call to inform you that you have a case and to bring spencer. the problem? you haven't announced your relationship to anyone yet

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh my god. omg. this was going so soft and then suddenly oh shit. like one second it’s all warm and cozy and then bam spencer’s brain turns on and ruins everything. the way they both just freeze when they realize hotch knows??? yeah. i laughed. and spencer just casually calculating the exact time they can be late without dying??? he’s insane i love him. this was so cute i’m kicking my feet but also stressed. perfect

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

mistake by @/gf2bellamy

⁀➴༯ spencer overhears you and derek talking and he misunderstands your conversation, causing him to distance himself from you

REVIEW ୨ৎ this hurt so bad. like spencer just pulling away and you not knowing why??? and then when he finally realizes he was wrong??? the angst. the ache. i wanted to shake him and hug him at the same time. 10/10 i am in pain

lucky by @reidmarieprentiss

⁀➴༯ you encourage penelope to go on a date, which ends in tragedy. this event shakes the team, leading to conflict, particularly between you and spencer, who blames her for what happened

REVIEW ୨ৎ this fic ruined me. like actually left me gasping for air, clutching my blanket, tears streaming down my face. i went in thinking i was just gonna read a little angst, maybe feel a little sad—but no no no. this was emotional devastation. the kind that settles in your chest and refuses to leave. the writing?? too good. the pain?? unbearable. i had to put my phone down multiple times just to remind myself they're gonna be happy at the end. and the worst part?? i’d read it again. immediately. because apparently, i like to suffer

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

not her by @/reidmarieprentiss

⁀➴༯ you can't figure out why spencer doesn't like you, spencer doesn't know how to tell you it's not your fault

REVIEW ୨ৎ this fic tortured me so much. like i was just begging them to talk to each other. the misunderstandings?? unbearable. and then the forced proximity??? thanks to rossi for that—but i was suffering in real time. the slow, aching realization that they it's not her fault but your stupid sister's??? i actually think i forgot to breathe at one point. i yearn for this kind of angst only

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

lost & found by @/reidmarieprentiss

⁀➴༯ you suffer memory loss after an accident, only remembering your sister, emily, and not your boyfriend, spencer

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh. oh this hurt. like actually physically hurt. but then also like healed me. the way spencer was right there and you didn’t remember him??? and emily being the only one you remembered??? yeah i was gone and came back to life and god said it was the best thing ever. and then slowly falling in love with him again, piece by piece, like your heart already knew him even if your mind didn’t?? yeah. i’m crying. actually sobbing. this rewired my brain chemistry

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

emergency contact by @vanteguccir

⁀➴༯ where y/n is between life and death during a case, and the team needs to call her emergency contact, but she doesn't have one. not until now

REVIEW ୨ৎ oh this one hurt. like actually physically hurt. the moment they realized she didn’t have an emergency contact?? and spencer just knew he had to be the one?? yeah. that ruined me. but omg the confessions and the fluffiness at the end??? i need to go stare at a wall

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ୨ৎㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

misunderstanding by @luveline

⁀➴༯ bombshell reader and spencer where there is a misunderstanding and she thinks he is cheating on her

REVIEW ୨ৎ this, jade??? this was so much. like. the panic. the way hotch is just there exactly how a friend should be. spencer being all clueless and sweet and making it so obvious he’d never do that to her??? devastating in the best way. the hug. the reassurance. the later because spencer gets it??? he understands that she needs time. yeah. this one is staying with me

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selfish by @appocalipse

⁀➴༯ someone sends you flowers at work. spencer hates it more than he likes to admit

REVIEW ୨ৎ this was absolutely beautiful, amy, oh my god. the tension, the unspoken feelings, the way they both know but dance around it—ugh, perfection. spencer knowing her favorite flowers?? the selfish line?? my heart physically ached. and that kiss?? so soft, i could cry. i’m in love with this

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤmain blog ￫ @iamgonnagetyouback

#‎♡‧₊˚ ivy's fic recs ₊˚୨ৎ #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #dr reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fic recs

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mychemicalweevil · 1 day ago

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Absolutely no one was waiting for this but here’s my unofficial ranking of TLT characters based on how much they’d like pickles:

1. Gideon

I know they didn’t have food with flavor on the Ninth but the vibes are overtaking me. Gideon loves pickles. She’s drinking pickle juice straight from the jar before a workout to avoid cramping. She’s eating Harrow’s dill pickle off her plate because Harrow can’t even handle touching it. I know this in my heart to be true.

2. Dulcinea

Do all chronically ill people love pickles or is that just my specific crowd? Either way I think she’d love a really sour pickle and would eat them straight out of the jar on the regular.

3. Jeannemary

I don’t know what kind of food they have on the Fourth but this kid would be so happy to eat a pickle. (nooooo Magnus don’t tell them they forgot the extra pickles on my sandwich)

4. Magnus

The aforementioned Magnus. He’s pro-pickle but not a freak about it. He’d grill hot dogs for the Fourth kids and put relish on them.

5. Ianthe

She likes gherkins and she likes eating them suggestively. Sorry to any gherkin lovers out there…

6. Camilla

Make no mistake, she can deal with a pickle, but I feel like she’d rather not. She makes fun of Gideon drinking pickle juice before a workout.

7. Palamedes

He doesn’t like the texture. I am confident that in a present day setting he’d eat terribly, just whatever he can get down quickly that has enough nutrients to keep him going. He doesn’t understand the true value of pickles.

8. Coronabeth

If there’s a pickle on her plate she’s making Babs send it back. I don’t even know if she’d hate pickles at all if she tried them but she’s convinced herself she does.

9. Harrow

You know those videos of babies trying a lemon for the first time and it’s kind of funny but also sad because they had no idea what was coming? That’s Harrow trying a pickle.

#wish I was eating a pickle right now #the locked tomb #tlt #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #nona the ninth

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emeraldlusts · 2 days ago

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Obsessed - A Kylian Mbappé oneshot

Warning : smut, minors DNI, 18+ only Note : may contain spelling and translating mistakes

“I don’t understand,” Kylian sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Have I done something ?”

“There’s nothing to understand,baby, and it has nothing to do with you. I just don’t feel too good about myself today. It’s alright, I’ll snap out of it.”

Of course he didn’t understand. He was Kylian.

Strong, confident, unwavering, Kylian.

Admired, worshipped, loved by millions, Kylian.

How could he ever understand what it felt like to have a low self-esteem day. Being with him was one of the best things that had ever happened to you, but sometimes, just sometimes, it also felt a little too heavy.

He was that perfect being that never seemed to have any problem with himself. And whenever he had, he just seemed to thrive on finding solutions and tactics to make them go away. You couldn’t help but somehow compare yourself to him, and on those days, your differences in personality made you feel dizzy. You couldn’t quite comprehend why he hadn’t chosen someone as vibrant and confident as him, someone whose aura shone as bright as his own.

“I don’t want you to snap out of it, I want you to explain it to me. Make me understand,” he gently replied, his hand grabbing yours before pulling you down gently onto him on the couch.

You felt your heart tightened in your chest as you tried to think of a way to make him understand. You didn’t want him to take any of it personally and you also didn’t want to sound like a baby.

“It’s just sometimes I get overwhelmed by your world… By you. You know ? Like who you are, the people you know, the millions of people who know you and sometimes, I kind of feel like a fraud. Because I’m just like any of the other girls who lusts over you and who would kill to even just get a picture with you. Yet here I am,” you put a hand on his thigh as if to accentuate your point. “Everything is so big and I feel so small compared to all that.”

“I make you feel small ?” he immediately reacted, his eyes widening a little.

“No, no, no ! Absolutely not what I said,” you replied in a chuckle. “I’m just very normal and you’re anything but that.”

He wrapped both arms around your body and brought you to his chest as he seemed to be thinking about your words for a minute. His fingers were tracing random patterns over your shirt, which made you relax and soften a little. Or maybe it was the fact that your face was now buried into his neck and all you could smell was the heady combination of his skin and his cologne.

“Has it ever occurred to you that I wish I could offer you a simpler life ?”

“No… ?” you replied after thinking about it for a few seconds. It truly hadn’t because it didn’t make sense to you.

“Well, I do. All the time.”

You tried to pull away from him a little to take a look at his face and try to make some sense of what he was saying, but he only tightened his grip, prolonging the hug.

“I’m well aware of what being with me means. The extra precautions we have to take before doing anything, before going anywhere, before even planning anything. I’m painfully aware of the fact that by accepting to be my girlfriend, you gave up on most of the things that actually make a relationship- and life, enjoyable : going out on dates every week, enjoying peaceful holidays, having dinners with friends out on terraces during summer… And most importantly, not having to actually think about any of that, and letting things happen spontaneously...” You felt his chest rise as he took a deep breath. “I chose this life. I’ve always wanted to be a successful footballer and the life I have right now is a direct consequence of me fulfilling my dream. But you didn’t. And I’m sorry you have to bear those consequences too.”

You were now gently pushing against his chest to force him to release you so that you could look at him properly.

“Are you out of your mind ?” you let out in a breathe, not believing what you were hearing. “Kylian, I wouldn’t even have dared to dream about the life you’ve offered me. It’s not perfect for sure, but no life ever is. But the places we’ve been, the experiences we’ve had… I don’t care for a second that we’ve had to consider whether there would be paps or not. It’s way more than I could ever have asked for.” You were speaking rapidly, needing him to understand just how grateful you were for all of it. “But most importantly : you. Just being with you, getting to share your life, whatever that means… It’s worth it ‘cause it’s you !”

A small smile had formed on his face at your words and he slowly leaned in before placing his lips on yours in a tender kiss.

“I get it, but then why can’t you accept that I feel the same ? That I don’t want anything else but you ?”

“I don’t know… Again, because I’m normal. And I guess you could have something a lot more exciting,” you replied, your eyes lowering as your voice died in your throat.

“More exciting ?” he repeated, tilting your head back up to meet his eyes with one finger under your chin. “How could I ever find anything more exciting ?”

You searched his eyes for any trace of amusement, because the answer seemed evident to you, and you were wondering if he was making fun of you.

“Do I have to explain it to you ?” he said, his voice a little lower now, “just how obsessed I am with you ?” he clarified at your questioning look.

“Kylian,” you started, not sure what it was exactly that you wanted to say. Both his hands were now on your hips as you straddled his thighs and you felt his fingers gently dig into your skin.

The tension that was nonexistent only a few minutes ago seemed to grow stronger with every passing second now. Kylian was searching your face as a plan started to form in his head. He couldn’t believe you were feeling that way, and even though you had started by telling him that it had nothing to do with him, he understood that he had failed to show you the depth of his adoration for you.

He delicately grabbed your face and pressed his lips down on yours once more. He gave you a few seconds to respond before deepening it, trying to pour all of his passion in that kiss. He needed you to understand, it was now his mission.

Before you could comprehend what was happening, he had risen from the sofa, taking you with him in his arms. He started walking through the house, then up the stairs and into the bedroom, his strides long and steady, as if you weighed nothing.

“I’m obsessed with the way your body feels against mine,” he started, his lips leaving yours just long enough to murmur that phrase before kissing you again.

“Oh god, you don’t hav-” you started to protest but he pulled away and shook his head before interrupting you.

“I love the way you instantly relax when I wrap my arms around you ; you have no idea what it does to me… Sometimes when we’re out in public and I see you tense up at something, paps, fans, whatever… It takes everything in me not to pull you into a hug just to feel all of you relax the way you just did earlier.”

While he was talking, he put you down on the center of the bed, making sure the pillows were right under your head as he hovered over you, resting on his forearms on both sides of your face.

“I can’t get enough of the way you throw your head back when you laugh, a genuine laugh. You also scrunch up your nose a little and sometimes I find it adorable,” he kissed the tip of your nose as he said that before you noticed his eyes darken a little. “But most times all I can think about is how soft your neck feels against my lips when I kiss you there. And the effect it has on you. Every time.”

He slowly and very deliberately brushed his lips down your jaw, before reaching your neck and kissing the spot right under your ear, his tongue darting out to before nipping at the skin with his teeth.

A sigh immediately left your lips as you tilted your head back, your eyes closing shut as you gave him more access.

“Exactly like that,” he hummed appreciatively as he continued his sweet, sweet assault on your neck. “Can I try something ?” he murmured against your skin.

“Hmm ?” you replied, already lost in him, the things he did to you.

He barely detached himself from you as he reached toward his bedside table to retrieve his sleeping mask.

“I want you to focus only on my voice and my touch,” he explained as he waited for your approval. You hesitated for a second, not knowing what he had in mind, but curiosity got the best of you and you gave him the little nod he was waiting for.

He slipped the mask over your eyes and secured it behind your head before gently pressing his lips down on yours again. Your left hand immediately reached for his arm, needing to touch him to anchor you into the room. The darkness felt foreign but you trusted him with your life and you knew that whatever he had in mind, he was going to make you feel good. More than that, he was probably going to leave you breathless, panting, unable to recover for a little while.

“I’m still amazed at the connection we share in the bedroom ; the way you respond to my every touch, my every word. The way you can make me lose my mind with a single stroke as well.” His lips were back on your neck and you could feel the heat between your legs, the fabric of your panties beginning to soak through.

“I need you, Kylian, please,” you moaned, your head now fully tiled back as you arched your back to press yourself against him.

“Now, that’s another thing,” he continued, his arm sliding behind your back to keep you pressed against him. “Your impatience never fails to arouse me,” you could hear the smirk in his voice as he trailed his fingers under your shirt and started caressing your skin, his touch featherlight, making you sigh his name again.

His hand slowly traveled up until it reached your breast, he cupped one boob and proceeded to brush his thumb back and forth over your erect nipple. Your lips were now parted, your breathing shallow as you felt your skin burn with desire under his ministrations.

“Can you feel yourself moving, baby ?” he asked, his lips now back by your ear. “It’s very subtle, but your hips keep bucking up each time I brush against your nipple.” he explained and you had to focus a little but you eventually realized it was true. Your body was moving in rhythm with his touch. “And then when I do this,” he pinched your peak between his thumb and index, making you gasp. Your hips instantly thrusted upward, your core pressing firmly against his bulge, seeking friction. “Gosh, Y/N, I swear that could make me cum right on the spot.”

He kept playing with your breasts for a while, driving you completely crazy until you were a moaning mess under him. You needed him to quit teasing and start touching you where you needed him most. Your panties were completely soaked and your throbbing core needed attention, badly.

“I wish you could see yourself right now,” he groaned, “head back, cheeks flushed, teeth grazing your bottom lip, chest rising rapidly, trying to catch your breath… Actually, one day I’ll make you stand in front of a mirror, and I’ll make you watch yourself as I touch you all over.”

It sounded like a promise and you knew that now that he had put that idea in his head, he would make it happen sooner or later. He was always keen on trying new things in the bedroom, new ways to pleasure the both of you, to take the intensity a step further. You were pretty certain you would end up having a heart attack in his bed one day, unable to take all the pleasure he was giving you.

“You’re not touching me all over right now,” you finally managed to protest

You heard him chuckle and that did it for you. You had had enough and decided right in that instant that you would take matters into your own hands. You slid your fingers down your body and lower stomach before slipping them under the waistband of your panties. You were just about to let your fingers glide between your wet folds when Kylian wrapped his own hand around your wrist and stopped you in your tracks.

“Oh, baby, baby, baby…” he trailed, “I’m fascinated by how often you seem to forget who’s in control in the bedroom.” he admonished teasingly. “I love that you keep defying me, and I think you only do it because you know it’ll only make me more dominant. Nothing makes you moan louder, or makes you come harder than when I take complete control and have you surrender yourself to me.”

