#life's so hard man. even though I'm much older than him I still have days (like today and yesterday)

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Sometimes I forget how young Quackity is, but every once in a while it just kinda hits me and I'm like oh. He's still just a kid.

[restinslices]

Lin Kuei Bros: Play Fighting

Smoke so dramatic-. Anyway, don’t ask why I thought of this. The voices were loud

Bi-Han

Play fighting with any of them is bold as fuck but HIM? You don't like your life 

I'm not saying he's gonna straight up assault you but out of all the brothers, he has the highest chance of hitting you hard as shit on accident 

He probably wouldn't even like play fighting that much. He'd prefer sparring cause at least you're working on your skills. Why you just fucking around?

You gotta catch him on the right day. Some days he's busy and some days he's just legit not in the mood. 

“Imma start it off slow. Imma scope the scenery out-”

If you somehow get this man to cooperate, first of all good job. Second of all, y'all do not stop until you give up. 

The type to pin you down and not let go until you admit he won. If you refuse, you're legit not moving. 

This is a big guy so you're not moving him. You give up, he lets go and you manage to crack a smile out of him

We never see him smile in the game but listen bitch, I'm here for the fantasy-

If he's not in the mood, I can see him just saying “no” like you're a puppy or smth. 

You'd go to swing on him again and he'd either grab your hand or give you a look that tells you he's being serious 

Going back to him accidentally hitting you hard as shit, he's used to sparring with two other buff ass men. Imma guess you're not as buff as them, and some of y'all reading this ain't men. Accidents are bound to happen 

You'd think the Grandmaster would have more control but I just think it slips sometimes. He's stupidly prideful and he's used to sparring so sometimes that's where his mind goes. Also once again, he probably sometimes forgets a hit Kuai Liang could handle is a hit that'll take years off your life. 

I would love to say he gets on his knees and apologizes but this is the same man who betrayed his brothers and was like “why y'all tweaking?” so um… 

You're gasping for air and he's “see why I always say no?”

I feel like I'm making him sound abusive but as someone who's play fought with my older siblings, they hit you hard as shit then tell you you're a bitch when a tear slips out. Why the fuck are you hitting me this hard in my chest? You got 5+ years on me-

He's an older brother. He's gonna hit hard. I swear it's in their DNA 

And if he does apologize it's not really verbal. He checks to make sure your limbs are alright then offers to do something else. 

“Are you gonna say you're sorry?” “For?” “For almost breaking my damn lung” “You started this”

You'd expect that the next time you wanna play fight he'd decline cause he doesn't wanna hurt you again. Wrong. 

Remember he's an older brother. THE older brother. Y'all squaring up again. You don't care about your health so fuck it. 

Honestly would be super fun besides the limb you're gonna lose 

Kuai Liang

Would be more cooperative than Bi-Han but still isn't overly excited to play fight 

Bi-Han is the “tell mom. I don't care” older brother. Kuai Liang is the “wait wait wait, I'm sorry. You can hit me back. Calm down. You want some candy?” older brother 

Fully aware he could cause terrible injuries but as time passes on, he relaxes more 

Definitely play fought as a kid but after Tomas started jumping everytime he heard his voice, he thought “maybe I need new hobbies”.

You’ve interrupted his recovery

He actively focuses on holding back and being soft even if you tell him not to

“Hit me harder” “No❤”

Honestly a fun time though. He holds back when it comes to strength but still tussles with you. Also let's you get hits in even when he could easily dodge them. 

If he accidentally injured you frfr, he's checking up on you immediately and says y'all stopping for today. 

“No, I'm ok” “Can you even breathe right now?” “Uhhh… yes😀” “We're done”

For sure feels like an asshole depending on how bad you're hurt. He's not sliding down the wall in pain but he's like “damn, that was a little too hard”. 

“You can hit me back” “No. I've seen Twilight” “What?” “It's gonna hurt me more than it's gonna hurt you. I'm not doing that”. (Now I wanna write you making them watch Twilight. I'm never gonna be rid of this addiction-)

You gotta hit him back so y'all can be even. It's the only way to move on

Y'all are not doing that shit again for at least another week or so. 

“We gotta scrap right here right now” “No”

Does the thing older siblings do when they put their hand on your head so when you swing at them, you're just hitting air. 

It's so infuriating so you gotta stop. 

The next time though, you swear you're gonna win. You will not. 

Tomas Vrbada

The most willing and having the most fun 

Tomas has two older brothers that probably jumped him on several occasions growing up and you're gonna try and convince me he doesn't have aggression to get out?

People would probably expect he's the softest but no. He's the youngest. As the youngest myself I can assure you, we are used to putting our all in these fights cause we gotta use all our strength to defeat these evil mfs we live with. Sometimes it's not enough-

You're not his older sibling so he's not scrapping like his life depends on it but I do think he's hitting somewhat hard 

Not as hard as Bi-Han, not as soft as Kuai Liang 

You feel his hits but it's not knocking the wind outta you 

Super fun cause he's also using the environment. Definitely is grabbing a pillow and starts swinging it at you. Definitely is running around the couch to chase you. Definitely has thrown you but made sure to aim at something soft. He's probably even turned off the lights then threw a folded blanket at you 

“Cheater” “Don't be upset you didn't think of it first”

You're fighting but laughing at the same time. There's no real tension. Just fucking around. 

Probably starts initiating it too

If he does injure you fr, for a split second he'd actually see it as a victory then he'd remember you're not his older brothers and is like “oh shit-”. 

Injuring those two would mean freedom (or a worse jumping. really depends), injuring you is not good. 

He knows how bad those hits can hurt so he makes sure you're alright. He's not watching you as much as Kuai Liang would but he'd still make sure you're not overly sore. 

He doesn't feel as bad as Kuai Liang would cause he kinda knows this shit happens. Kuai Liang kinda got a little bit of guilt cause Tomas gets into a fighting stance when he raises his hand up. Tomas hasn't victimized anyone so he's more chill about these situations 😭

Tells you random ass stories about when he used to play fight with his brothers. 

“One time Bi-Han threw me in the air and Kuai Liang jumped to catch me only to throw me against the wall”

“This reminds me of when Bi-Han swept my feet from under me and Kuai Liang jumped on me”

“What is it called when someone jumps on you elbow first?”

“This one time I woke up to them standing over me. I knew it was a wrap”

“One time Bi-Han slapped the back of my neck so hard, it was red for at least a week”

“One time Kuai Liang-” “Tomas… you need a therapist” “I don't think that's what it is”

Unlike Kuai Liang who makes you wait, he's cool with scrapping days later. 

Actually says “time out” when he wants a break. Also says “time in” fast as fuck though to catch you off guard 

Legit the most fun brother. I don't make the rules (except I do). 

I did not mean to write the least for Kuai Liang but I was really brain empty for him. Y’all should give me ideas, thanks bookie

[gummygowon]

bingo | park seonghwa

word count: 1.8k

genre: angst + fluff, single dad!seonghwa x reader

warnings: brief mention of hwa's ex partner not being in their daughter's life

author's note: after seeing seonghwa on that one show with kids i literally cannot get dad!teez out of my head

it's been almost a month? since you've started going out with seonghwa. he was a great guy, a little older than you and was always a gentleman to you, what more could you ask for? at this point, you were waiting for seonghwa to make it official but there was just something that was holding him back. you didn't know what it was but you trusted that with time he'll tell you.

tonight, was another date night and even after all these days you still got nervous before each one. it was no different when you arrived at seonghwa's house fiddling with the hem of your cardigan.

hesitantly, you knocked on the door to reveal a disheveled looking seonghwa. his usually slicked back hair wasn't done and a few buttons on his shirt were open.

"hi," seonghwa breathes out, a tired smile on his face.

"are you okay, hwa?" you ask almost instantly, concern taking over before you notice a tiny figure waddling up behind him. big doe eyes looking up at you from behind his legs, "oh hello!"

"yeojin, go into your room really quickly. appa will be there in a second." seonghwa softly asks, the exhaustion evident in his voice. "come in, i'm so sorry. just give me a minute, things have been...chaotic."

"oh no worries." you respond empathetically, taking note of how many toys and coloring books were scattered all over the place. so he has a child? is he divorced?

before too many questions popped into your mind, seonghwa immediately began talking as he began to pick up the scattered toys. "i'm so sorry about the mess. i had to stay at the office a little longer and then i picked up yeojin late and i just haven't had time to clean up and then our babysitter canceled last minute and now-"

"hey, hey," you interrupt before seonghwa combusts from being overwhelmed. to ease the burden, you also begin to pick up the toys around the living room after you placed a hand on his back. "it's okay. don't worry about it. there's always tomorrow seonghwa."

"i know, i know but-wait. you're not mad or disgusted?" the man stops in his tracks looking at you perplexed.

"i'm a little surprised if i'm being honest. i know taking care of a child is hard and by yourself i assume is even harder. your kid is more important than anything in the world, missing one date won't kill me hwa."

seonghwa was standing still, not a sound coming out his mouth which was beginning to freak you out. did you say the wrong thing? is seonghwa yeojin's dad or? "seonghwa?"

"sorry, i'm just a little shocked. not a lot of people are very happy when they find out they've been going out with a single dad." seonghwa lightly jokes trying to ease the tension in the air. "thank you though. it means a lot. really."

"of course," you smile at him.

a door opens to reveal a tiny yeojin peeking out from what you presumed to be her room.

"hey bubba, what's up." seonghwa asks, his voice becoming much softer.

she doesn't say much but instead pads over to the coffee table and attaches herself to her dad. "can we draw?"

"of course bubs. let appa go get the markers."

"i can get them." you say faster than seonghwa gets up to which he directs you over to one of the drawers in the living room.

upon your arrival, seonghwa has a bluey coloring book out for yeojin. crutching down to reach the table, you gasp softly at the blue dog. "is that bluey?"

yeojin nods her head shyly, a small smile appearing on her face as seonghwa looks up at you in surprise.

"ahh, i love bluey! who's your favorite character?" you ask watching yeojin point to the smaller, light colored dog.

"bingo?" yeojin nods again, her smile growing even bigger. "no way, i like her too!"

seonghwa watched the two of you converse in awe and he swears he couldn't have fallen more in love with you. it was always a gamble bringing up the fact that he had a kid to his dates and lately he's been ghosted more times than he can count. maybe that's why seonghwa took so long to talk about yeojin. although, he would never admit it, you had him wrapped your finger and he was scared to lose you.

so far though, you were taking his little "surprise" or "fun fact" about him better than he thought you would. still, he was worried what you would say when yeojin left the room. would you be mad at him? dump him on the spot? ghost him after tonight? he's never had one of his flings (?) ever meet yeojin because they all left at the mention of a kid. to say seonghwa was terrified of your reaction was a massive understatement.

"seonghwa?" you ask, pulling the dad out of his thoughts. "yeojin wants to watch bluey."

"right." he answers, gently removing yeojin from his lap as he goes to scrounge for the remote in his unusually disorganized apartment.

while seonghwa looks for the remote, you continue to converse with yeojin about bluey which was the show you ironically watched during dinner time. hey, there's actually plot and messages in the show okay?

by the time seonghwa returned, the two of you were in a deep conversation about some episode regarding bingo and bluey playing pretend with their grandad. almost immediately, yeojin eye's become glued to the screen as soon her dad puts on the kid's show leaving you and seonghwa to talk amongst each other.

"so, you know bluey?" seonghwa asks, a teasing tone to his voice.

an embarrassed laugh slips past your lips, "uh yeah, sounds silly but i watch it as background noise, you know?"

"i'm not judging," he pauses, "just surprised."

"yeah, i like the accents." you say in a panic causing seonghwa to smile, "so, um i don't mean to pry but i assume yeojin's yours?"

the smile slowly fades on his face as seonghwa feels the guilt build in his stomach. "yeah, her, uh mom isn't in the picture anymore."

"oh, i'm so sorry to hear that."

"it's fine now, it's better without her." seonghwa looks down at his hands trying to distract himself from the thoughts about the past.

"oh."

there was a beat of silence where the both of you didn't dare to look at each other, too afraid to make things weird. only the faint conversations of the tv and the sounds of the marker on paper were heard.

"look, i'm really sorry for dumping all this on you." seonghwa gestures to an oblivious yeojin. "i know you probably weren't expecting a child tonight or any of this really. i completely understand if you don't want to talk again or you need space. whatever you want, i'll do."

"it's okay,"

"i-you're not mad?" seonghwa asks in shock.

"i mean i'm not mad. i understand not bringing up a daughter on the first date. but i'm just a little disappointed you didn't tell me sooner." you confess.

"i didn't want to lose you."

