#no like seriously i felt so happy seeing so many notifs

[cerezasefimeras]

it honestly makes my heart melt seeing so much engagement in my first drabble but at the same time i feel so shy posting in tumblr...

although i have many drabbles and hcs ideas i want to write and post..

PRETTY BOY WHO TELLS PRETTY LIES

virgin!RINDOUx gn!reader, nsfw ⸺Rindou, has been sending messages and talking so much about all the things he would do to you, how badly he wants to take you… but when the moment comes, it's the total opposite CW: submissive!rindou, (implied) trashy!reader, , meany!reader, overstimulation, implied mindfuck!rindou, oral (male recieving), WC: 404 words. pd: this was going to be a one shot but your girl was struggling, so i hope this is still good ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა pd2: it's my first time writing smut in English, I swear my Spanish smuts are so much better. ): (And also, please tell me ways to improve, i love writing and i would love to write more often here…)

Rindou was pretty. Even with his eyes rolling back, his head red from embarrassment and the lack of air your chunky belt was allowing in, with how his whimpers and cries increases the moment you pull your mouth away of his cock denying him once more of another orgasm… he was still pretty, fuck, you’ll even say this make him more adorable. You both share a look, his eyes glimmering with inexperience desire and yours full with hunger, his lips slightly open trying to say something coherent, to use his pretty manners to ask for a simple orgasm, he knew he had lied to you but doing this to him was so unfair…

— ‘Please, y/n… please…’ — He whines in a broken grunt, you smile innocently tilting your head to the side, fingers slowly caressing his upper thigh delighted at the view of his dick twitching painfully. — ‘Ah-ah… I wanna have my fun with ya’’ — The reply just made him whine even harder, it was pathetic really… This was the same guy that was oh so confident that was going to rock your world, give you orgasm after orgasm… but when the time came and you were already fully naked in his bed you realized that Mr popular younger Haitani… was a virgin.

And honestly, if could have been nice and teach him how to fuck and please… but with the possibility of being able to make this man go insane, taking every single one of his first… it was more fun this way. Hearing his cries while your head pumps up and down his thick erection, seeing his body react at the minimal touch for more, watching him struggle to obey the (not so) simple command of ‘no touching without permission.’ It was making you so wet, it was worth it.

— ‘Come on…, fuck. Slow down.’ — The little whimper makes you raise your eyes towards Rindou — ‘O-or just fuck me, but please y/n i need it.’ — He begs after seeing those addictive eyes looking at him again, you giggle around his length making him tremble, feeling his pelvis tickling. — ‘I cannot hold it anymore… y/n- i'm sorry for lying, yeah? but- o-oh fuck, please.’ — His deep voice being so high pitched and needy was so adorable. Honestly, you wanted to break him but he was making you so soft that it was difficult to achieve that.

Would you let him cum?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤcreds to: @cerezasefimeras

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐁𝐘𝐀𝐊 ✮ FLORIAN WIRTZ

summary. it’s kind of pathetic the way the two of you always come crawling back to each other.

warnings. emotional warfare. florian is down bad. light smut but heavy feelings. florian is lowkey pathetic in this. 18+

gabri speaks! unfortunately i am a florian girlie. anyways i’m back! heavily inspired by byak by alvaro diaz ft. rauw alejandro.

THE CROWD GROANS as florian hits the crossbar for the second time that night. the camera man makes sure to zoom in on him as his hands go up in frustration. florian stares at the goalkeeper in disbelief as he runs back into his position. another missed chance, another bad rating, another night of him stressing himself out. if there was one person in all of germany that night happy about his performance it was you.

your relationship with the player was controversial, what was once a promising relationship had turned sour, and quickly. the two of you had mutually decided that a committed relationship wasn’t in the cards for either of you. it had grown toxic to the point where you’d flirt with his teammates on purpose to provoke him which worked because you’d always end up in his bed and never in a foreign room. in fact you couldn’t quite remember when was the last time you had hooked up with anyone else.

meanwhile the brunette found himself staring at his phone on the ride home. chatter and music filled the team bus yet only one thing clouded his mind, did you watch the match? he was hoping a teasing message of yours would already be in his notifications, and when he saw there’s wasn’t one he sighed. as his teammates argued over their errors and mistakes he couldn’t help opening the messages between the two of you. the countless deleted messages and hidden pictures as well as the timed ones made him remember the many nights the two of you would spend on the phone.

the sound of your voice filled his head and when he saw you were online he immediately turned off his phone. was it possible you had finally gotten tired of your messed up relationship?

