#it's fun to say or repeat endlessly in my head

[leclerc-hs]

maybe happy (and kinda dumb) charles after his first win of the season and hes just needy in the hotel and maybeee pussydrunk too? ☺️

A/N: not sure how I feel about my writing in this one but it was fun to write!!! idk why but i am smut obsessed tonight. xoxo I hope you guys like it enough. sorry if it's not good enough!! warnings: smut under the cut!!! minors do not read!!!! xoxo also bad french

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

If anybody were to ask Charles how he plans to celebrate his first win of the season, there would be two possible answers he could say. It was dependent on who was asking. If it were a reporter or somebody from work, the simple answer would be 'célébrer aves amis et ma famille' celebrate with my friends and family. If it were you asking, on the other hand, the answer would be much more complex, much dirtier.

"I need your tight cunt wrapped around my cock, chérie." He groans softly into your ear, pushing you into the hotel room with such vigor, and you don't fight it. "Laisse moi te sentir," let me feel you.

"Est-ce que je le mérite?" Do I deserve it? The question is rhetorical, but he repeats it with each thrust of his underwear covered hips into yours. He knew he deserved it. He was that fucking smug over his win. The cotton panties adorning your body, dampening with each swing of Charles hips onto you.

He hovers over your petite frame on the bed, his head hanging and arms placed on both sides of your head, eyes locked on yours. You lift up, attaching your lips straight to the prominent veins on his neck, licking from the base of his neck until you reach his ear and pull it in between your teeth.

His helmet hair is still strongly apparent, his skin salty and coated in dried sweat from all the hard work he put into his win. The taste of his skin on your hot tongue only turns you on more.

There was no strategic moves this time around, you both were far too needy to tease one another. You both couldn't even take your underwear off all the way. He pushes his underwear out of the way, just enough for his cock to spring free. It's hard and a flushed shade of red, it almost looks painful. For a moment, you felt bad for taking this long to even get to the hotel.

Not bothering to remove yours, he strokes himself a few times to ease the ache surging in his cock, while simultaneously slipping his fingers into your underwear, pushing the fabric that covered your aching hole to the side. He wastes no time. Stuffing his cock into your tight pussy, loud groans escaping both of your lips simultaneously as the burning stretch of your walls clasp onto his cock.

"Mon dieu," My god. He groans, shuttering softly into the shell of your ear as he falls down onto his elbows. "Vous vous sentez is bien." You feel so good.

His tongue traces the shell of your ear and you mindlessly wrap your legs around his waist, letting his hips drive further into you.

Your velvet walls flutter endlessly around his hard cock. His hips driving into you with such force, the bed is knocking into the wall with each flex.

"G'na take all of me?" He groans. "Tu es à moi?" You're mine? He already knows the answer, but he loves to hear you say it. He needs you to say it.

"Oui, je suis à vous!" Yes, I am yours! You exasperate with a shriek in between each word. The sound of skin slapping echoes in the room, the squelches of how wet your pussy is, audibly known and it only turns you both on more.

"Tu es tellement mouillé." You're so wet. His cock slides in and out of you, a shuttering breath is released between each thrust.

"Only for you," you babbled on, rutting your hips up to meet his thrusts.

Occasionally, he would slow his hips, pushing into you as deep as possible while pressing his hands down onto your tummy. The bulge of his cock visible in the depths of your stomach, making you melt like butter in his hands.

"C'est mon endroit?" That's my spot?

Your walls clench tightly around him, it was border line suffocating to his cock. It's so tight, that he is fully whimpering directly into your ear about how good you feel, about how tight you are, about how badly he wants you to soak his cock. It only springs your orgasm on quicker.

"Oh fuck, m gonna cum." You confess, your eyes shut and head pressed against the mattress as you arch your back off of it.

"Mmm." You nod your head repeatedly, barely able to form words from the delicious stretch of his cock in you as you feel yourself getting close. "Fill me up, s'il te plaît." Please. You beg.

You feel his body shutter against yours at that, his hips losing their rhythm for a few moments. You clench your walls around him tightly, begging for more. More anything.

You cum hard. It's messy and soaks his cock completely. And it brings Charles to his own release in the matter of seconds.

"That's my girl," he grunts while releasing hot spurts of cum into you, hips still drilling into you.

He's babbling, unsure of what is even going on as you continue to clench around him, surely the oxygen supply to his brain cut off from your tight grip. Babbling things like 'so fucking good, chérie' 'such a greedy little pussy' 'g'na give me it all?' 'g'na make a mess of me?' 'soak me, chérie'

The squeeze of your pussy had him at loss for words as he collapses on top of you, not pulling out. The idea of his cum sitting inside of you, snug with his cock, had his erection growing not too long after. To which, you cock an eyebrow as he looks at you, all smug.

"I'd like to claim my prize all night." He muttered into the crevice of your neck, rolling you over and driving his hips upwards into you, sending you spiraling all over again.

[defectivehero]

The hero is taking their nephew trick-or-treating tonight for the first time, and they’re a bit nervous. Their nephew, Danny, is a great kid and well-behaved. The hero just isn’t used to acting as a guardian.

But as the afternoon begins, they start to relax as they see how much fun Danny is having. They watch as he runs up to a rather nice house, returning moments later with candy.

Then the hero sees the homeowner motion for them to come closer. They see that familiar form—almost seeming misplaced in civilian clothing—and their heart drops. Out of all the people they could’ve encountered… they just had to find the villain.

Gritting their teeth, the hero tells their nephew to run to the next house and stay within eyesight… before they walk up to the doorstep of the villain’s house.

“I didn’t realize you had a child,” the villain hums casually.

“Don’t,” the hero warns them.

“What?” The villain asks, having the audacity to look offended. “It was just an observation.” They blink innocently.

“He’s my nephew.” The hero spits out. They must be doing a bad job of hiding their distrust, because the villain sighs theatrically.

“Trust me, if I were up to something, you’d know,” the villain huffs. “Besides, I have… other priorities tonight.” They glance to the side and, in a few seconds, a child heads towards the doorway. The hero blinks. This must be the villain’s child.

“Um. Hi.” The hero says awkwardly, still reeling from the realization that the villain has a child.

The kid has the same eyes and nose as their parent. The resemblance is startling. “That’s a bad hero costume,” they remark helpfully. “You’re missing the amulet.”

They are missing their amulet, ironically. The hero self-consciously puts a hand to their collarbone before sighing. The villain looks endlessly amused, and also a bit wary of them—as if worried about their behavior in front of their child. The hero resists an eye roll at that, before glancing down the sidewalk. Their nephew is running back to them, bouncing on his heels impatiently as he evidently wonders what’s taking them so long.

“Hi,” the hero greets their nephew, placing a hand on his shoulder. He settles down a little, but still looks eager to go to the next house.

“Hi.” He answers. Then he looks curiously at the other child and smiles at them. The villain’s child smiles ever so slightly in response. The hero studies them for a moment, taking in those familiar hazel eyes on someone far more innocent and pure hearted than their enemy. Then they notice the kid’s costume and the slight frown on their lips and wonder if the villain has taken them trick or treating yet. It doesn’t look like it, actually—and that would explain the envious glances the kid is shooting at Danny.

“You know,” the hero says, crossing their arms over their chest. They’re already making the offer before they can think about it. “I was going to take Danny here trick-or-treating anyways… I’d be happy to take your child too.”

The villain studies them for a long, long time. The tense silence is only broken by a movement from the child at their side, who hesitates for a moment before crossing the threshold of the doorway and standing next to Danny.

“Do you want to go with them, Kel?” The villain asks; their child nods brightly in response. The villain lets out a long-suffering sigh, turning their attention to the hero. “Very well. I’m trusting you to ensure their safety.”

“Of course,” the hero responds sincerely. “I’ll have them back by curfew at 7.”

“6:30,” the villain argues.

The hero squints at them skeptically, before glancing down at their watch. It’s only 4:45 p.m. That’s plenty of time. “Fine.” They agree.

“If anything happens to them-” The villain starts.

“I know,” the hero interjects, before they can utter any threats in front of the children.

“I’m trusting you,” their enemy repeats gravely. “Don’t make me regret it.”

The hero nods, understanding just how much faith the villain is placing in them. Then an idea comes to mind. “Get your phone out.” The villain stares at them for a moment, before doing as requested. From there, the hero gives them their phone number. Then they reach into their own pocket and turn their phone’s ringer on. “Okay?” They ask, looking at them pointedly. The message is clear: Call me if you need anything.

The villain is staring at them with a complex expression on their face. “Okay.” They respond. Then they look to their child. “Have fun, alright?”

With that, the hero turns their back on the villain and watches as their nephew and their enemy’s child excitedly race ahead to the next house. They can feel the villain’s gaze watching them, even as they turn the corner and head out of sight.

©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.

thanks for reading! happy halloween!!! 🦇🧛🏻

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[notroosterbradshaw]

Oh thank you for the compliment :) i'm sure you could do it justice but maybe we could get some generic hangman fluff maybe with them at the beach and he looks out for her by putting sunblock on her and making sure she's eats lunch and stays hydrated and he's teasing her and being very playful with her? Thanks



Okie doke, you get your Hangman on the beach, nonny. I hope you enjoy! Hangman fluff awaits. Dagger Squad future fic.

You liked this new tradition you were able to share with Jake. Each year, around the same time depending on deployments, family commitments, you know the normal life stuff, Dagger Squad came from far and wide to try and get back to the beach for their annual defensive football game and bonfire. Mid-afternoon, the egos start running their mouths about which team will win, and what the stakes are (and the winners and partners always enjoyed the 200 push-ups for the losers and Fanboy's sigh at wishing he never mentioned it).

"Right here, baby?" Jake asked quietly, saying a quiet hello to Bob's partner and burgeoning baby belly and Penny. His warm palm skimming the skin between your ripped jeans shorts and his old Foreigner tee you'd knotted in the back to make work. He nuzzled your neck as he dropped the cooler and whipped off his shirt. He hadn't buttoned it so what difference did it mean as he slid out of his flip flops and put all his gear into a pile and into the beach bag.

Some regiments he just couldn't shake, and neatness was one of them. So was the gym. You would love him endlessly anyway, but he was proud of his body and worked hard on maintaining it as he got older. You were proud he was proud he took such good care of himself and you reaped the benefits.

Ha gave you some space as he unfolded the blanket and flicked it out onto the warm sand as Harvard and Yale approached him and within seconds, they were talking about recent deployments, new kit, and manoeuvres. You were as supportive as you could be with things you'd rather be kept in the dark over. Jake respected that. He knew what he did terrifed you but the boys just understood it better than you ever could. You were absolutely not offended.

You tossed some bits and pieces on the blanket, camera, snacks, and sunscreen. "Ooh," Jake smirked, popping to pick up the sunscreen. "May I?" he asked eagerly.

"May I?" you repeated, biting back your grin. "Aren't you proper today?"

"I would hate for you to be burnt. It's a skin trauma, baby," he protested as you took your sunnies off and glared at him. "And I wanna feel you up. Sue me," he shrugged, his true personality shining through.

"Well, aren't you sweet?" you roughly patted his cheek and the masochist in him loved the lack of caress in your touch. He adjusted his jaw appreciatively. "Okay, Jake. Just to avoid the trauma."

"Your skin is your biggest organ," he reminded you, watching you lift the shirt over your shoulders, licking his lips at the additional skin you'd been keeping under wraps. "Not mine..." he muttered cheekily.

"Jake, knock it off," you laughed as he grinned wide, turning you away from him. You wouldn't complain about the extra touch and affection that lasted a good five minutes, you we melting under his light touch. He kissed the nape of your neck in finality. "I'm good?" you asked quietly.

"You're very, very good," he growled playfully swatting your butt.

You gave him space and sat on the beach blanket, sunnies back on, and Jake plopped your hat on your head. "Thank you."

"Here ya go, sweetheart," Jake handed you your water bottle. "Gettin' hot out here," he grinned. He thrived in hot weather. You smiled against his lips as he laid a gentle kiss on you. "You wanna play?" he could hear the catcalling and jeering for Jake to toss the ball around.

"Would rather put knitting needles in my eyes. Only here to watch the bodies," you joked... kind of.

"You just mean mine, right?" he asked, a mix of unsurity and arrogance as you laughed.

"Yes, Jake. Only yours. Go have fun," you reassured him, taking a seat and a cool slug from your water bottle as he stood over you and squatted to give you another sweet kiss.

"I'm glad you're here, sweetheart. I'm happy as this group gets bigger that you're here with me and you get to meet the people I trust more than my own family."

You cupped his jaw. "They are your family. They are our family, baby. You big softie."

Warm in the sun, but you noticed his ears flush and duck his eyes. "Don't tell anyone or my reputation will be shattered," he teased as you both laughed loudly, and his heart swelled to bring that smile to your beautiful face. "Gimme some lovin' before I go and kick these preppy asses," he smiled against your lips and kissed you deeply. "Another," he demanded. "You're so sweet, I can't handle it," his nose nuzzled against yours.

You knew his friends were mocking him behind his back but you were very confident he didn't change his behaviour around his friends and was comfortable enough to lay some love on you and you were very aware of Penny's stare... and jaw-dropping.

"Jake, Jesus!" you hear Coyote holler.

"Your bestie is pissed," you told Jake as he looked back over his shoulder and gave the team a selective one-finger salute. "Go, before they think it's me keeping you here. And not your that's horribly whipped."

"I'm whipped," he admitted and stretched, this incredible body flexing in all the right places, the golden sun making the beads of sweat his flawless skin glisten. Jesus, he was just so sexy. "I freely admit it."

"Go," you scooted him as his persona changed and Hangman arrived.

"All right, all right, all right, who is ready for some football?" he boomed, drifting over to his friends. It got rough and competitive, sweaty and slippery pretty quickly and you got closer a while later to take some polaroids as the sun set for shits and giggles later tonight to hand out. You had a pleasant afternoon as more friends and family joined you and kept you busy.