"seonghwa-"

"i was trying to plan the perfect time to talk about yeojin but i just got so swamped with everything that time slipped through my fingers and you had to find out in such a shitty way."

your eyes dart towards a sleepy yeojin on seonghwa's lap at the curse word. even he jumps a little at his realization and then calms down when he realized that his baby girl was almost knocked out in his lap.

"would you have told me before we made things official?" you ask, testing the waters about how serious you could go tonight with the questions.

"yes. most definitely yes. i couldn't just ask you to be my partner and then surprise you that i have a whole child that i've been hiding from you."

interesting. so was he going to tell you about yeojin soon? was he going to make things official?

seonghwa could see the gears turning in your head at his words. "it sounds hypocritical now but trust me i really wanted you two to meet. i just-i really like you y/n."

you go quiet. processing everything he was saying. from what he was saying there was a very very high chance he wants you to be his like officially his but even if he actually wanted to make things official, he has a whole child. a child without a mother. were you really ready to take on the responsibility to be one? or anything similar to that role?

being with seonghwa meant much more than just being together and loyal to one another. being honest, you didn't mind yeojin. so far you got along great with her but a single interaction and convo won't predict the future of your relationship with her. it's a lot definitely but-

"y/n," seonghwa softly says pulling you out from your daze, "i'll be right back i'm gonna put yeojin down in her room."

you hum in response, letting your thoughts consume you once more.

your brain was beginning to ache because of how much you were thinking but one thing was for certain. you really liked seonghwa. enough that you were willing to accept everything that came with him - including yeojin.

you reminded yourself that dating seonghwa didn't mean automatically becoming a parent all of a sudden. he wasn't asking that of you. probably won't for a long time. he wants you for you. it's just a bonus you got along with yeojin so far.

there was a soft click of the door closing that made you turn your head. you look over to see seonghwa awkwardly make his way over to you, uncertainty written all over his face.

"i'm sorry for going quiet on you." you apologize, fingers toying with the hem of your cardigan once more. "i was just thinking."

a quiet laugh escapes seonghwa, "it's okay, don't worry about it. i'm sure tonight was a lot. but-"

"listen, seonghwa," oh here it comes. the "i'm so sorry, i don't think this will work out anymore". "i don't know what your plans were for us but regardless of what happened tonight, i want to be more. i know you having a whole kid might make things difficult or a little confusing but, i'm willing to try with you."

seonghwa felt his heart drop and then pick back up again when you finished talking. he didn't know what to say. he was grateful, excited, but most of all relived.

"so, how does another date this thursday night," seonghwa pauses, trying to not choke on his words, "as mine sound?"

"are you finally asking me to be your partner, park seonghwa?" you smile. it's finally happening.

"yes." seonghwa breathes out, truly terrified of your answer.

"then yes, i would love to." you answer, wrapping your arms around seonghwa's neck.

"sounds good then my love." seonghwa mumbles, his heart racing and his head buzzing from the overwhelming night but it didn't matter to him.

you were finally his.

[marikosenwrites]

﹒⪩nsfw headcanons - karasuno edition

a/n: YES I AM BACK WITH THE NSFW EDITION HAHAHAHA ... yeah i only did five characters because i'm really running out of time before my vacation (two months long) and i assure you my progress will be really slow but i'll still be posting some random shitposts

characters: hinata shouyou, kageyama tobio, sugawara koushi, tsukishima kei, yamaguchi tadashi

gn/fem!reader

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘HINATA SHOUYOU∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

-i would head canon him as the experimental type

-he’s kind of just the softie that looks after you a lot even during sex (and especially during sex)

-not if he goes feral though- (we don’t talk about it)

-mm…if you were sadistic he would enjoy your sadism and be a ma…masochist- (my friends said i was one and i mean i don’t disagree…)

-likes seeing your face!! so doggy style isn’t really that common for you guys

-(i’m actually looking hard into this wait until i get lazy)

-if you or shouyou something find something new- HE’S ALL “OOH CAN WE TRY CAN WE TRY” even if it’s like two in the morning and you have to tell him to quiet down

-“b-but i wanna try!! 🥺🥺🥺”

-and oh man is that face your weakness- you give in anyway

-his aftercare is like the best

-you guys just watch a movie or chill in each other’s arms because it’s comfortable that way

-if you’re only taking a small break i think shouyou would prefer keeping his dick inside of you so he can feel your warm ass walls 🥺🥺

-i don't even know what i'm writing anymore

-would actually only have sex after you're twenty and would make sure that you guys have dated at least a year but if circumstances...

-idk why but he would like to brag about it to kageyama- i mean they *are* rivals after all-

-has incredible stamina

-uh...idk probably into edging?? i'm really unsure with this one

-his moans are uh??? loud

-ALSO REMEMBER THAT ONE TIME HE GOT HIT IN THE BALLS BY A VOLLEYBALL BY KINDAIICHI-

-i'm not elaborating let me pretend he didn't get permanent balls damage

-also try to avoid quickies with hinata he’s going to get overboarded with that shit

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘KAGEYAMA TOBIO∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

-possible power play?

-you like to make fun of him by calling him 'king' and he's gonna be like "stoppp..." and yk it riles him

-sadist

-not really the needy type tbh

-it’s really more of a “how i’m feeling that day”

-but he’s clingier than you expect him to be

-more of the traditional type actually

-doesn’t really experiment much

-he actually puts in effort during sex (i haven’t read enough about this)

-he TRIED during aftercare (keyword is try)

-might try to make you something but cooking isn’t really his forte

-so he gives you cuddles and you guys might just take a bath but that usually leads to another session-

-down for quickies anywhere

-i forgor to mention

-his moans are pretty

-when you guys make eye contact all you see is a hunter eating his prey

-he loves eating you out or vice versa <3

-literal king in bed tbh 😩

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘SUGAWARA KOUSHI∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

-i'd say average when it comes to sex

-really soft with you, and is barely feral

-small grunts and gentle movements against your skin

-you guys would definitely have a safe word

-he gets carried away sometimes...><

-tries to plan everything before hand

-like starting with a date and ending in bed and shit

-possibly breeding kink when you guys are older

-loves being cockwarmed since he feels so warm on the inside <3

-feral-ness 3/10

-not really down for quickies, it's risky

-doesn't like experimenting

-might prefer to keep your sex life private and unlike hinata and kageyama not brag about it

-but the whole team knows of your relationship

-his stamina is just average so usually just a round and a half and he's down and snoring

-aftercare is a must if he isn't that tired

-consists of food, bubble bath, AND TONS OF CUDDLES

-literally an angel

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘TSUKISHIMA KEI∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

-sadist FR.

-he just loves teasing and edging you

-literally when he's helping you with his slim and long ass fingers he stops when he knows you're going to come and goes like

-"you don't think sluts deserve to come, do you?"

-kEiiiii stappppp plz 🥺

-but when he's not edging you he's just a marshmallow

-so fluffy

-OK BUT HIS LONG ASS FINGERS ARE HELL BECAUSE HE GETS TO TEASE YOU ENDLESSLY

-that tall ass blond is gonna tease you endlessly about your height (this hc is both nsfw and sfw)

-pretty moans though <3 probably gives you goosebumps

-there probably is a safe word

-PHONE SEX PHONE SEX PHONE SEX RAHHHH I'M GOING CRAZY HEAR ME OUT

-OK WHAT IF HE'S AT CAMP AND HE JUST CALLS YOU BECAUSE HE FEELS HORNY AND YOU GUYS *lip biting*

-ya get what comes next he guides you to touching yourself and vice versa <33333

-but it's not that often he VOLUNTARILY goes to camp (he also wouldn't call you during the potential youth training camp thing)

-down for quickies anywhere

-i feel like he would be into getting caught by both girls and boys because now they know you belong to him and he belongs to you

-sooo yeah <3 ain't he lovely

-his teasing is crazy btw if you hadn't gathered that from the anime that is like "who said you could come, slut?" and "yeah baby, doing well-" it's like two hell and heaven differences

-his aftercare is amazing though because he shows his soft side

-lightest teasing maybe

-protecc at all costs

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘YAMAGUCHI TADASHI∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

-masochist for a change bc well kei

-really really really gentle with you during sex

-safe word needed!! he gets overboard sometimes

-doesn't really moan that much contrasting to public opinion

-more groans and grunts

-loves to be cock-warmed

-no quickies nuh-uh

-kind of afraid of getting caught to be honest

-no kinks though tadashi's average when it comes to sex

-no phone sex either i guess he's the type of guy that FIRMLY believes that his cum only belongs in your pussy and nowhere else

-squeezes you hard when he comes

-i really shouldn't be doing this at school when i'm supposed to be working but integrity doesn't exist

-i hc that if you want to experiment smth with him

-he would do it with you <3

-overall a fluffy relationship

©marikosenwrites 2023-2024 all rights reserved. i do not own any of the haikyuu characters mentioned. please do not repost on any other platforms or translate them. likes, reblogs, and comments are welcomed! <3

tell me if you want more characters!

[forgeofthenine]

The bachelors are bachelors no longer! How would they grow old with you? Secondarily, how would they respond to being grandparents?

Ironically I wrote this while staying at my Nans house. I'll be here for the holidays so the next few posts will also be written here, I just thought this was particularly thematic. Halsin was also a perfect fit for this prompt too, so I hope you don't mind me adding him in :)

How would the bachelors (+Halsin) grow old with you and respond to your growing family

Dammon

This blacksmith was sure he'd live the bachelor life for the rest of his days

Who'd want to marry a man so obsessed with his forge that he's basically personified it?

Apparently, he's found the one person out there that can appreciate all his quirks

As the two of you grow older I actually see him stepping back from his forge more

He's already taught your children how to handle the family blacksmithing business, giving over the running of it to your eldest daughter and son-in-law with one of your younger sons happily working there too

As much as it saddens him the aches and creaks in his joints make the work too hard on his aging body, and his hands aren't steady enough for the delicate detail work he used to do

You can't keep him out of the forge completely though, and he still visits regularly and helps with drawing the designs of new projects and commissions

When he isn't hovering over your children's work, he's with you and the grandkids

Dammon settled into a domestic life surprisingly well, and he's a very doting grandfather

He's the type to insist you buy extra treats because he knows a specific grandchild likes it and will be coming over to visit

He always volunteers you two for babysitting as well, the spare rooms in your house that were once your children's now belong to their kids

It's a life Dammon is content with, a large family surrounding him and you by his side, he really couldn't ask for more when he never expected to get this much

Zevlor

Zevlor is built to be a granddad, I'm saying it now

He loves you, his kids, and his grandkids more than anything

As an even older gentleman he's actually still very active

The type of old man to insist on going on long strolls after meals, and he quite happily runs your little hobby farm with the help of your kids

You have a smaller, close knit family

With children living just down the road, while your kids work or take care of the home you and Zevlor happily take the grandkids for entire days

He shows them the same things he showed his kids, things like how to tie shoelaces, to ride a horse, and to wield a sword

You'll see them all trudging back in for lunch, covered with dirt and grinning as they try and hide from you

Even in his older age he's very patient, happily listening to his grandbabies babbling as he feeds them

Speaking of food, Zevlor would want his main meal of the day to be at midday

Once he gets older he doesn't like the feeling of sleeping so soon after a big meal

He does start to take naps, however, and sometimes you'll see him passed out on a comfy chair with a grandchild sleeping on top of him

If no grandchildren are around he'll likely drag you into napping with him too, there's something special about napping with someone else

Zevlor lives a very charming life at the end of the day, and he couldn't be happier about it

Rolan

Rolan is the grumpiest old coot on the block

Absolutely the type to yell at kids to get off his lawn, if he actually had a lawn

Alas, he only has a tower and instead he teaches your only child the art of mastering the weave

As he grows older he somehow seems to grow grumpier and even more introverted

Without you there to drag him out of Ramaziths Tower people likely would've assumed him dead years ago

The only people that see his softer side are you, your child, and your grandchildren

And your grandchildren love coming to the tower, wanting to look at all the pretty things and see their granddad do magic

You know the magic shows that Rolan did for his siblings? He does them for his child and grandchildren too

Speaking of Cal and Lia, he's a doting uncle for their kids and grandkids

It ends up with all three of your families meeting up at the tower for all gatherings and holidays, despite Rolans prickly attitude

It's absolute chaos, and the wizard secretly loves watching everyone joking and having a good time

On a random note, he absolutely teaches your grandkids how to read and do arithmetic at a young age

He insists on reading them bedtime stories whenever possible too, and they love it because he does the voices

Rolan is the one that thought he'd be least likely to be a family man, but it turns out he fits that role quite well

Halsin

You and Halsin run an entire orphanage together, you end up with absolutely loads of kids

Only a handful are your biological kids and you also end up with a full-grown owl bear, but you love them all the same

Halsin is very long lived, even for an elf, and if you're equally long lived then you'll end up keeping the orphage going for literal hundreds of years

Over that time the two of you might see three or four generations of humans grow up, your former charges often coming back to visit with their own children and grandchildren

You end up being a pair of old, happy parents with an impossibly large family

Halsin revels in it, finding a true passion in raising kids into happy and functional adults

It's apparent in the way he grows into the role, happily spending decades retelling the same favourite bedtime stories about him and his companions saving the sword coast

He continues to dote on you too, no matter how old you both get

The elf always reminds you how beautiful you are and how much he loves you

Halsin adores his grandkids too, often having them come for sleepovers or to play with all the other kids

He loves nothing more than seeing everyone safe and content, an owl bear happily trodding along after him

You'll find he insists on running the orphanage for as long as possible too, almost on deaths door by time he finally passes it on to his children to take over

Halsin is a very passionate man, and his giant family is one of his greatest passions

[polakina]

Nonnie from that Javier request here again 👁️

Javier has been rotting my brain for days now but an addition to this is Charles.

