#like I’m so much better than I was and I still don’t feel like enough !!

[rebelfell]

rub one out┃(for your viewing pleasure-verse)

pornstar!eddie x director!reader

a cheeky (pun intended) bit of filth based on part of my blurb series. I was trying to keep the snippets short, but this just kinda poured out of me over the past couple days.

cw: sex work, simulated adultery, oral (fem receiving)

18+, MDNI┃2.8k

Maybe this was a bad idea.

You couldn’t escape the nagging thought as you stepped outside, tightening the belt on your fluffy white bathrobe, tugging at the terrycloth tail and twisting it in your fingers. Your eyes flitted to each member of your crew, all of them in position waiting to get this show on the road.

Why were you so nervous? You’d certainly done this enough times before not to get stage fright. So why did your stomach feel more tangled than the box of electrical cords in Lenny’s truck?

Part of you almost wished it would rain, or the ground would open up and swallow you whole so you didn’t have to go through with this. But the concrete remained solid under your feet, and the sky overhead showed no signs of altering its radiant blue color. Perfect.

It’s gonna be fine, you thought in an attempt to soothe yourself. It’s all gonna be fine.

And you almost believed it would be.

Sammy, who was barely a step up from an intern, had swiftly been promoted once the plan for you to replace your no-show leading lady was set in motion. You weren’t worried about her, though—she was smart and a quick study; she knew all the shots you needed, and she had a good eye.

If you couldn’t be behind the camera yourself, she was pretty much the only one you trusted.

Well…maybe not the only one.

Eddie’s eyes met yours as soon as you stepped out of the trailer. The sunlight hit his deep brown irises, making them glow the color of rich honey. But behind the liquid gold, you could see his own nerves and it made your stomach flip, wondering what he could possibly be nervous about.

“Hey,” he said quietly as he came up next to you. “You good?”

For a moment, you considered lying. Flashing him a thumbs up or shooting him finger guns like one of those tools you used to do this with. But you knew better by now when it came to Eddie.

“Nope,” you chuckled. “I’m kinda shitting myself.”

“Well, that’s just what the guy about to fuck you wants to hear,” he chuckled back.

A real smile breaks through your tense, fake one and a genuine laugh bubbles up out of your chest. Eddie’s eyes shine when he hears it and the sight makes your chest feel all warm inside.

“No, you’re right,” you said. “I’m okay, I just…don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

His plush pink lips pressed into a straight line, his tongue poking out as he licked them. He reached out a reassuring hand and placed it on your shoulder, rubbing it through your robe.

“You’re gonna be great,” he assured, sounding a lot more certain than you felt.

Easy for him to say. He’s a fucking natural.

Even on your best day doing this, you never felt like you were great at it—competent, sure. Maybe even above average. But not great. Not at all the way you felt since getting behind the camera.

You nodded tightly, your hesitation still written all over your face. His eyes scanned over you and he swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing. He then leaned in and placed his lips beside your ear.

“You look…really beautiful,” he said.

His warm breath rushed across your neck, the heat coming off his skin making your ears buzz. An explosion of fluttering began in your stomach, like there were butterfly cocoons in your cereal that morning and now they were all hatching.

“We should get moving,” you said, pulling back. “Burning daylight.”

Eddie straightened. He nodded and you nodded back, sliding past him to do final checks before you started rolling. Telling yourself he must have pumped or popped a Viagra to explain away that bulge in his pants that definitely wasn’t there before he came over to talk to you.

The nerves didn’t disappear once you started working, but your body and brain did snap into a kind of performance mode you remembered well.

You started with some still photography for the VHS box art—shots of you in progressing states of undress, your robe dropping off your shoulder, Eddie pulling it open to reveal your body, his hand running up your thigh in a slow caress.

He let it trail all the way up your stomach and chest until he curled his finger under your chin and tipped your face toward his, letting his lips hover just inches away from yours. Your eyes fluttered closed and your heart raced, thinking he might close the gap and actually kiss you—

But after the shutter snapped, he simply let his hand drop and backed away. 

The loss of his body heat sent a chill down your spine and you shivered despite the blazing sun overhead. Eddie’s eyes caught yours, the nearly imperceptible lift of his brow asking, ‘you okay?’ You nodded and another shiver skittered across your skin as you pulled your robe back up.

For the next shot, you climbed up on the massage table and he got into position behind you. His body pressed yours down, your back arching under him as he dipped his head low to take the lobe of your ear between his teeth, palming your exposed breast with his large, strong hand. 

You let your mouth hang open, not even needing to fake the look of desperation on your face. And let yourself believe Eddie’s excitement you could feel digging into the fat of your ass was real too. The little grunts and whines he let out when you wriggled against him certainly didn’t sound fake.

After the photos, there was nothing left to do but move on to the main event. 

You and Eddie reset—him standing in frame, you just outside of it. Sammy panned the camera around, establishing the setting, zooming in on the fountain feature in the pool and then coming around to film Eddie as he snapped a fresh towel and laid it out on the massage table.

From your spot off-camera, it’s impossible not to be mesmerized by the sight. Biceps rippling, tendons in his arms flexing as he smoothed the towel flat. His tattoos stood out even more than normal with him in white slacks and a white polo meant to give the impression of him being an employee of the resort. And the little twist your hair and make-up girl Jael did is something new that only further accentuates the thick column of his neck and his angular jaw.

He’d left off his rings and bracelets, as was typical when he was filming, and you couldn’t help but think about that day in the editing suite. When he’d touched your knee, and you felt the silver ridges press into your flesh. It had jarred you somewhat, how right it felt to have his hand there and how you’d nearly leaned in to meet his lips when you saw his face getting closer.

You hadn’t kissed him that day—promptly removing yourself from temptation in an attempt to salvage some shred of your professionalism. And you (mostly) felt good about that decision. It would have been reckless and destructive and your entire working relationship might have been compromised. You’d made the right call that day, you were sure of it. Mostly…

But today was different. Today, it wasn’t going to derail your career. If anything, your career was mandating you give in to those urges that had plagued you so relentlessly. And that was when it hit you all at once—the realization about as subtle as a train crashing through a wall.

You were going to fuck Eddie.

You’re going to feel firsthand what it’s like to have his face and cock buried between your legs; what it’s like to suck on his fingers and soak them with your spit before he presses them to your clit; what he sounds like when he comes all over your stomach or tits (you can’t quite recall what the script specifies, you just know it’s meant to be outside so he can dotingly clean you up after). 

The barrage of thoughts that storm through your mind are so consuming, you nearly miss your cue to enter the scene. But once you do, you’re rather grateful for the distraction of the set-up dialogue:

“It’ll just be me, today. My husband has a meeting he couldn’t get out of.”

“No, no, it’s not his fault. I got it as a surprise for our anniversary—I should have known better than to book it without checking his schedule.”

“I’m afraid I never know how much to take off for a massage…what do you suggest?”

Eddie answered your last question with a smooth, “Whatever makes you most comfortable,” and a smile so warm it would melt the ice caps.

Giving him a smile of your own, you slowly pulled at the tie of your robe. It fell to the ground in a heap at your feet and Eddie’s dark eyes roved over you hungrily. Now revealed to be completely naked, you feigned some degree of shyness: ducking your head low, looking up at him from underneath your lashes, brushing your hand over your stomach as though to hide it while really drawing his eyes to its plush softness.

“Is this alright?” you asked him with a coy smirk. Eddie grinned, still drinking you in.

“Absolutely,” he breathed. And the raptness in his eyes almost had you believing him.

You took your time getting up on the table, propping yourself up on all fours, letting him (and the camera) take a good, long look at the fullness of your hips before you settled in place. Arms at your side, you took a deep breath as you laid flat on your stomach, relieved there wouldn’t be much dialogue needed for this next part.

Through the little donut headrest at the end of the table, you saw Sammy’s feet as she moved in close—filming tight on Eddie’s hands while he pumped massage oil onto them and warmed it by spreading it between his palms.

Your chest tightened, nerves coiling in your stomach as you anticipated his touch, forcing your body to keep still so you didn’t pull focus.

He smoothed some oil over your skin, starting at the ankles and thoroughly coating your calves. The smell of clary sage filled the air, earthy and warm. And underneath it, a clean and woodsy scent you recognized as Eddie’s soap wafted up to your nose when he leaned in closer.

His fingertips began to knead your muscles, slipping and sliding easily over your skin that was slick with the oil. He made tiny circles with his thumbs, alternating back and forth as they moved in a steady pattern up your calf.

Oh, that’s right…

In all the hubbub, you’d forgotten the whole concept for this shoot was borne on the fact that Eddie went to massage school for real. He’d told you before, after he left his hometown (shit, what was it again? Hawk-something…) that he started collecting different jobs like merit badges.

Just bounced from thing to thing, trying his hand (sometimes both) at whatever life presented. And that included porn. He’d said he only auditioned for that first film he did because someone he’d slept with a handful of times knew a casting director and suggested he’d be good at it.

“He certainly had the dick for it” were her exact words, if you recalled. Strange to think in a way, you might owe that girl your career.

Through the pleasurable haze your mind dipped into having Eddie’s capable hands erasing every ounce of stress you carried in your muscles, you realized he was moving the scene right along while you just lay there humming and moaning with relief at his practiced touch.

He’d lowered his voice to that deep, rumbly register he always used when he was building towards the next phase. His DM voice, as he so affectionately dubbed it. Rough and gravely, yet even and tempered, guiding both you and the audience along on the journey of this fuck.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying…but your husband’s a jackass for missings out on this.”

Your heartbeat picked up in your chest as he moved to your thighs. His fingertips dug into your flesh, kneading it like dough, letting his thumbs swerve dangerously close to your center.

“You deserve someone who puts you first…who knows what he has and worships you…”

One of his thumbs swiped briefly over your puffy lips, and you knew he felt how wet you were.

“You know, I’d never let you out of my sight if you were mine…”

His words dripped slowly and intentionally past his lips, his hands creeping higher and higher up your legs. At last, they slid over the globes of your ass and he groaned as he squeezed one in each hand, spreading you apart to see your center, soaked with arousal that had been pooling there, truth be told, from the moment Eddie had told you how beautiful you looked. 

You heard Eddie’s next line in your head before he said it, “If you really want to relax, I can try a very special technique. I don’t do it for just anyone. It’s a little bit…unorthodox…”

And you were more than ready to take him up on his offer once he delivered the line. 

But Eddie went off script.

Instead of hearing words, you felt the wet heat of his tongue glide through your folds as he buried his face between your spread ass cheeks. Your head popped out of the headrest, letting out a breathy moan of surprise and delight.

The shock on your face was evident as Sammy pushed in close to capture your expression, but so was your pure and utter elation. You’d never felt anything so good in your life…

And it seemed you weren’t the only one.

Eddie groaned loudly as he lapped messily at your folds, his spit mixing with your slick that covered the bottom half of his face. And it was only after a few blissful seconds of eager licking that he even realize what he’d done.

“I’m—mmph—sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—” He panted out in between sinful swirls of his tongue, his he words muffled by your ass cheeks because he couldn’t stand to pull away even a little, even long enough to speak. “I had to taste you…”

”It’s okay,” you answered, voice already wrecked beyond belief. “It’s okay, just keep going—”

The command is directed at him as much as it is the crew, who only panicked slightly. Eddie never did stuff like this and they just weren’t ready.

They got back on track quickly enough, Sammy signaling the boom mic to get as close as he can without dipping into frame in order to pick up every lurid slurp and suck of Eddie’s mouth.

After no more than a few minutes, the fluffy towel under you was bunched in your fists and your hips squirmed as Eddie continued to eat you out like a mad man. His tight grip on your ass cheeks held fast, spreading you wider still so his tongue could probe deeper. The sounds he pulled out of you didn’t even sound human to your ears, let alone recognizable as your own voice. 

But you didn’t care.

However you sounded, however you looked, it was superfluous to what Eddie was doing and the precipice he brought you to. Your orgasm hit harder than any drug, than any physical blow. It had you shaking uncontrollably, reaching back to grip the hair at the crown of his head as your hips pushed back to meet every thrust of his tongue while you rode out your exceptional high.

You felt its tingling sensation spread to every inconsequential inch of your body, like an ocean of fire that crashed over you in wave after wave of scorching pleasure. Drowning you in it.

When you finally found the strength in your limp limbs to roll over onto your back, Eddie’s eyes were waiting to meet yours. You could see on his face how sorry he was, how worried he was he’d fucked up. And you tried to communicate with him in that mind-melding, wordless sort of way you and he always did that it was fine—that people were going to love it.

Cocking your brow at him, dipping into a more salacious tone to really sell the transformation from demure housewife to lusty adulterer, you threw in a little adlib of your own.

“That’s some technique you’ve got there,” you teased him, propping yourself up on your elbows. “My husband’s certainly never done that before.”

Eddie’s sly smile returned, his lips curling as he reached out to grip your waist. He hauled you closer with one jerk, bringing you to the edge of the table so your hips were flush with his. The bulge in his white pants was harder than ever when it pressed against your cunt, and he grinned wickedly when he felt just how ready you were for more. He yanked up the shirttail of his polo and whipped it off his body, tossing it behind him where it landed half in the pool.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he tutted softly, “you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Tysm for reading! 🛸 comments and reblogs keep your skin clear and your crops watered 🫶🏻

[luveline]

hi jade!!! i would love to see a poly!marauders fic where they help r fall asleep please! absolutely no pressure at all just a suggestion ofc <3

“Why so moody?” 

You rub at your eyes, standing just behind the sofa. You’d been frowning when James spotted you, not wanting to ask. “I can’t…”

“What?” Sirius asks. 

Remus perks up from beside him. 

Three sets of eyes makes it worse and somehow better. Sometimes it’s easier to only tell one of them when you have a problem, but sometimes you need all of them to know. “I can’t sleep again. Are you coming to bed soon?” 

And listen, four people in one bed is insane but occasionally you manage it. Most of the time you sleep with James, less often Remus. You and Sirius tend to be incompatible while you sleep, because he grabs you around the neck and face for hugging and you wake up with sweat pouring off of you, blind. 

Perhaps that’s why he offers first and emphatically. “I’ll come to bed with you, darling,” Sirius says, a picture of concern as he stands. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong, I’ve just tossed and turned for half an hour and I can’t take much more of it.” 

“She’s going insane,” Remus comments with a severe frown. 

Sirius helps him onto his feet. James, never one to be left out, turns off the television and gathers his throw blanket. “Not on my watch.” 

“Wait, I’m sorry. You don’t have to get up,” you say, wringing your hands behind your back. You hadn’t meant to summon them all to bed. You’d just wanted to know when you could expect an end to your agony. 

“Oh, well,” James begins, wrapping the throw blanket around your shoulders, “too late for that. Will you warm my side for me? I’ll lock up.” 

You feel shyer than you’d thought, shuffling back to the bedroom. Sirius’ hand finds your lower back as he enters the room from behind you, encouraging you gently to the side as he goes for the other. You’d left the sheets in disarray, the lamp on. James’ room is messy as always, but it’s your fault as you live from it most days. Remus is immediately put off by the overflowing dresser, closing each drawer with a shush over the runners. 

Sirius makes the bed, peeling back a corner for you. “Here, lovely. Climb in.” 

“I didn’t mean for you to wait on me,” you say shyly, embarrassed at their attention.

“There’s nothing I like doing more.” 

“He’s in a mood,” Remus says, though you’d guessed that already. “Enough room for me, too?” 

“‘Nough room for everyone,” you murmur, rounding Sirius to climb into bed as instructed. 

You and Remus end up in the middle of the bed, thankful for James’ sense of reality —everybody knew when you moved in together that the separate bedrooms wouldn’t last, but only James had the wherewithal to buy a very large bed. You’re immediately comforted by having one of them next to you, and Remus is very kind about it, asking in a murmur if he can cwtch you, wrapping his arm around your chest like you’re in danger of breaking from his touch. 

