#literally everything is ready to send off. everything is written

[spellmage]

i just... want to send off my uni application... but i can't... because my academic referee hasn't replied to my email yet... i should be allowed to maim and kill

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for dating Johnny Lawrence

Johnny Lawrence x reader

warnings: towards the end theres degenerate!johnny mentions (the WORST most funny way to put it but him being an alcoholic and such) (that is NOT funny dont be an alcoholic)

a/n: i been looking at young william zabka edits for an hour brain go brrr. also yes i already have hcs for this so these are NOT part 2 they are a different au after the all valley 🙏. this has been the MOST INSPIRING fic i have written in months im literally in love with him

prompt:

after the all-valley and cobra kai, johnny felt like he’d lost everything

then he found you

you had just barely known each other, growing up in the same vicinity but never really saying a word to each other

until one day at encino oaks, johnny spotted you sunbathing on an unusually warm day and took a chance

“y/n, right?” -johnny, sitting on the pool chair next to you

“that’s right” -you, tilting your sunglasses down

“i’m johnny. we, uh, we go to west valley together”

“yeah, i’ve heard of you” -you

his stomach sank (he’s got a bad track record)

“yeah, that’s unfortunate.” -johnny, getting up to leave and pausing “would you be interested in jumping in the pool with me?”

you stared at him for a few seconds (cuz you could tell he wasn’t too confident) and got up, actually jumping in the pool in a full cannonball

his spirits were lifted and he jumped in right after you

“that was awesome!” -johnny

you two swam around splashing and annoying the older club members, but it was no matter

you ended up sitting on the pool ledge talking and getting to know each other

“oh, no, i don’t really keep up with local karate tournaments. i hadn’t heard” -you

“that’s perfect for me, then” -johnny

you gave him your number and said you’d see him at school monday

and that you did

“is that him? he’s cute! maybe he’ll start driving you to school. or you could get your license” -your mom, dropping you off

“mom!” -you “he does seem pretty sweet. i think he found me at the perfect time, too. got knocked down a peg or two from some karate tournament”

he brought you a little box of chocolates to give to you before class THAT VERY MONDAY (he was moving fast)

he was also very desperate for a prom date for senior prom but that was beside the point

you played a little hard to get

but johnny finally found a reason to fight again and he wanted to fight for you

“could i take you on a date this weekend? do you prefer something fancy like a nice restaurant or casual like golf n stuff or romantic like the beach?” -johnny

“why dont you just plan it and i’ll be ready. just tell me what i should wear” -you, kissing him on the cheek

he always felt so cool and confident but you had him flustered and about to buckle at the knees

he decided to keep it casual for now because you seemed so “go with the flow” and there were so many things to do, so many distractions to keep him from doing something stupid

and of course he picked you up because you still didn’t have your license yes

“come on, i’ll teach you how to drive” -johnny

“noooo thank you, i am not driving your car” -you

you drove it one block and he understood why you didn’t have your license

johnny paid for all your tokens and you guys had a blast competing in games and ended up with a pretty decent pile of tickets

“ooh, competitive!” -you

“i have no idea what you’re talking about” -johnny

daniel was actually at golf n stuff that night with ali but johnny didn’t even care he was so infatuated with you

he bought you some nachos for a snack, which he snuck a few bites in shamelessly

you still haven’t kissed at this point but he was waiting for the perfect moment

you made sure to touch his arms and keep close and flirt, sending all the right signals

he seemed like such a go-getter, you were getting impatient

and finally, he took you to the ferris wheel and made it all cliche and special wrapping his arm around your shoulders and waiting until you two were at the top of the wheel to place a hand on your cheek and kiss you gently

(gentle went away fast you had been waiting for this for a whole WEEK and thats a lifetime for a teenager)

he was giddy for the rest of the night and all he’d gotten was a quick makeout session

he ended up pooling all your tickets together for a stuffed animal of your choice

it couldn’t have been a better first date honestly

and soon enough he was driving you to school, walking you to class, bringing you little gifts, getting you into trouble, listening to music with you, sneaking out with you, just doing everything with and for you

and the promposal was very cute classic (a sign and some flowers, he wasn’t all too creative)

and when prom came around, you two stood out! you both looked stunning and styling, everyoneeee was jealous

“johnny looks happy” -daniel

“poor y/n’s just gonna get their heart broken” -ali

prom court?? no actually lol but keep dreaming

“you’re the prom [king/queen] in my heart” -johnny

“if you hand me a plastic crown im gonna hit you” -you

johnny took it out anyway and you both started cackling bc it was so silly

he just wanted you to feel special (you had no part in prom court at all actually there was no disappointment he was just being a punk)

“sooo, prom night..?” -johnny

“what about it” -you

“oh, nothing…”

“just drive, punk. my parents aren’t home”

a miracle he didn’t get a speeding ticket

soon enough you two had graduated and gone off to college together

although johnny had a hard time focusing on what really mattered

you two definitely partied together and he was always so protective and caring, making sure no one made a pass at you or made you uncomfortable (and if they did he’d try to fight them and you’d drag him away)

some of those nights were memorable, but he started slipping and you kept trying to keep him on the right path

he had a few wakeup calls

and proposed to you

and you accepted

and for a while, he did things right for you

but in the end, he just couldn’t grow up and you broke it off

all the fighting and drinking and partying and bailing him out of jail finally became too much and you returned the ring

“i wish it were different johnny. i really do. i thought you were the one. but i cant be with you if you’re not gonna grow up. i love you, and im sorry, but im done” -you

he was a WRECK after that he spiraled completely and cried for you for months

and he tried to get you back. he tried to straighten up and fly right but he always fell back into the same problems, and his friends were just as dumb as he was

you’d get a drunken call now and then of johnny rambling how sorry he was and how he still loves you and he wanted to change and begging you to take him back

you went on one last date with him and saw a very grim future

and realized you didn’t want to stick around to fix him

“do you still have the stuffed animal from our first date?” -johnny

“i do” -you

“promise me you’ll keep it forever” -johnny

“i promise”

his parents were so incredibly disappointed in him and that he “lost a good one”

and he never stopped beating himself up over it.

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @an4aaa // @summersimmerus // @sapphireplums // @ravenhood2792 // @elemental-of-magic // @mauve-galaxy-427 //

[lelengerine]

pairing. chenle x reader

synopsis. the one where chenle wishes he was the reason you’d stay up till three, that he was more than just someone you’d walk by

genre. friends to ?? au (this is very much an open ending), one sided pining, mentions of being intoxicated (just a teensy bit… pls drink responsibly), chenle sits in his thoughts a lot in this, lmk if there’s anything that was missed!

wc. 0.8k words

notes. here's a little something while i write for renjun hehe anw! i love lele's cover for drunk texts by henry moodie like it literally lives in my mind rent free all year round… and to that, collectively we all say thank u lee mujin service 😁😁

m.list

november 5th.

it’s a chilly night. the kind where the air feels electric, and everything is heightened—the sky, the city lights, and the tension sitting heavily between you and chenle.

you’d been walking home together, like you always did after your weekly meetups with friends. the laughter from earlier had faded into a comfortable silence, but there was something about tonight, something in the way the silence stretched, the cool air wrapping around you both, that made chenle’s heart race for reasons he couldn’t name.

he snuck a glance at you, your eyes fixed on the stars, a soft smile playing on your lips. it was then he almost said it—those three words that bore the weight of all his feelings—almost.

the words were right there, tauntingly hanging on the tip of his tongue, heavy and ready to fall out, but then you began to laugh at something in the distance—a couple setting off fireworks, sparks shooting into the sky—and the moment slipped away before he could even get hold of it.

chenle swallowed the words and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. forget it, he thought, heart sinking further with every second that passed. he wasn’t ready to risk everything. not yet.

“did you see that?” you asked, still staring above, and he can see the colorful bursts in the sky start to dance in your eyes.

a smile instinctively formed on his lips, though his chest ached with everything he couldn’t find the courage to say. “yeah,” he murmured, his voice softer than usual. “breathtaking.”

you assumed he was talking about the fireworks and flashed him a bright grin of agreement, but he was never talking about the fleeting lights in the sky to begin with. 

ʚɞ

april 7th.

five months later, and nothing has changed.

if anything, it’s only gotten worse—this tight feeling in his chest whenever you’re around, the way he finds himself thinking about you at odd hours of the night, replaying every moment in his head. the problem is, you have no idea. you treat him the same as always—like your best friend. like nothing’s different.

and that’s the hardest part.

chenle taps his phone screen again, staring at the half-written text he’s been drafting under your contact for what felt like hours. he’s had a couple drinks earlier in the night with his friends, just enough to loosen the tight grip on his inhibitions, just enough to make him feel bold enough to actually type his feelings out—as incoherent as they were.

his finger hovers over the send button. he knows he should delete it, he knows he’s playing a dangerous game. one wrong move and he could ruin everything—what you have, the friendship that meant more to him than anything else, but the thought to act impulsively for once lingers in his system more than it should.

what if you felt the same way? what if you’ve been waiting for him to say something all this time, too?

chenle shakes his head, cursing under his breath as he deletes the message. he’s not brave enough. not tonight. instead, he flops back on his bed with a faint grunt, phone still in his grip, wondering if you’re thinking about him right now; wondering if you were wide awake, just like him, waiting for a message that will never come despite any plea.

ʚɞ

the days stretch on, and he sees you as often as ever—movie nights, study sessions, spontaneous coffee runs. it wasn’t like he could have avoided you anyways. you were always together, and yet there’s always a gap between you, a line neither of you is willing to cross.

sometimes, when he catches you laughing at one of his dumb jokes or notices the way you glance at him when you think he’s not looking, he wonders if there’s something there. something more than friendship, something you’re both too afraid to say out loud.

but then, just as quickly, the moment fades, and the fear creeps back in.

what if i tell you the truth? what will i lose?

and soon enough, he finds himself under the serene glow of the moon yet again, the clock in his room striking midnight.

chenle stares at his phone, the same familiar ache settling in his chest like an unwelcome guest. his thumb hovers over your name in his contacts. he can’t help but wonder how things would be different if he had confessed all those months ago when he first realized his silly crush, if he hadn’t been so scared of what you might say—or worse, what you wouldn’t say.

the what-ifs were beginning to drive him crazy, and in a moment of reckless frustration, chenle starts typing, not bothering to overthink it this time. he hits send before he can regret it, leaving the consequences for his future self to handle in his stead. his heart pounds in his chest, and the minutes tick by in agonizing silence.

what if i ruined everything?

but then, his phone faintly buzzes, and a message flashes on the screen—one from you. he hesitates before opening it, stomach twisting like a bundle of nerves.

i was waiting for you to say something.

the breath he didn’t realize he was holding escapes in a rush. it wasn’t exactly a confession, not yet, but it’s enough. enough to give him hope.

and maybe—just maybe—he’s not the only one who’s been waiting.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

begging for a tmnt mm Raph x reader who plays hockey…

he just likes watching them play because how aggressive they can be like him with any sport. He’s literally yelling and cheering for them— before they were together.

he just randomly confessed to the reader, like a slip up when they grabbed water for a break. It would be so cute.

“Did you see me out there?! I was pushing her and got a goal!”

“I love you.”

“what.”

“what.”

Hockey Game (Fluff)

MM!Raphael x reader

A/N: I know absolutely nothing about hockey, but I tried. It's kinda short, but hope you’ll enjoy❤️

Warning: None❤️

And here Raph sat again, on a seat behind the glass, watching as you glided over the ice, pushing the puck back and forth with your hockey stick, the fire burning in your eyes, as you pushed your opponents away with a hard shoulder. A danger on ice. It was a side of you Raph rarely got to see outside the ice ring, only ever coming out when you got competitive. It was a wonder to watch you like that, almost becoming more aggressive than him. His brothers still won’t believe him when he told them about it. No way that you, their dear sweet friend, could become more aggressive and competitive than Raphael. Something in Raph was almost happy that they couldn’t believe it. Because then they wouldn’t have seen what he had.

For quite some time, Raph had been going to watch you at your hockey games. Either watching you practice, pretending to get homework done while he waited, while in actuality his eyes were kept on you and everything you, or coming to watch your big games, yelling friendly support from the sidelines. And whenever you would look at him, taking your eyes away from the game for just a few seconds, your eyes meeting his, he felt the butterflies erupt in his stomach, heat spreading all over his body. Oh, Raph was down bad for you. His first crush, and at this rate, probably the only woman he would ever love.

You and your opponent was pushing one another, fighting to stay with the puck. You took your chance, pushing your opponent out of the way, before doing quick work with the puck, before anybody could get it from you. You swung your hockey stick, sending the puck flying over the eyes, directly through the crowd of the opposite team in a flash, hitting the back of the net, scoring the last goal of the evening. You, your team, Raph and half of the stands erupted in cheer, as the arena filled with the buzzing sound, letting you all know the game was over. Your team had won.

After you and your teammates had hugged each other, almost tumbling over as you jumped on each other with bright smiles and laughter, you made your way over to Raph where he sat, just by the entrance to the ring. He always sat there. Ready to be the first person you would talk to when you got off the ice. And so, as routine dictated, you sprung through the entrance, quickly making your way over to Raph, still huffing and puffing for air, as adrenaline flowed through your veins, smiling brightly at Raph, who stood frozen at the sight of you. Your bright smile, your happy eyes, the red flush of your cheeks, and a few hairs sticking to your sweaty forehead.

Raph, still struck by the sight of you, didn’t have time to react before you threw your arms around him, pulling him in for a tight hug, making Raph’s heart beat so fast, he feared it would jump out of his chest.

“Did you see me out there?!”, you asked, your eyes gleaming as you pulled back to look at him. “I was pushing her and got a goal!”

“I love you”.

Raph felt himself go cold the moment the words left his mouth, just as your smile fell, confusion written all over your face.

"What?”

"What?”

You and Raph stared at each other for a moment. Fear started growing in Raph’s chest, his hands getting sweaty, wondering if this was it. Had he fucked up? Has he just lost his best friend? Just because he couldn’t control his own damn mouth?

But then, you threw your head back, letting out a heartfelt laughter, which confused Raph for a moment.

“You’re so funny, Raph”, you laughed, giving his shoulder a friendly punch. “You almost got me there”.

“Haha, yeah…”, Raph said, rolling his shoulders back, trying to act proud of himself. “Have to keep you on your toes”.

“And you most certainly do”, you smiled. “Anyway, me and the rest of the team are celebrating the victory tonight. Wanna come along?”

“Of course”, Raph smiled, feeling his heart beat fast once again. “Anything for you, (Y/N)”.

[ladysomething]

The amount of lestappen content we've gotten lately is amazing!

I've reread wygig like 4 times now I love it so much

Any chance of another snippet before Wednesday????

are you ... not sick of wygig? I did not realise it had that level of re-readability. but I'm delighted that it does!!

probably no more snippets .... I think ...

oh actually!!!

I started dicking around with a random concept after seeing @hotmandrivefast's recent fan art of lestappen kissing during Max's stream, so you can have everything I've written from that so far.

ridiculous vibes as is becoming my brand when I'm not writing wygig lol.

The problem, Charles thinks, is that he and Max have been together too long. 

A secondary, equally alarming problem, is that Charles has also clearly let Max have too much sex with him. The novelty has worn off. 

He’s boring. 

And how exactly has Charles come to these conclusions? 

Because he is laid out on the bed of their hotel room, shirtless, and Max is just . . . ignoring him. For his games. 

His computer is propped up on the bed, and he’s sitting on the floor, frantically poking at his controller and shouting in dismay. 

Charles frowns at him. 

Maybe he needs to break up with Max, just for like five minutes, so that Max appreciates him more. It’s slightly drastic, maybe, but there is literally nothing wrong with the way Charles looks. Actually, he gets endless compliments on his body and face. 

He is so fuckable. 

He’s so fuckable it’s like a selling point. 

So why is staring at his loser boyfriend, pointedly not being fucked right now? 

It’s atrocious. It’s terrible. It’s a state of affairs that Charles finds, frankly, unacceptable. 

He gets up on his knees, crawling over to kneel behind Max’s computer, and then pokes his lip out into a pout. 

Max, like, barely glances up at him, gaze lingering on his bare chest for only a few seconds instead of the usual ten, and then he looks back down to his game, groaning loudly. 

“Yeah, I know,” he grunts into his microphone. “Sorry—got distracted for a second. Yeah, I know.” 

Charles frowns, which quickly turns into a pout again. He taps the top of Max’s laptop pointedly, and mouths, “Max.” 

Max flicks his eyes up to him again, then says, “Guys, once second.” 

He lifts his hands to the headset, presses whatever buttons he needs to press, then pushes the mic away from his mouth. 

“Everything okay?” he asks, not anywhere near concernedly enough for Charles. 

Charles blinks, thrown off by Max not immediately devouring him. 

“I want to cum,” he announces, deciding that a no nonsense approach will work best. 

Max stares at him, clearly perplexed, and then says, “Okay?” 

Charles huffs. There is something seriously wrong here. Maybe he should revisit the idea of breaking up with Max for a few minutes. 

“So?” Charles asks pointedly. 

“So . . . what? You don’t need my permission.” 

Max is an idiot. No, maybe Charles is an idiot, for falling in love with an idiot. 

He retreats to the bathroom to lick his wounds and stroke his humbled ego, but he doesn’t cum. 

He has way more pride than that. 

The next problem Charles encounters is that now he’s come to see the original problem, he sees it everywhere. 

He texts Max to ask him on a date on Wednesday, and Max says he’s busy, sends a love heart emoji, and then an hour later Charles gets a notification saying that a Redline stream has started. So what if he always streams on a Wednesday? Surely one time he could skip it. 

He surprises Max by coming around, bringing Max’s favourite take out for lunch and a brand new toy for the cats to keep them distracted while they have sex, but Max says he can’t hang out that day because he’s in the middle of a stream. So what if the stream is for charity? Charles is still banished to the lounge to eat and play with the cats alone. 

He shows up for their breakfast date, ready to burn the eggs and bake a doughy croissant, but Max answers the door with an apologetic look saying that he’s got to spend a few hours in the sim. And so what if the RB20 sucks and he’s trying to hold onto his Championship lead? 

Charles has needs, goddammit. Vigorous needs that involve him regularly drooling into a pillow and being fucked so good he can’t see, or fucking Max until he cries and begs to be allowed to cum. He doesn’t really care which way it goes, as long as someone’s dick is up someone’s ass. 

And they have a healthy sex life. They have a great sex life, based on the way their friends judge them for being unable to keep their hands off each other, or the times they’ve been walked in on, or the way Max had to put a firm ban on sex during race weekends when Charles had been uncomfortable in the car one too many times. 