We know from that bar fight mission in Valentine that Javier and Charles have different tastes in women but what if they somehow land their eyes on the same lady? Who just happen to be someone the gang newly recruited.

Javier who makes the funniest jokes with flirtatious undertones and keeps the drinks and songs going(definitely the more fun of the two), but also Charles who's more touch than talk and ALWAYS has his hand on her lower back (I'm frothing at the mouth for this).

nonnie i love u, never stop sending these requests

i took this on a slightly different route than what i was expecting to write, but i hope you still like it :)

rating: mature

hard to ignore

It had been a few months since you had joined the gang. Time had flown by, with the heists, the jobs, the hunting. Everything. But you’d gotten to know the people quite well.

Arthur was quiet, but he was sweet. Hosea was one of the loveliest men you’d ever met, which also made him one of the most dangerous when it came to his scams. John and Abigail argued so much that it became white noise to you at night. Micah was an ass. That’s all you had to say about that man. 

Javier was…an interesting personality. He was kind to you. He played guitar well. He always managed to catch your eye across the fire at night in camp. You always smiled, meeting his gaze.

“Morning, querida,” he’d always say in the mornings. “Looking beautiful as ever.” His accent always did something to you. The purr in his tone, the gravel in his voice, especially in the morning. He was a smooth talker, and he knew it. From your perspective, this was how he acted with all women. How you thought he approached every lady who came his way.

But when night fell, he turned into a different person. He was a confident man. In the way he walked, he talked. How he moved through the camp, interacting with everyone on his way to the campfire. How he presented himself, bringing life to the party. Camp always seemed more lively, more fun when he brought himself into the centre of it.

Drinks were flowing just as the sun dipped behind the hill. The guitar was pulled out and its strings were plucked in a melodious tune that got everyone dancing.

It was almost as though he was singing for you. To you. His eyes never left yours when he sang those songs. Those songs that made everyone sway in couples, in a harmonious dance. God, he was good at it. Good at making you feel seen. His entire focus was just on you.

“Enjoying your night, conejita?” He smiled as he made his way over to you, two bottles of liquor in hand, passing one over to you.

“Don’t call me that,” you rolled your eyes, the corners of your lips upturned. He called you bunny. A playful little endearment you’d noticed in your first week of being here. You only realised what it meant when you were strolling through the south end of Saint Denis; an older gentleman called his wife the same thing and you’d asked him what it meant. “Bunny,” he’d said. “My wife, she’s like a cute little bunny. So the name stuck.”

Javier smiled brightly at you. “But it suits you so perfectly, conejita.”

You rolled your eyes again, unable to hide your smile at this point. He was always so upfront with you, never left anything to the unknown. If he didn’t like you, it’d be blatantly obvious. But if he liked you, the entire camp knew. There’d be signs. Not even subtle ones. With you, he found an excuse to come and talk to you, even if you were doing menial tasks like laundry. He’d keep you company, sometimes help out with whatever you were doing. Javier liked to compliment you a lot. Like, a lot. 

Compliment you in ways that made you hide your blush sometimes. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you look in this light, conejita?” “Don’t look at me with those eyes, they’re too pretty to look away from.” The man had a way with words, and you never knew how to respond.

Charles was quiet when you had first joined the camp. Kept to himself mostly, just like Arthur did. But there was something about him that drew you to his nonchalant personality. His large build, strong hands, deadset glare. He was handsome. So goddamn handsome. Never a part of the group, not really even during parties or meals. 

He stayed by himself in the first few weeks of your introduction. He always kept a wary eye out in the camp, and you’d caught his eyes lingering on yours a few times, but often times you thought it was your imagination. He’d not spoken to you for a long while in camp until you were the one to approach him.

But now, months down the line, you knew it wasn’t your imagination. He looked right at you now, not staring in a strange way that made your skin crawl, but observing you. Fascinated by you.

Charles didn’t speak much. He didn’t have to. It was his touches and how he handled himself around you that told you everything you needed to know about the man.

No matter how many times you assured him you could dismount your horse, or scale a wall, he was there. To help you. Always offering a hand, or stabilising you on unsteady rocks. The two of you often paired yourselves together on jobs, since you worked well together as a team. 

Around camp, he’d become a lot closer with you. His hand finding your lower back when he was behind you, so you knew he was there as he reached around to grab another bottle of liquor. His hand outstretched to help you up after you were sitting on the floor by the campfire for too long, your legs aching from the weight of your body resting on your ass.

But his favourite thing was when the wind blew a little too hard, and he had the excuse to brush your hair out from in front of your face. He stood taller than you, a lot taller. His build was wider than yours, more muscles in his arms and chest. The muscles in his back contorting and stretching when he mounted his horse. You looked. Of course, you looked. It was hard not to.

Javier and Charles had different ways of getting your attention. Javier was more talkative, complimenting to you, a lot more confident with his words. Charles, however, took his time with things. He liked to watch from afar, casting small smiles your way whenever you looked over. He communicated with his touch, his hands, his light hold. But Javier communicated with his words. You couldn’t tell which one you preferred more. 

Both of these men knew that they equally vied for your attention. They saw it everyday. They didn’t mind. They didn’t see it as a game to compete for you. They liked how flustered you would get from each others advances.

So maybe…you wouldn’t have to choose between them. Since they seemed perfectly happy working together to get your attention. Maybe, just maybe, you could be selfish and have both.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Precious Truths: Part 14

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: After your father finds out you’ve been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month’s time.

A/N: yall i still can't believe sophie is asian. im so frickin happy dude. yerin is gonna be amazing. i just know it. anyway, enjoy!

Series Masterlist

You hide behind your hand as you snort with laughter. Benedict is beaming beside you. Hearing your laughter again makes his heart soar.

After your mother-in-law granted permission for his visitation, he immediately prepared himself for the trip to France. He was excited to see you, but he was also nervous. Therefore, he dragged Eloise with him. His younger sister wasn't in the mood to witness another pair of lovesick fools, however, she had never been to France. So she took up the opportunity to regardless. At the moment, a part of her regrets accompanying her brother.

"Hang on, how did you not know she was married?" Eloise asks Benedict.

"I never saw her wear a ring and her home didn't seem like a man lived in it!"

You chuckle, shaking your head, "How is it you always find yourselves in such situations, Ben?"

"Because he is an idiot, Y/N," Eloise responds and you laugh. Your laughter even brings a smile on Eloise's face, "Sorry to change the subject, but I hope you have been well, Y/N."

You softly smile at the young woman you always saw as a sister, "I'm getting better, Eloise. It definitely helps that you and Ben are here," you rest a hand on Benedict's and Eloise's, "Your company was very much needed."

"Always here to help," Benedict says softly.

"You didn't say long you'll be staying here for."

"Madame Montclair has allowed us a week, unless you grow tired of us."

You scoff, "I will never grow tired of you, Ben," realizing what you said you add, "And you, Eloise! Don't tell your siblings, but you two are probably my favorite Bridgertons."

Eloise hums, "Oh, please, Y/N. We already knew that," she bumps your shoulder with a cheeky grin and you two giggle.

Benedict watches as you and Eloise discuss your current works. Every once in a while, you'd turn to him and ask him a question. And every time your eyes fall upon him, the world goes quiet and he feels at ease.

________________________

Benedict gets along well with your mother and father-in-law. They, too, are fond of the arts and are in deep conversation with Benedict and his time at the academy here in France.

You can't help but feel a sense of pride fill you as Monsieur and Madame Montclair laugh at Benedict's jokes, praise him for his successes, and, overall, displays an openness to him. However, James had told you that is just how your mama and papa have always been. Good people.

Their relationship often makes you think if that's how your parents would have turned out if your mama hadn't passed early on. Would your father still love and care for you? Would he be happy and proud of your success as a writer?

The thought of him made you lose your appetite. You place your fork and knife down with a frown, immediately bringing you to the attention of papa.

"Are you alright, ma fille?"

"I apologize, I've suddenly lost my appetite. Is it alright if I step outside for a moment?"

Mama nods, "Yes, of course. Shall one of us go with you?"

"I will be alright. It'll just be for a moment, excuse me." You look to Ben with a nod and then to Eloise. Everyone watches as you exit the dining room.

Benedict clears his throat, "Forgive me if this seems inappropriate, but how has Y/N been doing from your perspective?" he asks the older couple, "She's only told me that she has her good days and bad days, but nothing truly more than that."

Madame Montclair sighs, dabbing at her lips with her napkin, "It is true. Much like my husband and I, Y/N feels as though she has accepted her life without James. Other days, it's hard to even go about her day without being stricken with grief. But as the months have come and gone, I think she is slowly healing. Her desire to go back out into the world becoming stronger and stronger. She will be going back to London after your visit."

Benedict and Eloise look at each other in surprise, "She hadn't told us that yet."

"Ah. Well, I apologize for that. I'm sure she was going to tell you. But I do think it's good that you two are here. I can already see she's happier."

Benedict softly smiles and nods, "Yes, well, my sister and I care a great deal about Y/N."

"That much is very clear, Mister Bridgerton," Monsieur Montclair says, "And I hope when she returns to London, you continue to care for her. We, too care a great deal about her." The older man gives a stern look to Benedict, one like a father scolding a son.

Benedict nervously clears his throat, "Yes, of course, sir."

_______________________

You're sitting on a bench outside, letting the air cool you. You're not sure how long you've been out there, but Benedict comes out with concern etched all over your face. He sits beside on the bench, hand grabbing yours to warm them, "Are you alright?" he asks, using his breath to warm your now cold fingers.

You sigh, "Yes. I'm sorry to leave dinner like that."

"It's fine. I just want to know what happened."

"Just watching James' parents made me think of my own. They made me wonder if, had mama not died, would they end up like that? Happy and proud of me? Would papa still love me and admire my work rather than scold me and cast me aside?"

Benedict squeezes your hand, "I understand. I, too, often think about how life would be if my father didn't pass. But I think it's best not to dwell on those things. If you get too caught up in it, you miss out on the wonderful things that are happening now right in front of you."

You hum, looking down at your fingers intertwined with Benedict's, "My aunt once told me after my mama passed, that in death, there is life. New beginnings. I suppose she is right. After mama's death, started my desire to publish my writings. With James' death, he brought you back into my life." You stare into Benedict's eyes, seeing how soft they are as they look back at you.

You find yourself leaning closer and Benedict is too, "Ben-"

"Everything alright?" you hear Eloise as she approaches and you two immediately create some distance between each other.

You clear your throat and look over your shoulder, "Yes! We were just about to head back inside."

"Very well. Make haste, it's cold out!"

___________________________

Your almost kiss with Benedict kept you up that night. You've been mentally scolding yourself for your weak resolve. He had only been staying with you for a few days and you are already throwing yourself at him. Your heart has always been weak when it came to Benedict. Even after falling in love with James, your love for him never compared to the love you had for Benedict. You always knew this.

However, it hasn't been a year since James had passed and you're already moving on with another man. You can't in good conscience do such a thing to James like that, even if he already knew how your heart had always belonged to Benedict.

Still. You need to control yourself around Benedict no matter how much your heart yearns for him.

[topguncortez]

“i’m worried that if we go there, and things don't work out... things might never be the same.” with rooster! please and thank you! :)

prompts list:) thank you for the request!

All of Rooster’s life he was told that everyone gets one “great love” in their life. His mother’s great love was obviously his father and the one reason why she never remarried. Rooster could remember when he was about 13 or 14, asking his mother why she never remarried. It had been over 10 years since his father’s passing and Carole had never so much as looked at a male the way she did Goose.

“Because it wouldn’t be fair,” Carole told her son, a sad smile on her face, “It wouldn’t be fair to marry a man knowing I couldn’t love him the way I love your father. He was my great love… and I’ll never find another one like that.”

