#my bad i got poetic again on tags

[sscremm]

why does physical pain hurt so much as an adult i used to fall face first down stairs and walk it off bc phineas and ferb was on

[dootznbootz]

opinions on helen of sparta being compared to prey animals? blink blink

*blink blinks back* Then immediately sits like this because of the question.

It's a good question that I'm happy to answer! It just makes me mad.... I sincerely hate the wording of "prey" being used to describe her.

SHE IS A VICTIM! THAT DOES NOT MEAN SHE IS "PREY"!

I can...see how people in ancient times may have used that word and still meant it in how she is a victim... but modern-day English-speaking people calling her that??? (considering how in different languages the word "prey" could have different meanings.) I'll just say that as someone who has been "prey" herself at one point, I REALLY hate that word as a descriptor. Just say victim or survivor. 👍

Honestly to call ANY victim "prey" is so fucked up. "Prey" to me, feels like "it's meant to happen." "Prey" are part of the food chain and so that's what happens. And to compare that to abduction and SA? Almost as if "that's our place"? It also kind of implies something being "eaten" or killed... Helen SURVIVES. She's traumatized and definitely needs healing and support but it's not like she can't find joy or peace ever again. Prey just feels so fucking gross.

Also, if someone calls victims "prey", I hope they know that Moose, Elk, Boars, Bovine, ZEBRAS, etc. are technically "prey". And these are VERY aggressive animals while still being "prey" for some other animals. And also that doesn't mean that "Oh, they're powerful! Clearly they should've been able to stop it." That's victim blaming :P

She is a clever, determined, caring woman who was ripped from her home for YEARS because Paris was a dipshit who decided he needed the prettiest woman in the world despite already having a wife. He didn't care about the fact that Helen didn't want to be there and was already married. He is so selfish that he will not let her go back even when THOUSANDS have died in the war! EVEN HIS BROTHER HECTOR AND PRIAM DO NOT BLAME HER! Granted, we do not know if Aphrodite would have let him undo their deal of "I want the prettiest woman" if he DID end up feeling bad for Helen and he wished to let her go home (I doubt it based on his personality though).

"Oh, if she is so independent/strong, then why didn't she just kill Paris and leave?"

AGAIN! Victim blaming!!! First thing, people who ask that have media literacy that is piss on the poor. You also have no idea about the political implications that would have happened if she DID kill Paris. She literally cries about staying there and argues with Aphrodite about seeing Paris, only to get strongarmed by Aphrodite as, guess what? A GODDESS WILL ALWAYS OVERPOWER A DEMIGOD. (This isn't Percy Jackson where he "killed" Ares as a 12 year old (Percy, you were my childhood, but that's bullshit.))

Even confined in Troy, she ARGUED with APHRODITE about going to see Paris! She is not some meek woman who just does as she's told with no pushback! She argued with a GODDESSS! Very few survive doing that!!!

She's not "Prey to fate", she's a "VICTIM of Fate".

[narcissusneverknewme]

the Earth will never be healed again until China starts producing stuff with a sufficient amount of genderfuckery again. nearly all of the most compelling stuff China has ever produced has featured a significant amount of genderfuckery. that and the gay shit. send X or whatever you fools say now

[rttlesnk]

man danger days is really the death of black parade. BLI’s colours being black and white? Gee’s red hair? Mikey letting his hair grow long and bleaching it? the bright colours? insanely colourful outfits and mismatched pieces? the whole message being about fighting and living and love and hope as compared to death and mourning? killjoys never dying? party poison being the direct opposite of the parader, full of hope and anger and LIFE? when they die, it’s heartbreaking but it’s for a cause, rather than being the event that starts the album it ends it? it IS the antithesis of everything black parade stands for. it’s bright and poppy and electric and loud but not in an angsty way, but in a fighting, pushing back way. they are unkillable but it comes differently than what you want. it’s divisive and a change in their style but GOD it’s so perfect and it still captures the whole message of mcr. don’t u see? it’s a perfect rebellion against their own image and society and expectations, it’s like the only way for them to have made something new was to absolutly kill the black parade and everything associated with it

[caffeinatedopossum]

If you do relapse, please be safe about it, okay?? We can't control what you do, but try to be safe as you can.

Thanks 💙 I will try my best

[my-coven-is-claudia]

every time i think about rose’s ending i go a little more insane

[deadbaguette]

[repost from an old piece]

Once a year, she will return. A daughter, into her mother arms once more

Dearest, Kore Persephone

The spring waits for you to return

[apocalypticdemon]

Having an evening where everything is just. Good.

[saintobio]

the perfect boyfriend, feat. l&ds xavier.

pairings. xavier, fem!reader genre. fluff, smut, established relationship, 18+ tags. petnames (bunny), jealousy, virginity loss, unprotected sex, cockwarming, slight dom/sub play, same timeline!xavier notes. he’s still my l&ds main until july 15th just kidding :’D i love xav sm he’s literally so bf material to me

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier who had a hard time expressing his feelings the first time he met you. he used to be a man of a few words—or, as you liked to put it, a very nonchalant guy. it’s not that he’s disinterested. in fact, every small interaction he’d had with you lingered on his mind all night. you’re all he can think about until he finally had the courage to confess to you one day, after saving you from a bunch of wanderers, and thinking he’d almost lost you. again. he just couldn’t let that happen.

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier who always responds to your texts and calls right after you press send or hit the ring button. he values your time and doesn’t want you to feel ignored after that one particular incident… when he fell asleep the entire afternoon and his phone conveniently died, only to see a number of missed calls and text messages from you the moment he woke up. he felt really bad at how worried you got, so he made a promise to always keep himself available for you.

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier who enjoys hotpot, and has made it a habit to suggest dining at his favorite hotpot place after a successful mission. it’s not just the spicy broth that he loves about that place; it’s also your care in serving him and arranging ingredients in his bowl. you were such a dream girl to look at.

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier who gets very jealous whenever you’d talk about another male colleague of yours. he wouldn’t say it out loud, but the signs are there when he starts showing that cute, grumpy face. he becomes very competitive too, asking questions like, “so, did you enjoy your time with him?” or “do you usually talk to him a lot?” and you figured that the best way to cut him off during his fits of jealousy, is to squeeze his cheeks and give him a soft, tender kiss, swearing to him that you are his and his only.

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier who makes it a routine to take note of the way other couples interact. and he’s specifically observing the man more than the woman. he has a journal called, ‘how to make my girlfriend happy’ where he writes about what he would notice guys typically do to make their girlfriends smile and laugh. one time, while he was walking downtown, he passed by an arcade place that had a row of new claw machines. the guy managed to get his girlfriend a stuffed toy, and in seeing how much the girl liked it, xavier invites you the next day for a claw machine date, promising that he won’t stop until he gets you the bunny plushie you wanted.