Sirius is less polite, but not less caring. If he thought you didn’t want him to touch you he certainly wouldn’t, but he knows he can hug you pretty much whenever he wants. He presses his nose to your face, Remus’ against your shoulder, the three of you deflating after a long day never quite this close to each other. You can feel a day’s worth of back ache leeching in your mattress. 

“Sorry,” you mumble. 

“Ooh, for what?” Sirius asks. 

“Making you come to bed.” 

“Didn’t make us do anything.” His breath warms your cheek as he talks. “It’s late. We would’ve been in bed soon.” 

It’s true enough. Everyone is in their pyjamas, Sirius smells like toothpaste. Still, you feel guilty for asking. And yet… you can finally relax now they’re here. It’s like they know exactly what’s been keeping you awake. Remus had cleaned and now holds your chest, Sirius reassures you and calms your stomach with his palm. 

James gets one good look at you all and rolls his eyes. “I asked you to do one thing for me. Jesus. Babe, could you move over?” he asks Remus, not giving him the time to comply before he’s in bed and smushing everyone even closer together. “This is fun. Sleepover!” 

“Just don’t start climbing on me again, Jamie,” Remus says. 

You close your eyes. “Don’t worry, they’ll chill out soon,” Sirius promises in a whisper. 

“Kiss?” you whisper back. 

Three different boys attempt to kiss you in the dimly lit bedroom. All the fuss doesn’t help you sleep, but knowing how much they care about you definitely does. 

[sweemmy]

“Remember, dear, the key to being an excellent broadcaster isn’t just having a pleasant voice, but knowing how to use it to capture and hold your audience’s attention. Speak to them as if you’re sharing an intimate secret, something only they should know. Make every word feel as though it’s meant solely for their ears.”

Alastor's voice flowed smoothly, weaving through the air like a hypnotic melody, and it took hold of you in a way that felt almost suffocating. His red eyes glimmered with a dark amusement, a twisted joy in watching your reaction. There had always been something unsettling about him, a danger lurking just beneath his charismatic exterior. But tonight, that danger felt closer, more present than ever before.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” His voice dropped lower, no longer just instructive but now filled with an edge of menace, as if testing how much you could handle. His gaze bore into you, evaluating, judging.

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words press into you, constricting your breath. “Yes, Professor. I understand,” you managed to say, though your voice came out more fragile than you intended.

Alastor’s smile deepened, predatory, as he closed the distance between you with slow, measured steps. Each one made your heart beat a little faster, the tension building as his shadow loomed larger. Though he stood only inches away, it felt as though his very presence consumed the room, suffocating any sense of control you thought you had.

“Good,” he purred, his voice a whisper laced with satisfaction. “Then let’s test that understanding, shall we?” He handed you a script, his fingers brushing against yours for a fleeting moment, leaving a trail of warmth that lingered far too long. “But this time, I want you to read it as though you’re speaking directly to me, as if every word is a whisper meant only for my ears.”

You took the script with trembling hands, the paper feeling heavier than it should, as if it carried the weight of the moment. Your eyes skimmed the words, but focusing was difficult with him so close. His proximity was overwhelming, the heat radiating off his body like an invisible force that seemed to pull you in. You could feel the breath of his words still clinging to your skin, each syllable echoing in your mind like a spell.

“Slower,” he murmured, leaning in just enough that his lips brushed the shell of your ear. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, making it hard to concentrate on the script in your hands. “Take your time. Control the rhythm of your words, just as you would control an audience. Let them hang on every syllable, every pause.”

You tried to follow his instructions, your voice faltering as you read. But it wasn’t just the words that were slipping from your grasp—it was your own control. You could feel his presence everywhere, an invisible hand guiding you, pushing you further into the depths of something you couldn’t fully understand.

Alastor’s hand slid down your arm, so light it was almost imperceptible, yet it sent a spark through you. His touch was both comforting and threatening, a duality that left you frozen in place. You knew you should resist, should step back, but instead, you found yourself leaning into him, letting his energy consume you.

“Better,” he said softly, though his tone was still thick with dominance. “But you’re holding back. I want more.” His fingers trailed down your spine, and every inch he touched ignited a fire under your skin. “You’re trying to control your voice, but you need to let go. Surrender yourself to the moment, to the power of your words.”

Your breath hitched as his hand came to rest on your waist, a subtle but unmistakable claim. He was testing you, not just your voice, but your will. And the worst part was that you could feel your own resolve crumbling, your body betraying you as it leaned further into his control.

“I... I don’t think I can,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out.

His laugh was low, almost sinister, as he tilted his head, his lips ghosting over your neck. “Oh, but you can, darling. You just don’t realize it yet.” His voice wrapped around you like a noose, tightening with every breath you took. “You’re not here to think. You’re here to feel, to experience the raw power of your own voice... and mine.”

Without warning, he plucked the script from your hands and tossed it aside, his actions deliberate and dismissive. “Enough of the formalities,” he said, his tone dropping to something far more intimate, more dangerous. “Now, I want you to speak from here.” His fingers brushed over your chest, just above your heart, and then moved downward, tracing a path that left your skin burning in their wake. “From your soul.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, the room growing hotter, more oppressive. His hand rested on your hip, pulling you gently but firmly toward him, and despite the alarm bells ringing in your head, you couldn’t resist. You didn’t want to. Alastor’s gaze was magnetic, a dark promise of pleasure and pain that made your knees weak.

“Control isn’t about restraint, my dear,” he whispered, his lips so close to your ear that his breath sent shivers down your spine. “It’s about knowing when to let go. To let someone else take the reins.”

Before you could react, his lips met yours, and the world seemed to stop. It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was consuming, filled with a hunger that felt centuries old, as though he was devouring a part of you. And you... you gave it willingly. His hands moved with expert precision, tracing the curve of your body, igniting a fire that burned hotter with every touch.

Your mind screamed that you should stop, that this was wrong, that he was playing you like a puppet on a string. But your body, traitorous as it was, responded to his every command, melting under his touch.

“Alastor...” you gasped between kisses, but he silenced you with a look, his eyes burning with that same dangerous glint you had seen earlier.

“Shhh,” he whispered, his voice dark and velvety. “Now is not the time for words. It’s the time for surrender.”

His hands slid under your shirt, the cool air meeting your heated skin as he pushed the fabric away. Every movement was deliberate, calculated, as though he was savoring the moment. His fingers danced across your skin, making you arch against him, seeking more of his touch.

“You see?” he purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “This is what true control feels like. You think you’re helpless, but in reality, you’re exactly where you’re meant to be. In my hands.”

You tried to speak, to regain some sense of control, but the words died in your throat as his lips found yours again. This kiss was different—slower, more intense, as if he was drawing out the pleasure, savoring every second of your surrender.

The world around you seemed to blur, your senses overwhelmed by him—his scent, his touch, the sound of his voice in your ear, promising both salvation and damnation.

And in that moment, as his hands moved with precision, as his words wrapped around you like chains, you realized the truth: you were his. Entirely, utterly his. And there was no turning back.

[spiderbeam]

🎧+carlos+24

🎧 — ¿con quién se queda el perro? (“who gets the dog?”) by jesse y joy

a/n: it’s 1:50 am as i’m posting this && it turned out much longer than i expected so…. prepare for angst and enjoy <3

The first thought that crosses your mind as you’re walking across your flat to open the door is that this feels weird. No matter how much you try to push it away, you can’t help it. It’s weird, hearing him knock on the door. You don’t understand why that’s the thing has thrown you off most during a week like this. It’s not the piles of boxes, or the bed that is only half-undone, the emptied drawers, the missing pictures, the packed-up racing simulator. It’s him knocking.

He has a key. He has one, because he hasn’t yet given it to you. Because you still can’t bring yourself to ask for it.

The door creaks open, and you’re met by Carlos’ tired brown eyes. His hair looks messy, his complexion paler than it should. He hasn’t been sleeping well.

To be fair, neither have you.

“Hi,” he says quietly, eyes searching your face. You can’t look much better than him.

“Hi,” you repeat, opening the door wider for him.

“How did you sleep?” he asks, shuffling besides you and into the apartment he used to call home.

“The bed isn’t that bad,” you say. Even though you aren’t here. The thought comes to you unbidden. It makes a sourness seep into your mouth.

You close the door behind you. He stands a respectful distance from you, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. And that distance… it’s too far away, but not enough altogether. Too close, too distant.

The two of you linger there, in a silence that seems to stretch between the two of you. There’s a ghost of laughter, of kisses and promises whispered against your lips. Of fingers toying with his hair and murmurs pressed against your navel.

You don’t remember the last time silence stretched like this between the two of you.

“I will be quick,” Carlos promises quietly.

“You don’t have to be,” you respond, and you can see his brown eyes soften. What’s done is done, you have to remind yourself. You made your choice. But there’s a tenderness for Carlos that you’ll never be able to shed. There’s a room in your heart for him—he made home of it years ago. It will take time for him to vacate it—longer than it will your apartment.

Carlos nods eventually, letting his gaze scour your flat. It feels hollow. A phantom. You had grown used to an empty apartment. With Carlos’ line of work, it was near impossible to have him with you for longer stretches of time. You thought you could bear it—seeing him once, twice a week, maybe less. You thought the breaks between races could make up for an empty bed. You thought you would learn to cope with it. That missing him would make being with him all the better. You thought you could learn.

But he loves being a driver too much. And when he told you about Ferrari not renewing his contract for next year, an ugly, venomous thing started festering in your heart. Maybe he won’t drive next season. It was a seed of hope tangled with a blooming selfishness. Because you weren’t sad, you weren’t angry, you weren’t sympathetic—you were relieved. Relieved at the possibility that your boyfriend could be at the end of his career.

And what an ugly, awful thing that is to think about the person you love. And while that rotting hope wasn’t the first sign, it was definitely the last one you needed.

Carlos loves driving. It comes at the cost of him being away more often than not.

You couldn’t keep living like this.

Carlos runs his hand down the line of his jaw. He does it when he’s anxious, frustrated. He doesn’t meet your gaze when he says: “A few reporters might reach out to you.” You don’t mention the fact that they already have. Your spam folder is not large enough. “I will—I will make sure someone from my team helps you out with that. But if you want someone else, I can arrange—“

“Thank you,” you say, a murmur, barely audible in itself. But the silence is heavy, and the way his lips press together tells you he heard you.

“I wanted—“

“Do you—“

And the silence snaps back into place near immediately, eyes staring at each other with something you can’t seem to place. Familiarity that borders on unfamiliar. You’ve known him for ten years, loved him for nine, dated him for eight. There are traces of Carlos carved into every edge of your life. He knows you better than you know yourself. And when the words can’t seem to dislodge from your throat, you know he can tell. You swallow, and instead nudge your head towards the door on your left. Carlos nods tightly, and leads first into what used to be your shared bedroom.

You follow behind him, almost hesitantly. He’s big—he blocks most of your view when you step back in. You almost wish he did entirely. But the moment he moves even slightly to the side, you want to shove him out of the room. You hadn’t realized just how exposed, how bare it would make you feel.

Your side of the bed is tidy, blankets straight without a wrinkle in sight. His side—

His side is messy, with blankets strewn together and his pillow halfway on the floor. You look away too quickly, but your heart stammers at the idea that the outline of you is still visible on the mattress.

He probably noticed it the second he stepped inside. You avert your gaze, looking up at the ceiling. But you can feel Carlos’ stare burning onto the side of your cheek.

You’re not sure what compelled you to sleep on his side of the bed. He rarely ever slept here at all—and when he did, the two of you would end up tangled together, meeting each other in the middle of the mattress. His pillow wouldn’t even smell like him.

Even then, it’s hard to imagine he won’t be here anymore. That you won’t be falling asleep knowing he’s coming back.

You clear your throat. It feels scratchy. “Um, I’ll be in the kitchen if you—“

“You don’t have to leave,” Carlos says, a little too quickly. He swallows sharply. “It’s your apartment. You shouldn’t be…” he trails off, his big brown eyes meeting yours. You nod in understanding.

You stand off to the side while Carlos rummages through the dresser. With his back turned towards you, you take the chance to steady yourself. Breathe in. Breathe out. You knew this would be hard. You knew. It doesn’t make it easier.

You remember the headlines from the day the news broke. Convertidos en extraños muy cordiales. It still makes your skin crawl.

Strangers. You’ve been a part of each other’s lives for a decade. You don’t remember what not knowing Carlos feels like.

He moves away from the dresser and towards his side of the bed. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him turning slightly towards you.

He thinks you don’t notice it. He thinks you’re looking away when he opens the drawer of his nightstand. He thinks you don’t notice the small, velvet box he pulls out and shoves into his pocket. It wouldn’t matter, anyway—you found it two nights ago.

He was going to ask you to marry him.

This time you do look away, cheek muscle trembling as you force yourself to bite down any tears.

It was a mutual decision. It’s what you told the press, what you told your friends, what you told yourself. It’s the truth.

It stings anyway.

The two of you are leave the bedroom eventually, one after the other. It’s the last time he’ll be in here like this. Your vision blurs. You’ll have to sell the bed. Get a smaller one. You blink the tears away.

Carlos runs a hand through his hair. He tugs too hard, and you nearly reach for his hand. The chide rests on your tongue—you need to be more gentle with yourself. You swallow the words, but they stick to the back of your throat.

Carlos sighs. “Princesa—” It slipped out. He didn’t mean to call you that—you can tell by the way his shoulders tense, how his whole body seems to lock into place. There’s a flicker of panic, of anguish in his expression. He clicks his tongue, tugs on his hair too roughly again, and swallows whatever it was he intended to say.

Instead, Carlos hands you something, and for a moment, you think it’s the ring.

It hurts. Your friends told you the pain would dull with time. You wouldn’t say yes, you realize, even if he pulled the ring now. You’ve spent more nights alone than beside him during the past year. You’ve fallen asleep alone in a cold, empty bed more often than not. You love him—you do. A part of you fears you always will. Saying no would hurt just as much.

The cold metal presses against your palm. It’s not an engagement ring.

It’s his key.

You look up at him. His throat bobs and his fingers twitch, like he wants to reach out to you.

He doesn’t.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, and your voice breaks at the end.

He nods his head, looking away. His eyes look glassy.

“Me too.”

eve’s 1k celebration 🎧

a/n: godd this song was such a throwback,,, i managed to sneak more than a few lyrics (many translated ones & one in spanish) in there so those that get it…. yknow. really really really recommend listening to the song even if you don’t speak spanish!!! spotify gives you the option to read the lyrics in english so u definitely should give it a listen <3

[achilles-rage]

Good Luck Charm: Chapter 18

college football player!buck x plus size!reader

summary: you finally finish your assignment and talk about the upcoming holiday break.

word count: 3.1k

previous chapter

series masterlist

a/n: believe me when i say i was not planning for this chapter to go the way it did. but it’s fine it was hot<3 i also kept the holiday reader celebrates ambiguous to keep it inclusive, so hopefully i can keep it going being nonspecific lol, enjoy<3

warnings: smut, plus size!reader, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

MDNI- 18+ only!

While Evan put up a fight at first about accepting your help, he quickly got over it. You kept trying to reassure him that you want to help, that you want him to heal as well as possible, even if you have to do things for him. He didn’t listen at first; he didn’t want to be a burden; he didn’t want you to be annoyed with him or feel like you had to help him. But still, you continued to care for him with a smile on your face, and soon enough, he started to love how much you were doting on him. It made him feel important, loved.

It’s almost exhausting when he’s finally used to you doing things for him, and you’d be a little upset if he wasn’t so cute with his little pouty lips and puppy dog eyes. 

“Princess, can you get me some more water?”

“Princess, can you get me a sweater?”

“Princes, can you…?”

You’re almost certain he’s exaggerating his injuries by now, as his concussion is gone and his ankle has been healing for a couple of weeks, but how can you say no when he asks you to stay with him for a little bit longer? You love being with him, and you love taking care of him, so it makes sense to spend most nights at his place rather than going back to your apartment.