He just wants more. He wants so much more, all the time, he wants to sleep with Max’s dick inside him and he wants to have dinner while Max is kneeling and slowly sucking his cock, he wants to have a plug left in his ass so he’s ready for Max at any time and he wants to fill Max with so much cum it leaks out of him. 

He’s ravenous, hungry, a black hole of want, and he knows none of that is reasonable but he wants it anyway. 

Begrudgingly, he settles for sex when they can manage it, but right now they could manage it a whole lot more.

[buddiebeginz]

Saw this ridiculous thread on twitter that really deserves to be taken apart so lets go:

First of all while it's obvious that Buck is attracted to T*mmy (and at this point likes him a lot considering they're now dating) in 7x04 the the main person who's attention he was trying to get was Eddie's. I did an entire breakdown of that ep btw for anyone who is still confused about what was really happening there.

------

1.

Buck goes to see Maddie after the basketball incidient and this is how the conversation goes

Maddie: You didn't mean to hurt him did you?

Buck: I don't know. I was pissed you know. Seeing him and T*mmy being such good friends after only two weeks. I felt left out and I guess I was trying to get his attention.

I know that you B/T shippers desperately want to see 7x04 as Buck sent the entire episode being super smitten over T*mmy but that is just not the story that show is telling. The entire conversation that Maddie and Buck are having in this scene prior to T*mmy even being mentioned is about Eddie. Buck and Maddie are talking about Eddie's injury and how Buck thinks Eddie won't want to talk to him after what he did. The focus is on Eddie. Also it doesn't make any logical sense for Buck to be so upset and emotionally invested over some guy he barely knows. He's upset because he thinks Eddie his best friend can so easily replace him in his life.

------

2.

You're defending T*mmy because you say he left the date not wanting to pressure Buck...yet he almost outed him in front of Eddie (someone T*mmy knows is important to Buck). By the time they were on their first date T*mmy already knew how new all of this was for Buck and how nervous he was, I mean the man was talking about how he was an ally ffs while he was on a date with a guy. And while Buck's comment about finding some hot chicks was embarrassing and I get T*mmy not liking it he should have had a little more understanding given where Buck is in his journey. Instead he made it worse by making that crass closet comment.

It's also just plain rude to go on a date with someone and then ditch them in the middle without making sure they have a way home and without any real explanation (I'm not talking about more extreme circumstances like your date just being an ahole btw). Sure T*mmy told Buck he didn't think he was ready but that was really all he said. Buck was likely left feeling like he was being punished for having a moment where he acted out of fear. T*mmy could have shared an Uber with Buck and talked to him on the way home and they could have seen if they wanted things to continue. But it was like at the first sign of Buck needing more support he bailed.

------

3.

My personal feeling on the first kiss is that T*mmy really should have given something of an indication of his intentions before he kissed Buck.

Speaking as someone who is bi if I was into another woman and they were giving off the kind of vibes Buck was I wouldn't just jump in there and kiss them. I know they try to make everything more sexy for tv and it's the oldest trope in the book to have the hot guy grab the main's face and lay one on them but given all of the signals Buck was sending out T*mmy really should have gotten more confirmation beforehand.

I'm not accusing T*mmy of anything and clearly Buck liked the kiss and it was also clear in that loft scene he was attracted to T*mmy. Still the vibes he was giving off were also really nervous an unsure and he talked about Eddie 90% of the time literally moments before the kiss. Why jump in an kiss someone who seems that nervous and probably is into someone else? I don't know it's just issues I have with that scene.

----

4.

When it comes to a lot of the discourse I see around between Buddie shippers and B/T shippers I feel like a major difference is in how we perceive the show. I feel like a lot of B/T shippers mostly just take the show at face value. If something is written a certain way and presented that way to you on the screen you take that as exactly what the story is saying but you're missing the more subtle messages in the writing.

Like the whole scene with Buck, T*mmy, and Eddie in the karaoke bar had a lot going on beyond just what the dialogue was saying and it was likely missed by those who weren't paying attention.

Yeah T*mmy was on call and yeah that could be a reason why he didn't dress up. Although as many have pointed out there's plenty of things he could have worn that would have made it easy for him to quickly change and get to work and still put an ounce of effort into something that was clearly important to Buck.

But the not dressing up wasn't even the biggest issue it was that when Buck seemed hurt by the fact that T*mmy didn't care enough to dress up T*mmy was just like it's not that big of deal get over it (in the demeanor with which he responded). Obviously it was just a silly bachelor party one Chim didn't even show up to and no one else even dressed up for it (besides Eddie) but for me it's another red flag showing that T*mmy doesn't listen to Buck and doesn't have his back like a (potential) partner should.

Also you can defend T*mmy all you want but very deliberate choices were made with this Buddie and T*mmy scene. They chose to have Eddie arrive first and call a lot of attention to what he was wearing. Right before they had T*mmy come in and have that whole convo about his lack of costume to Buck.

Multiple times in the episode they pointed out that Buddie were wearing a couples costume and that Eddie is the one who picked it out. Not only were they matching in the bachelor party outfits but if you look at their outfits in the later scenes while looking for Chim they're coordinated like spouses there too.

They chose to have Eddie be the one to stay with Buck when everyone else left. They chose to have Buddie partying alone when they could have easily had T*mmy there. Especially when you consider this is a much shorter season every scene and every ep means even more than it would in a normal season. If they were trying to build B/T and get the audience to warm to them showing them partying even showing B/T partying with Eddie would have been a great time to do that instead they only focused on Buddie.

-------

5.

I'm happy for B/T shippers that you got your kissing scene at the end but here's what I saw. In a very overstuffed episode they chose to have a ton of Buddie stuff including having Buck and Eddie show up together multiple times while everyone was out looking for Chimney. Meanwhile B/T got one small scene (which included Eddie) in the beginning and one kiss at the end away from everyone else (that immediately cut to Eddie and Chris). The kiss didn't even feel like it's main purpose was to further develop the B/T relationship, it felt like it happened more to serve Buck's bi storyline so he could come out to everyone.

Also others have pointed this out but just because B/T have physical chemistry doesn't mean they have romantic chemistry. They seem like very different people. Too different in my opinion. In what little scenes of conversation they've actually had I just see two people who won't be compatible long term.

Juxtapose that with Eddie and Buck and just how much alike they are while at the same time being so uniquely themselves. How they're able to call each other out when they need to like when Eddie pointed out how it was maybe not the greatest idea for Buck to come out at his sister's wedding.

You can dislike Buddie and ship B/T all you want but you can't deny how all Buck and Eddie have to do is stand near each other and they exude chemistry and compatibility. People who don't even watch the show assume they're together and there's not even one scene of them kissing. Yet the main reason people ship B/T is because they're two hot guys who've kissed twice. There is no other real point of substance there. Now tell me again which fandom is guilty of fetishization here?

----

6.

You can call us the delusional ones all you want but EVERYTHING is screaming in your face that T*mmy isn't going to last forever. I don't even care if he comes back for season 8. T*mmy and B/T have a giant ticking clock over them and sooner or later their time will be up. There is no way Tim, the writers, ABC, Ryan, Oliver, etc would pass on the phenomenon that Buddie will be once it goes canon. The show already gets a ton of attention just from talking about the possibility of them going canon. Every single article where they even mention Buddie gets attention.

It's hilarious to me that you say the actors and showrunners are what rooting for B/T? In all the the interviews they talk about Buddie now. Tim literally was saying he cares about Buddie too in his response to a fan the other day. He literally said he included Buddie scene specifically for our fandom. Oliver is always posting and liking stuff related to his scenes with Ryan and Buddie. When Ryan gets to do interviews he gushes about Buddie and Oliver. Meanwhile B/T which is supposed to be the canon ship in this important queer storyline they're doing barely gets mentioned. Let me know when that same energy is being given to your ship.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

── PURSUIT // ONE

Series Synopsis: When your cousin goes missing right before he can challenge the Champion of your region, you must embark on a journey of your own in the hopes that one day, you might finally find him — wherever he may be.

Chapter Synopsis: You decide to embark on a journey. However, when you release the Pokémon that Shoei gave you before he left, you realize that you’ve met her once already.

Series Masterlist

Pairing(s): Nagi x Reader, Barou & Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6.3k

Content Warnings: pokémon au except i make the world emo and infest it with blue lockers, angst, character death, familial bonds, found families, male-female FRIENDSHIPS, a slow burn so insane the main love interest isn’t even in a solid amount of chapters, it’s my world i do what i want which means liberties are taken, near death experiences, this story is long bro literally everything happens in it the amount of arcs i have planned is insane, original characters because reader will NOT be the only girl i refuse to write in conditions like that, this is being written as if gen vi is the last generation to come out because i cba to catch up on new pokémon lore

A/N: okay so here’s the ACTUAL first chapter of pursuit (there is a prologue though so please read that if you haven’t yet) LSKDFJSD tbh i was expecting to get further in the story with this one than i actually did but oh well!! anyways the first of reader’s traveling companions will be introduced next chapter so feel free to guess who it is hehe (hint: it is a blue locker)

tag list (send an ask to be added): @sharkissm @koffeekat @noble-17

“You’re a trainer, aren’t you?” the police officer said. She was squinting at your license, which displayed your name and status. You furrowed your brow at her, wondering how that was even relevant, and then slowly, you nodded.

“Yes, I am. One Pokémon,” you said.

“What kind?” she said. The Gogoat by her desk sighed, getting up and spinning in a circle, adjusting its position so that it could lay its head on her lap instead of atop its hooves. You took your Pokéball off of your belt, setting it on the desk in front of you and shrugging.

“No idea. Shoei gave it to me before he left,” you said. “He told me it’s the destructive type, so I shouldn’t release it until I’m ready to go on a journey of my own.”

She wrinkled her nose, muttering something under her breath that you couldn’t quite make out but which probably referred to how you were taking advantage of the league’s goodwill, and then she handed your license back to you.

“You’ve been coming and asking us to look for your cousin, Shoei Barou, for the past couple of years,” she said. “And you get the same answer every time, correct?”

“Yes, but—” you began. She cut you off before you could continue, her expression severe, her fingers resting atop your Pokéball in impatience. They were painted, and the sparkling navy winked in the harshness of the overhead lights.

“Like we previously discussed, you’re a trainer,” she said. “Why don’t you begin your own journey and look for him yourself?”

You had considered the idea before. You had a Pokémon, though you knew not which sort it was, and thanks to Shoei, your registration was already completed, so when it came to legality, there was nothing stopping you.

“I don’t know,” you said. “I don’t know anything about training or battling or — or any of that. And we’re so far from Lumiose that it’s not like I can go to the professor for help.”

“You’re in secondary school, and all they do over there is study. You probably know much more than an average trainer, especially starting out,” she said.

“It’s all theory, though,” you said. “Nothing to do with actual fieldwork.”

She rolled the ball towards you. You caught it before it could fall off the edge of the desk, clipping it back to your belt with a murmured apology.

“Most trainers don’t even have that, but they manage, don’t they? This really is your best option, Miss L/N. Regardless, this station will no longer hear your complaints,” she said. “The so-called case of Shoei Barou isn’t one that we are interested in investigating. There are actualdisappearances and crimes that warrant our attention.”

“I see,” you said. “Well. Thank you for your time.”

The Gogoat huffed as it watched you leave, and you gave it one final backwards glance before the door to the small office shut and you were left standing by yourself in the lobby.

Coumarine City felt smaller nowadays. When you were younger, it had seemed so vast as to be unknowable, but now, you could count the steps between the Pokémon Center, the Gym, the school, and your house without batting an eye. You had changed, Shoei had left, and yet the old footpaths were still exactly the same. It felt incongruous, disingenuous even. You thought that there should’ve been some great marker of the shift, some expansion of the bustling place, but there never was.

“Mother, father,” you said that night when you were all eating dinner together. Your mother’s Espurr was watching you with her wide lavender eyes, though the glare of your father’s Heliolisk was enough to dissuade her from any thievery, and you sat across from your parents, your knife clinking against the edge of your plate when you set it down. “I’m thinking of becoming a trainer.”

“You already are a trainer,” your father said, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin.

“I mean, going on a journey and all. Like a proper trainer,” you said. The napkin fluttered out of your father’s grasp, and your mother’s eyes widened against her will. They, like Shoei’s parents, did not yet believe that his disappearance was out of the ordinary, but there it was a sort of wishful thinking. None of them considered it to be strange because they did not want it to be. Because that meant that he might be in the kind of trouble that they were powerless to rescue him from, and that powerlessness was something that they were not ready to accept.

“A journey?” your mother said, her voice breaking for a moment. You knew what she was saying, though she did not speak it aloud: that going on a journey was what took Shoei from you all, and that she could not survive it if you vanished, too. You understood. It was why you had delayed for so long — your parents, your dear parents, how could you leave them when you were so ill-prepared, when you did not even have a great desire to do so in the first place?

“Yes,” you said. Your Pokéball, which was still on your belt, warmed again, and you wondered if your Pokémon could understand what you were saying. Was she curious at the prospect of going on such an adventure? Did she long to battle? Or were you simply reading into things too much? The warmth could mean a million things, or it could mean nothing at all, and you’d be none the wiser. “The police department recommended it.”

“Why would they do that?” your father said.

“They told me it’s the only route I have left for finding Shoei,” you said.

“Y/N, you know—”

“No, I don’t!” you burst out before your mother could finish. She frowned at you, clearly taken aback, and you ducked your head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t agree. This isn’t just some run-of-the-mill training jaunt he’s on, and we all know that. If nobody else will do anything, then what choice do I have? He gave me a Pokémon. It’s about time I use her, anyways.”

This time, the ball grew hot enough to almost scald your skin through the fabric of your pants, and that was how you knew for a fact that it wasn’t a figment of your imagination. She was trying to say something, and you had an inkling that it was related to this half-baked plan of yours.

Your parents exchanged looks. Sometimes you thought that they must be able to communicate with their eyes alone, because neither of them said a word, yet within seconds, they were turning towards you in unison, both a peculiar mix of exasperated and concerned and, if you really read into it, proud.

“If you think it’s best, then we can’t exactly stop you,” your mother said.

“We haven’t been able to stop you since Shoei made you a trainer,” your father added, smiling ruefully. “That reckless cousin of yours. I’m sure he had good intentions with it, but he could’ve at least asked first!”

At this you could only chuckle, because all of you knew as well as each other that Shoei wasn’t really the type to ever ask for permission. Not once in his life had he ever done such a thing, and even imagining him doing so felt like you were going against his character.

“I’ll leave soon,” you said. “Once I settle my affairs with the school. They’ll probably be happy to see me go. I’ve never really fit in with the rest of my classmates.”

It didn’t matter that you were one of the best students there. All that your teachers and peers and principal saw was the Pokéball on your belt, which glowed like a beacon, alerting them all to how you were different. You weren’t like the others. You relied on your trainer’s stipend to pay for your tuition, and your Pokémon was the battling sort instead of a docile companion occasionally employed to defend you from a wilder Pokémon’s aggression.

People placed bets about what kind of Pokémon you must have. They never told you, but you were aware of it anyways. Some of them were kinder, presuming that it was an Espurr like your mother’s, or perhaps a Helioptile, the pre-evolution of your father’s Heliolisk. Those who liked you very much — or very little, if they meant it in a mocking way — claimed it must be one of those more elegant types. Perhaps the rainbow serpent Milotic, or a pale, iridescent-winged Butterfree. Others, who found great pleasure in looking down on you, assured their friends that it was a small, mousy Rattata, purple and fat and nervous, with quivering ears and overgrown teeth.

Even you did not know. Shoei had not bothered to tell you before he had left, and you had not yet released her, so whenever people slyly asked you which battle-partner rested on your hip, you could only shrug and tell them that you weren’t certain. This was almost always met with disdain, for if they had braved asking you, then they had the kind of curiosity which couldn’t be sated with such a noncommittal and vague answer.

When you got to school the next day, you rubbed your Gogoat companion on its soft cheek. It cocked its head at you, obviously confused — it didn’t know that this was the last time it would see you, though when you smiled at it sadly and murmured goodbye, its ears drooped, and you thought that it must understand in its own way.

Instead of going to class, you went directly to the principal’s office. She was a tall woman with a face like a Geodude’s, permanently set in a severe frown that was only exacerbated by the slicked-back knot she kept her thinning hair in, and she had never once said a kind word to you. You didn’t know if she was incapable or if it was just that you did not pay enough money to draw it out of her.

“Miss L/N,” she said when you walked in without knocking. She was hunched over a stack of papers, and she did not look up when you entered. In the corner, her black-and-violet Grumpig looked at you, its beady eyes the same shade as the dark pearls on its head and chest, its pink snout twitching in the same distaste it always showed you. “You should be in class.”

“I’m leaving,” you said. You knew it was abrupt even as you said it, but there was no point in delicacy at this late stage. Your mind was made up, and there was little chance that the woman before you would try to stop you, so what cause did you have for tiptoeing around the matter?

“Leaving?” she said. That piqued her interest enough that she looked up at you, her glasses sliding down her nose. Pushing them back up, she narrowed her eyes. “On a journey, I presume?”

“That’s correct,” you said. She didn’t ask you why, only pressing her lips into a thin line, white around the wrinkled edges from the force of it.

“It’s about time,” she said.

“Yes,” you said.

“We at the school wish you luck. Communications will be sent out regarding the reimbursement of your tuition for the rest of the semester,” she said, rattling it off in a robotic, trained voice that almost put you to sleep.

“Thank you,” you replied, just as mechanically. “If that is all?”

“I would suggest you visit the Pokémart before leaving,” she said.

“I was already planning on it,” you said. “But I appreciate your counsel.”

You turned to the door, your fingers resting on the polished handle as you prepared to open it. Before you could push it down, however, the principal cleared her throat, motioning with her hand for you to stop. Her Grumpig’s ears swiveled in distress, which was odd coming from such a self-assured species, and her own expression was a similar blend of anxious and intrigued.

“Hold on,” she said. “Release your Pokémon first. I wish to see it.”

“New policy?” you said, raising an eyebrow at her. As far as you knew, school officials had no right to demand you release your Pokémon for them, especially given that you were leaving the institution, but it wasn’t like you read the code of conduct regularly or anything like that.

To your surprise, she shook her head. “Personal curiosity.”

The principal’s office wasn’t exactly the place you had dreamed of releasing your partner for the first time, but then again it was just as good as any other location, so why delay? Plus, at least this way the Grumpig was there to corral any unruliness should it manifest — some kinds of Pokémon enjoyed testing their trainers, and though you didn’t think Shoei would have given you one of those sorts on purpose, it remained that the dispositions which agreed with him weren’t always the sort that the general populace found tolerable.

“Alright,” you said. Unclipping the ball from your belt, you pressed the seal once to enlarge it, rolling it in your palm while you waited for the principal to give you some kind of signal. She nodded, and you tossed the Pokéball in the air, triggering the mechanism which would release its contents from stasis and allow her to reform in the real world.