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier who loves it when you call him ‘xavi’, both casually and… sensually. there’s something so sexy about hearing you say “xavi~” into his ear, especially when you’re leaning way too close to him that he can smell that sweet scent of yours.

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier whose mind is as vast as the known universe. he enjoys talking about the cosmos, the galaxy, and the stars alike—sometimes, he’d even be poetic about it. and that’s why he got the nickname ‘galaxy kid’ from you. there are nights where you two would go to the rooftop, watching the stars while lying next to each other. for xavier, there’s nothing more peaceful than stargazing with the girl he adores.

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier who was extremely nervous on your first night, because you were his first the same way he was yours. he doesn’t want to seem inexperienced in the sex department, so he tried gathering learning resources prior to you spending the night over at his apartment. in his head, he had mental notes, a very explicit and detailed one, of the things he had to do to please you: 1) kiss you, stroke your hair, and lay you in bed 2) slowly undress you, continue kissing down your body, cup your breast, and trace your curves 3) spread your legs open, place his fingers on your clit, then play with your sensitive bud, gently insert a finger or two 4) deepen the kiss when you moan, guide your hand and make you stroke his length, while he pulls his fingers out and sucks his digits to taste you 5) make sure you’re all wet and aroused, place his swollen tip on your entrance carefully, bury his cock inch-by-inch and stop whenever it hurts you, then wait until you’ve adjusted before he starts rocking his hips back and forth. was it a success? of course! he had followed every step diligently.

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier who ended up asking for two more rounds after your first session. he thought he didn’t perform well the first time because he felt like you made him cum too fast. he just didn’t expect you to be that tight, like your pussy was swallowing his member, your velvet walls wrapping around his girth as if milking him of his cum. missionary was the perfect position to start, but for the second round, he insisted on letting you ride him so you’d find the rhythm you want. and boy, did he go crazy as he watched you move your hips so goddamn sensually. he couldn’t stop his hands from touching your body, kneading your tits, and squeezing your buttocks. “my beautiful girl,” he’d moan, half-lidded eyes staring straight into yours, “you’re so good at this, y/n.”

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier who finally learned what fetish means after personally experiencing one of his own. it was waking up with his cock still buried deep inside your cunt, his arms protectively wrapped around your frame as you slept soundly. or were you already awake by then? he wasn’t sure, but he could feel your pussy clenching around his shaft and he couldn’t tell if you were doing it on purpose. but damn, isn’t that hot? he’d think to himself, with his member growing harder the more he thought about it. “my bunny’s so naughty.”

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier who loves it when you pet his hair like a good boy. your hands are magical! he’d fall asleep in a blink of an eye when he’s laying on your lap and you’re running your fingers through his hair. during nighttime though, he’s an absolutely sucker for the more dominant version of you. the way you’d pull his hair, grab his chin, and even as far as playing with his aching member using the tip of your tongue. agh! you’re making him sin.

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier who has a knack for giving you small gifts and trinkets, like that pretty little ribbon he saw at a store. or that moon-shaped desk lamp. or that pearl bracelet with a bunny charm. his girlfriend isn’t just sexy, she’s also cute. so she needs to have cute things!

⋆｡˚ ୨ৎ bf!xavier who treats you like a princess and makes sure you’re always warm and comfortable around him. too cold? he’d be sure to bring his hoodie for you. too hot? he’d buy you the best ice cream in town. whatever you wanted, he would get it. and he never, ever lets go of your hand whenever you two are walking around. he just can’t let you wander too far off, afraid that he won’t be able to protect you if he can’t see you. he adores you so much, and his heart swells at the mere thought of you. because there’s nothing more precious to him than the first and only girl he’ll ever love in this world. you.

[satoruhour]

i can’t stop thinking about riding satoru while he’s laying down his hands behind his head and watching us with a smug face ahhhhhhh i’m pulling my hair out

a/n: i immediately turn poetic whenever i write for gojo idk why guys 💀 + combining with another request where anon sent this in and said satoru core, so real! / tagging @shotorus @hannzai @arminsumi @jabamin @hyomagiri <3

warnings: dom!satoru, fem!reader, i lay the praise on thick here n i could be projecting but idk, pet names, humping, clit stimulation, overstimulation, riding, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, creampie / breeding kink, brief consensual filming, n*sfw under the cut

you think that you’re not so bad on the stamina spectrum — you could hold your own against a special grade pretty easily even after getting beaten down in unexpected attacks, training with your students have kept you on your toes and alert despite your years, and satoru . .

oh, being with satoru has your stamina improving without even you knowing it. whether it’s pushing him away during tickle fights, smacking him hard on the back when he forgets about his students’ missions yet again, or letting yourself submit completely to him in the bedroom, it’s never just one round with gojo. the man was naturally fit and had his reversed cursed technique that he was basically invincible.

you? not so much, always struggling to catch up if your boyfriend wasn’t doing any of the work.

“s-satoru . . please, i need h-help,” you whine out, so so sensitive from the endless foreplay your lover had put you through for teasing him with raunchy photos. it wasn’t your fault he was gone for so long, sent to the rural parts of japan to exorcise a dormant curse — the signal was so terrible there that gojo couldn’t even text his pretty baby whom he missed so much, finally reaching his wits’ end and teleporting to a cell tower only to be met with your body stretched into suggestive poses with very little left to the imagination.

gojo swears he’s never seen beauty like yours before, like a breath of fresh air from the first time he’s got you in his arms to the photos he’s received on that cell tower. a mission has never been finished that quickly before; a teleport and one swipe of his hand, another teleport.

“you don’t want your lovely boyfriend to enjoy his time?” gojo pouts, hands spanning your ass and squeezing at the fat there. you moan at the sensation coupled with the drag of your clit along his thigh — his cock wasn’t even in you and you were already reduced to moans. “after you draped your body in baby blue and you already want to get to fucking?”

gojo has a little lilt in his voice that pisses you off because you know he wants to fuck you bad. you remember how riled up he was when he returned home three hours before, chest heaving and sweaty. you can feel the throb of his cock under you and the little noticeable shaky breaths, but making you beg, making you needy for him is his favourite pastime.

“f-fuck you, ’toru!” you stutter out, thighs burning from grinding so long into his leg that you don’t even know whether you’re cumming or not; all you know is the addicting feeling each time he tenses his thigh for you. satoru laughs, wandering hands leaving trails of fire along your skin as you gasp and grasp at his shoulders. he lets you, squeezing encouragingly at your waist and helping you just a little. a small smile spreads across his face when he feels your cunt twitch at his beautiful laugh, entrance clenching around nothing.