Bradley wondered if towards the end of her life, when she was alone in the house for those last couple of years when he was off at school, if maybe, just maybe she wished she had someone there. He asked her again, on one of the last good days she had, if she wished she had found someone to spend her life with.

Carole again, gave him a sad smile, “It wouldn’t be fair. There’s only one person I’ve been praying about seeing again.”

Bradley hadn’t realized it at the time, but the older he got, the more he envied what his parents had. “A Great Love” that was as if it came straight from a romance novel. “A Great Love” that held steady for years, despite his father being deceased for more than half of it. “A Great Love” that seemed to come so easy to them but for Bradley, was nearly impossible.

Except, it wasn’t impossible.

No, Bradley did have a “Great Love”, in the form of the neighbor girl who lived in the blue house next door. The girl who used to make mudpies with in the backyard. The girl who teased him relentlessly when he got braces only to end up with wires on her own teeth a couple of weeks later. The girl who is his best friend… and is currently crying on his couch over her now ex-boyfriend.

“A-And he was saying stuff and I-“ You sucked in a deep breath, trying to will the tears to stop falling down your cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Ducky," Rooster said, using the age-old nickname, even though he wasn't in the slightest sorry. Sure, he felt bad that you got your heartbroken, but he was celebrating the fact that Douchebag Dan was finally out of your life, "You deserve better."

"I thought he was the one!" You sobbed, "He had me sending him ring options!"

And suddenly Bradley hated Douchebag Dan even more than he did fifteen minutes ago when you showed up at his doorstep.

"Hey," Bradley said shifting closer to you, his thigh touching yours, "You know what this means though, right," You looked up at him with big sad eyes and the most adorable wobble of your bottom lip, "Your great love is still out there."

You rolled your eyes, "I'm starting to think that's a hock of shit," You flopped back on the couch defeated, "I've dated three guys in my lifetime all for over two years and none of them have put a ring on my finger," You held up your hand, wiggling your ring finger, "It's just not going to happen. I don't have a great love."

"Sure you do."

"Where!?" You looked over at Bradley, "Where is mine?"

"Maybe, you're looking too hard for it. Maybe they're closer than you think," Bradley simply shrugged, reaching for his beer bottle on the coffee table.

"Yeah?" You quipped, "What about you? Have you met your 'great love'."

Bradley sucked in a breath, knowing he couldn't lie to you about this or hell, about anything, "Yeah," He admitted, "But she doesn't feel the same."

You felt a pang in your heart, causing you to sit up, pulling your legs underneath you, "Does she know?"

Bradley shrugged, "I think so. I mean, I-I've known her forever."

"Oh," You were trying to rack your brain of the potential girls that Bradley had his heart set on, "Do I know her?"

"Mhm," Bradley pursed his lips, taking another sip of his beer for he stupidly gave himself and his stupid crush away. A stupid crush that could mean the end of the longest, greatest friendship he has ever had. You were the one thing from his childhood that had managed to stick around. You were there when his mother died, when his dreams of following his father's footsteps came crashing down, when he got his acceptance letter to UVA, when he graduated flight school and got his wings, when he graduated from TopGun.

All the major memories that Bradley had, you were always right there. He couldn't let a stupid crush end that. He couldn't let his heart and his feelings complicate things. He couldn't-

"It's Phoenix, isn't it?"

Bradley spat his beer out of his mouth, coating the coffee table in sticky alcohol. Your eyes widened as he coughed and wiped the beer from his lips.

"What?" He choked out.

"Your great love," You muttered, "Is it Phoenix?"

"Hell no," Bradley shook his head, "That-that's crazy."

"Not really, she's pretty and you're around her all the-"

"It's you," Bradley cut you off.

You felt your heart stop in your chest as you stared at your best friend, "W-What?"

He sighed, hanging his head in shame, "It's you, Y/N. It has always been you. You are my "great love"."

"Bradley, I-"

Bradley shook his head, "I didn't mean to do this. Not when you're upset over Douchebag Dan, but. . .fuck, I can't take it anymore," He stood up from his spot on the couch, beginning to pace, "Watching you go with guys who have no idea what it means for you to look at them like they hung the fucking stars. To have you love them and kiss them and be with them day after fucking day. I love you, Y/N. I have been in love with you."

Fresh tears were in your eyes as you looked at the man who is your best friend, "Why didn't you tell me?" Your voice was barely above a whisper.

"Because I’m worried that if we go there, and things don't work out... things might never be the same," Bradley's big brown eyes shone with unshed tears, "And you're all I have left. I can't lose you."

"You won't lose me," You stood up from your spot on the couch, walking over to him, "Cause I love you too," You grabbed his face in your hands and placed a kiss on his lips.

[billthedrake]

RECONNECTING WITH BRODIE

Mmm... that feels nice, bro.

Bring it in Brodie... your Matt's got you. There... lean back against me.

(chuckles) You're sweaty.

We're both sweaty.

Hm, didn't know you could get like that going slow.

Slow and long, buddy. We were at it almost an hour. That's why.

(Pause) I sometimes wish Dad would go slow. Usually, it's... I wish I could tell him to go slow.

(sound of a hand patting tight abs) You can, Brode. You should.

(sigh) I know. I just want it to feel good for him. It's weird but now that we're boyfriends, I dunno....

Boyfriends talk about shit. You should tell him.

(more resolved) I will.

(soft kiss to the head) You're all jacked Brodie... when did you get so big?

Since last Spring. Been working on it. You guys should come to visit more often.

I know. It's complicated.

I know. I just miss you guys. Dad does too.

I'll be back for your graduation. I'm sure Connor will, too.

Hmmm.... I like the way you touch me, Matt.

I can't stop feeling you up.

Then don't.

You OK with me shacking up with you tonight, buddy?

Oh yeah. I figured that was going to be the arrangement. You know, with Dad and Connor having their date night.

Doesn't mean you have to like the arrangement, Brode. You OK with them together?

I'm not jealous. And Dad... well, he kind of encourages me to be with other guys.

Have you?

A couple, yeah.... Damn, Matt, whatever you're doing with your hands is boning me the fuck up again. Already.

Connor doesn't like this... after he cums, he's done.

Dude, he's missing the best part.

(chuckles) Maybe you should tell him that.

I fucking will. Seriously, Matt, you should became a masseur or something.

I have a day job already.

I know, I'm just saying.... mmm, a little lower, oh fuck, right there.... making my cock leak and you're not even touching it.

So Brodie, be real with me bro... how's the boyfriend thing working out?

I know I seem messed up, Matt, but it's been mindblowingly awesome.

Doesn't seem like this bed's been slept in much.

Bro, I haven't slept in my own room since I got grounded.

(laugh) Dad grounded you?

(laugh) Yeah, back in the summer. For breaking curfew. Three fucking weeks. He thought he had to act all paternal, you know.

How was that?

Dude, I was pissed. And we were fucking blue balled for three weeks. The make up sex was pretty intense, though. Kind of made it worth it.

Yeah?

Oh yeah. Only time I think I really loved it hard.

Jesus.

You're getting bricked again, Matt. I can feel that big cock against my back.

(soft kiss to the head) Just hearing my little brother talk like that is wild.

Huh. I think that's why I wanna get big. So you guys will stop thinking about me as little.

(Pats chest) It's not about size, Brodie.

I know, Matt. Still, I wanna get big. Bigger than Dad eventually.

Bro, I'm bigger than Dad. He's solid, but he doesn't lift.

I'm surprised you ended up with Connor, actually.

I love Connor's body. But it's more than that.

Yeah?

He's my brother, like you Brodie. But we've always been especially tight. Grew up together. And maybe I go for the smart ones. (chuckles)

That's cool. I guess go for the strong, silent type. Connor probably does too.

He does. (scoots) Here, let's shift a little.... much better, Brodie.

(soft kisses)

Fucking nice.

Yeah, Brode... fucking nice.

Man... your fucking arms are insane.

Connor likes 'em.

I bet he does. Fuck.

Brodie... I don't wanna be the older brother who's always lecturing you, but life is more than muscles you know.

(chuckles) Easy for you to say.

(smiles) Well, feel em all you want, buddy.

I will.

(More kissing. Deeper, longer)

You're so hard, Matt.

Guess I have a fresh pump from my workout this afternoon,

No, I mean your cock.

Oh yeah, it's been like that the last fifteen minutes. I got my stud little bro in bed with me.

I'm not little, Matt.

You're not. 6'5" (kiss) tight end body (kiss) D1 ready.

Hmmm.

You ready to break some hearts at Stanford, bro? (kiss)

I'm a little in denial actually.

Bro, that letter of intent is signed. Big fucking accomplishment.

I know. I mean about going off.

(sigh) You gotta, Brodie. Gotta leave the nest. Become your own man.

I know.

You know... Dad's gonna have empty nest syndrome like crazy. You can probably get your way for the next few months.

Yeah? (chuckles) No more being grounded?

No more being grounded.

Shame, I'll miss the make up sex.

Dude, homecoming sex is just as good.

Fuck.

(wet kissing)

You think that's what Connor's going to feel tonight?

I know that's what Connor's going to feel.

He's probably not going to tell Dad to go softer, is he?

Knowing Connor... no, no he won't. But don't compare yourself to him, Brode. Him or anyone else.

I guess.

You're Dad's favorite, buddy. He worships the ground you walk on.

Yeah. Matt... you wanna fuck me again?

You know I do Brode. But let's take our time. We got all night.

You must think I'm an impatient kid.

You're a horny fucker. I like that.

(kissing)

Jesus, Matt. I'm gonna try this out with Dad.

Try what, bro?

The whole slow thing. I'm so fucking horny with you.

(kissing)

I can only imagine what this would feel like with Dad.

Tell him, Brode. Make it happen.

I totally will.

(kissing)

Jesus, Matt, I fucking love your muscle. My big brother.

You're fucking jacked for 18, bro.

Mmm... does Connor get into it?

Yeah he does.

Does you guys, you know, ever do any worship stuff?

You mean body worship? (softer) We've done that.

Hot. (softer) I wanna ask Dad to try that too.

(chuckles)

You think I'm weird.

Hardly. I'm just picturing Dad doing a worship session with you.

He's not very verbal.

No he's not. I think I heard him say 10 words all through high school.

(laughs) Come on, Matt... he's not that bad.

I exaggerate. But not much.

(kissing)

(ooof)

Fuck yes.

You like that buddy?

I love you on top of me, Matt. How much you weigh?

250.

2-fucking-50. Fuck.

Does Dad know you curse like a sailor.

(laughs) He once grounded me for that, too.

I remember that. You were testing his authority.

Dad doesn't like that.

No, he doesn't.

Thought I was gonna get whipped, too.

Dad wouldn't do that.

I know. But fuck, I really thought he was gonna get the belt, he was so mad.

Brodie, you called him the c-word. In front of Mom.

I was there, remember? We laugh about it now.

Mmmm... feel my arms stud. You like those.

Yessir.

(kissing)

Damn, Matt.

Damn, yourself. Someone taught you how to kiss.

Yeah. Dad.

You're a better kisser than him, bro. For real.

(more kissing)

How do you think date night is going?

Sure you're not jealous, Brode?

Sure I'm sure.

Connor misses Dad. A lot.

You don't?

I do, too. But...

I know... it's complicated.

(kissing)

OK if I tease the hole a little Brode?

You gotta ask?

Sometimes it can get uncomfortable keeping your legs spread.

(smirks) Sounds like you speek from experience, Matt.

Some. Tried it but realized bottoming wasn't for me.

Dad?

Dad. And a couple of dudes in Chicago. Never felt good.

For what it's worth you're an amazing top, bro.

Thanks. I have some amazing inspiration beneath me.

Oh fuck, you're big.

You took me just now, Brodie.

I did. That was thirty minutes ago.

Who's counting?

Fuck.

Easy buddy, just gonna work it in and out.

That big brother cock.

Yep, that big brother cock. In my little bro's tight hole.

I'm not little, Matt.

(smiles) And you're not gonna be tight when I'm done.

Jesus.

(heavy breathing)

Connor's one lucky dude.

Mmmmh....

Hope that wasn't the wrong thing to say.

I can take a complement.... gonna go in with more.

Please.

Goddamn, that jock hole is amazing. So wet....

That's all you, Matt.

I can see why Dad has you sleep in his bed each night. Fuck.

He doesn't make me, bro. I wanna.

I know.

Jesus, how much did I cum?

You don't know?

(laughs) I thought I did. But fuck... (choked grunt)

Why'd you stop?

Shhhh...

(whispers) Is that them?

(whispering back) Yeah.

(kissing)

(quiet) They're gonna fuck.

Yeah Brode, they will.