He was absolutely right and you hated him for it. You hated that despite the throbbing heat growing between your thighs at this moment, you still secretly wanted him to play with you until you couldn’t take it anymore. And then play some more just to remind you that he could.

“But about what you just did, I think I’d like you to touch yourself for me one day. No blindfold though, I’ll want you to look at me and hold my gaze the whole way through, even as you make yourself come with your fingers, my name falling from your lips.”

“Oh god…” you whined.”Please, I’m sorry, I just- just need you down there,” you confessed.

Kylian decided to take pity on you and gently lifted your shirt up over your head, then discarded you of your shorts and panties, mesmerized by the way you gasped as the cool air of the room hit your aching pussy.

“Turn around, baby ; hands and knees,” he instructed before helping you get settled in your new positions as you still couldn’t see anything.

He parted your ass cheek with both his hands, admiring the view before trailing a single digit down to your dripping entrance.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he spoke, his voice low as if coming directly from his chest. “You, in that position, ready and willing to be taken as I please. You don’t know how many times I’ve touched myself just thinking about you like that. So many different things could happen from there.” With that he slid his finger past your fold and curled it immediately, making you jerk back in pleasure, your back arching a little more.

“Was that what you wanted ?”

“Yes, oh yes, thank you.” you moaned, as you uncontrollably started moving your hips back and forth, fucking yourself on his index finger.

You heard Kylian’s zipper as he decided to free his pulsing erection, the pressure of his pants on it becoming unbearable. He gently teased a second finger at your entrance before letting it slip in, stretching you that little bit more as he could already feel your walls flutter around his digits.

“How could I ever want anything else ?” he murmured to himself as he watched your body move under him. Your back was arched as far as it could go, making your ass lift up in a way he could never get sick off.

He brought his other hand back on your left ass cheek before giving it a stinging slap, making you yelp. Then almost immediately his thumb started tracing circles around your second hole, making you tense instantly. Kylian didn’t miss the way your pussy spammed around his fingers though, as you stopped breathing for a second.

“I love how you’re still holding back just there,” he applied a small pressure on your hole, “even though I can feel what the mere thought of it does to you.”

“Kylian…” you warned in a whisper.

“I won’t ever go there, or anywhere, without your consent. You know that baby.” he reassured as he slipped his arm around your body, and found your clit with his free hand, making you relax instantly. “But one day, when you’re ready to explore that part with me, I promise I will take you places you’ve never been…”

“I can b-barely handle where you’re already taking me,” you moaned as his thumb was now rubbing your clit vigorously. His fingers were still buried deep in your pussy, curling up and hitting the one special spot only he could reach. “So close,” you managed to add, as if he didn’t know already.

Kylian was feeling a warmth spread through his chest at your words. He took immense pride in knowing he could push the boundaries of your pleasure, and even greater pleasure in seeing you completely lost in it, your mind disconnected as all you could do was let your body take over and hope it would be strong enough to handle the shattering orgasm that was about to take over you.

You let out a half-moan, half-scream as the knot in the pit of your stomach finally snapped. Your arms gave in and you let your face fall into the pillow under you as the gigantic wave took you over, making your thighs tremble, your pussy clench almost painfully and your eyes tear up in pure pleasure.

“Kylian,” you rasped out as his fingers kept moving at the same rhythm, determined to draw every last streak of crushing pleasure out of you.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. In that instant all he could think about was how this is what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. Bringing you to orgasm, pushing you over the edge. Over and over.

He pulled his fingers away from your clit as soon as he felt you shudder ; not that he wasn’t into overstimulation, but that would have to be for another day. He kept thrusting his two fingers in and out of your pussy though, stretching you still as he stroked his rock hard cock, spreading the precum over the swollen head.

“I need you so bad, Y/N,” he moaned, waiting for you to catch your breath before placing his tip at your dripping entrance.

“Please,” you replied, pushing your ass back into him to make him know you were ready for him.

Truth was, you were always ready. Or rather, you were always needy for him. Because no matter how hard he could make you cum with his fingers or with his mouth, nothing ever compared to the feeling of his shaft buried deep inside you, stretching you to a point where pleasure and pain couldn’t be dissociated anymore.

He entered you slowly, his hands separating your ass cheeks once more to watch himself disappear into you. You gasped at the sensation, your pussy sensitive from his previous assault.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he let out in a breathe as he pushed his pelvis against your ass, making sure he was as deep as he could go.

He started thrusting in and out, fairly slowly at first, to make sure you could adjust ; then he picked up his pace, chasing his own pleasure as well as yours. He would have come in a minute if he hadn’t been so determined to enjoy this a little while longer.

He slid one arm around your body and found your breast again, teasing your nipples in turn, pinching and twisting, eliciting small whines from you as he felt your pussy clench around him with every touch.

“F-fuck, you’re gonna make me cum,” he groaned. “Face down,” he instructed.

You obeyed immediately, burying your face into the pillows once more and letting your arms rest by the side of your head, fingers digging into the sheets below.

He could go even deeper like that and you could feel every vain, every ridge of his member.

“You close, baby?” he asked as he started playing with your clit again. “Wanna cum with you.”

“I- I don’t think I can,” you stuttered. The pleasure you felt in that moment felt all over the place, not really directed toward an orgasm, but you didn’t know how to explain that to him. You were just too sensitive and it was delicious all over : your pussy, your clit, your nipples…

“Oh, is that so?” he instantly replied, the challenge evident in his voice. His touch on your clit became more insistant as the rythm of his thrusts quickened, quite literally fucking you into the matress. “But baby, do you know what else I’m obsessed with ?” he decided to tease out one last time. You couldn’t answer him at that point and he knew it as well as you did. “The way I can make your body do whatever the hell I want it to do, just by…”

He never finished that sentence. Instead he just showed you what he meant.

He slid his free arm down your torso and up to your neck, before lifting you up so that your back was now pressed against his chest, your back still arched so that he could resume his thrusting. He tightened his grip, restricting your oxygen supply just enough to make you dizzy as he kept pounding into you. His fingers were still playing with your clit and he grazed his teeth on your earlobe before giving his final order.

“Now, come.”

And you crashed onto him, your body shaken to the very core as an orgasm you hadn’t even seen coming traveled through your entire body, from the tip of your toes and up to the very top of your head.

Kylian let out a guttural moan as he stilled inside of you and wrapped both arms around you to keep you from falling over. Your walls were pulsing around his throbbing member and his own orgasm hit him just as hard as yours as your pussy milked him in the most delicious way.

“Y/N..” he let your name fall from his lips before gently sinking his teeth into the tender flesh of your shoulder as he spilled hot white spurts of his cum into you. He was breathless and completely lost in the sensations, as he clinged onto you, almost crushing you into his chest in an attempt to merge your two bodies together and feel as close to you as possible.

Kylian eventually pulled you down with him and onto the bed, wrapping his arm around your waist as he slowly pulled out of you. He placed a soft kiss to your lips and you both laid there for a good ten minutes, too stunned to say anything. None of you quite ready to let the moment go.

“There is nothing ‘normal’ about the way you make me feel,Y/N” he murmured against your hair as he tightened his hold on you and closed his eyes.

He retrieved the sleeping mask you had taken off shortly after your second orgasm and held it up close to your face while a gentle smile appeared on his face.

“So, what did you think about the blindfold ?” he asked, although he already had a pretty good idea of your answer.

“That was quite something,” you shyly replied, pressing your face into his chest. “It just heightened everything somehow.”

“Yeah, you were even more responsive, even more impatient,” Kylian teased.

“Hey!” you protested, “I was just exactly where you wanted me to be, as always.”

“True that,” he admitted.

“Would you ever want to be blindfolded ?” you suddenly asked, raising your head to look at him directly.

“You want to blindfold me ?” he returned the question, cocking his head to the side in surprise. You shrugged, your mind starting to consider the possibilities. “I don’t know, baby, in case I haven’t made that clear today, being able to see your body react and respond is a big turn on for me.”

“Yeah but what if I want to just take care of you ?”

“You’re more than welcome to do that while letting me enjoy the view at the same time.”

“But I think I might be a bit bolder if I know you can’t actually see me,” you tried to persuade him.

“Oh really ? and what would you being bolder entail, exactly ?” he asked, now very curious.

“I guess we’ll never know,” you shrugged again before getting up and quickly walking toward the bathroom, not letting him the opportunity to reply, knowing full well you had just planted a seed in his mind that was only going to grow from then on..

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappé #kylian mbappe one shot #kylian mbappe smut #kylian smut #kylian x reader #kylian one shot #mbappe #mbappe smut #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian #mbappé

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faerie-remuslupinsversion · 3 days ago

Text

Hey so… fuck you jkr

Fuck you for making everyone in your book cis, straight, white, able bodied, English speaking and from England (and if they weren’t they were some kind of stereotype)

This is my personal middle finger to you.

Remus, welsh, trans ftm, gay, disabled, uses a cane, would definitely side with Luigi, definitely only married Tonks cause they both needed someone to support them, fuck you

Sirius, French, definitely got some gender fuckery going on, bi, beats the shit out of nazis/homophobes/transphobes, love of my life, fuck you

Peter, Australian, he doesn’t fucking know or care, he just likes people (sometimes), definitely joins Sirius in his violent conquests, fuck you

James, south Asian, pan, poly, bro just loves fucking everyone, he is incapable of hate (most of the time), would literally only hate you and Voldemort, fuck you

Lily, Scottish, bi, poly, angry as fuck, will whip ur ass for talking badly about any of her friends, she would eviscerate you online, twitter is her playground and she will make you her bitch, fuck you

Marlene, Aussie, lesbian, defo some gender fuckery too, one day she’s all girly pop, next she’s in knee length cargos, crew socks, a wifebeater and uggs, about to whack you over the head with her surfboard, fuck you

Mary, Swahili, bi, trans mtf, my goddess, is just genuinely, kinder, funnier and a better writer than you, omg I just decided Mary keeps these like rlly long diaries just full of stories she’s written, hol up while I write that down, fuck you

Pandora, god knows, she’s just turned up one day, pan, trans mtf (oh I’m not even done yet), speaks in tongues fluently, would defo shit talk you to Sybil, fuck you

Sybil, Czech, bi, ace, trans (she/they) (my knowledge only extends so far on the terms front) would calmly and incredibly gorely tell you how you are going to die, and then watch Barty carry it out, smiling, fuck you

Dorcas, where do we headcanon Dorcas is from? I think she grew up in London but that might just be because I need a token “grew up here” character, would beat you, don’t fight me, fight her, fuck you

Regulus, French, bi, poly, trans ftm, he is babygirl (this is a non gendered term to me) yeah sure he’s fucked up and makes mistakes and shit, he’s remorseful, he makes up for it, but still, he’s babygirl, because if he saw you, Hed spit on your shoes and tell you to turn to love, fuck you

Evan, German, he swears Dora just showed up one day, gay, bored, loml, I cried over him two days ago, he would also beat you up, or maybe just watch Barty do it, fuck you

Barty, English (wow look at that), trans ftm, gay, fucking crazy, I love him, would troll you on twitter, would call you John Rowling and ask how much you like it BITCHHH, fuck you

Is that everyone? It doesn’t feel like everyone. I am missing someone.

OHHHH LOVES OF MY LIFE WAIT

Bellatrix, French, lesbian, crazy bitch, I love her, defo dates Rita, would be a total misandrist except for when guys are useful to her, clung only Molly cause he reminded her of the people she loved (Cissy, Rita, Andy) and would hate you :), loves Peggy by ceechyna, fuck you

Narcissa, french, lesbian, swordfights, reads Sappho, is the fucking best, Queen of lavender marriages, would give you a mildly disgusted look and walk away, we are rather displeased with you

Andromeda, French, straight (whattt???), defo tops tho, don’t know much about her but I’d like to, give me fic recommendations, she seems fucking badass, she would kill you for her little gender fluid baby, fuck you

Rita, English, lesbian (it’s getting funny at this point), trans mtf (I’m shitting myself laughing with all my headcanons written out like this), dyslexic, fight me, that quick quotes quill was there for one reason and one reason only, so she could diss you with the spelling immaculate, fuck you

Alice, German, bi, genuinely a kind person, would get incredibly angry at you if you hurt anyone she likes feeling though, wouldn’t hurt you or anything, just go best red and start crying (tears of anger) while saying mean things about you, then cissy would come over, and then she’d punch you, only if cissy said to though, fuck you

Ted, English (Yorkshire, I just know it), cis het, he does bottom though, fight me, seems genuinely kind, we love to see it, just a nice guy, fuck yeah, still fuck you though

Behold them in all their glory, no particular order or reasons. Just vibes

If I forgot anyone, pls tell me, :))) I don’t want to tag this, it’s gonna be everywhere.

I reached 30 tags so quickly,

Damn

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finelinevogue · 1 day ago

Note

Heyyy! I adore your writing, it's so soft and ahhh just obsessed, I can never get enough! Could I request something with shy!reader (maybe non-bau) and Emily where they had a meet cute and are maybe on their first date? xx

meet cute

OMG AN EMILY REQUEST YEASSS!! hopefully this is sort of what you wanted…?!? 💛💛

pairing - emily prentiss x reader

word count - 2.1k

Why did no one talk about the horrendous anxiety that came with first dates?

Your heart felt like it was beating so hard that it might as well be trying to escape your chest and the rest of your body was so shaky.

Normally when you were anxious you could never really pinpoint why, but this was different. The root of your anxiety was so easy to pinpoint and it was because you were going on a date with the prettiest girl you had ever seen.

Emily Prentiss had come into your life like a page out of a meet-cute novel.

She had mistakenly taken your coffee order for hers, even though it said your name on the side of the cup not hers. As shy as you were, you had not been ready to give up your morning coffee. Turns out confronting someone for taking your coffee can lead to exchanging phone numbers. Then phone numbers can lead to arranging a date.

And that date was today.

<.><.><.>

“Why are you in such a rush?” Morgan asked as he watched Emily clear her desk and pack her bag.

Normally Emily was here well past everyone else. Well… Maybe not Hotch, but definitely later than anyone else on the team.

Tonight was different though.

It was already 5PM and she was stressing that she hadn’t left herself enough time to get ready.

“There’s somewhere I need to be.” Emily answered.

Morgan chuckled because he should have anticipated a cryptic answer from his partner.

“Oh yeah? Where?” Morgan crossed his arms.

Spencer popped up from his desk, “I think I know.”

“Go on then pretty boy.” Morgan said.

“Emily rarely leaves work before 7PM, except today she’s been watching the clock countdown the seconds until she can legally leave work at 5PM. That tells us she has somewhere really important to be. Considering there’s no immediate family involved and we haven’t been invited I would suggest that Emily has a date.”

Emily scoffed, both annoyed and impressed that Spencer had managed to deduce all of that.

“Combine that current look she’s giving us with your theory Reid, I’d say you were right.” Morgan smiled and leaned forwards in his chair. “So…?”

Emily raised her eyebrows at Morgan, silently challenging him.

She didn’t deny anything though. Mainly because she knew she had been caught and there was absolutely no point in lying to a duo of profilers. However, that didn’t mean she needed to divulge in the details of her night.

“You two need to get a life and stop spying in on mine.” Emily said.

“You know that’s not gonna happen.” Morgan argued back, Spencer giving an understanding nod of agreement.

“Worth a shot.” Emily shrugged and left it at that. Not only was she eager to get away from this conversation, but she was also really determined to not screw this date up and so that meant leaving now.