You’re at his house again, both of you sitting on his bed as you work on the final touches of your assignment. You’re happy to finally be done with it, although you have this weird feeling in your chest that once your assignment is handed in, you won’t have any reason to see Evan. You know your worries are unnecessary; you’re dating, and he seems very content in keeping you around all the time, but you feel that minuscule voice in your head telling you what you know isn’t true. 

You look out his bedroom window, smiling as you see the soft blanket of snow covering his front yard, the sunset shining brightly off of it and making you excited for the quickly approaching winter break. It’s already December, and you can’t believe how quickly the semester has passed. A couple weeks off and finally able to spend some time with your family? You couldn’t imagine anything better. Especially for the holidays.

“What are you doing for winter break?” you ask as Evan types away on his computer. He looks up at you after a moment, his fingers stilling on his keyboard. His expression almost looks upset, but he quickly covers it with a small smile.

“I’m not sure yet. I’ll probably stay here; hang out with some of the guys on the team that aren’t going home either.” he tells you, his voice oddly monotone. You know he’s not especially close to his parents, but you didn’t know it was bad enough for him to not go home during winter break. He’s definitely holding his emotions back right now, and it makes your heart clench to think about him alone during the holidays, with no loving family to go home to.

“Your parents don’t want you to go home?” you ask, but you already know the answer. He shrugs, giving you a soft “I don’t think they care” as he looks down at his hands, fidgeting with his fingers. Sadness fills your eyes, and you let out a quiet exhale. How can his parents not want to see him?

“What about your sister? I’m sure she wants to see you.” you try to reassure him, but you can see that your words cause sadness to fill his eyes as he shakes his head. You reach over and grab one of his hands, which pulls his gaze from his lap to your face. 

“You can’t be alone for the holidays.” you whisper. You can feel the question on the tip of your tongue, and while you know it may be a little weird to ask, it feels like the words are fighting their way up your throat.

“I’ll be alright, princess. It’s not the first time, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.” he tells you with a shrug, trying to mask his sadness with a reassuring smile. You tilt your head to the side as you look at him, frowning. You feel the words slip from your mouth before you can stop him; why is he the one reassuring you right now? You should be the one telling him that he shouldn’t have to be used to that. That he deserves to feel loved all the time, but especially around the holidays.

“Why don’t you come home with me for the break?” His eyes widen at your words, and for a moment, so do yours. You know it’s probably too early for that kind of thing; he’d be meeting your entire family, for God’s sake, but you can’t imagine him sitting here alone while everyone else is with their families.

“You want me at your parents’ house for the holidays?” he asks in disbelief, although he can feel his heart pounding at the thought. He absolutely loves the idea of meeting your parents, and spending a few weeks in your hometown; learning even more about you.

“I’m sure they’d love to meet you. I know my mom does.” you tell him a bit sheepishly. You’ve told your mom about him already, although you’re not as close to her as you once were, you still talk to her fairly regularly.

“Your dad doesn’t?” he asks you curiously, using the hand holding yours to pull you towards him. You get up onto your knees and crawl across the bed, then straddle his lap and wrap your arms around his neck loosely.

“I haven’t told him. Not sure how he’d react.” you say with a shrug, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his. He hums softly, and although he’s a little nervous about your answer, he also feels an overwhelming urge to prove to your father that he’s good for you.

“Yeah? Tell me about him, so I know what to expect.” You lean back, looking at him with an unsure smile, disbelief in your eyes. 

“You’ll come?” you ask, your smile widening when he nods. You laugh softly and lean in to give him a chaste kiss, but he quickly deepens it, his hand moving to your jaw and tilting your head slightly. You smile into the kiss, and let him continue to kiss you for a moment, one of your hands making its way into his hair while his other hand moves up and down your thigh.

“So, tell me about your parents.” he speaks after he pulls away, looking up at you with a gleam in his eye. He loves the way you look sitting on his lap, lips puffy and eyes in a slight daze. He thinks it’s adorable that even after the countless times he’s kissed you, you still always pull back with wide eyes and a soft smile, almost like you’re surprised he’s kissing you.

“Well, my mom will love you, so you don’t have to worry about her much. I think she’ll just be happy I’ve finally brought someone home. My dad’s sort of protective, but I’m sure it’ll be fine. He’s a firefighter, and he’s an extrovert, so all you have to do is ask him about his job, and the heat will be off of you for hours.” you explain to him, laughing softly as you explain your dad’s tendency to talk about his job. He’s always wanted to be a firefighter, and he loves the job, so it’s become a joke between you and your mom about how quickly he can change the subject to work during conversations with anyone that will listen. 

Evan hums softly, nodding as he listens to you. He laughs along with you, feeling his nerves settle slightly as you tell him how to get on your dad’s good side. He can’t believe he’s agreed to this so quickly; a few months ago, he would never have pictured himself being introduced to a girl’s parents. But now, with you, he feels both excited and like his heart is about to stop from his nerves.

“You think he’ll like me?” he asks a bit nervously. You smile, shrugging as you think about it. You’ve never introduced a guy to your father, so you’re really not sure how he’ll react. While you want to reassure Evan, you don’t want to give him a false sense of hope. 

“I like you. I think he’ll see that. He might just have to warm up to you.” you tell him after a moment of silence. He nods again at your words, licking his lips as he averts his gaze from yours, beginning to think about it maybe a little too much. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. He’ll probably just want to make sure you’re a good guy. It’s not like he’ll find out you’re, like, a murderer or something.” you tease in a low voice, giving him a cheeky smile. You want to calm his nerves; you can see the wheels turning in his head. He chuckles as his eyes refocus on you, and he pulls you in by the back of your neck, lips level with your ear.

“Maybe not, but I definitely wouldn’t want him to find out what I’ve done with you, how I think of you most of the time.” he rasps, and you feel your cheeks grow hot. 

“Yeah? What are you thinking about right now?” you get out, your voice just above a whisper. Although your words are teasing, your stomach is filled with butterflies. Even after months of being with him, there’s always a split second that you forget you’re not still the shy, inexperienced person you were before.

“I’m thinking about taking you in your childhood bedroom. Your parents in the other room. Having to put my hand over your mouth to keep your quiet.” he says, nipping at your neck between sentences. You bite your lip, feeling a familiar warmth in the pit of your stomach.

“You’re crazy if you think my dad’s gonna let us share a room.” you tease softly, tilting your head back as he continues to kiss your neck. He chuckles against your skin, which causes you to shiver as his hot breath hits your neck.

“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.” he whispers in your ear, then continues his trail of kisses down your neck. You roll your eyes, giggling softly, but it’s cut short when you feel Evan’s hand dip below the waistband of both your leggings and your panties, and move straight to your core.

“You’re so wet already. You like that idea? Having to keep quiet for me?” he says in a cocky tone, looking up at you. You bite your lip as your hips buck against his hand instinctively, trying to gain more friction as his fingers ghost against your clit.

He chuckles as he feels your hips move, but doesn’t tease any further. He pushes a finger into your dripping cunt, pumps it into you a few times, then adds another. You mewl softly, leaning down to capture his lips in a kiss, which he happily returns. His thumb finds your clit after a moment, and he groans as he feels you clench around his fingers with a soft moan.

“You’re so good for me, princess. Always so good for me.” he says against your lips, then curls his fingers to hit that spot inside of you that makes you see stars. You tilt your head back with a whine, rolling your hips as you feel the familiar feeling growing in your belly.

He increases his movements when he sees your face contorting in pleasure, knowing you’re approaching your high, but you stop him before you can get there. You pull his hand away with quick, albeit reluctant, movements.

“Need to feel you.” you whisper in an almost pleading tone, and that’s all it takes.

He grabs your hips and flips you over onto the bed, then moves to kneel in front of you. He reaches for your leggings and makes quick work of pulling them and your panties down your legs, you lifting your hips off the bed to help him out. He makes you sit up once your bottoms are discarded, and pulls your knit sweater over your head, not even bothering to take your bra off before his hands are pulling on his shirt. Once he’s taken his clothes off, he’s on top of you, using one arm to hold himself up, and the other pumping his cock a few times before moving the tip over your slick folds.

“Please.” you beg as you look up at his face, pupils blown and lips turned in an almost-pout. He licks his lips as his eyes move up from your cunt to your eyes, smirking. He doesn’t waste any more time, and he sinks into you with a breathy groan. His head falls to the crook of your neck as he buries himself to the hilt, feeling you stretching around him so perfectly. 

“Oh my god.” you whine as your hands find his shoulders. Your nails dig into his skin as he starts to move, and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to his size. He fits so nicely inside of you, but you’d be lying if you said there’s not a second when he first pushes into your dripping cunt where you think that you’re too full, that you won’t get used to the feeling of all of him.

“That’s it, princess. Let me hear you.” he drawls. He picks up the pace as he begins to kiss down your neck, making sure he leaves light spots around your collar bones and tits. He loves marking you, but the last time he marked your neck, you got mad that you weren’t able to cover it up easily, so now he leaves them in places for his eyes only. 

You let out a shuttered cry when his fingers find your clit again, and your nails dig into his back more harshly, which makes him groan in a mix of pain and pleasure. He loves to be marked by you too, loves having reminders of you on his skin. He leans back to look into your eyes again, and he almost smirks when he sees you struggling to keep your eyes open, your body moving with each thrust. He looks down at your soft tummy and chest and he moans again. He loves seeing your tummy move as he fucks you; almost as much as he likes to fill your belly with his seed.

“Keep making noises like that and I won’t last long, baby.” he teases, then meets your lips in a deep kiss. His hips move in rough thrusts as his fingers circle your clit, and you know that you’re not going to last long either.

“Feels so good.” you rasp against his lips, and he smirks as he pulls back.

“Yeah? You like that, princess?” he asks in a cocky tone, feeling his high quickly approaching as he looks down at your fucked out expression. All you can do is nod as you feel the pit in your tummy growing, your words coming out in incoherent babbling.

With a few more thrusts, Evan is right on the edge, but as he’s about to pull out, you wrap your legs around his waist. He raises a brow as you look up at him, soft pleas escaping your lips.

“Come inside me. Evan, please.” you get out, keeping your legs firmly locked around him. He groans, trying not to cum right then and there. The way you say his name makes his head spin, and soon enough, he’s nodding, his hips snapping against yours with increased fervor.

“You want me to fill you up? Huh, princess?” he asks, leaning in to whisper in your ear. His thrusts are getting sloppy, and you know he’s almost there.

“Please. Fill me up.” you plead, your back arching off the bed as you feel yourself teetering on the edge.

“Come for me, baby. Let me feel you.” he grunts in your ear, and after a few more thrusts, you feel his hot cum hitting your insides. This, paired with his fingers ghosting over your clit causes you to fall over to the edge with a high pitched squeal, clenching around him as your vision goes blank. You squeeze your eyes shut as your body goes stiff, your hands still firmly on his shoulders.

“There you go, princess. God, you’re gorgeous.” he whispers against your skin. He slows his hips to a stop, staying inside of you for a minute or two as you both catch your breath. He moves his head down to the valley of your breasts, pressing soft kisses all over the skin not covered by your bra as he stays lying on top of you, and you hum happily.

After a few minutes, he finally pulls out, groaning at the sight of his cum dripping down your soft skin and onto his sheets. He grabs a towel from his closet and cleans you off carefully, pressing kisses on your plush belly as his hands moves, and once he’s done, he crawls back into bed beside you and pulls you in to lay your head on his chest.

“We can’t do this at my parents’ house.” you tease as you lay your cheek against his chest, and you smile when you feel the rumble of his laugh ripple through his chest under you.

“No? Don’t think you can keep quiet?” he replies in a similar tone, squeezing your shoulder as he holds you tightly against him. 

“I’m more worried about you.” you tell him in a serious tone. He can hear the smile in your voice, but he still rolls his eyes as he scoffs.

“Yeah, we’ll see.” he says in a quiet tone, voice trailing off as he looks up at the ceiling. 

If you’re really serious about not doing anything for two weeks, he thinks he’ll go crazy. He’s been able to have you pretty much anytime he wants for the past few months, and imagining you at your house, forbidden fruit dangling in front of him with your father around, he knows it’s going to be torture for him.

likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

click here for my masterlist!

click here to be added to my taglist!

click here to read my request rules!

taglist: @sherlocksbaby2323 @essienoe @p14th0mps0n @celestixldarling @minsugafour @brooke0297 @zelfanswhenshecan @sarahsmi13s @avengersgirllorianna @bingbongsupremacy @nishinoyahhh @alyssanicole01 @outof-spite @supernatural-bangtanboys @sporadicmakerwerewolf @x0xchristine @pear-1206 @swanshells @tpwkstiles @lulubelle14 @cannibalhellhound @odetolocksmiths @charlie-winchester94 @hollandxxmix @evysian @buckandeddiesverison @love-kha1 @starbyun92939798 @maxinish @theking-mustdie @daeswash @911varietyposts @superlock-in-the-tardis @lilsquatch7898 @hufflepuff-spidey @starboygf @wnbweasley @damndirtylitch @eva-tts5 @alexxavicry @tatyhend @sammiejane22 @mbioooo0000 @prettybi-girly @boybandbaby @toessssw @tryingtograspctrl @azkza @rosey1981 @cryedye (if you interacted with my taglist post and are not on this list, make sure your blog is visible in seatched, otherwise i can’t tag you! + more in comments)

[marvelsmylife]

An unconventional love story

Pairing: Rhysand x Vanserra!Reader

Plot: when you fall pregnant with your husband's child. Rhysand, along with his brothers and your brothers must put their differences aside to help save your life

Masterlist

Request

You and Rhysand didn’t have a storybook love story. You were arranged to get married because your father wanted more power and all but sold you to Rhysand. You could tell this was just a business transaction for Rhysand so you didn’t bother trying to get to know him at first. Fortunately for you, the courtship lasted three years before your actual wedding. The courtship was painfully awkward at the beginning. 

While you and Rhys didn’t speak unless you were forced to, you ended up forming a close friendship with Mor. Yes, it was awkward at first, seeing as she had a bad relationship with your oldest brother. You reassured her you weren’t like him and slowly gained her trust. She, in turn, would encourage Rhysand to talk to you more and get to know you better.

Rhysand would take what his cousin said to heart and would try to get to know you better. Of course, you were walking on eggshells and overall awkward when you were in the same room together. He knew you initially didn’t want to marry him but was willing to do it for the sake of your father and your court. 

He asked you repeatedly if you were sure about getting married because he didn’t want to force you if you genuinely didn’t want to go through with the marriage. “Yes,” I would almost shout in response, “it’s just that this is all new to me. I’ve never even had my first kiss yet because of how controlling my father is. I feel like won’t be enough for you.”

Rhysand sighed at your explanation and ended up pulling you into an embrace, “You are enough for me. If I’m being honest, I was the one to suggest this marriage to your father and hid it as a business transaction because I got wind he was planning on marrying you off to one of Keir’s men.” 

Rhysand shuttered as he recalled that night vividly. Rhysand was walking through the halls of Hewn City when he overheard Keir and your father's voice. “Don’t worry, her maidenhood is still intact. She hasn’t even had her first kiss yet” your father said and Rhysand found himself clenching his fist. He couldn’t believe your father was willing to marry you off to someone as sleazy as one of Keir’s men. That’s when he walked in and offered to marry you in exchange for an alliance between your courts. Your father was all too eager to accept Rhysand’s offer.

Letting out a sigh I replied, “Honestly I’m not surprised. Although, I’m a little happier knowing I’m marrying you and not one of Keir’s men,” I scrunched up my nose, “you’re way more attractive than any of them.”

A smirk appeared on Rhysand’s face at your words, “You think I’m attractive?”

“We’ll yeah, have you seen yourself in the mirror?” you answered honestly “I’d much rather marry you than marry any of Keir’s men.”

Rhysand laughed softly at your comment and brushed a piece of hair away from your face, “You are something else y/n. I can’t wait to marry you.”

You felt your face growing hot at Rhysand’s words. “Can I ask for a favor?” You asked after a few minutes of silence. Rhysand nodded and you continued, “Could you kiss me? I don’t want to have my first kiss to happen in front of everyone at our wedding.”