Even before your Pokémon had fully coalesced, the Grumpig was squealing in fright, crashing backwards into the wall, the whites of its eyes showing, its breaths shallow as its chest heaved. You frowned, because there was no reason that it should be so frightened of a relatively low-level Pokémon such as yours, but then an eerie howl stabbed into your eardrums and you understood at once.

Your Pokémon came up to just below your waist, and she had short black fur, pointed ears, and a red muzzle. Bony ridges criss-crossed her back, her ankles, and her forehead, giving her a menacing appearance that was only furthered by the knife-sharp fangs peeking out of her mouth and the growl rumbling in the back of her throat.

“Houndour?” you said. At the sound of her name, she shifted towards you, and immediately her tail began wagging, her mouth opening as she panted happily. A lump formed in your throat the longer you stared at her, and then you crouched, wrapping your arms around her muscular shoulders. She smelled spicy and hot but also sweet, the way pepper jelly or cinnamon tasted, and her nose was cold when she pressed it to your cheek in a fond greeting.

“Your Pokémon is a Houndour?” the principal said. Houndour cocked her head at the principal, one ear still turned towards the Grumpig in the corner, the other pricked forwards at the woman.

“Not just any Houndour,” you said, straightening but still keeping a hand atop Houndour’s head. “Shoei’s Houndour’s sister.”

The principal was wary now, she had been ever since you had released Houndour, and for good reason — the species had an ominous reputation, and most people thought that they and their evolutionary counterpart, Houndoom, were beasts sent to drag humans to hell for any perceived wrongdoings. To make things worse, any sense of comfort that her Grumpig might’ve afforded her was vanished, because it could do nothing against Houndour, who as a dark type was immune to psychic attacks.

“How do you know?” she said.

“I know,” you said. Houndour sighed, the exasperated exhale releasing a wisp of smoke that curled and dissipated into the air above her. “Well, that’ll quell the bets. I guess nobody managed to guess correctly.”

“Nobody would’ve!” the principal burst out, taking out a Pokéball of her own and returning the Grumpig before putting the ball in her desk drawer. “Who in their right mind would give a dark type to a beginning trainer?”

“Not all of them are like that,” you said. “You’d know that if you ever read the material that all of your students are forced to sit through. Of course, no one in their right mind would give someone without any other Pokémon a Sneasel or a Purrloin, but as a general rule, you won’t find a Pokémon more loyal to their trainer than a Houndour. Anyways, this one is special.”

It wasn’t her place to question you further, so whistling for Houndour to follow you, you slipped out of the office and left the school behind for good.

As you walked to the Pokémart, you noticed that people gave you a wide berth, eyeing the Pokémon trotting along at your side with no small amount of suspicion. Houndour paid them no mind, though, and so neither did you, humming to yourself, entirely relieved that Shoei knew you well enough to give you her.

“You’re a first-time trainer?” the cashier at the Pokémart said, peering over the counter at Houndour, who blinked back at him innocently. “Okay…I suppose you’ll need potions and some basic Pokéballs, then. Twenty of each should last you until you can make it to the next town, I’d say, if not further.”

“That sounds good,” you said.

“Do you want to pay for those on account or in cash?” he said.

“What does on account mean?” you said.

“It’s a way for trainers to get necessary supplies even if they’re lacking the immediate funds. Basically, everybody who buys from a Pokémart gets an account created for them, and they can choose to put their purchases on that account and pay them off at a later date,” he said.

“That sounds easily exploitable by someone who doesn’t mean to ever pay back,” you said.

“Balances are due every month, the day after stipends are released. You’ll accrue interest on them after that, and if it’s been too long, your account will be frozen and authorities will be contacted,” he said with a shrug. “It really is meant to help people out, but the choice is yours.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to come back here in a month’s time regardless, so it doesn’t matter,” you said.

“No, no, they can be paid off at any official Pokémart,” he said. “Of course they took that into consideration.”

“I see,” you said. “Then put it all on my account, if that’s alright.”

“Perfectly fine by me,” he said, typing something into his computer, fingers flying over the keyboard.

Your stipend for the month had gone into your tuition, and until you got your reimbursements figured out, you’d rather not waste any more money unless it was an emergency. Besides, if the option was there, you supposed you might as well familiarize yourself with it.

“Is that everything, do you think?” you said.

“Unless you want an item for your Pokémon to hold in battle,” he said.

“An item?” you said. Although you knew so much about Pokémon biology and various scientific theories regarding them, you hardly had a clue about even these most basic concepts of battle. They weren’t considered important for those of you at the school to learn; after all, besides you, no one was even registered to be a trainer, so why would they waste the time?

The cashier snorted. “I guess you really are a first-time trainer.”

“Obviously,” you said. “Why would I lie about that?”

“Pokémon can hold items — according to league rules, it’s a maximum of one, though it’s also fine if you don’t give them any — that’ll aid them in battle. Some trainers will give them berries that’ll negate side effects from various moves, and others will give them stones to hold that’ll boost their stats. It’s up to you, though. Plenty of people don’t give them any items at all. You’ll have to get rid of the one your Houndour already has if you want to use one while battling, though,” he said.

“What do you mean? She doesn’t have any items,” you said. He clicked his tongue, pointing at Houndour’s neck.

“That counts, even if it doesn’t do anything,” he said. You followed the line of his index finger, furrowing your brow when you realized he was referencing the silky red collar tied in a bow at her scruff. There was a stone embedded in it that sparkled at her throat, and even before the cashier could say something, you were shaking your head.

“No, that stays,” you said. “It’s important. Maybe not for battle, but for me.”

“Alright,” the cashier said, clearly unaffected. “It’s your decision. Here are the potions and Pokéballs you asked for.”

He slid the assortment of things across the counter, and you swept them into your bag, which had already been emptied of your books and the rest of your school supplies. Waving at him, you exited the Pokémart, making your way to your house for what would probably be the last time in a while.

“You’re quite a bit bigger than the last time I saw you,” you said to Houndour as you walked, scratching her under the chin idly when you reached the road and had to wait for a car to pass by. “When’d Shoei get around to capturing you, too, huh?”

Your father had taken off of work to wish you farewell, and your mother was at home as she always was, so you did not even have to call out their names when you entered the house. They were waiting in the foyer, Heliolisk and Espurr by their sides, though when Houndour padded in behind you, Espurr hissed, darting to hide behind your mother’s leg.

“A Houndour?” your father said, raising his eyebrows. Houndour barked at him; you couldn’t quite tell what the bark meant, but it was a harsh enough sound that your father winced at it. “What was Shoei thinking?”

“I know her,” you said. “That’s probably it.”

“What do you mean?” your mother said. “Since when?”

“Uh, it’ll probably make you angry,” you said.

“Huh?” your father said. “It’s not like we can do anything about it now.”

“You’ve got us curious,” your mother added.

“It’s kind of a long story,” you admitted. “But as with most things, it begins and ends with Shoei.”

Your cousin lived on the very edge of Coumarine City, on the outskirts right by the winding road to the cliffs and the coast, and so whenever your family visited his, the two of you would sneak off to the beach to play. It was dangerous, because neither of you had Pokémon, but with your youth came this notion of impunity, and since nothing had happened thus far, both of you believed that it would continue in that way until the end of time.

“I’m going to be a trainer one day,” Shoei told you, helping you down from the narrow ledge that you had to leap from to make it to the sand of the shore. You were still too frightened to jump by yourself, and he was patient enough that he did not tease you for it, only taking your hand and letting you clutch his arm for balance.

“Of course,” you said. “I will, too. It’s not uncommon.”

“Not for the stipend,” he said. “I’m going to be a proper trainer, with a full team and everything. You’ll see. I’ll do the league challenge and join the conference once I have all of my badges, and then after that I’ll beat the Elite Four and Mr. Mikage. Then I’ll be Champion. The best trainer in all of Kalos. That’s what I mean.”

“How, though? Neither of your parents have battling Pokémon, so you can’t use their partners to catch your own, and we’re way too far for you to go to the professor’s lab in Lumiose and get one of the official starters from there,” you said.

“I don’t know,” Shoei said. “But I’ll figure it out.”

“Okay,” you said.

“Do you think I can do it?” he said.

“You can do anything,” you said. His chest puffed out a bit at that, and he grinned at you. He hardly ever smiled, so you took it as a treat, beaming back at him.

“That’s right,” he said. “I can do anything.”

“Ooh, look at these!” you said, stopping in your tracks and bending over to dig around in the sand, pulling out two twin stones with a flourish.

It was your favorite hobby, finding shells and pretty things to admire before you tossed them back into the sea, but there was something different about these two. There were clouds in the air, and yet they shone as brightly as if the sun’s rays were concentrated on them, a soft pink shade like dawn, cut through with a streak of black as dark as a shadow. Weathered by the tides, they were slick in your hand, and you dropped them into Shoei’s pocket for safekeeping.

“You want to take those home? Normally you throw shards of sea glass back into the ocean,” Shoei said.

“They’re nicer than normal,” you said. “You can keep them, if you want. Like a present.”

He scoffed. “I’ll probably just throw them away.”

You pouted. “If that’s what you prefer.”

He could only maintain his gruff expression for a moment before softening and ruffling your hair. “I was only joking. I’ll put them on my bookshelf and think of you every time I see them.”

Immediately, you brightened, because back then your mood’s rise and fell was almost entirely dependent on him. He noticed, but he only wrinkled his nose at you, grabbing you by the back of the shirt before you could fall into a tide pool.

“Watch where you’re going,” he said, holding you in place as you craned your neck in wonder. The water was so clear you could see every little plant and shell growing in its depths; at the bottom, there were even a Krabby scuttling about, though when it noticed you, it dashed back to hide amongst the stones, too shy to provoke you even though you had no Pokémon of your own.

“It’s so pretty, Shoei,” you said. “Can we look for more?”

“Sure,” he said. “Our parents won’t be expecting us for a bit, so as long as we don’t go too far and remember the way back home, it shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Yay!” you said, tugging on his sleeve. “Let’s go that way! Or, wait, no. That way!”

He poked you in the side as you tried to make up your mind. “How about both? Just choose one to start with, and then we can head in the other direction afterwards.”

“Good idea,” you said, picking at random and setting off with Shoei in tow.

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon wandering up and down along the line of pebbly sand where the waves broke, pointing out bits of shells and smaller Pokémon to one another when you saw them. It was dangerous, no doubt about it, but the danger added a certain thrill to the otherwise innocuous activity, and so neither of you minded too much.

Some hours passed — was it two or three? You didn’t know — before you heard a bone-chilling sound, one which wasn’t supposed to be heard around Coumarine City but which was engraved into both of your brains from various horror films regardless.

“Was that a Houndour?” you said, pressing closer to Shoei. “I thought that they were only found around Geosenge Town, though?”

You were suddenly hyper-aware of the sun setting in the distance, as well as the fact that we had somehow managed to travel far enough from your typical spot that it would take you ages to find your way home. The Houndour howled again, and Shoei scowled deeply, the lines of it etched into his forehead.

“Let’s investigate,” he said.

“What? Shouldn’t we be running away from it?” you said, yelping and following as he charged towards the source of the sound.

“Either it’s a trainer’s Pokémon, in which case I want their advice about going on a journey, or it’s somewhere it’s not supposed to be, in which case…” he trailed off, a determined set to his mouth as the two of you ran. “We just need to be quick so we can get home in time.”

It was a few minutes later that you skidded to a stop in front of a small cave with a Houndour sitting in front of it, howling and howling. Now that you were faced with the Pokémon, you realized it was not as large and intimidating as the movies and its reputation made it sound; for some reason, its cry, too, felt more mournful than anything.

When it noticed you and Shoei, it flattened its ears and tucked its tail, rocking back on its haunches and baring its teeth with a warning growl. Shoei held out a hand, averting his eyes and speaking in a soft whisper so unlike his typical rough tone.

“We only want to help you,” he said. “How’d you end up here, anyways?”

The Houndour stared at him for a heart-stopping instant. You were as still as you could be — even if the Pokémon didn’t seem as demonic as it did in the movies, it remained that it was considerably more powerful than a Krabby could ever hope to be, and furthermore had a famously more aggressive temperament than the skittish denizens of the tide pools.

Flames coated the Houndour’s mouth, and you cringed away from it, but Shoei was still, not gazing at it directly but refusing to back down, either. The Houndour took him in before abruptly extinguishing the fire, tilting its head towards the mouth of the cave and then whining at you entreatingly.

“Sounds like he wants us to follow him,” Shoei said, ducking so he could enter the cave. You crept in behind him, narrowing your eyes against the darkness; although you did not complain, the Houndour must’ve sensed your discomfort, because with a rumbling from deep within its stomach, it formed an ember, holding it in its mouth instead of spitting it out so that it could light the path forward.

When you reached the hollowed out main room of the cave, the Houndour stopped, barking and pawing at the stone. Shoei brushed the sand off of the Houndour’s back and then knelt so that he could inspect what the Pokémon had brought you to see: another Houndour, this one lying limply on the cold, stony floor.

“There’s two of them?” you said.

“If I had to guess, they got separated from their pack during that storm we had a few days ago. The rain would’ve washed away all of the scents they found familiar, so their best option was trying to find some kind of shelter,” Shoei said. “That must be how she got hurt.”

The smaller Houndour’s paw was matted and sticky with blood, hence why she could not get up, though she did lift her head a little, wagging her tail at you when she noticed you were there.

“They’ve come so far,” you said. “Why didn’t they stop at Shalour? That’s in between here and Geosenge.”

“With all of those birds hanging around there? They would’ve been Mandibuzz food in a heartbeat, especially the injured one,” he said.

“I see,” you said. Mandibuzz weren’t native to the Kalos region, but the gym leader of Shalour City specialized in flying types, so he was always introducing new species to the area. “What should we do?”

“The wound’s old. If we can clean it off, it’ll heal on its own. She probably has Flash Fire for an ability, so a burn won’t do her any harm, which means the brother can cauterize it without an issue,” he said, scooping the Houndour up without much ceremony. Normally, it’d be impossible, but she was small for her kind, and Shoei had always been stronger than most his age.

The older Houndour lit the way as you emerged onto the beach, where Shoei found a nearby tide pool, using the briny water to rinse the blood from the wound. The female Houndour was trembling, no doubt because the water was an unpleasant feeling for a fire type such as herself, but there was nothing to be done about it besides working quickly, and admirably, she did not make a sound the entire time Shoei was working.

“This is the kind of thing you have to deal with as a trainer,” he said once the paw was cleaned and the pink gash was exposed to the sun. “Of course, a potion would cure this in a minute, but we don’t have any on hand, so it’ll have to wait. Hey, you. Can you use Ember on her injury?”

The older Houndour seemed uncertain, but to your surprise, he did not protest, only creeping forward and nudging his sister in apology before breathing a fire the size of your palm directly onto the wound. Curiously, she did not react beyond glancing at the light it gave off, and Shoei scratched behind her ears.

“Is that the effect of Flash Fire?” you said.

“Yup,” he said, waiting for the flame to die out and then lifting the Houndour in his arms again. “It’s common amongst Houndour.”

“What does it do, exactly?” you said.

“Gives them immunity to fire-based attacks,” he said. “All in all, it makes sense, given that they hunt in tandem. It wouldn’t do for the pack to injure its own members while chasing after prey, yeah? In fact, fire only boosts their special attacks.”

“Special attacks?” you said.

“Ah, it’s a league term for non-physical attacks,” he said. “They needed a way to differentiate it for bettors, since most Pokémon are only good in one area or the other.”

“I get it now,” you said. “So, like, being hit with an Ember would make her own Ember stronger?”

“Exactly,” he said, setting the Houndour down where you had found her and patting you on the head. “Good job. You’ll make a great trainer yourself someday. Maybe almost as good as me.”

“I don’t want to be a trainer,” you said. “I just want to live at home with everyone and go to school and be happy.”

“Is that so?” he said. “Then that’s what you should do.”

Arranging the Houndour into a more comfortable position, he turned to the older one, a serious expression on his face. The Houndour was still, his tail held straight in the air — alert, wary, but not distressed. You knew that much about Pokémon behavior from your early-level classes.

“Is there an easier way to our house from here?” he said to the Houndour. “Take us to it if there is.”

“How would it even know where we live?” you said.

“There’s very few Pokémon with a better sense of smell than the Houndoom line,” he said. “Go on, then, Houndour. Take us home. She’ll be alright for the few minutes you’re gone.”

The older Houndour gave his sister a worried look, but he must’ve felt as though he owed Shoei a debt, for he slunk out of the cave with his nose against the ground, nostrils flared as he tried to pick out a trail. You and Shoei watched for a few minutes before the Houndour suddenly froze, raising one of his front paws and extending his muzzle forward.

“What’s he doing?” you said.

“Pointing,” Shoei said, a tinge of disbelief in his voice. “I knew the Growlithe in the police force are trained to do it, but I didn’t realize that Houndour do it naturally.”

“I bet Houndour would be a great police Pokémon if people weren’t so scared of it,” you said, your sentiments towards the species far more charitable now, as the two of you followed the Houndour up a winding path that you had never even known existed.

Before the sun had even finished setting — which was miraculous, given how close to the horizon it had been when you had set out — the Houndour had led you to Shoei’s backyard. You could hear your parents talking and laughing with one another, contemplating calling you both back for dinner, and you were about to run inside when you realized Shoei was still lingering back.

Pausing in your tracks, though you doubted he noticed that you were listening to his conversation, you tried to quiet your breathing so that you could hear what he was saying to the Houndour, which was as motionless then as it had been when the two of you had first found it.

“Meet me here in a couple of days,” he said. “I’ll get a potion by then and use it on your sister’s paw so she doesn’t have any lasting side effects from the injury.”

The Houndour sneezed at Shoei, which you supposed was his way of assenting. Shoei laughed, which was a rare sound and also a wonderful one; then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw him move to offer the back of his hand to the small Pokémon, who sniffed it cautiously.

“Hey, Houndour. I’m going to be a trainer one day — a Champion, in fact,” he said. “So don’t go home, okay? Even once your sister is better, don’t go home. Find me again, and come with me.”

The Houndour did not make any moves of agreement nor dissent; instead, he just disappeared into the lengthening shadows of the night, leaving you and Shoei behind in the trimmed grass of the lawn, where no wild Pokémon would ever dare to tread.

A few moments later, though, the night was split with a howl, high and sinister and uncanny, and once more Shoei laughed, because that was all the answer that he needed.

[valewritessss]

WHAT CABIN DO YOU THINK THE KOTLC CHARACTERS WOULD BE IN??