So fucking hot.... you in me, while Dad bones C.

Shit...

That turns you on too.

Hell yes it does.

I can tell. You're rock hard inside me. Alive.

If I tell you something will you keep it a secret, Brode?

Course.

If Dad asked me on date night while I was here, I'd say yes in a heartbeat.

God you guys are so fucking stubborn.

I inherited his worst traits, Brodie.

And his best.... oh fuck me, man.

Like this?

Yeah, just like that. So fucking nice.... I don't know how you even go so slow.

It's because it turns you on.

You like me whoring out for you?

I don't like that word.

Sorry.

You don't have to apologize. I just don't like my little brother thinking of himself that way.

Unng.... deeper, man.

Ummmf.

Yeah. Fuck me.

Your voice even gets deeper when I fuck you Brode.

Just fucking shove it in me already, bro.

Slow, remember?

(laughs) You're killing me.

Like that.... yeah... you feel it.

God!

I wanna get us both there, bro.

You're gonna, Matt.

Feel me up, Brode. Feel my muscle while I fuck you.

You're bottoming out now.

I'm bottoming out.... I'm not as big as Dad.

You're big enough. Fuck.

You're a firecracker, bro.

Goddamn, Matt. I love this.

Me, too, buddy. Hang on.

Oh fuck... oh fuck.

Turns out I have more than one speed, little bro.

Fuck me, Matt!

Huhnng.... they're gonna hear us Brode.... they're gonna hear me fuck you.

FUCK ME!

You naughty fucker. Hot fucking ass.

So wet. I can feel your dick sliding in and out.

My cum. It's frothing up.

Dude, you're fucking railing me. Stirring it up.

Ung... ungh... ungh...

Matt, just fucking cum... Fucking cum up my hole.

Almost there, bro.... too fucking hot.

Fuck me like Dad fucks me.

Jesus. FUCKK!

YESS!!

(heavy breathing) God.... that was....

Stay in me bro... like that... saw that brother dick in and out while I stroke...

Go for it bro.... Your Matt's got ya.

Yes... oh, I'm gonna.... oh yeah... oh fuck... SHIT!

Stud!.... shit, that's a big load.

(laughs) Jesus, yeah. Guess the slow thing really works one up.

OK if I pull out?.... whoa I wasn't kidding... you're all frothed up, bro. Like a...

You were gonna say 'whore' right?

I wouldn't call you that, Brodie. But fuck...

We're even sweatier now.

Got my cardio in that's for sure.... damn these sheets are fucking soaked.

Maybe I should change them. Put these in the wash.

You're not doing a damn thing. Just relax. Bottom's prerogative.

Dude, is that even a thing?

(chuckles) For me it is. A man puts out like that, I'm taking clean up duty. OK?

OK.

(kissing)

Damn. Dad definitely didn't teach you how to kiss like that.

You haven't kissed him in a while, Matt.

I know. Still.... my brother's got game.

(smiles)

Where are the clean sheets? I'll go get them.

Wait a second, OK?

What's wrong?

Nothing's wrong. I just royally fucked twice. I wanna hold the man who did the honors for a second. OK?

Mmmh... yeah. Sorry. How's this?

Perfect.

(kissing)

You know, Connor chastises me for not being romantic enough sometimes.

You guys bicker a lot?

Our fair share. It's been more since Connor moved in with me.

I keep waiting for me and Dad to get like that.

Whaddya mean?

You know... argue... like a real couple.

Dude, he fucking grounded you.

(shrugs) Yeah, he was being Dad, though. That's different.

(kissing)

Mmm, nice...

I'll say.

You know... I think you should tell him, Matt.

Tell who? What?

Tell Dad you wanna go on a date. You guys are here, what? Three more days?

Bro, it's fucking Christmas.

So?

All right. (light slap on flesh) OK... time to change these sheets. They're fucking drenched.

You're totally going to listen in to see if you can hear Dad and Connor, aren't you?

(laughs) Maybe.

(chuckles) OK, perv. I'm gonna shower off. Maybe you can make me a midnight snack while you're out there. You know, bottom's prerogative.

You got it, Brode. And breakfast, lunch, and dinner tomorrow, too. Just now... that was frickin' incredible.

I agree, Matt.

[grand-theft-carbohydrates]

-the old king is dead, long live the king- (edited version)

I was thirteen years old when I ascended the throne. My memory of the most important day of my life--exceeded by only my birth--was nothing but a frenzied whirlwind of fanfare. It's difficult to describe the experience if you've never been in that position, but I'll do my best. I felt helpless, out of control, like a rider on a runaway horse; I could do nothing except cling on for dear life and pray for it to be over soon. One false move could end with me bleeding and lifeless on the palace steps. 

I had started the morning by vomiting discreetly behind the royal carriage, and my mouth still tasted sour. Eunuch Zhao, one of my long-time attendants who was not much older than I but already impossibly calm and worldly, had held onto my robes so they wouldn't get dirty. Afterwards, he rubbed my back and whispered raunchy jokes into my ear because he could see I was on the verge of tears.

The tears were not for the dead king, though I let them believe it was. Custom dictated I had to wear the mask of the filial son in the same way I wore the cumbersome long guan and the heavy, brocaded robes. My life had always been full of these flourishes that served no practical purpose, and I was used to it. I only dared to be honest in the privacy of my mind. I'm glad he's dead. I thought viciously whenever the roiling feelings in my heart threatened to break their banks. I don't care. I don't care. He had it coming. Does this make me heartless? Maybe so, but I'd rather be heartless than dishonest. The truth of the matter was that I had no sympathy for the lofty stranger they called my Father, always doling out judgement and criticism from on high--who had callously abandoned my mother and I in the middle of enemy territory all those years ago and only deigned to fetch me when it was convenient to him.

The arbitrary nature of filial piety had always rubbed me the wrong way. Why should I worship a man just because he sired me? Even dogs and pigs can do that much. If someone wanted my respect, they should have to earn it first. If the ancient kings of Zhou could lose their heavenly mandate through incompetence, then so could a father lose the love of his son. I would have been more saddened by the death of a single, hard-working farmer. A farmer would have at least contributed a single grain of wheat for my bowl, and that would still be miles more than Father ever did for me.

My tears were not for the dead king. I was mourning myself. Mourning the boy who had once been Ying Zheng, that dreamy little idiot who had been content to spend his days lost in his studies, chin on the windowsill, convinced that he was safe and unimportant. I knew I would inherit one day, but I had naively assumed it would be years down the line. After I had a chance to travel the world, marry, and finish my education. Never in a million years could I have guessed it would be like this, with the former king dead under murky circumstances, an overbearing regent who had skyrocketed in power, and myself thrust suddenly into the open without a single ally in my corner. 

With the pounding of the procession drums still echoing in my chest, I bowed in the four cardinal directions and lit the ceremonial ding, moving carefully to avoid knocking askew the guan, which was an unfamiliar weight on my head. The next thing I remember was climbing the stairs to the throne. An attendant supported me under each arm. Zhao Gao had been left behind at the foot of the steps, along with my carriage and the rest of my servants. These eunuchs were the Prime Minister's creatures; they looked docile now, but I knew they were as trustworthy as vipers. I can still remember the stern lecture Prime Minister Lu gave me at yesterday's rehearsal. The King is supposed to move ponderously as if weighed down by the affairs of the state. He must not rush. He must not trip. He must not stutter, or cry, or misbehave in any way. 

'Why not dress a lapdog in my regalia and call it a day?' I thought bitterly and felt more bitter still because I did not dare to voice these thoughts. Lu Buwei was the one who made my father heir back when he was nothing but a useless middle-ranked prince. Father was so grateful he promised to make Lu Buwei the prime minister when he became king. After that, a series of incredible coincidences happened. My Grandfather died just three days into his rule. My father died within three years. Now, it was my turn to sit on that unlucky throne.

I might be inexperienced, but I am not stupid. Grandfather was not old, and Father was not sickly. Life and death might be the domain of Heaven, but there was plenty that mortals could do to speed up the process. Nothing could be proven, of course, but one common thread runs through these events, and his name is Prime Minister-Regent. He benefited every step of the way, and now he will benefit more. Even a child can tell you that a thirteen-year-old king is easier to control than a thirty-year-old one. 

I sat trembling on the throne as hundreds of my father's ministers--now my ministers, if only in name--bowed and scraped, reciting in unison, "All hail the King of Qin! May His Majesty live ten thousand years!"

Construction for my mausoleum began on the same day.

notes:

someone left a ton of nice comments on my gao jianli fic so now im on a writing roll!

ying zheng's critique of the one-sided power dynamic of filial piety is a representation of his non-comformist mindset and willingness to break from tradition. his administration also did away with heritable titles and awarded positions based on proven competency.

he's still a semi-idealistic person at this stage. i want him to start high so we can watch him fall and see his values become corrupted.

im going to try to work the extracts i wrote about ying zheng's childhood + his dad's backstory into the Ode To Grief -verse. current plan is to just publish them in the order they were written, with some edits.

[ateez-himari]

[ARCHIVE] FLIGHTLESS BIRD

...

A whole lot was happening back then Don't know why things are so hectic I'ma bring back my memories, I can't even remember

Hushed conversations echoed through the apartment building as the seven trainees opened the door to their shared space, only to still in shock at the sight of movement on their couch, although the figure was much too small to pose a threat. Tension instantly dissolved when the living room lights revealed that the strange shadow was none other than the young girl they had become closely acquainted with over the past months, sleepy eyes struggling to remain open. In what seemed near panic one of the older members ran over to take her in his arms, brushing away hair strands still dripping with melting snowflakes while inspecting every visible inch of skin.

'What are you doing here, Hima ?!' He nearly yelled, causing his sister to flinch slightly. 'I'm sorry I just...does Hanzo know ?'

'Nii-Chan is still locked up in his room, but I left him a note saying that I was coming to visit you!' She said proudly, holding out a bus ticket. 'Aunt-...mom and dad said we'd go together but they had to work late again...so I came alone.'

The shattering of a normally hardened heart was almost audible as he realized what was implied in this short explanation; with the only remaining biological tie she had being completely lost in grief, there was no one at home to care for the clearly distressed child and much like every other day, loneliness haunted her. It should have been tears marking her flushed cheeks, yet the usual beaming smile so adored by their town's elderly remained unmoving, as though nothing was wrong, as though the weight of independence was not placed upon her frail shoulders.

'G-Go greet everyone, I'm gonna get you some milk.' He finally spoke up after clearing his throat, hurrying into the kitchen.

Running into the young men's arms, the little girl who remained blissfully unaware of the emotional breakdown her brother was nearing with every thought regarding the situation at home began introducing them to the small tiger plush sent by their oldest sibling. While closing the fridge, the rapper in training could not help but to admire the radiant smile adorning bruised lips, taking a moment to laugh at the little fangs he had always found rather odd. Perhaps this was what happiness truly felt like, not simply certain moments in life but the appearance of someone so bright they acted as the sun chasing away grey clouds without effort.

...

When the younger rapper entered the living area with the intention to relieve stress by watching whatever movie channels would play at this hour, he found the lovely intruder sound asleep on her brother's chest as one of his hands soothingly ran along her back, the other thoughtfully hovering over a gauze covered ear. Watching this loving interaction made him realize that this broken little girl was one of the few things keeping his friend going in such hard times, yet this was also saddening news as he knew the weight of life made him rely on her unknowingly.

Their bond brought warmth into everyone's hearts as despite the harshness of trainee life the members had watched their friend take the little time they had off to pick her up at school, to teach her basketball, to take her to the zoo, spending almost every second taking care of his unfortunately neglected sister. The older members however were aware of darker truths behind this relationship as they bore witness to the impact his poor mental state was having on this already fragile girl, one drunken night revealing that it was her who saved his life while in the midst of grieving. They knew the man made desperate attempts at becoming the presence she was missing, yet the child kept so closely to herself that it was clear most days were spent with very little interaction, leaving her to navigate an unsure world alone.

'What the hell am I doing, Hoseok ?' The man asked absently, pulling the blanket over his sister as she stirred slightly. 'I've been with her since she was a baby, but when she needs me the most, when her entire world just fell apart, I can't even show up.'

The responsibility had fallen on his shoulders out of nowhere during a time where he could not even care for himself, and not once could he blame the girl's biological brother as grief was slowly eating the young man alive no matter how hard he tried to fight. Times where the high schooler stepped outside for more than academics seemed almost distant to their sister, who often slept in front of his door as an attempt to feel even the slightest hint of his warmth that once served as comfort during stormy nights despite the lack of response that her endless affectionate actions faced.

'I don't think she sees it that way.' His friend carefully sat next to the couch, observing the sleeping figure for a moment. 'Hima is such a loving soul, I doubt hatred is even part of her vocabulary. The world is just too harsh for someone like her...that's all.'