“bro, are you okay?” kai asked seeing the state his teammate was in. florian’s leg was bouncing and his demeanor had changed dramatically.

“i’m fine, thanks.” he offered him a curt smile before staring out the window again.

he wasn’t fine, he was far from fine, in fact he felt worse than he did after missing the goal. he’s not sure why but as soon as the team arrives back to the hotel he’s on his way to your flat. he makes a quick stop at the chinese place the two of you like beforehand making sure he doesn’t show up empty handed. it was already pathetic enough that he was showing up past midnight he could at least make up an excuse with the food.

he hopes the black hoodie he wore is enough to hide his identity from bystanders. although with all the pacing he does outside your hallway he hopes no one thinks he’s a robber. as he adjusts his hoodie he can’t help but think, why am i so nervous? after all it’s not the first time he knocks on your door at these hours.

“do you hate me?” is the first thing you hear as you open the door.

you study his frame and notice his disheveled hair and the training kit from the national team. you’ve never seen him so disorganized and upset — if that was the right word to use — you were amused. as his face grows concerned with your lack of answer you notice the takeout he has in his hands. the poor guy was either desperate or he had lost his mind. both of which could be true.

“what the fuck florian?” you look at him weird as you question him.

“you didn’t text me today.” he says as if that simple sentence answered your question.

“so what? i don’t text you every other week and you never show up at my apartment with food. what’s going on?” you’re even more confused than before.

“you always text me after a game.” he tries to explain like it’s the most logical thing ever.

you can’t help the half scoff and half laugh you let out. he couldn’t be serious right now. was he seriously at your apartment past midnight because he was freaking out over a message?

“okay seriously you need to get a girlfriend you’re starting to creep me out.” you joke.

“you say that while you’re wearing my jersey.” he l doesn’t even need you to turn around to know that you were wearing the leverkusen jersey he had gifted you months ago.

there’s a moment of silence between the two of you it’s entrancing. you stare at him and realize he’d made his way over to you immediately after the game. all because he was waiting for your message. meanwhile there’s something about you wearing his jersey for casually that makes you all more enchanting to him. there’s a mutual look between the two of you and in the blink of an eye his hands are on your waist, yours on his jaw, and his lips are on yours.

it’s poetic really the way he closes your door as he pushes you into your apartment and drops the takeout on your coffee table in the process. your hands already digging into his hair and his hold you tight as he carried you into your room. it’s all muscle memory. the darkness of your bedroom adds to the feeling of having him so close to you again.

“i think i-” he pauses not wanting to be so vulnerable in this predicament but you know what he wants to say. you freeze.

“florian you know i can’t. it didn’t work out the first time. i can’t do it again.” you grab his jaw making sure the two of you are making eye contact. his brown eyes captivate yours.

“i can’t either but i can’t live without you.” he whispers the end. “it will always be you.”

you drag his hand towards the waistband of your shorts. it would always be him too. the only person that consumed your every thoughts and the only person you were worried about getting hurt was him. always. you look into his eyes as he drags his fingers to your core and sigh as he begins to tease you. he’s also the only man you fantasize about.

“promise?” you ask him.

the moonlight barely allows you to see him fully but you catch the smirk on his face. the same one that had captivated you years ago at the bar. his fingers are so close to your needy hole. you can’t help but audibly gasp as he inserts them inside you causing an illicit groan from him. your nails dig into his shoulders as he starts fucking you with his digits. meanwhile he kisses you from your collarbone to your neck.

“i promise.” he whispers against your ear.

he pumps his fingers in and out of you slowly helping you reach your high. it was only fair you were treated right. it was small details like this that had you wondering why the two of you couldn’t just commit to each other. you’re distracted as he leaves marks on your neck and his fingers curve inside you. you can’t help the loud moans that leave your mouth as you reach your high. your hands dig into the sheets as you come around his fingers.

he continues kissing you as he begins to take his hoodie off. you’re quick to stop him before he begins undressing himself.

“do i need to remind you that you didn’t score today? you’re not getting any tonight.” you adjust your shorts.

“so you did watch the game then.” he wraps his arms around you pulling you closer to him.

“i always do.” you whisper as you cuddle into him.

that’s how you spend the rest of the night, snuggled into his body as it rains outside. it’s quite an intimate moment shared between the two of you. you’re not quite sure if you should be worried or content with the turn your relationship with florian took. you decide it’s rather late and with the way he holds you you don’t think much more. after all he promised and while you knew florian was many things he was not an oath breaker.