OKAY OKAY OKAY IVE BEEN READY FOR THIS ONE

Sophie- photographic memory is giving me Athena child, but she very well could be something else. It’s hard to tell when we’re talking about ability-based bc she has so many. Out of all the characters she’s the one I struggle the most with to assign a cabin

Dex- Hephaestus for obvious reasons, but also because Leo in hoo talks about being left out a lot and the fact that Dex gets less page time than Silveny says lots about that

Biana and Fitz- I think Fitz and Biana would both be Aphrodite kids bc a) they’re siblings so it makes sense for them to be the same cabin and b) it’s constantly mentioned how beautiful they are. I honestly think all of the Vackers would be. If any of them had charmspeak it would definitely be Alvar and maybe Fitz, which would give chance for such good Fitz rage. And like I said in my other post, Biana is a prime example of what the Aphrodite cabin would be like if written correctly and not just handed the “femininity makes me weak” role. She slays literally and figuratively.

Keefe- APOLLO APOLLO APOLLO (not just bc he’s blond just think about it really think about it) I want to explain but I can’t form the words so just think about it plsss

Marella- abilities would make her Hephaestus for sure, some of her personality traits would make her Aphrodite, but i don’t think she’d be a demigod I’d think she’d join the hunters of Artemis. OR OR OR she’s a child of Hephaestus and joins then joins the hunters (I forgot that was an option for a second)

Tam- so I looked into it and child of Hecate seems pretty good? I mean darkness and his ability with shadows is kind of eerie-like, and perfectly fit with Hecate. Also, the ability to control the mist sounds like a Tam thing

Linh- well, we’re all thinking it right? Poseidon. But less of the raging storm more of the gentle ocean waves kissing your feet and occasionally the raging storms. Like a touch of sadness and sorrow but easy to see the beauty in it so it’s not scary. Idk if that made sense Im spewing words here.

Wylie- I was thinking maybe Athena because he sees reason, you know? And I read Kotlc a very long time ago so I don’t remember much about him. He had that studious vibe to him idk. I’m going purely based off of feels rn😭

Stina- Nemesis. Okay okay, here me out. Girly holds her grudges, she’s a little mean, but she doesn’t let that stop her from helping Silveny whatever the motive may be. And if we’re thinking story wise, it’s like Ethan Nakamura if you squint but it’s there I can’t explain it. Seems bad, can be bad, but she’s proof that it’s never 100% bad, people have layers, like an onion

Maruca- Ares, and the reason is because she’s pretty bluntly honest, and she’s hella determined. Ares kids are mostly seen to be very frank, and that fits her perfectly. And her determination is a trait we can see in Clarisse(most of the time in the form of stubbornness, ahem, refusing to fight) but ofc in their world everything is sunshine and rainbows so determination, not stuborness. In all seriousness I mean determination because it fits her more than stubbornness but they’re similar traits. Idk I’m getting off topic

Those were all the characters I could think of at the top of my head and if you disagree with any let me know I just did these for fun nothing serious

I would love it if anyone wants to send me characters that I didn’t do and ill give them a cabin😊

[llamamamareads]

An Illyrian Baby: Part III

Part I | Part II

This is the final part of An Illyrian Baby. I hope you enjoy it. Thank you for all the love and support. It's been a long time since I've written on tumblr and had absolutely no intention to do so again, but when the initial idea popped into my head I literally could not sleep until I got it out of my system. I can't promise anything in the future, but we'll see ;) xx

Azriel x Reader

Several hours later, you walk hand in hand to the infirmary with Azriel. You’d had a long conversation about the pros and cons and he decided to agree with these methods on the condition that Madja stops the moment anything goes wrong with you. The problem at this point was more Azriel keeping his cool than anything. Shadows wound up and along your legs as you walked, twisting and turning in spirals around him as well. His jaw was tight and he kept a firm grip on your hand. You pull your joined hands to your lips as you approach the infirmary door. “It’s only a broken bone, Az,” you murmur as you press a kiss to the back of his hand.

“Only a broken bone,” he mutters and shakes his head. “An unnecessary broken bone.”

“It’s not unnecessary if it works.”

He shakes his head and walks through the doors. Cassian is standing to the right with Rhys and Feyre to the left. Madja stands with her back turned as she pours what smells like tea into a mug for you. Azriel helps you onto the cot and presses his lips to the top of your head. “Drink this and we’ll begin as soon as you’re asleep.” Madja hands you the mug and you drink every drop, handing the mug back to her.

You fall asleep rather quickly and Madja nods to Feyre and Rhys. Together they get into your mind to ensure you will be at peace throughout the process. Cassian stands at the foot of the cot, watching Azriel closely. Madja stands across from Azriel but at your hips rather than higher up your torso. “Ready?” she asks. Once Feyre and Rhys nod she looks to Azriel who swallows and nods once as well.

Immediately, the sounds of bones breaking echoes throughout the room and Azriel lets his breath out in an audible woosh. With the sound of a second crack he drops to his knees beside you, his hands dropping your hand to grip the sides of the cot. The third crack sends shadows whirling around the room, your body covered in swirls of them with more bouncing around the room uncontrollably. The lights are knocked out by the surge of Azriel’s power.

Cassian steps to one side and Rhys to the other, each gripping one of his shoulders. Madja continues working and Azriel’s grip on the cot never falters. The chaos of the room continues until she’s finished. “She’ll need to rest a few days before getting up and about. If she needs anything, I’ll be here.”

Azriel carries you to your room and tucks you into bed. He sits next to you and traces patterns on the skin of your arm gently as he waits for you to wake up. He sits for hours waiting, his shadows continuing to whirl over you protectively.

When you wake up, you are genuinely in the worst pain you’ve ever felt. You try to sit up as you open your eyes, but let out a soft grunt of displeasure. “(Y/N) don’t move, baby. What do you need?” Azriel asks, helping you to shift to sit with the pillows at your back.

You shake your head gently. “I’m fine, I just have to pee.” You move to kick your feet off the side of the bed and let out a whimper at the movement. Azriel immediately scoops you up and assists you throughout the process, informing you of everything Madja said of aftercare.

For two days he doesn’t let you out of bed. It’s a week after that before the pain settled into soreness. Unfortunately, a month later, you return to Madja to repeat the process. It takes 3 sessions before your bone structure reflects that of an Illyrian female’s. 3 sessions, 3 months, and more pain than you’d both ever wanted to endure later. You both had stopped drinking contraceptives. You weren’t up for any activities throughout the process as it was, but the sooner you both stopped drinking it, the sooner the effects would wear off for later.

A year later, you’re cooking dinner when Azriel walks into your quarters and slides his arms around your waist from behind. He kisses where your neck meets your shoulder and freezes when he inhales your scent. A slow grin spreads across his face and he kisses your skin again. “You’re pregnant,” he murmurs, turning you around. He drops to his knees in front of you and kisses just below your navel. “You’re finally pregnant,” he grins up at you, squeezing your hips gently with his palms.

You both celebrate that night but wait to tell everyone until you’ve seen Madja. It was easier said than done. You kept to yourself in your quarters and Azriel swore Madja to secrecy. You lay down on the cot the same as you’d done for every other appointment with her and Azriel takes your hand. Madja places a hand on your lower abdomen and smiles fondly.

“You indeed are pregnant. With not one but two babes.”

You look up at her then Azriel, both of your faces expressing shock. “Two? We’re having twins?”

“Yes, dear. Twins. Don’t worry about a thing,” Madja promises and pats your hand, seeing the worry behind the excitement in your expression.

“Twins,” Azriel repeats, a grin from ear to ear as he wraps you in his arms and twirls you around. “We’re having twins!!”

@psychobookaholic @inpraizeof @kexrtiz @historygeekqueen @elizabethrosecresswell @icy--stars

[runningfrom2am]

Omg I neeeed a part two to hard to carry it’s so good!

your wish is my command :))

(i feel like this is literally so boring so apologies in advance lol)

hard to carry (II)

part one

pairing: jj x kook!reader

wc: 2.4k

After a week, JJ still couldn't get you off his mind. He resisted the urge to send you a message over Instagram several times, and his usage of the app spiked since you entered the username in his phone. Not that you posted anything new, but subconsciously, he was waiting for you to. More than once, he found himself tilting his phone away from his girlfriend while they were laying in bed together, hoping she wouldn't catch a glimpse of the latest picture of you he was staring at, desperately trying to recreate the feeling he got when he first laid eyes on you.

JJ is torn. Even as he sits on the takeout counter at The Wreck, laughing and talking with the girl he's loved for years, he can't help but compare her laugh to yours.

"No, JJ, we have to do something for Sarah's birthday, I'm just saying that it's a good option!" Kie laughs, wrapping her apron around her waist as she steps around the counter.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right." JJ chuckles, glancing down at his phone as it vibrates in his hand. Disappointed again when it was just a message from John B, not from you. 

"JJ! Off the counter," Mike calls out, seeing a customer walking towards the door. JJ goes to jump down, stopping with his hands gripping the edge next to him when he looks up at the customer and sees that it's you.

You carefully close the door behind you, looking down at your phone taking the last few moments before you have to talk to an employee of the restaurant to place a long order with the list you got from your parents. You want to make sure you remember everything alright, avoiding stuttering and embarrassing yourself.

You look up as you approach the counter, smiling when your eyes land on JJ. "JJ the pogue!" You call out, smiling wide. "Do you work here?"

JJ smiles, relaxing again on the counter. "Hey! Uh, no, I don't." He shakes his head, looking back over his shoulder as Kie walks out, wiping off her hands, ready to take your order.

She swats at him to jump down and he does, his eyes not leaving you for a second while you speak.

"Weird that you're sitting on the counter in an establishment you don't work at." You tilt your head at him and he chuckles, shrugging and looking over at Mike when he intervenes.

"Agreed, sweetheart." The man says, brushing past behind you to join his daughter behind the counter.

"Uh... what can I get for you?" Kie asks, glancing between JJ and you as you stare at each other.

"Oh! Uh, I've got a bit of a list that I've totally forgotten, I was hoping to get everything to go as well. Just give me one sec..." You laugh in embarrassment, looking down at your phone again.

"I can just read the list, if that's easier." The girl suggests and you nod, handing it over to her.

"Thanks, I appreciate that." You say as Kie takes the phone, typing in the computer from what you have written down in your notes app.

"What's the name for the order?" She asks, sticking her tongue to the inside of her cheek as she notices how JJ is watching you so intently.

"Y/N." You answer, catching JJ's eyes again briefly as he leans back against the counter in front of you.

"So, JJ the pogue, how was that watermelon?" You ask as Kie writes the name down on the receipt and passes it off to her dad before handing you the debit machine, which you quickly tap your card on, leaving a generous tip. Her and the man she's working with seem really nice- you assume that it's her dad, since they look quite alike. You've always also valued small businesses, and getting to know different local restaurants and stores on the island has been a favourite hobby of yours since you arrived.

JJ nods in response. "It was really good! I was right- you had a good eye, Y/N the kook." He grins, and you don't notice as the father and daughter working both lock their eyes on the two of you at the same time.

"Okay-" You laugh, shaking your head and reaching up to brush away the hair that's fallen into your face. "You're right, that does sound so bad." You say, leaning against the counter next to him and picking up your phone from where the curly-haired girl left it.

JJ smiles at you, moving over a little to give you some space. He looks back over his shoulder when he hears Kie drop something, seeing instead that she just slammed something down on the counter while she was getting your drinks ready. "Do you two know each other? Or..." Kie asks when she notices both of your eyes on her. Your smile fades, suddenly getting the vibe that she's not pleased about the two of you talking.

"Yeah! Sorry, I'm Y/N. You knew that, though, I guess." You chuckle and she nods, looking over at her boyfriend and waiting for further explanation.

"We met at the grocery store last week, she helped me pick out a watermelon. The one we ate for breakfast yesterday, she said it was the second best one they had." JJ explains, cringing internally as Kie nods skeptically, raising her eyebrows to show she doesn't believe it. Or at the very least, doesn't care. "This is Kie, by the way. My girlfriend." He turns to you now, feeling guilty already for having to say that at all. Deep in his gut, he hopes he doesn't scare you off.

"Oh! Lovely to meet you!" You smile, hoping to make a good impression despite your slight disappointment. Of course JJ wasn't single, but you hadn't let yourself consider that until this point.

"Likewise." Kie grumbles, stepping away to grab something from the back. 

"So... uh, what brought you to The Wreck?" JJ asks you as she walks out of sight.

"We heard some five-star reviews." You shrug, smiling at him then looking up to Mike. "Also that the owners live just down the block, and are upstanding citizens." You say, making the man chuckle and shake his head.

"That's real sweet." He says, returning his focus to his cooking. "Your parents are the Y/L/N's, then, yeah?" Mike asks.

"Yes sir." You nod.

"Well, welcome to the island! I'm Mike, Kie is my daughter." He explains. "And JJ isn't even supposed to be in here." His tone shifts as his eyes land on the blonde boy next to you, making him tense up.

"Message received, sir." JJ salutes him. "I'll get out of your hair, then." He stands up away from the counter, heading for the door.

"I'll see you around, yeah?" He says to you, trying to commit your eye colour to memory as the bell above the door rings when he opens it.

"See you!" You smile and wave as as he leaves, walking just out of sight.

Mike diverts his eyes from the interaction, chewing on his lip as he focusses on not burning your food. He hates JJ, of course, and would love nothing more than him and Kie to break up, but even imagining the possibility of him cheating on her makes his blood boil. He remembers seeing that look on JJ's face in the way he used to look at his daughter, and now in the way he looks at you. Maybe he should let your food burn after all.

"It was nice to meet you both! No doubt I'll be back, this smells fantastic." You smile, holding the bag of takeout on your hip as you head for the door.

"Bye, tell your parents we'll have to meet them for dinner or something sometime!" Mike smiles at you and Kie just rolls her eyes.

"Of course. They would love that." You nod. "Bye, Kie!" You add in for good measure, smiling at her. You hope that if you do make good friends with JJ, the way you hope you will, you can befriend her too and make a better first impression.

"Later." She replies sarcastically as you open the door, slipping out and letting out a sigh as the door shuts behind you and you make your way to where you parked behind the building. That was tense.

"Hey! Y/N!" You look up before you open your car door, seeing JJ walking up to you.

"I thought you were kicked out." You laugh and JJ shrugs.

"Yeah, and I left." 

"Right, of course." You giggle.

"Uh, nice car you've got." He changes the subject. He's not sure why he even waited, or why he even came to talk to you, but he just knew he had to. He couldn't let you leave again without learning something, anything else about you.

You look back at the vehicle behind you, suddenly having never seen it in your life. "Oh, thanks. It's my pride and joy. We've been through a lot together." You joke.

"Yeah it's cute. Suits you." JJ admits, smile tugging at his lips as he looks between you and the car.

"And! Get this-" You say excitedly, pulling your keys from your pocket and fumbling with them in your one free hand before starting it from outside, the Bluetooth speakers automatically connecting to your phone and blasting the same Taylor Swift song you were listening to before you parked. "Bose speakers! Isn't it cool?" 

"That is sweet, yeah." JJ nods, but he doesn't even so much as glance at the car again. "We should take it for a ride sometime." He suggests hopefully, making your smile falter a little.

"Yeah! I mean, I don't know, I feel like Kie didn't like me very much." You say quieter, tucking the keys back into your pocket.

"She doesn't have to come." JJ shrugs, making you nervous. Both of you feel guilty even as he says it, but there's just something about you that makes him unable to resist the urge to ask.

"She's welcome to! She does seem lovely. She's gorgeous, by the way." You regain your smile, again, hoping to keep your possible new friends on your good side.

"Oh, yeah, thanks." JJ says, looking down at his feet briefly.

"Does she just... Not like you having girl friends? Or is this about the kook thing again? That would be weird though because I feel like she qualifies, her parents living down the street from me and all." You ask, genuinely curious.

"Uh.. could go either way, honestly. She's gone full pogue. Her parents hate me for that." JJ laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. "She kind of hates me these days too, to be honest."

Watching his movements, you can finally admit to yourself that you are absolutely jealous of her. He's gorgeous. "What do you mean?" You ask, shamefully hoping that this means their relationship is on the outs.

"Ah, well, shit. I don't know. We just fight, sometimes, and, I don't know." JJ tries to explain, not wanting to air out their dirty laundry to someone who's essentially a stranger. A beautiful one, none-the-less. 

"Oh..." You nod a little, unsure of what to say. "I'm sorry to hear that-" 

"How about that drive, huh?" JJ interrupts you, staring into your eyes again.

"Oh- uh, yeah! We'll work out a time... I'll just message you?" You ask, taking the change of subject and running with it. "I've got to get this dinner home, my parents are waiting..."

"Shit, yeah, of course." JJ nods, giving his head a quick shake to ground himself in reality again.

"Bye, JJ the pogue!" You say, winking at him as you open your car door, placing the food on the passengers seat.

"Later, Y/N the kook." He teases, giving you a quick wave and turning to head back to his bike. God- he hopes you'll text him.

By the time Kie gets home and slams the front door, JJ is left in nothing but his pyjama pants, just about ready to go to sleep. He was hoping for a message from you that never ended up coming. You knew right away was not a good time, considering the new news that he has a girlfriend.

"Hey, baby-" He calls from the kitchen, Kie quickly following his voice and storming in. 

"Don't!" She says angrily, throwing her bag down on the counter. "What the fuck was that, JJ? Who is she?"

JJ sighs and rubs his eyes with one hand while she stares him down. "I told you, she just moved here, and we met at the grocery store- why are you-"

"No! Don't ask me why I'm being weird about it. I saw the way you looked at her! Are you fucking kidding me? In front of my dad, too? God- JJ you are unbelievable!" She shouts, shaking her head at him in utter disbelief.

"Alright- alright." JJ holds his hands up defensively. "If we want to play that game, let's talk about that touron I know you hooked up with at the kegger. Shall we? Let's go all in." He snaps, crossing his arms.

Kie's eyes widen at this. "What are you even talking about right now?"

JJ purses his lips together and nods quickly. "Oh, well, Pope told me he saw you- so don't even try to act like I'm the crazy one right now."

"It was one time!" Kie admits. "I don't even know his name- I couldn't find you and I got bored. Fuck, like, I'm sorry but this is different."

"It is different! Because I haven't done anything! I've never cheated on you! I'm loyal to you, always, I loved you through everything! I saved you from that stupid camp, and then forgave you for cheating on me, I never even said a word!" JJ shouts now, gripping the counter behind him.

"Don't you dare throw that in my face." Kie says, tone quieter now as she shakes her head at him. "I never asked you to do that. Honestly, maybe it would be better if you hadn't, actually!"

JJ nods sharply, leaving the kitchen and huffing as he walks to their room, throwing on a t-shirt. He has to get out of here. He can't imagine even coming back. He doesn't want to.

"JJ, If you walk out that door we are done." Kie says, appearing behind him as he pulls his shoes on.