“Details tomorrow, Prentiss.” Morgan shouted as Emily left the room.

<.><.><.>

The nerves had gotten ten times worse.

You had felt confident leaving the house, but now you felt somehow both underdressed and overdressed. You felt like you weren’t really meant to be meeting up with Emily this evening, like this wasn’t something that happened to you.

Maybe you’d made a mistake? Maybe this had all been a dream? Or maybe she thought she had been messaging someone else this whole time?

At least you were meeting in a neutral location, so if anything did go wrong then you could both leave and return to your own homes.

You let your shaky hands reach for your phone to check your messages again.

1 hour ago - From Emily Prentiss:

Looking forward to seeing you tonight : )

30 minutes ago - To Emily Prentiss:

Me too xx

25 minutes ago - To Emily Prentiss:

I am at the restaurant now xx

10 minutes ago - To Emily Prentiss:

It was ‘The Olive Bistro’ that we were meeting at right? x

2 minutes ago - To Emily Prentiss:

Just checking you’re okay?

Then your phone started vibrating and you could see that Emily was calling you.

You took a deep breath before answering.

“It’s okay!” You blurted out before she could say anything.

“Y/N?” Emily answered, her breathing sounding laboured.

“Yes, it’s me.”

“Sorry, it just sounded like you said ‘It’s okay’.”

“No - I-I mean yes. Yes, sorry, it is okay.”

“What’s okay?”

“I’m assuming you’re calling to cancel?” You questioned.

“Not at all. Why would— Will you please stop walking so slow!”

Who was she yelling at?

“Sorry?”

“Y/N, I swear… Wait, have you been standing outside the restaurant this entire time?”

Emily’s question made you stand alert. Surely the only way she would know that is if she could see you right now.

“How do you…” You said, before being cut off by watching Emily walk really fast paced down the street towards you.

Emily must have hung up the phone so you did too, putting it into your coat pocket. Your attention was solely on her now and you didn’t want any distractions.

And gosh was she beautiful.

Emily was wearing dark boot-cut jeans, a high-neck black jumper and black boots. Her hair was styled perfectly around her face and her makeup looked the same as it had the other day.

You suddenly felt very okay about what you’d chosen to wear; similar jeans, also boots but a white shirt instead.

Your hands got more and more shaky as she approached.

“I’m so sorry.” She said as she stood a few feet in front of you. “You must be freezing.”

“I’m okay.” You gave her a nervous smile.

“I swear I’m not normally like this. I even left work early to avoid being late, but Sergio would not let me leave and then the car park… What?” Emily smiled when she saw the look you were giving her.

You shrugged your shoulders, “You still came here, even after a long day at work plus cat troubles?”

“Yes. Of course.” Emily looked wounded that you’d ever consider anything else.

“That’s kind of… romantic.”

Emily stepped closer to you and held out her hand for you to take. Your hand stopped shaking as soon as you held hers. She grounded you and reminded you that you were completely safe with her.

“No, it’s just basic human etiquette.”

“Not to me.” There was a hint of sadness to your tone, which Emily quickly picked up on and wiped away with the softest kiss to your cheek.

“Shall we?”

<.><.><.>

You hadn’t laughed like this in ages. The kind of laughing that left your belly stitch and your jaw ache. The kind of laughing that came from getting along with someone really well, which was interesting considering you’d only known Emily for a couple of weeks.

Dinner had gone really well.

You remembered to go for something that wouldn’t slop everywhere and drink something you knew was safe. Pesto pasta and a limoncello spritz. You had unintentionally impressed Emily with your choices too, which you were counting as a small win.

“Well I’m glad he’s okay.” You laughed.

“Him? Honey, it was me who was under attack.” Emily feigned shock.

“Yes, but he’s a cat. He doesn’t know any better.”

“Wow. Cannot believe you’re taking Sergio’s side over mine.”

You would have fallen for her pouty lips and her sad face if it wasn’t for her hand that held yours across the table. She had reached for your hand after dinner and hadn’t let go since.

It was really nice.

That sounds silly to say that holding a pretty woman’s hand was ‘nice’, but that was the truth. This was new to you and so you were taking everything in moment by moment.

“I’m sorry. How can I make it up to you?” You asked.

“Oh I don’t know.”

“How about…”

“A kiss? You’re so right.” Emily jumped in before you could.

You blushed. She made you so nervous it was ridiculous. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” Emily squeezed your hand.

“Okay.” You said, unsure.

You looked around the busy restaurant and thought about how uncomfortable this room would make you as you tried to have your first kiss.

Emily must have noticed though, because she squeezed your hand again to direct your attention back to her.

“I’m not kissing you here.”

“No?”

“No. It’s not the end of the night yet.” She smiled and your whole body relaxed. You actually felt your body return to the moment with Emily, knowing you could peacefully admire her under the warm restaurant glow for a little longer.

<.><.><.>

The end of the night came quickly.

You stood at your front door and Emily was there with you. She insisted that she came home with you, knowing exactly what kind of creeps are out there late at night.

The night had been so perfect and you could feel yourself becoming slowlh more comfortable with her. She laughed at your jokes, which told you you weren’t making a fool of yourself, and she listened to everything you had to say, which made you feel important. Emily had made you feel special all night.

“I had a good time tonight.” You said, picking out your keys from your coat pocket.

“Me too.” Emily smiled.

“Are we going to see each other again?”

“I hope so. If it wasn’t clear from sharing a lemon dessert with you when I actually hate lemons, then I really like you and I’d love to go on a date with you again.”

“Emily…” You pouted sadly.

“What? Are you upset about the dessert?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed.

“It’s okay.”

“No it’s not, because now when I kiss you all I’m going to think about is how I probably still taste of lemons and you’re going to hate every moment of it.” You frowned.

If you didn’t get your kiss off Emily then it wasn’t literally the end of the world, but it sure would feel like it.

“I don’t mind.”

“But…”

“Y/N, love, I don’t mind.” Emily cut you off firmly. “Okay?”

She took a step towards you, closing the distance, and cupped a hand over your cheek. She hesitantly guided your lips towards hers, ghosting over them to give you the chance to pull away if you wanted.

You closed your eyes as she got close and allowed your other senses to take over.

When Emily kissed you it felt weird.

You’d heard so often you would feel butterflies or fireworks, but in reality it wasn’t anything like that. It just felt natural, like you’d been doing this forever.

You felt right together.

She tasted of lemons so no doubt you did too, but that didn’t stop either of you from kissing each other. She felt so warm against you and you moaned a little in delight at the feeling.

When she pulled away you whined - like, actually whined - from the loss of contact. You watched Emily laugh as you opened your eyes again.

“We have time.” She said softly.

“Yeah, but… we have time now.” You said, trying to initiate another kiss.

“Where’s Little Miss Shy gone from earlier, huh?” She teased.

“You’re mean.”

“And you’re impatient.”

“This is unfair.”

“But it’s the end of the night.”

“Does it have to be?” You whined, probably sounding a lot more desperate than you were hearing.

“Yes,” Emily laughed, pinching your cheek, “C’mon.”

Emily walked you right in front of your door and motioned for you to open it with your key.

You had this intrusive thought that you could just kidnap her and keep her inside your house all night, just to spend more time with her but even that seemed a bit far-fetched.

Right?

You opened the door and stepped inside, leaving Emily standing on your doorstep.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me.” You said.

The way you were acting all clingy would no doubt cause you to have an anxiety attack as soon as you shut the door, because you had only been on one date and were already acting like you loved her.

No doubt it wouldn’t be hard or long before you did love her, but after one date seemed a little unreasonable.

Emily might even be thinking that you were coming on a bit too strong and this could be it…

“For today.”

“So unfair.” You muttered to yourself.

“Y/N.” Emily said, causing you to look at her seriously.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you, for tonight.”

“Of course. I enjoyed spending time with you. Just don’t make me wait too long before the next one.”

#emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss fic rec #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss fanfic

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peachyparkerr · 2 days ago

Text

spring into summer | art donaldson x female! reader

or loving art even if it hurts <3

based off the song by lizzy mcalpine!

tags: yearning, fluff, angst, no use of y/n, stanford!art to atlanta!art, love "triangle", kissing and stuff, maybe not 100% true to the lyrics might even be out of order, hopefully this is not too long and not too many mistakes lol i dont want to proofread, i made my own challengers timeline because i can, challengers will always be on the mind <3

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ a/n i hope you enjoy <3 plz be kind to me

Spring into summer, and the winter's gone I try to hold on to it, but the current's too strong Somebody finds me in the state I am Love you like I mean it when I know I can't

it’s a rainy day in late february at stanford. it’s cold, the fog’s coming in thick over the trees, and it’s hard not slip on the ground. all outdoor sports practices have been canceled or moved inside, and it’s probably the worst day to not have an umbrella or a rain jacket. art’s team practice had been canceled but he still wanted to work on his serve so he decided to practice at the indoor courts, he needed to blow off steam after being around patrick and tashi so much these days. their relationship is really weighing art down these days, so getting in the practice instead of taking a break seemed like an obvious time killer, he just hadn’t realized it was pouring this much. there was no way he was going to make it all the way to his dorm without being majorly drenched, so he decides to tackle the rain for the shorter walk between the indoor courts and the library and wait it out there. he’s definitely drenched when he enters the building, and it could be worse so he accepts it. the library’s fairly empty but he can’t quite decide where he wants to sit and if he actually wanted to do any studying at all, and then he sees you.

you, who is sitting cross legged in one of the big window nooks, headphones on with a book and laptop in your lap and in front of you but long forgotten as you watch the rain fall. he's seen you around before, but knows nothing about you, but you've always caught his eye. and seeing you right now watching the rain, in your own little world, is making his heart skip a beat more than it usually does when he sees you. suddenly, however much it sucks for him to always be around his best friend and his best friend's girlfriend that he secretly has been pining for all this time doesn't even matter to him. he doesn't even know your name, not yet at least, but he decides that he needs to. his legs are moving on their own accord as he makes his way to sit opposite of you in the nook.

he doesn't say anything at first, doesn't even ask if it's okay to sit there he just does even tho there are many open spots, and after what feels like forever of just looking at you looking out the window, you finally look his way.

"hi" he manages to speak out, voice just barely over a whisper.

"hi." you say back taking off your headphones. you have a bit of a confused look on your face but otherwise friendly. he'd never even heard your voice before but he thinks it's the most wonderful thing he's ever heard.

"i'm--" he goes to introduce himself nervously, but you interrupt him.

"i know who you are, art." you point out all soft and sweet and now he's embarrassed that he doesn't know who you are.

"you do?" he's flushing and running a hand through his wet hair.

"of course i do. we had a class together last semester and this one. you're also on the tennis team, right?" you laugh and say with ease. he's even more embarrassed now that he hasn't realized that he's had class with you this whole time but doesn't know your name, but the fact you're still giving him the time of day is encouragement enough for him to not run away right now.

he asks for your name and you give it to him with a smile and shake his hand. your hand fits perfectly in his, and he thinks your name is like a melody. the conversation that strikes up between the two of you is casual and easy, and you make him laugh in a way he hasn't in awhile. you tease him for not bringing an umbrella on the rainiest day, and he shakes his wet curls in your face like a dog just so he can hear your laugh again. if he could bottle up the sound and save it forever he would. but you offer to share your umbrella since as it turns out, you don't live that far away from him, and who is he to say no?

you guys huddle under the shared umbrella as you walk through the pouring rain, your hands brushing each other, making him feel all sorts of things. he's been in love with tashi all this time even if she can't be his, but something about your smile and simple kindness has him thinking just maybe he's not doomed at love. maybe he's getting ahead of himself, but as you guys reach his place and he insists on making it up to you for sharing your umbrella, he can't help but think this could be something good. who cares about tashi and patrick anyway?

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

Hold it against me, cool to the touch Nobody knows what it's like to be us Somebody finds me in the shallow end Love you like I mean it just because I can

it starts slow. art can't quite decipher where his feelings for tashi end and where his growing ones for you begin, but he knows that he's drawn to you in a way he's never experienced before. he needed a distraction but thats not just what you are, what you're becoming to him, he thinks.

so he seeks you out more. finds a way to sit next to you in class. shares his notes with you, not that you need notes from him but he offers anyways. notices when you're feeling tired in class so he suggests getting coffee or a bite to eat after. sometimes you say yes, but other times you say no. you know he spends a lot of time with tashi duncan, star tennis player of the whole university, and sure she's dating his best friend, but you've heard the rumors. art's cute, but you don't want to get caught up in whatever that is.

but art's not just cute, he's sweet and effortlessly charming. he somehow just knows when you don't bring a drink to class and has one for you. he seeks you out in the library even though you know he's not really a scholar, and he offers to share his umbrella when its raining, which he always remembers to carry around now, even if its not raining hard, and even if he knows you have your own.

he's spending more time with you than he is with patrick and tashi. they don't really mind, even if part of them wonders what's going on with him. them not really minding has art feeling weird, because part of him still wants them to care, he wants tashi to care. but the rest of him is just glad that he's getting you to give him a chance. when it comes to you, the rest of the world seems to fade away for him.

before you even realize it, you've started to say yes to him every time he asks you to do something. you don't wait for him to seek you out in the library, you ask him to join you. you "forget" your umbrella just so you guys can share his. he takes the opportunities presented to him to shyly keep an arm around you or hold your hand, and when you don't tell him not to, he's never shy again.

the two of you are dating, even if it's not explicitly said. it's june now, and it seems like everything's really good and he's barely even thinking about tashi anymore. you're a welcome distraction but you're also everything and more to him. he wants to make you his, officially, and he's scared out of his mind to put a label on it but nothing would make him happier.

he plans this nice picnic on a rare sunny day. after indulging in some of your favorite snacks, he's laying on his back on the blanket, a baseball cap you got him on his head blocking the sun from his eyes, and you're on your stomach but resting your head on your hands on his chest, and you guys mindlessly talking about something. the sun's shining down on you so perfectly, the wind in your hair. he has no idea what you're saying at this point because he just can't stop looking at you. you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and he longs to be with you even if you weren't with him. he feels so warm inside and out when he's with you.

he moves hair out of your face and he's interrupting whatever you're saying before he even realizes what he's saying.

"do you want to be my girlfriend?" he asks suddenly, still moving hair behind your ear. this wasn't part of the plan he had in mind today but here goes nothing.

"what?" you question with a confused and disbelieving laugh. he realizes what he's asked but he doesn't take it back, just smiles at you.

"i want to be your boyfriend, so i was just wondering if you'd want to be my girlfriend. like officially." he repeats, a little shy, a little nervous, albeit anticipating what you have to say.

"hmm like officially?" you tease, sitting up a bit, but smiling at him nonetheless.