As the game was called and losers paid their penance in the form of push-ups, you watched Jake and Rooster put together the bonfire, the part you were most excited for. Yes, Jake Seresin was hotter, if possible, in most light, but the way the flames flickered over his face as you chatted with Natasha and he kept his arm around your shoulder, under the pretence of keeping you warmed before the roaring fire.

"You hungry, babydoll?" he murmured in your ear, the barbecue well and truly cranked and the smells driving your tummy into overdrive. "Beer?"

"Yes to both, please?" you asked and he nodded, kissing you tenderly before leaving you with Natasha. She shook her head in disbelief.

"Who is that guy and what did he do with Bagman?" she asked, astonished. You grinned. "That is a man in love."

[thehereticdiaries]

A (Not So) Meet Cute: Chapter Two

Chapter Summary: You finally get home, the skz boys talk about you, and you get added to a very chaotic group chat (sorry i kinda suck at summaries)

Warnings: None for this chapter, it's mostly building plot

Series Masterlist

Chan held your elbow to steady you as you stepped over the shattered glass on the ground. Once outside, you started towards the closest bus stop, eager to get back to your apartment and take a goddamn nap. 

“Where are you going?” The grip Chan had on your elbow tightened slightly, stopping you from walking away. His eyebrows were furrowed, and you mirrored his expression.

“To the bus stop? How else am I supposed to get home?” This felt like an obvious answer to you. 

“Nah, I already messaged one of our drivers. He’ll be here any minute now to bring us to your apartment,” Chan explained. Your eyebrows shot up toward your hairline. 

“Us?”

“I’m not about to let you take public transport by yourself with your phone dead. You’ve had enough excitement for one day, yeah?” A car pulled up right as you opened your mouth to protest. Chan opened the back door, tilting his head like he was daring you to say no. You sighed but climbed into the backseat, scooting over when Chan got in next to you. 

“Hey Dohyun, thank you for getting here so quickly,” Chan greeted the driver. He dipped his head in a quick bow to return the greeting, then looked at you. You told the elder the name of your apartment building and he quickly returned to the road. The car was comfortably quiet, the only sound being a soft jazz melody. You stared out the window, trying to process the events of your day. All too quickly Dohyun was parking the car in a visitor spot in the apartment’s garage. You and Chan both unbuckled your seat-belts and you shot him yet another confused look.

“I don’t want to overstep your boundaries here. You can totally tell me to piss off, but I’d feel more comfortable if I could walk you to your apartment. I want to make sure your phone turns back on and my text went through,” Chan rambled in your stunned silence. “You don’t have to, of course, but-”

“Chan, it’s fine. You can come up for a bit,” you interrupted. Chan looked genuinely relieved. You shook your head and stepped out of the car. What the fuck was your life right now?! The Bang Chan was in your apartment, sitting on your couch. You focused on keeping your composure while plugging in your phone. 

“You’re going to press charges, right?” 

“Oh, um, I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. Maybe?” Your statement sounded more like a question. Chan shot you a look that you couldn’t decipher. 

“The other boys and I will help, you know. We’ll testify against that man,” Chan insisted. Your heart swelled with gratitude and admiration for the leader. You stomped down on the butterflies fluttering around your stomach.

Don’t get it twisted, Y/N, he’s being nice because you went through a traumatic event. He doesn’t- your thoughts were cut off by your phone vibrating endlessly on your desk. 

“Jesus, it figures I’d get a million notifications on the only day my phone is dead,” you mumbled in English and picked your phone up. Chan snickered behind his hand. You ignored most of the notifications for now, opting to look for Chan’s text first. You could go through the rest after he left. 

“You get it?” You nodded and sent a message back to him so he’d have your number. “Good. I should get back to the studio to make sure the boys are alright.” Chan stood. You walked him to your door, and he turned back to you once he was in the hallway.

“Seriously, I can’t thank you all enough. I don’t know what would have happened if Seungmin didn’t show up,” you repeated. Chan smiled but shook his head slightly.

“Is it alright if I give your number to everyone else?” 

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Alright, remember to text one of us if you need any help with the court process. Or just text us for fun. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we’d like to get to know you.” Your cheeks heated and you lost the ability to form a coherent sentence, so you just nodded. Chan looked very pleased with this. With a small wave, he strolled down the hallway toward the elevators. You closed your door, leaning your forehead against the wood to calm yourself. 

Chan returned to the car and hopped back into the backseat. Dohyun raised his eyebrows, giving the younger man a knowing look. Chan rolled his eyes but couldn’t contain his grin.

“Just get back to the studio, please,” he pleaded. Dohyun chuckled but didn’t inquire any further. 

Back at the studio, the other members of Stray Kids were discussing everything that happened while they helped clean up the mess. 

“How the hell did you manage to get such a cute girl’s attention?” Changbin poked Seungmin on the cheek. The younger swatted his hand away.

“Dude, she was being followed by a man she didn’t know,” Seungmin scoffed. “I happened to be the first person that went into the cafe.”

“Hey I had no idea what was going on!” Changbin held his hands up in surrender. “I came out here to Minho cursing and talking about calling the cops. Next thing I know, a brick is breaking our door and you and Chan are getting in some guy’s face.”

“You waited that long to see why we all left the recording booth?” Jisung teased. Changbin rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t notice you leaving, I was messing with the backing vocal track.” Seungmin dragged a hand down his face at the rapper’s obliviousness. Felix filled him in with an abridged version of the situation. 

“Oh, shit.”

“Wait, you didn’t know what was happening and yet you joined the fight anyway?” Seungmin quipped with his eyebrows raised. 

“I wouldn’t really call it a fight,” Felix commented. Seungmin glared at him half-heartedly. 

“You and Chan got up in the guy’s face. I trust you both, so I figured he must have done something to deserve it,” Changbin explained. The rumble of an engine interrupted them. Moments later, Chan was stepping through the broken door. Multiple voices spoke over each other until Chan raised a hand.

“Guys, guys, one at a time,” he sighed. “Before you even ask: yes she’s home safe and yes she said I can give everyone her number.” Jisung sprung up, phone in hand. “Jisung, chill. I’ll send her contact to the group chat.”

“You couldn’t have done that on your way back?” Hyunjin asked incredulously. The eldest just shrugged in response before sending your phone number to the “single father of seven” (Seungmin was to blame for the name) group chat. 

“You’re sure she got to her apartment?” Seungmin questioned. Chan nodded, still distracted by his phone.

“Yea, I waited with her until her phone turned on.”

“You got to go into her apartment?!” Jisung shook Chan’s shoulder. “You cheater!”

“What?! How and why am I a cheater?”

“You got to spend alone time with Y/N!” He accused. “You’re trying to get her to like you more.” Chan rolled his eyes at Jisung’s shit-eating grin. 

“You’re a menace,” Chan snickered. “Alright, we’re done for today. Let’s get back to the dorms.” The boys filed out of the studio. A second car had joined the one Dohyun occupied. Chan, Minho, Seungmin, and Jeongin climbed into Dohyun’s car while everyone else got in the other. 

“Hey, Chan?” Seungmin started.

“Yes, I told her that she should press charges and that we would help if she wanted it,” Chan answered before he could even ask the question. Seungmin closed his mouth, a little annoyed that he was so obvious but mostly relieved that you knew they would be there for you. The car fell to silence as they chatted in the newly made group, this one including you. 

You: I seriously can’t believe I’m texting Stray Kids right now :0

Jeongin: are you stay?

Seungmin: obviously not, if she didn’t recognize me lmao

You: hey!! I was a little distracted >:(

You: but to answer your question, i listen to your music sometimes but i wouldn’t say i’m a true stay

Jisung: booooooo! 

Hyunjin: im offended

Chan: pls chill i am begging

Felix: yea, its not that big a deal. we can turn her into a stay >:3c

You: oh sweet baby jesus, should i be scared?

Jisung: no

Hyunjin: no

Felix: no

Seungmin: yes 🙄

You: …………

Chan: im so sorry 

You giggled throughout the conversation. Sure, you were a little starstruck but you were definitely playing up your nervousness. It was funny watching them argue amongst themselves. You spent the rest of your afternoon half paying attention to a new show on Netflix, but most of your focus was on the group chat (which Jisung lovingly named “certified yappers”). You had an oddly warm feeling in your chest bloom as you learned more about the personalities hidden behind the idol image. 

You: i need to go to bed, i have work in the morning. gn guys!

You got a chorus of “goodnight” texts from everyone except for Seungmin. Oh, well. He might have fallen asleep already. No use worrying about it, you thought to yourself while going through your night time routine. Another text came through right after you settled under your blankets. You gaped at the message.

Seungmin: im walking you to work tomorrow. dont even bother arguing, ill meet you outside your building at 8:30. goodnight, Y/N

[yellow-berrys]

honey | sirius black x reader

summary: you and sirius black are pining over each other. the story of it.

navigation | masterlist 

SPINNING IN THE SWIRLS OF PEONY DRESSES AND SILK GOWNS, you revel as you dance. Not perfectly, but joyfully. The way you twirl is a little messy, whilst the punch hasn’t been spiked you still feel endlessly happy. You’re tossed from one person to another in a fast-paced rhythm, from the pretty Queen of Hufflepuff to a boy you’ve never seen before to James Potter to Lucius Malfoy. 

“Hi, Y/n!” Lily cries over the music, “Having fun?”

You grin, dizzying yourself under her arm. “Lots! How are you?”

“I’m amazing! This is wonderful!”

You don’t have time to reply before she’s swung away into a stranger’s arms and you look up with curiosity to see grey eyes grinning furiously at you. 

You return the smile, “Hey Sirius!”

He’s beautiful in this glossy gold lighting, light curving out his high cheekbones, lips curved a little in greeting. His eyes are a shade of warm grey in this room compared to their usual metal. But you can’t give yourself away, so you’ll look anywhere but his face, scolding yourself for being so obvious. After all, there’s a reason he didn’t ask you to the dance. 

“Hey,” he says, maybe a little out of breath. “Hey,” he repeats. 

You shake your head, feet tapping at the floor, “You OK?” 

“I’m fine!” He says loudly over the song, “Better than ever really,” is hidden by the loud beat of the music.

You feel satisfied in your dreamy dress with a lovely smile growing at your lips. You miss what he says next whilst wishing this would be forever.

“Pardon?” You ask.

“Huh?”

“You said something’s beautiful. My dress is rather nice, isn’t it?” 

“Gorgeous,” he flatters you and you chuckle. 

“Just pulling your leg. No need to sweet-talk me,” you smile up at him as you're transferred into the arms of a Ravenclaw. 

And he’s left blushing away, the girl who has replaced you thinking she’s the one who makes him flustered. You think she probably has, and wink at her. You turn to your partner.

“No date, L/n?” he sneers and you raise your eyebrows mid dance. 

“I don’t think that’s your business, Corey.”

“You look very pathetic,” he grins maliciously, “Dressing up just for no one to admire.”

“What about you, Corey? Who’s your date?”

“Heron Bridger.”

“You mean the same Heron who’s currently...snogging Severus? Gee, she’d really rather be with Snape than you!”

“Just you wait, I will...”

But he’s yanked by a stranger to their dance, and you meet eyes with Jane Pickett.

“Honestly,” she says, “I can’t even imagine dressing up.”

You’re silent. 

“I would come in converse and leggings if I could,” she drawls out, “I would still get asked out, unlike you,” she sneered. 

Your good mood was starting to fade. A girl from the girls, who were usually so supportive and comforting, was criticising you. It must’ve meant you actually had problems.

“That dress doesn’t even sit right on you.” 

And as the song ends just like the last strands of hope that maybe someone will call you gorgeous, you slip out of the Great Hall so subtly, your footsteps adjacent with the ringing of the 10 o’clock bells for bedtime.

Back in your dorm room, it’s quiet and empty. You climb into the shower and wash your hair and chuck your dress into the laundry, watching it spin. You pull on comfortable pyjamas and sigh, looking into the mirror. 

“I shouldn’t be overreacting,” you hiss to no one in particular, “Am I really that insecure?”

You settle down next to the fire crackling. The heat feels unbearable. 

“Heavens. I am pathetic.”

Suddenly; a voice. “Wonderful self affirmation practices you’ve got going on there, sweetheart. Can I come in?”

You let out a muffled noise of affirmation. Sirius saunters in. 

You don’t know whether his air of cologne and confidence will be any good for your poor heart, but when he grins at you with words of “Want a hug?” you want to sob all over again. 

You crawl into his lap, and he pulls his arms over you. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear as you cry. Things that make you laugh, too, because he knows how to cheer you up. 

“And Lily was about to take off her massive earrings to throw hands at Corey.”

“Really?”

“No. Those huge things cost money.”

You let out a wet giggle. 

“What did he say to you?”

“Just a load about how I had no one to admire me and so I was pathetic. And that no one wanted to ask me out.”

“That’s not true.”

You raised your eyebrows, “It is, Sirius, but it hurt.”

“It’s not true,” he affirms, “I can think of at least one guy who wanted to ask you out.”

“Well, they didn’t, that’s what matters,” you frown, “It’s okay, Sirius, I’m fine. I don’t need a man to admire me.”

“I know you don’t need a man, sweet thing, men need you.”

You snort. “Please, men evade me like bees to...not honey.”

He laughs and he sounds beautiful when he does it. It makes you hate yourself even more. Nothing you could ever do would be as pretty as him. As you look up to him and smile back, he looks a little out of his depth.

You didn’t know what comes over you, but you regret saying, “You’re beautiful, you know?”

“Oh?” his eyes widen and his cheeks tinge pink, “No one’s ever really told me that before.”

“Mm?”

“Yeah. They always say I’m hot or cute or handsome, but never beautiful.” 

“Well you deserve to be called beautiful.”

“Tell me more about it?”

You inch closer to him, reaching a hand out to brush his raven hair out of his eyes. 