'We'll make it.' Yoongi whispered. 'I have to make it all worth it, I can't have abandoned her and Hanzo for nothing.'

Hands that had never once trembled until this very moment gently grazed over the fresh scars that seemed much too foreign on once flawless skin, finding some humor in the fact that they closely resembled tiger markings. He wondered whether this was the universe claiming that her soft demeanor was hiding the fighting spirit of this animal, or whether this was simply some sick joke after having forever broken a heart too pure for this universe.

'I promise, I'll make you proud.'

[alwaysonf1]

now?

Pairing: Charles LeClerc x Hamilton!OC

Genre: Slice of Life; Fluff

Word Count: 502

Warning: N/A

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: Dates and times don't matter.

The days before media day are usually ones where drivers aren’t expected to be at the track for long, but this is a track that has been off the calendar for so long that none of the twenty drivers feel comfortable enough to leave exploring it for later in the week. Especially Charles, who has walked the thing twice and is halfway through a scooter “walkthrough.” His mind is focused solely on mapping things out and imagining himself in his car taking the route. It’s a struggle, but it’s helping calm his nerves.

A hand slamming down onto his shoulder throws off his concentration and startles him. Other drivers have gone by him, but he’d been alone for several minutes. 

As he calms his racing heart he meets Lewis’ gaze. He wishes he hadn’t though. Charles has rarely seen the older man look angry, he hides it well even when he’s voicing displeasure, but right in this moment Charles feels fear enter his body. Something tells him he’s in danger, though he can’t fathom why. He opens his mouth to ask questions, but Lewis raises his phone so that it’s eye level with Charles. That makes him a little more confused, but then he squints at the screen and his heart rate picks up again.

“No, no, no, no. It’s not what…”

“I know it isn’t. At least it better not be?”

 Charles shakes his head. “It is not.”

“Then how are you going to fix it? I don’t appreciate my sister seeing shit like this. And I don’t like the comments it’s bringing to her social media.”

“I… I didn’t know that that was up. I would have… This would be down and I would have dealt with it if I knew.”

Lewis softens, but not much. “Well, you know now, fix it.”

With that he leaves. Lewis’ scootering away doesn’t deescalate the heightened emotions Charles feels and George appearing and following Lewis doesn’t either. Even if the Brit turns back to give Charles a tense, but reassuring smile. 

Another thing he would know about him, but at least this time Charles would know how George got the information.

But he couldn’t even find it in himself to think about that for too long, pulling out his phone and hopping online to see all the posts he’d been tagged in. They’re tamer than the ones he wasn’t tagged in and his hand unconsciously moved to his hair to tug at it. 

Of course, the one time he would have preferred to not be seen with an ex he is, while all the other times it wouldn’t have mattered, he'd flown under the radar. He’s sure that the rumors about him and Iman are partly to blame for the increase in eyes on him, but he can’t bring himself to blame the girl who’d seen them that first time or the people at the club.

“Fuck!” he shouts.

After taking a breath, he pockets his phone and races back to the garage.

charlesleclerc Maybe be sure about who I give my affection to before posting.

immyham charles

‎ ‎↳charlesleclerc mon ange, I told you I couldn't help myself

logansargeant RETWEET

‎ ‎↳lewishamilton retweet

‎ ‎↳georgerussell retweet

↳alex_albon retweet

↳lilymhe retweet

↳oscarpiastri retweet

user not him just full on hard launching

↳user It's not like we didn't know

user Oop not the grid in the comments also calling y'all out? Even Oscar. Apologies with tears from all of you immediately.

user They're so cute

hateruser Oh...

user And y'all better not bring up his ex either.

user he told y'all to shut the fuck up LOL

immyham well my soft launch is ruined, but i'm still going to post this because it's cute. maybe when someone learns to not go rouge he'll get his own dump

lewishamilton Why you make it look like I was flipping you off?

‎ ‎↳immyham uh because you were????

charlesleclerc I won't say sorry, mon ange.

‎ ‎↳immyham 🙄

user he calls her mon ange 😍

user They're so cute

user and y'all swore charles would never

user HA I WAS RIGHT

user logan and her looking like menaces to society

user not her failed soft launch including all three of her favorite men. immy is so cute

hateruser Ew, he should have gotten back with his ex.

[elronds-meleth-nin]

Bruinen's Eastern Shore - Part 1: Flight

This is set just prior to the events of the first Hobbit movie, so take that how you will. I'll probably have four parts for this fic. If anyone wants to be tagged for any future fics or updates, let me know and I'll start a taglist. Anyway, this is my first LotR related fanfic, so enjoy!

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Elrond x Reader

[A/N: I haven't seen RoP, and I don't plan to, so this is Hugo Weaving's Elrond. All of my knowledge regarding this universe comes from the Jackson movies and the books.]

Warnings: Slow burn, Elf x Human romance, age gap (obviously, I mean, he's over 6000 years old), mentions of combat, death, blood, undefined magic (I'm winging it rn so uh...don't think about it too hard).

~*~

"Thank you again for taking the time to meet with me, Lord Elrond," the Man said as the pair walked through Elvish halls. The stone was older than the Human by several thousands of years, yet the Elf lord was there when they were first carved into bricks for construction. "I know your schedule is full to bursting–"

"Nonsense. I am always pleased beyond measure to speak with you, mellon-nin," the Elf interjected as they walked into his study. "Tell me, how are your people holding up with this new threat?"

That was precisely why the Man had come to Rivendell, in the first place. Even as nomads, Orc attacks used to be few and far between for his people, happening perhaps once or twice a year, but in the last six months alone, they'd repelled four assaults. Their losses were becoming concerning. The Man, their leader, decided that the time had come to seek advice and possibly assistance from one much wiser than he.

"They are shaken...frightened by even the smallest of things. The snap of a twig, a particularly loud howl from the wind..." The Elven host offered his guest a seat near his bookshelves - a quiet nook which he reserved for serious conversations or quiet contemplating - and took in his haggard expression. That Elrond understood more than anything. Remaining strong when you were just as afraid as the people whom you were trying to protect was a difficult task. Such endeavors could wear heavily on even the most seasoned and confident of commanders. "They are doing their best to remain strong, but I must confess, I-I am becoming less certain every day about the wisdom of my insistence that we keep moving. Perhaps we should find one good, defensive position and dig in..."

Elrond could see his dilemma.

"But if you took such an action, you would feel as though you were cowering, is that not so?" He offered no judgment and no solutions. Not yet. He wanted to guide his friend along the path to finding his own answer, not force his hand in one direction or the other. That was not his place. That was not his purpose.

The sigh that escaped the Man's lips was ragged, and his shoulders slumped slightly as if the weight of all Middle Earth was upon him.

"I know 'tis prideful, but our people have never shied away from a fight. To dig ourselves into a trench...that would feel too much like desperation. And, each time the Orcs returned, they would know exactly where to find us and how many more it would take to breach our defenses," he muttered running a hand through his hair. Once vibrant and full of color, the strands were flecked with gray. The Elf lord was reminded quite starkly of how much of a toll time took upon the mortals. A pang of sorrow twisted through his heart. After over six thousand years of life, he was well aware that death was a natural part of life for those species who were irrevocably tied to mortality, but his heart ached no less for his friend's eventual fate. "If we keep moving, though, they still manage to find us. Each attack grows in strength. Every time, more and more of my people fall upon enemy blades."

Elrond nodded his head with sympathy and understanding.

"Have your people offered any suggestions about what you might do?"

The Man stood abruptly and began pacing.

"Mekor put forth the idea of joining with a stationary settlement - just until the hoards are cleared, you understand," he said, but he shook his head. "I did not tell him, but the last time we were near several of the major cities, I...scouted ahead. I spoke with their leaders, explained our situation."

"And?"

"And, they all said the same thing: 'I cannot in good conscience allow you to draw such large numbers of orcs to our gates.' The difference is that they at least have gates behind which they can defend themselves," the Man paused near the window overlooking the valley. "And you know why I cannot go to the Rangers."

The Lord of Imladris drew in a deep breath and stood, making his way to his friend's side and laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Is there any help that I could offer which you would accept, mellon?" His question was quiet and probing, yet free of judgment. Elrond knew well the pride of Men and their desire to act as independently as possible. That would not, however, stop him from helping where he could. He would even go so far as to bring these mortals into Rivendell to stay. It was, after all, a refuge for just such an occasion.

After a long moment of consideration, the Man cleared his throat and lifted his chin as if to preserve his dignity.

"Our swords are old. Chipped and cracking. Several shattered during the last skirmish. And our supply of arrows and bow strings is...woeful. The few who were skilled at replenishing both were killed two months ago."

"I'll have Lindir draw up a list of supplies. No matter how small your need is, please tell him everything. We are more than happy to give you whatever help you require," Elrond said, and he could have sworn that the Human's eyes were filling with unshed tears of gratitude. Neither Man nor Ellon mentioned it. Trying to restore his friend's smile, at least to a small degree, the Elf lord changed the subject. "Tell me, how is your daughter faring through all of this?"

The grin that stretched the Man's lips was warm; the love he held for his only child shone brightly in his eyes, restoring some semblance of youth to his weathered features.

"She believes that this is all one big adventure. Though she be only a few years old, she is curious...asking more questions than I rightly know how to answer," he stated proudly. "She has her mother's intellect, and I am glad of it. I am no teacher, but I've managed to convey to her the meaning of a few words of your language."

Surprise was surely evident upon Elrond's face at his friend's declaration.

"Mellon-nin, I am honored."

"She'll need to be able to communicate with your people once she discovers what she is." The Human reached into his pocket and pulled out a small book, flipping it open and retrieving a loose piece of paper. "My late wife, as you know, was the artist of the family, however..."

He trailed off as he offered the page to his host. Elrond took it carefully, looking at the sketch of a little girl.

"Your daughter?" He asked almost reverently as he took in her joyful expression. Even in this simple drawing he could see the intelligence behind her eyes. After a few moments' keen observation, he tried to hand the drawing back to the Man who'd created it but was gently refused.

"Keep it. I brought you that, my dear friend, because if something happens to me...I want you to be familiar with her likeness. It will likely be vastly outdated by the time you meet her, but 'tis better than nothing." The somber tone of voice made Lord Elrond pause. "She is more important to me than all of Middle Earth, and if...if the Orcs take me from her, I must know that someone in this world knows to look out for her..."

Setting the sketch on his desk, the Elf placed his hands on his friend's shoulders.

"Should either of you ever need help, I will be there. She will have every protection that I can possibly afford her," he promised.

"There is...something else," the Man murmured looking into his friend's eyes. "It could be no more than an old man's imagination, but things have happened around her. Small things. Rain repelled from her as if it cannot touch her. Ripples in a pond by which she sits, though no breeze caressed the water's surface."

Elrond's posture straightened further at this new information. He knew that the blood of Númenor was thin in most, but if this was true, his friend's daughter might have a rare gift.

"Have no fear, mellon-nin. Your daughter will find her path, and if I can, I will gladly help her."

By the time of the Man's departure from Rivendell, Elrond had prepared a gift. With the weapons and extra supplies that he presented, the Lord of Imladris had one other item to offer. Opening a small, wooden box carved with Sindarin script, he revealed a silver necklace. The craftsmanship of his people was evident in the intricate curls and swirls of the metal. In the center was a forest green gem that, to the Man, seemed to glow with its own light.

"This is for your daughter. The pendant is a symbol of our protection - proof that she has favor with us. All she ever need do is show this to any Elf, and they will do whatever is necessary to assist her. If none of my people are near, she need only touch it and ask for help," Lord Elrond promised, and as if the gem could hear him, it pulsed with a warm, affectionate glow. The girl's father looked from the necklace to his friend, and this time a tear slid down his cheek as he offered his profuse gratitude. "I would be remiss to do anything less, mellon-nin."

After tucking the box safely away in his saddlebag, the Man embraced his friend. Neither knew that it would be for the last time.

--

"If you find yourself in danger, seek the elves of Rivendell."

My father repeated that to me more times than I could count as soon as I was old enough to comprehend the meaning behind his words. Our people were nomadic, constantly moving from place to place, setting up camp wherever we found ourselves. Every time we stopped, he made sure that I knew two things:

The first was the location of the nearest source of water.

The second was the way to Rivendell from our temporary encampment.

Long before I was brought into this world, my father ensured that we were on friendly terms with the steward of the valley. Each time we were even remotely close to Imladris, he made a point of speaking with the Elven lord.

Once, when I asked what Lord Elrond looked like, he brought out a small box of my mother's sketches. Rifling through them, he made a triumphant sound when he found the one he sought. Setting the box carefully aside on his bedroll, he had me sit beside him and turned the page toward me.