“soon. you’ll need to be patient,” gojo chastises, eyes flitting between watching your connected parts of smeared arousal and your expression of closed eyes and a pretty ‘o’  that catches the moonlight, “look at ’er,  just so wettt . .” the sorcerer whistles at the mess you’re leaving on his leg, juices flowing so sinfully that it leaves a clear sheen of reflectiveness to it. 

“c’mon baby, c’mon baby, you can cum for me, can’t you?” gojo taunts and you feel the need to answer him even when your own body is asking you to rest.

“mhmh, ’toru—” you hump his thigh harder, tugging his body closer as you settle for the most friction you can get against your puffy clit. because you’re leaking so much, the glide of your pussy is so smooth and sticky along his skin, chasing your high more and more until your words are choked out in a high-pitched moan — “satoru, satoru, s-shit . .!”

gojo coos at your unravelling, bumping his leg into your cunt repeatedly as you ride out your orgasm and by now he is hard that it hurts almost, but he’s focused on your pleasure. he licks his lips like a pervert when you tremble at the orgasm, carrying your leg over his just to see strings of your cum stick to your core and his skin, laying a light slap to your pussy just to hear the slickness.

“oi!” you call out, out of breath as you swat his hand away as he giggles and have to take a breather against your boyfriend’s chest, burying your face into his neck. but for as long as satoru have been teasing you, he hasn’t been getting any action and is desperate to just be in you, fishing his cock out from his underwear. it’s pretty as always, curved with an angry red tip that is aching to stretch you out and a vein that runs along the side of it; it slaps into your inner thigh as he pumps it with a low groan.

“can ya ride me, sweetness?” you let out a small sound of disagreement, littering kisses along his skin in hopes that he’d indulge you, but with his free hand, he’s tapping his tip against your welcoming cunt, emphasising the sheer amount of cum you were dripping with. below you, his toned chest vibrates with the moans at the warmth of your cunt, of your 

“’m tired . .” you trail off, before a quiet gasp leaves  you when satoru first pushes past your entrance. and though you’ve taken him so many times, his girth still surprises you to some extent, digging your forehead further into his collarbone as he pushes into your gummy walls. bit by bit, your boyfriend bottoms out in you but does anything but move and of course, it’s a ploy by the one and only. “you’re not going to fucking move, aren’t you?”

gojo makes a terrible ding! sound and snaps his fingers, prompting a glare out of you until the needy words come tumbling out of his mouth, “i want to see you ride me, baby, please.”

“weren’t you the one coming home like a sex-crazed mani— ah!” he knows he still holds control over you when he snaps his hips into you and you freeze up with a whine of his name, nails digging into the sheets and skin. “that’s cheating.” gojo simply hums, placing a kiss on your lips that you don’t reciprocate before the room falls into silence: he leans back, putting both hands behind his head before nodding at you — and because he knows it’s him, he carries the gesture with confidence with no break in his character of just how you were so goddamn tight and warm.

he grits his teeth before trying to relax, “d’you think my pretty girl can give me a show?”

obedient and defiant, you moan softly with a glower, “s-sure i can— lazyass.”

gojo knows you mean it with affection, letting out a small laugh before the moment is interrupted by the first lift of your hips. from where he is, he can see how your folds stretch for his thick cock and the lewdness of your expression, until you start a pace and the little pants that leave your lips hypnotise gojo into a trance. he watches your dazed features with a smug smile as you bounce on him, ass meeting his pelvis in loud slapping noises.

“satoru— s’full, s’big—!” mewling out, your hands switch from abs to chest to headboard, finding anything to anchor yourself to as you ride his cock that nudges all the right spots. each descent is bound to send you reeling, drool dripping from the side of your mouth with how you seem to get more and more intoxicated on his length — even when your muscles start to ache in similar places like earlier and gojo seems to break from the little humps from his hips. 

“s’too much, h-hurts, ’toru . .” you whine with a pout to your voice, eyes lining with tears at the overwhelming pleasure, groping around desperately at the hand that indulges you briefly. it travels up your body, around your nape and back around, playing with your lips—

“you can do it, baby, ridin’ me so well . . s-shiiit,” gojo praises with a trembling rasp, toying with your bottom lip before grabbing your face and forcing you to look down, “you’re making me feel so, so good, sweetheart—” squeezing his eyes shut for a brief moment and then back again to compose himself, “—look at how well you take my cock.” the obscene words drags even more moans from you coupled with the sight of your pussy stuffed full of your boyfriend’s pretty dick, so filled to the brim with so much cum seeping from your cunt.

your wonderment is what prompts satoru to tug you forward into a sloppy kiss, leaning back even more as you yelp into his mouth and your beauty is just what sends gojo into a frenzy. the smugness is gone, the teasing nature is gone, just grasping at pockets of air to moan out together as gojo takes the reins and slams his hips into yours. the sheer force of it sends you jerking more into his embrace, sharing a loud, pornographic moan before a multitude of profanities fall from gojo’s mouth.

“you’re just too— fuuck! too perfect, princess,” satoru whimpers, arms wrapped tightly around your middle with pelvis thrusting up into you that if it wasn’t for gojo’s strong arms, your body would be flailing everywhere -— he nibbles at the skin near your shoulder, trying his best to see where the base of his cock meets your ass in noisy, wet pap! pap! pap!’s, “pussy moulded just ta fit my fat cock, yea?”

satoru’s skin heats up when he feels you nod, babbles of “yes”’s and his name jumbled up together in drunken incoherence as he continues to impale you on his shaft. your thighs start to squeeze around his, your own hips grinding down to meet his halfway as you feel your high approaching.

“a-ain’t ya a good girl, hm?” the praise just keeps coming, whispered into your ear with hot breath fanning it and sending you in a delirious state, but gojo’s rhythmic thrust slows down as he grinds his cock into you and you tense up at the feeling of his tip against your g-spot. you jaw falls open in a silent moan, body limping into his once he abuses tha spot repeatedly in deep, deep thrusts, punctuating it in between every word—

“good. fucking. girl,” your boyfriend sounds out into your ear, a grunt between hisses at the way you clench around him, the way your pussy seems to flutter, “you. thrust. like. thrust. that. thrust. huh? thrust.”

“y—yeah, like it, love it, satoru—” you’re too far gone with these deeper thrusts before he switches back and knows you’re about to cum the hardest with the way your toes curl and uncurl. just one sneaky hand to your clit is enough to send you into mantras of his name and confessions — “love it, love you, loveyou, loveyou, ’toru” — body jerking at the overstimulation.

“that’s it . .” gojo says shakily even after he continues to ram into you, “attagirl, thaat’s my good girl.” by now, you’re reduced to nothing but a fucktoy for your boyfriend who chases his own high, proven easy by the sensation of your tight walls and the slickness of your pussy, rutting like a dog before he shoots his semen deep into you. even gojo is speechless, hips jolting into your cum-filled pussy with the need to breed: seed nestled deep into you while his weeping tip spurts out the last bits of his cum.

but gojo doesn’t pull out just yet, flipping the two of you easily and grabbing his long forgotten phone by the nightstand. gently with a smile, he pats your cheek, wakening you from your orgasm-induced slip into unconsciousness.