“I like your hair. I like the way that your eyes go from grey to blue in sunlight and how they are so warm now.”

“Oh?” Sirius smirks at you now.

“Yeah, and I like how your nose slants so delicately. And your eyelashes are so long,” you run a finger over them and he closes his eyes.

“It sounds like you must like me a lot.” You ignore him.

“I like how you always are so sweet to everyone, including me. I like how your cold front melts into honey. Now someone’s told you it.”

He opens his mouth, then clamps it shut. “Sounds like someone has a little crush,” he finally says. 

“I don’t,” you smile. 

“Mm? Really?”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re ugly.”

“...”

“Thought we were just lying now.”

And now he’s got you all flustered, as you shake your head and get up, leaving the room with a soft “we’re done”. 

“This is your room!” he calls. 

“I know!” you yell back. 

---

Winter has passed and spring arrives to Hogwarts now, the snows fleeting away from sight and blue skies and sunny eyes replacing foggy weather. It’s a joy to behold, and the Black Lake shimmers with cerulean. 

Somehow the Marauders have convinced everyone else that a giant squid lives under the water, and that they are the only brave ones that might dare to swim with it. 

“Can we go down to the lake?” Lily asks as you both come out of a dreary Potions lesson, “Slughorn was dreadful.”

“Sure,” you smirk, “Let’s attribute the sudden need to go to the lake with Slughorn and not James Potter.”

She blushes, “For the last time, I don’t like Potter!”

“Let’s just skip the chance to see him shirtless, then, hey?” you nudge her and laugh, heading to the lake all the same. 

Remus lounges underneath a big shady tree, reading a book, as Sirius, James and Peter splash around carelessly. As James sees Lily, he gathers himself, walking out of the water very smoothly. Lily turns bright red and squeaks to you, “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.”

You grin at her, opening up your Arithmancy Advanced homework booklet as you sit down on a bench with a pen, “Sure, sure.”

Sirius meets Remus’ eye, which turns towards you. He wades out of the water carefully. He realises he’s going to need to do more as you don’t even glance at him, choosing to be entirely absorbed in your homework. 

“Moony, what do I do?” he whispers and Remus shrugs, “I dunno, catch her attention?”

Sirius calls your voice softly and you turn your head to him, eyes still on the paper and scrawling away. 

“Can you help me with one of the questions?” Sirius asks as he dries himself off with a towel, “Well, a few.” 

Your eyes snap to him, and widen as you see that not only James is shirtless, but he is too. You avert your gaze. He’s very pretty like this, skin backlit by the afternoon sun, muscles lovely and defined. He looks so sweet right now and you just wish he would be sweet on you. You must be exploiting his good looks. 

“Sure. First put on a shirt please,” you smile politely at him.

“Nah, I’m more comfortable like this,” he snarks. 

You couldn’t argue with that, and so you shifted a little to let him sit down. He’s warm with exercise and sits close to you. You shift away, red with the fact that he is so, so, close. 

He frowns, and gives you a little space. But as he sees your blushing face, he smirks. 

“So,” he locks eyes with you intensely, and you’re the one who looks away first, “Question 3?”

“Right. Do you understand the basic concepts of…”

Sirius is a wonderful student, easy on the eyes, but also highly intelligent, even in his banter. 

You can’t pick up on it, but he borderline dotes on you. “You’re such a nerd, you know that?” he says adoringly. 

“I do, in fact. Now can you tell me, what’s the next part to this question? We’re on Question 5.”

“Not sure. I’m ‘fraid you’re going to have to explain it to me.”

Your eyes flit to his as if to say again?

“Again,” he confirms sweetly and you pull out your notes again without complaining. You don’t know if Sirius is playing along or not, but he’s so lovely you don’t say anything. 

Sirius’ handwriting is unsteady as he writes his own answers. “Homeostasis,” he says grimly as he notices that you notice and you laugh. 

“You’re being weird,” you say, “Are you okay?”

“Well not particularly, homogeneous equations are not serotonin-inducing.”

You laugh and turn your gaze towards Lily, who is walking back towards you. She looks very happy and very in love, so you scoop up all your homework and smile at Sirius. 

“I’ve got to go. Return the pen to me in class, won’t you?” you speak and scurry off.

He watches your receding figure like he’s lost something. Remus chuckles from behind him, “C’mon loverboy, you can catch her later. Let’s go. Prongs? Wormtail?”

“Comin’!”

“So then he said to me, ‘Merlin, you’re beautiful.’ Beautiful- not pretty or hot or cute, beautiful!” Lily gushes to you and you grin, yawning as you finish your Transfiguration homework. 

“Tell me more, then?”

She squeals. 

–

One thing about Sirius Black was that he was never one to give up, nor one to know when to either. So he persisted, even though there was nothing to persist for. You were already more than his. But when you came sniffling to Lily, sobbing about something, he felt something genuine, more genuine than he had ever felt for anybody before. 

“Lily, they mark so inconsistently,” you cried, “I worked so hard on this and I only got 90%! What sort of utter absurdity is this!?”

“Why don’t you take a nice relaxing shower and we’ll have a girls’ night, eh?” Lily smiled tenderly at you. 

“The first part is okay,” you sighed, “But all I want is to mope.”

Lily grins suddenly, “Okay, you do that.” 

You hear murmuring as you finish up your shower feeling much more relaxed. 

Then, there isn’t a sisterly presence in the room but one that is very familiar.

“Deja vu, isn’t it?” he strides in confidently. 

You sigh, “I’m sorry, you really don’t need to be here. I know Lils conscripted you but even I know that it’s terribly unpleasant to deal with a grieving girl.”

“Not if it’s you, love,” he says so genuinely. 

“Stop, Sirius,” you whispered softly. 

“Stop what?” he looked at you worriedly.

“Stop being so nice to me,” you tear up, “You can’t be serious about it.”

“Oh darling–”

“And stop calling me that,” you mumble, “It’s making me feel worse.”

“I can’t help it, they slip through.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, I’m a mess right now.” 

“Hey, gorgeous, it’s okay.” 

He lingers awkwardly. 

“You can sit,” you pat a spot next to you.

“Thanks,” he says as the bed dips, “I really do enjoy soft things, but I was sinking in your floor.”

You laugh.

He just stares inquisitively at you- perhaps a little different to the way you’ve noticed him glance at anybody before. You stare at him back, imitating the intensity of the looks he always gave you, and everyone else too. He turns really, really red. All Sirius wants is to hold you, you look so soft right now. 

You both talk for a little bit, and he’s charming. He’s very smooth and half of his remarks either sound too flirtatious or too genuine. It’s hard to tell with him. 

You glance at the clock ticking away.

“It’s getting late,” you start, “You should probably turn in for the night.”

Sirius is beaming at you, but never stops, “Mm?”

“I don’t know about you but I feel awful when I don’t get enough sleep.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep. You can stay here if you want, but if I drift off or Lily comes in snogging James, it isn’t my problem.”

“Okay. Did you hear about how the…”

Your eyelids begin to flutter shut, the day’s troubles forgotten as you fall asleep. 

After he’s sure that you’re sleeping, Sirius smiles softly, heaping the covers over your body and shutting off the lights. 

He leaves soon enough, and is met with a grateful Lily, who pats him on the back and hands him a chocolate frog. He unwraps it quickly and groans. 

“Awh, Dumbledore again!?”

--

“So Sirius flies down to the third gauge of the pitch, allowing Finlay to break free from opp. Marlene you trick your way into second, and Keys, you’re going to be hovering just before left hoop.”

“That’s Set 8. I’ll hold up fingers to indicate which one. We need to randomise them. Everyone got it?”

Murmurs of “Got it,” echo around the room. 

“Training dismissed. Thanks team, see you Friday on the pitch for training.”

Sirius waits for James as he shoves water bottles, red tape, blue tape, green tape, sunscreen into his kit bag. He lugs his own bag over his shoulder, nodding to Madam Hooch as she locks up the pitch. In the distance, he can hear two female voices.

“Ladies,” Hooch calls, “It’s past 11.”

“Sorry ma’am,” he hears your voice, “We were studying at the library. It ran over time.”

“Of course. Run along, wouldn’t want a prefect to find you.”

Snickering. 

“Girls?”

“Right, sorry ma’am,” your voice again, “We’re on our way.”

James gives Sirius a pointed look. Sirius scowls back. 

“Potter, Black, you too.”

“Potter?” you tease Lily, loud enough to be heard.

“Shut up, stupid,” Lily nudges you and you giggle. 

“Thank merlin that I took a shower. Do I look alright, mate?” James offers Sirius the question.

“I can’t see anything, Prongs.”

“Imagine.”

Sirius makes a retching noise and James flips him off. “You’re insufferable.”

“Hey, you’re picking up on her vocab too!” 

“Evans!” he jogs towards her and seeing her books clutched in her hand he offers his arm, “May I?”

You know when you’re not welcome in a situation and are chatting Madam Hooch’s ear off.

“And I told him, I’m no Quidditch player-”

“Oh really,” Hooch jokes, “Who would’ve thought?”

“Ma’am, have you seen these guns?”

“Says the Cannons supporter.”

“What, you go for, what, the Appleby Apples?”

“Arrows.”

“Appleby.”

“You’re infuriating, but you’re cute,” Hooch smiles coyly.

“Gee, thanks ma’am, you think I can pop in for a cookie next time? I heard yours are real good.”

“‘Course. Now goodnight.”

“Night!”

You walk fast through the castle. It’s cold, daunting and very dark. With the steep light of your wand and the candles from the Great Hall, it’s eerie, even. You shiver and quicken your pace, pulling your jumper closer to your body. 

“Hey sweet thing, you okay?” Sirius saunters to you and you wrinkle your nose at him. Darn him, he has long legs. And a whole quidditch bag full of heavy things he can use as his arsenal. And his hair is pulled back into a bun, strands falling out of place, quidditch jumper on. He looks very soft gazing at you like this, brows furrowed in concern. 

“It’s a treacherous world out there,” you smile. 

He smiles back, very comfortingly, “It is, isn’t it? If I didn’t have this bag of spiky beater equipment I’d be knocking on Minnie’s door. I’ll take your books. And be your personal bodyguard.”

“Thanks Sirius.”

“Anything for you.”

To his surprise, you slip a hand through his arm and curl it around his bicep. He’s a goner, he’s crimson but he’s lucky you don’t seem to notice. “You dote on all your girls?”

He just smiles to himself, shaking his head, “I don’t have as many ‘girls’ as you think.” 

“That means you dote on all of them,” you grin.

“I only have one.”

“Oh? You’ve settled?” You removed your hand so as to not cause trouble. 

“Not yet,” he says as you reach the common room and climb in,“C’ya beautiful!” He walks away to the Gryffindor quidditch team’s bathroom. 

You sit flusteredly down at a table, even though Sirius hasn’t done anything in particular, covering your warm face with your hands. 

–

Very few plates are clinking and no cutlery is being dropped onto the table with a dull thud at breakfast, given it is early. You slide in next to Dorcas at the Slytherin table. “Morning!” you greet as she gives you a smile. 

“Where’s everyone else?” you ask, and before she can answer you smirk, “Oh I forgot, it’s 6am and only the young rise so late!” 

You both beam at each other and giggle. 

“What’s got you looking very fine in a princess dress?” you ask Dorcas and she grins. 

“Marlene’s taking me out tonight. Wanna do my hair later?”

“Obviously. After prefect duty.”

“You got it, boss.”

You clatter down your cutlery, contemplating Sirius Black. Knocking on the door, you shake your head. Boys are just boys. You shouldn’t think about them.

“Deep in thought, sweetie?” Pomfrey bustles as she tends to patients. 

“Hi ma’am!” You jolt out of your thoughts and quickly tie on an apron, “What’s it today? Hey Charlie!”

Charlie waves at you, busy with making sandwiches, “Sleep well?”

“Yup, you?”

“Excellent.”

Pomfrey handed you some ointment, “Show Charlotte Cooper how to put this on, will you? She’s got a burn. Black, don’t you dare move! You’re troubling me enough!” 

You swivel around and meet eyes with Sirius. He’s got the tiniest cut on his face, just grazing his temple, and is clutching a bruise on his hand. 

“Bludger clipped me,” he laments. 

“Tough one,” Charlie sympathises, “Mate, you gotta try this topical cream for those cuts, I always use them for when the bludger isn’t treating me well.”

“Really, bro, I don’t usually fraternise with the enemy,” you scoff as you help a first-year lay on a thick layer of ointment, “But yeah sure mate.”

“Here, let me get it for you.” Charlie digs around in his pocket and pulls out a tiny little jar, “Catch, dude.”

“Thanks my guy. Love you.”

“Is this how they act all the time?” The first-year whispers to you. 

You laugh, “Lottie, this is just guys.”

“Are they in love?”

“Very much so.”

“Are you jelly?” 

“How could I be?”

“You like Siri!”

“I do not, Lottie.”

“Charles!” Pomfrey yells, “You’re distracting my patient. Make your sandwiches! Oh my Merlin, Zabini!”

Noel Zabini was on fire as he yelped. “The charm hasn’t worn off yet!” 

Pomfrey points at you whilst frantically putting out the fire, “Patch him up!”

Charlotte giggles, “Ooooh…”

You clamp her mouth shut before she starts singing, washing your hands. You size Sirius up whilst drying them. He laughs heartily. 

“Now don’t patronise the poor girl or I’ll make Charles do it.”

Sirius shuts up. You dip a cotton swab into iodine solution, turning to him. He’s quite tall, not Remus tall but still quite a height away from you. 

“Please take a seat,” you smile at him.

He shakes his head. 

“Take a seat, mate, it shows off your eyes,” Charlie calls as he washes up plates. 

Sirius sits, “Mate, I’d totally marry you.”

“Pfft, dude, I would too but have you seen my girlfriend? She’s to die for.”

“True. I mean, I don’t mean your girlfriend, but uh-”

“Oh my gosh, be quiet,” you shut his mouth for him, “Now stay still, ‘kay?”