"The last time your mother and I visited, she made a point of drawing him. You must remember his face, my little love. One day you might need to request his help as I have done."

Much of the time, our wandering took us far from that sacred valley and the river that flowed before it. The final time that my father was able to visit, he brought back a gift. A necklace.

But it wasn't just a necklace. There was something about it that sent a wave of calm assurance through me. A sense of safety permeated my being every time I touched it. The cool metal seemed impervious to the elements, never rusting or tarnishing, as only the skill of the elves could accomplish. More than once over the years, I found myself looking at the pendant, wondering about the being who'd given me something so obviously unique on a whim.

Two decades and a handful of years later, I found myself sprinting through the trees with half of our remaining people. We were twelve desperate souls, flying through the underbrush with a hoard of Orcs behind us. Every few steps, I aimed an arrow behind me and prayed that it hit its mark upon my release.

"Come on! We're almost to the river!" I shouted, and my father's second in command, Mekor, let out an answering shout as we approached the ford. The snarls of Orcs and their Wargs nipped at our heels, urging us to move faster.

As much as it hurt, I was forced to ignore a terrified shout as the pack swallowed up one of our tired stragglers. This was a last ditch effort. If we stopped, we'd die.

Eleven.

Struggling for breath, I urged my people toward the sound of the Bruinen River and its eastern shore. Arrows from our pursuers flew through the trees, embedding themselves deeply within trunks and flesh alike. A few screams began and were silenced abruptly.

How many was that? Two? Four? No, we could count our dead once we were safe. Any who fell behind at this point were beyond our ability to save. Fifty Orcs against less than a dozen Humans? We would be lucky if any of our number survived the crossing.

Aiming another arrow backward, I allowed myself a moment's relief at the injured shriek of a Warg and the sickening crunch of its rider's bones as both crashed to the ground. Adrenaline rushed through me as the treeline appeared before us. The grass beneath our feet became a mix of pebbles and sand, rocks and mud.

"Quickly! Cross the river! Make for the eastern shore!" I shouted, and a few of the remaining people in our group echoed the sentiment. Two were cut down before they cleared the trees, their gurgling cries sending a bolt of helplessness through me even as I nocked and released arrows to buy time and space for my people. A few splashes reached my ears, and I prayed they'd make for the trees.

A yell of my name sounded from behind me.

"Come on! Get clear!" Mekor sounded much closer than I would've preferred. I needed him to live.

There were too many of them for me to hold off alone, so I turned and ran, beginning to cross the ford as quickly as I could. The pendant beneath my shirt thrummed against my skin, and an arrow whizzed by my ear so close that I could feel the displaced air from its fletching. That was too close for comfort. Much too close.

For the most part, the Orcs were afraid to cross into this territory. The Elves defended their land fiercely against such filth, after all, and very few of the cretins were stupid enough to seal their fate so definitively. However, a few who were brave enough - or perhaps foolish enough - to risk death started into the water after me. Not yet having reached the shore, I turned, grasping for arrows, but my quiver was empty. With a quiet oath, I turned and ran toward the trees. My boots were drenched, my lungs ached, and I blinked away sorrowful tears at having lost so many souls so quickly.

With a forest as ancient as this, the trees were rumored to whisper to each other and to those who remembered how to listen. The Elves listened.

Lord Elrond listened.

"Get to the trees!" I shouted, then I dug my hand into my shirt and grabbed the pendant. "Help us! Please! We're dying!"

The few brave Orcs who made it across and had not been shot down instantly apparently lent courage to their fellows. The Warg riders began to cross the racing waters, and I felt a horrible sense of dread settle into the pit of my stomach. The sight of boots disappearing into the trees was all well and good, but the Orcs would follow.

Someone had to make sure that they were distracted.

I had but one shot.

--

About an hour before he and his soldiers engaged the Orc hoard, Lord Elrond of Imladris had a vision. His gift of foresight showed a group of terrified Humans racing across the Bruinen with countless Orcs behind them. He was about to send out his guard, but the face of the young woman fighting so hard to protect the others made him pause.

He knew her face. She was older now - quite obviously an adult - but he still recognized the intelligence in her eyes and the determined set to her jaw.

More than that, the sparkle of the pendant that had escaped the collar of her shirt made him freeze. Icy dread washed over him as the vision changed to show her fleeing toward the trees. Her voice floated into his ears as easily as if she'd been standing right beside him.

"Help us! Please! We're dying!"

Elrond did not hesitate.

"Lindir!" He shouted as he began donning his armor. The younger Elf rushed into his lord's study. "Lindir, have my horse saddled. And ready a group of fighters. Hurry! Orcs are coming!"

When Elrond and his warriors caught sight of the group, the Orcs and Warg riders had just begun crossing the river. The glimpse he'd caught an hour before of her hair swishing over her shoulder as she fought repeated itself before his eyes, including her plea for help which now sounded as it should - like a whisper echoing through his very being, drawing him toward her. As he watched, she doubled back on her path, rushing back into the water.

She was trying to draw the focus of the Orcs away from her people - there weren't many Humans left. He urged his horse faster, his heart a racing drumbeat in his chest accompanying the galloping of his mount. He would not allow his friend's daughter to die within his borders while these lands were his to protect!

He'd just drawn his sword when the river's water began to whirl around her. Creating a wall between the Orcs and the remaining Humans, the water roared and flared with a shout from the woman. She lifted her arms, shoved them forward as if pushing a heavy weight, and the wall of water crashed over the majority of her enemies, washing them away as easily as pebbles in a current.

Magic. She'd performed magic! Her father had been right all those years ago.

But it was not the time to ponder her abilities. The time had come for him to fulfill his promise.

She'd bought just enough time for Elrond and his riders to reach the Orcs and cut down those who remained. Blades hissing and flashing, the Elves felled them easily.

By the time he turned back to the river, he saw her collapse onto the sandy bank, panting for air. He recognized the sight instantly: she'd overextended herself. Dismounting with a swish of his cloak, Elrond ran to her side, dropping to his knees and sheathing his blade before turning her gently onto her back.

Her glassy, exhausted gaze met his, and recognition flashed through her clever eyes.

"Elrond o Imladris, boe ammen veriad lîn." The words fell easily from her tongue despite how close she was to unconsciousness. She'd practiced them before.

"You have it, my lady," Elrond murmured, and almost as soon as the words passed his lips, her eyelids closed and she went limp in his grasp. He lifted her into his arms, cradled her close to his chest for one selfish moment, and with a few orders to his men to round up any survivors, the Elves brought their charges into the Hidden Valley.

~*~

Elvish Translations:

mellon-nin = my friend

Elrond o Imladris, boe ammen veriad lîn. = Elrond of Imladris, we need your protection.

[aziraphales-library]

Hello and thank you so much for your service for all this years! My question can be a little too specific so if fic strike at least some of points it's still cool. I'm looking for human au with heavy accent on Aziraphale and his angelic siblings. It can be something nice and family fluffy, sure, not all in his family is a dicks, but I'm thinking more about something like Aziraphale dealing with years of family abuse and finally relearning how to live without shame and fear; Crowley getting to look at Aziraphale's family close after years of "they are nice we just don't get along" and being utterly terrified; Crowley helping Aziraphale to learn to stand his ground and being all proud when he got it; Crowley and Aziraphale bonding over familial traumas; etc. Also can be with hints of season two, like Aziraphale trying to reconnect with family or saving Muriel (or even "Jim") from same abuse and being all gentle and understanding (and making Crowley proud again). Absolutely no to victim blaming (I mean from Crowley or author pov, from Aziraphale's or family pov sure), preferably without heavy fatshaming, preferably older Aziraphale and Crowley (no to kid and teen aus, meh to college/young adults, yes to 30+ and absolutely YES to 40+). Great if it's longish and kind of plottish fic! Super great if there would be autistic Aziraphale, not cis Aziraphale, in any way disabled Aziraphale, religious trauma, cptsd and did I mentioned supportive Crowley? Btw it can be not Aziraphale-centric fic, if it's just romance or even Crowley-centric but themes are there, I'm interested. Anyway as I said it's probably too specific so anything that "kind of close" will do. Thanks in advance!

Here are some adult human aus in which Aziraphale's family are Not Nice...

The Long Road Home by TawnyOwl95 (E)

Aziraphale Heavensby only knows about love from books. So when he's given a chance to experience romance first hand he grabs it as hard as he can. Even if it can't last. Even if Aziraphale’s father has very definite plans for his future. Plans that certainly don't include Anthony Crowley.

Drink You In by FinnsKeeper (G)

Aziraphale Fell owns a rather popular bar in Soho London. His life is relatively calm and predictable until he meets Anthony Crowley one fateful night. When a first date goes wrong, Aziraphale has to take measures to protect his newest patron. Anthony's gratitude quickly morphs into something deeper, and Aziraphale has to battle his own demons to determine if those feelings are true or just a product of his impromptu rescue.

Someone by Diminua (M)

This was a kinkmeme prompt and as usual I can't do better than to paraphrase the OP : Aziraphale is a frumpy, middle aged man, who's closing in on 50 : he's spent his entire life alone, mistreated by his family, and living like a modern times hermit in his familiar, reassuring bookshop. He thinks it's too late for passion. But he hopes that, maybe, he could find a companion for his latter days. Crowley has spent his entire life having a wild time: parties, sex, rock n roll, all that jazz. He flew through the 80s, the 90s, the new millennium like a car on fire. He thought he had time, thought he'd be young and surrounded by people forever, thought with fling after fling after fling, someone would find him. Someone would look at him and choose him. But no one ever did. To paraphrase (again) - they turn to an arranged marriage company. And they fit..

Dating in the Dark by miraworos (E)

Anthony J. Crowley, owner of a failing joke-shop, and Aziraphale, bookshop proprietor with an overbearing family, meet as contestants on a blind dating show. They form an instant connection as roommates but soon find themselves at odds as they compete to win the top spot, and the favor of the same lady.

The Ghost of Husbands Past by A_N_D (E)

Az always knew that he’d be thrown out the moment his father found out he was gay. He hadn’t expected to be declared dead though - or for his husband to believe it! But their marriage had been a foolish teenage impulse (not to mention invalid in America), so when Az moved to a small town far upstate New York to start his new life, he moved alone. The kindest thing he could do was let Crowley mourn and move on, not be shackled for life to a now disabled partner. Tony Crowley never recovered from losing his best friend, his childhood sweetheart, his better half. He’d been drifting ever since; no plans, no hope, no money - and now, just before Thanksgiving, no job either. Given the stark choice of freezing to death or accepting his sister’s invitation to join her upstate, Tony reluctantly lives out the Hallmark cliche of Recently Unemployed Person Moves to Small Town for Christmas. It’s a time of hope, love, and family. It’s time for Az and Tony to find each other again.

love like yours (will surely come my way) by CCs_World (T)

Dr Zira Fell is a new professor of theology at St Beryl's University. His first day there he meets the mysterious and enchanting Dr AJ Crowley, an art history professor and a painter. They almost immediately become friends, and spend most of their time getting lunch together, talking, drinking wine, making art, and falling slowly in love with one another. Featuring cameos of everyone's favorite (and least favorite) characters, gratuitous descriptions of paintings, long text messaging conversations, and one cranky cat.

- Mod D

[mangoguy]

Displacement (2/2)

John "Soap" MacTavish('09) x Reader x John "Soap" MacTavish('22)

Warnings: Mentions of character death (Ghost and Roach), no y/n used, no pronouns other than they/them used a few of times.

You can't help but find it difficult to get used to your new surroundings.

_

It's finally here!!! I meant for this to be out a week after the first part, but school got busy lmao

Read the first part here

There are a few things you have noticed after being thrown in here.

One, the year is 2023.

Two, You are married to John (or Johnny as he likes being called) in this timeline.

And three, you don’t work in the military, you are no longer with Task Force 141.

That third one hit particularly hard. Your task force was a huge part of your life along with John.

You faked memory loss, thinking it was a smart move for now. You doubted they would even believe you if you started spouting that you were not from here. Even to you, that sounded crazy.

‘Because it is…’ you thought bitterly.

This universe wasn't in World War III, you weren't complaining though, that was the mission after all. You still had a hard time adjusting, especially with him around, Johnny. The man who wears your husband's face. Well, you guessed you're even… since technically you were wearing his wife's face? That's how you saw it anyway.

He was worried about you, often asking if you were okay. You could never really answer him, just stare and nod. You felt so foreign here, out of place, and you missed John so much it made you ill. You wondered what happened to him? Was he okay? Something told you he wasn’t. With where your mind was going this was going to be a long hospital stay…

It's been two months since you've woken up. Your mind convinced you it was some weird coma dream.