Rhysand’s eyes softened at your request but complied. He cupped your face before leaning in and kissed you. It was short and sweet but you found yourself smiling by the end. “There. Now your first kiss won’t be in front of hundreds of fae” Rhysand smiled down at you.

“Thank you,” you smiled up at Rhysand, “and I promise I’ll be a perfect wife for you.”

“I don’t want you to be perfect,” Rhysand replied, “I just want you to be happy in our marriage. My parents didn’t have a happy marriage and although I’m technically marrying you without you having a say. I do want you to be happy in our marriage.”

You gave Rhysand a genuine smile that caused his heart to skip a beat. “I can already tell I’m going to be happy in our marriage,” you held onto each other for a few more minutes before finally pulling away and saying your goodbyes. Not realizing the next time you would see each would be at your wedding.

Your first time with Rhysand was surprisingly great for both of you. It was no secret that Rhysand wasn’t a virgin when you started courting, but you were. Your father wanted you to be pure for your future spouse so he would execute any males who would dare show interest in you. Your father was proud of himself as he announced it in front of everyone at the wedding reception.

While you wanted to crawl into a hole and die at your father’s words, so Rhysand reached over and held your hand to comfort you. “It’s going to be ok” Rhysand whispered to you to try and calm you down.

After the reception, you and Rhysand made your way to the private residence your father bought for this specific moment. You were in the bathroom getting ready to consummate your marriage. Once you were ready, you stepped out of the bathroom and spotted Rhys lying down on the extravagantly large bed. There was no doubt it was designed specifically to accommodate his large wings.

Your breath hitched as you noticed Rhysand checking you out. You felt the urge to cover yourself at his stare but opted not to because you knew he was now allowed to stare at you in that manner. “Um,” I paused “as you know, I haven’t been with anyone so I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” you whispered as you played with your fingers.

Rhysand’s eyes softened at your words and got up from the bed, before walking over to where you were standing. “It’s ok, little red. I’ll guide you through this,” Rhysand ran his finger against your cheek before settling it on your waist.

You start breathing heavily as Rhysand pulls the straps of your white, lace nightgown; making it drop on the floor. Your long red hair cascaded over your breasts, “Wow” Rhysand whispered as he saw your bare chest. Feeling self-conscious, you tried to cover your, but Rhysand stopped you. “Never hide yourself from me,” Rhysand whispered as he removed your hands before pushing your hair back so he could see your breasts “They’re beautiful.”

A low groan escaped from Rhysand’s lips as he ran his thumbs over your hardened nipples. Your heart started racing as Rhysand took one of your nipples into his mouth and began to suck on it. “Do you like that?” Rhysand asked as he held onto you possessively.

“Yes” I whimpered softly as you ran your hands through Rhysand’s raven-black hair, “I really like it.”

Rhysand groaned at your actions and decided to lift you by your thighs and carry you to the bed. His eyes were glued to you as he laid you down on the bed. “I’m going to make this a night you’ll never forget.”

You smiled as Rhysand took his time and worshipped your body. He spent a solid thirty minutes between your legs, getting you ready for his cock. He made sure he talked to you the entire time to make you feel comfortable. Once he knew you were prepared, Rhysand lined his cock against your entrance “Relax, ok?” You gave a small nod before he carefully slid into you slowly. “Fuck. You’re so deliciously tight,” Rhysand groaned as he tried to control himself so he didn’t slam in all at once. 

“It still hurts,” You shut your eyes as tight as you could as Rhysand’s cock stretched you out.

Rhysand heart hurt at your cry, “I know sweetie, but it’ll pass and you’ll feel good. Just like before with my tongue. You just have to relax your body.”

You tried what Rhysand said and relaxed while he continued to insert his cock fully inside you. Once he was, he remained still for several seconds as he allowed you to adjust to his size. He didn’t want to hurt you and only wanted to continue when you gave him the ok. After a few minutes, you were able to fully relax and whisper into his ear, “You can start moving.”

Rhysand looked you in your eyes to make sure you were ok before he slowly started to move inside you carefully. He could tell you were still uncomfortable so he started kissing your neck in an attempt to distract you. It worked because slowly your whimpers of discomfort turned into moans of pleasure. “You feel amazing y/n.”

“Rhys” you panted as you began to dig your nails into his back. Hearing his name slip out of your lips only encouraged Rhysand to pick up his pace while his hands roamed your body. “It feels so good,” you shut your eyes as you let yourself get consumed with pleasure.

Soft cries of pleasure and groans filled the room as you and Rhysand made love that night. By the end Rhysand had you lying on top of him while he whispered sweet nothings into your ears. “Thank you for being gentle with me. I’ve heard horror stories from some of my maids about how horrible some males get when they’re being intimate with a female.”

Rhysand’s eyes softened at your words and held you close. “I will never hurt you. You are my wife, my equal and I will show you nothing but respect during our marriage,” with that Rhysand placed a kiss on your forehead before both of you drifted off to sleep.

From that night forward yours and Rhysand’s relationship changed for the better. You were no longer awkward around each other. You often sought each other out and constantly had to be touching. He also had to explain to you that you had to put on a mean persona whenever you had to visit the Hewn City. He explained he created a mean persona so the people in Hewn City would fear him.

Fortunately for him, you mastered the mean persona while living with your father in the autumn court. You had to toughen up at a young age because most of your brothers would bully you for being the only female among them. The only brothers you genuinely got along with were Eris and Lucien. Eris because he didn’t see you as a threat and Lucien because you were his baby sister and felt more of an urge to protect than bully. 

You loved Lucien so much for being so kind to you growing up, that he was the first to find out you were pregnant.

It was a warm summer evening when he came over for his weekly visit. He immediately knew something was different about you but he couldn’t put his finger on it. It wasn’t until he was up close when could see your glowing face that he realized you were pregnant. “I’m so excited for you, baby sister. I know you will be an amazing mother,” Lucien exclaimed as Rhysand entered the room. Lucien then proceeds to hug Rhys and tell him he’s happy for him as well.

Unfortunately, the joyous news was short-lived when Madja informed Rhysand in private that the baby had wings. Rhysand silently cursed himself because he had a feeling that was going to happen. He had tried for months to try to convince you not to have kids. He disguised it as he saw them as a burden, but in reality, he wanted nothing more than to have a mini version of the two of you. You ultimately got your way and managed to convince Rhysand that you guys needed an heir for the nigh court.

Ever since that revelation, Rhysand would silently panic about how he was going to tell you that your baby would most likely kill you. He would think back to the old version him, the one who wouldn’t have cared for your well-being. He often wished he could punch that old version of him and tell him that you were the best thing to ever happen to him. Seeing as he’s come to love and cherish you, he couldn’t bring himself to think of a world where you’re not in it.

As weeks passed and was running out of options on how to save both your life, Rhysand finally goes to Eris and Lucien for help. They were both rightfully mad that Rhysand hid this from not only them but also you. “How could you keep this from our sister? Our sister might die because of you.” Eris scolded your husband as Azriel, Cassian, and Lucien winced.

“You don’t think I know that!” Rhysand barked back as he ran his hands over his face, “I tried, I tried hard to convince her not to have a child but she was very persistent.” Rhysand found himself breaking down as the realization that you might die hit him, “I-we can’t let that happen. That’s why I called you guys. I need your help finding a way to save my wife’s life.”

Both Eris and Lucien’s anger disappeared once they heard Rhysand’s pleas. “I’ll ask around the other courts. Hopefully one of them knows something that can help us,” Eris gave Rhysand a weak smile.

“I’ll ask around the mortal lands. See if they somehow know something,” Lucien added. He walked up to his brother-in-law and patted his shoulder, “We’re going to figure this out and save my sister, ok?” Rhysand nodded as all five males in the room began working together to save your life.

Months quickly passed by with little to no progress on how to help you. Time ran out one morning when your water finally broke while you were gardening outside. “Rhys ! ! !” you shouted at you clenched your stomach, “it’s time, the baby is coming.”

Rhysand appeared by your side in a matter of seconds and guided you to your bed before calling out to Madja. “It’s going to be ok, my darling y/n,” Rhysand kissed the top of your head as he helped you out of your clothes and into your nightgown.

Meanwhile, in the day court, Eris was thanking Helion for managing to find a tonic that would help you deliver the babe without harming both of you. “Thank you for your help. The autumn court is in your debt.” Eris informed Helion.

“Don’t worry about it. Y/n has become a good friend ever since she and Rhys got married,” Helion smiled before Eris left for the night court.

Fortunately for everyone, you were still in the early stages of your delivery when Eris arrived and rushed to your side. “Drink this,” Eris uncapped the tonic and gave it to you. You gave him a funny look before he angrily said. “Drink this.”

“Ok, you don’t have to be rude,” you took the tonic before handing the empty bottle back to Eris. “Why did you-oh” Your face morphed for a few seconds as you felt something change within your body.

Rhysand, Eris, Lucien, Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and Amren all watched carefully. Rhysand bent down and got ahold of your hand, “my love, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly, “I felt as if my body changed” You looked over at Madja and began to panic, “did something bad happen to my baby?”

Madja rushed over and examined you, “Mother above, I didn’t think this would be possible,” Madja whispered before looking up at you, “yes, it looks like the baby is ok. It’s just that your anatomy changed so you’ll be able to deliver the baby properly.” Madja looked over at Eris “I don’t know what you gave her, but you just saved her’s and the babe's life.”

Eris had a small smile on his face at Madja’s words as he watched from the side as you gave birth to your child. 

You smiled down at your baby boy, who happened to have his father’s skin complexion and violet eyes with your fiery red hair and your nose. “He’s perfect” you gushed as you held your son in your hands. You looked up and noticed everyone staring at you and the baby, “do you want to hold your son, Rhysand?”

Rhysand was more than happy to hold his son while Lucien bent down next to you and kept repeating how happy and proud he was of you. “You did good y/n. That is the most precious babe I’ve ever seen. He’s going to be so loved by us and the two courts his parents are from.”

“Thank you, Lucien. You and Eris,” you look over at Eris who was also knelt down beside you, “are the best brothers anyone can ask for.” 

Lucien gently kissed your hand before him and Eris backed up and Rhysand take their place. “Look at him. He’s going to be a heartbreaker when he grows up,” Rhysand bent down so he was close to you while holding our child.

“He better not. He’s going to respect females from a very young age,” you laughed as you placed your hand on top of Rhysand’s.

In that instant, both you and Rhysand felt the mating bond snap between the two of you. “Would you look at that?” Rhysand chuckled “It only took you giving birth to our son for the mating bond to snap into place for us.”

You let out a soft laugh as Rhysand handed you back the baby so you could nurse him. “I love you, Rhys.”

“I love you too, my darling y/n” Rhysand placed a kiss on your forehead and held your hand. Content that not only did he still have you in his life, but that your baby boy was here as well and he was healthy.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Guiding Hand 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, parental neglect, depression, inference of self harm, violence, abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your online academics are affected by your personal struggles but your professor won’t let you give up so easy.

Characters: Raymond Smith, Lee Bodecker in the background

Note: I am tireddddd.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Professor Smith dresses you in a set of pajamas; white with blue stripes. They’re not your size, you assume they might be his. You’re not sure. You’re too woozy to think about much more than your throbbing hand. 

He lays you in the hotel bed as you shake uncontrollably. You’re freezing cold but he keeps touching your forehead and saying you’re burning up. How can that be when you can’t get warm? 

Your lashes flutter between glimpses of him pacing and sitting on the edge of the bed. When all is dark, you see his shadow beside you. His breathing suggests he’s asleep but you can’t tell. He’s up again as a halo of light shines around you. The lamp limns his figure as he pets your cheek. 

“Sweetheart, shh, you’re alright,” he coos, “no need to cry.” 

You’re crying? Why? You can’t remember. Your mind is a bubble of fractured thoughts and vague scenes. You can’t make scene of much between the visions of this man. 

“Fever’s broke,” he lays a wet cloth over your brow. “Very good. We’ll be off in the morning, won’t we?” 

“Mom?” You murmur in confusion. 

“Mm, let’s take one step at a time before all that, yes?” He caresses your cheek with his thumb. “Back to sleep.” 

He shuts off the light and you’re cast into grim blackness. His weight jostles the bed and you feel him spread out next to you. The bed is more than large enough for you both. 

“Professor,” you croak weakly. “What’s...” 

“In the morning,” he girds. 

You accept it, “sorry.” 

“Never be sorry,” he reaches over to squeeze your arm lightly.  

You lay in silence. Your eyes close on their own. You are completely drained. You sink down into a solid void that suffocates away all light and life. When you awake again, you’re alone. You might think it was all a dream if it wasn’t for the bright hotel walls. 

You remain as you are. You don’t have the energy to get up. You lift your hand and look at the bandage wrapped around it. It feels better and your fingers aren’t swollen. You bend them. It still hurts. 

The door opens and you drop your arm. You squeak at the pain. 

“Sweetheart, is all well?” Raymond rushes over, a tray in his hand. “I was only meaning to fetch some of the complimentary breakfast before we depart.” 

You blink and shake your head, “fine. I’m... fine.” 

“I hope you like coffee--” 

“Coffee?” You whimper and close your eyes. “Coffee...” you mutter. “I went to get coffee and...” 

“Yes, that fiend meant to attack you. You see, I did not come without purpose. How could I sit back and see you neglected?” 

“You don’t... I don’t know... you.” 

“Hush, hush, you must be hungry,” he insists. “It is good to eat. You are weak from the infection still. You must take care--” 

“My mom--” you look at him. 

He sucks in air and his jaw tenses. He steels himself and his fingers twitch. “Yes, a woman who allows her own daughter be abused.” 

“She... she couldn’t stop him--” 

“She should not bring the beast home with her,” he snips. “Please, you would not survive in such an environment.” 

“Why... would you come here?” 

He exhales and his eye bats, as if he can’t control it. “Why wouldn’t I after what I witnessed? Then you would not answer. I had half a suspicion you were dead.” 

“I’m sorry, I... didn’t mean to worry you but... it’s not your problem.” 

He hums and set the tray on the night stand. He offers a cup of coffee, “are you so used to being forgotten that you cannot accept kindness?” 

“No, it isn’t... I’m sorry.” 

“And the apologies. No need for it. I am not admonishing you. I am merely offering advice.” He takes your good hand and makes you take the cup. “There is much more you need to learn than accounting, I gather.” 

You frown and look at the dark coffee. 

“If you prefer milk or sugar, I grabbed some of each,” he explains and gestures to the tray. “Of course, you shouldn’t drink that in bed else you might stain the sheets.” 

“Oh, yeah,” you push the blankets back and move carefully. 

The pajamas brush against your stomach and you look down. You’re reminded of the day before. Naked in the tub. In front of him. You’ve never been so exposed before. You slump your shoulders and go to the table and sit. 

You look down at your burnt hand and bring up to examine the bandage again, “thank you...” you raise it higher. 

“Certainly. And who wouldn’t see to the festering infection? Are you not concerned that not even your own mother cared for that matter?” 

“Can we not talk about her?” You sniffle and rest your hand in your lap. “You should take me home.” 

“Home? That is no home. Now, you should eat. Keep your strength up so you can heal properly.” He girds. 

You nod and take a cautious sip of coffee. You’re still reeling, maybe even slightly delirious. You set the cup down again and lift your chin. You look at his neck, not his face. 

“Why?” You ask. 

“Why...” He echoes as he sits across from you. 

“Why help me?” 

He takes a packet of sanitizing wipes and uses them to clean the cutlery. You watch his diligent work. Everything he does is precise and purposeful. And cleanly. He seems to detest the thought of dirtiness and yet you can only feel like filth next to him. 

“Well, it should be a question, should it? It is humane. Decent. So, I shouldn’t need to name the reason for it.” He lays down each piece before he sets to claiming a muffin, then a scoop of the scrambled eggs, and strips of bacon with sausage too. “Though if you insist, I will give one. Firstly, let us underline that point. What you need, what you want, I would be more than willing to supply, but then, circle around to your query; why should I help you?” 