You dab carefully at his cut. “Good news, it’s clotting and it’ll probably heal in 3 days. I’ll put a bandaid on it and it’s all good.”

Madam Pomfrey gives you an amused look as he looks up at you from where he sits. 

“It’ll heal better if it gets kissed.”

You snicker, “You’re right. Charlie?”

“Not him,” Sirius grimaced.

“I may truly adore Sirius but I refuse.” 

You smile, “Then, you’ll have to go without, Sirius. Knuckles now.”

He pushes his hand out and you inspect them and wince. “That must hurt.”

You dab a little soothing cream on them and band aid them up. Then you hand him a mirror. He’s got a nice invisible bandaid on his face and princess ones on his knuckles. 

“At least you could’ve gotten me the horse from Tangled.”

“You’re all good to go, Sirius.”

“No pain meds?”

You sigh, “Nope, now off you go.”

“Thanks, lovely girl.”

You’re already onto patching Lucius Malfoy up, as a concerned Narcissa sits by.

“He’s going to be okay, don’t worry.”

“Are you sure? He copped a pretty big knock.”

“I’ll clean up his wounds and we’ll see what we can do about that concussion, okay?”

–

“Thanks for the rounds, Charlie,” you part ways with him on the way to your common rooms.

“Charlie!” His girlfriend calls, “Hey babe!” she says to you. 

“Hey Val!”

After exchanging some friendly words, you scramble to find Dorcas, Marlene, Lily, James, Remus, Remus’ friend Gertrude, Peter, Mary, Alice, Frank, Sirius crammed into your dorm room, bustling and getting ready for Hogsmeade. 

“Oh thank Merlin.” A curling iron is handed to you. 

“What do we need this for?” 

James gestures to Lily. 

“Okay.”

You quickly curl Lily’s hair for her, straighten Marlene’s, twist Dorcas’ braids into a ponytail with a white ribbon, braid Alice’s hair, help Gertrude pick out a dress and put faux freckles on Mary plus choose a lipstick shade for her. Then you straighten James’ hair, laugh for a good ten minutes and curl it back because there’s nothing like a traumatised Lily Evans. 

You finally sit down and-

“My cut hurts, gorgeous,” Sirius mutters to you. 

You rub your eyes, “Okay.”

“Please?”

You don’t act as though you’ve given in, but you kiss his temple very lightly. 

“Happy?”

Sirius shakes his head stubbornly, pushing out his knuckles. You kiss them too. He’s suddenly overcome with affection for you and surges forward, wrapping his arms around you. He’s warm and kind and smells nice too. The jumper he’s wearing is soft. 

“You really didn’t have to,” he mutters into your hair, “But thank you, love.”

“What’s got you so soft?” You grin at him. 

“Yeah, what’s got you so soft?” James calls.

“Oh come on boys, let’s go to Hogsmeade!” Lily links arms with you and pulls you up. In the flurry that follows you don’t have enough time to put your coat back on. 

“Well darn aren’t you cold?” Lily asks as you shiver. 

“Yeah, forgot to bring a jumper,” you frown, “It’s okay, I’ve been meaning to get a new sweater anyway.” Lily gives a very intentional glance towards Sirius, who is currently laughing with Mary. 

He sobers up, making an “i’m in trouble” face at Mary. 

“Are you sure?” Lily says loudly, “I mean it’s really cold and you haven’t got anything on. I’m sure one of us could give you a layer. Here,” she shrugs out of her jacket, and glares at Sirius. 

Sirius intervenes, “I don’t think that’ll be necessary, Lily, you keep that on.”

He places his jacket on your shoulders, takes off his scarf and drapes it around your neck. 

“There. Perfect.” He looks at you right in your eyes. You blink.

“Thanks, Sirius.”

“Let’s go to The Three Broomsticks!” James shouts. 

The bell tinkles as you enter. The group sits down, bustling with joy. 

“12 Butterbeers please, ma’am,” James orders as you lean into Lily, chatting merrily with her, stealing glances at Sirius, who never seems to return them. 

But when things between Lily and James become very romantic, you turn to Sirius, who’s next to James, Butterbeer untouched.

“You okay there?” 

He smiles, “Yeah.”

“Well what are you thinking about?”

“How screwed I am.”

“For what?” 

“Can you come with me?” 

He’s urgent in his tone and you immediately pop up. You’re about to dig into your pockets to find your wallet but he stops you. “No need.” He puts three galleons on the table. 

The wind bites at your face outside, and you question the need for such a location to talk. It’s cold and the wind blows at your face at an ungodly angle and you know you look absurd in a jacket falling past your thighs, scarf oversized too but wrapped too many times around your neck and hair. Snow falls onto your eyelashes. It’s all a magnificent juxtaposition to Sirius, warmly smiling at you, grey eyes a shade more gold. 

“I swear if you brought me out here in the freezing cold just to tell me that the earth is round I will personally-”

“Please tell me you like me like I like you. Everyone else says you do but I don’t know,” he rambles. 

“How’d you like me?”

“More than anyone and differently to everyone.”

“You like me?”

He nods slowly. He’s huddled with you under blinding snow, his back intentionally shielding you from the direction of the harsh sleet and hands on the sides of your hips. 

You reach your arms to hang clumsily around his neck. He swallows. 

“Do you reciprocate my feelings?” he asks tenderly. 

You laugh lightly. “You really would think that I don’t?” You tippytoe, barely reaching his lips. You see a little uncertainty flicker in his eyes. You soften, relaxing. “Of course I do.” You nestle your head in the crook of his neck. There’s a gentle fragrance you find there. Maybe it could be your boyfriend’s cologne. “Can we be dating then?” you glance hopefully at him. 

A look of shock escapes onto his face, “You want to be dating me?”

“Please?” 

“Oh sweetheart, of course we can be.”

“So will you be my boyfriend?”

A sweet smile found its way onto Sirius’ lips. “Yeah. That would be nice.”

“I’ve been meaning to go to Brook’s. Will you come with me?” Brook’s was a lovely girly spot with clothes and beverages and books and sometimes other girls you could talk to. 

Sirius stares off for a bit. No one’s ever asked him to accompany them to Brook’s, as simple as it sounds and there’s a pang of fondness for you. It’s said so undemandingly too.

“I know it’s a lot of pink and frills and stuff, so it’s okay-”

“I’ll go. I don’t mind girly.” 

You beam at him, “Really?”

“I’d go anywhere for you, sweet thing.”

[isaaujulii]

WHY GOD WHY COULDN’T THEY TREAT ALL THEIR CHARACTERS WITH RESPECT. The source material is endlessly fascinating and riddled with interesting storylines that can be followed and or improved upon(within reason) . Like you have the knight without honor whose only true light is a queen who he can never have. A woman whose life is tied to the men around her, which is her circumstance but she does nothing to try to help or ruin them but laments her part in everything. And i’m not saying the story can’t be built upon the relationship between rhaenyra and alicent.

It’s a great place to start. START. It can’t be just about them. Why don’t we see Jaeharys and the pressure he feels as a bastard and a possible future king. What about halaenas mental state her visions, and the fact she lost a whole child. And how come all of a sudden Aemond is kinslaying psychopath whose only goal is to become king, is there no internal conflict. Where’s that remorse and horror we saw at the end of season 1. Aegon is being made fun of every second and being ignored (and before u come at me i know he is a pos rapist, not defending him) nobody sees him as a threat even though he is QUITE LITERALLY THE KING.

Alicent is on her sad girl bs. And I LIKE ALICENT. Do you know how hard it is to make me dislike a character I originally loved. I thought her character was heading into an interesting direction feeling guilt and remorse about her actions because it is against everything she believes in. Because AGAIN they have hammered into the viewers that she is a religious. But she just becomes whishy washy. And not an active participant.

And don’t get me started on our titular protagonist a one Rhaneyra Targaryen. Have I mentioned my dislike at the obvious bias towards team black. Also why are there teams why is everything black and white. I don’t know about yall but I thought the whole point was there is no good and evil and that killing your family for a crown is wrong and morally unjust so therefore anyone participating in the war (as in anyone who has a choice, not the small folk forced to fight and stuff) is already not the greatest person. So i don’t know why they are acting like Rhaneyra is the goddamn messiah. They’re trying to make her a Daenerys variant. She’s not Dany and she shouldn’t be forced to be. Like their trying to make her a reasonable person who only wants best for people around her but she is also someone actively participating in a war with DRAGONS and as everyone keeps repeating there isn’t a war as bloody as one with dragons. And look i love a little hypocrisy in my characters i eat it up but this is ridiculous. You want a war so be in it. And if you don’t want to work with some people tough shit, you need others to get things done. And god forbid they challenge you on anything.

And look I tried to ignore it as much as i could but, do they hate men. Like genuinely asking, because every man in this show with the exception of like 2 characters is immensely unlikeable. And i’m not saying you can’t have unlikeable men. But like it’s a bit of a pattern. The women are the ones trying to avoid war and the men are all gung ho to lose their lives. Like i think they were trying to be feminist by making the women the only reasonable ones and men unreasonable. But they were so feminist that it came around to being misogynistic. Which i didn’t think could happen. And this being pseudo medieval time period with misogyny and all that it seems like there are parts where they are just like forcing patriarchy and other parts it does not seem to exist. Like equality is the norm and patriarchy is the outlier. Like there were women in charge of houses, which is not abnormal in of itself but like they don’t explain it. Like they could’ve been like the lord of that house is ill and his lady-wife takes care of everything. Or been like she’s in the fighting because she has a talent for it and is a bastard. Like I don’t know if any of you have seen the show Black Sails but one of the characters Eleanor basically runs pirate island and that doesn’t make sense because it the 1700’s but it’s explained that her father put her in charge because she was raised there and had a mind for business. And I know it’s a sad thing to be like a woman can only have power in proximity to a man. But like aren’t they going for realism, that’s what was so intriguing about the game of thrones universe. How people given shit circumstances rise above them. And some of these people happen to be women. If this was like one of those comfy fantasy with like fantasy creatures and like loose plots and there aren’t really rules and modern sensibilities are ingrained then I could dig it. Like yah you go girl be a pirate and you be a merchant and you are an advisor to the king. abut this isn’t that. And I can already see how an argument can be made that the entire show is overcoming the circumstances of your birthright being taken because you are a woman. Which I will reply that like I said earlier in order to do that they need the women to have agency and push for it or let it go. Which is options that Rhaneyra has.

And maybe i’m wrong and all those loose plot threads and bizarre character choices will payoff in season 3 and i’ll be the weirdo who doubted them.

[simplyholl]

A Christmas Wish [Loki x F. Reader]

Summary: A drunken confession at a Christmas party leads to delightful consequences. 

Pairing: President Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY. Dub Con. Choking. Rough Sex.

W/C: 1.2K

Part of The Winter Warmers Collection

See my Masterlist here

The overplayed Christmas music filled the large room in the White House. I examine my handiwork, mistletoe hung in every doorway, far too many overdecorated trees, and lights I carefully placed along the walls. It had taken me all week to get it perfect. My boss, President Loki had demanded it be the best holiday party the White House had ever seen.

As his personal assistant, I never handled any important matters. My job mostly consisted of scheduling his appointments, getting his meals, coffee, and anything he deemed too insignificant to bother anyone else with. In other words, I’m his lackey. I would have quit long ago, but I couldn’t stand to be away from him. He is the most attractive man I have ever seen, almost otherworldly. He is endlessly charming. He wouldn’t be so successful, if he wasn’t. There’s also a dark side to him that he hides from the public. He can be arrogant, bossy, and mean. I have seen him fire people for walking in the room in a way he deemed unbecoming of his brand. But he had always been kind to me.

I know, it’s such a cliché to have a crush on your boss. But he has that effect on women. Every woman in our office is under his spell. It’s like the Bachelor every day, the way they fight for his attention. Even the older ladies dote on him, making sure he eats and baking him sweets.

 “Y/N, this is wonderful. Exactly what I imagined for the party. Everyone I have spoken to loves the decorations. You have outdone yourself. Make sure you enjoy yourself tonight. You deserve a break.” Loki pats me on the back. His attention is taken off me when a leggy brunette walks by. “If you’ll excuse me, Y/N, I must see to my guests.”

I find my friends, Emma, Hannah, and Meg. They work on Loki’s campaign team. They have been working overtime, since he is up for re-election. They are taking shots; their laughter rings out above the music. “Y/N, you need to get started, you’re a few shots behind.” They hand me a glass; Meg fills it to the top. I press it to my lips; the alcohol burns my throat on the way down. I repeat the process four more times. Loki did tell me to enjoy myself and I’m having a blast with my girls.

“President Hottie was looking extra fine tonight.” Hannah slurs. “Y/N, I don’t know how you are with him every day, and still haven’t tried to sleep with him.” Emma interjects. “It’s not that I don’t want to, he’s just not into me. He’s had plenty of opportunities when we are alone, but he has never made a move.” “Ugh! Can we change the subject? I’ve had enough of his royal highness to last a lifetime.” Meg whines. “What do you all want for Christmas this year?”

Emma thinks about it for a moment, “I told my husband I wanted a new tablet for work.” “I’m hoping for a new handbag.” Hannah says. “What about you, Y/N?” “I don’t think there is anything I want this year.” Meg looks shocked. “There’s nothing you want? Come on, if you could have anything in the world, what would be your Christmas wish?” The effects of the alcohol have taken over. I’m just as surprised as the girls when I say, “All I want for Christmas is for Loki to rip this dress off me.” They giggle and squeal with delight at my answer. The fun stops when a large hand appears on my shoulder.

“Y/N, I require your presence for a moment.” My soul leaves my body when I realize my boss just heard my inappropriate comment about him. I am absolutely getting fired. I’m right behind him, my head hung in shame. He leads me away from the party into his office. I wait for him to shut the door before profusely apologizing.