"yea, like officially." he says simply, sitting up too, and gazing at you with that stupid grin he always has when he thinks knows he's getting what he wants.

you answer him by turning the hat on his head that you got him backwards and kissing him, soft and sweet. it's not the first time, but its definitely better than all the other times. he cups your face and kisses you back slow, happily and deeply. you hold a hand over his, your touch making him melt as usual. maybe everything is going to be fine.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

Taking a picture of all the people close to us Head below the surface, almost never certain of the truth (mm) I'm always, forever, runnin' back to you (you, ooh) Runnin' back to you (ooh) Runnin' back to you

you had become a plus one to art's place in his little trio. he had made it a point to include you whenever it felt like it was something he thought would be good. patrick was kind to you and was always willing to spill art's secrets to you. tashi talked to you, was friendly enough, but it's not like you were friends outside of this. you didn't have anything in common outside of your boyfriends. you didn't need her approval, but sometimes it felt like art did. you didn't want to question it, at least not out loud. it was just weird when you would go to his matches and after talking to you he'd ask her what she thought. maybe it's 'cause you're not a tennis player. that had to be the only reason. right?

but he was glad to have you come anyways. when you'd join for hangouts he he always said he played better when you were there. with you, he could hold his head high on and off the court. he wasn't always sure of himself in life or when playing tennis, but if he was almost certain of one thing it was that his heart beat for you. he kissed you like you were the oxygen filling his lungs before every match, always running to wrap you up in his arms as soon as it was over, win or lose. he always assured you you were his good luck charm, his best girl, the most important thing to him besides tennis. and you believed him. even when sometimes it felt weird to take pictures of just him and patrick and tashi when celebrating a win. they were important to him, you understood that, you just wanted to feel important too.

patrick and tashi weren't perfect individuals or a perfect pair but they fit. when he was away you didn't think it was that weird for art and tashi to get lunch just the two of them. art would relay to you that patrick and her sometimes fought, mostly about tennis, but other stupid stuff, and lunch was just a way for him to check in on her for his best friend since he couldn't be around. it was the truth. at least what he believed it was.

but when her injury happened, and patrick and her broke up, patrick's presence in art's life disappeared too. art wouldn't explain so you didn't want to pry more. you and art were still together, but this pit in your stomach started to form the more he was there for her during this tough time. he started being late or missing plans with you because he wanted to help her get back on the court or she didn't want to go to her physical therapy but obviously needed to so he'd take her to make sure she went.

one day, you and him were sat in your room. him on your bed, you leaning against your desk, keeping a distance from him. he wanted to reach out to you and pull you into his arms, make it all go away and show you that you were the one he wanted, but he knew he'd been messing up. you guys were supposed to do stuff today, but that didn't happen because he was with her.

"she had a rough day. i just wanted to be there for her." he said, defending himself after missing yet another hangout with you. he did feel guilty. he loved you. more than he could really put into words, but this felt like something he needed to do for her.

"i get that, i was just really looking forward to our plans. and you didn't call so i was just waiting around." you explained. you weren't mad, just disappointed, again.

"i promise we can go tomorrow. just you and me, i'll make it up to you." he pleaded, standing up and grabbing your hands. "i'm sorry. it won't happen again." he rested his forehead against yours, urging you to look at him. he believed in what he was saying. he knew he was pushing you away unintentionally, and he hated it, he just didn't know how to fix it sometimes. he just hoped it would work itself out and he didn't have to lose you. after all, he always came back to you at the end of the day.

"okay, tomorrow then." you sigh out softly, squeezing your eyes shut and squeezing his hands in yours three times as if to say the three words that seem impossible to say these days. he brings your hands to his mouth to adorn each individual knuckle with a kiss, before he presses a lingering one your forehead and hugs you, trying to make it all better.

and the next day, he follows through with his promise. but something has shifted. you both can't quite put your fingers on it, but it's there hanging over your heads.

he doesn't miss any more hangouts, but the amount of hangouts that get planned decrease. it's clear that tashi's not going to play tennis again. and she probably does need someone to lean on, more than she'd like to admit. sometimes she's seeking him out, but more often than not she doesn't have to because he's going to her anyway. you can't even hate her because it's not even her fault. it's not her fault that your boyfriend would do anything for her, the way he's supposed to do for you. the way he used to.

he loves you, and you love him, but it doesn't mean love is enough. not when this is happening. he'd never break up with you first, so you have to rip off the bandage.

it's february again and its raining out when you meet him outside his room. he doesn't exactly know why you asked to come here, or why you won't come in despite how wet you guys are becoming, but he has a feeling that it's not good.

"it's over, art." you say simply to him. his heart sinks in his chest, and he feels like he's going to throw up.

"why?" he asks, even if he knows the answer. he's getting drenched by the rain, the clothes he's wearing and the hat you got him sitting on his head probably getting ruined, but at least maybe the rain will conceal how he's about to cry.

"I just...can't anymore." you sound defeated and sad. he hates everything about this. he knows he's hurt you, but he doesn't know how to fight for you either.

"i'm sorry." that is all he can say, resisting every urge to pull you close and make this right.

"me too." you sigh out before leaving.

everything about this sucks. he knows a lot of it is his own fault. but he just can't do anything about it. so he goes back inside.

by june, him and tashi are already officially dating. he wishes she was you sometimes, often wonders how you're doing. but he doesn't reach out. he wanted to be the one to tell you that him and tashi were dating, he felt guilty about it and for some reason couldn't stand the idea of letting you find out through the grapevine. but he also knows you probably wouldn't want to hear from him anyway. so he doesn't.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

You're always gonna be someone that I want (oh) We have too many years between us If I could jump into the past, I'd only change one thing I'd never hurt you first, I'd never let you leave And now I'm here forever, runnin' back to you Always

two springs and summers had passed since the spring that you broke up with art. yet there's parts of him that are still holding onto the year you spent together, to the first spring he laid eyes on you in the library. him and tashi have been together for almost all this time. she never was able to play tennis again like she used to, but she'd become more than his girlfriend, now she was his coach. she shaped him into the player he needed to be to win the high profile titles he now holds. it wasn't that they weren't happy, the whole tennis community knew them to be a rising power couple, but the dynamic was different than it was with you.

tashi was beautiful, determined, rough around the edges and strategic. everybody knew her and wanted to be lucky enough to catch a glimpse of her light. he'd stood by her in her darkest time and she'd been standing by him at every win. pushing him harder than he'd ever been pushed towards greatness. she knew he needed tennis, especially if he couldn't have you, even if he wouldn't admit it. she wanted the greatness she couldn't have for herself for him and she was grateful to be able to be part of tennis and his life in this way. so sometimes it was easier for her to pretend they could love each other the way they should. the way he loved you and the way she loved tennis and patrick.

which brings him to the atlanta open. spring on this part of the east coast was nice and art was trying to enjoy it even he's still been feeling cold. his grandmother had died a couple months ago, leaving him her engagement ring, telling him to save it for someone special. those two things were weighing on his mind pretty frequently, especially because when you'd heard the news you reached out to him to give your condolences. you didn't have to say anything, but you were always the bigger person. it was one of the few times you and him had spoken over the years since you broke up. every single time fleeting and politer than he knew had earned and god did it make him miss you.

you, him, and tashi weren't at stanford anymore so there was no reason to see each other anymore, but the passing moments of inevitable running into each other on campus were things he looked forward to. but now you're all graduated, he hadn't seen you in person in about two years and ever seeing you again seems like it would never happen. his only choice is to focus on his skill, winning this open and the next, and tashi. he just wasn't sure if tashi was the special person his grandmother was talking about.

he had actually been looking for tashi when he headed down to the hotel lobby. he could've sworn he saw her sitting by a window, across from patrick, but not really wanting to deal with that he turns his attention to the fan that's called his name to ask for his autograph. when he turns back she's gone and he decides to get a drink anyway to wash down the long day he's had. he orders and that's when he now spots you on the other end, suitcase in hand and ordering the same drink he knows you always have.

art doesn't even know how long he's been frozen in place, taking you in, until you notice him too. you smile and before either of you notice you're sitting next to each other at the bar. you're the same, but different, better, even, if that was even possible. he's always thought you were perfect. he knew he loved you for all that you were before, but he's sure now more than ever that he's never stopped.

by pure coincidence, you're passing through on a work trip and are being put up by your company in the very same hotel. the more the two of you talk he doesn't think this is coincidence, he's convinced its fate. that the universe wants the two of you to be together. when some hair falls in front of your face as you laugh, a sound he hadn't realized he's missed so much even if it's been on replay in his mind all this time, he instinctually moves it behind your ear. he's barely realized he's done it until you're looking at him all wide eyed and he pulls his hand back. suddenly you're pretending to be tired, telling him it was great to catch up and to give tashi your best, and trying to leave.

his heart drops to his stomach at the possibility of losing you again and before he can convince himself it's a bad idea, he's begging you to meet him here tomorrow after your conference and after his match.

"i don't know...what about tashi?" you voice your concern and he hates that you're hesitating but he understands.

"i have no right to ask you to do anything for me, but i promise that if you meet me tomorrow i'll figure it out. i just can't let you go like this. not again." he's pleading with you, grabbing your hand. your skin is cool to the touch but he's burning up inside at the chance to be with you again.

you don't know if you can trust him, and you're not sure if you can handle being hurt by him again, but you've always had a soft spot for him, so you agree anyway.

his heart's racing as he returns to his own room. seeing you is something straight out of a movie, and he knows he's making no sense but he'd messed up once and he rather take a risk now then hate himself for the rest of his life. when tashi returns with patrick's cologne on her skin and asking if that was me she caught a glimpse of earlier, her and art both know its over. they'll keep it out of the press and if he'll find another coach if that's what he wants. usually they'd fight each other on this but they know they can't go on like this.

the next day he waits anxiously. watching the clock tick away. it's only ten minutes after the time you agreed to meet and he's scared you're not coming. he's bouncing his leg as a coping mechanism until you're walking in. he's nearly falling out of his seat as he stands up to meet you.

"you came." he stammers out taking you in.

"i wasn't sure if i should." you admit quietly.

he nods and momentarily takes off the baseball cap he's wearing to run a hand through his hair nervously. you know it's the one you gave him in college but you don't point it out.

"i get it. but i'm glad you came."

"so...you wanted to talk?' you ask awkwardly, unsure of how to navigate this. he nods again and suggests walking outside.

it's quiet at first, even as your arms brush each other's as you walk. but he stops suddenly, turning towards you, knowing that if he doesn't say anything now he might never.

"i'm sorry. for everything. " he begins to say, you try to interrupt and tell him it's been a long time but he doesn't let you continue, needing to say this. "i need you to know that i regret everything. that it's over with tashi, that it has been long before today. i had this idea that i needed her and i could still have you and i was wrong. i never needed her and i wasted so much time thinking that when the only person who was ever it for me was you. "

art's words are earnest and the tears in his eyes match the ones in yours.

"i don't hold it against you. i just wish you would've fought for me. for us. all i've ever wanted was for you to see yourself the way i did." you sniffle out. art's always had this sincere side to him, but it's been so long since you've seen it that it's just a lot to process.

"i know and i'm sorry. i'm so goddamn sorry that it took me losing you to understand that i've never wanted anything else than to be yours. " he cries, cupping your face, his thumbs wiping the tears there away.

art realized too late that he should've fought for you. you, who was always so patient and kind and accepting of who he was in and out of tennis. you, who was soft and thoughtful in ways he didn't think he deserved and taught him you can want things and get them without being so hard on yourself. he was the one who was lucky to be in your light, and he couldn't even blame you for leaving. he just wished he hadn't pushed you away, that he wasn't simultaneously an ass and a coward for letting you slip through his fingers. but this is him fighting for you now, and he was praying to a god he wasn't sure he always believed in that this was his chance to make it right.

"if you'll have me, i want to fight for you. i'll spend everyday for the rest of my life fighting for you, proving to you that i want you, that...i love you. i can't lose you again." he's still holding your face in his hands, gazing into your eyes and hoping that you can understand just how much regret he's been holding in, that you'll say something that'll make him stop shaking right now.

you bring a hand to move some hair that is stuck to his face from under the brim of his hat. he leans into the touch as you rest your hand on his own cheek, shivering at how it feels after all this time.

"you're always going to be someone that i want." you say softly.

and that's all it takes for him to surge forward and press his lips to yours. from that point on, he never feels cold again. and by next summer, his grandmother's ring is on your finger.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

Summer is falling, it's a distant dream If I turn around, you're runnin' back to me

a/n i kinda hate this but i needed to write it! plz be kind! likes and reblogs appreciated!

#art donaldson #challengers #mike faist #patrick zweig #art donaldson x reader #josh o'connor #zoewrites<3 #luca guadagnino #challengers 2024 #challengers fic #zendaya #tashi duncan #lizzy mcalpine #spring into summer #challengers movie #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson angst

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wlwsoccerfics · 11 hours ago

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The F*Word(KatieMcCabeXCaitlinFoordXToddlerReader)

Summary: you watch your Mommys Interview with your momma and your Mommy accidentally says the f*Word and you started repeating it.

You sit in your mommas lap. Munching on a piece of Toast. You currently were 1 year & 6 months old.

"Momma! Momma! Mommy!" You happily point to the TV. Dropping your toast in your lap and clapping your hands together.

Your momma was giggling softly. So was your auntie Steph and auntie Kyra who sat next to her.

"yes my little love, that's Mommy!" Your momma said. You all were watching and all of sudden your Mommy dropped the f*Word, quickly apologizing to the Interviewer.

"f*ck!" You yelled out, giggling. Wiggling around in your momma's lap. You obviously had no idea what that meant but just thought it was funny. Your auntie Steph looked just as shocked as your Momma did. While your auntie Kyra tried not to laugh, covering her mouth with her hands.

"No Sweetheart we don't say that! It's a Bad Word! It's why Mommy apologized!" Your momma told you.

"f*ck." You said again. "Mommy Word!" You happily repeated again.

"someone is in trouble!" Kyra replied. With someone she meant your Mommy. Because unlike you both auntie Steph and auntie Kyra knew your momma would give your Mommy a piece of her mind for that one.

"sweetie no. Please don't say that Word. Mommy made a mistake there!" Your momma answered.

"Mommy word." You told your momma that your Mommy said it so you too. At least that's what you tried to tell her.

"Mommy isn't allowed to say it either! It's a Bad Word!" Your momma was praying you would forget about the Word.

"little love, you can't say that! Let's maybe look at Bluey?" Your auntie Steph suggested and put up an episode of Bluey for you. Which you Loved.

You even climbed into Auntie Stephs lap. Right in time for your momma to take a call from your Mommy. She went to walk a few feet away from you and your aunties to talk to your Mommy.

"hey babe!" Your mommy told your momma.

"hey...you know our daughter learned a new word today." Your momma said. Before your mommy could ask what the Word was you yelled again.

"f*ck! Mommy Word!" You let everyone know. Kyra still found it funny and tried not to laugh and Steph just sighed.

"oh..." Your Mommy answered. "you watched my Interview!" She stated.

"we sure did! And now she won't stop saying it!" Your momma answered. Sighing softly.

"i am so sorry Babe! Can i talk to her?" Your Mommy asked.

"yes, let's Facetime real quick!" Your momma told your mommy. Which they did right away.

"Mommy!" You happily said when you saw your Mommy on the Screen of your momma's Phone. Who was currently holding it in front of you.

"hi little love. you know mommy did say a bad word today. And momma told me you keep repeating it. But we don't say that and i apologized for it, sometimes mommies make a mistake too." Your Mommy explained.

"No f*ck?" You asked. Your Mommy cringed when she heard you say that.

"that's right. We don't say that. Okay?" Your Mommy let you know.

"No say no!" You agreed.

"good Girl!" Your momma replied. Smiling softly.

"good, good!" You repeated in excitement. Well that was also a new word and one your moms loved to hear.

Thankfully you didn't say the f*Word anymore and instead for the rest of Camp you keep happily screaming the Word 'good'. Unfortunately you started to use the f*Word again when you became a Teenager.