“baby, gonna take a vid, you okay?” you mutter out a small yes, cute little whimpers escaping your mouth when gojo slowly pulls out. “wanna spread your pretty pussy for me?” your hands obey before you even know it once you hear the start of the camera, fingers soaked with your combined juices as you spread your folds and he watches, entranced at the way your cunt pushes out his cum — and the way it seeps out of you, good lord — alongside the cockdrunk smile on your face.

satoru points the phone at your cunt, and marvels with a grin, “looks like she’s begging for more of my cum, yeah?”

[love-belle]

u dumbfuck i adore u !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which they're secretly together and one comment leads to the grand reveal.

or

for when you find out that it'll always be them. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - max's version!!!!!! i hope u like it <3 charles' version coming soon!!!!!! thank u sm for reading, i love you <3

≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱

*maxverstappen1 added to their instagram stories*

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 865,427 others

yourusername when maxverstappen1 irritates you so bad u have to go and reconnect with nature but he follows u there too

9,627 comments

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*this comment has been deleted*

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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, landonorris, danielricciardo and 988,728 others

maxverstappen1 rarely recorded moments of her not looking like she wants to bash my head in but i love it when she smiles ❤️

tagged yourusername

11,628 comments

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[eu-nicola]

sand part 2

summary: Rafe got a new haircut and that catches your attention

warnings: mentions of smut but actually nothing cus i’m to poetic

word counter: 2591

author's note: english is not my first language

tags: @juliwzy @sweetgoldwoman

The nights after the party passed in a blur, but the image of Rafe Cameron was still there, fixed in your mind like a tattoo that couldn't be erased. You had tried everything to get him out of your head: staying busy, spending time with your friends, even going surfing for the adrenaline that used to distract you from everything. Nothing worked.

On one hand, you were grateful that you hadn't seen him since that night. You didn't know what you would say if you found him or, worse yet, what you would do. But on the other hand, you wanted to see him. Now that you had crossed that line, that invisible barrier that had always kept your paths separate, you were consumed by the need to know how far you could go.

Every time someone mentioned his name, a knot formed in your stomach. On those occasions, you pretended disinterest, as if you didn't care at all what he did or where he was. But inside, curiosity ate away at you.

JJ and Pope had talked about him the day after the party. “Did you see how Rafe disappeared early?” Pope had asked, laughing. “He was probably too high to hold out.”

You had faked a smile and changed the subject quickly, but the truth was that Pope’s words only fueled your thoughts. You had been the one who had disappeared with Rafe, and even though the night hadn’t gone past that desperate kiss, the memory of it was enough to keep you up at night.

There was something about the way he had kissed you, like he was letting go of everything he couldn’t say. And there was something about the way you had responded to him, like you were finally admitting something you had been denying for a long time.

You tried not to think about it as you walked along the beach one afternoon, your bare feet sinking into the warm sand. The breeze was gentle, and the sound of the waves usually calmed you, but today it was no use. Your mind kept going back to him, to his face, to his voice, to how he had looked at you that night as if you were the only thing in the world.

You stopped and stared at the ocean, your hands clinging to the edges of your shirt. “What am I doing?” you muttered to yourself. Why couldn’t you just let it go? There was no future in this, you knew. He was a Kook, you a Pogue. Your worlds should never have crossed like that.

But they had.

And now, all you wanted was to cross that line again, to push the boundaries and find out how far you could go before everything fell apart.

You sat in the sand, hugging your knees as you stared at the horizon. Part of you expected to see him appear, his tall, familiar figure standing out among the shadows of the sunset. But he wasn't there. And, perhaps, it was for the best.

As the sun began to descend, you realized something: even if you tried to stay away, even if you tried to ignore what you felt, you knew that if you saw him again, you wouldn't be able to stop yourself. That night on the beach had changed something in you, and there was no turning back.

When you finally got up to head home, there was only one thing clear in your mind: no matter how much time passed or how wrong it might seem, you wanted to see him again. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, you needed him.

Your wishes were sure to come true, the heat of the party filled the air, a mix of laughter, loud music, and the sound of the waves hitting the shore in the distance. The lights of the torches illuminated the beach. You had arrived, trying to distract yourself, as always. But as soon as you set foot on the sand, you felt it.

You didn't know if it was a sixth sense or just your bad luck, but you looked up and there he was. Rafe.

He was leaning against one of the tables near the bonfire, surrounded by some of his Kook friends. His relaxed and confident posture made him seem completely oblivious to the chaos the party brought with it, but you knew better. You knew what was behind that facade, and that made everything harder.

His eyes met yours, and your heart skipped a beat so hard it almost hurt. There was something about that look of his that disarmed you, as if he could read every thought, every emotion you tried to hide.

You tried to look away, to feign disinterest, but you couldn’t. Your eyes kept coming back to him like they were drawn by a magnet. And the worst thing was that Rafe knew it. The slight tilt of his lips into a cocky smirk told you that he understood exactly what was going through your mind.

You hated yourself for it, for giving him the power to make you feel this way, so vulnerable and so exposed. But at the same time, a part of you wanted him. You wanted him to come to you, to take control, to end this tension that had been consuming you since that night.

You grabbed a glass of something strong from a nearby table and took a long drink, hoping the burn in your throat would distract you. But not even the alcohol could drown out the fire you felt inside you. Not when you could feel his eyes on you, following you as you moved through the crowd.

You tried to keep yourself busy, dancing with your friends, pretending that the music was enough to drown out the thoughts that filled your mind. But no matter what you did, you always felt him there, watching you. And every time you dared to look up, there he was, his eyes locked on yours, like he was waiting for you to do something, anything.

Your breathing quickened as heat crept up your neck. You couldn’t go on like this. You couldn’t keep feeling this way, like you were on the edge of something and he held the key to push you over the edge.

You took another drink, shorter this time, and set the glass down on a table. You didn’t know what the hell you were doing, but your feet carried you a little closer to where he was. Just a few steps, nothing too obvious. Enough for him to know you weren’t running away, but not so much that it looked like you were running towards him. 

Rafe noticed the movement, of course. His lips curved into a wider smile, and he left his spot by the table. He started walking towards you, with that relaxed confidence that he’d always hated and, at the same time, silently admired. 

When he finally got to where you were, the noise of the party seemed to fade away. He looked at you with that intensity that made your skin crawl, and you stood still, as if you were caught in his orbit. 

“Are you going to keep staring at me like that all night, or are you going to say something?” His voice was low, almost a whisper, but loud enough for you to hear over the music. 