‘People have those, don't they?’ You thought, staring out the living room window. You felt silly mourning the loss of some older version of yourself and Johnny. It was morbid of your brain to think of how Ghost would die, or mourn the loss of two others you ‘barely knew.’ You found it funny how Price looked in your dream, older, a little unhinged. Gaz was what scared you the most in terms of dream Gaz, you didn't want to think about it.

You met them briefly, Task Force 141, Johnny's teammates, and friends. They all seemed very concerned about you, maybe even a little guilty like they caused the accident. You assured them you were fine and mentioned that the doctors said you were healing quite nicely.

“Aye, but they… have memory loss, can't remember a damn thing… the doctor said it looks severe,” Johnny spoke in a hushed whisper when you went off to fetch something.

“They can't remember anything?” Kyle spoke.

“Yeah, and I'm talkin’ like their whole life, it's like they're a new person… Can't even remember our weddin’ day, our first meetin’, or… anythin’” Johnny could feel his heartbreak just speaking it out loud. A painful reminder of what happened, he thought maybe someone was punishing him. Probably was, for the things he's done. He gave a deep sigh, as Kyle gave him a reassuring pat on the back. Price and Simon both frowned, giving the Scot a sympathetic look, that's when you decided to enter the room again.

“Bonnie yer… are ye okay? Ye've been starin’ out the window for a while…” you heard Johnny speak softly. You turned to look at him, nodding your head softly.

“Yeah sorry, just… I guess I'm reminiscing on some weird dream I had while in that coma,” you admitted.

“Hm? Dream ye say? Do ye want tae talk about it?” John sat near you on the couch and pulled you into his arms. It was comforting being in his embrace.

“Hm, not much to say other than… I guess I just dreamt of a whole other life for us? You were there, though you were a bit older… definitely more handsome in my dream,” you gave him a cheeky grin.

“Looks like I've got some competition,” he paused to chuckle softly. “But older you say? Were ye dreaming of tae future or somethin’?” Johnny asked.

“Hm, you could say that… though there are differences in dream John and you in real life.”

“Aye… and what's that?”

“Well for one he was a bit taller than you,” you snickered.

“Aye!”

“And well he didn't have an arm tattoo, like you do he had one on his neck, a revolver,” you paused to think, your mind was getting a little muddy on details.

“Oh! And your scars are different, that's all I seem to remember at the moment...” you finished. Johnny was silent for a moment, absorbing this new information. It was nice hearing you talk again, even if it was about this mysterious other version of himself.

“Damn, sounds like one handsome bastard…”

“Johnny…”

“What I'm bein’ serious,” he muses.

Something weird was going on, you couldn't place your finger on it. It all started with a pair of jeans. What scared you was that you vaguely recalled wearing them somewhere. You placed them down on the floor and stared at them.

‘Of course, I wore them somewhere they're pants…’ You thought, thinking it was silly you were worried about jeans. You shook your head, grabbing them off the floor but that's when something slipped out from the pocket. One fell with a hard thunk and the other fluttered to the ground. You pick them both up. One was a simple wedding band on it was an engraving, two sets of dates

xx-xx-‘07

xx-xx-‘09

The other item made your heart drop in your stomach. Time seemed to stop as familiar sets of eyes were on you. John Price, Ghost, John “Soap” MacTavish, you. In the corner of the photo were the words ‘OP Kingfish.’

This was it.

The evidence that your ‘coma dream’ wasn't a dream after all. How could you think it was a dream? How dare this world make you think your John was a dream, your world. You assumed it was the universe trying to make you ‘fit in,’ but that begs the question, how did your stuff get here? You shoved the ring and photo in your pocket as you heard Johnny walking over to where you were.

“Hey Bonnie, are you almost done gettin’ ready? Simon texted saying he was at the bar already,” Johnny watched you as you put the jeans back in the closet.

“Yeah I'm ready, can't keep the man waiting,” you smiled though it didn't reach your eyes.

While watching Ghost and Johnny converse you felt the ring and photo through your pocket for the tenth time. You worried they would disappear and yet they never did. You stood up from your seat, getting the attention of the two men at the table.

“Just heading to the bathroom,” you spoke, walking towards the small hallway that housed the restrooms. You entered, taking a quick breather, your emotions were everywhere tonight. It was starting to annoy you, if you were being honest all you wanted was to just relax and enjoy the evening…

Even it felt fake.

Doing your business and leaving the bathroom, you noticed Johnny had a conflicting look. But when you approached he smiled at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you sat down.

“Everything okay?” You asked and he nodded, though you noticed it was stiff.

You ended up drinking, not a lot but enough to get a bit tipsy. You barely remember the car ride home, though here you are, in bed and snuggled into the blankets. You were reaching out towards Johnny’s spot but found he was not on his side of the bed. It’s cold, meaning he was gone for a while. You slowly sat up, groaning from a slight headache. You called out for him but didn’t hear an answer. You got out of bed and walked towards the living room, spotting him sitting on the couch with the table lamp on. He was staring at something, upon closer look it was the photo, your photo with your team. Your John.

You blinked once, then twice.

When did he get that?

Shit.

“What are you doing with that?” You asked, slightly on the defence.

“What am I doin’ with it? What are ye doing with this? What am I even lookin’ at?” He asked, looking over at you his expression inconceivable.

“It's… complicated Johnny, you probably wouldn't understand.”

He went quiet after that, rubbing his face in frustration, he then stared at the photo again. You needed to figure out where to go from here. You bit the inside of your cheek in thought.

“So, are ye from the future or somethin? Because that's what it looks like… we all look older in this photo… Plus why the hell are you in this photo anyway?” Johnny spoke up finally after a long silence.

“No… it's complicated…”

“Then enlighten me!” You could hear him getting frustrated.

“Fine… I'm… not from here, I don't know how to explain it! One moment I was someplace else then the next thing I know I'm here, in Scotland… In a hospital with someone who looks like my husband but isn't!” you didn't mean to sound so harsh, but all your feelings were bursting out.

“But I am yer husband, didn't you tell me ye were dreamin’ while in that coma?” Johnny tried reasoning.

“I lied, at first I thought maybe it was all a dream but how do you explain the photo and this? I know for a fact I wasn't dreaming I had a completely different life,” You pulled out the ring, showing him the engraved dates.

He stared at the ring, at the dates that were engraved then at the photo. He seemed a bit distant, thinking, processing.

“Is that why whenever I look at ye… It feels like I've lost someone… lost my Bonnie,” Johnny lamented. You were caught off guard by that. But you couldn't deny that you also felt a huge loss whenever you thought of John. The two of you stayed silent, grieving but didn't want to think about why. You refused to think your John didn't survive that explosion.

“I… guess you could say I'm from an alternate universe, god… that's even more confusing but makes the most sense” you decided to change the subject. Johnny finally looked up at you, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Aye… that sounds crazy… maybe-” he didn't finish his sentence but you knew he was probably still trying to find a reasonable answer. You couldn't blame him and this is exactly the reason you didn't bring it up. You decided to take a different approach.

“That photo was taken on a joint mission with Task Force 141 and Delta force, we were going after this guy named Vladimir Makarov, Intel claimed he was in this facility in Ukraine but he wasn't and it ended up being a trap… That's when John or my Soap, I guess I should say, got injured and Price was captured,” you explained. You were starting to sweat a bit, speaking that mission out loud sounded insane. It sure did catch Johnny's attention though. A dark look crossed his face at the mention of Vladimir Makarov but it quickly faded.

“Huh…” was all Johnny managed to get out, it was a hell of a story. You could tell he needed more convincing.

“Well, one person in that photograph isn't alive… Ghost, along with another member Roach were shot by a man named Shepherd…” Your eyebrows furrowed and you frowned deeply.

“Betrayed by him and his shadow company…” you seethed. That seemed to make Johnny perk up. From the looks of it, that story of yours seemed to hit a little too close to home. He gave you a thoughtful look albeit a concerned look.

“Well, shite… that just all but confirms your theory… But the question remains why are ye here? And how come yer body in yer time stayed there?”

“I don't know… it's not like I have the answers. I was literally on a mission to assassinate Makarov but then an explosion went off behind us and I ended up in that hospital.” You explained.

“Ye know… that sounds similar to what happened to my spouse, well they didn't work in the military but there was an accident that involved both me and them, they ended up taking most of the damage which is why they put you in a coma… but you already knew that,” he mumbled that last part.

“I wonder if that's related… but that still doesn't explain why I'm here…” You crossed your arms, sitting opposite from him on the couch. You stared at your reflection on the TV for a moment, observing your new skin, you often didn't look at yourself for too long. You found it troublesome and dare you say uncanny.

This whole situation was confusing, but you found some comfort now that Johnny knew and seemed to believe you. You did grow fond of him over the couple of months you've been here. It was slow, sure, unfairly comparing him to your John but you quickly came to realize that although they might share the same name and hair- they were different. That also made you realize something else though, something unpleasant.

"Johnny… I understand if you want me to leave, I am technically wearing your spouse's face..." you suddenly spoke. Johnny turned to look at you with a bewildered look on his face, silently asking if you were for real.

“That's a way to put it…” he mumbled with a long pause before speaking again, "...But I don't want you to leave."

"...Why?" It was your turn to be bewildered now.

"Well, is it bad I still want to be with ye? I know you aren't the version of my Bonnie I married but... you're still you whether you're fighting in the big fight or here making the house a home... I loved you in both timelines,” he suddenly proclaimed, bringing a hand over to caress your cheek. There was hope that maybe this could work.

That couldn't be a bad idea.

The universe brought the two of you together for a reason.

Words: 2,337

[dykephan]

my thoughts re: how did dan and phil kiss in october and still not start dating until december? from @omatone-dnp's post here :)

i'm sorry in advance for how much forbidden material i'm bringing up here, i feel bad about it which is why i'm putting it under the cut so i can delete this if i want to

so obviously we know they talked online & on skype for months before they decided to meet up in person, and they were heavyyy on the flirting. but we also know that these online spaces were the only places dan and phil were able to be 100% openly queer, so it's natural that they both put on a persona to some extent. this was the time for them to explore who they were & who they wanted to be. dan says he assumed phil would be this super confident smooth guy but then he was awkward and dorky irl, and it was kind of the reverse for phil about dan.

phil might have felt a lot of pressure to be a good example considering he was older, he was someone dan liked on youtube, and phil was one of, if not the first, gay man dan had met. but phil didn't have much romantic experience (...his heart had never done the flippy over thing..............) so i can imagine he felt even more scared of screwing things up. we know he was super nervous the day they met and that he didn't make the first move. i think he wanted to leave that to dan because 1. he didn't know if dan actually liked him or if he was just confused, and 2. he wanted to go at dan's pace for the reasons i mentioned above. we also know that phil had a hard time verbalizing his emotions / understanding them, so he might have wanted to go slower on the romance front too, so he could have time to process everything. he talked quite a bit about how he didn't know where he wanted to go in his life, feeling lost without being in school anymore, and that his family was pressuring him to sort his life out. that's a lot to deal with all at once and adding a serious relationship on top of that can be hard.

for dan, i think the early days were more about finding inner confidence in himself than they were about purposely forming a long term relationship. phil is the one who encouraged dan to make youtube videos, which he'd dreamed about but never thought he would be good enough. phil made him feel safer than he'd felt since he was a tiny child. he introduced him to other queer people and then to his family, who welcomed dan with love (though we don't know how much they actually knew at the time). it was more than just romantic!! it was something dan really needed! :(

at this time, both of them were constantly talking about how they're trying to figure out what to do with their lives, with dan being in his gap year and phil being fresh out of college. it was a transitional period for both of them in very different ways. they weren't even sure if they were going to meet irl, they kept going back and forth about the train tickets for a few months before dan finally bought one. i think as soon as he bought it, he decided he was going to shoot his shot and worry about everything else later.

also, dan was in a relationship with his girlfriend for 3 years, and while we don't know when or how they broke up, he has some tweets indicating that they were still together in 2009 when he began talking to phil online, or at least that dan was still conflicted about the breakup. let me clarify that i'm not saying dan cheated, none of us have any idea what happened and it seems more like their relationship came to a natural conclusion when she moved away for uni, along with all of dan's irl friends which he talked about frequently. i'm more so bringing this up because it marks a shift in how dan talked about love and relationships.

for example, all of these tweets happened in october 2009, right before he met up with phil:

but fast forward to THAT week in december and dan has a completely different perspective on love:

this is the main reason why december makes so much more sense to me as their anniversary. october was about taking a leap of faith even though both of them were afraid of getting it wrong. november was about testing the waters and figuring out how they could logistically make things work, while they were building their bond. december was about finally letting go of all those fears in the pursuit of a happier future for both of them ;-;