#woso fic #woso x reader #katie mccabe x reader #caitlinfoord x reader #caitlin foord x katie mccabe x toddler reader #stephcatley x toddler reader #kyra cooney crossxreader

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star-rats-arts · 2 days ago

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butchhamlet · 3 days ago

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Inviting you to go off about Hamlet not dithering for no reason. I agree completely but I love to hear your thoughts always

in my recent dive back through my hamlet tag, i found this post, which makes this answer kind of redundant. but being me i am going to say it anyway. tl;dr: hamlet's Big Mistake* is not delaying; it's doubt; it's his total inability to be certain he's doing the right thing. which i think under the circumstances of "there is a ghost" is pretty reasonable, actually.

*obligatory "trying to apply hamartia/fatal flaws to shakespearean tragic characters is kind of a crapshoot because shakespeare rarely creates a guy with Just One Fatal Flaw" but also, even if you WERE going to assign hamlet a fatal flaw, it should still be doubting and not delaying.

let us remember the circumstances:

>ghost appears, claims to be my dad dropping in from purgatory, tells me to literally murder a man

literally not at all the wrong move to take a second to breathe here. whomst among us is getting this information and immediately going to kill 1. a living breathing human being 2. who is part of our immediate family and probably someone we know very well 3. and who is also THE MONARCH IN CHARGE OF THE STATE WHO HAS CAPITAL PUNISHMENT POWERS. as K @stripedroseandsketchpads said in the linked post, it's very easy for the audience--who in shakespeare's day would have been familiar with revenge tragedy's generic tropes, and who in our era knows that hamlet is a play about killing your evil uncle--to think, "is he fucking stupid? isn't it obvious?" but however knowledgeable about theater hamlet is (very), he's not waking up in the morning with the assumption that he's living Inside Tropes. (i do think he's aware he's in a revenge tragedy by the middle/end of the play, but that's another post for another day.)

point being: jumping straight to murder is a CRAZY ask. even from your shitty ghost dad who you address as king more than dad. plus, if ghosts are real, it does stand to reason that they might be evil/trying to get hamlet to damn his soul, because clearly supernatural and satanic things are not off the table. the ghost might be dad, but it might also be the devil, or maybe even a hallucination caused by a fit of grief. so the first step here is not "murder right away," it's "get some proof more substantial than a Maybe Ghost."

so:

>pretend to be crazy >get some proof

and, okay, fine. the pretending to be crazy is... a decision. based off the amleth story, we can infer the rationale is "keep claudius from realizing i've figured out the murder, because if he knows that, he will kill me." re: the monarch who can KILL PEOPLE WHENEVER HE WANTS because he HAS SOLE POWER. but hamlet, perhaps All That was a little bit much.

nevertheless: hamlet starts being crazy at the top of act two. he sets the mousetrap scheme in motion in the second scene of act two. that's not that much of a delay, dude. that is one (1) scene of arguable "dithering," and he's not doing NOTHING, he's establishing his antic-disposition cover. you could argue that a lot of time has passed, but the timeline of hamlet is so blurry. we do not know that. he's covering his bases, okay?

and then he gets down to business! he has to yap about it first, but he surveils claudius during the play! and THIS is where the problem arises--he doesn't put off investigating; rather, he can't STOP investigating. because no amount of evidence is actually able to convince him to Do It. this isn't procrastination; this is a deep inability to be certain that he's on the right path. and this is a case where certainty matters, because if he's wrong, murder is a mortal sin. and also regicide. people get killed for that. like badly killed

2.2 is hamlet setting up the mousetrap thing. 3.1 (to be or not to be) occurs in the time before the players set their shit up, a delay that is not his fault. 3.2 is the mousetrap. 3.3 is claudius in the church, and then--

>talk to my mom >impulsively and paranoidly murder the royal advisor > > >oh jesus fucking christ i murdered the royal advisor

"hamlet's flaw is inaction" okay. well. i would say manslaughter is an action. in fact it is Such an action that it gets him banished for an entire act of the play. and thus we cannot really call anything after 3.4 a delay, either, because he's not sitting around twiddling his thumbs, he KILLED A MAN AND GOT EXILED TO ENGLAND.

the one place you can argue for hamlet dithering here is 3.3, with claudius in the church. hamlet claims he doesn't do it then because he doesn't want claudius to go to heaven for Died While Praying Virtuously. if you believe him, fine. if you think this is kind of a load of bullshit to cover that he doesn't want to do it--sure, okay. if he doesn't want to do it, it's because he still doesn't feel like he has enough evidence to justify it. the evidence he has--the evidence he thought would make him certain--is claudius freaking out during the play. but let us remember that the murderer in the mousetrap is the player king's NEPHEW. for all hamlet knows, it's actually entirely possible that claudius is freaking out because he thinks this is a threat from hamlet, not a staged callout post.

"but we know claudius killed king hamlet because--" because he says so. in his soliloquy. to the audience. which we can hear because of the structure of theater. which WE can hear. which hamlet CANNOT! and so hamlet has set up this elaborate rube goldberg machine to allow himself to Attain Certainty that he's doing the right thing. and yet no matter what happens, he can't reach that certainty for real.

and he never does, actually. in the last scene of the play, watching his mother die after drinking poison, he'll still demand everyone bar the doors to seek out the treachery--he's still leaving open the possibility that claudius might have nothing to do with this (as if claudius doesn't spend acts 3-5 way past jean ralphio levels of suspicious). and yet hamlet still doesn't seize on the obvious, because no amount of proof can be enough for him, because fundamnetally he doesn't trust himself. he doesn't trust his perception. he doesn't trust his judgment. in the end, he doesn't even kill claudius for killing hamlet senior. he kills claudius because claudius has poisoned HIM (and laertes and gertrude). arguably, he dies without ever being fully certain claudius actually killed his father.

now, we can all come up with our own interpretations of WHY hamlet doesn't trust himself (because nobody else seems to? because everyone thinks he's crazy? because he's worried he might be crazy? because he's religiously conflicted?). i think most of you can guess my answer. but we don't get an explicit why and that's not the point of this post. the point of this post is that however you read it, hamlet's not procrastinating. he is trying, desperately, from a place of intense political and emotional duress, to grasp any amount of empirical evidence before he kills another person with his own hands. and he can't.

anyway! anybody here take the yale-brown scale lately?

#max.txt #asks #wow. the yapper.#i almost went on a tangent about the religious stuff here and how that might add to this but i'm actually #going to share an emma smith excerpt about that at some point #as i don't particularly trust myself (spent sunday school imagining warrior cat amvs)#to give a proper account of christian schisms #hamlet #ocd hamlet #< implicitly. as always

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runningfrom2am · 2 days ago

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valley's blossoms (c.s.)

pairing: pk!coryo x fem!reader (third person limited pov)

wc: 2.3k

tags/warnings: none! just fluff and nonsense... (actually... tw for coryo's internal monologue) (also me attempting to live up to miss collins' example)

requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)

nav / coriolanus snow masterlist

a/n: this started as some kind of character study on him, but evolved into this kind of cute thing? not sure. also i wrote this at 4 am thanks to jetlag so forgive me if there's any mistakes thankssss

The only thing Coriolanus did not absolutely loathe about District Twelve and his extended, impromptu stay there was Lucy Gray. Though, even she was starting to get on his nerves. Just a little bit.

She was so black and white now that cameras weren't monitoring her every move, prompting her to win over the hearts of the Capitol. She wasn't that much different, but he was growing... tired of her. And her songs. And her mockingjays. Oh, especially those particularly grating mockingjays.

At first, he believed the District itself to be beautiful- after he had abandoned his suicidal ideations he had formulated and subsequently tossed away on the long train ride out here, of course. Outside of the barracks and the training grounds the land was actually nice. Serene, even, when he wasn't surrounded by obnoxious voices and the perpetually drunk locals that flooded the streets seemingly all times of the day. Shouldn't they be working? Aren't there mines to tend to?

It was no matter. He loved Lucy Gray, he was sure of it- and once he outgrew this phase of annoyance with her and her overall culture of carelessness and disdain for his people of the Capitol, they would be perfectly happy and he would be content once more.

On a beat he had taken at the behest of a hungover bunk mate the other week, he had spotted a flower stall at the edge of the market. At the time it was untended, empty spare for a small hand painted sign above an empty counter that read "Valley's Blossoms". That had come to the forefront of his mind again when he decided he needed to see Lucy Gray smile at him again, the same way she had when they had first met back home and he had presented her with one of his grandma'am's precious roses. No doubt these flowers would be nothing close to those, but maybe he could find something sufficient enough to elicit the same reaction from his girl.

Today was a Wednesday, but nevertheless it was his day off and he knew just enough about the workings of the District to know that they would need to be open today, even if it would be slow. Few locals could afford the privilege of a day off, but Lucy Gray could and today and Monday's were his allotted days of rest after training in the early mornings. So after picking up flowers, he would make his way to her ever-collapsing shed of a home to deliver them to her and perhaps he could convince her to wander down to the fields and spend the afternoon together there instead of between those Covey-crowded and humid walls.

Even the early afternoon is warm in this region of Panem, which meant he was already almost sweating from the short walk from the base to the main street where the market was located. It was quieter during the day, with most either deep in the cool rocks of the earth or locked up in their houses to avoid the summer's sun. But not, apparently, the girl running the flower stand.

Graceful as he's sure he's ever seen anybody, she's standing on her toes to deposit fresh flowers into small baskets hanging from the top of the sign at her stall. She had what appeared to be an already perfectly arranged bouquet tucked into the front pocket of a small apron, and was pulling each flower out individually to inspect before reuniting it with it's floral peers in the pot above her head.

At the sound of his footsteps crunching over the gravel littering the street, she turns and Coriolanus is met with just about the brightest smile he has ever seen.

"Good morning, Officer." The girl grins, and with a quick assessment he concludes that she must be his age- the freshness of youth in her eyes untouched by the horrors of the world that had come down so hard and fast on him and Lucy Gray. "Or afternoon, I suppose. The day tends to get away from me at times. What can I do for you?"

She doesn't cower at his authority, though that could be chalked up to the lack of the cold grey of his formal uniform and his current attire of blue slacks and a clean white shirt that implies he was off duty. The respect she was serving out, though, still made his chest puff up unintentionally with a fresh wave of pride.

"Flowers." He answers dumbly, shocking even himself with the perceivable lack of intellect he was exuding- suitable of a peacekeeper, not of a man raised behind Capitol walls. "I mean... I just wanted to grab some flowers. Assuming that's what you actually sell here."

She laughs at that, brushing her hands off on her apron as she takes a small step back from the stand to examine it, placing herself next to him nearly shoulder to shoulder. "Well, I believe you're in luck, then. I do so happen to sell flowers here."

Trained by what must be years of working with the public, she doesn't leave it just at that. "Are you looking for something in particular? Colour preference? Species?"

"Roses?" Coriolanus replies hopefully, though he doesn't see any there.

The girl clicks her tongue, slightly shaking her head as she looks over the stand, as if they may magically appear in her stock. "Unfortunately I haven't been able to find any of those growing wild yet this season, but when I do you'll be the first to know."

He huffs out a breath, looking over the flowers she does have anyway.

"They for someone special?" She inquires, deciding not to leave him to browse the small stand in peace.

"Yeah..." He mumbles absentmindedly.

"If you tell me 'bout them, I can make a recommendation, if that would help."

Normally, Coriolanus would be annoyed by such nosiness. However, something about her made him open to indulging the offer. Maybe it was the way she was standing next to him, the straightness of her posture as she held her hands behind her back and looked up at him, head tilted in a way he could only see as an eagerness to be helpful. Yes, she would possibly be making money off him in a less than lucrative business considering the state of their local economy, but she seemed so truly genuine in her intention.

"They're for Lucy Gray Baird." He answers. "Maybe you'd know her?"

"Oh!" She nods, her smile brightening the already glowing street under the sun. "Yes! Well, not personally, but I've seen her 'round. Let's see..."

Gazing down at the flowers in her apron before back at the stand, she tries to work out his best options. "She's got that olivey tone, so we should be a little more picky, but..." She makes her way back around the stand, gathering a small handful of white snowdrop flowers and a couple purple ones that look to him like daisies. "In my opinion, some of these staggers and harebell's would suit her nice. She looks good in purple. She looks good in everything, I think, but purple would compliment her palette and white to brighten never frightens."

This girl had put together the small bouquet in less time it took her to say two sentences, one of which being the corniest rhyme he'd ever heard that somehow endeared him rather than making him cringe, all while organizing them and then holding it up for him to look. It was nice, he did like it, and so would Lucy Gray. Probably. How could anyone not like what she had put together so effortlessly?

"Yeah, I... I think she'd like those." Coriolanus replies, not noticing he's smiling until she relaxes at his approval. That felt good. Her shoulders relaxed subtly, and she set to work wrapping them in a small laced ribbon bow on the counter behind the display.

He found himself wanting to talk to her in the brief moments in which she was focussed on tying up the flowers for him. "So... is that your name?"

"I'm sorry?" She asks in casual confusion as she looks up at him and he nods toward the sign.

"Valley." He clarifies, by now used to weird names of people out here in the unfamiliar District. "You run this stand, is that you?"

She giggles at that, glancing up as if she was seeing it for the first time as well, shaking her head. "No, no..." The girl answers. "That's just... they're flowers from the valley. It's where I pick 'em. It would be a cute name, though."

Coriolanus' cheeks flush at the realization he had just asked probably the stupidest question of all time, but she doesn't make him feel all that embarrassed about it. "Oh, right. That... that seems obvious now." He admits with a chuckle, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"No, you're good." She assures him. "Now that I think about it, it is a little confusing. Especially to newcomers."

"What gave me away?" He's already speaking to this girl more casually and carelessly than he has with Lucy Gray in the entire two months he's been trapped here. What a relief it is.

"The accent." She answers with a shrug, cutting off the ribbon. "But also... most if not all peacekeepers are imports from lower Districts."

"Ah..." Coriolanus nods slowly. "Well, I'm from the Capitol, actually."

"Oh, really? That's fancy." Her accent makes him smile, even if he knows the words should offend him somehow. "Well, welcome out to Twelve, then. It's a pleasure to have you, officer."

The assertion strikes him as odd, used to seeing locals crossing the street to keep a viable distance between his peers and them, but she didn't seem afraid. While he loved the small doses of a power trip he got from that, he liked her polite respect much more. It warmed something deep in his chest, not all that different from the beating sun that she's somehow grasped a beam of in her delicate and calloused palms to shape and redirect just so at his heart.

She holds out the flowers to him now, happily handing them out for him to bring to Lucy Gray with some fabricated claim he had picked them out himself.

"Snow." He tells her unprompted, and she tilts her head as he takes the bouquet. "Private Coriolanus Snow, that's my name."

Understanding settles in her features and she nods. "Of course, Private Snow. My apologies, then."

"No need." He grins, looking down at the flowers she had passed to him, digging into his pocket with his free hand. "How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing." The girl insists, much to his surprise. "Consider them a congratulations gift to Miss Lucy Gray on her win, and for you, a gift as a first-time customer."

Generosity like that was unheard of to him, both here and back home. The practice of selflessness was extinct in the aftermath of the war, of which he was sure this girl was old enough to remember just like him. He wondered if she had lived through that, no doubt been hurt like that the way everyone had, how she could fathom being so kind? Or so respectful to someone who she could tangibly still perceive as the enemy in that long-lingering conflict, being from the Capitol.

"Are you sure..?" He asks, shocked.

She nods. "As sure as the day is long, Private Snow."

"Call me Coryo." He corrects, knowing for sure now that he sounded like an idiot, having told her two different versions of his name in an exchange lasting altogether under five minutes. He just wanted to hear that nickname fall from her lips with the same silkiness in which she had first greeted him.