[floralscented]

to, my loves !!

my first and foremost to this post is that i am honestly, truly, from the deepest depths of my heart, grateful for every single one of you. like literally every single person reading this. i recognize SO many of your names consistently in my notifs every time i post and it makes me JUST?? OVERJOYED? THAT PEOPLE LIKE MY STUFF ENOUGH TO KEEP COMING BACK FOR IT? like genuinely thank you???

i literally have been here ... for two to three months? idk. i have no track of time. but it's been barely any time at all, and has felt like it too, from how much fun i've been having and how welcomed i've felt !!! <3 there have been ... some downs LOL but mainly just ups! so many ups! and i cannot wait for 2025 to come so it can only get better!! <3

i'm gonna start off with the very first friend i ever made on here, @jasvtsc. kas, you are literally one of the sweetest people & silliest i've ever met in my LIFE. i was genuinely overjoyed to have had you follow me back in the first place, and then to click with you as easily as we did is something that is still so precious to me. every single interest i've had has somehow been something you like too, even if it felt so niche in my head, and that is so so lovely to me that someone exists out there that just??? gets it??? like i could just say "richard madden's little white streak" and you'd get it. that stuff doesn't just happen every day !!!

now ... my twin n my soul sister, @deansbeer & @titsout4jackles. actually two of the kindest people i've ever met and i am so lucky to be friends with them :( and to have met them :( it's gonna sound repetitive but to be followed by them, was honestly unreal to me. and again, it felt so natural talking to the both of you??? it's an honor to get to see your lovely little marriage, and to be able to call myself part of the unholy trinity. kari, i am convinced our brains are the same, from the ideas we make up together down to every little minute moment that we overthink. bree, you are literally like the big sister i've never had, and honestly never considered even wanting until i met you and couldn't imagine a time without you around.

my beloved @deansbite <3 sammy, i literally feel lucky every day to have gotten to meet you. you are one of the nicest people, and so funny, and so genuine, that it makes me want to be a better person every single day. you are so talented, and i love how your mind works, and it's an HONOR to get to be in your head for even a second. i love you so dearly & i'm so happy to get to have you around and to hold even an ounce of space in your mind. for real thank you for putting up with me and all of your kindness, it means more than you will ever ever know.

@divine-senses erica :( we have been friends since i was a baby! a little preteen i think! and that's so crazy that you have stuck around this long. you have seen many eras of me, a lot of them embarrassing, and i hope you stick around for next year too to see probably EVVEEENNN more embarrassing shit JDKFLSDJ BUT I SERIOUSLY LOVE YOU :( MY ALMOST BIRTHDAY TWIN :(

@deanswidow & @beausling my favorite lil married couple hehehe. I'M SO SORRY FOR ALL THE TIMES I ALMOST BREAK Y'ALL UP JUST BY EXISTING I SWEAR I'LL DO BETTER IN 2025 TRUST !!! jemmy, thank you for putting me in the spn sluts for real. like honestly so life changing to be invited and to meet everyone especially when i was TERRIFIED of it. it was such a welcoming experience and is still so, so lovely to be in there, and it's all because of the way you've cultivated the server. oct, you are literally just one of the funniest, loveliest people in the world. and every time i get a notif that you post something in there, it makes me genuinely so SO happy.

@aileenunfiltered <3 my little wine niece !!!! aileen, i love and adore you so much. you are SO CRAZY AND CHAOTIC and like every single impulsive thought i have in my head, and you DESPERATELY need to write more because you are SO SO GOOD.

@ultravi0lence14 & @ostaramoon. justyce and natasha !!! in my head you guys & me are like a lil trio idk why. literally so talented it's actually crazy. i love coming on and seeing you've posted something new because i know i'm going to eat it up every time. and you're both the sweetest people in the universe???? i desperately need to reach out more to you both because i love you SO much. i feel so lucky to get to call you guys my mooties and my friends !!!!

@jackleslvr ames <3 i'm so happy to have SO RECENTLY GOTTEN TO KNOW YOU??? IT ALREADY FEELS LIKE SO LONG. i also need to talk to you more in 2025, because you are literally the sweetest girl in the world, and getting to talk to you feels like SUCH an honor.