“And what do you want me to say?” You tried to sound defiant, but even you could hear the slight tremor in your voice.

“Stop pretending.” His smile disappeared, and his expression became serious, almost defiant. “I know what you’re thinking. I can see it in your eyes.”

Your breathing became heavier, but you didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. Because he was right, and you knew it.

“Say it,” he insisted, taking a step closer to you, so close you could feel the heat of his body. “Admit that you want it as much as I do.”

You didn’t respond with words. You couldn’t. Instead, you stared at him, letting your silence speak for you. And before you could stop yourself, you raised a hand and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards you.

The kiss was like an explosion, a release of everything you’d been holding back since that night. There was no room for doubt or questions, only heat and the desperate need to feel him.

Rafe didn't waste any time. His hands settled on your waist, holding you tight against him as he deepened the kiss with an intensity that nearly took your breath away. It was like he was unloading everything he'd been holding back, and you did nothing but respond, letting him know that you needed him too.

The party continued around you, but it didn't matter. At that moment, there were only the two of you, two lost souls trying to find something in each other. And as your hands ran up his chest to his neck, you knew there was no turning back. You had crossed the line, and you didn't care where it took you.

The music turned into a distant murmur, a barely perceptible echo as your senses focused completely on him. Rafe didn't pull away from you, he didn't give you time to breathe or think; it wasn't necessary.

Suddenly, he stopped kissing you, just a few millimeters separating his lips from yours. His gaze pierced you like an electric shock. He leaned toward your ear, his voice low and husky, vibrating against your skin.

“Come with me.”

You didn’t ask where. There was no room for doubt at that moment. You simply nodded, and when he took your hand, you followed. His grip was firm, determined, like he knew exactly what he was doing, what he wanted from you.

He led you away from the crowd, away from the flickering lights and the bustle of the party. The sound of the waves grew louder, a steady, calming rhythm that contrasted with the chaos of your thoughts. You felt the cold sand beneath your bare feet and the brush of the wind on your skin, but all of that was secondary. The only thing that mattered was him.

Rafe stopped when you reached a secluded spot, where the darkness was thicker and the beach seemed to belong only to you. The moon hung in the sky like a silent witness, its light bathing his face in a pale glow that made his eyes seem even deeper.

There were no words, they weren’t needed. When his hands found your face, his fingers brushed your skin with a tenderness you didn’t expect. There was something in his gaze that completely disarmed you, a mix of desire and vulnerability you had never seen before.

Your hands clutched at his shirt, pulling him towards you, and when his lips found yours again, you knew there was no turning back.

The world disappeared as you gave yourself to him, every kiss and every caress erasing any doubt, any fear. His hands moved over your body as if he were memorizing you, as if he wanted to keep every detail in his mind. And you did the same, letting your fingers run over his back, his neck, his freshly cut hair that had enchanted you from the start.

There was no room for judgment, for the boundaries that had always kept your worlds apart. There, under the moonlight and the whisper of the waves, all that mattered was what you felt in that moment: the raw, intense connection, and the desperate need to be closer to him.

Rafe held you like you were something precious and fragile, but also like he wanted you with an urgency he couldn't control. And when his lips left yours to run down your neck, when his hands held you tighter, you understood that this was more than a whim, more than a simple attraction. It was something you couldn't name, something that consumed you from within.

That night, you lost yourself in him. In his caresses, in his voice that whispered your name like a prayer, in the way he looked at you as if you were the only thing that mattered. And when you finally gave yourself over completely, you knew that the line you had crossed no longer existed. It had been erased, swept away by the force of what you shared, leaving you in a place unknown but inevitably yours.

The night enveloped them in its blanket of stars and waves that whispered secrets. They spent hours there, away from the noise, the rules and the differences that separated them. The cold sand beneath your bodies mixed with the warmth of your skin, a reminder that you had crossed a boundary you didn't want to undo.

Rafe stayed by your side, his arm around your waist as if he was afraid you might disappear. You spoke in whispers, not caring about the time.

When exhaustion finally overcame you, Rafe pulled you close to him, and you snuggled into his chest. His steady, calm breathing was the last thing you heard before you fell asleep.

Morning came with the light of dawn bathing them in golden hues. You opened your eyes slowly, feeling the weight of his arm still on you. For a moment, everything seemed unreal, as if the previous night had been a dream you didn’t want to wake up from. But when you stirred, Rafe opened his eyes too, his slow, lazy smile making you feel an unexpected warmth in your chest.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice hoarse from sleep.

“Morning,” you replied, feeling a shyness you hadn’t experienced in a long time.

There was a moment of comfortable silence before he began tracing circles on your arm with his fingers, as if it was something natural, something he’d done a thousand times before.

“What now?” you asked, trying to keep a light tone but knowing the question carried much more.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, that mischievous smile appearing on his face. “What do you mean by ‘what now’?”

“I mean… last night was…” You paused, searching for the right words. “…unexpected.”

He leaned into you, his eyes locked on yours as his smile widened. “Unexpected, huh? You didn’t seem that surprised.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the smile that was struggling to break out. “Oh, shut up.”

“Shut up?” Rafe sat up slightly, propping himself up on one elbow as he looked at you in amusement. “That mouth of yours never stops talking, does it?”

You looked up at him, feigning indignation. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he said, leaning into you until his lips were a breath away from yours, “that you don’t have to say anything now.”

Before you could respond, he whispered against your lips, “Shut up, baby.”

And then he kissed you, his mouth taking yours with a tenderness that belied the intensity of the night before.

When he pulled away, just a little, he looked at you with that mix of amusement and something deeper that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. “You know, you talk too much. But I think I can get used to it.”

[bamsywrites]

And Comes Dawn pt vii

Pairings: Sauron/Halbrand x Reader, minor Sauron/Halbrand x Galadriel, Isildur x Reader

Summary: and why should a god be jealous of a man?

Tags: slow burn, pining, angst, SO MUCH PINING IN THIS ONE OKAY, isildur is a weird dork, arguments, clichés, sauron is a good dude 2024? maybe probably not. look idk what to tag this one at all

Notes: so this is 3.1k words. The other parts are all about 1.8 k. I got carried away okay. Feed back is welcome as always. I think I'm, as the cool kids say, serving dinner or something with this one.

“And at the very least, do try not to make any new enemies,” he smirked, eyes searching the elves. He may not know what it was he wanted, but he knew that he needed her for whatever plans he had. It seemed that his deception was working, that his words had an effect on her. He found great satisfaction in knowing that he'd deceived the one most set on his destruction, and he wondered how far this could go.

Would she fall for him? The irony in that would be too much. It would be too poetic, but the idea of it was delicious to think about.