JJ shakes his head a little, quickly shoving the door open and walking out without a second thought. The fresh air feels like it lifts a weight off his shoulders. He's upset, but can't help but feel relieved. He walks down towards John B's rebuilt home that he shares with Sarah, which luckily isn't very far from their own new house on the cut.

Before he reaches their door, he pulls out his phone and opens Instagram, opening your account and sending you a message. 

JJ: how about that drive?

It surprises him when you reply within a minute.

Y/N: sure :)

The guilt has faded away almost completely now, and he'll burn the bridge of dealing with Kie when he gets to it.

highly requested part two!! hopefully this didn't disappoint! (i'm definitely disappointed in it but that's neither here nor there)

taglist: @taurusvic, @casualsludgeshoetoad, @maybankspov, @sagcas-latte

[writerblue275]

The One That Could Break My Heart (Chapter 1)

Inspiration: "Houdini" and “Break My Heart” - Dua Lipa and “Got Me Started” - Troye Sivan

Champion: Ezreal (Pilty/Explorer/FWB!Ez)

Summary: Your best friend (with benefits) has finally returned from his two months abroad, and the two of you pick up like nothing has changed. Or have they? (Gaaaah I’m no good at summaries, either creative or academic lmao.)

Genre: Song-inspired fic

Category: Fluff and SMUT-ish (18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Gender: Reader is ok with traditionally “fem” clothing like lingerie. Future parts (since I’ll be honest I’ve written like the whole story already) lean more towards reader comfortable with using she/her pronouns/are afab.

TW: Adult themes and suggestive stuff. Again, this is friends with benefits here, y’all. Swearing (no shock).

IMPORTANT CONTEXT: If you haven’t already, pause and go read my FWB!EZ headcanon (HERE). This story is set in the same “universe” as that and the headcanon provides important background info and context. It is easier to link that post than explain everything again in this story. Also, it’s likely that I’m taller than Ez, but you know what, sometimes I want to feel tiny so character is shorter than Ez in this one.

^ His smirk/nod to Kai’Sa was literally what got the wheels turning on this whole headcanon/AU in the first place. Look at him. Look at this cocky fucker. I love him lmao.

Key:

“Houdini” lyrics in blue

“Break My Heart” lyrics in orange

“Got Me Started” lyrics in purple

-“Center of attention, you know you can get whatever you want from me; whenever you want it baby.”

You sigh as you look down at the note in your hands, hating how your body has an almost Pavlovian response to this specific penmanship. Your heart speeds up and cheeks heat as you read through the words. The note on top of the three clothing boxes is unsigned, but that doesn't matter. You could recognize the slightly messy handwriting half-asleep.

"Come over later? Have the place to myself the next few days since the professor is away for a conference. Missed you. Here are some gifts to make up for my absence. Wear the green and bring the others."

"Looks like he's back...I wonder for how long this time," you muse to yourself as you contemplate the strange change in routine. It isn’t even the gifts. The appearance of a note and luxury clothing boxes are familiar, arriving like a calling card every time your best friend Ezreal returns from an expedition across the continent. The surprise is the change in location. Usually Ez just comes over to your apartment the moment he drops his things off at home, showers, and changes. He very rarely invites anyone over to the home he shares with his uncle when he is in town.

You quickly scribble off a response and send it off to be delivered to him.

"Of course, but next time, give me some more advanced notice, will you? Believe it or not, I can't just hop into the shower and be ready to go like you can. So, I hope you’re prepared to appreciate the effort. You're buying food, especially if you expect me to deal with your stamina for more than the weekend, Indiana Jones. Thank you for the beautiful gifts. I missed you too, E. See you at 7."

After sending off the note, you quickly flip through the carefully stacked clothing boxes, giggling softly and shaking your head as you confirm he, once again, sent you three expensive, beautiful, and lacy sets of lingerie, one in rich purple, one in black, and one in emerald green. You can't help but reminisce on the now-funny moment when he asked for your permission to buy things like this for you when you two first started your arrangement a year and a half ago. You smile as you remember his laugh at your confused expression. You had initially refused, saying you didn't expect gifts like that from him. It wasn't until he explained the upsides for himself that you finally realized it was beneficial to both parties. Hey…the man had good taste, that could not be denied. You stand lost in thought for a while as you finger the expensive green lace of the set he referenced in his note.

The sound of your mail flap draws you back to reality and signals the delivery of Ez's reply. Quickly, you go over and open the note, unable to hold back a laugh and an eyeroll at his response.

"But that would take away your surprise of being graced with my incredible presence again! As for food, I figured that would be a stipulation. It's on me. Also, when have I not properly appreciated your efforts? I take offense at the insinuation considering I actively contribute to your efforts through said gifts. Don't keep me waiting too long, princess..."

That fucking nickname...he knows damn well what it does to you. It started when you both were much younger, just innocent and teasing banter between childhood friends and he decided that was your nickname. Of course now, many years later, the teasing connotation still exists, but the innocence is largely gone. Between that and the other pet name he calls you when you’re alone together, “baby,” he knows exactly what to say to get what he wants. Then again you can’t really complain since you also want the same thing.

The rest of the afternoon goes by in a blur as you pack and prepare for your time away, putting on just a little makeup and dressing in a skirt and a white blouse that is very barely see through, enough for the green lace underneath to peek through, but easy enough to cover with your nice coat. Once you slip a pair of flats on, you make the shortish walk to the house in the lovely fall weather Piltover is currently having.

-"He’s got the personality, not even gravity could ever hold him down."

Soon enough you find yourself approaching the back door of the grand home. You're early, but you can't imagine Ez would mind much, especially if he’s alone. Curiously, you look up to his bedroom window, which also faces the alley. Sure enough, there he is, watching you with a massive grin. He even blows you an exaggerated kiss. Rolling your eyes, you flip him off, unable to keep from beaming as his loud laughter filters down to you through the window. It is a sound you’d missed desperately these past two months while he was gone. Knocking your familiar pattern, you wait patiently for him to get the door.

It doesn’t take long for him to answer. As soon as the door opens, his smug voice sounds near your ear as he leans forward. “That eager to see me, princess? You’re an hour early…”

Your heart speeds up but you just smirk and turn your head so your lips are very barely separated from his. “I could ask the same of you, Ezreal…seems like you’ve been waiting at your window for quite a while, and I wasn’t even supposed to arrive for another hour…not to mention the speed with which you opened the door. Miss me that much, Indiana Jones?” you murmur. You can’t help the satisfaction you feel as you see his pupils dilate a little bit as he’s affected by your words and how close you are.

The moment extends for a second longer with you two just smirking at each other before he takes your duffel bag, drops it to the ground, and throws his arms around you, burying his face against your neck.

“You know I did,” he says, his words muffled against you as he holds onto you tightly.

“I missed you too, Ez. Welcome home. I’m really glad you’re back,” you murmur as you wrap your arms tightly around his torso and bury your face against his shoulder. Eventually after a minute of just hugging, the two of you finally step back and smile at each other.

“I want to hear about your adventures, but maybe not all the ways you nearly died,” you muse, then laugh at how utterly ridiculous that sounds.

His grin just widens. “Well fortunately or unfortunately for you, I was invited to a dinner thrown by one of the council tomorrow night and since you’re my go-to plus-one, you’ll get to hear all about it, but that also include the not-so-pretty details. You know that’s all the society vultures want to hear about,” he says, grabbing your bag, leading you inside the beautiful home, and allowing you time to remove your shoes and hang up your coat.

-“I come and I go. Prove you got the right to please me.”

“So that’s why you invited me here instead of coming over,” you tease. “You didn’t want to carry a garment bag with a dress and shoes. Tsk tsk Ezreal you’re getting laz-eep!” Your teasing is cut short as he easily sweeps you into a bridal carry and moves up the stairs with you to get to his room.

His smirk is playful as he glances down at you and murmurs, his voice getting a little husky, “Careful, princess…you sure you want to finish that sentence? That’s a strong accusation. You of all people should know I’m not lazy. What did you call my stamina the night I got back last time? “Legendary,” was it? I seem to remember you throwing out that particular word after our events of that evening.”

You grin for a moment as he takes the bait of your trap to tease him, reaching up to play with his soft golden hair. That night had been absolutely mind-blowing, and he wasn’t wrong. You had used “legendary” to describe his stamina because that’s what it was. But, you’re not done riling him up yet, knowing you’re playing a deliciously dangerous game. “That night? Ez that was three months ago! How do I know the wait was worth it since you left? A lot might have changed in the two months you’ve been gone,” you remark with mock sincerity, internally cheering and grinning as he lets out a soft growl and moves a little faster down the hall to get to his room.

Once he’s inside and the door is closed, he immediately sets your duffle bag down before turning his focus to you. The second your feet touch the plush carpet he has you backed up against the door, his arms around your waist pulling you roughly against him, his nose brushing against your nose, and his lips frustratingly close to yours. He’s so close you can see just how many beautiful shades of blue the irises of his eyes have as they surround his slightly blown out pupils. He leans forward and ever-so-lightly brushes his lips against yours, barely making any contact at all before pulling back. As you let out a soft whine and chase his lips, he smirks widely and murmurs, “What’s wrong, (Y/N)? I thought you said a lot might have changed in two months, but it seems to me you’re just as impatient as ever. Not only that, but it seems like you still want me just as much. Am I correct?”

This clever man. He’s managed to completely flip the situation, instead winding you up like a damn toy. You can’t help but let out an exasperated giggle and a breathless “Fuck you, Ez,” before tangling your arms around his neck and kissing him hungrily. You playfully nibble his lower lip as he chuckles against yours, his hands going on a journey to reacquaint themselves with your body. Just like his initial kiss though, his touch is purposefully light in order to work you up even more.

“Ezreal, I swear to fucking God if you don’t touch me like you mean it I’ll never forgive you,” you threaten as your lips move down and nip his neck. You try to imbue your threat with at least a little sharpness, but there’s a thread of neediness that really undermines your intent so you decide to switch tactics. “Especially after I went through all this effort to look so pretty for you.” You give him a mock pout as your arms leave his neck and your hands start working on your blouse buttons, immediately drawing his eyes downward.

You only undo a couple buttons, enough for him to see just a little emerald green lace peek out before your lips move back to his neck. “Good choice with the green, by the way. You remember my favorite color after all this time,” you teasingly purr against him, knowing damn well he has one of the best memories of anyone you’ve ever met. “Finish ‘unwrapping me,’” you throw his own words from previous encounters back at him, “then I can thank you for the beautiful presents and you can show me how much you missed me, what do you think?”

You immediately feel immense satisfaction as he lets out a whisper soft “Holy fuck (y/n)…” under his breath as a reaction to your words, almost like he just can’t help it. As playful as he is, your best friend prides himself on his ability to remain level-headed at almost all times. As he says often, he’d have died many times without it. Being one of the few who can cause Ezreal’s control to slip, especially for this reason, is a point of major pride for you. Even the man himself gives you credit for your abilities to bring him to his knees, literally and figuratively, an honor considering his ego.

He kisses you deeply again before murmuring against your lips, “Legs up around me, baby. Got it? We’re going on a field trip across the room.” He presses himself even closer against you as he cups his hands under your ass to keep you stable.

You instantly obey him, giggling softly in delight as his hands squeeze you. You keep your arms wrapped around his neck as you wrap your legs around his hips, trusting him to support you.

You feel and hear his soft and affectionate chuckle close to your ear as you happily nuzzle his cheek while he carries you. “That’s it, princess…look at you, so good for me…I missed you so much, baby.”

You let out a noise of pleasure as his hands continue to squeeze and knead you. “F-fuck I missed this…I missed you so much, Ez,” you murmur.

Ezreal sits on the edge of his massive bed, keeping you in his lap as he gently makes you look at him so he can kiss you again. His lips are hungry, his hands tangle in your hair, and you swear you lose all sense of time when he kisses you like that.

Eventually he pulls away slightly and rests his forehead against yours, his heavy breathing mixing with your own. “Stand between my legs, princess. Let me undress you,” he very gently commands.

You eagerly scramble off his lap and do as he asks, moving your hands back up to your shirt to help him unbutton it.

“Baby no….I want to do it,” Ezreal murmurs softly, gently grabbing your hands and giving them a squeeze as he looks up at you with a soft smile. “You may touch me, but let me undress you,” his order is tender, his voice filled with affection, but it is still an order nonetheless.

“S-sorry,” you softy respond and blush as you quickly put your hands together behind your back, wanting to be good for him.

“It’s alright, baby…I appreciate how eager you are. It shows me how much you missed me,” he soothes as he reaches up and gently cups your cheek, allowing you time to close your eyes and lean happily into his warm touch. After a moment or two, he gently removes his hand and starts on your shirt, pulling it out of the waistband of your skirt and beginning to work on the buttons. It doesn’t take him long to have your shirt open in front, revealing more of the beautiful and intricate emerald green lace that was hiding underneath.

You love how dark his eyes turn as he takes you in. “As I said, Indiana Jones, excellent choice with the green. I adore it,” you remark teasingly as he lets out a soft growl of appreciation.

“Damn, I think I’ve really outdone myself,” Ezreal murmurs, almost more to himself than to you. He looks up at you as he gently starts to work on your skirt. “You look absolutely incredible, princess. I know you like the color, but do you like the style? Is it comfortable? Do you feel as gorgeous as you look, baby?” He asks, his questions filled with a genuine curiosity that makes you smile.

You nod, setting a hand on his shoulder to stabilize yourself as you kick your skirt away once he has it down your legs. “It’s very comfortable and I feel so beautiful in this, Ez. You know my style very well at this point, so trust me when I say I’m never concerned I won’t like something you get me,” you confirm, moving your hand on his shoulder to gently play with his hair. You love the happy little sigh he lets out as you gently massage his scalp with your nails.

“Good,” he replies. “I just want you to see yourself as I see you. Sexy, brilliant, witty, strong, and irreplaceable.”

“Y-you think I’m all that, Ez?” Surprise creeps into your tone as you blush deeply. His words are unexpectedly sweet and you can tell he’s being serious. It’s quite a change of character from a man who is usually so playful and teasing when it comes to your intimate moments together.

He gently wraps his arms around you and pulls you deeper in between his legs, leaning forward and laying soft kisses on the bare skin under your bra. He stuns you even more as he says, “Of course I do. And if I’ve ever failed to show you that through my actions, then I hope you will please forgive me.”

You very gently tug on his hair, making him look up at you before you lean down and kiss him softly but passionately. You just kiss him for a moment before murmuring, “Ezreal, there’s nothing to forgive. You’ve always believed in me and defended me for who I am since our friendship started almost two decades ago. Between your actions and words, you’ve repeatedly made it clear you believe what you’ve said. Sometimes it’s just a bit unbelievable to know I have someone as great as you in my corner to hype me up and make me feel so amazing and…well…desired. Self-love is just something I’m still working on.” You straighten yourself back up and hum happily as he returns his attentions back to your torso.

He murmurs against your skin, “Always happy to help you there, princess. Happy to tell you as many times, tell you as many things, and show you as many times as I need to for you to believe it.” His lips are now getting more and more passionate, including little sucks and nibbles.

You can’t help but lean your head back and close your eyes. “Let me guess,” you sigh with mock disappointment, “I’m going to get a lot of marks that I’ll have to deal with during the next few days.”

He grins against your skin before looking up at you, his chin resting on your tummy. “You know me so well, princess. I’ll try to make sure they’re not obvious,” he teases, completely returning to the playful lover you’ve gotten used to.

You look back down at him. “See that you do please. I’d like to avoid a repeat of last time. During one of the rare times both of my brother and I could make it to my parents’ house, he pulled me aside during dinner and asked me what the hell I’d been doing to get hickies on my neck and jaw. Hickies I didn’t realize were there, Ezreal. I saved your sexy ass, you know. He tried to get a name out of me. When he guessed you as a potential “suspect” I’m pretty sure I felt my entire soul leave my body. I had to lie and play everything off. Not an easy feat since I spend quite a bit of time with you when you’re home, and that’s something my brother is well aware of. Do you know how difficult it is to lie to your own twin brother?! He was ready to go on the warpath. I’m still not totally convinced he believes me that it wasn’t you, but you’re alive so he must believe me enough. Or he’s smart enough to know I’d kill him with my bare hands if he did anything to you. Oh, and also, disappearing for a few minutes at dinner only to come back downstairs with a scarf on wasn’t exactly subtle and my parents realized what was up. They didn’t ask me anything directly, but I’m pretty sure my mother said your name when I overheard them discussing it later on. My own parents talked about it, you fuck. You should have told me they were there,” you playfully complain and mock pout.

His grin turns more and more into a smirk and his hands continue to wander throughout your mini tangent. “My sexy ass and I appreciate your assistance in making sure I lived to see another day, princess,” he comments. “I’ll make sure to learn from my…mistakes, though you certainly enjoyed the process of getting those marks, if my memory serves me correctly. It usually does.” He winks at you.

This earns an eye roll and a sigh from you, even though he’s very right. “If you want to keep your mouth running, Ez, might I suggest you use it in a different manner on a different location? At least make it even more useful to me…” You let out breathlessly as your impatience starts to get the better of you.

“Tsk tsk, so impatient. I thought you were thanking me for the gifts first, princess,” he responds smugly as he undresses you the rest of the way.

You quickly undress him before gently pushing him to lay back on his bed, straddling him and leaning down so your lips are barely separated. “You drive me fucking crazy sometimes, you know that, Indiana Jones?” You whisper before nipping his bottom lip.

“The feeling is quite mutual, princess,” he whispers back with a wicked smirk. “Now come on…show me how much you really missed me…”

So you do. And he shows you how very VERY much he missed you in return.

(A/N: I’m so sorry, I tried to write this out as a full smut scene but it was just no good so fade to black it is for now. 🙃)

“I need something that will make me believe. If you got it, baby, give it to me.”

An hour and a half later, you lay completely satisfied with your head on Ezreal’s shoulder and hand on his chest, feeling his slowing heart rate thump against your palm. As you do, Ez is happily playing with your hair and gently tracing shapes into your bare hip with his free hand as your breathing and heart rate return to normal. You’re both just enjoying the feeling of being together again and savoring the comfortable and companionable silence you two have felt with each other for a long time. Well…silence until your stomach decides to make its displeasure at being empty loudly known. You feel Ez’s shoulder shift a little as he turns his head to look down at you as best he can.

“Hungry?” he murmurs softly, amusement evident in his voice. As he gives you the chance to respond, he gently kisses your temple, making you blush at the sweet little gesture.

You nod and shyly respond, “I thought we’d have dinner before we got to our…main events for the evening. We’ve been doing this for long enough though that I really should have known better. I’m just as impatient as you are.” You gently smirk up at him, enjoying the playful flicker of delight in his eyes.