He takes the rest of the cutlery and wipes it then hands it to you. He makes you up a plate as he continues, “you, sweetheart, have great potential. I’ve seen it. And that would be spoiled all for a poor foundation. Now that is not your own doing, mind you, you cannot help where you come from, and more admirably,” he sets the plate before you, “you were fighting against it and so I only thought to lower the ladder for you.” 

You blink and focus on the food. You’re not very hungry. You feel slightly queasy but you would hate to be ungrateful. All these questions already make you feel so.  

“Thank you,” you croak and make yourself look at him. “Really...” 

You don’t know how to say it. You already feel pathetic and you don’t need to sink further. No one’s ever been that concerned about you. No one ever tried to help you. Most people just laughed, called you names, or pushed you down themselves. 

“Please, don’t trouble yourself very much, eh? I have the means to help. It would be selfish not to. A sort of passing the torch. I wasn’t born to wealth myself, or peace. Life can be a war on its own,” he gives a gentle smile beneath his thick beard. “Oh, and I did take some clothing from your home before our flight. I was able to use the hotel laundry. It should suffice, though I hardly trust their cleaning staff.” 

“Yes, sir,” you answer. 

“Raymond, please,” he corrects you. 

📓

Professor Smith, or Raymond as he insists, drives you across the city. He turns in the car at the rental place then leads you into the train station a block away. He’s patient, not hurrying you, and he pays for your ticket and his. You feel guilty for the expense. 

As you sit and wait on the platform, you fidget. You chew your lip and curl your fingers, the burn stinging beneath the bandages. 

“Are you well?” He checks in. He does every now and then. 

“Um, yes...” you look at the tracks, “I’ve never been on a train.” 

“A first, very exciting,” he muses. 

You nod and let your eyes wander. You’re nervous but too much to ask what makes you so. He moves so his leg is against yours. 

“Your hand?” He prompts. 

“It’s feeling better,” you assure.” 

“Very well.” He sits back and puffs out through his nose, “we will go to my home. You can recover there and when you feel up to it, we will go over your last assignment and see you through the course--” 

“Professor-- Raymond,” you sputter as you face him. “You don’t have to do all this.” 

“I am not a man who does things he doesn’t wish to,” he replies. “I’ve explained myself enough. It is unacceptable to me to let you return to where I found you. I couldn’t allow you in such an unsafe circumstance. Especially after what I witnessed.” 

“It-- he just yelled, that’s all.” You murmur. 

“Is that all? He had nothing to do with this?” He points to your hand. 

You shrink and shake your head. He clucks. 

“You are honest and so you are a poor liar. What I saw was more than yelling, sweetheart. You will not convince me otherwise. I know, this is a peculiar situation, but it is your way out,” he says, “tell me, you never thought of it.” 

Your lack of response is enough of one. Your eyes are hot, and your mouth is dry. Your leg jiggles restlessly. 

A lull rises as the chatter of others rolls through the platform. Soon, you hear the whine of metal on metal, and a bright beam shines from the tunnel. The train speeds through and grinds to a stop.  

You follow Raymond’s every move. When he stands, you stand. As he grabs his bag, you go to do the same but he has it in hand first. He gestures you ahead of him. You reluctantly approach the train. 

“The second from the front,” he instructs from behind. “I’ve our tickets.” 

You follow his direction. You’re good at that. As a professor, he’s just as good at giving orders. As you approach the waiting attendant, he reaches around to hand over the tickets. The woman in her uniform tears of the ends and hands them back. 

You step onto the small metal footstool and then climb the stairs of the train car. You pause as he puts your bags into the netted caddy near the front. He urges you on with another point and recites the seat numbers. You find them and stare at the row. 

“Would you like window or aisle?” He tucks away the tickets. 

“Mm, what do you like?” You ask. 

“Please, have the window. You did say it’s your first,” he insists. 

You duck your head and sit. He lowers himself next to you and slips a bottle from inside his jacket. He pops the cap open and offers it quietly. You glance over at the sanitizer. You don’t want to be rude so you put your unbandaged hand out. He dollops it into your palm, then his own, and puts it away. 

He rubs his palms together and you sanitize around your bandage and your uninjured hand. You sit back and look out at the platform. He’s a very stringent man but you might only think so because you’re used to no rules at all. He’s thorough too. He seems to think of everything.  

You look at him but think better of asking what you want to. He catches your glance before you can turn back. He shifts toward you, leaning on the outer armrest. 

“Go on,” he urges, “you can say whatever you need.” 

“Sorry, it’s nothing.” 

“Please,” he opens his hand encouragingly. 

You drop your eyes and wet your lips. You’re going to sound so dumb. “Do you really think I could... I could do something? Like you? Like... like... accounting?” 

He chuckles softly. It’s not mocking or mean. It’s soothing. 

“I do believe so,” he says. “You needn’t fret. Let yourself time to heal, then all that will come after.” 

You sniff and sit back. You don’t know if you agree with him, but you’ll try. That’s all you can do. It’s what you should do after he’s gone to all this effort. 

[austinswife]

ALWAYS YOUR SECOND CHOICE - ‘Buck’ Cleven

PART 01 || 02

SYNOPSIS — After walking away from Gale “Buck” Cleven, leaving behind the love you thought you had, Buck is sent on another mission during the war. Though you thought your relationship was over, a letter from Buck arrives before his departure, forcing you to confront the unresolved emotions and the difficult choices you’ve made.

WARNING(S) — Themes of heartbreak, regret, and unresolved tension, emotional turmoil, reflection, potential reconciliation or heartbreak.

𝜗𝜚 ALL FEEDBACKS, IDEAS SUGGESTION — TO AUSTINSWIFE

The days had dragged by since you walked away from Buck, the man you thought you would spend your life with. You had never imagined your relationship would come to this—a painful, confusing ending that left you questioning whether it had ever been real at all. The ache in your chest was constant, a dull pain that never fully went away, no matter how hard you tried to push it down.

It had taken every ounce of strength you had to leave him, to walk out the door and force yourself to believe that you deserved better, even if your heart hadn’t fully accepted it. You had convinced yourself that you were doing the right thing, that staying would only mean more heartbreak. But now that he was gone—off to war, with no guarantee that he would return—the uncertainty felt suffocating.

Every day, you found yourself wondering where he was, what he was doing. If he was safe. If he was thinking about you the way you were thinking about him. But you tried to push those thoughts aside. You had made your choice, and you had to stick to it. There was no point in holding on to false hope, not when the pain still ran so deep.

One morning, as you were finishing up chores on the farm, the mail truck arrived. You didn’t think much of it until you saw the letter, your name scrawled across the front in Buck’s familiar handwriting.

Your heart skipped a beat as you stared down at the envelope, your hands shaking as you carefully tore it open. For a moment, you weren’t sure if you could bring yourself to read it. What could he possibly have to say after everything that had happened? But curiosity—and the unresolved feelings you still harbored—won out.

You unfolded the letter, the familiar weight of his words pressing down on you as you began to read.

Y/N,

By the time you read this, I’ll be gone on another mission. I don’t know how much time I have left to write, but there are things I need to say—things I didn’t say when you stood in front of me, tears in your eyes, asking me to choose you.

I know I hurt you. I know I’ve let you down in ways I can’t even begin to explain, and I don’t blame you for leaving. You’re right—I haven’t made you feel like my first choice, and for that, I’m sorry. I’m so goddamn sorry.

When I was with you, everything was easy. You never asked for anything more than what I could give. But that’s what makes it worse, doesn’t it? You deserved so much more, and I failed to give it to you.

I don’t know how to fix what I broke, and the truth is, maybe I can’t. You told me that you wouldn’t be waiting for me when I came back, and I understand. You deserve more than the man I’ve been. But I need you to know something, Y/N. I need you to know the truth.

I love you.

Maybe I didn’t show it right, maybe I didn’t say it enough, but I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone. More than her. And I know what you’re thinking—why didn’t I prove it? Why did I always run to her?

I don’t have the answers that will make this right. The only thing I can say is that I’ve been a fool. I was trying to hold onto the past because it felt like something I needed to protect. But the more I held onto her, the more I realized I was losing the one thing I couldn’t live without—you.

I’ve been selfish, and I didn’t see it until it was too late. I know I may not get the chance to make this right. I don’t know what’s waiting for me out there, but I didn’t want to leave without telling you this.

If I don’t come back, I need you to know that I never stopped thinking about you. About us. About what we could’ve been if I hadn’t been such a coward.

I wish I could be there with you right now, telling you all of this face-to-face, begging for your forgiveness, but I can’t. I just hope that when this war is over, and if I’m lucky enough to come home, there’s still a chance. Even if it’s small. Even if it’s broken.

If I come back, I want to try to be the man you deserve.

But if this is the last letter you ever get from me, then I want you to know that you were the love of my life, Y/N. Always. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.

Be safe. Live your life fully, even if I’m not there to see it. You deserve that and so much more.

Yours always, Buck

You stared at the letter in your hands, Buck’s words blurring as tears welled in your eyes. You hadn’t expected this. You hadn’t expected him to say the things you had been so desperate to hear when you were still together. The apology, the confession of love—it was all there, written on the page like a final plea for your forgiveness.

But what hurt the most was knowing that he had only come to these realizations after you had left, after it was too late. After you had walked out that door, heartbroken and certain that you could never come back from the betrayal.

Your thoughts drifted back to that day, the moment when you had finally confronted him. You had stood there, spilling your heart out, telling him how much it hurt to feel like a second choice. You had reminded him about the time you were in the hospital—how sick you had been, how scared. You had asked him to come, needed him by your side more than ever, but he couldn’t.

You understood that he couldn’t leave the base. You had accepted that… until Marge called. She had needed him, and without a second thought, he dropped everything and ran to her. That had been the breaking point—the moment when you realized you couldn’t keep being the one left behind.

"It hurt so much, Buck. Too much for me to handle. I don’t even know if I’ll ever heal from this, because the more I love you, the more it hurts."

You had said those words through tears, your heart breaking even as you spoke them. And now, here you were again, crying over the same man, the same wounds.

But his letter… it was different. It wasn’t enough to erase the hurt, but it was something. It was the truth, finally. He had admitted to everything you’d been afraid of, and while that should have made it easier, it only made it more complicated.

Because despite everything, you still loved him. No matter how much he had hurt you, no matter how much you told yourself that you were done, you couldn’t stop loving him. You couldn’t turn off that part of your heart, no matter how hard you tried.

Buck had said he didn’t know if he’d come back. The thought of him not returning from the war sent a wave of panic through you, an emptiness settling in your chest. What if this was the last letter you ever got from him? What if he never came home?

You couldn’t shake the feeling of dread, the uncertainty of war hanging over both of your heads. But there was something else there too—a small, fragile flicker of hope. He had said that if he came back, he wanted to try. He wanted to be the man you deserved.

But could you give him that chance? Could you let yourself hope for a future where things would be different, where you wouldn’t always feel like second best? Or would the wounds run too deep to ever fully heal?

You didn’t have the answers. Not yet. All you had was the letter, and the words he had written—I love you. More than her.—echoing in your mind.

For now, all you could do was hope he came back safe. Hope that maybe, one day, you could have the conversation you had both been too afraid to have. And maybe, just maybe, you could find a way to rebuild what had been broken.

But for now, you would wait. Not for him, but for clarity. For a future where you could make the choice that was right for you.

It had been weeks since Buck’s last letter—weeks that felt like an eternity, stretched taut with fear and uncertainty. Every day that passed without word from him made your heart ache, the silence becoming more unbearable than anything you could’ve imagined.

The last letter from him had left you reeling. It had been filled with apologies, admissions of his failures, and confessions of love, all wrapped up in the kind of raw vulnerability you hadn’t seen from Buck in the months leading up to your breakup. And now, there was nothing but empty space where his words should’ve been.

You had told yourself you were done with him. That after everything—the constant running to her, the feeling of being second best, the hurt that had built up like a wall between you—there was no going back. You had told yourself that walking away was the right decision. But your heart… your heart didn’t seem to care.

It had been weeks of trying to distract yourself, of throwing yourself into the farm work, keeping busy, and pretending that you weren’t waiting for him. But every time you saw the mail truck drive by, your heart would skip a beat. Every time you saw the sky, clear and blue, you’d think of him up there, flying, and you’d wonder—where was he? Was he safe? Was he thinking of you?

And then, one cold afternoon, just as the sky was turning gray with winter clouds, the letter came.

You hadn’t expected it—weren’t even sure you could handle it—but when you saw the envelope with his name scrawled across it in that familiar handwriting, something inside you twisted. This wasn’t like the other letters. The paper was worn, dirt-smudged at the corners. The handwriting was different—uneven, hurried.

Your hands trembled as you tore it open, your stomach churning with both fear and hope. The moment you read the first line, your breath caught in your throat, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis.

Y/N,

I don’t know how this letter will reach you, but I hope to God it does. I’m writing from a German POW camp. My plane was shot down on our last mission, and I’ve been captured. There’s no easy way to say this, and I hate to think of you reading this, worrying about me even more than you probably already do.

I’m not hurt, not really, just tired. Tired in a way I can’t explain. But I’m alive, and that’s something, right?

I think about you every single day. Even more so now that I’m here, in a place where everything seems so far away and unreal. But you—you’re always with me. I still have your picture, the one you gave me before everything went wrong. I keep it tucked in my left jacket pocket, right over my heart. I put it there the day you left, and it hasn’t moved since.

There are nights when I pull it out and just stare at it, thinking of you, wondering if I’ll ever get the chance to see you again. I remember how it felt to hold you, how you laughed, how you’d roll your eyes at my stupid jokes. It’s what keeps me going, even here, even now.

I know you might still be angry. Hell, I’m still angry at myself. I keep thinking about what I did, about how I didn’t deserve the love you gave me. But it’s all I have now—your love. Even if you don’t forgive me, even if I never get to fix what I broke, I want you to know that carrying your love with me is the only thing getting me through this.

I’m not asking for forgiveness in this letter. I’m not asking for anything, really. I just wanted you to know that if I make it out of here alive, it’s because of you. I’m still fighting to come home to you.

I love you, Y/N. I love you more than I’ll ever be able to say.

Yours always, Buck

The letter fell from your hands as you pressed your palm to your mouth, tears filling your eyes as you let the words sink in. He was alive. He was still out there, somewhere, thinking of you, carrying your picture in his jacket—next to his heart.

He had been shot down. Captured.

Your heart pounded in your chest, fear coursing through your veins as you tried to imagine what he must be going through. A Prisoner Of War camp. The thought alone sent chills through you. You didn’t know what conditions he was in, how dangerous it was, how much time he had left. But he was alive. And that was something.

But more than that… he still loved you.

I love you more than I’ll ever be able to say.

You stared down at the letter, reading and rereading those words, your chest tight with emotion. All this time, you had tried to convince yourself that you were done, that you had moved on, that walking away from him was the right choice. But deep down, you knew the truth.

You hadn’t stopped loving him.

Buck’s words brought back memories—memories of the man you fell in love with before everything became so complicated. The man who made you laugh, who held you when the world felt too heavy. The man who could make you feel like you were the only person that mattered, even when everything else was falling apart.

But those memories were tangled up with the hurt, the betrayal, the constant running to her. You had wanted to be his first choice, but it had always felt like you were second. Even now, those wounds hadn’t healed. You didn’t know if they ever would.

But in this moment, none of that seemed to matter. All that mattered was that Buck was still out there, still fighting to come home. And if he was still fighting… maybe you could too.

You had never written him back after leaving, but now, for the first time since you’d walked away, you felt ready to speak. You pulled out a piece of paper and sat at the small wooden table, the pen feeling heavy in your hand as you began to write the first letter since you had said goodbye.

Buck,

I don’t even know where to begin. I’m sitting here, rereading your letter, and all I can think is, thank God you’re alive. Thank God you’re okay. I’ve been so afraid, Buck. I’ve been terrified that I’d never hear from you again, that I’d never get the chance to say what’s been in my heart since I left.