@figthoughts LITERALLLYYYY ONE OF MY TOP INSPIRATIONS ON HERE. and i think one of the first ppl i ever followed?? fig, every single thing you write makes me giddy & every time you have something to say about what i write i'm even more giddy. i am so excited to see what you cook up in the new year.

my honorable mentions <3 @depressionbarbie2023, literally comments on everything i write, which is so crazy bc there is a lot, and always has so much genuine kindness. you have been here since the beginning and i hold so much in my heart for it. @whyyouegg, my MISH :( you are so so so sweet. every time i see you comment on anything i write, it makes me smile because you are SO lovely. @angelblqde, emma you are so genuinely kind. thank you for 1) all the support and 2) just talking to me?? i've said it sm in this post but i mean it i never expected anyone to even WANT to when i started. some of my biggest inspirations, too, that for some reason deemed me worthy to follow @t3l3vangelism & @voidsuites & @eepwtf & @ohsc & @rubyvhs. like thank you??? omfg???? you guys are actually lovely, and so talented. IDK WHAT I DID TO EARN THE FOLLOW BUT REALLY THANK YOU FOR IT. @fallbhind, mae, you are such a sweetpea. thank you for having so much kindness to give, and i cannot wait to talk to you even more in 2025.

and also thanks to everyone for sticking with me throughout everything that happened in this last month LMAOOO. it was a lot !!!! and it means so much that every one of you still fucks w me PLEASEEE. i've been so sappy that now i can't take myself seriously BUT I MEAN EVERY WORD!!!! I'M SURE THERE'S PEOPLE I'M MISSING BUT I TRIED TO GET. EVERY PERSON I COULD. IF I FORGOT YOU I'M SO SORRY. PLEASE 4GIVE ME IN 2025.

i hope you all have the bestest new year in the world, and that i can play even the tiniest part in it in your lives. <3

happy new year !!!! <333

[waffledforbreakfast]

Too Many Beds - [Yandere!Reo x F!Reader]

Tw: Yandere, female reader, long hair, unestablished relationship, brief mentions of injury, suggestive (NO smut), swearing, cringe, etc.

[Bllk Oneshot Masterlist] [Bllk Headcannon Masterlist]

inspired by the reverse tropes

You sat on Reo’s bed, having been invited by the boy for a simple hangout to catch up since you missed class that day due to your leg injury.

“No wayyy seriously!?”

You looked at Reo with wide eyes and an excited smile as he told you about the fight that occurred early at school that morning

“Yea. There was blood everywheree, I think the girl got her nose broken… and she just got her nose job too!”

Reo laughed along with you, never losing focus on the happy glint in your eyes

It’s a shame you weren’t there to see it. Reo worked so hard to get the two to fight. So many hours he spent on call with the both of them, pressing lies and threats to get them both to snap at each other. He wished you could’ve seen it happen in front of your very eyes, his great masterpiece for the day. Would you be proud of him? Praise him? He wishes he could’ve found out. Oh well, there’s always next time.

“HA! Serves her right! She pushed me down the stairs yesterday!"

Reo nodded. He couldn’t agree more. The f[/]cking b[/]tch shouldn’t have even laid eyes on you. No one deserves that pleasure but him. And especially not someone like her. People who don’t acknowledge your grace don’t deserve to walk this earth.

But he also hated himself for not being there for you. He should’ve caught you in his arms, he should’ve never let you get injured. He'll kill the girl for doing something like that to you

Your phone rang; your mother was calling.

“Hm? Oh yea I’m doing good, having fun!”

Reo smiled. He was glad you were enjoying everything he so carefully set up. As you checked in with your mother, he also went through his own notifications, texting a few people.

“Ah, Reo, I think I should get going… It’s already 9pm after all”

WHAT. No- right now? Why? WHY? WHAT WAS HE DOING WRONG?

“Are you sure? It’s raining really badly outside…”

Reo glanced out the window. Rain droplets were flying at and crazy fast speed, loud ping-panging was heard both the roof (since you two were on the top floor) and the windows

“Was it always raining?”

Thank lord the assistants got the text in time. 

You tilted your head, covering your phone with your hand

“I uh- think so, we must’ve been to caught up in conversation lol…Actually- Why don’t you just stay the night? Tomorrows a weekend after all! Plus it wouldn’t be wise for you to go home this late. I just want you to be safe.”

You hesitated, before turning back to your phone, asking your mother if it’d be okay to stay over

“Honey, are you sure? Do you really trust this guy? Where are you going to sleep, do you have extra clothing, tooth brushes, towels, are you sure about this?”

Reo nodded frantically at you with a plastered smile

“We have multiple beds on this floor, a guest bathroom that comes with everything you’ll need, and extra clean clothes. I promise you’ll be safe with me.”

Reo spoke loudly, to make sure your mother picked up on what he said.

You relayed it to your mom, asking her again for permission. After a half minute, your face lit up and quickly threw out multiple thank-yous. You shot Reo a quick "👌" and he smiled as he put his hands together 

“Great! I’ll get everything setup then” 

He tried to keep his voice as stable as possible, but he felt like he was going to die from happiness.