A grin appears on his handsome face. “Come on now, princess. I know you’re smarter than that,” he teases gently as he carefully sits up with you. “What do you feel like having? We have leftovers, or we can order something to be delivered. Whatever you prefer.”

You think for a moment, biting your bottom lip. “I know this is probably a stretch, but do you happen to have any soup? It’s starting to get colder outside now that fall finally arrived,” you muse as you glance out the window on the far side of the room where the sun has already gone down. “I was thinking on the way over that it’s soup weather.”

Ezreal nods and murmurs, “Chef had the same thought. She told me she made some turkey and rice soup yesterday. She and the rest of the staff have the next few days off while my uncle is away, but she showed me where the leftovers were. I’ll go heat some and bring it up, along with some water. Knowing you, you probably haven’t had much today…have you?” He gets up before leaning back over you, bracketing you in with his arms, nearly nose-to-nose with you, a knowing expression in his eyes and a small smile gracing his lips. As close as he is, your body is already begging for him to come closer again, despite your currently exhausted and sated state.

You shake your head and temporarily hide your face in the soft blankets covering the bed and sigh. “God damnit we’ve been friends for far too long. You know me too well, Ez. Yes, water is definitely needed…” You peek back out at him over the blankets and giggle as you watch the smile on his face grow wider and wider.

He laughs and leans down, pulling down the blankets before giving you a surprisingly slow, tender, and deep kiss before haphazardly throwing on his pants and shirt and going out the door. He leaves you staring after him in surprise, heart fluttering, breathing a little shallow, and cheeks even more flushed after the intensity of that kiss. He’s been super…affectionate today. While Ezreal has never been an asshole after your moments together, neither has he gone way out of his way to….well to act so sweet either. Certainly he’s never heated up leftovers for you.

You shake your head, shaking away all those strange thoughts. I’m sure it’s just because he’s hosting me for a few days. And besides, wasn’t he talking about making sure his actions show me how he sees me? I’m thinking way too much into it! You happily sigh and get up, walking around to stretch your legs while you wait. After pulling on the bottoms of the emerald green set that Ez so carelessly tossed to the side earlier, you end up throwing on a shirt you pull out of his dresser as you check yourself out in the mirror on top of it. Usually he offers you his shirt when he’s at your place, but since he’s currently wearing it, this will have to do.

You shyly bring the collar of the shirt to your nose and inhale. A whisper soft noise of pleasure slips out from your lips, along with a smile as you confirm that yes, even after two months of him being away, the fabric still smells just like him. He’s always smelled nice. You don’t know what it is or what exact product is responsible for this fucking sorcery, but his “smell” has always been comforting for you. Probably because we’ve been friends forever, you think. It’s just one of those parts of him that has grown to be so familiar to me. You continue to ponder the matter as you hold the collar of the T-shirt up.

“It’s you in my reflection, I’m afraid of all the things it could do to me.”

As you look up to the mirror again, you jump a little in surprise as you meet Ezreal’s gaze in the reflection. He’s leaning against the doorway, just watching you with an amused smile as he holds a tray with two steaming bowls of soup and glasses of water. You let out a soft complaint as your cheeks heat and your hands immediately straighten out the shirt. “Damnit, Ezreal! How long have you been there?”

He just shakes his head a little and chuckles. “Just got here. And I wasn’t even trying to surprise you this time. You were just lost in thought,” he observes. “What had you thinking so much?” He waits until you’re settled back on his bed with the covers over your lap before passing the tray to you so he can also climb back in. He also pulls another tray from his night stand, carefully transferring one of the bowls and glasses to it so both of you have your own trays to eat from.

You watch him, waiting until he’s done before you start speaking. “There’s no point in lying. You already practically read me like an open book. You, actually. Specifically how surprisingly good you smell. Granted I haven’t been on a two-month-long excursion with you where there are limited bathing options. Trust me, I’m extremely grateful you shower and change before you come to my place/invite me over once you get home. But, anyway, whenever I see you, at least, you and your clothes smell very nice. I was also thinking about how familiar and…comforting? your “smell” has become to me. I guess that’s what happens when you’ve been best friends with someone for nearly two decades. It’s just one of those small things that becomes a part of you knowing the person.”

He nods, his expression thoughtful. “You’re right,” he observes. “I’ve never thought about it like that, but you also have what I would consider to be a “comforting smell.” Though, what’s interesting is how it doesn’t have to be static. It can be dynamic but still be definitely yours. Like today. You’re trying a new perfume out, yeah? Or at least one I haven’t noticed you use before.”

You’d been eating the delicious soup while he was talking. When that question left his lips, your spoon froze halfway to your mouth in surprise. “You’re right, actually, I am! Granted it’s in the same collection as the couple others I have so it’s not crazy different from the others I wear. Honestly that’s impressive, Ez,” you note before finally finishing the soup spoon’s journey to your mouth.

He gives you a victorious smile. “I knew it! I think a lot of it is the fact that we’ve known each other so long. I can just tell when something is different. By the way, the perfume, it smells good. I like it,” he remarks casually, causing you to laugh in between sips of water.

“Duly noted,” you acknowledge. “I brought the sample size with me so I’ll wear it tomorrow for the event. Speaking of tomorrow’s event, I’m imagining you also have a dress and shoes ready for me somewhere? Usually you send them with whatever “special” presents you’ve ordered for me, but I suppose since I was already coming over here there was no need.”

He nods and tilts his head to gesture towards his closet, a sly smile on his lips. “All good. It's in there with my suit, sugar baby,” he jokes. His unexpected tease causes you to lean your head back and laugh loudly, a genuine belly laugh that only a couple people, mostly him, manage to draw out of you.

“You’re a fucker sometimes, you know that, Ez?” you manage to get out as you suppress even more laughter.

He just grins widely at you before unabashedly stating, “Oh I’m well aware. But guess what? I’m your fucker, princess.”

Thank you for reading! Oh my GOD chapter 1 has been so much fun to write. I will say, this has hung out in my drafts for a little bit, mainly due to nerves, but I finally realized I just need to let it go and post it before I psych myself out completely. Chapter 2 is essentially written already, I’m just editing it a bit more.

[fitgirlfemdom]

hi! I’m just curious about something you mentioned about not being explicitly into everything you post - do you think it’s attracted unwanted attention? would you rather discuss non-kink topics on here as well? I think it would be cool if you incorporated some of the other stuff you’re passionate about (anime, music, etc) 🖤

The real me is not as sexual as this account displays. I've been celibate for half a year and I masturbate maybe once or twice a week for like 20 min. I still write and draw NSFW content, but that's for my main art account that isn't linked here (this isn't for privacy or anything--i just have art moots that probably don't wanna see fat bears eating cake on their timeline 24/7).

90% of the stuff I write/have posted about, I'm into, and I enjoyed writing, especially my longer posts! If I wasn't interested in something, I wouldn't write about it for free. The issue was messages in my DMs, especially near the beginning of this account. It's why I tried enforcing the rule that if you send me face pics, I'd block you, because a lot of the people that messaged me I did not find sexually attractive. Without a face, it's much easier to RP. Also because of the dick pics. Don't get me wrong, some of you guys had very respectable cocks but I can't deny that it made me feel gross to be sent them without my consent.

The worst part was actually enjoying talking to some of you, and then realizing you clearly just used me as a dumping ground for your fetish pics, without any consideration as to who I was. It was like my DMs were just "Send Photos of Your Gut to 19 Year Old Girl Here" without any personality, any interest in who I was. Just a nameless girl who you could imagine your fantasies with. I'd ask about your day or what you were interested in, and I'd get a pic of your gut in an office chair with "whoaaaaa just drank two liters of soda :/ so bloated rn." How do I respond to that? "Good"? 😭

I think the worst DM I got was a guy saying I was "in denial about being a housewife," which I mean, I've dabbled in misogyny kink content before. Bimbofication is literally on my profile. I've never brought up my feminist views or politics, although I would consider myself a feminist, since all people should have equal rights and freedom of expression. I also believe housewives can be feminists. There is nothing on my account about my political views, nor about my career or education, because it's not important to writing porn about feeding dudes cake.

When I brushed him off with a "Haha," he just kept going, paragraphs and paragraphs about how he wanted me to be his trophy wife and clean his shit out of a bucket??? You don't even know me??? And I never responded, but it really just made me realize--just saying I'm into femdom, no matter what it is, is seen as a political transgression to these people. I'm literally into gentle femdom and want a chubby hubby/wife that I can make happy and secure financially. None of my posts are "Women are superior, men should be locked in cages." Most of my posts are "I want a gym guy who enjoys my cooking and jerks off a lot."

I DO use female supremacy tags sometimes because I use dozens of tags, and that's on me. I just type "fem" and click the ones that come up. I've also written works that are VERY misogynistic, like calling myself a fleshlight or literally writing fics about me getting gangbanged. I feel like this guy just saw "femdom" in my username and lost his mind. By tagging my stuff like this, I honestly was asking for trouble to come, so yeah, I think I just got unwanted attention I wasn't ready for.

In regards to talking about others topics, I just figured no one gave a shit, and people probably don't, but I am very passionate about metal music and music history. I have a useless amount of knowledge about various 90s/2000s metal bands and music from that time. If I get asked questions about it, I'll answer, and I DO need to follow more people on this website, but my current answer is: I don't know, maybe. I'll see how I feel.

[bellaxgiornata]

Safe Haven [Chapter Ten]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5.9k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains violence, drug use, domestic abuse, smut, hurt/comfort, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers

a/n: Okay I didn't intend to get this written and edited so fast, but here it is. Please do not expect chapter 11 so soon because I know it won't be ready by tomorrow. BUT I hope y'all enjoy this one and I expect y'all will be screaming about something when you're done with it.... Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @loveroftoomanyfandoms @farfromstrange @rotscinema @1988-fiend @shouldbestudying41 @shiorimakibawrites @norestfortheshelbywicked @mattmurdocksstarlight @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @theetherealbloom @24hflower @mattmurdocksscars @schneeflocky

Leaning against the kitchen table, your two packed bags of luggage sat at your feet. Your eyes were focused out of the window, waiting for the car you’d called to come bring you to Dublin Airport. It wasn’t even that long ago that you’d left that very same airport to come here, moving into your sister’s house. It certainly hadn’t taken you long to fuck this all up. This was the shortest stay you’d had anywhere, not even making it two whole weeks before you’d had to run.

Megan had no idea what was going on, either. You’d gotten up when she did early this morning to her surprise. You’d wanted to have a coffee with her one last time. Spend every last minute you could with her before she’d inevitably had to get ready and leave for her shift at the hospital. She’d left about a half an hour ago and you had called the car shortly after. 

Eventually you spotted the black sedan rolling to a stop in the street just before Megan’s driveway. You sucked in a deep breath, holding it a moment before you sharply blew it out. Pushing off of the table, you turned and grabbed the handles of both of your bags. You dragged them both behind you as you made your way over to the front door, pausing to eye the house one last time. You could feel something clawing in your chest, begging you to stay, to send that car away, but you shoved it deep down. 

You were doing this to keep everyone safe. There was no other way.

You unlocked the door, pulling it open and setting your bags just outside of it. The driver of the car stepped out, calling out a greeting to you. You sent him a wave and a tight smile before you closed Megan’s front door, locking it and hiding the key under a potted plant just beside it. Grabbing the handles of your luggage, you dragged them down the paved driveway towards the car. You wondered if Birdy was somewhere in her house right now, watching you with some sort of triumphant smile on her face. 

“Beautiful day today, isn’ it?” the driver said as you neared.

It was a fucking awful day, actually.

Forcing another polite smile onto your face, you simply nodded. You pulled the bags around the front of the car, making your way to the trunk. The driver stepped towards you though, the movement causing you to pause.

“I can get those for ya, if ya’d like, miss?” he offered.

“It’s fine,” you answered. “Thank you, though.”

“Ahh, American, are ya?” he asked, his eyes lighting up at the realization.

“Yeah,” you replied.

You began dragging your luggage to the trunk, stepping aside as the driver hurried over to open it for you. 

“Were ya just here on holiday then?” he asked.

You knew he was only trying to make polite conversation, but you truly were not in the mood to talk. All you wanted was to get this flight over with, settle into that little cottage in that small English town, and maybe get incredibly drunk on some wine to forget about literally everything. 

“Something like that,” you muttered. 

You bent down and picked up your first bag, hefting it up and into the trunk. Taking a moment, you situated it in the small space so that you’d have room for the second bag.

“Are ya sure ya don’t need some help?” the driver pressed again.

You paused, shooting him a look over your shoulder. “I’m going to be honest with you,” you began, tone flat. “I’m having a shitty day and I’m not really a chatter. I’m quite content to toss my own shit into the trunk of your car and have a quiet ride to the airport. Unless, of course, you want to watch me cry or scream? Because mentally that’s about where I’m at right now.”

The man stood there, his mouth gaping open at your words as he stared back at you. After the shock of your bluntness wore off, he quickly nodded.

“S-sorry,” he muttered.

You shrugged. “Just being honest,” you replied.

He gestured back towards the front of the car. “I’ll uh, I’ll just be waitin’ in the car then, when you’re ready,” he said.

You sent him a tense smile. “That’d be great, thanks.”

The driver scurried off and you turned, bending down to pick up your second bag. You felt a little bad for your rudeness, but really, you didn’t think you could take the entire duration of this ride listening to him prattle on about the sun shining this morning and wonderful holiday memories. With a grunt you managed to get the second bag in, but it didn’t fully fit quite right. Groaning, you realized you’d need to take a minute to adjust both of the bags to fit into the smaller trunk of this car. Vaguely you were aware of the sound of a car pulling up a little ways behind you, but you were too busy fighting to maneuver both of your damn pieces of luggage around in the trunk to pay any attention. Not until you heard your name.

“Grace?”

Your hands instantly stopped what they were doing, your eyes going wide at the familiar deep Irish accented voice behind you. 

But that wasn’t possible because he was at the Garda station after having been arrested last night. He shouldn’t have been out.

“Grace what–are ya leavin' ?”

Your mouth felt like it had gone dry. This isn’t how you planned things to go. He wasn’t supposed to have been here for this.

Slowly you spun around, turning to face Michael behind you. He was standing there, his eyes focused on your bags in the trunk of the car. Soon they slid back up to your face, his brows pulling together as a deep crease formed on his forehead.

“What’re ya doin’?” he breathed out.

Your mouth opened and closed, tears forming in your eyes as you looked at the fear and the hurt quickly washing over his face.

“I thought–thought ya were stayin’ here? Talkin’ to me?” he continued, the sound of a car door closing behind him briefly registering in your ears. “Thought ya were waitin’ for me? Why’re ya leavin’?”

Movement over his shoulder caught your attention and you tensed. Birdy was stalking her way over towards the pair of you, a pleased look on her face.

“Let her go, Mikey, love,” she called out. “She shouldn’ be here.”

His face tightened in confusion as he turned, focusing on Birdy as she approached. She eventually came to a stop just a few feet behind him, her arms crossed over her chest.

“What d’ya mean she shouldn’ be here?” he asked her.

“I mean she’s a liar, Mikey,” Birdy told him, her eyes shifting to you. “Aren’t ya dear? Your name isn’ Grace, for starters.”

Michael’s brows somehow furrowed even further, the confusion only growing on his face as he looked back at you. “What’s she on ‘bout, Grace?” he asked.

Your palms began to sweat, your breath coming in short. She was going to feed him lies and he was going to believe every word of it, wasn’t he? Not only would you have to leave, you’d be leaving him with the wrong impression of yourself. 

“That’s not my name,” you answered nervously. Licking your lips, you uttered your actual name, noticing the way the corner of Michael’s lips twitched. “I–I couldn’t use my real name because–”

“Because she’s tryin’ to help that bloody Serpent biker gang in Cork get close to Eamon, that’s why,” Birdy said, cutting you off. Her eyes flickered towards the driver in the car before they returned to Michael, her voice lowering. “They need a supplier. Apparently thinkin’ they can send someone to fuck a Kinsella and get in close.”

Michael instantly was shaking his head at her. “No, you’re wrong, Birdy,” he told her. 

Birdy shrugged, her cold stare landing back on you. “If I’m wrong then why is she leavin’, pet?”

You sucked in a breath when both of them focused on you, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. This was your chance to tell them the truth. Maybe they wouldn’t believe you, but if you didn’t just get it out there you’d never know.

“Because you threatened to reach out to Victor,” you blurted, your focus on Birdy. “To tell him where I am. Lead him straight to my fucking door.”

Birdy’s eyes instantly narrowed back at you, her head tilting a little to the side. “Your fiance?” she asked.

“What?” Michael gasped.

“Ex -fiance,” you said firmly, eyes still focused on Birdy. “We haven’t been together in almost two years. I left him because he was–” your eyes closed, your voice quivering as you tried to continue “–violent. Outside of the Club.”

Neither Michael or Birdy spoke immediately. Your arms wrapped around yourself, gaze dropping down to your feet. 

“You–you threatened to alert the Serpents to me being here if I didn’t leave,” you continued, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “And if you’d done that, he’d have shown up and killed me. And my sister. And probably Michael for ever spending any amount of time with me. And if any of the rest of you got in his way, he’d have gone after you all, too.” Your watery gaze flew up to meet Birdy’s quickly softening expression. “You didn’t exactly give me a choice. I had to leave to keep everyone else safe. Because I sure as shit didn’t expect you to hear me out.”

“Oh, dear, I didn’–”

Michael’s hands balled into fists at his sides, a sharp exhale falling from his nose that somehow alone managed to cut Birdy clean off. He abruptly turned towards her, his body tense and his eyes hard. You swore you saw Birdy visibly shrink back under the weight of his stare.

“Ya threatened her?” he asked, voice dangerously low.

“I was only lookin’ out for the family, pet,” she explained quickly. “I knew somethin’ was off the moment she arrived. I noticed she was spendin’ time with ya. Gettin’ close. I wanted to make sure ya were safe, Mikey, love.”

Michael took a step towards her, his shoulders squared and his jaw tight. “I can take care of myself, Birdy,” he growled. “I don’ need ya watchin’ my moves and who I’m spendin’ my time with. D’ya hear me?”

“Of course, pet,” Birdy said, a nervous smile on her mouth. “Ya know I’d never do anythin’ to hurt ya.”

Michael took another intimidating step towards Birdy, your eyes catching the slight half step she took backwards. He looked terrifying, all calm and angry like he was, a fire raging just beneath the surface of that calm exterior. Not that you felt afraid of him, no. If anything you felt like the man before you could hold his own against Victor if he ever came around. Michael had often come across as quiet and a little awkward when the pair of you had been together. He’d been sweet and gentle with you, even lowering his guard and letting you see just a glimpse of that vulnerable interior he kept locked up. But seeing him like this was something else. He was fearsome. Formidable. Someone quite obviously not meant to be fucked with.

And here he was defending you to his own family.