It’s hard for me to put into words how I’ve felt these past few months. You hurt me in ways I didn’t think were possible, and I won’t pretend that those scars have healed. But reading your letter, knowing that you still carry my picture with you, knowing that you’re fighting to come home to me… it’s brought everything into perspective.

I still love you, Buck. I never stopped, not even after I walked away. It hurt so much because I loved you so much. And that love hasn’t gone away. I can’t deny it anymore.

When you told me you were running to her because she needed you, it felt like a betrayal. Like I would always come second in your life. I needed you too, Buck, but you weren’t there. And that broke me. I won’t lie to you—it still breaks me.

But despite all of that, I’m sitting here writing to you because my heart refuses to let go of you. You’re still a part of me, even now. And I want you to know that if—when—you come back, I’ll be here. I’ll be waiting for you.

I’m not ready to say I forgive you, not yet. There’s still a lot to work through, a lot that needs to be said between us. But what I can say is this: I love you. I’ve always loved you, and I’ll keep loving you, no matter what happens.

So come back to me, Buck. Please, come back safe. We’ll figure the rest out when you’re home.

Yours, Y/N

As you finished the letter, you folded it carefully, your hands trembling with a mixture of hope and fear. The fear of losing him again was overwhelming, but the hope—the hope that maybe, just maybe, you could have a future together—was enough to keep you going.

You sealed the envelope and handed it to the postman the next day, your heart heavy with all the things left unsaid, yet lightened by the chance to say what truly mattered.

The days after sending the letter passed slowly, the uncertainty gnawing at you as you waited, hoping for some kind of word—some kind of sign that Buck was still holding on. You pictured him pulling out your photo, keeping it close as he faced each day, and it gave you the strength to keep going.

You didn’t know if he would get your letter, didn’t know if he would make it back to you. But the one thing you did know was that love—your love for Buck—was still there. And no matter how broken things had been, no matter how much hurt had passed between you, that love was still worth fighting for.

Now, all you could do was wait. Again…

[coffeegnomee]

I wanted to write about how far Zam has come with his character for like a week now and now he’s acknowledged it himself so I finally grabbed all the quotes.

Let’s go down memory lane shall we? 

DAY 1 

24:00 “There’s a ghost that haunts my dreams [...] I see him in my sleep. He tells me to kill people. But I don’t want to kill anyone”

“I have to hold it in.. [...] I wish I had like horror sound effects to play and images of every lifesteal member dead and I could flash them across the screen” does that. 

ZAM: “*lights armadillo on fire* “give it a slow, painful death” PENTAR: “for someone against the whole idea of killing, you seem to have a gruesome way around killing things.” ZAM “I’m still me” [armadillo dies.] “I can only resist the urges so much [evil giggle]”

10:07:00 after Pentar kills him “It’s not about being above anyone by not killing people, I would just prefer not to. Because last season I feel like I was.. Something else. And I don’t want to do that again. I don’t want to be that again. You know?”

“Because it’s not supposed to be some morality, ‘I’m better than you’ kind of thing, you know? I don’t want to be on some like high horse. It’s more of like, I just don’t wanna let the demon out, you know, that type of thing”

Reflecting on the first two days, I wrote this about Zam: This season looks like an internal battle of his personal desire to complete a minecraft challenge™ (no kills) vs his desire to do lore and change his character multiple times. And I just don’t think the challenge wins long term. A challenge isn’t what makes him love lifesteal, it’s the lore. 

Day 4 7/9/24

1:01:05 “‘zam has no enemies’ no, it’s not that I have no enemies, it’s just that if I kill people, I’m going to become like a monster. Like way worse than anyone else on the server. You know? And I like don’t want that reputation if I’m like just peacefully building. [...] ‘oh bro’s scared to hurt others then?’ yup! [...] ‘bad things will happen…. (meep)’ yea last time I hurt someone, last time i tried to hurt someone, bad things happened. And i just… can’t do that again, you know?”

1:21:40 killing bogged in trial chamber. “It feels nice cutting things down, I don’t think I’ve been doing enough of this. [...] I’m going to kill all of you, I’m going to kill every single one of you. [...] is it weird to say that I’ve missed this? Even though ‘this’ is just cutting down a bunch of skeletons, just jumping up and down and left clicking [...]  [evil giggles (and not to anything in chat)] [...] my sword might say “im so sorry’ but I’m not sorry, I’m not even a little sorry right now” 

2:19:05 “”also Zam is emo’ (chips) “no i’m not! I’m so happy! I’m the happiest i've been in a long time. That’s why I have my nipple out. That’s not true why did i say that” 

4:04:50 Wemmbu killed Spoke. ZAM: “[opens statistics] it still says zero. It still says zero. It still says zero it still says zero. So I’m fine. I’m fine. Cause it still says zero.. [walks around base] I’m fine. It’s perfectly fine. ‘0 plants potted’ (arch) okay actually that’s what I got the clay for so.. Thank you for saying that actually, very convenient timing. [goes to shed to smelt] [blows out breath] I’m just gonna chop down trees. I’m just gonna chop down trees and I’m just gonna leave this group and I’m gonna chop down trees and I’m gonna have a fun time and nothing bad’s gonna happen. And everything’s gonna be a-okay [hannah logged on] I thought Mapicc logged on I cannot lie. Okay maybe I’m scared. [Mapicc logs on] [gasp, crouches] motherfucker. Motherfucker [under breath]”

Dies to Mapicc three times. 

5:26:00 is thinking about how he’s doing a character nobody else on lifesteal has done before. Puts on a lore song. “‘If there’s one thing you’ve been consistent in the last two seasons, it’s been steady in your morals until the end’ (chips) yea. But here’s the thing though [giggle] does it matter? Or like, what’s it called. Am I restricting myself? Do you guys think? Most definitely, right. And it’s like. I dunno, a big part of me feels like it would be nice to like, let go, and just like, join in on all the violence, and everything, and all that stuff. You know? Like it would be nice. It would be nice, I think. Maybe. Maybe not, I don't know… [evil giggle] ahhh. [long pause, arch in chat said ‘once you do it you can’t go back though’ he doesn’t read it out] [lore music cuts out] [very seriously] no that’s stupid. No. I’m not gonna. I’m not gonna. [blows breath] I’m not gonna let myself go as far as I did last season. I’m not gonna let myself do anything like that again [tehe giggle] [huffs out breath]”

5:28:18 “‘it was fun tho’ (chips) it was, but it was fun at the expense of others. It was fun… but it was damaging to the server.. It was. I dunno. I don’t think it’s who I want to be. I don’t think I was born to be…That. you know? I don’t know. I feel like that’s not who I am. I feel like that was never who I was.” 

7/13/24 end fight day 

~2:38:00 ZAM: “‘its not ok to kill people but it's ok to ask people really nicely to kill people you don't like’ I’m allowed to persuade people’s opinions, I think, and I can only do that when I’m really really mad. [...] But i dunno. [sigh] I’ve messaged both opposing teams so i dunno, I don’t care enough though. Whatever. This is beyond me."

“Joker zam went back into his closet’ (meep) that’s true. I was possessed for a second there. [messages MC chat saying that] ‘my evil self wishes for me to kill everyone. I won’t tho.' 

7/14/24 day he kills planet

Hour and half of Pangi messing with him while he gets more and more frustrated at the shulker farm. 

1:28:50 Zam flies after Pangi and crits him out, but he stops. “I can’t crit him out like that, I’m gonna get my first player kill and it’s gonna ruin all my lore” 

1:40:00 pangi is still singing, Zam bows him, then tries fishing rodding him. He comes up the farm PANGI: “hey PrinceZam, do you need therapy?” ZAM: “shut up you always got some noise to make, shut up. [...] I bet you’re my first kill this season” PANGI: “BAHAHAA” ZAM: “just kidding I won’t kill anyone. Just kidding. Just kidding just kidding. That was a joke. That was a joke. I won’t kill anyone. [blows out breath]” PANGI: “okay PrinceZam.” 

1:47:00 ZAM: “what the fuck just happened to me. Dude, I need to stop. He keeps, he keeps trying to get me to get my first kill, bro. He’s trying to get me to get my first kill. I can’t. I can’t do it. I can’t do it. It’s getting harder and harder, with each and every day, to hold back [sigh] oooh kay. ‘Why aren’t you killing anybody’ because as soon as I kill one person, I go down a dark dark path. And you don’t want to see that dark dark path. ‘WE DO’ I don’t. K fine, maybe you do. I don’t. A great darkness lurks within me. A great darkness lurks within me. It’s consumed me, ever since, ever since I was young. ‘Your dark side is banging on the door, let the poor guy in’ no. noo. I’m gonna build a closet in my house. ‘PLEASE DO IT’ where could I even, oh I know where I could actually build a closet right now, let’s do that right now actually hold on. Unironically lets do that right now” 

6:24:44 zam goes to bacon in his base, “Whenever I sleep, he comes to me. So i try not to sleep in that bed anymore” BACON: “[baffled] how did that even start. Like how did you even, what, how did this even become a thing in your head” ZAM: “[ignoring] there’s a demon in my closet, any time, any time I die he comes closer to possessing me.” BACON: “okay what is the demon trying to get you to do.” ZAM: “kill everyone” BACON: “oooohhh. Oh I like that. Okay okay” ` 

Then there’s the fated Bacon stream 

2:39:00 bacon and planet meme around about the build battle rules and Zam snaps, “if you want to be a bitch about it you don’t have to fucking play, goddamm. Dumbass fucking planetlord and baconnwaffles. I hate both of you. Fuck you guys. I’m going back into the house… i’m going into my closet” 

They clean up spawn a bit, he comes back out swinging at them. Then goes on top of the lighthouse and starts shooting them from a distance. 

Planet takes off all his armor and pops like a grape.

Then on Spep’s stream he stalks Spep around to the End islands, generally just looks really threatening. Says he won’t remember this when he wakes up, but Spep will. 

7/15/24 

~14:00 ZAM: “[strained] dude, pangi I killed planet” PANGI: “[strained too]I know. Hey, it wasn’t your fault” ZAM: “i shouldn’t have even had a bow” 

He builds the tree and writes his first oath 

In the first draft he wrote “I cannot do anything that goes against the interest of the entire server”

he changed “entire server” to “majority of players” to “most players” 

And changed “attack any player” because chat went crazy about him not being able to punch anyone, to “kill any other players” 

7/18/24 

Flame and mapicc start fighting

22:40 ZAM: “dude I did give mapicc a heads up there, I can’t lie. [realizing] I’ve been playing all sides, I can’t lie. This is interesting. I’m just chummy with everyone, I dunno, i don't do it intentionally. I do it a little intentionally, i can’t lie, but not like, intentionally”

33:20 ZAM: “I really don’t like the idea of playing both sides, but like, like- I’m trying my hardest not to, [...] Like if you shove 100 dollars in my face like I’m probably gonna take it right? Like like [giggling], it’s just like, ugh, it’s so stupid [laughing] i don’t like this. I don't know, I’m opportunist I guess. I’m just an opportunist I guess because I'm pacifist and I don't wanna die." So. But like also I really just don’t like the idea of being someone who plays both sides, it’s so awkward” while watching the fight from a distance. "

7/20/24 

From 2:43:00 to 3:15:00 hops between group chats and instinctively gets information and relays it to everyone else. Actually just leaks every word he hears lol. 

4:51:10 “imagine flame goes on a killing spree just so he can pay you to make more builds lol’ (citrus) dude. Is the blood on my hands then? That’s something I was wondering, what if this becomes bad. To where they’re like murdering people just for the sake of like, whats it called, paying me. ‘Yes you're evil then’ (sin) aw shit. It’s my fault. I mean I guess it depends on how bad it gets. I felt really bad when they killed jepex for me. I can’t lie, in the moment I thought it was really funny but looking back, it’s literally the same as like. Like I think me asking them to kill someone is the same as me killing them myself, it lowkey does not matter. So I’m lowkey like having another moral dilemma right there, on that one. ”

“I’m gonna stop asking people to fucking kill people for me that’s stupid, i don’t want to do that anymore”

This is so interesting, because day 1 he just wanted the statistic, and it was okay for him to do traps or gaslight people and all that. Then it was no traps, no violence. Then it was it’s okay to influence the opinions of people who already want to kill the people I want dead. Now it’s like, even that is not okay.

7/21/24 building Flame’s volcano in one day

45:00 [unprompted] “do you know something I was thinking of, which like, i just feel like it would be so easy to turn like, any tree, at spawn, into a trap. It would be so easy right? [...] I’m not gonna do it! Just like a fun idea. [..] [starts making the trap] but then it would make it real. I shouldn’t do this actually. I- i shouldn’t do this. This isn’t a good idea. Nevermind. Nevermind. [rubs face] Ooh my god, back to building back to building. I’m building I’m just building. [puffs out breath] I’m just building. I’m building a castle. I’m not why would I - why would i even make a [giggles] why did I even do that in the first place.” 

2:43:00 breaking the bedrock of the end fountain to make a concrete duper “i feel really good at this. Like too good at this. It’s just holding down q, it’s not that special. But fuck. ‘It’s in your blood’ I don't want to be the guy that left behind, that broke all that bedrock, you know? I don’t want that to be my legacy, I don't want that to be my reputation. I don’t want that to be what I leave behind. Aw geeze. [breaks last bedrock] oh my god. [frustrated] That was effortless”

7:31:30 “‘it’s ok you can blame all your blunders on the demon’ (seri) [lore] what if there was no demon. [not lore] new headcanon. Just me trying to justify my acts. [soft giggle] waittt.. [pause] thank goodness the demon is real, so. the demon is real. Only i can see him” 

8:23:00 crashout over not being “able” to defend himself.  “‘its okay zam we saw how you are at the end of every single season’ (citrus) yea, you guys have. The deep darkness that’s within me, [giggle] ugh. ‘They’ll see… one day’ (mer) I don’t want them to see, no, that’s the thing, i don’t want them to see. [..] It’s just like, like I Could fight, it’s just such a hassle, to like, get into it, and then not, you know. Cause like, okay, okay, here here, let’s envision it, lets say I do want to fight people, right? theoretically, but, I don’t want to let out the evil evil darkness that’s within me, right? How the hell am I gonna do that when I’m constantly taking fights, constantly losing, constantly getting overly attached, overly invested in conflict, like how am i gonna, how am I gonna contain the demon within, if I, what’s it called, if I, if I’m constantly getting myself into fights? You know? ‘Getting good’ (chips) no but like I’m being dead serious, like cause, what’s it called, eventually they’re gonna hit me in a way that is gonna make me want to go full force, there’s no point in trying to fight if I’m not gonna go 100% all in, you know? So. I dunno. Maybe if I get better at my self control and discipline” 

So there’s two things. One, “it’s a hassle” is classic burnout. And you just have to wait for burnout to leave. And two, he is very self aware that someone will do something that will make him get invested. But he won’t flip that switch until that happens because there is no point. Which is very valid and wise. 

It’s such an interesting conversation, because it’s the first time he hasn’t made breaking his oath into a silly lore moment. It’s really settling into being a real part of him. He’s being honest about what fighting would actually do.

10:36:00 talks to jumper about his pacifism and their parallels. He tells her about how he knows he’ll get too invested and he wont want to hold back. As opposed to being unable. 

7/24/24 

53:10 Zam goes to the trial chambers again “dude wait these slimes have strength, are they gonna kill me? Dude I wanted to feel something but now I’m just not feeling anything actually. I was, I was, I was expecting more of a challenge”

7/25/24 day 1 peace trials

16:30 “do you think SB737 is going to kill me if he finds me? His layer’s off, I think he ran away from spawn after that one. I could see him trying though. I’ve lowkey, dude, lowkey i've been wishing someone would kill me, unfortunately I did starve to death, so now I don’t wish someone would kill me anymore. But like, it’s just been sooo peaceful, building these past few days you know? Like i haven’t ran into any kind of metal peril in soooo long like that’s crazy you know. It’s been a hot minute.”

First time he talks about wanting to be chased. 