He was pulled from his thoughts at the sight of you walking away. You were wiping at your eyes, and he wondered if you were crying and what would have made you cry. Perhaps you saw him and the elf and had taken his deception for reality. Your annoying habit of pulling forth old emotions reemerged once more. This time, it was guilt he was feeling. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt guilty, truly, for his actions. You were not a deception, not entirely, the feelings he had for you were the most real thing he had experienced in an age and he knew those feelings were returned by you - however maybe not as intensely. His feet were moving before his mind recognized it, and he was following you.

He followed and followed and followed, and yet you kept walking with your head down. Maybe you weren’t aware of it. So he called your nickname, yet you kept walking without wavering. He knew that he had messed up, that he had hurt you, when your name passed his lips loud enough that he knew you heard it and yet you continued to walk without a single sign of acknowledgement.

“Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath, his palms pressing into his eyes.

Closing his eyes proved to be a bad idea because now all he could see was your face. However, instead of smiling or laughing, he imagined what you would look like with tear stained cheeks and sad eyes. He made you feel that way, and it made his entire being clench with guilt. When was the last time he felt guilty for anything? He had murdered scores and scores of men, elves, dwarves and he felt nothing, but the idea of his actions making one mortal woman cry was enough to fill him with it.

It was an annoyance, truly, but he couldn’t handle you as he did most annoyances. He had tried countless times, and even by proxy, he couldn’t make himself be rid of you. You were, yet again, proving to make everything that much more difficult, and there was nothing that he could do about it.

~

“So you've not met any dwarves?”

“Nope, only elves.”

“That's incredibly boring.”

“Elves? Or the lack of dwarves?”

Isildur laughed, his hair falling softly in front of his eyes. He had a good, strong laugh that was contagious, laughter bubbled up inside of you as well, "l know my answer,” he leaned back in his seat, “But I await yours. You have met the elves, and I have not.”

You pressed your tongue into your teeth as you tried to think of a way to respond. You didn’t want to confirm any stereotypes that might be thought of you due to what your father did and you had heard truly magnificent stories about the elves of old, but you had yet to meet one that didn’t seem to regard you as little more than an insect.

“Are they truly that bad,” he asked in a whisper.

You shook your head,"It's complicated. There are some who are knowledgeable and kind, I am sure. But there are some who are arrogant and cruel. We are judged and punished for the actions of our ancestors just as you are rewarded for yours.”

Isildur nodded, quiet for a moment, “That was a lot more elegant than my response. I think it would be the lack of dwarfs. Their beards are much more impressive.”

You couldn't help but laugh again, “How would you know if you've never met one?”

“Well then, let me ask you. Are the elf beards impressive?” He looked at you with a cocked eyebrow, and a smirk played on his lips.

You pushed your tongue between your teeth as you tried not to laugh. Your cheeks hurt from the ones he pulled from already. “I don't think I've seen an elf with a beard.”

“Well there you have it. Elves are useless and boring.”

You couldn't stop the laugh that tore through you. “Beards are the metric for which we judge what is boring and what is not?”

“Mhm.”

“But you don't have a beard.”

“Give me a week.’”

“I don't have a beard.”

He narrowed his eyes as if you had caught him, “You have other things.”

“Other things?” You asked with a raised brow.

“I can not elaborate, or I will, yet again, say something so horrible and embarrassing that I'll have to get you breakfast in the morning to atone for it.”

“I would not be opposed to that,” you smiled brightly, which he returned.

His presence was a welcome one. He was funny and bright, kind and helpful. He wasn't polished like Galadriel, but he wasn't crass like Halbrand. It was refreshing. When you spoke, he listened, and you could tell his attention was on you and you alone. The conversation flowed easily between you two. You did not know how long you had been talking after eating a full meal of broth and fish and bread. You told him of your home, and he told you of his. It was a welcome distraction from the pain and insecurities that Halbrand hand managed.

You had, truly, thought you were special. To be noticed and protected by someone who was as strong and mysterious as he was handsome had been flattering. Anytime Halbrand gave you that flirty look and devious smirk, your knees were weak and your stomach became a swarm of butterflies but it was more than that, the forehead kisses and soft moments had lead you to believe that there were feelings there, that he had in some part returned the feelings that were becoming more and more apparent in your heart.

But his exchanges with Galadriel made you suspect that maybe you were not special. Perhaps he was simply a flirty man, and he had moved on to the next. You could not blame him, Galadriel was gorgeous despite whatever complaints you had with her character.

“I suspect my father would be opposed, however perhaps I could show you some of the great art Númenor has to offer tomorrow evening,” Isildurs voice brought you out of your thoughts and you were about to accept his offer when the sound of wood scraping against stone stops you.

“Is that an open invitation?”

Halbrand had pulled a chair up to your table and sat in between the two of you. He wore an expression that you couldn’t quite place, but you knew it was not a pleasant one. He leaned his elbows against the table, but his eyes never left Isildur.

“And you are?” Isildur asked, eyes narrowing as he awaited an answer. You attempted to answer, and you knew that whatever answer Halbrand would give would end in an argument. You saw it so many times with the old man on the raft, then you suspected it was boredom or hunger that led to his annoyance but now you were not able to place what would make him so mad.

“I'm her companion. We've spent the better part of two weeks together. I should be asking who you are.” His voice lacked the teasing tone or warmth that you had come to know from Halbrand.

“I'm Isildur, son of Elendil, the man who saved you. My intentions have been pure, I swear it. I simply treated her to dinner.”

“And breakfast and a moonlit tour of the city” Halbrands voice was cold, now leaning back in his chair and looking between the two of you as he recited the conversation you two had been having. “Perhaps next would be a tour of the finest beds Númenor has to offer.”

“Halbrand!” You felt heat rise to your cheeks, and embarrassed tears filled your eyes, quickly blinking them away. He had a temper and an almost overzealous need to protect you at times but that was what you adored about him, despite his rough edges he seemed to be a good man with a soft heart and brave soul. You never suspected he would insinuate that you would be so easy to take to bed, that he would levy such an accusation against a man who had offered you dinner and whose father saved your life.

Today, you seemed to be finding out plenty of what you thought about him may have been naive on your part.

Isildur wet his lips, his expression harding, and you couldn’t blame him for being upset. “I was actually thinking of taking her to one of the great libraries or a seaside walk. Though I'm sure whatever beds I could offer would provide more comfort, among other things, than any bed of yours.”

The tears spilled from your eyes and down your cheeks as you noticed patrons turning their heads to watch the conflict. You had hoped that Isildur would have been above falling for Halbrands' attempts to goad a response, but you were wrong, though you gave him more grace than the other. Isildurs honor was attacked just as yours was.

Halbrands jaw clenched, and his fist balled into a tight fist, “Perhaps, you would like to say that to me again, outside this fine establishment.”