“I hope to fuckin’ hell ya didn’ reach out to her ex, Birdy,” Michael snarled, posture still rigid and tense as he stared her down. “Because so help me if ya did.”

“I didn’!” she exclaimed, her eyes darting over his shoulder to you. “I didn’ contact anyone. I–I was goin’ to, yes, if ya gave me reason. But I didn’ know he was… hurtin’ ya, dear. I’d have never made threats if I’d known what was really goin’ on.” Her eyes flew back to Michael, something vulnerable shining in them back at him. “And ya know I wouldn’, Mikey. Ya know that’s the truth.”

He exhaled a long breath, some of the tension easing out of his body with it. Turning over his shoulder, he eyed you for a long moment, his expression slowly becoming more subdued. His attention quickly snapped back to Birdy moments later, a firm finger pointing at her chest.

“Go back home, Birdy,” he ordered. “Don’t tell the others anymore ‘bout this shite story. Or ‘bout her. Ya hear me? I don’t need the others pokin’ around her, either. Not right now. There’s enough we’re dealin’ with.”

Birdy opened her mouth to say more, but Michael immediately leaned in closer towards her, cutting her off before she could begin.

“Now, Birdy,” he growled. “Ya made enough of a mess already.”

Her eyes slowly slid back to you, an apologetic look crossing her features. “I’m sorry, dear,” she said softly. “I had no idea.”

She made her way back towards her still idling car with less zeal in her steps than before. Michael turned on the spot, briskly walking back towards you without a word. He reached into the car behind you, effortlessly pulling both of your bags out of the trunk at the same time. He set them down on the street before roughly closing the trunk. Then he pulled the handles of your luggage back up before his eyes finally landed on you.

“Ya aren’t leavin’,” he stated simply.

You watched in surprise as he rolled the bags around to the driver’s side of the car, pausing beside the now very timid driver. He reached into the pocket of his dark brown jacket, pulling out a wallet. After a second he pulled out a few bills and then pushed them at the driver through the open window. 

“Ya aren’t needed,” he said gruffly, gesturing down the street with his head.

You stood there stunned and speechless, watching as the driver quickly accepted the cash and then drove off. Your eyes were on the headlights until the car turned the corner and left the street. Slowly your attention shifted back to Michael. He was staring back at you, the handle of one of your bags in each of his hands. He looked vastly less angry now that it was just the two of you.

“Let’s get your stuff back inside,” he said. “Then we can talk.”

You nodded, making your way back up the driveway to Megan’s house, Michael pulling your bags behind him. Bending down, you retrieved the key back from underneath the pot and then rose to your feet, unlocking the door. You swung it open and stepped inside, Michael following in behind you. He made his way straight down the hall to the sitting room with your bags in tow as you shut and locked the front door. Then nervously you made your way down the hall after him.

You found him standing awkwardly beside Megan’s sofa, his jacket tossed over the armrest and a timid expression on his face. Something almost nervous. You stopped just in the entryway of the room yourself, your arms awkwardly crossing over your chest. 

“Ya were just goin’ to leave without a word?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“I tried to talk to you last night,” you began, the words just pouring out of you. “I didn’t know you were going to be getting arrested. I was planning to stay up the whole night waiting for you to come back from whatever it was you were out doing if that’s what it took to talk to you. But then I saw you in cuffs being put in the back of a Garda car and figured I didn’t have a choice but to run. It’s not like I wanted to do this.”

Michael ran a hand through his hair, his eyes focused on the sofa. “That’s why I hadn’ heard from ya in a few days, yeah?” he asked, still not looking at you. “Because ya were plannin’ to disappear on me?”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, tears yet again threatening to fall.

At the sound of your voice breaking on the words, Michael’s attention returned to you. Everything about his expression and his body language immediately softened in response. He crossed the space between you, drawing you straight into him without hesitation. Your arms eagerly encircled him in return, burying your face into his blue sweater.

“I’ve felt like an asshole all week,” you said, tears already falling down your cheeks. “I was going to leave Megan without a goodbye. And I’d been ignoring you– hurting you–and you didn’t deserve it. Especially not with everything you’ve had happening already.”

Michael’s arms held you tighter, his hands splayed wide over your back. He lowered himself to rest his chin along the top of your head.

“Ya were scared,” he murmured. “I understand why ya were goin’ to do it.”

“I wanted to talk to you last night,” you assured him. “I really wanted to. But then you had to leave, and you were arrested before I could have a chance after that.”

“Detained,” Michael muttered. “I wasn’ arrested. Was detained for questionin’ ‘bout a shootin’ last night.”

“Why’d they let you go so soon?” you asked softly. “Thought they would hold you the full twenty-four hours at least.”

Michael let out an amused snort, the sound taking you off guard and drawing the corner of your lips upwards.

“Barely been here that long and already know how the guards operate in Ireland, yeah?” he replied in amusement.

You shrugged, turning to rest your cheek against his chest. He still smelled like that smokey cinnamon scent and it was quickly relaxing you.

“Pretty sure they’re like that everywhere,” you answered. “So how’d you get released so soon? Or…am I not allowed to know that?”

“Seizure,” he said softly. “Or so they’re thinkin’. Guess ya were right ‘bout that the first night I met ya.” His hands began to soothingly run along your back as he spoke. “Need to see a GP to find out if that’s what’s goin’ on. But apparently they can’t question me after havin’ one, so I was released this mornin’. Have to reschedule their questionin’.”

“Mmm,” you hummed out, eyelids slowly lowering.

Despite the stress and fear of the past few days, and especially this morning, you found yourself feeling oddly content wrapped in Michael’s embrace right now. All you wanted was to stay like this, nothing more.

“Can we finally talk about what’s goin’ on with ya?” he asked gently. “‘Bout your ex-fiance and the fake name you’re usin’?”

A sigh fell out of you, your fingers tightening against the material of his sweater. You knew this was coming but you really didn’t want to delve into it.

“Ya don’ have to tell me everythin’ if you’re not ready,” he whispered, drawing his chin from off the top of your head and looking down at you. “But if ya have some sort of dangerous ex chasin’ ya down, I should probably know somethin’ to make sure I can help keep Megan and ya safe.” 

You drew back from him, shaking your head at his words. “Michael, you don’t need–”

“Ya think I’m just goin’ to let some arsehole scare ya and keep ya in hidin’?” he shot back, eyes narrowed. “Not sayin’ I’m goin’ to be a reckless arsehole myself, but I’m not leavin’ ya to deal with him. Not while I’m still here.” His head gestured to the sofa. “So can we talk?”

Drawing your bottom lip between your teeth, you chewed it nervously for a moment before you nodded. Your arms released their hold around his waist, his own falling down to his sides as the pair of you made your way to the sofa. You sat down beside each other, your thigh brushing up against his as you focused on your fidgeting hands in your lap. 

“I uh, I need to keep using the fake name still,” you began, nervously glancing up at him. “I can’t have Victor finding out I’m here so I can’t exactly risk using my real name.”

Michael nodded, a solemn expression on his face. "Who is he?" he asked.

"He's uh, what they call the Sergeant at Arms for the Serpents of Hell. For the Mother Charter–the founding charter," you explained. "They’re an outlaw MC. Running illegal drugs and guns across the US, but apparently they have a charter here that I didn't know about. Over in Cork."

"What's a…Sergeant at Arms?" he asked curiously. 

Your eyes dropped back down to your hands where they were fidgeting in your lap. "It's a higher ranking position in the Club. There's the President and a Vice President. Then the Sergeant at Arms. He's like a bodyguard to the President and an enforcer of the Club rules." You swallowed hard, your focus still intensely on your hands. "Oftentimes a triggerman. President gives a name, he kills."

"How'd ya get involved with all of that?" he asked carefully. "With him?"

"That's…sort of a long story," you admitted, looking back up at him. "Maybe one for another day?"

Michael nodded, a gentle smile spreading on his lips. "Why's he after ya then? Can ya tell me that?"

"We–we were engaged," you admitted awkwardly. "Like Birdy said. He wasn't–wasn't like that with me. In the beginning, of course. But he eventually became possessive." Your hands curled into fists in your lap, fighting to keep the memories down. "Easily made jealous. And his temper eventually came to the surface. Especially when he drank." 

You saw the way Michael’s jaw clenched at your words, the muscles twitching in his cheeks. He looked like he was barely containing his rage beneath the surface the more you told him. Just like when he’d been telling Birdy off a bit ago. You wondered what it would look like when he wasn’t containing it.

Eyes falling back down to your lap, you continued. "He took things too far one day and I–I ran the first chance I got. But he–he eventually caught me and dragged me back with him. A few times. And now I think I've finally pissed him off enough that he doesn't want to drag me back anymore." Your nails dug into your palms again, the cuts on your hands stinging in response. "I'm certain he's planning to kill me if he finds me again."

A shudder of fear ran through your spine, your eyes snapping shut. You were afraid of what might happen if you were to encounter Victor again, often having nightmares about it. You were certain you’d pushed him one too many times.

Michael's hand grabbed onto one of yours, tenderness in his touch. Your hands shifted until you were clinging to his hand like a lifeline in return, eyes still tightly closed.

"I won't let that happen," he promised. "I want ya to know that, Grace. I will not let him hurt ya."

You felt his other hand suddenly gripping your chin, carefully turning your face towards his. Eyelids fluttering open, you took in the warm and compassionate expression on his face as he gazed back at you. His hand slid up to cradle your cheek in his palm, holding you so gently like he was afraid one wrong move might scare you off. His thumb lightly stroked back and forth along your cheekbone as he held your gaze.

"And I want ya to know that I would never lay a hand on ya like that," he said firmly. "I'd never hurt ya. Never would want ya to be scared o' me."

"I'm not afraid of you, Michael," you replied firmly. 

You saw a handful of emotions flash across his face so quickly it was almost impossible to catch each one. Eventually a frown was pulling his lips downward, something like guilt lingering in his eyes. 

"Ya know what I did last night, don't ya?" he whispered. 

You did, actually. You'd seen the news this morning. Someone by the name of Caolon Moore had been shot when he'd been out at a bar last night. A man had walked in and shot him five times before fleeing the scene. Garda apparently assumed it was gangland activity.

You weren't an idiot. You'd been around this sort of life enough. You knew it was Michael who'd shot him in retaliation for killing his son–though after the brief interaction you saw between him and Jimmy and Amanda last night before he had gone, you had a strong feeling he'd been guilted into doing the shooting. 

"Yeah," you answered. 

The muscles jumped in his cheeks as Michael ground his teeth together. His lips were pressed into a thin line but you saw something hopeful flickering in his eyes that he was clearly struggling to fight back. 

"I did it," he admitted. 

"I know," you whispered. 

His lips were visibly trembling, his palm pressing further into your cheek. You leant into his touch, your eyes still locked on his. 

"I didn't want to," he breathed out. 

A sad smile slid onto your mouth, your own hand coming to rest over the top of his. "I know," you repeated. 

He swallowed hard at your words. You saw that hope mix with something else in his eyes as he held your gaze. There was something softer in them now, something affectionate, and it was taking over his entire face the longer you looked. 

“And ya still aren’ afraid of me?” he asked, voice barely audible with how quietly he’d spoken. “Don’t think I’m a monster?”

You shook your head slowly. “No,” you admitted.

There was a moment that passed between you both, one that felt like it lasted far longer than it truly had. Michael’s eyes were watering with unshed tears, his calloused thumb still brushing back and forth against your cheek. But there was a small smile slowly forming on his lips, one that was gradually spreading up to his eyes. You could feel the pounding of your heart in your chest as if his eyes alone were igniting some sort of fire in you. 

Slowly he leaned in towards you, his hand on your cheek drawing you in towards him as he did. You let him, your body willingly being drawn to him like a magnet. Michael lowered his forehead to yours, his eyes closing. Your eyes dropped down to his lips, aware of how close they were to yours now, closer than they’d ever been before. It took every ounce of willpower in you to refrain from leaning up and just kissing him, your pulse quickening in anticipation at the thought alone.

“What ‘bout Saturday mornin’?” he whispered, your eyes still focused on his mouth as he spoke. “At nine?”

Brows drawing together in confusion, you quickly tried to backpedal and make sense of the question. But the question didn’t make sense with the previous topic of conversation.

“For–for what?” you asked.

Michael huffed out a laugh, his warm breath hitting your lips and raising goosebumps on your skin beneath your sweater. His nose gently nudged your own and you felt like you were about to lose that battle with your willpower. 

“For that coffee, pet,” he murmured. “Can I take ya for coffee Saturday mornin’ at nine?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

His nose nudged yours again and your eyelids lowered partially. His lips were parted now, his breath falling into your own mouth with each exhale. The sensation was making you lightheaded, especially with the way your breath had started to come in shallower.

“Can I finally kiss ya?” he asked.

Your heart was slamming violently against its confines now, the anticipation of his mouth on yours feeling like a slow death in itself. 

“I wish you would,” you breathed out.

Michael didn’t waste another moment, his head shifting just a bit so his lips could gently capture your own. They were softer than you’d have imagined. Gentle and warm as he carefully and hesitantly kissed you. Seconds later his lips released yours, but your mouth instantly chased after his, craving more of him. 

His hand slid back from your cheek, making its way to hold the back of your head and pulling you more firmly towards him the moment your lips reconnected. Your own hand slid down his arm until you were grasping at his broad shoulders with both of your hands. Your fingers dug into his sweater as you held him, desperate not to let him slip through your own hands.

You were struggling to catch your breath between the increasing flurry of his lips on yours, gasping for air each time his mouth briefly left yours. The sound seemed to only further spur Michael onward, his hand soon lightly gripping the back of your neck and pressing you closer to him. Your arms wrapped around him in response, pulling yourself halfway onto him on the couch until your chests were pressed together. Fleetingly you wondered if it was your heartbeat thundering in your chest or his.

Michael’s tongue soon swiped along your bottom lip, wet and warm, and you eagerly allowed him to slide it into your mouth. Your own tongue greeted his, one of your hands snaking upwards to grip a handful of his dark hair. A moan slipped from your mouth straight into his own as you felt yourself quickly getting lost in him. His other hand suddenly grabbed your hip roughly at the sound, his fingertips brushing a bit of skin just beneath your sweater. 

The scent of him was filling your nose as his tongue continued to lap so sensuously against your own. Everything about him was driving you wild, and fuck how you wanted him right here and now. To tear that sweater straight off of him and take things further on that very fucking couch, especially with how you’d almost fled and thought you’d never see him again barely minutes ago. You just wanted to feel his hands and his lips roaming every inch of your body. Wanted to memorize every inch of his.

But this wasn’t the time. Especially considering how long it had been since you'd last had sex with anyone. And now feelings were involved. You didn't want to do the wrong thing, to act before thinking things through.  

Your hand slid down from his shoulder, pressing lightly against his chest. Reluctantly you broke your mouth away from his, gasping for air when you did. Michael’s shoulders were heaving as he tried to catch his own breath, his dark brows pulling together as he eyed you nervously.

"Did I do somethin' wrong?" he asked. 

You shook your head, one hand still fisting his hair and the other still splayed over his chest. "No," you answered. "We just–maybe now isn't the time for… that ."

It was a moment before your meaning registered, your eyes watching his expression shift as it did. He was grinning back at you, his hand playfully squeezing your hip. 

"Wasn’t plannin' to let things go that far with ya right now," he said cheekily. "But I understand."

You cleared your throat, heat warming your cheeks at his words as your hands gradually released their hold on him.

"Why don't I let ya unpack?" he suggested. Shooting you a sheepish smile, one hand coming to rub the back of his neck, he continued, "Because honestly I could use some sleep after yesterday and this mornin'. And I have a feelin’ once Jimmy is out I’ll be in a heap o’ shite with the family. So maybe we can continue this another time?”

You shot him a coy smile yourself. “The conversation or the other part?” you asked.

He chuckled as he rose to his feet. You followed after him, noticing the way his eyes followed your every moment, that delighted smile on his face only drawing one onto your own.

“How ‘bout I leave that up to you to decide, yeah?” he replied.

Nervously tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear, you ducked your head at his words. You definitely wanted to continue the other part later.

“How about I walk you out then?” you offered.

“That’d be grand, pet,” he said, his hand reaching out and grasping onto yours.

Fingers entwined together, Michael grabbed his jacket from the couch before you led him down the short hallway, passing the kitchen on the way to the front door. When you reached it, you came to a stop and turned towards him. He was grinning down at you already, that dimple visible just beneath his beard. You could feel your nerves swirling in your stomach as if a handful of butterflies had been released into it.

“I’ll see ya later, then?” he asked. “Ya aren’t goin’ to run off on me?”

You shook your head, smiling back up at him. “I’m not going anywhere now,” you told him. “So I’ll see you later to pick up where we left off.”

“Mmm,” he hummed out, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “And I’ll be curious to know what part of that you’re talkin’ ‘bout resumin’ later.”

You shrugged a shoulder innocently. “Guess you’ll just have to wait and find out,” you replied.

He laughed lightly, leaning down towards you and placing a simple, sweet peck to your lips. As he pulled away he whispered, “I’d happily wait to find out.”

He released your hand and opened the front door, your heart skipping excitedly in your chest as you watched him make his way down the front drive. When he neared the stone fence he turned, pausing to glance over at you. You smiled, leaning against the doorframe and shooting him a wave. The biggest smile you’d yet to see on his face spread across his lips, his hand returning the wave before he rounded the fence and made his way home.

With a sigh you closed the front door, making your way down the short hallway and back to the sitting room. You grabbed one of your suitcases and hefted it up into your arms, carrying it up the stairs and back to your bedroom. You set it down near the closet, wiping a hand across your forehead. Movement outside of your bedroom window caught your eye and your head darted in that direction.

Michael was standing at his bedroom window now, one hand on his curtains as if he’d been about to close them. But now he was smiling at you through the window. You grinned, taking a few steps towards your own window and shooting him a wave. He nodded his head at you before his hand released the curtains. You watched as both of his hands came to grip the hem of his sweater before he lifted it up over his head, tossing it somewhere in the room behind him.

Your brows rose up onto your forehead, lips parting in surprise as you took in the shirtless sight of him, the bit of chest hair covering his lightly muscled torso. When your eyes darted back up to his face, he shot you a wink before he laughed, and then his hand reached up and closed his curtains.

“I am so fucking glad I did not get in that car,” you whispered to yourself. “Fucking hell.”

[like-what-the-fuck-scoob]

Sorry for anon, way too chicken too send ya this off anon haha.

Anyways, love how u write eddie and saw that you need some soft reqs? I need sum of that sugar, but can’t write for shit so I thought ’this must be faith’

Back to the point; how abt Eddie asking his s/o if they’ve eaten? Or if they’ve brushed their teeth? Because he knows his bby forgets to do shit like that and it always bites em’ in the ass. I feel like he’s the type to take of his s/o s makeup if they’ve fallen asleep.