“Sir, I am so sorry. I don’t usually drink this much, and the girls – “ “Kneel.” He interrupts me with his command. “What?” “Don’t make me tell you again, pet.” I notice his erection straining against his pants as I sink in front of him. “Do you wish to please me, pet?” I nod my head yes. “Of course, you do. Always so good for me, exceeding my expectations. You look so pretty on your knees for me. I want your mouth, sweet girl.”

I unbutton his pants freeing him. I reach for his length, pumping gently while taking him in my mouth. He is way bigger than I’m used to. I gag as he thrusts too deep. I flick my tongue tracing the veins along his glorious manhood. I relax my throat taking all of him. I hollow my cheeks sucking as he pulls my hair, guiding me. He moans my name as I slurp his tip, my hand working the rest of him. He thrusts harder hitting the back of my throat causing me to choke. He doesn’t stop. I hold onto his strong thighs for support. His thrusts become sloppy letting me know he’s close. His grip on my hair tightens. He slams roughly into my throat. He places one finger under my chin lifting my head. I look up meeting his gaze. “Swallow.” He commands as the warm liquid slides down my throat. He helps me off the floor.

I notice he is still hard. His hungry eyes trail over my body. He takes a step forward; strong hands grip my dress. It feels like he barely tugs on the material, but it comes apart in his hands as slides it down my body. He strips me of my underwear. “I have fulfilled your Christmas wish. Now you can grant mine.” He reaches between my thighs, swiping a long finger down my center. “So wet for me. I haven’t touched you yet. Choking on your President’s cock has ruined you already.”

He picks me up, slamming my body against the cool wall. He sucks bruises against my neck. I squirm in his arms, moaning his name.  I tangle my hands in his raven curls. I grab the band of his head piece. I try to remove it so I can see his face better. He clutches my wrist stopping me. “The horns stay on.” He growls. He forcefully thrusts into me. I cry out, placing one hand on his muscled arm, the other holds the right horn of his head piece.

He holds me against the wall his expert fingers circle my clit. “You take me so well. So good for me.” My legs shake as he pounds into me. “Loki I’m gonna come. I…” “Come for me. Let your president have all of you. Let me claim you.” I come undone with his words.

He grasps my hips using me as his human sex doll, fucking me relentlessly. My body slams against the wall with every thrust. He wraps his porcelain hand around my neck squeezing tightly. His moans are music to my ears. He comes apart panting against my neck. He places me back on my feet. He removes his suit jacket tossing it to me as I collect my underwear from the floor. “You can leave out the back.” He adjusts himself zipping his pants and straightening his clothes. He opens the door taking one last look at my disheveled appearance. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

Tags

@lokisgoodgirl @sarahscribbles​ @fictive-sl0th​

[whatwouldvalerydo]

Regret me, regret us

Don't ask. I slept almost 3 hours and while I sat down to write my fun mini story this happened after a while.

Talia and Talbott.

That's all the hurt in two names right there.

“I want a divorce.”

Talia inhaled with her entire body as she hung her coat. She didn’t expect a greeting and a kiss on the lips, those things just disappeared. It happened gradually. So slow it was almost imperceptible. His lips lingered less and less, a kiss turned to a peck, eyes drifting, open, sleeping back to back turning to sleeping on the couch or not at home.

She didn’t want to admit she was the problem. Because that would have meant those few precious moments they still had were forced. She didn’t want to look at him and see resentment. For all those times away, for Talbott sitting at home walking back and forth with Dorian in his arms screaming and crying endlessly because she wasn’t there.

A mission and then another, an endless struggle, an impossible to quench instinct of keeping them safe. Of not allowing anyone to touch them, to hinder them.

“Say that again.” She tested the waters, waiting for his voice to waver, but when it didn’t as he repeated the sentence, her nails dug in the palm of her hands, eyes widening for a second. Still looking, still waiting for the moment he would crack “I see.” She felt her veins burning from the inside out and she wished in that moment that it was anger she felt, because then her eyes would change and he would know she’s mad.

But it wasn’t that.

There was no anger and she hated it. The feeling spreading through her like the wildfire she carried, but as she cast a glance at the hallway mirror, there wasn’t fire dancing in her eyes, but the threat of tears. And she crawled inside of her hallowed chest, searching for reasons to fault him, to hate him. The man she had loved, the only one she really cared for.

“No.”

“It’s not up to you Talia.” Her name didn’t sound sweet coming from the mouth she had kissed so many times “This is my decision.”

“Yours?” there it was, her pride winning, a last layer she didn’t even know still remained because his words shattered everything to pieces before she could even conjure her defenses “Hmm.” She swallowed thickly taking a step forward, the light of the kitchen bathing her, yet she appeared almost translucent as she sat there and there it was, his jaw clenching slightly, eyes softening the tiniest fraction.

An out. A something. There was something and yet there wasn’t.

“Yes, my decision. I want to separate from you. We have been in one way or another for so long. Me at school, you out there coming home looking like…” he gestured at her and she knew. The blood on her skin was hers and another’s. Dirt. Sweat. Grime. Dust. Everything was there for him to see.

“No.” she said again as she searched his expression and he caught on, he knew, turning away like he rehearsed it when she was away “You know why I’m away. You know why I fight, why I continue to be an Auror when you could not.” There it was, her voice rising, the anger he betted on.

“I can protect Dorian at Hogwarts.”

“No.” she shook her head, anger simmering. Because he didn’t see, he wasn’t there, on the outside to see what remained. How infected people still were. How most that remained were planning and plotting and digging with their filth infected nails at anything that could spark another war.

“Yes I can. But this isn’t about him, it’s about us.” The word coming out strained “I submitted the papers, all you have to do is sign.” And then her eyes followed his gaze, documents waiting on the table.

“You’re lying. There’s something more.”

“Oh please.” He tried to mock her, but his body language told a different story.

She wanted to reach out and touch him but she knew he would recoil, instantly, in a flash, just like that. It took everything out of him for him to sit there, with her, going through with his plan.

“Why?” the question she didn’t wish to address but still did “Tell me the real reason and I’ll sign. I’ll go. But I need to know.”

“I told you.”

“You told me shit Talbott.” She snapped, closing the space between them, watching him take a step back “Tell me the truth. Tell me what’s going on. Tell me the reality you can’t face.”

Her. It was her. Her all along.

“You need to go. Just go.”

“Why?” her body shook, but it still wasn’t anger. Oh what she wouldn’t give for her soul to feel anger.

And he struggled, his eyes looking at anything other than her “We aren’t forever Talia, you are.” His gorgeous eyes locked with hers “You are, not me. I don’t need that. I don’t need you.” she took a step back for once, eyes averting, teeth digging at the inside of her cheek because she knew what he was saying, but she still wanted to hear him say it.

“Because of what I am?”

“Yes.” And there it was “How long can you keep up appearances? How many times can you wake up hours before facing the world to put makeup on to try and make yourself look older? How many more days can you sleep next to me while I fall asleep reading a book when the sun sets and snore keeping you up at night? How much more can you endure? How much more can I?”

Sniffing her nose, she looked at him “You knew.”

“I did. And I was young and I was wrong. So sign the damn papers Talia. I am tired, so tired of this. Of you sitting in the bathroom trying to thin your hair, ripping it out and dying strand per strand white. This is pathetic. We are pathetic. It’s enough. All the love I had, I spent it waiting. Trying to understand, to make sense of us. No more. Just…” he turned his back to her, Talia searching the reflection of him in the kitchen window.

And it broke her heart. She wanted to scream and cry and tear through him like he was nothing. Tasting blood in her mouth from biting down on her own flesh, she inhaled deeply, straightening her posture “I should have turned back. That day at Hogsmeade station when I hesitated, I shouldn’t have.” She wanted to hurt him, show him how pathetic it could really get “I should have left then.” Lifting her chin slightly, she blinked only once despite her eyes burning from tears unspent “I should have fucking spared you the Crane name. But I was weak, allowed you to make me weak.” Walking towards the table, she took the pen and signed with what she hoped appeared to not be hesitation “Here.” Throwing the papers on the floor, her voice came up remarkably low, slow, soft “You’re free.”

“Good.” He nodded not even looking at her.

“Talbott” his name coming from her mouth made his flinch. There were so many words hanging from her tongue. How she loved him, how she knew he still did in a way, how they could have figured out a way, some way, any way. Instead, she turned on her heels and left.

Hallow.

Empty.

Broken.

Once a Winger, once more a Crane.

[liauditore]

For the ship bingo, perhaps ethubs or boatboys?

sorry it took so long to get to this i got so excited someone asked me to talk abt ethubs i went into a coma 😭😭

Ethubs

um uhh umerm ethubs yeah etho and bdubs and last life and mindcrack UHCs and eyah yknow um yeah

you know that one post that's like "inside my head is a five page essay with footnotes and when i speak it's just ouhghh blorbo he is so shaped". that's me with ethubs. not even kidding ethubs is the ship that made me finally "get" shipping in general, mcyt or not. i. words. i care them.

and uh there's. not rlly anything i can say i think that my ethubs moots haven't already said? They've been friends forever, they play off eachother super well, "he loves me", they're both so obsessed and in need of eachother but at the same time would rather eat raw, unpicked cactus than admit that, etc etc they're so unwell

im just gonna skip on over to the song lyrics bit cus i. they make my brain short circuit i cant even sentences.

The scarlet summer is gone and peaceful gray is draping the city Alone, I reach out for you to hold me tight, shivering Always the days spent with you warmed my heart and kept me from freezing Although I knew they were gone forever But in my pain, to me you came like the warmest breeze "On nights so cold I know you need some company."

Though only in lonely and freezing times, we held each other close to keep from feeling hopeless nothings And now again I can see summer fast approaching like a storm that there's no stopping Repeating in a cycle Like our mistakes

My love for you is endless, just like the deepest sea And like the ocean blue your complications speak to me I've come to understand you, your parts and inner workings My sun only in winter Only when I need you or else you won't need me

Leave you in Summer, Yet You're In My Fluffthoughts (Ashe translyrics) (sidenote this might be one of my favourite music videos of all time)

Falling so deeply while clinging to love But even so, I feel my heart and it’s floating up above Your true face, such a passionate one, shows your beauty, coming in a flood True, all of our short-lived youth will someday come to end Ah, even so, in my view, it starts right now, yet again

And every day, I found I prayed for you to be always full of happiness that remains Ah, just like this, please wait right by my side, please stay

Tablet (Will Stetson / sayriris translyrics) (after watching LL the first thing i did was make a MV to this song with LL Bdubs and it was still the most insane thing ive ever done fuelled by pure gargoyle inspiration juice)

I wouldn't say they're ~~Divorced~~ quite yet cus Idk if they were ever really married as much as just plain endlessly obsessed with eachother, which they still are. But they definitely broke up lmao

but yeah uh their chemistry is great. bdubs said it best. they've been thru the trenches together.

Boat Boys

Thankfully much less thoughts about these two or else this post would get way too long lmao. I like them but I'm not too insane about them I guess? Etho's very awkward near people he isn't used to which was fun to watch but made their interactions kind of limited for a lot of DL I feel.

Joel's obsession with Etho is hilarious and seeing Bdubs get jealous of his #1 ethogirl status getting challenged is great fun. He's definitely gone through a bit of an arc from "I KILLED ETHO! I KILLED ETHO!!" in Last Life to "Eefo D:< You're making me nervous, eefo D:<" in Double Life to whatever the cow divorce situation was in Limlife. It seems like Etho's otherworldly status has been nerfed in his head and he's much less intimidated by him, while still admiring him in that 'childhood hero' sorta way.

I think because of that I've always seen them a little bit as more of a mentor/prodigy relationship than anything else? Specifically one that Etho is not even aware he's in. Eitherway, I don't really ship them in the romantic sense 🤷‍♂️ etho's just way too aloof and joel's got too much fangirl energy for it to be anything intimate lol

[the-wip-project]

SloMo WriMo: Confronting Your Fears

There’s a voice in my head. And it’s telling me to stop writing.

It makes me afraid, telling me that my writing is worthless, that there’s no point, that nothing I do matters. That I suck. That I need to check my ego, pretending that I’m any sort of expert in a position to give advice to others. That if I post this then I’ll be opening myself up to attacks by trolls. Why even bother? It says. No one wants to read your ramblings anyway. Why not just keep your ideas in your head? Where it’s safe?

If you’re reading this? It means that once again I’ve beaten the voice back and written anyway.

There’s a lot of names for that voice. Impostor Syndrome, The Critical Voice. The Inner Editor. Writers Block. (Yes, I am including writers block on this list.) The Superconciousness.

And like it or not, we all have a version of it in our heads.

Writers who write often and freely are not magically free of that voice. The only difference is that they (including me— most of the time) have learned how to corral and even shut out that voice.

How? Every writer has a different bag of tricks, but it’s not as simple as using a program that stops you from rewriting, or only writing in sprints. That can be helpful, but treating the symptoms without confronting the problem will eventually lead to failure.

First you have to pay attention to exactly what is that voice in your head whispering to you. (And don’t let it trick you into believing that it’s not like other inner voices, and is actually is helpful, or truthful.)

Everyone’s inner voice is unique, but if you find yourself:

Needing to do just a bit more research before you can start (even though you’ve already accumulated plenty of knowledge on the subject)

Endlessly editing a section (often the opening!) and never moving any further forward

Suddenly bored with a story even though you were excited to write it just a few thousand words ago

Frequently abandoning writing, and having a hard drive full of almost done manuscripts

If you find yourself frequently doing any of those things? Most likely it’s fear stopping you. Fear of what? Again, it’s different for everyone, but here’s some common ones:

What if it’s bad?

What if it’s made fun of?

What if I fail in my vision?

What if I offend someone (reasonably or not) and a twitter mob descends on me with pitchforks and torches?

What if no one wants to read it?

The thing is, on the surface those fears sound very reasonable. If you write something it could be bad, or stupid, or boring, or offensive.

So what should you do in the face of all these risks?