"Coryo, then." She smiles, tucking her hands behind her back again. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Business.

For her, this was just business. It was a difficult concept for him to choke down, something impossible to believe even conscious of the fact that they are still effectively strangers.

"No, Miss. Thank you." He gives her a curt nod which she acknowledges kindly, gracing him with the privilege of her name in response. It felt like a weapon in his mind and on his tongue as he echoes it back to her, a blade so sharp and sweet as she cut him off from anyone and everything so gently that maybe he would never notice he was ready to throw himself into anything she asked. Or didn't ask, like he had done for Lucy Gray.

"In that case, send my love to Miss Lucy Gray. I'm wishing her a smooth recovery." She says, and the bitter taste in his mouth at the mention of his girl mixes poorly with the feeling of sweet admiration for the girl in front of him instead- who seemed so caring for the recovery of a victor she hardly knew, if at all.

"I will, thank you." Coriolanus says again, giving her a curt nod before tearing his eyes away from her own sparkling ones, and the apron tied around her waist pulling her figure in just right. "I'll see you around, Valley."

As he turned on his heel and walked away, he could hear her light laugh at the inside joke they'd just written into the fabric of their story. He wondered if she knew how perfectly that suited her; that pretty smile accompanied by a symphonic laugh, and flowers spilling out of the large front pocket of that handmade apron that on anyone else would look downright foolish.

He was willing to risk everything again, he thought, but this time, at the lowest point in his life, what more did he possibly have to lose?

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

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ashblooddragons · 3 days ago

Text

Better Me For You

This request was made by an Anon

Summary: When Daemon decided to stay in Pentos he never expected to find live again. He only wanted to make his girls happy. But in the end he figures put how to do both.

Word Count: 5873

Warnings: Daemon being Daemon, pretty much pure fluff, slight angst but only at the beginning, memories of past loved ones, tell me if I missed anything

Driftmark

Daemons pov

I lay in bed staring up at the ceiling thinking of all my mistakes. I mean Seven hells I fucked Rhaenyra on the beach the night of Laena’s funeral. And it was disappointing to say the least.

It wasn't anything like I built it up in my head. It was the exact opposite. Seems having three sons by that giant of a man stretched her more than I thought it would.

I stretch my arms out before resting them behind my head. The sound of waves crashing the shore reminds me where Laena is. That she's gone and all I could think about the night of her funeral was where I could put my cock the quickest.

I truly am a monster of a man. I think with a long sigh.

But just as I decide to turn on my side to let sleep take me does a quiet knock come to my door.

“Kepa, can we stay with you?” I hear the tearful voice of Baela ask.

I climb out of bed and walk towards the door. I hear their sniffles, more than likely a mix of their Mother’s death and the events of tonight. And when I open my door I'm greeted by my two little girls, my whole damn world and they have tear stained cheeks and red rimmed eyes as they cling to each other for dear life.

“Come here.” I say holding my arms open for them. And without a thought they run towards me jumping into my arms.

I start walking towards my bed kicking the door shut before dropping them on the bed and a little giggle falls from both their lips. But that only lasts all but a second before their solem looks return.

I climb into bed, them both curling up beside me as if trying to have some semblance of their life before Laena’s death.

“We want to say sorry to Prince Aemond. But I don't think he'll accept it.” Rhaena says before wiping her runny nose.

“He probably won't, but it will help him in the long run.” I say knowing my girls didn't truly take part in maiming the boy. But they did start the argument and they feel awful that their grief disabled someone even if it was someone they don't know.

“I just wanted a chance to claim Vhagar.” Rhaena sobs and I feel her hot tears against my chest.

I stroke her locks and kiss her brow in hopes of calming the storm that has overtaken her little heart.

Always so sensitive to others emotions, so much like your Mother. I think with a sad smile knowing that it is a blessing and a curse for her.

“I didn't expect Jace to pull the knife. I wanted to stop him, Kepa, I swear, but I was so scared he would turn it on me or Rhaena.” Baela says her own tears rolling down her cherub cheeks.

Always the protector, so much like me. I think as I whisper how it wasn't their fault. That they didnt do anything wrong. But I know they won't care for my words. The guilt is too large and the grief too crushing.

“I want to go home.” I hear Baela say next and I can't help but frown.

“We are home, Westeros is our home.” I say a bit too sternly if their tensed shoulders are any indicator.

“Westeros is your home. We don't know this place, we don't know these people.” Rhaena says and I can't help but agree.

They have never met these people who mourn their Mother, never met these children that try and play with them and be friends. They have no ties here.

And neither do I, not anymore. I think as my choice of my girls future starts to solidify.

“Let me think on it, many people wish for us to stay. I don't wish to anger them, but I also don't want to tear your worlds apart more than the gods already have.”

I feel them nod their heads and within a couple minutes I hear their soft snores fill the room.

Unsurprisingly the next morning my brother wants to talk.

“Have you thought about my proposal?”

I don't respond, only look him up and down taking in his hobbled and run down state.

There is truly nothing they can do, they can only make him comfortable. I think before clearing my throat.

“I have, and I'm afraid I must decline. Though I miss home, I can't destroy my girl's lives more than the gods have.”

He stops almost seeming caught off guard before a smile takes over his face.

“I understand, please do come visit though. Perhaps even let Rhaena find another dragon egg or attempt to claim a beast.”

All I do is nod before turning to look at my girls who to anyone else would seem to be talking to the young Prince Aemond. But I know what they are doing, they are apologizing with every fiber of their being in hopes of at least attempting to right their wrongs.

“Mayhaps a betrothal is in our future. One of your girls with one of my sons?” Viserys suggested playfully nudging me with his elbow.

“The only way I would agree is if one of my girls would be Queen.” I say turning to him and I see the way his eyes shine with understanding.

“The Prince Jace isn't yet betrothed.” He says but I scoff, turning on my heels to watch the waves my late wife used to call home one last time.

I look down at the sea thinking of all the stories Laena told me of her childhood.

"When I was a little girl I loved collecting seashells by the shore. The waves lapping at my feet, the smell of salt filling my lungs, the sound of clanking from my little wicker basket from all the shells I had collected so far. It was my perfect day, I once asked my Father to let me do that for my Nameday. He let me, for a little bit before the feasts took place.” She says her fingers intertwined with mine as her head lays on my chest, wild curls even more rustled from a vigorous lay.

“I was hoping to speak with you Uncle.” I hear Rhaenyra say from behind me. Her voice is set in that sultry whisper and hum that she used last night. I can't help the smirk of amusement that rises to my lips.

It hardly worked last night, it most definitely won't work this morning. I think before schooling my face into cold indifference when she comes to stand next to me.

She stares at me waiting for me to speak, but I won't. I have nothing to say to her, not anymore.

“Laenor will be useless now that his sister is gone. Though he was before that as well.” She starts searching for any reaction but I know she will find none. “I need a husband who will defend me against the Greens. One that will be as fearsome as I.”

I can't help but chuckle and from the smile she gives me I know she thinks I'm laughing at Laenor and not at the thought of her ever being fearsome.

“And what does this have to do with me?” I ask but I already know, Rhaenyra never was good at being discreet whether with her actions or words.

“Let us wed in the tradition of our house. Like Aegon the conqueror and his sister-wives.”

I try to see if there is any jest in her tone but from her stern face I know she is being serious. And I can't help but laugh.

“What? What is so funny?” She demands in that tone she always had had she doesn't get her way.

Gods, she has three sons and yet still acts like a spoiled three year old. No wonder they thought an insult was reason enough to take another eye. I think as I wipe a few stray tears.

“No.” Is all I say and by her bewildered face I can tell she will want more.

“What do you mean no?”

I snicker before facing her fully with an amused grin.

“No, I will not marry you. Because I do not want to. We fucked, Rhaenyra, nothing more nothing less. And if I'm honest, if you didn't throw yourself at me I probably would've just gone to a brothel.”

I watch as her face turns red in fury. The way her hands clenched into fists until her knuckles are white. But I don't stop smirking at her in the most condescending way I can.

“I thought you wanted me.” She hisses out tears rimming her eyes but not from heartache, pain, betrayal, or even sadness. These tears are pure rage.

“I did, key word being did.” I say before saying the words that will bring the nail in the coffin. “I'm going back to Pentos. Don't come and visit, my girls are already afraid of your boys. I don't need your hellions invading the only place they've ever felt safe.”

And with that I walk over to my girls who wait for me in their riding leathers.

“Will Caraxes be able to fit all of us?” Rhaena asks concerned but not because she fears being cramped, but because she worries we will all be too heavy for the beast.

“Yes, just because he isn't as large as Vhagar doesn't mean he can't handle me and two little rug rats for girls.” I say pretending to growl which makes them laugh.

And I can't help the heart ache at hearing it. They haven't let themselves laugh, truly laugh since their Mother passed. So hearing it now, it means all the world.

“Alright, say goodbye to your grandparents. And don't worry they will visit soon, in a moon's turn I believe.” I say eyeing Lord Corlys and my raven haired cousin Rhaenys.

“Yes, and I plan on bringing Meleys, perhaps you can fly with me and your Father. Perhaps a race?”

I watch as their eyes sparkle with pure joy, and a soft, kind, even genuine smile rises to my lips.

Pentos

Your pov

I walk through the market eyeing the produce for dinner tonight. I may be a Lord's daughter but my Mother was low born. She had to cook for herself and she instilled this craft in me from a young age.

“We may have wealth now, but it could all crumble away. And I will not have my little girl be helpless in a world where men thrive off of suffering.” She always says.

I remember the first thing I cooked, or I should say baked. A blueberry pie, I was three Namedays old and all I wanted was a blueberry pie. So my Mother got the ingredients and had me and my Father in the kitchen with her as we baked them. My Father always messed his up, one was burned to the point there was no jam or sauce, and another was so raw the blueberries were still cold. Though he swears he had them in for the same amount of time.

But Mother stood next to me, helping me mix the crust, her hands over mine as she helped push into the dough. She then helped me make the filling. Then we poured the blueberries into a warm post with a bit of lemon juice and water. And once everything was done and baked she pulled it and it was perfect.

I remember thinking it was the best Nameday ever. And ever since we have always baked desserts as a family for my Nameday. And today will be no different, especially since I am now a woman grown. A woman of ten and eight ready to find a husband, is what I know my Father would say.

“May I have a dozen red apples?” I ask the merchant who quickly nods before choosing the best options.

I turn around looking at the other stalls deciding which to go to next.

“I need cinnamon, maple syrup, and lemons.” I whisper to myself when excited chatter catches my attention.

“Come on Rhaena, the sweets are this way!” I see a little girl with wild curls, soft brown skin, and violet eyes say to another girl who has many long and thin braids through her hair, the same skin tone, and instead of violet eyes she has a soft periwinkle almost pink.

“I'm coming Baela! I just want to make sure Kepa can see us.” The other girl I assume is named Rhaena says as she picks up the skirt of her baby pink dress as she runs after her sister.

I can't help but smile at their antics. I always wished for a younger sister but alas I am an only child. My parents didn't go into it much but from what I understand my Mother almost died birthing me, it was such a tragic birth the Maesters said she could never have more children. Now she drinks Moontea once a week.

“Here you are, My Lady.” The merchant says holding out my crocheted bag now filled with apples.

“Thank you, sir.” I say as I pay him before putting the bag into my large wicker basket.

I then turn to watch the two girls buy their sweets, but instead of a smile coming to my face a look of horror does. I watch as a group of men eye the girls before looking back and forth to make sure no one is watching them. I start to move closer to the girls before I practically go into a sprint when I watch one start to move towards them.

By some miracle I get to the girls before he does and I touch their shoulders saying. “There you two are, how are my favorite girls. Let's go find your Father, hmm?”

The girls look up at me confused so I bend down to whisper in their ears.

“There is a group of men behind me, they are from slavers bay. I swear I will jot leave your side until we find your parents.”

They both look at each other wide eyed before looking behind me and I watch as fear takes over their faces when they see the group of men.

“Alright, I was hoping to see Father anyways.” The one called Baela says as she holds my hand and makes sure Rhaena takes my other one.

We quickly turn and start walking away from the men. I whisper to the girls not to look behind them. And thank the gods they listen.

“What does your Father look like, or perhaps your Mother.” I say looking around for anyone who looks like them.

“Muna's dead, the baby killed her.” Rhaena says with a sad look and I can't help the guilt that rises in me at opening an already painful wound.

“I'm terribly sorry.” I say as I run my hands down their heads as I look around for any man who seems to be searching for his children.

“Kepa has light skin, it's not like ours or yours. It's almost like milk. His hair is silver, and his eyes are the color of lilacs.” Baela says as she searches for their Father as well.

I nod my head remembering my Valyrian studies from when my Father was making trades with Volantis. He wanted at least one person in the house to sort of understand the language.

“Then I suggest we look for a man who is pretty much the embodiment of the color white.” I say which makes them giggle.

But just as quickly as I say my jest does a man call out for the girls names.

“Baela! Rhaena!” I hear, someone can tell the man is in pure panic if only from his voice alone.

Kepa!” The girls call out and within seconds a man matching their description pushes through two merchants and stares down at the girls.

“I thought I told you to stay where I could see you.” He chastises as he kneels down and holds them close in a bone crushing hug.

“We're sorry.” Rhaena says in a tearful voice.

I can already tell she is a girl who feels her emotions and isn't ashamed of it.

A good trait to have. I think with a smile.

“This nice lady saved us. Bad men tried to steal us.” Baela says looking up at me.

“Bad men? What?” The man asks as he stands up and eyes me.

“Five men from slavers bay, I barely got to the girls in time.” I say as I eye the man.

They never said he would be so attractive. I think fighting a blush that demands to rise to my cheeks.

He has long white hair that reaches just past his shoulders. His eyes are the shade of lilacs so much so I swear the scent fills the market square. But what stands out is his strong build. His arms are strong yet lean, his chest clearly has been sculpted by the finest artists for I just know once he takes off his clothes it will be like looking at a god made flesh.

But I quickly snap myself out of it when I see him smirk and hold his hand out in greeting.

“Thank you, my lady, not many would look put for two rugrats like these two.” He says and I can't help but smile when the girls make noises of offense.

“It is no problem. I know I would want someone to do it for me.” I say taking his hand in mine and I can't help but gasp at the Shockwave that goes through me. And from the way his eyes widened he felt it too.

“Well I wish I could repay you, so name your price.” He says looking around the booths.

I think for a moment before looking at the little girls who stare up at me as if I hold the moon and the stars in the palm of my hands. And I quickly know what I want in return for helping the girls.

“Though I don't need anything for saving these sweet girls. I will ask that you join me tonight. Today is my nameday, I turn eight and ten. There will be a small feast and I would be overjoyed for you three to join.” I say and I already can tell they will be coming from how the girls gasp and turn around to beg their Father to say yes.

“Alright, alright, calm yourselves.” He says to the girls who grin up at him with victorious gleams in their eyes. “We would love to.” He says with a smile.

“Good, I'll give you the address, but I will need your names for the guest list.” I say eyeing the man hoping he doesn't have some horrible name like Earl.

“Daemon, Daemon Targaryen.” He says and I freeze when I heat his name.

Well at least it's a good name, but it's owned by a very feared man. I think before nodding.

“Which makes you two, Baela Targaryen and Rhaena Targaryen.” I smile when they both quickly nod their heads with such enthusiasm I swear they may snap.