“Oh I would indeed,” Isildur stared at him, his confidence unwavering, "I can repeat it here as well.”

You could tell by the way the muscles in Halbrands arm flinched that this sparring match would become physical without some sort of intervention. Your hand grabbed onto his arm firmly and squeezed, “Both of you, stop! Please, ” you turned your attention to Halbrand, “Why are you here?”

“Well, I've spent the entire day looking for you. I'm glad to finally have found you. I'm here to take you to the accommodations that the Númenorians have so graciously provided,” his attention stayed on Isildur, a strange battle of wits it seemed.

Who would break eye contact first?

It was Isildur. He looked at you and his expression softened at the sight of the tears on your cheek, “I can escort you, if you'd like,” The expression he wore told you that he was being true, not trying to anger Halbrand further but wanting to ensure your safety.

You spoke quickly, before Halbrand could make a retort, “I will be fine, thank you, though. I appreciate your kindness, truly,” You smiled at him, wiping the tears from your eyes as you stood up. Isildurs eyes followed you, and he nodded, but you noticed how he eyes Halbrand.

Embarrassed and hurt, you silently left the establishment and allowed Halbrand to lead the way to wherever it was you would be staying for the next 3 weeks.

~

He had, truly, spent the entire day looking for you. He didn’t like not having you by his side. For two weeks now, you'd barely been more than an arms length away from him, and today you’d been lost in a city. He felt fear. What if something happened to you? He couldn’t bear the thought of it, and he would lay the city of Númenor to waste if something ill had become you. As night dawned and he still had not found you, his actions began to get erratic, and his thoughts were getting the better of him. The only thing that calmed him was hearing your laugh.

Your laugh. He followed the sound and found you and the sight before him filled him with rage he had not expected. Someone else was making you laugh? You were blushing and smiling…because of this meager human? Did you not know that you deserved more than that? Did you not know whom you belonged to? You may not have known it, but he claimed ownership to your very being, and it was not something he gave up lightly.

He must admit the confrontation got more heated than he had wanted it to, the accusations that it would be easy to bed you had gone too far and he knew it the moment he saw your tears. That was twice, at least, in one day that he had done something to make you cry. He couldn’t stop, however, when this boy dared to challenge him. The idea that this Isildur son of Elendil would be able to best him was laughable, and he would find great pleasure in removing his heart from his chest.

Your touch pulled him from these thoughts and soothed the anger that raged inside of him. It wasn’t jealousy because who was he to be jealous of? The feel of your fingers on his skin, he could feel your pulse and the blood rushing through your veins. He found comfort in it and knew that you would not have him tear someone’s heart out, and that was enough for him to stop. The silence that followed your travel to the inn that would provide the lodging granted to the two of you (the elf, of course, had lodgings in the palace) was unwelcome. It made his stomach sick to watch you, lip still trembling and tears still falling from your lashes. He had done that. There was no trying to blame the boy for it. It was his words that had triggered the tears, and he could feel the angst that waged inside of you right now.

He knew it all started with Galadriel, the interaction on the stairs, and did not know how to ease your insecurities. He could not stop the deception. He needed Galadriel, and he needed her to be at his whim. He didn’t want to give up the tantalizing game he was playing with the elf, either. He could have you both, he had convinced himself, if he played the game right.

Once inside, he led you up the set of stairs and to your door. His room was right across the hall from yours. He wanted to speak and say something to you, but he didn’t know what words to say.

“He was simply being kind, Halbrand.” Your voice, broken and sad, ended the long silence.

His eyes closed as he turned toward you. He couldn’t bear to see the tears. He couldn’t bear to feel the guilt.

“He bought me dinner to be kind. He was being friendly, he’s curious about our home and culture. I don’t know why you’re upset that I may have made a friend.”

Friend.

That word triggered something inside of him. You thought that boy wanted to be your friend? He couldn’t help the scoff he made at those words, his eyes opening to look at you.

“You think he wants to be friends with you?”

You were about to speak before he cut you off, “Buying you dinner, walks around the city, sweet one, those are not friendly interactions. He is trying to court you.”

“And if he was? Would that be so awful?” He could see that fire rise inside you, the fire he’d seen when you talked to the elf. It was intoxicating, but now, to be on the other end of it, it was fueling a flame that had been burning since the night he first met you.

He took steps towards you as he spoke, “Are you so naive that you do not see my feelings for you? The way he looks at you and the way I do are but a mirror of each other. Yet, you still don’t see it.”

“I saw how you looked at Galadriel.” You had moved back with each step of his until your back was against the door.

“Galadriel,” He laughed, shaking his head, “The elf?”

He was standing right in front of you now. He could feel the heat of your breath on his face as he looked down at you. His eyes searched your own for a moment. “I truly have failed in showing you the feelings I have for you, sweet one.”

His hands cupped your cheeks and forced you to look up at him, his thumbs rubbing soft circles against your skin, “You have come into my life, and it has been a whirlwind ever since, you are unlike anyone I have ever known. You are strong and resilient and kind and caring. You are full of hope, and it makes me hope. After everything I have been through, after everything I have done, you make me hope. Hope for peace, hope for forgiveness, and hope for love. The elf wants me to return to a battle that I no longer have a desire to fight in.”

His thumb traced the softness of your lip, and his voice was but a hoarse whisper. “You must know that my heart beats for you and for you alone.”

His face moved until it was but a whisper from yours, his eyes taking in the small details of your face. The way you looked up at him was enough to fuel his desires for the next century to come. You were perfect, almost as if you were made just for him. He could tell from the way you watched him that you felt it too, this desire, and that you would be willing to submit yourself to him.

He was about to kiss you, his lips brushing yours when he hesitated. There would be no going back after that, and his hands were tainted in sin, covered in the blood of legions and his blood black with the evil he had committed. You were light and pure. You were good in a way that he had never been. Before he sought your corruption, it fed his desires, but in this moment, he could not bring himself to do it.

You made the slightest move forward to kiss him, but he couldn’t let you. His hand gently covered your mouth as he rested his forehead against yours with his eyes closed tightly. It was taking everything in him to resist, but he knows he must. With a kiss to your forehead, he leans down to whisper softly into your ear, “I do not wish my hands to taint the only perfect thing I have ever known.”

And before he can change his mind, he makes a hasty retreat into his room, leaving you standing in the hallway breathless.

[lainsshop]

I’m Your Man ୨ৎ

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Tags: angst(?), established relationship, out of character(?) n probably more..

Song: I’m Your Man - Mitski

A/N: i really don’t know about this one.. give me your thoughts tho!

Alastor is known as a huge narcissist, sure but you were the only one who got to see the “real” him, not only the real murderous side of him but also the soft spot he has for you. You made him feel.. weak?

Ever since you two got together, he view you as you were apart of him like an accessory but also much more than that, his lover. He absolutely adored you, you really accepted his flaw self even if he doesn’t admit he doesn’t have flaws.