Honestly? There’s really only two options. Quit, or write it anyway.

Me? I’ve decided to face my fears and write anyway. I assume that anyone reading this wants to do that too.

But how?

In the end it comes down to awareness, and permission.

Here’s how it works for me. I get an idea: What if it’s like Leverage, but in SPACE!!!(but in space is a common idea I have lol) I start writing: This is exciting! Writing an ensemble cast is a fun new challenge! And then suddenly I feel like I’ve hit a wall: This sucks. The characters are boring and hackneyed. No one will ever want to read it. How would I even market something like this? Why am I writing this? I should just quit. I have a different idea that’s much better anyway.

Sound familiar?

But ha! It’s familiar to me too. I know those negative thoughts are just the fear voice talking. So I face them: Fears? You might be right. It might be bad. But I’m going to write it anyway.

And I keep repeating that, reminding myself that it’s okay to write something less than perfect, that it’s okay if it’s bad, and that I still want to write this story, until the writing gets fun again. And it does get fun again. For me at least. I’ve had enough practice at this that the fears really only grip me at certain moments. Unfortunately if the fears have a powerful hold on you, you may have to battle them all the way through. Even if that’s the case, every time you beat them, they will get weaker.

And that’s it. It’s three simple steps.

1. Identify your fears, and how they stop you

2. Challenge the negative thoughts, and give yourself permission to write anyway

3. Keep writing

Easy to say, and hard to do! (Of course I’m not a mental health professional, this is simply my experiences. If what you’re dealing with is severe and/or harming you, please seek professional help.)

I'd love to know what you do to confront your fears!

[shanardo13]

Obikin College Au - RA/Don! Obi-Wan/First Year! Anakin - Part Three

Honestly, at this point I should probably just start writing it, but I keep thinking of little ideas for this au and want to keep track of them, so I present to you: Part Three 😈

Link to Part One

Link to Part Two

At this point, they are becoming inseparable - Ahsoka would say insufferable. Both are applicable.

Whenever Anakin has errands to run, he texts Obi-Wan to come with him. Obi-Wan has started to do the same. Now most of their outings involve running errands for each of them.

Anakin: u free? I gotta hit Walmart and get supplies for my project.

Obi-Wan: yeah I’m free. Think u could get it from staples at the mall instead?

Obi-Wan: I wanna go to Sephora and Hot Topic. Need eyeliner and I wanna look at band shirts.

Anakin: omfg 🙄

Anakin: jk jk that sounds perfect! Meet outside subway station in ten?

Obi-Wan: sounds good!

And then they meet in front of the subway station like they planned.

They both bring earbuds to the subway, so really they could listen to their own music, but they never do. Instead they share a pair and sit huddled up together, taking turns picking songs.

They can both be kind of pretentious with music, so they work well together. Despite their differences, they impress each other with their knowledge and love of the same music.

“Anakin, Wings is leagues better than Plastic Ono Band, and anyone who doesn’t think so is just stupid.”

“Oh, McCartney is just bubblegum pop and we both know it, Obi. At least Lennon had substance.”

“Substance abuse issues, maybe.”

“Can we at least agree that Harrison’s work is significantly underrated?”

“Oh definitely. All Things Must Pass is the best post-Beatles solo album in my opinion.”

“Yes! Thank you! Do you want to listen to it?”

When they get to the mall, they immediately head to their favourite little coffee shop in the centre of the food court. Obi-Wan always buys, so Anakin usually makes it up to him by finding him a little gift.

“You just want your regular?”

“Obi-Wan, I’ve told you numerous times. I can afford my own coffee. You don’t have to buy it for me.”

“Shut up, I want to.” He turns to the employee and repeats their drink orders. “And a strawberry danish please!”

They sit in the food court while they drink their beverages and Anakin eats his danish, conversation flowing endlessly. Lots of inside jokes and giggles are shared. Then they continue on with their shopping.

They go to staples first, as Obi-Wan has dubbed it the ‘not-fun’ part of their trip.

“Anakin, you’re getting office supplies for a school project. Boring! Let’s get it out of the way first!”

“Okay, fine.” Anything for you! Literally anything you ask, any time, I would say yes. I’m at your mercy

They grab what Anakin needs at Staples and then head to Sephora.

Obi-Wan spends far too long sifting through various shades of black eyeliner. They all look the same.

“Anakin, which is better? ‘Midnight’ or ‘Jet Black’?” He holds up two pencils.

Anakin studies them. He tries really hard to spot a difference between them and to subsequently make a decision.

“Uhh… I guess, ‘Midnight’ ?” He suggests, pointing to ‘Jet Black’.

Afterwards they head to Hot Topic to look at the band shirts. This has both of them captivated.

“Anakin, it’s buy three get the fourth free. If we each pick two we can get the deal and then just split the cost for the rest.”

“Yes, Obi-Wan, I understand. But what if we each picked four?”

“You don’t need four new shirts!!!”

They settle on each getting two. When Anakin buys Obi-Wan a cool chain necklace with a scorpion on it that he had been eyeing, it’s only as a repayment for the coffee. Nothing else.

When Obi-Wan buys Anakin a pair of dangly sword earrings, it’s only because he thinks they would look really good on Anakin and he’s not too bashful to admit it. He wasn’t going to spend any time thinking about what that might mean.

“Please put them on! They totally suit you!”

“Oh fine!” Anakin obliges. They’re in the washroom after leaving Hot Topic. He puts the earrings on, as Obi-Wan watches him in the mirror.

“See! You look hot, Ani.”

“Oh, fuck off.” He mutters, blushing a fierce red as the two of them maintain eye contact in the mirror. You can’t just say something like that and expect me to be normal about it!

So Anakin walks around the mall, sword earrings proudly on display.

They go to Indigo because Obi-Wan is an English major and is passionate about literature. He wants to buy a book for Anakin to read so they can talk about it.

“I think you’ll really like Slaughterhouse-Five. Vonnegut is a very satirical author, and I think you’ll appreciate his dark sense of humour. Plus, it has science fiction elements! He uses aliens and a warped concept of time to highlight the trauma and impact of war. You’ll love it!”

“It sounds cool! I’ll give it a go!”

Anakin likely would have never picked it up on his own, but the way Obi-Wan’s eyes lit up and the pace of his speech quickened as he spoke with great passion about the novel made it entirely worth reading.

After the mall, they go to the park together. They sit down at a spot under a tree. Obi-Wan leans against the tree. He grabs a journal from his book bag and begins writing in it - just lil poems and thoughts. Definitely not about Anakin.

Anakin stretches out and rests his head on Obi-Wan’s lap. He starts reading the copy of ‘Slaughterhouse-Five’ that Obi-Wan bought for him.

They sit there for a long time in silence, each focusing on their own task but enjoying each others company.

Eventually Obi-Wan stops writing, putting his journal away in his bag.

The sun is starting to set, and as he glances down at Anakin, he notices how it highlights his features.

He notices the warmth of his skin brightened by the light - the gold of his curls enunciated in the glow.

He reaches down and rakes his fingers through the curls as Anakin continues reading.

“Thank you for today. Trips like this mean everything to me.” You mean everything to me.

Anakin stops where he’s reading and folds the corner of the page. Obi-Wan winces - he would never damage a book like that.

Anakin looks up at him, leaning into the fingers in his hair, practically purring. It’s enough to stop Obi-Wan from cursing him for folding the pages of a book.

“Of course, Obi. Things are always more fun with you.” He hums.

Obi-Wan smiles down at him, giving his scalp light scratches. I’m not thinking about kissing him.

“You’re like a little cat.” He ruffles his locks before pulling his hand away. He gives Anakin’s nose a boop.

Anakin huffs and pulls himself into a sitting position so they’re face to face. He stares at Obi-Wan for a moment, a devilish grin spreading across his face.

Suddenly, he stands up, reaching for Obi-Wan’s hand. “C’mon.” He says.

“Oh, what now?” Obi-Wan groans and grabs the offered hand, allowing himself to be pulled up.

“You’re going to buy me ice cream from the stand over there!” Anakin beams, interlocking their fingers and pointing to an ice cream cart in the distance.

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes but can’t control the smile tugging at his lips.

And so they go to the cart. Obi-Wan buys Anakin an ice cream cone. He wouldn’t do it if it didn’t make him happy - or rather, if it didn’t make Anakin happy which in turn made him happy.

As Anakin devours the cone they make their way back to the subway station. Their hands stay intertwined the entire way.

Mindlessly, Obi-Wan rubs his thumb up and down against Anakin’s palm.

All in all, it was quite a perfect day.

I promise at some point I’ll actually start writing this - I can’t promise I won’t post more of these before that though. 😎

[ky0endul4yne]

𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐃 ,, ‘ for eternity

The Task Force 141 shows their adoration for you in ways that they only can.

tags ; Fluff, Ghost being Ghost, Soap is a lovable idiot, Gaz is just a sweetheart, Price is (gegrhwvrhehe I love him so much it makes me cry) such a romantic, this is just me and my agenda of staying delulu is the solulu, reader is gn, domestic life, mentions of previous operations (that I made up), and tooth-rotting fluff, my bad y'all English is not my first language,,

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐒 — Kyle “Gaz” Garrick.

Gaz lures you in as he embraces you from behind, snuggling his head gently onto the crook of your neck, taking in the comfortable scent that eases him to just relax, be calm—he feels at peace with you, he loves moments like these where he could see you smiling at him, calling him by his name with the sweetest of tones like it's a pleasant harmony.

When you saw him knocking on your doorsteps from before, he looked like a lost puppy seeking out its owner—he was excited to tell you that he finally had a break after he went through some,, missions that he would rather not discuss about. Of course, you being the sweetheart you are, you only invited him just in time for dinner.

He lets you wear his trusty cap that he had with him always, complimenting you on how you looked good when you wear it, fully convinced that you should take it.

“Y'know you remind me of a lot of something,” he says in your ear with such a breathtaking voice, it makes your heart skip a beat every time he does that. “On my way home, I thought I would stop by at a shop, and then I brought you this.”

He pulls a bouquet of beautiful and vibrant sunflowers; he has this charming smile with him to fully convince you. He is such a dear to the point that you can't say the words that would suit how much he's so caring for you. “These sunflowers remind me of your personality and yourself, you're so warm.”

“I love these,” you say to him, he gives you the bouquet and kisses you on the cheek. “And I love you.”

And I love you.

It's enough for Gaz to be head over heels for you in an almost repeating cycle—he can't help it! He is a lovestruck man, he loves you more than anything else, if you wished, he would tattoo every single word of endearment that you say in his body as a sign of commitment, but then you would just cackle at the sight of it and tease him endlessly.

He guides you near the windows, the sun begins to sink down—giving a stroke of beautifully weaven colors of pink, orange, yellow and a slight tinge of red in the sky—it's astounding, sunsets have always fascinated you.

“They also remind me of you, love,” he says at the moment. “You're so vibrant, colorful, fun and I can't absolutely trade you for anything else—I really love you, [name], I really do.”

Facing the sunset through your square-shaped windows, he pulls you into a romantic kiss, he swears his promises to you of a beautiful life and a little bit rowdy one with him, because these moments are just blueprints of a greater masterpiece, ready to be made and to be seen by everyone else.

[waltwhitmansbeard]

Vaxleth + being an expert in teasing the other

2. being an expert in teasing the other this is gonna be cr, in the year gap!

Vax has never had so much time to do with as he pleased. Since he and Vex left Syngorn, there has always been something to do, something to steal, some need to fulfill. For years now, Vox Machina has been rushing from one emergency to the next, fighting beholders or vampires or fucking dragons, all to make the world a better place, and now it is, and Vax has nothing but time.

So he spends his days doing what he loves best: watching Keyleth be amazing. She's fallen into her role as Tempest far more naturally than she had predicted (not him; nothing could surprise him less than her success as her people's leader), and as a result she is often called all over Tal'dorei to help with this project or that. She takes these request in stride, hoping to open Zephrah up to more collaboration with other cities and towns across the continent. It often leaves her exhausted and aching for home, but she is doing good work, and he is so endlessly proud of her.

Today, though, he does not have to share her with some city council or demanding town mayor. Today, she has nothing on her schedule, and she is entirely his, and he plans to make the most of it. Well, his plans are largely to laze about and feed each other food under the blooming cherry trees on the cliffs, but plans are plans nonetheless. He lets her sleep in as long as he dares before pulling her from the sheets to dress for a day of lounging about. He has a picnic basket all ready to go, and before she can begin listing off all of the things she ought to be doing with her day, he's dragged her out far from the bustle of daily life in Zephrah. No reading, no meetings, no spell preparation—just him and her and a basket full of food and the candy-colored skies overhead.

He's resting up against a tree with her nestled between his legs, his eyes closed to feel the soft breeze rustle his hair. She reaches up to pop a grape into his mouth and says, "Okay, you win. This is nice."

He grins. "Who knew you had the ability to relax?"

Pouting, she says, "I can be fun."

"Your idea of fun usually ends up with you getting arrested."

"Well your idea of fun usually ends up with Grog doing irreparable damage to one of your testicles."

"But he enjoyed himself, didn't he? When was the last time you let yourself breathe?"

She twists around to glare at him, and then he sees a spark of something dangerous in her eye. The next thing he knows, the gentle breeze that he has become so accustomed to in Zephrah has turned into a gale force wind, localized, apparently, on him, and his hair picks up and swirls around him as if caught in a tornado. He yelps, trying to use his arms to protect his eyes as his demon of a girlfriend laughs. The wind dies down a few moments later, and he doesn't need a mirror to know that his hair is a mess.

"You jerk!" he exclaims, lurching forward to attempt to tickle her, but as always, she's too fast for him. She shrinks down into a tiny sparrow and flitters up to nest in his hair, whistling at him with what he can only assume is mocking glee.

"Alright, alright, you win!" he groans, collapsing back against the tree again. His avian girlfriend flies up in a victory lap over head before settling back down atop the picnic blanket and resuming the half-elven shape is rather fond of.