Or or; ’reader’ falls asleep as eddie hums and plays with their hair. Just straight up falls asleep in his lap like a cat and makes content sighs.

Cheers!

X🐇

I've Got You (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary - When you come home after a stressful day at work, Eddie does his best to help comfort you and tend to your needs. That night, when you can't sleep, he does something special <3

Content Warnings - Fluff, swearing, reader is stressed, reader has insomnia, mentions of food, crying.

Word Count - 1.8k

A/N - Anon, thank you for this lovely request. This is one of the most wholesome fics I've ever written, and I loved every second of it 💗 Enjoy ~

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6:30am. Your eyes fluttered open with a sigh, as you anticipated the long day ahead of you. Your job was tough, and today was no exception as you geared up for a 10 hour shift.

After a quick shower, a brush of makeup, and a spritz of perfume, you were ready to head out and face the day. Your boyfriend, Eddie, was still sound asleep in your cosy double bed, mouth slightly agape as his arms now stretched over the empty half of the mattress. It took all of your willpower not to climb back in beside him, curling up to his slim form. Treading carefully, you kissed his forehead lightly before quietly heading for the door.

/

Tired was an understatement. As you arrived home, you were absolutely shattered. Drained and exhausted, you flopped onto the sofa and breathed a long exhale, processing the stressful day you had just suffered.

"Ah! My sweetheart is home!" A familiar low voice from the kitchen snapped you from your thoughts, as you looked up to see Eddie coming towards you with a smile, his arms out stretched to greet you. Throwing yourself into his embrace, you wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your face into the crook of his neck, breathing a sigh of relief that after a long day, you were home with your lover.

"Hey, Y/N, are you okay babe?" Your boyfriend asked, his tone laced with concern as he squeezed you tighter.

You hesitated, before nodding you head slowly, not quite ready to admit your emotional state.

"Nope. Nuh uh." Eddie huffed as he pulled away from the hug, his strong hands on your shoulders as he set his gaze on yours. "You're not okay. Please, be honest with me sweetheart."

Your boyfriend knew you like the back of his hand. He could tell, you were stressed. From the moment you stepped foot into the house and quite literally collapsed into his arms, he knew. He always knew. And he wasn't prepared to walk away until you let him in.

"Uh, I'm okay Eddie, honestly I'm f-fine." You stated, your tone melancholy as you dropped your eyes to the floor.

"Y/N." His voice was sincere. "Look at me beautiful, look at me."

The brunette placed a slender finger under your chin, gently tilting your head upwards to meet his gaze once more. He smiled; a tight-lipped, soft, compassionate smile.

"I'm sorry Eddie. To be honest, i've had the worst day." You admitted. Finally, with the support of your boyfriend, you felt comfortable airing your hardships. He truly was your safe space. "It's just, everything went wrong and I was so busy, I feel tired and I just want to scream and -"

Your voice broke before you could finish. Tears welled in your eyes, as your lip quivered in a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. Eddie's face dropped as you buckled, his instinct to hold you tight and kiss the pain away.

"Oh sweetheart" Pulling you in, Eddie's long arms cradled you softly, smoothing your hair with his fingers as you laid your forehead against the fabric of his t-shirt. "It's okay. It's okay princess. It's over now, you're home and you're safe."

Relief washed over you, tears streaming down your face as you squeezed your eyes shut. As your boyfriend rubbed circles on your back, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. He really knew how to comfort you.

Wiping your face with a sniffle, you tilted your head slightly upwards to lock eyes with your partner. You cracked a small smile of appreciation, hoping your face could speak what your voice couldn't.

"I know." Stroking your jaw with his thumb, he leaned in to kiss your tear stained cheek. "I know, love."

You stood in each others embrace for a passing moment, cherishing this solace, before Eddie broke the silence.

"Did you manage to catch a break today?"

"Um, no actually. I was so busy, I worked the full shift."

"Oh love. I'm sorry, no wonder you're so drained."

"It's okay, babe. There's nothing I can do about it..." You breathed; a defeated, quiet murmur.

"Oh!" You heard Eddie inhale sharply, almost a gasp, as if he was experiencing a 'light bulb' moment. "Come here sweetheart."

Gently taking your hand in his, Eddie guided you towards the cozy armchair facing the television. Patting the seat, he motioned for you to sit down.

"That's my girl. You've been on your feet all day. Take a rest now my angel."

Leaning over you, Eddie reached for the remote, kissing the top of your hair in the process, before switching the channel to your favourite programme. "How's that for you?"

"Mhm. Good. Thank you baby, you're so good to me." You assured, smiling into your partners deep brown gaze.

But Eddie didn't smile back. The brunette furrowed his brows, lips pressed together, watching you with concern.

"Relax for me sweetheart, please?" Your boyfriend asked, doe eyed.

"I- I am relaxed Eddie. I feel really relaxe-" Eddie cut you off before you could finish your sentence, placing a delicate finger against your lips. You could feel the metal of his rings against your mouth, as he quite literally shushed you.

"You're not relaxed, love. You're tense, you're still stressed. Can I help you, Y/N?" He asked, though you knew it was more of a statement than a question.

Walking around you, Eddie stood behind your chair and placed his firm hands on your upper back.

"You're not even sitting back into the cushions, lovey. Come on, lay back and let me work my magic eh?" He whispered close to your ear, earning a giggle from your previously tight, dry lips.

Taking a deep breath, you allowed your body to sink into the fabric of the chair, whilst Eddie began lightly massaging your back and shoulders. In an instant, you felt the negative memories of the day fade away. In that moment, all you could focus on was your man's perfect, cathartic, oh so familiar touch.

Noticing your newfound sense of reprieve, Eddie began kneading your taught skin with a little more pressure, invoking a sigh of pleasure as he hit those tough knots.

"Oh my God, Eddie... this feels amazing" You gushed, tilting your head back in relief.

Humming contently against your hair, he continued to work his guitarist fingers over your tight muscles. You couldn't see him, but you could feel his smirk as he watched you fall further and further into bliss. All because of him.

"Sweetheart" He cleared his throat. "Have you eaten?"

Shit. You cast your eyes over to the sofa, the contents of your work bag spilling onto the fabric, having being tossed in frustration when you arrived home. Peeking out of the front pocket; your lunch box.

"Ah. Um, no I haven't. I was too busy unfortunately..." Your voice trailed off into a quiet mumble of disappointment, as you once again recalled your day from hell. At the thought of food, the sudden onset of hunger pains were enough to remind you of your chaotic shift.

Sighing wistfully, your boyfriend placed a hand on yours, squeezing your thumb around his caring touch. It felt reassuring. It felt kind.

"It's okay love, I know you've had an awful day."

Suddenly, spinning round on his heals, Eddie padded towards your kitchen, a plan forming in his beautiful brain. "Stay there and relax princess, I'll be back in a quick minute!"

And he was. No more than a few minutes later, your boyfriend emerged from the kitchen with a sandwich, fries, and a glass of soda. "Bettin you didn't drink anything today either huh?" He remarked with a smirk. "Bon appetite angel. Made with love, for my love." He bantered, with a cheeky grin.

As you tucked into your wholesome meal, you noticed that on the side of the plate, Eddie had even made sure to include a dash of your favourite dipping sauce in the shape of a heart. Your own heart fluttered, and you pulled your lover for a sweet kiss, softly pressing your lips against his own.

"Oh I could never get tired of your mouth Y/N, you're killing me!" Eddie remarked dramatically, punching a fist to his chest.

Giggling at your hopeless romantic of a boyfriend, you patted the chair next to you, hoping he would join you as you cherished your overdue lunch.

"My love, you never need to ask..."

/

In the pitch black of your bedroom, you listened to the sounds of your boyfriends snores beside you, as you lay on your back, staring up into nothing. You rolled over and checked your phone.

2am.

This was ridiculous, you needed to sleep. But your mind was too loud. You couldn't shut it off. Everytime you closed your eyes, memories of your stressful day played on repeat. So you lay, bloodshot eyes wide open, waiting for daybreak.

Your movements must have stirred the your sleeping partner, as he rolled over to face you, switching on the bedside lamp.

Rubbing his eyes, dazed and fatigued, Eddie sat up to face you. "Sweetheart, why are you still up?"

"Just thinking Eds. Can't switch my brain off..."

The warm yellow glow from the lamp illuminated Eddie's features. In the soft light, his curly hair fell haphazardly in front of his face, and he frowned slightly as he listened to your words.

"Hey, it's okay princess. Come here." Beckoning you to his lap, your boyfriend stroked your hair softly as you rested your head on his crossed legs. Reaching down beside the bed with his free hand, he produced a brown acoustic guitar, one of Eddie's newest purchases.

"Baby, what are you d-"

"I've got you, Y/N. Shut your eyes for me sweetheart."

As your eyelids fluttered closed, you breathed a long exhale, relaxing against the comfort of your favourite person.

As Eddie strummed the first string on his guitar, you felt your troubles melt around you. It was just you and him, and the vibrations of each note made you feel safe; grounded.

As you fell deeper into a state of rest, Eddie's familiar hum sent warm tingles through your achy body. In an attempt to help you sleep, he began to sing.

Wise men say, only fools rush in.

But I can't help, falling in love, with you.

His voice was almost a whisper, serenading you in a hushed, calm melody.

Shall I stay, would it be a sin?

For I can't help, falling in love, w-

Pausing, Eddie smiled as he noticed your blush lips slightly agape, muffled snores and deep breaths coming from your delicate and tired features, now buried into his lap.

Putting his guitar down quietly, your boyfriend placed a gentle kiss to your hair.

Looking down at his peaceful girlfriend, your hands around his waist as you slept, Eddie couldn't help but smile. There was nowhere else he'd rather be.

"That's my girl" He whispered, placing his palm on your sleeping cheek. "I've got you."

[hippolotamus]

Fuck it Friday 💕

Tagged by @daffi-990 @heartshapedvows Thank you loves!

Taking some inspiration from @spotsandsocks and @buddierights to share 4 snippets where the love is confessed from 4 previous fics. Below the cut to save your dash 😘

no pressure tagging @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @giddyupbuck @stereopticons @disasterbuckdiaz @elvensorceress @monsterrae1 @spotsandsocks @honestlydarkprincess @eddiediaztho @thewolvesof1998 @forthewolves @chaosandwolves @wildlife4life @spaceprincessem @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @loserdiaz @watchyourbuck @your-catfish-friend @statueinthestone @buddierights @the-likesofus @fionaswhvre @steadfastsaturnsrings @barbiediaz @eowon @911onabc @wikiangela @pirrusstuff @hoodie-buck @jesuisici33 @ladydorian05

Thеre are some things you know (but things you can't understand) 15.1k

“Buck. Where the hell have you been? I was ready to send Athena out looking for you.”  He continues to stand outside Eddie’s door, still wearing the same clothes as earlier and doesn’t seem hurt. Not physically anyway. Eddie will take that win for now. Otherwise, Buck looks wrecked, like someone ran over his dog.  “Earlier, when you said you thought I deserved better. Someone who could give me something like this… Like what, Eddie? What did you mean?” His voice is trembling and tentative. Eddie wants to scoop him up and hold him until Buck feels safe.  “Listen. I’m- come in. I can explain.” Buck stays where he is, rooted to the porch. “What did you mean ? I have to know. Please.” After all this time, the conversation Eddie’s been putting off is literally at his doorstep. He wets his lips and unsuccessfully tries to maintain eye contact. “What I meant was… fuck, there’s no easy way to say this. It seemed like Taylor was never around for you. Like everything was on her terms and, maybe I read it all wrong. Maybe it’s what you two wanted. I just- I thought you deserved someone that cares about you as much as you care about everyone else. I… wanted that for you. Like I said, maybe it’s how you two worked it out, and I got it all turned around. But… you should be more than someone’s afterthought.” Eddie shrugs, silently pleading for understanding. “You deserve everything, Buck.” They seem to study each other across the threshold, neither one making a move. Eddie’s stomach is in knots because Buck hasn’t left, but he hasn’t said anything either.  “You weren’t wrong.” Buck finally steps inside, closing the door behind him, arranging himself so he’s standing in front of Eddie. “And I hope I’m not either.” 

Could you love the ocean with me? co written with @shortsighted-owl 1.7k

“I’m glad you came here, to LA,” Buck says. “You and Christopher. Glad that you stayed.” “Me, too,” Eddie murmurs. “Where’s all this coming from?”  “I just- Eddie, I’ve tried to do this – to just live my life – with you nearby and not right next to me. Together, but not y’know together. Convinced myself for so long that I could make it work, make it be enough. But–” Buck's voice cracks on the last word, his lower lip trembling. Eddie hears the words Buck doesn’t say. He knows because they’ve lived in his heart and he’s never been brave enough to say them himself, or it was never the right time. But he wants to say them now. Needs to.  “I know,” Eddie tells him. “It’s never been enough for me either.” Buck looks at him for one heartbeat, then another, before slowly, slowly bowing his head until it crosses that line between them. Their foreheads press together,  so close they’re breathing the same air. They lay still together as Buck’s words silently hover above them. The minutes tick by, but that’s okay.  They’re almost at the precipice now, ready to leap together savoring this moment that’s taken so long to arrive. “I don’t think I know how to be me without you anymore, Eddie.”  Eddie cups Buck's cheek, using his thumb to sweep away the tear trying to escape. “You don't have to. Not anymore. Not ever. I'm here, just like I've always been. Waiting for us to be ready. I'm ready now.”

for the record 2.4k

The song comes to an end, leaving the needle drifting to the center and skipping on the inner ring. Buck bites the inside of his cheek, steeling himself to pull away if only because there’s no true reason to continue holding Eddie. Not like this, like someone Buck can keep. Except his body doesn’t appear to get the memo. Their hands stay linked and one of Buck’s remains fixed on Eddie’s shoulder. So he waits for Eddie to let go first, or move, or remind him to do something. But Eddie stays, too, lips parted and flicking his gaze down to Buck’s mouth, just for a moment. Just long enough.  Buck decides he can hate himself later for the words that tumble out next. “Eds, I– if I got this wrong can we promise to just forget it ever happened?” Eddie blinks once, twice, looking like he might bolt as the implication of Buck’s question hits him. Buck nearly corrects himself, ready to play the question off as a joke. Because this – slow dancing with his best friend and feeling like they are on the precipice of something – all has to be the product of his love-addled brain. Until— “I don’t think that’s possible,” Eddie whispers, sliding his palm around the back of Buck’s neck, pulling him in and claiming his mouth for a kiss that is everything Buck’s been hoping for. There are no traces of hesitation or doubt, only Eddie sighing, soft and content, like he’s been wanting just as much. Not that Buck only wants the physical connection. He’ll take any piece Eddie will let him have, but, truthfully, he wants all of them.

Whatever may come (your heart I will choose) 77.4k

“Uh, okay. What about?” Buck shifts, facing Eddie more directly. “Is this about me staying here? I know it’s been a while and I should–” “I don’t want you to leave," Eddie blurts out, like if he doesn't say them fast enough Buck will decide he actually doesn't want to be at Eddie's anymore.  “You- you don’t?”  “No,” Eddie confirms, shifting closer. “I don’t. I haven’t wanted you to for, well, since I asked you to stay in the first place. And, this next part is a little more difficult. You already know I’m shit with communication.” “That’s an understatement,” Buck teases. Smartass. “Listen, I don’t have some great speech planned or anything. I just- Buck, everything's better with you here. It’s brighter and warmer and Christopher loves you being around all the time. I’m better. And, everything got so confused with Shannon showing up, I couldn’t see what was right in front of me until I almost lost you.” Eddie huffs out a humorless laugh. “Three times, in fact. And the longer you stayed, the more I didn’t want you to go. I was afraid–” “If you said anything, it would all go away,” Buck says quietly, like he knows exactly how Eddie feels. “But as long as you kept it to yourself, kept pretending… it never had to end.” Eddie takes Buck’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “I didn’t want it to end. I don’t want it to end.” He leans closer to Buck, tipping his chin up, barely leaving space for air between them. “Tell me it doesn’t have to.” Buck’s fingers ghost over Eddie’s cheek, tracing down his jawline. “No, it doesn’t have to.”

[theoncomingchaos]

Jinbao Marries a Wife (Si Ming x Jinbao official novel) part 4 (Ch. 16-18)

We finally find out where Jinbao went and why....!

Trigger warnings and spoilers below.

@guzhufuren

Trigger Warnings: There is a really intense rape scene in chapter 16.

-Honestly, I think it's even worse than all of the Huaibao ones. At least with them most of the time when they have dubcon and rape scenes, Xiaobao was trying to rape and got raped back. Still not ok, but Jinbao's rape felt so much more brutal because he didn't want anything to do with Si Ming. At all. He was threatened into promising sex (Si Ming threatened to stop treating Xiaobao), then drugged and fucked while he literally couldn't move. The only thing he could do was scream and bite when Si Ming tried to kiss him...it's bad.

What happened next...

-Zhao Cai is best bro. When he finds out what happened the next morning, he is ready to kill Si Ming. He immediately gets Jinbao out of there even knowing that it will upset people with power over him, and sends Jinbao out of the city to his (Zhao Cai's) girlfriend's parents' place. They are wealthy and have spare rooms in a nice country home.

-Zhao Cai was absolutely fearless even when Si Ming went off on him. In the book, they actually fight and Zhao Cai manages to keep up. Su Yin came to break it up and then the discussion goes really similarly to the TV series.

-Xiaobao wants to know what happened, he is very worried about Jinbao, but no one will tell him. Su Yin is so worried about Xiaobao and fearful of Si Ming refusing to treat him, so he wants to brush everything under the carpet, basically hoping that whatever happened is an exaggeration of some small slight.

-Su Yin and Si Ming go to look for him, but Zhao Cai doesn't tell them anything. Si Ming finds him catching birds in the snow. HE DID NOT COME BACK ON HIS OWN.

-Si Ming is pretty horrible saying Jinbao liked it and that Jinbao owes him (for forgetting him) but at least Jinbao always stands up for himself.

-One sweet thing is that Jinbao kept the paper he wrote Si Ming's name on when he was a little boy. It was the proof he had that he had done what he was supposed to and now Si Ming would have to be his wife. He forgot all about it, but he knew it was important because he couldn't write anything else as a child and he'd held onto it so tightly during his fever. When he was lonely at the Jin residence when he was first sold, he would look at it often and he always had it with him in his pouch. (I think this is what was replaced by the bracelets in the show)

Overall:

Honestly, the childhood stuff and the set up from how they parted was so good. It feels like such a waste to throw in the rape so unnecessarily when there were so many other ways the situation could have been written. I don't know if the TV series will ever do this book, but I really hope they do. I have full confidence that they could fix this.