He never wanted to admit to so many things cause he believes one second of him showing his weak self will make his enemies aware of that and it will put him and yourself in even more danger.

You were also the only one who got to see him in a vulnerable state, which is rare to be honest. Maybe he doesn’t wanna worry you, he really doesn’t but every time he’s in that state he would always come to you and you will listen to his words.

“You’re an angel, I’m a dog,” He started to slowly say as you two were in the hotels library. The door was locked, the sound of rain and fire cracking could be heard and a sweet slow tune next to you as you play with his hair and ears carefully.

“… or your dog and I’m your man.” There was times were he gets.. poetic in some way. Luckily, you knew what the meaning of his words meant.

He didn’t looked at you in the eyes. “You believe me like a God,” He continued. “I’ll destroy you like I am-” Oh, he could. He could easily hurt you in a second, he doesn’t tho. You being so near to him is like a risk to both of you cause he never hesitates to do anything. Like that night..

“I’m sorry I’m the one you love..” You see, you two met when you were alive, you were a lil bit younger than him by that time and he involved you into his weird habits like killing people, cannibalism, so much more and then your death..

Deep down, he blamed himself for that. That night, he took you into the woods to hide a body, usually it went well but then you guys got mistaken as a deer and the hunter got you first.. he looked at you dead body and then- he woke up in hell.

He couldn’t even process what happened in that exact moment so when he appeared in hell, he wasn’t surprised at all but then he remembered you. He genuinely thought you went to heaven but then again.. you helped him so he looked around.

“No one will ever love me like you again, my dear,” He finally looked at you as he grabbed you hand and gave it a small kiss. “So when you leave me, I should die.. I deserve it, don’t I?”

You froze a bit at that. You looked at him with a surprised, shocked and worried expression. “Al-” “I can feel it gettin’ near like flashlights comin’..” You wanted to tell him how much you meant you him, how even if he’s not the affectionate type or how much of a bad he is, you still loved him ever since the day you met but-

“One day, you’ll figure me out..” There was apart him that you really didn’t knew and he feared that. He feared that one day you’ll know more about him, more deeper about him and leave him. You knew his murderous way, yes but do you actually?

“I’ll meet judgement by the hounds,” A silent scratchy static could be heard as he said the last word. He was still smiling as he spoke.

“You always gave me love, you were never to blame after all, mon ange..” He looked at you with a bit of sad soft eyes as he cups your cheek and his thumb strokes your under eye.

The sudden sound of dogs start to appear outside in the rain. You two looked at each other as you had watery eyes trying not to get emotional or anything. There was silence between you two until-

“You believe me like a God-” A tear fell down your cheek. You suddenly hug him, not too tight, just enough to show him that you cared about him and you didn’t care how he really is.

He started to caress your hair. “I’ll betray you like a man.”

© LAINSSHOP 2024

[hoonvrs]

NOONA — 48: the ‘picnic’ date (+written 0.4k)

the last thing you expected to see when you opened your door was a soaked sunghoon holding a basket. 

before you could even get a word out he spoke, “it started raining half way here, now everything’s ruined.”

“quick come inside!” you leaned out for his arm, pulling him forwards inside the safety of your house away from the droplets, “can’t have you get sick on our first proper date.”

his dejection was evident in his posture, bangs covering half his face with his body slightly slouched. your surprised the basket is even still in his hands with how loosely he’s holding on to it.

you could see his t-shirt uncomfortably clinging onto his skin and his shorts starting to look ombre from the bottom being wet.

“doesn’t matter anyways, its all ruined.”

“look at me,” you cupped his face, forcing him to make eye contact, “nothings ruined okay.”

he huffed, looking everywhere else but at you, “yes it is. the rain is heavy and the park will be wet and i’m wet and-”

his words got caught in his throat, starting to sniffle as tears that lined his eyes start to fall as he tries to finish his sentence. arms coming up to wipe his tears with his sleeves whilst you stood there shocked.

you already knew sunghoon was a little sensitive and cried a lot, you just didn’t expect it now. 

“baby,” you sighed, pulling him into a hug, nuzzling into your neck letting his sobs freely spill out, “fuck the park, we can still have our picnic right here. as long as you’re with me nothing is ruined.”

“i didn’t know you could be sentimental.”

“shut up,” you slapped his shoulder, making him laugh, still trying to wipe his face, “come on, ill go steal some of won’s clothes for you.”

+

what was once your living room was now a makeshift ‘park’. the couch was pushed to one side with the coffee table on another to make as much space in the middle as possible, going as far as laying down a checkered blanket beneath all the food to really tie it all together.

soon enough, sunghoon came in wearing a white t-shirt and sweats that were a little short on the ankle but he’ll make do, “don’t you look cute.”

“why is jungwon so short, my ankle feels naked,” he slowly sat down beside you as you continued to set up taking pictures ever few seconds.

“genetics, too bad. i did a good job right? were basically in the park right now.”

you looked at sunghoon who was still silent, seeing him on the verge of tears again, “hey, no crying. you’ve done enough for both of you.”

“i just feel bad. i had everything planned and i checked the weather app i swear i-”

you leaned forward, silencing him with your lips on his. no one double blame you, he just looked so cute with his eyes a little puffy and cheeks flushed.

“you talk too much.”

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S. NOTES: THEY HAVE KISSEEDKEKWKW

SYNOPSIS: park sunghoon experienced love at first sight when he first laid eyes on his friends older sister. a series of sunghoon desperately trying to do anything in his power to get the girl and yang jungwon cockblocking him for funsies.

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[eri-pl]

I got to B&L with my reread. It has so mixed language for me… From the "and Luthien had sufferred more than any Elf" (hmmm, excuse me, but this doesn't sound trustworthy at all… dfw if you're reading this, please don't forget to breathe… it's fine... i got you) to some really awesome descriptions (there should be a name for this trope, compliment by reference?) and behaviors, to Beren being sassy to again more untrustworthy absolutes… It's all over the place.

Also, "fate touched her and so she fell in love" is technically not wrong but sounds jarring to me. But then, I do not like romance as a genre.

Also, LotR references / things referenced by LotR (I'm not sure). Luthien's hair and eye color have, if I remember correctly, the exact same poetic descriptions as Elrond's. Which makes sense, of course. Plus Beren has a Frodo-like moment of very explicit being given what to say. Anyway, Elrond is cool and deserves to look like Luthien. <3 And it probably freaks everyone out. :)

More when I do the reread post (but first, Sudden Flame).

PS: [question inspired by cleaning some of my tag overload] does anyone know (and wants to tell me) why the West is, well, in the West? Is this a British folklore thing? (I don't think Jirt would be petty enough to do "Asia bad" or similar reason)