"I can be fun," she repeats, grinning smugly.

"Only because you cheat with magic," he grumbles as he begins the futile attempt at combing out his tangles.

She shrugs, grabbing a few cubes of cheese to toss into her mouth. "Tell your raven girlfriend to give you better spells instead of this depressing wardrobe."

"How did this picnic turn into my roast?" he moans. "I changed my mind, I'm not getting that tattoo anymore."

"Weenie."

He's had enough of her lip, so he surges forward to capture it with his own. She grins into the kiss, clearly satisfied with herself, and he lets her take the victory.

[broskiblurbs]

When You Are Gone {T.H}

Summary: This is part two to "When I Lose You." Tom struggles with your death even months after. He almost ends it, but you give him the push he needs. Words: 2.8K Warnings: ANST! Attempted suicide, moderate cussing, mentions of heavy alcohol use. Also, spoilers for The Fault in Our Stars.

part one here

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s been four months since Tom Holland watched you die; no, begged the doctors to not save you. The moment plays in his head on repeat in his waking hours and haunts him as he sleeps. He wishes he let the doctors resuscitate you, then maybe, just maybe, he would have his happy ending. Perhaps it was a selfish desire, but he never found a way to live without you. It was like you took every part of him when you left this world.

Everything that made Tom, well, Tom must’ve danced with you to wherever your soul went. A once happy, energizing, fun-loving man was now a depressed, droopy, angry alcoholic. Someone who used to have so much to say, now didn’t see a purpose to noise. He had closed himself off to everyone, even his best mate Harrison, who had tried endlessly to get through to friend.

“Tom, please. Open up. Everyone’s worried about you, mate.” Tom could hear Harrison calling from the other side of the front door of his flat. He couldn’t be bothered. Tom was tucked away in his bed. The room was completely dark and reeked of rum. It was only one in the afternoon. “If you don’t answer, then I’m coming in!” That he did. 

He came barging in the pigsty of a bedroom and found his best friend wallowing away with his pillow, which probably had collected a gallon of salty tears, if not more. He turned on the lights and yanked the blankets off of Tom, who was very quick to tell him to fuck off.

“I’ve fucked off for four months. Now, it’s time for me to step in before you end up killing yourself,” Harrison scolded. 

“Do it, then! Leave me to die. At least then, I won’t have to hear your annoying ass pound on my door twice a fucking day! Don’t you get it? I don’t want you here to pity me,” Tom bit back. Harsh words indeed, but Harrison wasn’t about to give up that quickly. He knew it was the alcohol and grief talking. 

“Pity you? Please, I’m not here to pity you. I'm here to get your head out of your ass and go see your family. They are worried about you. They haven’t seen you since the funeral. Do you really think this is what Y/N wants?” Tom's face turned red as he got up in his friend’s face.

“Don’t you dare say her name,” he warned as he pushed past Harrison to go to the living room. Mainly so he can grab a beer, but as well as to kick his friend out.

“She was my friend too!” Harrison’s voice boomed across the flat. “Your parents saw her like her own daughter. As for Sam and Harry, they lost a best friend that day.”

“I lost the love of my life! Do not compare my loss to yours or my brothers!” Angry tears escaped Tom’s eyes as his fists rolled up into balls.

“You’re not getting it, mate,” Harrison tried more gently. “We all lost someone else that day as well. You.” Tom’s face eased up as he continued to hear what his friend had to say. “Even at the funeral, you wouldn’t talk to anyone. You disappeared from our lives when we needed you the most. Might as well have been your funeral as well.”

Tom took a seat on the couch, which hasn’t been sat on since you were there. Your blanket was still lounging over the side. Your shoes were still tucked underneath the furniture because no matter how much you tried, you could never remember to take off your shoes at the front door. Your book was still on the coffee table. It was turned upside down, keeping the spot you were at since you lost your bookmark, which was probably stuck between the couch cushions. 

“What are you reading?” Tom asked as he grabbed the books from your hand. You gave him a pout and cuddled more into your soft blanket. “The Fault in Our Stars, really?”

“What? It’s a great read,” you responded, grabbing back your book from him.

“Doesn’t he like die in the end? Why would you want to read something like that?” Your fiance asked you. 

“I haven’t finished it yet!” you scolded, causing Tom to put his fingers on his mouth while nervously laughing, knowing he just spoiled the end of the book for you. “This is why Marvel won’t let you read REAL scripts.” You jokingly hit him with the book.

“To be fair, the movie has been out for years now. That’s your fault for not reading it sooner, darling.” He bent down to give you a kiss on your forehead. His way of apologizing to you.  

“Halfass apology, but I accept.” Tom starts to walk away, but trips on one of your shoes on the floor. He turns back around and sends you a glare. “That’s what you get for spoiling the book for me.” He rolled his eyes in response.

“Oh, by the way, don’t forget about Paddy’s graduation party tonight,” Tom reminded.

“Right. I probably should get ready for that.” You move around as you try to look for your bookmark. “Where is…? Oh, forget it.” You turn your book upside down, making the table promise to keep your spot.

Tears flooded Tom’s eyes as your memory assaulted him. He cradled his face as he continued to sob. Harrison and Tom weren’t big on hugging, but this was an exception. He wrapped his arms around his friend, reassuring him that he was there for him. Tom didn’t push away. Instead, he accepted the embrace. This was the first human interaction in months and he needed to let his griefs out.

“I just miss her, mate. So fucking much,” Tom said in between sobs.

“I know. Me too.” A few tears escaped Harrison’s eyes as well. Another weight was added to the hug. Almost as if you were hugging them from the otherside. Tom looked at Harrison, who didn’t seem to notice it. Maybe he’s finally gone crazy.

“I still need time. This-this is all too much for me to handle,” Tom uttered, pulling away from the hug. This is when Harrison noticed Tom’s figure. He lost a dangerous amount of weight. This muscles had diminished considering he hadn’t gotten out of bed in weeks, let alone gone to the gym

“Then let us help you. No one expected you to do this on your own,” Harrison replied, rubbing his friend’s back. Tom stood back up.

“I told you. I don’t need your pity,” he pronounced, taking another swig of his beer.

“You’re not taking care of yourself. When was the last time you actually ate something? Alcohol doesn’t count. You need help,” Harrison tried, receiving him a groan from Tom. “It’s okay to need help, mate. You lost your fiance-”

“Wife,” he interrupted. His head was hanging low. “She is, I mean, was my wife.” The interaction was stressing Tom out. Too many thoughts, memories, and pieces of you replaying in his mind at once. He ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s too much,” he whispered.

“Tom-”

“Please, go.” He pointed to the door, directing his friend to leave. Harrison hesitantly left, knowing there wasn’t much more he could do. He wasn’t giving up on his mate. No. He knew Tom needed medical help, but he had no way to get Tom to admit that himself. He needed help and returned with that no more than an hour later, but it was too late.

After Harrison left, Tom crashed back on the couch and held your blanket in his arms, touching it the first time since that night. He held it close to his nose. Your smell was still sown in with the stitches. This smell wasn’t sick. It wasn’t lying on a hospital bed, begging him to let you go. It was cozy. It was home. On the couch and with him.

On the small wooden table that sat right next to the couch was a lamp and a picture. The picture of you and Tom on your first date as boyfriend and girlfriend. It was at a local diner, one he went to ever since he first came to New York. You got chicken tenders, while he got a ¼ pound burger. The sun glistens your face so beautifully. It made you look like an angel.

“I still can’t believe you got chicken tenders. What are you? Nine?” Tom joked taking a big bite out of his burger. You give a shy smile.

“It’s a classic, and I know I will enjoy it,” you respond, smothering your tender in sauce. Tom laughed and shook his head.

“Whatever you say, love.” He now takes a bite of his fries. “These are the best chips. Better than any McDonald’s I’ve ever been to.” You give him a weird look. “What?”

“You mean fries?” You start giggling, causing your boyfriend to roll his eyes.

“Same thing. In the UK we call them chips.”

“Well, London Boy, you’re in America. Those are french fries,” you state as you take one of his fries and toss it in your mouth. Tom looks at you with disbelief.

“You have your own right there,” he exclaims as he points at your fries that lay next to your crisp tenders.

“Yeah, but yours are better.” 

Tom slams the picture facedown back on the table. He gets back up to get his beer from the kitchen counter. He couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t imagine a world where you were gone. No longer existing. A world where the only things that proved you were once alive were a pair of shoes, a book, a blanket, a picture, and your memory constantly running through his mind. A world that was once warm, full of color and light was now a cold, dark, and lonely one. With tears streaming down his cheeks, he heads to the bathroom. He had just missed that picture he placed facedown moments ago, only now it was sitting right again.

He swung the medicine cabinet open as he rummaged through the contents. “Tylenol,” he thought to himself. It would do the trick. Is he really going to do this? Is it worth it? This isn’t what you would want, right? He unsealed the cap as he ignored every thought in his mind. All he ever wanted was you. This is how he would get to you. He must die. He grabs handfuls of the medicine at a time and chugs it with his beer. “I’ll be with you soon, darling.” 

What he didn’t know was that you were there. The entire time. You walked with him home from the hospital the night you died. You stood on the stage with him as he attempted a speech in your honor at your funeral. You cuddled him as he cried himself to sleep every night, wishing for a different outcome. This was no different. You screamed at him to stop and think about what he was doing, but of course, he couldn’t hear you. You were a ghost.

Everything was white. It almost blinded Tom. He was even dressed in white.  He slowly stood up and saw the local diner in the distance. Instead of being surrounded by tall buildings, it just sat by itself in the distance. The door to the diner made its typically ringing noise as he walked through the door. Everything was restored of color and he was now wearing his cream turtleneck and khakis. The same thing he wore on his first date with you. In the third booth, you sat. You were as healthy as ever. Your hair was all grown out and you had some color to your skin. You were you.

Tom rushed to the booth and sat across from you. You give him a welcoming smile. Oh how he missed that smile of yours. You pick up the menu that is laid in front of you.

“You know, I might go for the chicken tenders. You can never go wrong with those,” you spoke. Your voice rang through Tom’s ears and it sounded like music. “Let me guess. You’re going to get the Mama’s Cheeseburger with ‘chips.’” Tom was speechless. All he could do is just look at you with love and admiration. You were here. With him. Alive and well. “Well, am I right?”

Tom cleared his throat and replied, “You know me too well, darling.” He did something he hadn’t done since you were diagnosed: smile. The song “Only You” by Yaz started to play on the jukebox.

“I think I remember you promising me ‘a dance in the afterlife,’” you reminded him. You stood up from the booth and held your hand out to him. “Come on!” 

He gladly took your hand and danced with you. His arms around your waist and yours around his neck. The two of you swayed with the beat. He playfully twirled you, causing you to giggle.

“Am I dead?” he whispered.

“Only if you want to be,” you responded. The scene seemed to change to a dance floor. You were in a beautiful white gown and him in a black and white suit and tie. This was meant to be your wedding dress and his suit. The song had changed pace and a female voice was now singing. (Selena Gomez version)

“Well, I did this,” he said, gesturing to his suicide.

“I know,” you answered, moving a piece of hair out of his face.

“I can’t do this without you, darling. It’s too much,” he cried.

“You know why I love 'The Fault in Our Stars so much?'” You asked. Tom shook his head, confused as to whether the book had anything to do with this.

“The storytelling. It was beautiful and amazing. The jokes and the memories Augustus and Hazel shared. Sure, he dies in the end, but that doesn’t erase everything that happened. Yes, it sucks, but that is our story. I loved every moment. It doesn’t have to be the end, either. We can just put a bookmark and finish it later,” you explain. “Do you understand what I’m saying Tom? You can live. You still have the rest of your life. Your parents, your brothers, and Harrison will make it all worth living for. Just give them a chance.”

“No, I can’t. You are everything. When you died you took every part of me with you,” he responded. The two of you have stopped dancing at this point, still in each other’s arms.

“Then, find it again. It’s going to take some time, but it’s possible. I will be with you. I have always been with you. You were never alone.” You put your hand on his heart. “Please, Tom. It’s not your time yet. When it is your time, I’ll be here waiting. We can remove the bookmark and continue our story, but for now, go live your life.” You gave him pleading eyes and you knew he wouldn’t resist. “Trust your friends, family, and most importantly, yourself.” He nods.

“Okay, I’ll live for you,” he reluctantly agreed. The space was getting smaller. Tom was waking up.

“No, for yourself,” you corrected. The music had stopped and the space was now pitch black.

“Y/N?” He called out, but you were gone.

Tom was now laying in the hospital bed. The smell that was once you were now of medicine and hand sanitizer. He looked around and he was currently alone, or it seemed that way. He imagined you standing over him. He could almost hear you say, “You got this.” On the nightstand lay a book: The Fault in Our Stars. There was a bookmark in it. He turned the page and there was a section highlighted.

“There are infinite numbers between 0 and 1. There's .1 and .12 and .112 and an infinite collection of others. Of course, there is a bigger infinite set of numbers between 0 and 2, or between 0 and a million. Some infinities are bigger than other infinities. A writer we used to like taught us that. There are days, many of them, when I resent the size of my unbounded set. I want more numbers than I'm likely to get, and God, I want more numbers for Augustus Waters than he got. But, Gus, my love, I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity. I wouldn't trade it for the world. You gave me a forever within the numbered days, and I'm grateful.” -The Fault in Our Stars by John Green.