37:00 annoyed about SB butting him in D teir for how easy he would be killed.  “‘zam is the most aggressive pacifist’ yea! Cause I mean how else am I supposed to let my anger out other than with my words. I still have emotions. They're still there” 

7/29/24 

1:07:24 still ignoring Bacon “If I’m gonna be a pacifist and not kill people, I should be able to hold a grudge somehow” “my only fighting method” 

Plotting the shift in zam’s mindset is like making a color spectrum and it’s just ever so slightly gradient-ed and before you know it it’s just all red.

8/17/24 

58:00  MANE: “but think about how many hearts I’ve given you before Zam”  ASH: “WAIT. ZAm is accepting hearts from people That Kill? That’s not very peaceful of you zam. That goes against your oath. You’re just accepting heart that has, that puts blood on your hands. I’m not even joking about this” ZAM: “I-, I don’t. I don’t think it does.” ASH: “You’re benefiting from the spoils of the death that you claim to be so against”  Zam jumps away from the conversation at the same time. nervously? 

ZAM: “[calmly] if kills have already happened what am I supposed to do to stop it. I only care about myself not killing people” [parkouring over to the roof of the house] ASH: “You literally” ZAM: “not other people. The server can do whatever the fuck it wants. I don’t care” PANGI” aaahhhhh” ASH: “That’s the most. That’s the most selfish view” 

ZAM: “I learned from you! The best side to play is all sides, right? That’s what you said [...] hypocrytical as fuck” ASH: “I mean, I’m not claiming to be any good person, I’m just saying your whole oath and code of honor is” ZAM: “I’m not either. I’m trying to be a good person but, hey” PANGI: “You’re doing a really bad job I can tell you that, Zam” ZAM: “yea. [swings around to look at pangi] coming from you is crazy” 

1:03:00 “‘you’ve only done build commissions for incredibly violent people huh’ (arch) that is something to consider huh, am I [sharp breath in] let me put on the lore music hold on. Am I. and I, I don’t think I’m the worst person to- okay. No. you know what? It doesn’t matter. Because there are worse people on this server. So I’m not that bad by comparison [...] You know I’m doing better than I did last season [...] So I’m okay. I’m happy with my choices I feel like. I dunno. I mean like gaining, gaining hearts is not the worst thing in the world, it’s kind of like the point of the server is it not? I dunno. Hmmm ‘i mean violent people are the ones who have the hearts’ (citrus) exactly! Yea, my only, the only people I CAN do business with is the violent people”

“But by taking hearts from them am I not encouraging them to kill more? Yea, that’s something to consider as well, you know? Cause, but it’s like. Ugggghhh let me read through the oath again. ‘Are they killing other violent people or innocents’ (arch) that’s true! I mean. They kill innocents when they feel like killing innocents it depends on the person i’m dealing with. [...]  I can’t control what other people do. It’s not selfish [heavy emphasis. Meaning ashsawg’s comment] it’s just like, me controlling what I can control. You can only control, you should only worry about what you can control, and what I can control is limiting myself.”

“I mean shit. What do I even want these hearts for” 

“‘you got one kill’ ‘you killed planet’ okay okay okay you killed planet okay. I hate how many people are talking about that. [..]  ‘YOU CANNOT DENY IT ZAM’ yes I fucking can! Yes I fucking can! Because I shot at him as a fucking like bit, because was obviously never to kill him, and he took off all his fucking armor. I’ve been over it! I have been over it like a million times it’s insane! I gave back the heart too like what. [opens statistics] Like it doesn’t even count. [closes statistics] It does not count. ‘You’re still killing’ [mocking] you're still killing. Okay actual like bot opinion. Bot take. Actual bot take is what this is. Insane. Like actually insane. The fact that people are still on this is craaaazy like actually crazy. ‘PANGI HASN’T’ oohhhh that’s what this is about. That’s what this is about. That’s what this is about, it’s about pangi, and and pangi being better than me okay.” 

“That’s what this is about. It means nothing to me. Means nothing to me. I don’t care. PANGI LITERALLY- okay. Okay. okay. Okay. okay. Okay. okay. Okay. [giggle laugh] pangi is a pacifist because he wants to be. But that’s like. Dude, woogie 1 for 1 took my thing. Dude, it’s crazy how many people are pacifist why did everyone like take my thing I mean like the whole point is proof of concept is prove that it’s possible, right, but like heh heh. It’s also lame that other people are taking my thing. [more deranged leaning giggles] ‘everybody wants to be princezam.’ (mer) oh my god. “

8/19/24 

~1:11:00 found Mapicc in his base. MAPICC: “and i just like, when are you gonna kill people” ZAM: “pppffff [mocking/flabberghasted] ‘when are you going to kill people?’ [reduced to laughter] MAPCIC: ”mmhmm” ZAM: “I’m not!” MAPICC: “see that's so weird.” [...] ZAM: “you start critting me out I don’t fight back” MAPICC: “actually?” ZAM: “no like genuinely, yea” MPAICC: “wait. Okay [pots up and takes all armor off but helmet and boots]” 

1:34:00 “a little terrifying i can’t lie. it’s weird. I feel like after an encounter like that I’d have a teammate to go talk to about this. But there really isn't anyone like that this time around”

8/22/24 

3:30 about the mapicc infestation “It was a very interesting fight. Honestly one of my favorite fights of the season” 

19:40 “ohh ‘kaboodle the pacifist’ (evi4) Wait kaboodle the pacifist? Are we fucking serious. Yo. okay. Okay.  i’m not even going to say nothing bro. I’m not even going to say nothing. I’m. I’m not even going to say nothing. I’m not even going to say nothing. I’m not. I’m not even [starting to laugh]  going to say nothing, bro [deep breath in and out] how come the one season. Like the one season, that i do it and it’s like interesting, everyone else decides to do it. In season 4 no one copied subz. Everyone made fun of him. But now, but now i do it and everyone wants to fucking be me okay. Okay. no okay. No okay. No like. Bro. [so sad] [...] ‘Everyone is just scared of the big pvp-ers’ (arch) that’s true. It’s not even. It’s not even like me. Oh my god. It’s not even because i’m cool. No it’s not even because of me, it’s just they don’t want to get killed”

27:00 kab asks if she can talk to zam and get advice “oh bet. Oh i love giving advice to my fellow pacifists. My favorite thing to do ever” /sarcastic

31:40 Woogie drops in “Zam is amazing at making people peaceful”

34:00 “if your goal is pacifism, then yea, he’s passing, but if your goal is to not get murdered by people then you probably shouldn’t be destroying other people’s builds, you know. That’s how you start wars” about pangi’s pacifism. 

Which is ALSO interesting. Because zam cares about not starting wars because he doesn't want to get emotionally pulled into a fight.

ZAM: “its like i’m in a skit. And like, as soon as i start questioning one character, and another character comes out and is like “ooh i’m also a remake of you!” what the fuck is happening” 

“You know what’s keeping me going is that i’ll probably outlast them” 

42:40 “is this a bad thing? Am i bad for not wanting them to be a, [laugh] to be peaceful like me? Is that a bad thing? I mean like, i feel like, uhg. But it’s like, they- [sharp breath in] what is- what have THEY gone through? To want this change” 

“Like kaboodle is doing it to save her skin. Woogie is doing it to save his skin, like. It’s very different i feel like. It’s just very different. I [whispers] oh  my god. [spins around] what did. What do they know! What do they know. Oh my god. Fuck damn. I think that’s why i’m upset. It’s not that like, [long pause] bruh.” 

“How can i rise about the rest. That's what i want to do now. That’s what I wanna do now. I want to rise above the rest. That’s what i’m thinking about right now, i’ll be honest. How do I [sharp breath in] [blows air out] like. This is-. [grumble] this is stupid. This is dumb. I shouldn't even think about this. You know what this is dumb."

48:00 “it’s not like a fun thing to do. Like. I- being a pacifist has been like, it’s it’s had its moments i guess. I dunno though. Definitely, i’ll admit it, not the most.. fun. But uh. Thats. that’s besides the point. That’s okay. That’s.. that’s fine [deep breath in and out]” 

“‘being a pacifist isn't for everyone, you have to truly believe in the rules and know your own limits so you can be pacifist’ (hexlarry) but like that’s the thing, do i even like, fully believe in it? Cause now i’m starting to question myself. I mean I did it not so that i could save my own skin. I did it so that i could, i dunno, just avoid repeating prior mistakes. And things like that. Sooo. because getting myself into fights would probably lead me down a very very dark path and i don't want to [sharp breath] i don't wanna do all that so by avoiding conflict at all costs I, I can, what’s it called, hmmm [spins around] fuck [princezam distress noises] [...] ‘has something changed’ i dunno. I’d hope not”

“‘it feels like they’re mocking you a little’ (evu) a little bit! I guess so. That’s kind of true as well honestly. I dunno. Hmmm, it’s very. Very interesting. Very interesting turn of events. I dunno. It’s not that i feel like it’s my thing. I feel like everyone should be allowed to do it, it just feels like the way that they’re doing it kind of is like, i guess it is, i dunno. It’s a little bit like.. Hmm yea ‘it’s an easy way out to them’ (arch) to them, to them it doesn't have any of the same significance it does to me. They're doing it because they want to live longer, they want to hold onto their hearts longer, i’m doing it because I like- i essentially need to- ugh. I dunno. I’m doing it- hrmmm. No, i’m doing it because… Because i want to. Because I want to. I want to. It’s my decision. I want to do it. I dunno [jumps around thinking for a while]” 

The last part is said in the same tone he used during the Abyss arc when his team wasn't logging on to help him.

“It’s not about what other people have done though. It’s about me upholding an oath i guess. Me.. avoiding [giggle] repeating mistakes and stuff. Umm. i dunno ‘it’s a conflict with myself’ (mer) exactly. It’s entirely. Entirely within me. And that was a situation that, admittedly, I had control over. I could have just not shot my bow at him. It’s a lesson learned i guess. But. I dunno. I- I just hate it. I hate it so much because that was not meant to happen at all. Like. it’s ridiculous. Its just ridiculous i feel like. I dunno. ‘Bro is still talking about this’ yea because I care about it.”

8/23/24

5:38:00  WEMMBU: “you’re profiting off the economy of people being murdered” ZAM: “I don’t know if that’s true at all even. That’s just. [trying to talk while wemmbu is talking over him] Anyone who lives on this server is profiting off the economy bro. I don't know what you’re talking about. [...] That that’s like breathing air on this server is benefitting form the economy bro” WEMMBU: “and you’re the one that’s saying you’re and innocent soul bruh” ZAM: “i’m, somewhat innocent. I’m innocent to the point where I won’t lure someone to spawn so you guys can kill them. That's how innocent I am” WEMMBU: “wah wahh wah” 

And he leaves the group

ZAM: “Get me the fuck out of here. I simply participate in society. All i do is live and breathe air and try to live an honest to god living.”

~5:51:00 “‘Oh so you agree you’d be responsible in that scenario’ (arch) yea! If he’s going out of his way to kill people For That [the build he wanted to commission], like to pay For That, I feel like yea, I feel like then I’m definitely responsible. [...] But mane, flame, mapicc, they already have the hearts, I know they withdrew them from their hotbar, they did in front of me, it did the sound. So, yea. And flame just had a heart bank that he went and grabbed. So. yea no, those hearts were already acquired. They were, like, those kills happened, it’s over. It’s good.” 

8/24/24

2:13:00 “that was interesting. What a day. I almost hopped into a fight. Probably wont do it again, that was a one time offer. But. i dunno. I was willing to die for a cause. I wasn’t going to hit him.” 

“Maybe i faltered. Did I falter? By willing to fight? I wouldn’t hit him. I don’t think. Maybe I’d hit him. I don’t- [scoff] would it be fine as long as i don't kill him?” “it’s my rules” 

“Yea mapicc did get really excited when i mentioned pvp. That was really interesting. That was cool. I do have no critting yea. Hmmm. i dunno. I did just want to support my friend flame ‘you're just helping out a friend i think thats in the servers best interests’ (arch) that’s true. Yea. if i, i dunno, cause like the main goal is to just work in the server’s best interests. And i guess in that situation that, specific, little situation, fighting flame was actually in everyone, everyone who’s online’s best interests. Ironically. So yea. Despite it normally being the wrong answer, violence was kind of the answer to fixing that problem there. ” 

2:18:00  “I’m worried though. Like I feel like the lack of violence encourages me to like, i dunno” 

“I think people should be more violent, i think that’s fair, that’s what this server is about. I haven't changed my stance on that, the server is about killing people. It’s not about [giggle] the atrocities I’ve committed, that’s for sure” 

“‘That’s not very pacifist I mean’ like that’s whatever, it’s princezam then. It doesn’t matter. Pacifist is just the moniker I chose, but if it’s not fitting it’s not fitting. I’m doing whatever I believe” 

“‘the blowing up builds and killing weaklings was your more problem. not your violence inherently’ (arch) exactly. And unfortunately I feel like with any sort of violence [tsht] unfortunately all paths lead to that road. You know? Everything will just eventually get me there. I think it’s better to swear it off, you know. It’s just, It’s just for the better”

Flame blows up spawn.

2:52:00 “And my heart count too. I was trying to get to 20 but like - what does that even do, what is that even good for, if i can't do anythin- if i’m powerless to stuff like this, if i’m powerless to this. This. Like what’s the point, even like what’s-... I feel like everything I’ve done is just like actually completely futile now. Like, none of it matters. NONE of it matters, not even a little, if other people are just going to take up the mantle. What like, what’s the POINT?... I don't get it. I mean holding out, not giving in, despite all of this, would prove me as a way stronger player than him, but WHAT GOOD DOES THAT ACCOMPLISH. SO WHAT?! Like, he’s just going to do this again, like why does it matter? Why does it even matter? What the- what does moral highground get me? What does moral high ground even get me. Why did i think this was even a good idea even a little bit, [so loud] OH MY GOD. [pause] ‘It doesn't even mean anything to anyone but me’ (arch) exactly. This. oh my god. It’s not just to myself though (arch) it’s ahhh Fuck. It’s supposed to make up for everything I did- For just everything I did in general really. That’s what it’s supposed to be, but, like ah, does anyone care really? Does anyone care? Other than me? At this point I don't think so. There’s bigger problems. ‘Spawn looked the best this season’ it did. It really did. It really really did. It really did. [tabs out for a long time, just silent] i can't’ believe this. I can’t believe this. [sigh] oh my god. [leaning head back] Dude. and like. Oh my god. Yea no one is going to do anything that’s true. The fact of the matter is [laughing as talking] no one is going to do anything about this. Because no one cares. And that’s what he’s going to realize. [...] That’s all fine to me, it doesn't matter. It doesn’t matter. This is definitely the furthest I’ve wavered, on this path of mine. Dear god. [blows out breath] and i was the only one here to do anything about it oh my god [silence] ‘they did call me ground zero’ [puts head in hands while reading it] is it my fault? Is it my- wait you’re right. [breathing heavily] it kind of in a, in a weird, fucked up twisted way, it kind of is my fault. Because my stupid pacifism stuff it it spiraled out of control and got to woogie, got to pangi, it’s it’s like [grrr grumble] (all of chat is screaming that it isn't his fault.) I, oh my god. Oh my god. Dude like. I actually feel so dumb. I feel like I’ve wasted the past month or two. I’ve actually just feel like I’ve been wasting my time. Like, like none of that matters. Actually none of that matters, I feel like, anymore. And like, because I did all that, everyone else copied me. Everyone copied me, they were right! No, they were right. That’s the messed up part of this, is that they’re Right. And that they probably will get a fight out of this, that’s the Fucked up part of this” 

3:04:00 “If I fight them I give them exactly what they want. It’s so fucked up. There’s no, there's no winning option here. There’s nothing I can do to win” 

Realizes he can just rebuild. Rejuvenated in one second flat. 