“Well I will see you tonight then.” I say turning and leaving to try and remember what exactly I came to the market for.

I stand in front of my mirror. I don't think I've ever spent more time choosing a dress. In the end I chose a darling blue dress that has some silver embroidery.

“I've never seen you so meticulous about a dress before.” I hear my Mother say from behind me.

I turn to see her in all her stunning glory. Deep tan skin that is more like honey in color than my Father's olive tone. Her hair is loose dark brown curls that cascade down her back. And her eyes are that of emerald green.

When people hear my mother was a low born comman girl they are always shocked. Because for some reason the only beauties of the world can be of noble blood.

“I invited someone, someone important. And I want to make a good impression.” I say as I look down at the two necklaces I'm stuck on.

One is a pearl choker with a deep amethyst in the middle. And the other is a gold necklace with sapphires engraved into it. Both are lovely, but neither will impress a Prince.

“I say the choker, it compliments your eyes best.” My Mother says as she reaches for it and gestures for me to lift my hair for her. “Who did you invite that could be so important?” She asks as she gently clips the necklace before stepping back to see her handy work.

“Daemon, his name is Daemon Targaryen.” I say and I hear the gasp that leaves her lips.

“And you only thought of telling me this now? Gods, I still have flour on me.” She scolds as she starts wiping at her face furiously.

I can't help but smile at her antics.

“You look perfect, Mother. Stop worrying.”

She sighs at my words and holds my hands in hers with a smile etched into her face.

“Well then we best get down there, don't want to leave a Prince waiting.”

I can't help but laugh at her obvious jab.

Maybe I should've said something sooner. I shouldn't have let my nerves get the best of me. I think as we walk down our winding staircase.

I hear the chatter of men and the clank of wine glasses hitting another. I can already tell most of Father's friends have come.

“Remember to smile, I know some are obnoxious but we need to make a good face.” Mother says before taking my hand and entering the ballroom.

I force a smile on my lips as we pass some of the more…unsavory men in my Father's group. I see the way they look at me, with intent, with hunger, with desire. And that isn't what bothers me, I've had these looks thrown my way for years. It's the fact they don't even try to hide it as their wives have their arms wrapped around theirs. As their children beg for their attention.

The ways of men truly are disgusting. I think as I hold my head high and make sure they don't see even a fraction of a reaction cross my features.

“Ah, there are my darling girls!” Father says and I can't help but giggle at his unadulterated joy.

He has never, not once, held back from showing the world how much he adores me and my Mother. He oftentimes will even brag to other men how we are his whole world. To say seeing the love he has for my Mother has made me have high standards in the eyes of nobility would be an understatement. But my Father has sworn to me I will not be wed off until I find a man who makes me feel safe, makes me feel adored, makes me feel loved !and who I love in return.

“Here we are.” My Mother says in that soft lilting voice that she only ever has for my Father. I already know she is looking at him as if he is the very sun that warms her skin.

My Father goes to speak when our announcer calls out.

“Prince Daemon Targaryen, of house Targaryen, and his daughters Lady Baela Targaryen and Rhaena Targaryen.”

Everyone freezes as we watch these gods made flesh walk into the room. And I don't blame them.

Baela is wearing a deep rich navy blue dress that is covered in pearls, diamonds and gold embroidery. Even her hair has gems braided into her darling little bun. And Rhaena out did herself as well, wearing a magenta dress with gold embroidery of dragons and waves, and the sleeves and bodice of the dress are covered in pearls and diamonds. And her hair is still in those small braids all along her head, but now they have little gold clamps in place with rubies in the middle of each clip.

But it is the Prince that holds my attention. In his black jerkin that seems to have scaled sewn into the shoulders and chest. And he wears a deep crimson linen undershirt that also holds golden dragon embroidery. And at his hip lays the famous blade called Dark Sister.

I feel my heart skip a beat as I watch him look around the room in search of someone. No, not someone, he's in search of me.

“M-My Prince, what brings you here?” My Father asks and before the Prince can answer my Mother gets on her tiptoes and whispers in my Father's ear what I had forgotten to inform them about. “I see.” He says, eyeing me in a playful glare before facing the Prince who has made his way towards us.

“It seems in my daughter's excitement for her Nameday she forgot to inform us of your comings, My Prince.”

I feel my heart beat rapidly, it almost feels like it's going burst from my chest. But I force myself to calm before anything truly happens. And to my relief the Prince chuckles.

“No worries, My Lord. It was a last minute invitation.” He says, eyeing his daughters who excitedly whisper to the other as they look up at me.

“Ah, well then I'm not too upset with her then.” Father says, giving me a playful wink as he nudges me with his elbow.

I go to respond when I almost fall over by the two girls running towards me huddling my skirts.

“Will you play with us?” They ask at the same time.

I watch as their Father tries to reel them telling them I have many things to do, but instead of letting him ruin theirs or my own fun I look down and ruffle their hair.

“Tag!” I say tapping Rhaena's nose before turning around and running off. I hear them yell how it isn't fair before I hear Baela groan and I already know Rhaena turned and tagged her.

And for most of the night I spent laughing with these two little girls who followed me around as if I held the whole world in my palms. I don't know why they gravitated towards me so, but what I do know is I won't tell them not to. Not after they told their Mother had passed.

But what I didn't see was the way their Father looked at me. Like I was a blessing from the gods sent to save him. If I saw that then I wouldn't have been as shocked when he started courting me a week later.

It's been five moons since I met the Prince, and since then there is hardly a day we don't see each other. Whether it is a simple walk through the gardens or a dinner with the girls. I see him each and every day.

And now isn't any different, I feel the cool breeze of the spring wind against my skin as we walk through his estates gardens. The scent of oak trees and roses fills my lungs.

“So tell me, how did your parents meet?” He asks me and I hide my smirk when I catch him eyeing my cleavage.

“She was the daughter of a sailor, she is from here, just like my Father. But they didn't meet until she was five and ten and he was seven and ten. His Father wished to use my Grandfather's ship for a trade deal. And well let's just say the rest just fell into place. That is at least the story they tell me.” I say with a smile.

He hums nodding along with his own smirk. “They are a perfect pair. I don't think I've ever seen two people so devoted to the other since my Mother passed.” He says matter of factly, but I see the pained look in his eyes. The way they almost seem far off, like he is looking at something he desires most in the world but it's out of reach.

“They are, many people think they are newly weds when they first meet them. But they are far from it, married twenty two years.”

He looks at me and I can see something brewing in his mind. Though I don't say anything, if he wants to ask or tell me something he may in his own time.

“Rhaena's dragon has yet to hatch.” He says abruptly.

I look over at him in confusion, I never understood why it mattered to him so much. She is still young and can claim a dragon like he did but for some reason he needs this egg to hatch.

“I am aware, she is quite saddened by it.” I answer in a tone that shows my confusion.

He sighs, nodding his head. “I know, and it kills me every day that it doesn't hatch. It has yet to turn to stone but it just won't hatch?” He says in a confused tone his features morph into one's of pure frustration.

I freeze looking at him fighting my anger.

“I have noticed something, you spend quite a bit of time with Baela compared to Rhaena. I tried day and night to figure out why. But one day it hit me, you had brought me to watch her train with Moondancer.” I say in a calm tone that I know is more menacing than kind.

“What are you on about?”

“That you avoid your daughter because she has no dragon. Something she has no control over. And if I am to continue to be courted by you, and possibly marry you. Then I need you to be better for those girls.”

I watch as he freezes in shock, perhaps because no one has truly told him of his failings. Or perhaps it is because he hadn't realized that I had put thought into marriage with him. Either way he is wide eyed now and is opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.

“The hour is late, My Prince, I will leave you to think about what we discussed.” I say before turning around and walking away towards my family's wheelhouse.

I didn't think he would truly put thought to them, that he would take action to be better. But the next day I was invited back to his estate, much to my shock. But instead of being greeted by him I stand alone in front of the dragonpit.

I turn to look at the guard that guided me here.

Surely he wouldn't jest? I think as I eye the stern-faced man. But just as quickly as the thought comes, does a loud screech reaches my ears.

I instantly look up to find the Prince's dragon Caraxes flying towards me. He doesn't slow down which makes me wonder if he sees me until he dives to the left and lands with a loud slam that shakes the very earth.

“That was amazing!” I hear and look up and see Rhaena grinning from ear to ear.

She wastes no time climbing down and running towards me.

“Did you see me? I got to use some commands!” She says hugging me around my middle.

“I did, but I didn't realize that was you.” I say with a grin of my own.

“She's a natural.” We hear and both look towards the Prince who smiles back at us.

Rhaena giggles at the compliment before a frown comes to her face when her Father tells her to go inside.

“Will you stay for dinner? We're having lamb roast.” She says with such pleading eyes that even if I wanted to say no I couldn't.

“Of course I will, but I believe you should ask your Father that question.” I suggest but she only gives me a mischievous grin.

“He does what he's told.” She says before skipping towards her guard who helps her into a wheelhouse.

I look back at the Prince who has his head thrown back laughing.

“She isn't usually so sassy, I guess flying boosted her confidence.” He says with a chuckle as he walks towards me.

The smell of suffering and charred meat fills my nose. It is a smell I originally disliked, but now find comfort in.

“Seems so.” I agree, waiting to see what he says next.

He stops for a moment, as if thinking over his next words. And I allow him to do so. No point in pressuring him to speak when he isn't ready.

Finally after what seems like an eternity he finally speaks.

“You were right, I do neglect Rhaena. I don't mean to, but I think a part of me doesn't know how to. They are so young and pure, and I'm a villain. With Baela I have the chance to at least talk about dragons with her. But Rhaena…it's just different.” He says and I can see this took a lot of courage to admit.

“You are not a villain, My Prince–” I say but he cuts me off.

“Daemon, call me Daemon. No need for titles.”

I freeze when he says this, for there is truly nothing reason to use his true name. Especially without the titles.

I decide to nod and clear my throat trying to recoup myself.

“You are not a villain, Daemon.” I say feeling the way his name leaves my lips. It feels like it always was supposed to be this way.

“And how do you know that?” He retorts in an almost enraged tone.

“Because name one villain who would try to be a better person just to see their daughter smile? Name one villain who would go to a girl's nameday party after only just meeting her. Name a villain who has chosen their children over their own lusts and desires?” With each sentence I step towards him until our chests are only a breath apart.

“You don't know all the things I have done.” He breathes out as if truly saying it will make me demand to know.

“I'm sure I don't, but I would love to. And even then, I will tell you that you are not a villain.” I whisper back as I look into his deep lilac eyes.

And within seconds his hands reach to hold my face in his soft yet firm grip as he devours my lips.

I can't help but whimper when his tongue slips into my mouth. The taste of bitter wine fills my pallet.

“Marry me.” He whispers between kisses. “I swear I'll be a better man, a better Father to the girls, a better me for you.”

I am stunned by his words. I want to respond, need to. But the words escape me. So instead I kiss him as fiercely as I can, pouring all my hopes, dreams, wants, and desires into it.

“Yes.” Is all I whisper before kissing him again.

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @classicsimpforaaronwarner @themoonlitquill @technicallylegendaryenemy @athzhowakar @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @thelastemzy

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nonbinairyboi · 9 hours ago

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I know I don’t have a lot of followers but I wanted to add to the recent discourse that has incensed an army of anons.

I have seen a few people comment on how they are basically scared of being criticized if they end up doing something wrong so they stay silent.

As a white person, you need to distance yourself from this idea. You need to let go of the fear of being wrong, otherwise you cannot grow. I say this as a white person.

If you are scared of getting things wrong, you will inherently not grow. I know this might be hard, as it is kind of the opposite of what some people have been told, but along with that you need to remember that your fear of being wrong does not outweigh the rightful fear BIPOC experience everyday about things that have more dire consequences.

It also means that you may run into a situation where you make a mistake, and that can lead to a few things. First of all, you need to get rid of your defensiveness. If you are told you did something wrong, you need to look inward. Is telling them how it was not badly intentioned really the way to repair the hurt? No.

Apologize and take a step back. Be thankful that they did the hard emotional labor of teaching you. They didn’t have to. They could have simply stopped interacting with you without comment.

It may still mean some BIPOC won’t want to interact with you even after you apologize. That is their right, just as it is anyone’s right when someone genuinely hurts them or makes them feel unsafe.

This doesn’t mean you can’t grow from the experience and change.

I see so much fear in white people around me who consider themselves ‘woke’. But truly, this hinders you from being able to be woke.

And I am not saying don’t try to not make mistakes, I’m just saying it shouldn’t be your biggest fear.

Allowing yourself to brood in a corner about how well intentioned and misunderstood you are turns you into exactly who you may be trying to distance yourself from.

#pedro pascal #fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe

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moonveiltarot · 3 days ago

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How Do You Intimidate Your Haters?

Okayyy let's go! As usual, pick the image you're drawn to for your reading. Only take what applies. This is not advice and I am not a professional. You can change anything by manifesting what you prefer. You are a beautiful soul. I use my unpublished bratz oracle deck. Entertainment only.

Profanity.

Minors do not interact or read.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　˚　.　　　　　 . ✦

This should be juicy!

Sorry for the het terms, it's just what naturally came out, please use the pronouns that fit if it resonates with you

"Bitches want you to compete with them so bad. Bitch it's YOU against YOU & you're still losing! LEAVE ME ALONE."

Songs: Miss Possessive - Tate McRae // Exes - Tate McRae Cards: Monster. Victim. Power Couple. Femme Fatale. Innocent. Hometowns. The Intellectual. Daydreamer. Tattletale. The Moon. Leap of Faith.

The "leap of faith" card looks like it has been chewed up and spit out. Considering the other cards, I'm getting the vibe that someone misunderstood the assignment. While you, pile 1, understood it very well.

You are perfect at playing the role of an innocent bystander or a harmless person, but someone made a mistake and saw what you were capable of. You have your haters saying you a split personality because, whatever they did to push you over the edge was enough to make your nice girl facade disappear. Immediately, they saw the horrors that lurk within and do NOT want to experience it again.

Some of you may have been in a situation where you were innocent and acted like "bait" just to expose someone's true colors. It worked. Your haters are watching and waiting for you to slip up and show them your ugly side, but they never will. They are too scared to provoke you to that point.

Whatever the situation was, it made you stronger. You know how to play the role strategically and get your way, whatever that means.

You probably have an ex saying you're crazy and they may actually have gotten a new partner to believe you are crazy. The truth is, you are fucking crazy when you have to be. They could never get you out of character though. In fact, you probably staged a situation so your ex would harm or abuse you in a way that you could finally record it or get them to do it in front of someone, so you would be believed. Even though you may have strategized to exploit this side to them, they had already been this way to you. You did what you had to. And that is incredibly badass, to be honest.

Now, their reputation is ruined and yours? Glowing! Because you are a venus fly trap, darling. So alluring, so easy to get one over on, but wait! You were two steps ahead the whole time? And now everyone who tried to set you up essentially failed and now everyone's looking at them crazy.

2. "The 'loser' in you is so loud."

Songs: The Boy Is Mine - Ariana Grande // Von Dutch - Charli XCX Cards: Gifts. Self Care. Victim. F*ck-Boi. Saboteur. King of cups. 6 of Cups. Knight of Swords. 3 of Swords. 6 of Swords.