[chiyoso]

hira hira hira !!! hello !!! i wanted to greet once again a happy birthday (if it's still september first) and i hope you had fun when you were outside! i hope you spent your day happily and filled with gifts and love by the people who adore you <3

*rubs hands and clears throat* i now shall state my purpose of being back here again. please be warned about my idea, i think it's kind of triggering

i just wanna see a brainrot of mine be known by other people, and by that i mean [name] being pathetically in love with scaramouche that she lets herself be trampled over, be ridiculed, be the second choice, be out casted, be hated, be used as a mere plaything, be willingly manipulated, be the one always taking the blame until they just break down in tears, wondering what they did wrong that scaramouche wouldn't even look their way (inspired by what i feel what the song is about — i know you by faye webster)

yes, hira, i am perfectly fine, no need to worry about me :3 yes, hira, i don't mind with this mail not being posted !!! and yes, hira, i won't mind that you'll delete this if this made you uncomfy !! i hope you have a nice day, and always stay safe and happy !!!! mwa :3

JIJI — lovely, what a warm welcome (i just got home a few mins ago)

honestly, you've come to the right place, i love reading and writing dark content — and it may be hard to believe, but the things you mentioned in your idea? my little 15-17 years old self experienced it, not to mentio- i'll give you a small little rant about my ex in the past, perhaps to give you ideas in the process as well! (and yes, you can absolutely discuss things like this with me, i told you lovely, i'm absolutely open minded with anything and i tend to have a level headed/calm and open response, even with a taboo subject) without further ado

TW: HEAVY TOPICS, LONG READ, HIRAETH'S RELATIONSHIP LORE UNDER CUT

here, my naive 15 year old idled about in life with suicidal and depressed tendencies. dull, overworked and exhausted, in result of having to perform in plenty of stages that involved my skills as a musician. don't get me wrong, performing itself was great, taking the center stage with my other young performers, receiving gifts after — all was good in that aspect. but the negative began to seed, based off my desires to love or be enticed with the ideas of love, being cared for, being cherished. a busy life became dull, and the bullying i received from my classmates, teachers standing by — my world had dulled, causing me to drop out ultimately. i wanted to be cared for, a voice kept repeating inside my head. familial love in my eyes heavily differed to the love i craved subconsciously.

unfortunately for me, i was too observant, too keen, too aware. aware of my negative surroundings, growing negativity, my growing desire for love, but the world had continued to fail me continuously at the time, until i had enough, until i grew exhausted to the point where i wanted to — well, dying isnt really the best word, but i just wanted to live another life, i wanted to rest, i wanted to sleep endlessly.

and then.

three days. three days before i took action to cease my life, a game piqued my interest (knights chronicle) i was honestly in total auto mode, decisions weren't 100%, you could say i was mindlessly making decisions, my subconscious protecting me in its own way by distracting me with this "game" i impulsively downloaded.

skipping, i met him.

my ex. i had a persona on of course, to hide my abyss. i was a flirt, i was confident, i was who i write today on my fictions. this sudden persona? i have analyzed myself back then, and i've come to a conclusion that it was a persona manifested by desperation, absolute desperation to — yup, that's right, my rooted, inner desires, to love.

oh, i endeared ppl in that public chat — but i dont genuinely know what the fuck compelled me to my ex, but it was a force even i was unaware of why i felt a pull towards him, i still cant answer that myself. i flirted nonstop towards him specifically, relentless i was, desperate i was, but then it happened, i jokingly plugged in my instagram handle in chat — but he, he fucking remembered it, MESSAGED me, causing to stir hidden, brewing emotions, unaware that this simple, yet impactful act, would be my demise until feb-march of 2023.

oh it was lovely at first, i fell "in love" immediately. (nnh im cringing) and i let him know it, but it was one sided at first. i was heartstruck, lovestruck — no, lovesick. and this feeling dissipated any intention of suiciding. he was my savior, he was a savior in my eyes. shit, i was hopelessly... hopeless. shunning my family out, everyone, even my friends, fuck, and it was still one sided after a few months of friendship with him.

but since he voiced out ever so clearly, that he wasn't ready yet

my feelings wavered of course, and this carnal desire to be loved was immense, so, naturally, the husk of me sought out other attention, and i met someone online (imvu), he was sweet, a connection established, things were good — or... so i thought as i was blocked the next day. i was so desperate, so fucking naive and desperate that i went through his friends list and messaged a random friend. oh i was hopeless, so damn hopeless. but the guy unblocked me momentarily, i sought out closure, he reassured, and then just when i thought things were good again, he blocked me, once more. and our last messages together were "goodnight" to each other.

but this encounter with him?

i voiced this whole thing to my ex, and

at that day, at the same time, he confessed his feelings.

quite the coincidence, is it not?

so in my desperate state of self, i grew to love him as intensely, more than before. and things were good, at least for a few months.

relationships, of course, we had to show our "comfortable sides" eventually, no? and that we did. we were... different, too different, the opposite, fuck i cannot- i do not know where to begin. views, political views, the world, our interests, all was different, he was more difficult than i thought, more different, opening a world of new negativity within me, but guess what, i was still hopelessly and naively in love.

later.

all would come crashing down, one topic led to another, then another, until it became an argument, and he would later reveal that he merely saw this relationship — as a companionship. a companionship. not even a relationship. oh! oh! he stated that he viewed me as a puppy, a dog, and he was a master, CARING for the dog. a "conpanionship." by the way, in later, much later events, we would have multiple arguments about me expressing about the past, and if i bring this shit up, he would go

"not again, grace. i thought we were already done with the past, the past is done and i've already apologized"

"not again..."

"can you.... not bring the word (companionship) up? it traumatizes me grace..."

something along those lines. anyhow.

oh, ill indulge you, the moment he tried to leave me the first time — i begged, begged endlessly, crying, choking sobs, worrying my family. he stayed... because... i don't know? did he want us to work? did he pity me? did he love me? did he- yeah i dont know and ive long forgotten.

much, much later, we would have the worse arguments ever, until the rainbows, the sunshines and the good times were buried with our impactful arguments. i will admit, if we werent arguing, all was... fine. not dull. fine.

but shit, our arguments, i would be like this;

H: "PLEASE please... please... please don't leave me, dont leave me dont leave me dont leave me... please... i just- i just need reassurance... reassurance, its all i need, please...."

two ways, he complies because i need to fucking guide him since he cant come up or initiate his own, or he fucking goes away and gets burnt out and needs to leave the "argument"

i was BEGGING for the bare minimum. just- just if you've seen nat's recent scaramouche fic, our relationship was like that, but much more heavier, much more... i dont know.

RIGHT. AND WHEN I HAD ENOUGH AND WANTED TO LEAVE, HE WOULD FUCKING FOLD. HE WOULD THREATEN TO KILL HIMSELF. ?????????¿???2?!2?2!?21!1?

we broke up many times, and got back together many times. it was a cycle, a cycle of hell that i endured for 5 years. not to mention, HE was the one who brought up not having feelinge for him anymore, HE was the one who said he will change, he will end this cycle.

(i also could send ss in your asks if you wish, i dont really mind)

"grace, you're a hypocrite for wanting revenge!"

"this is so toxic..." (him referring to my expressing and begging for the bare minimum)

"please dont tell me im doing the bare minimum" - him, again

i believe im being biased, but nothing can quell the hidden hatred and anger i've developed from being with him lmao

oh when i initiated the breakup talk (again) this year, he beat me first to it, to utter the words. and you wanna know what he said blatantly?

"yeah i... im just scared of it coming from you"

BEAT ME TO IT BECAUSE HE FEARS THE REALITY OF ME FINALLY BEING DONE

and yes, i do not deny the hardwork, the good times, but it is all buried underneath the fucking trauma he induced lmao, the shitty arguments, the emotional trauma, he was so emotionally unintelligent.

and guess. fucking. what.

he started to do the shit ive begged for AFTER i was finally done with him, which was just a few months ago of our officially, official breakup. playing valorant after expressing not wanting to play it, calling it a trash game, playing genshin now but before he found it so utterly boring, and SO FUCKING ON.

ahem. this is just 12% of the contents in my relationship previously, im just shortcutting things because this reply is getting longer than i thought...

genuinely sorry for the vent lore 😭 but i hope this experience of mine helps you in your writing and especially dolly 🫶

[ofstoriesandstardust]

❛ relationships are built on trust, and i trust you. ❜

❛ pinky promise? ❜

❛ c’mere, you. ❜

This feels like an early conversation/moments with Coyote and Rebel as they figure out how to be wingmen/the first time Coyote and Rebel hug

ky's 1.5k follower celebration!!

this was so fun to write!! i hope you enjoy it

warnings: swearing, near-death experiences, Naval inaccuracies

“Hey.” You look up from where you’re shutting your locker to the girl walking past you. “Have  a good three days off?” 

You give her a soft smile. “Yeah; wasn’t long enough though.” 

Owl smiles, tilting her head, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. “Good to have you and Machado back.” 

“Owl!” Moonshine calls, propping the door back open. “You coming or what?” 

Owl sighs. “See you out there?” 

You nod, waiting for her to leave the locker room before you sink back down to sit on the bench. 

Three days hadn’t been enough time to come even close to grasping how close you had come to death, to dealing with it at all. 

You still weren’t sure how to look Coyote in the eye now that you both were cleared to fly again, if you could trust him to have your back. 

If he could trust you to have his. 

Your eyes flit over the scratches in the paint on the locker as Ice’s words play on repeat in your head. 

If you want out, say the word. 

You remember it so clearly, the way he’d looked at you over a cup of tea the last night you were in town. It was late and you hadn’t been able to sleep, too nervous about what you were walking back into upon your return. 

The words hadn’t been said with malicious intent. Your godfather would do anything and everything to bring you home safe and sound, to pull you out of the Navy the minute you wanted to be done. 

But you felt like you had no other choice but to keep going. They all expected so much from you and they were just- so proud of you. 

How could you let them down now? 

How many times had your Dad come face-to-face with death and walked away, got back in the cockpit, and kept going? 

You had to keep going. 

You sigh, pushing yourself up from the bench, knowing it was now or never. 

-

“You ready for this?”

You turn, catching sight of Coyote standing a few feet away. You squint in the bright sunlight overhead as you shrug, walking closer to him. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” 

“Hey, it’ll be fine. No open oceans to possibly plummet to our deaths in.”

He’s joking, you know he is, even if it’s a bit of a forced and uncomfortable way to make you relax. 

Still, you can’t bring yourself to laugh, looking out over the tarmac to where Shadow and Raven are doing their final checks on their plane. 

“No, just mountains to crash into and become a fiery explosion.” 

He sighs. “C’mon, it’s gonna be fine.” 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” The words are abrupt, even catching you off-guard, as you swing your head back towards him. “Fly with me?” 

He shakes his head, clearly confused. “Why wouldn’t I?” 

The words get stuck in your throat. It’s like they get physically caught as you look at him. 

You almost died for me because of them. Are you sure you want to do that again? 

Instead, you shrug. 

“Never mind. Don’t worry about it. Forget I said anything.” 

-

“Rebel!” He calls as you walk into the bar that night, waving you over to a table where he’s standing with Ghost and Owl. 

You sigh, heading in that direction, not missing the look Owl and Ghost share at the gesture. It’s barely before Coyote slides a beer in your direction before someone slides their arm over your back and you turn, seeing Celestial, a pilot stationed at your base. 

She’s actually a WSO, something she’s endlessly proud of. 

She’s also insanely kind, and a much better human being than you fear you will ever be. 

She gives you a bright smile, her eyes glittering with excitement. “So… I got word today from my Commanding Officer that I’m getting a promotion.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “Yeah?” 

She nods, her dangling earrings following the movement. “With my new Lieutenant Commander status, I will also be relocating to Pensacola.” 

“Lucky bitch.” Ghost mutters, taking a swig of his beer. “I would do anything to be back in the Florida sun.” 

“Cel, that’s great!” Owl exclaims from across the table, reaching out to squeeze the blonde’s hand.

“Congrats.” Coyote says, raising his beer. 

“Yeah, that’s really amazing.” You say, biting your bottom lip. 

Celestial and you were friendly, one of the only pilots around the base who could stand you, and her leaving felt a lot heavier than it would’ve just even a month ago. 

“I’m really happy for you.” You muster, offering her a smile.

“Thanks.” She says, bringing you into a hug. You blink, realizing tears are stinging your eyes as you come up to wrap your arms around her. “Anyways, I just wanted to come over and tell you since I ship out in two days. My squadron’s taken me out for celebratory drinks so I better be getting back to them.” 

You watch her go, the table falling into the comfortable conversation you’re sure they'd been having before you’d come over, prompting you to shrug on your jacket you must’ve taken off at some point, not having touched the drink Coyote had gotten you. You don’t bother to say goodbye, slipping back through the crowd and leaving the bar.

The sound of the bar door opening follows you as you walk into the parking lot. “Rebel, hey, are you okay?” 

You sigh, taking a deep breath through your nose before turning to face the pilot. “‘M good. Just tired all of a sudden.” 

He eyes you. “You really that upset over Cel leaving?” 

You shrug. “Kind of. She’s really my only friend around here.” 

He scoffs. “We aren’t friends?” 

You cross your arms, shrugging again. “We’re friends?” 

He gives a half-chuckle, stepping closer to you. “Rebel, we almost died together. We’re bonded for life.” 

Still, you don’t give, offering him a skeptical look. “And you trust me enough for that? Cause personally-” 

He waves a hand, cutting you off. “Of course I trust you. Relationships are built on trust, and I trust you.” He sighs, taking another step closer to you, reaching for one of your arms. “C’mere you.” 

He pulls you close to his chest, arms wrapping tightly around you. 

It’s one of those hugs that just makes you feel safe, grounded, like everything might just be okay. 

“Hey, any time they get to be too much or- or you feel alone, you come find me and we talk about it, okay?”

You sniff, pulling away. “Okay.” 

“Pinky promise?” 

You huff out a laugh at his outstretched hand. “Are you serious? I’m not twelve.” 

You couldn’t remember the last time you pinky promised with someone, just that it had been your thing with a boy long gone from your life. 

“Yeah, I’m serious. Because you seem like the type to say yes and then not so… pinky promise.” 

You give an exaggerated sigh, locking your pinky with his. “Fine, I pinky promise.” He laughs, a real laugh from his chest as he pulls you into his side. “Good. C’mon, you didn’t drink your beer.”