“Do I just keep rebuilding it over and over? [...]  But I don’t care! I’m not giving up. I don't care, I don't care!” “this is literally what I do. What am I tripping for? This is literally what I do”

3:35:30 “I feel like most people would not have the mental fortitude to experience what I just experienced and then Not Fight. Like that is an absurd thing to do. But it’s a me thing to do. So” 

3:37:00 “i know i don't have all of my screws together, but i definitely, i think i could win a battle of mental fortitude if I wanted”

Talks to everyone and forms Gaia’s Hand

5:46:00 wrapping up stream along “dude I know like, i’m real confident and real happy and shit, but I , I am terrified. I am terrified [stares into a big cave thinking] i dunno. I'm not gonna second guess myself but. It’s just- it’s a scary battle. It’s a very scary battle. I dunno”

“Mean, I’m not alone. That's true. That definitely helps [...] I feel like the last time I spent a lot of time repairing spawn it didn't end too well. Lowkey that’s when everything went horribly wrong, actually. i feel like it’s just been downhill since there.”

“I am doing this to spite flame, but at the same time the thing I care about the most is just having the server where spawn can't just get destroyed. I dunno. That’s what I care about the most”

5:53:40 “‘you and your attachments to spawn’ (seri) [wistful] it’s, it’s the heart of the server. It’s the heart of the server. And, i dunno, I can’t, i can’t help myself but protect it. In every way that I can. I dunno. It’s just in my nature. Which is ironic, considering the atrocities I’ve committed.” 

8/29/24

44:30 “support the people trying to ban them and the builds won’t get destroyed anymore’ (chips) that’s true. But do the ends justify the means? Like sure I will get spawn builds being safe, but I’m, I also am taking some part in someone getting banned off the server. which, i dunno. I feel like i don't want to be a part of” 

45:00 “Is it for the greater good, or it for my greater good. It has to be objective, it can’t be a skewed biased point of view” 

1:05:20 “i can only control myself, and only the small few who have joined me” “kaboodle and woogie” “Ironically they’re truly the only ones who are part of gaia’s hand”

Week long break for MMCR

9/9/24

11:40 ZAM: “I’ve kind of realigned my look on the server [...] Everyone’s goal goes back to, like, killing. So I feel like if I help anyone I’m like sort of contributing to the violence on the server, which is something I- which I can’t prevent obviously but it’s not also something I’d like to contribute to. The whole point is I don't want to contribute to violence and you know, kill people I guess. I dunno” 

How far princezam has come. It was never about actual pacifism… except now it is. He truly is a pacifist now. He used to be a bad pacifist and now he’s just a pacifist for real. How interesting. 

19:00 “That’s just the spite and hatred in my heart. I’m full of hatred recently, that’s something i’ve noticed as well. Definitely something i’ve noticed” 

44:00 “I feel like nothing accomplishes anything. I feel like anything I would do would just make things worse. I dunno. Maybe that’s just me though. Maybe that's just me and the way I feel. I dunno” 

“I just want to win. You know? But how do I go about that even? There’s nothing to win against."

~1:27:00 “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind” “interesting phrase considering the circumstance I’m in. [...] yea i mean violence is good to those who love it. I’m just unfortunately not one of those people. At least at the moment. [pause] Well I wouldn't say at the moment actually. I would say I’m not one of those people. For sure. Used to be. Not anymore.” 

1:53:00  “when i think of goals, the first thing that comes to mind is like, laying in a field of flowers. That’s what I want to do. That’s what I want to do. I dunno”

9/11/24

~40:00 “it makes me question what my path is, cause i’m not, i’m not i’m not i’m not  i’m not a killer or anything at least i don't want to kill anyone, i don't want to be doing that. Soo where does that leave me?  What am I gonna do, what am I princezam gonna do.” 

[crxzytogether]

Lol I wanna address this even tho nobody asked because I’m mad. Like ship whoever you want as yk this person said but leave it out of our tag-💀 my problems more with the fact that they tagged byler for this post than what they said but yk since they tagged us might as well respond.

Firstly, “ideas planted by your community”? Huh? Girl what- you mean our evidence? You mean our analysis and perceptions and ability to interpret what we’re watching beyond surface level? And honestly after season 4 even surface level melodramas not looking too good- Secondly, what harsh truths were brought up? The lies? Your perception of montauk? which idk sounds a lot like mike and wills relationship to me but to each their own… “they’ve been together since pretty much day one”, “they have a deep connection”, “four seasons of character development”?? Do I even need to explain? Who’s been together since day one? Right mike and will, in the beginning of episode 1 before any of the upside down shit even happens we’re shown that their relationship is different from their relationship with the other party members. A fact that’s proven time and time again throughout season 1 where we see how much more Mike is affected by Will’s disappearance(not tryna negate everybody else’s feelings or reactions but it’s clear that we’re supposed to notice Mike cares slightly more or in a different way). As for the deep connections? Season 2 shed scene ring a bell, the first one of Mike’s monologue that’s an attempt to help someone he cares about that actually works and is completely honest, deep connection boom. And that connections emphasized again in s4 with Will being able to encourage Mike and make him feel better and we already know why it’s special on Will’s side and their whole plot-line that season. Next, “four seasons of character development” im sorry what?, season 1 and season 3 maybe are the only seasons I’d consider they had that meanwhile season 4 I’d say they had character regression because tell me how Mike goes from being able to comfort El about her feeling like she’s a monster but then does a 180 not only unable to comfort her but also make her feel worse-(I’m talking about she didn’t look fine in case you didn’t catch that). Back to s1/s3, s1 where they were friends for the most part is the healthiest their relationship has ever been the entire show- like😭😭it literally just goes downhill from there. Season 2/season 3 their codependency I’m- and season 4 El feeling like she has to lie to Mike about her life and Mike unable to comfort her and also hiding his own interests from her. Like sure the bullying thing I get why she’d hide that maybe not really but El lies about so many things😭😭 she feels like she has to lie to keep up the relationship. THAT 👏 IS 👏 NOT 👏 HEALTHY 👏. Like maybe after they’ve both grown separately I’d consider it but as of now? No sir. Also let me remind you how El confronted Angela and asked her to help El keep up the pretence- SHE STILL DIDN’T FEEL SAFE OR COMFORTABLE ENOUGH TELL MIKE THE TRUTH. That’s not healthy for either of them. My byler agenda aside I still don’t think Mike and El should be together. Lastly, “the fact that Mileven IS endgame”, again I’m sorry what? Have you watched season 5? Have you read the scripts or been on set or talked to anybody working on st5 or work on st5 yourself? No? So then how is that a fact- it’s a prediction, an assumption but it’s not a fact. If after season 5 comes out and it did end up becoming true then you could use that phrase but as of now when you have no idea how season 5 is gonna go you can’t call that a fact. Also rip how are you so confident when Mike and Will are literally attached at the hip so far from what we have seen besides the rooftop convo and if that is enough to convince you then yikes- bc we’ve got like 10 of those to convince us so good luck watching season 5 and have a good day ig

[elarialuthien]

Dead drunk - Leon Kennedy x Reader

Warning: Alcohol is harmful to your health! ***

You rolled your eyes and wrapped your robe tighter, sleepily entering the corridor, yawning and looking displeased at the damn dead drunk guy who was trying to take off the shoe from his left foot. "Leon," you said, sighing heavily. "Where have you been? Do you know what time it is?"

He stumbled and walked towards you, leaning against the wall for support as he tried to remove his other shoe. "I got lost on the way home, baby," he muttered, trying to smile but failing. "Sorry I'm late."

His words were a little slurred and he swayed slightly where he stood. "Fuck," you cursed. "You're dead drunk. This is the third time this week."

He chuckled drunkenly as he pulled himself up again. "Well, I had a rough day," he replied, winking at you, although you couldn’t see it due to his position. " And besides... don’t you miss me when I’m gone?"

He tried to lean closer to you and hug you, but stumbled instead.

You sighed heavily and crossed your arms over your chest, watching him stumble around like an idiot. "No, I don't miss you when you're gone. I just need someone sober enough to talk to."

Your voice was annoyed.

He pouted, looking down at his feet before slowly looking up at her. "Oh, come on, Y\N... I'm sorry, okay?" He took a step towards you, reaching out to touch your hand gently. "Let me make amends..." His words trailed off as he leaned in, trying to capture your lips with his in a sloppy, drunken kiss.

You winced and took a step back, not responding to the kiss, Leon smelled of fumes and you, having grown up in a dysfunctional family where your parents drank like hell, you hated drunk people so damn much, but at the same time you loved Leon so damn much that I could forgive him, so to speak, for his " little trick." But as they say, patience can run out.

Feeling rejected, he snorted quietly before stumbling back. "Damn it..." he muttered under his breath. " I really screwed up this time, didn’t I?"

Even though Leon was drunk, he knew exactly how bad things were between the two of you right now.

" Damn strong," you said dryly and, going into the bedroom, you finally shouted: " Today you’re sleeping on the sofa!"

He looked after you, and his heart sank when he realized that you were serious. "Damn... I’m full of shit," he said quietly under his breath. "Okay, okay, then I'll sleep on the couch."

Even though he was drunk, he knew better than to argue with you, especially when you were so upset.

5 minutes later you heard the sound of Leon's footsteps approaching the room and then the creaking of the sofa bed in the living room. You pulled the blanket up to your chin, waiting for him to get settled before turning off the lights and closing your eyes, hoping that tomorrow would be a better day...

Sitting down on the uncomfortable sofa bed, Leon let out a long sigh. "Damn..." he muttered quietly under his breath again. " I wish I wasn’t such an asshole sometimes."

With these words hanging heavily in the silence of their apartment, Leon closed his eyes and fell asleep.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

In the morning you woke up from the smell of coffee and opened your sleepy eyes, yawned, got out of bed and washed your face in the bathroom, then went to the kitchen where Leon stood at the stove, dressed in home clothes, preparing pancakes, when he saw you, he smiled awkwardly. It was his rare day off and he decided to apologize in this way. You leaned against the doorway and looked at the awkwardly smiling guy, guilt clearly visible in his eyes.

Leon quickly turned away from the stove and grabbed two plates filled with freshly baked pancakes. " Uh, good morning," he greeted awkwardly, his voice still hoarse from sleep. "Hopefully this will help me make up for last night?"

He placed one plate in front of you before sitting down across from you at the table. "Thank you, Leon. They look delicious," you said sincerely, picking up your fork and taking a bite. The taste was amazing, as always. "But we need to talk about last night," you added, putting your fork down and meeting his gaze. "Drinking too much is no longer funny. It's starting to hurt us."

Leon nodded, avoiding eye contact as he picked at his food. " I know, Y\N. And I'm really sorry that things got so bad. I promise I will try to keep everything under control. " He looked at you with a sincere expression on his face. " I don’t want to lose you over something stupid like drinking."

" I hope so," you said with a sigh. "Leon, I grew up in a family of alcoholics, I know what alcohol does to people, and it’s terrible. I don’t want you to..." you hesitated. " He was like my father," you whispered quietly, remembering how your father, when he was drunk, beat you until you lost consciousness.

Leon reached across the table to take your hand in his, squeezing it gently. "Hey, I would never do anything like that to you or anyone. I swear." His voice was quiet but determined. "What happened to you as a child was horrible, and I hate that you had to go through that. But I’m not your father, Y/N. I love you too much to ever lay a hand on you." He lifted her hand to kiss your knuckles softly. "I’ll be better, I promise. For both of us."

" I believe you," you whispered, squeezing his hand back. " I know you’re not him, Leon. You’re nothing like him." You smiled softly at him, feeling the tension ease from your shoulders. " Thank you for making breakfast. It means a lot to me.”

Leon smiled warmly at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling. " Anytime, beautiful. You deserve to be spoiled." He winked playfully before grabbing his pancakes again. " So, what are your plans for today? Maybe we can go hiking or something?" Leon’s suggestion was met with a thoughtful pause as you considered it.

" Actually, that sounds perfect," you said with a genuine smile. " The fresh air and exercise will do us both good after yesterday." You finished eating, then stood up to clear away the dishes.

Giving your boyfriend a quick kiss on the cheek, you disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Leon to clean the kitchen.

[aquaticlime]

MET GALA THEMES

I tried to come up with good names for these but some were just too hard. Go ahead and use any of these for your DR, I’d love to see what you do with these ideas as well. I’ll probably make another post detailing which of these I’ve scripted into my Dr to attend and what I wear so stay tuned.

The Lost City of Atlantis

I think this would be so cool! Some people would draw from the Disney movie I’m sure, but imagine everyone’s interpretation of the classic myth.

The Animal Kingdom

A Night of Beastly Beauty. For this I would like to see good use of ethically sourced furs and animal prints. Someone’s gotta be a dinosaur, like please pick unique animals. However if I see someone like Jared Leto dressed in a mascot or furry costume I’m done.

The Dark Side of the Grimm

A Night of Grim Fairy-Tale Villains in Couture. Time for the villains of fairytales to shine. I hope some people would dress as the hero’s if they were turned evil.

The Seven Deadly Sins

This one is the perfect amount of specificity while still being broad enough to let peoples creativity shine through. Inevitably some men are still going to come in a plain black suit but what can you do.

A Night at the Museum

A Timeless Journey Through Fashion and Art. How cool would it be if someone came inspired by Starry night or Monets garden. So many art pieces to choose. There are other types of museums and art to like sculptures or someone could dress like a wax figure. Personally I would like to see the Winged Victory or the Caryatid statues.

Jungle Fever

Another one that deals with animals a bit. Again people better get creative and pick some unique animals. I wanna see a someone (bonus points if it’s a woman) do a Tarzan inspired look though.

Desert Oasis

I don’t know with this one. I guess someone could do an Aladdin look, we already had Tyla do her sands of time dress so I don’t know what else you could do for this one.

Down the Rabbit Hole

A Wonderland Fantasy of Fashion. I just love Alice in wonderland. I would love to see everyone’s outfits. There is so much you could do with this! Zendaya and Lady Gaga would have to be in attendance at this one.

The Literary-Inspired Gala

From Pages to Runway. Another good broad one. It woukd be cool to see everyone’s favorite books, some fairytales some sci fi and maybe even Harry Potter. I could see someone doing a literal book outfit too.

The Neon Nights

Nobody uses bright fun colors anymore, imagine all the black lights and fun glow in the dark paint you could use. Maybe the carpet would be from a bowling alley or mini golf course.

A Carnival of Curiosities

How cool would a carnival or circus Met Gala be!? This is another good one to bring out peoples creativity. Some fun clown inspired looks and the boring people can be a ring leader.

Space Travelers

Galactic Fashion! None of these looks are going to make sense. I have a feeling Doja Cat would be either pretty good for this or just paint herself snot green.

The Wild West

A Night of Cowgirl Chic and Frontier Flair. Pretty self explanatory and quite broad. Someone’s coming as a cactus for sure, and some couple is gonna do Bonnie and Clyde.

The Great Gatsby

Roaring Twenties themed or it could be based off the book as well. People would have to get pretty creative with this one in order to stand out. Give me a man in a flapper inspired outfit.

The Magic of Hollywood

A Tribute to Cinematic Glitz and Glam! Simple enough, you could take inspiration from directors or film companies. Imagine someone going a the Twentieth Century Fox logo or a red carpet.

Creature Feature

Classic Horror film themed! I’m talking Creature from the Black Lagoon, Frankenstein, Dracula, and Nosferatu. I would go as one of the monsters and have my date be the female protagonist of the story.

Terror Awakens

This one is horror themed as well but much broader than classic horror films. You could do books, any movies or simple scary concepts. Please don’t do anything about modern day murderers, I just don’t think that’s tasteful.

˗ˏˋReturn to masterlist ��� main masterlist´ˎ˗

[theswedishpajas]

The man truly can’t take a genuine compliment 🙄

[dykedvonte]

If Ulysses has a million haters, then I'm one of them. If Ulysses has one hater, then I'm THAT ONE. If Ulysses has no haters, that means I'm dead. If the world is with Ulysses than I’m against the world.

[grocerystoreanxiety]

ah well fuck it, going above my calories today for more whiskey hehe (dumb)

[ahalliance]

i need to do exposure therapy with purgatory i think the fandom experience at the time instilled the unpleasant dread and despair i still feel whenever i think about the event