Oof. Somebody, a little pathetic player, tried to come between you and your boo. You have something solid already and they really thought they could steal your partner away?? Or steal you from your partner? If that's not the case, this is an ex who is comparing themself to your new relationship. He knows this King of Cups is "big daddy" vibes because he can see that you are being treated the way you always should have been. Flowers, dates, romance, love. You're being cherished and valued. You are up-leveling yourself and have more offers. This man-child is feeling like a real clown. They are embarrassed and feel like they aren't up to your standards anymore. This loser from the past is really plotting to or heavily fantasizing about home wrecking.

They are taking your boundaries personally (their problem). What a creep.

Your new person probably victimized them or bullied them in some way. Ngl, that made me laugh. Imagine your new partner bullying your toxic ex and just walking away. lmao

Anyway, you could also be victimizing them. It is breaking their heart, if you were wondering. They are crying all the time about it, but won't let you see. Unless they are one of those toxic, whiny crazy ones. Yikes.

Played the player, pile 2. Now that your energy is going to yourself, this op can't stand it.

3. "Why fight a b*tch when you're already beating her in life?"

Songs: American Beauty - Nessa Barrett Cards: Queen of Swords. Ace of Cups. 6 of Swords. The Moon. Queen of Wands. 3 of Wands. Cheater, Cheater. Baddie. Blocked. Divine Couple. Trophy Wife. Rabbit hole.

You are incredibly gorgeous. Your haters don't trust their partners around you. They know their partners talk in the group chat about how hot you are. They know their partner would love to spend with you or talk to you. It's giving "fan / simp" energy. They know their partner doesn't simp for them like they do for you. This is kind of sad … They have insecurities. They probably had to block you because of how beautiful you are. That or they had their man block you. On the other hand, once you find out men in your DMs have someone you cut them off cold. This makes them feel a certain type of way. They get obsessive and stalkerish, though mostly they just search for you online with no intent to harm you. The "cold cut-off" is what does it. They like that little bitchy side you have.

Your haters are the men who can't get you to cheat with them. You are the kind of woman bad boys want on their arm. You make them simp for you and meanwhile they are stringing along some "good girl" who has never been used like this before.

You are the woman every man wants. While you have a hood-side to you, you've got that under wraps. You are polished, well put together, on top of your shit, could be an entrepreneur or witch (idk, don't ask me it just came through) and that badass side to you is simmering just beneath your carefully curated surface. You are polite and diplomatic. Let's be honest here, you are the prize. Men view you as what they really want vs their current woman who is just a placeholder.

You may deal with guy friends blocking you out of nowhere. This is their women blocking you when they find out their man was in your DMs or was even your friend.

You're at the top of the "sexual desire" hierarchy. You are considered an accomplished person who looks very attractive. You literally could have your pick of anyone on the planet. Men / fans / simps / women / anyone who you attract can get a little delusional and sick about you. They might spend hours and hours of their day just spaced out fantasizing about a real life with you. They could end up neglecting their own life because of how much they think about you.

This is their problem with you. You win. They literally can't fucking compete. Cheerleader, prom queen, pageant queen … you name it. You're considered gorgeous and accomplished by many.

To be honest, no one likes to feel that all of the love and nurturing they poured into someone will go out the window the moment they think they have a chance with you. Nobody. The partners of these "fans" feel beneath you and it hurts them, it cuts deep, that if you chose to take their man they'd be helpless and have to sit there and watch their life walk away. The fact that you aren't evil makes it worse for them because then they have to sit on pins and wondering if you'd ever actually do it. Their chest aches when they go to sleep, they cry themselves to sleep sometimes beside the same partner who waits until they think their girl is asleep then goes on their phone and looks at pics or vids of you.

You could have one ex who watched your come up from a distance and can't reach you now, but is longing for you despite having a family and maybe even kids.

They desire you, but do they even have what it takes to stand beside you? They just objectify you and it's sickening how they act. If they are blocked, good. If not, they can die mad just watching from the sidelines.

Some of these people / your ex (whichever scenario resonates) believe strongly you were supposed to be their wifey/hubby/partner for life. Their dream partner. Their partner in crime. They think they would gain the world if you were by their side. They want the lifestyle that comes with having a beautiful woman like you.

4. "People do weird sh*t, then go to a weirdo to get it validated."

Songs: Leah Kate - Get In Loser // F U Anthem - Leah Kate // Leaving This World Behind - Starset Cards: Spoiled Brat. Anger Issues. Hidden Enemy. Divine Feminine. Mentor. 2 of Pentacles. Page of Wands. 5 of Cups. 8 of Swords. Queen of Swords. The lovers.

I'm picking up a clown show. This isn't the kind of fuckery that makes me cringe or want to bully said "clowns." It's cute. It makes me giggle.

Anyway, because you are attractive, you have a "player" in his head. You confuse him. You're free spirited and just do your own thing. Like a manic pixie dream girl meets a meathead who is actually goofy and cute. He's kind of an asshole though. He sees you living your life after he did something mean and is spiraling a bit. Good leave him there. You're not going to like what I have to say probably, but you're in love with each other. You both are "players," not quick to get attached or anything. Living your life just for you and having as much fun as possible.

This person is in their head. Why did their games not work on you? If they bullied you, why in the Hell did it not work on you?

Like, they literally asked someone if doing "insert their stupid action" was a good idea and that person was dismissive as fuck, but it went over your person's head. "Yeah…" was pretty much the response and for some reason that's the only validation your person needed. They wanted to conform to something and did it, but saw that it had no effect on you. Sure their buddies might have laughed about it, but you? You just kept on going (at least it looked that way to them). Now they know you view them a certain way because your cute little self just kept on trucking and brushed it off like he was nothing.

Suddenly, out of no-fricking-where he has feelings for you. He tells himself he doesn't. He likes to be the impulsive one. But then you happened. He saw you just overcome that shit like it was nothing. Like he was nothing. He got to see a good person be done wrong because of him. He feels so stupid and embarrassed by his own actions. He'd never say it out loud.

You wouldn't either. You're a dreamer and a doer. You kind of like to go where the wind takes you. You can be impulsive too, which leads to really good times. But then the other person has withdrawals. Your person casually did this to others and didn't give a fuck, but then they met you. Your vibrant, bright and fun energy was like medicine for their soul. Then you took it away. All the sparkles just disappeared. The magic was gone. You took it with you.

You two could be really great friends, like actual besties. Because you both give the "funny, cute oddball" couple energy (without the couple). You might currently view each other as enemies outwardly, but the truth is that you're both in love. The lovers was on the bottom of the deck and I almost didn't turn it over. When I did I felt incredibly relieved.

You could definitely end up together. Or this is someone who will play a key part in finding your someone somewhere. The truth is, they are just like you, but they crave the validation of others and conform way too easily. They want to be respected and admired, they want to be a leader. They could do it, but they won't stop trying to win over others. They want fame, they want money. Their aim is to be one of those people others wish they were.

This is their divine path, but they have to overcome the fear of being judged by people who only use them and don't value them anyway. As long as they are surrounded by toxic people, they will absorb that shit.

You intimidate them because they secretly fucking wish you were their wifey. They want you. But they aren't ready yet to cut off the other people in their lives. You set a hard boundary and act like they don't exist. They may have psychic abilities too, but never talk about it because they don't want to be viewed as a "weirdo" which they have probably called you. For shamelessly being yourself and surviving what you've been through.

This person is as cute and sweet as you are in a "higher perspective" kind of way. I am seeing that now, you're so inspiring to them and made them realize they didn't want to go down this path anymore. They want to change, but their greed and materialism still has a strong hold on them. Something about parents, trauma and abandonment is coming through.

They were thrown into the world to navigate it on their own. They learned some tough lessons on the way, some of those leading to them having to shut off their emotions. They had to do toxic, sick things to get attention.

His past self is holding on for dear life, but eventually (not yet, as he's still gotta face some more consequences) he will learn and move out of this behavior. You will cross paths again in the future. For now, follow your bliss and do what brings you joy. One day you will be so happy with where your life leads you with them.

They are toxic, I know. Please don't ask me to judge them. You're both such cutie pies. I just can't… because I can see that there is a future here. They view you as an inspiration. You are who they wish to become. You are attractive, cool and loner. But you're not bitter or mean. You are smart. You are strategic. You look like you just don't give af about others and their opinions and that you're happy-go-lucky all the time. The truth is, you've been through what they have and you still chose a brighter path. You chose those lessons and learned them. You're vibrant and strong. Your soul is fully present in your body.

He knows you deserve the whole entire world because you are pure. He knows you love him. You both know, don't you? And no one is saying anything. This is a little sad. He isn't ready or willing to give up his life yet. Whatever he did to you, there is one far worse who will do it to them. His journey isn't important right now though.

He's intimidated because you played the player, you turned the tables then left. Like poof and then he was left with his mind reeling. Like, you literally duped the meanest bully on the playground. He might feel a little vengeful, but the divine is stopping this shit if he tries it again. He already tried once and failed.

You're basically equals in opposite ways. If you're a clown it's because you know how to put on a good show and entertain everyone. His clown show would end in someone getting amputated.

He is so fucking baffled. Like why and how is he attracted to a "weirdo" like you? Little does he know, you're leading him. He wants to teach you some lessons too! But they're mean and he can go kick rocks. Or his clown friends.

He knows you're his counterpart and his mind is blown. Like to pieces. He also communicates with you telepathically.

5. "I can't tell if you btches hate me or want to live in my pssy."

Songs: Purple Lace Bra - Tate McRae // Dirty Little Secret - Nessa Barrett // Sports Car - Tate McRae Cards: Spiritual Journey. Divine Masculine. Pacifist. Green Light. Unexpected Twist. Heartbroken. The Tower. The Devil. Ace of Pentacles. King of Pentacles. The World. Death.

You were set on a Divine Masculine's path. You were such a temptation to them that they would have left their current committed partner for you.

They are on their spiritual journey and it's his lesson. I'm seeing that you weren't scorned, but rather shut things down yourself because of this masculine's partner. He probably turned to you or tried to turn to you in his weakest moments because he is having problems at home. His partner / wife has done a return to sender on him.

You were caught up in this. You were sent to break this man's heart because he hurt hers. She chose not to physically harm anyone in the situation and let the chips fall where they may.

I'm feeling like you aren't heartbroken at all. This man did someone that pissed off the divine, something he knew would make him feel guilty and hurt his partner. Now they're both hurting!

You were the greatest temptation this man has ever met and now it's over forever. He really embarrassed himself because now people are talking about it.

He is being judged by the divine and the locals. Ouch.

When you entered his life you were such a shock to this person. He's intimidated because he's scared he will face divine judgement if he steps out on his wife with you. He's intimidated because he knows you are a lesson, but he wants you. He saw an opportunity and took it.

Oof. Oh well. A lesson he has to learn.

Toodles, loser~! Pile 5 is doing perfectly fine. It's over now. You learned whatever you needed to, got your coin and bounced. You don't even need him, haha!

He and his partner can pick up the pieces. This is literally over. He doesn't like that. The end was very shocking when you pulled away forever. He and current partner have to "endure" and get through this together. I would have left his stupid ass but anyway this ain't my reading

6. "One of the best feelings is when you finally say 'I deserve better' and the universe starts conspiring to prove you right."

Songs: Bitter - Fletcher, Kito // Cate's Brother - Maisie Peters Cards: The Sun. 6 of Cups. Queen of Pentacles. The Hierophant. Strength. Judgement. Ace of Cups. Phoenix Rising. Seeking Revenge. Neurodiverse. Victim. Karmic Feminine. F*ck-boi.

You may have a crush on someone who is definitely crushing back. They have a girlfriend though, this person who has feelings for you. In fact, you may have been innocent in this. Like completely innocent. You aren't malicious at all and you probably don't acknowledge social hierarchies. Because this person didn't tell you they had a partner, you may have been labeled a boyfriend stealer.

After you found out, you probably hired someone to cast a breakup spell or did one yourself. If not, it's cool. You may have good astrology with this fuck boy. He was playing you and just wanted to use you.

Now, his ex-girlfriend is single, you left him in the dust. He's the one feeling intimidated.

The karmic feminine is still hating, but now the masculine is feeling incredibly guilty for what he did to you. You're still going through your transformation and he knows you're going to be out of his league.

You decided to stop letting him string you along. You have a strong sense of self and wanted better. You deserve better than whatever he was trying to do. He might have made you think he'd be in a relationship with you.

You had to make a difficult decision, but you did it. It hurt for a while, but now you're in your "I'm doing me" revenge era. Welcome to the dark side! You're still as sweet and lovable as before, but now you're more wise. You know what you deserve and you are taking it all for yourself with a vengeance.

The karmic feminine may have made her presence known or something. Especially after watching him toy with you. She may have even encouraged him to do it. That or she got tired of him cheating and broke up with him. Either way, this man is a joke and he's hating on you for knowing what you deserve. An immature ass-hat to be certain.

You could be into the craft and have done a protection or return-to-sender that bit them in the ass. You could have just prayed to the angels or the universe (or whatever protects you) and asked for them to help you move on and forget this fool. To make them see what they did. To watch you glow up and move on. To know how irrelevant they are.

Good job for doing better! You absolutely deserve it, beautiful. <3

7. "Bitches do NOT intimidate me at all. I'll sit right next a person who doesn't like me. Hey girl!"

Songs: Say It - Tori Lanez // Daisy - Ashnikko // Venom - Little Simz Cards: Baby witch. Wounded Feminine. Wounded Masculine. Solitary witch. Wifey. Sadist. Seeking Revenge. Strength. 7 of Pentacles. The Lovers. Knight of Cups. 6 of Swords. Justice.

You found out someone wanted you to feel unwelcome or did some action against you. You somehow made it very well known that you don't take that shit sitting down.

You inserted yourself into this hater's personal space or got a little too close for their comfort.

They see you as competition and they were trying to trash you or sabotage you. If they didn't they want to. You somehow found out and stood up for yourself.

You interjected yourself into their space and let them know just where you stand with them.

You trigger a lot of insecurities in this person.

They don't have anything to say suddenly when you're around, but there is tense energy between you. And silence. You are the type to look them in the eye and dare them to lie on your name right in front of you.

Shortest pile, but to the point. This person is just beginning a path that you already know and can do alone. They are still learning and know you could help them or hurt them. So they tried to destroy you / your reputation / your relationship/s.

8. "You're a little too comfortable running your mouth because no one has checked your sh*t yet. Come over here and do it."

Songs: STFU - Pink Guy // One of Us - The Word alive // Lucifer - Eminem Cards: 10 of Pentacles. 4 of Pentacles. 8 of Cups. 4 of Cups. The Sun. The Hierophant. Death. Seeking Revenge. Wounded Masculine. Protection. Divine Daughter. Spoiled Brat. Dark Feminine.

Your hater is intimidated by how chill and abundant you are. You have so much going for you and you have wisdom. They may have said they would fight you and all that, but when you actually showed up, radio silence. Now they know not to run their fucking mouth unless they want to say it to your face.

I'm feeling like this is a triggered ex that is running their mouth to trash you or ruin your reputation. The divine is protecting you from this.

The fact that you are protected from their schemes makes them feel very intimidated by you. You have so much, but it looks like it is just handed to you. It makes them feel stolen from. It makes their sense of lack all the more obvious. They think you just get things and ar God's favorite while they have to suffer, slave and work hard for anything they get.

They also feel the need to assert their masculinity over you. You just sit there unbothered as fuck and pleasant to interact with and it just triggers them. You are the favorite. It could even be a sibling who is competing with you. You're obviously the favorite. You use your dark feminine qualities to get what you want and they hate that about you. People like you and they feel like they need to expose.

Please don't steal! I hope it was good? I wish I could get more energy for this reading. <3

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