Reo’s heart was beating out of his chest, he could feel his entire body pulse with excitement. You were staying the night, with him. Reo couldn’t stop smiling, he felt like rolling on the floor giggling with excitement, he was ready to die after this night for all he cared.

But he had to keep himself composed in front of you. He could freak out after you left.

“Do you need to shower? I can show you the way”

You nodded as you stood up, leaving your phone on his desk

“The guest bathroom is a bit far… My bathroom’s closer! Would you prefer that?” “Sure, I really don’t mind”

The guest bathroom was really only a room or two down from his.

Reo showed you the way, and grabbed a few of his T-shirts and shorts and handed them to you.

“Pick whatevers most comfortable with you! I hope you don’t mind wearing something that’s mine…” “It’s fine really. No need to be so uptight”

You smiled and waved it off

Reo nearly exploded. He burst into a smile as he tried to squash it down. You didn’t mind wearing something he wore. You didn’t mind. What if he gave you his hoodie? Would you wear that? Oh, he’d give you his skin if you so wanted.

As you showered, Reo headed back to his room. He sat down at the desk where your phone was. And with shaking hands, he picked up your phone and flipped it around in his hands.

You touch your phone everyday. We wished you’d touch him even once. Your fingertips tracing his jawline the same way they’d trace the edge of your phone. Poke his checks the same way you’d pressed the buttons. Decorate and dress him the same way you’d change your phone case and phone charm. Oh how he wished he could be around you as often as your phone was.

Hell, even throw him across the room the same way you do to it. Throw him on the bed like you do to your phone after a long day. Then check that it wasn’t cracked afterwards from the impact. Turn to him anytime you have a question like you would to your phone. Was it possible to be jealous of an inanimate object?

"Are you snooping through my phone?”

You playfully glared at Reo with an irritated smile

“No no no- See? I haven’t even bothered trying to unlock it!”

He showed you your phone, still on the black screen having not been turned on

“I just wanted to see your lock screen- I swear-”

Reo laughed, a tone of panic and desperation in his voice. Please believe him. He doesn’t know what he’d do if you didn’t trust him…

You looked at him skeptically, but let him off with a shrug.

“Do you have a hair dryer or anything?” “Oh yea! Let me help you”

Fuck, you looked amazing. the way you looked in his clothing, your hair dripping wet, leaving stains on his shirt. God he loved you

Reo reached under the bed and pulled it out, unwrapping the cord and plugging it in. He smiled and signaled for you to sit on the bed in front of you

He hummed contently, running his fingers through your hair as he held the hairdryer. 

"Your hair is beautiful. Would you ever consider doing a shampoo ad or something? You’d look amazing on the cover of a magazine” 

Ah, this caught you off guard- but you thanked him as you smiled to yourself at the complement 

“Think this is the best I can do… Is it okay?”

He turned the hair dryer off, and ruffled your hair lightly

You nodding, running your hands through your hair. Most of it was dry, but the tips were still a bit wet, though that wasn’t a problem.

“You said you have extra rooms?” “Oh… Yea, I guess so…”

Why don’t you stay in my room? What’s wrong with staying with me? I cleaned everything just for you, everything's hidden- THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH MY ROOM. STAY HERE. PLEASE.

“but they’re all supper small- I don’t think you’ll like them” “That’s alright, anything will work for the night” “Well- my bed’s bigger than all the other ones…" “Didn’t you say there were multiple guest rooms…?” “...But- I really don’t mind you staying in my bed…”

Shit. What was he going to say to get you to stay? He should’ve never said there were other rooms. What if he told you the other rooms had rat infestations- no, you’d be disgusted by him….

Bam!

The loudest strike of thunder sounded. It was so loud it was almost unnatural…

“You know what- nevermind. I think I’ll stay with you tonight…”

You laughed awkwardly, body shaking a bit from the sudden bang. You hated thunder.

Reo smiled he’d be sure to give the assistants a raise after tonight

He set everything up. Gave you a cute plushie and brought over extra blankets in case you got cold, a cup of water, and charged your phone. Whatever you wanted, really.

“You gonna come to bed yet? It’s almost 11….”

You yawned, rubbing your eyes half asleep 

Reo wished he could see this sight every night. He swore in that moment on his heart that he’d marry you

“Yup, just turning off the lights.”

He flicked a few switches and the room blacked out. A few moments after Reo joined you under the blankets

“Goodnight, Reo.” “Goodnigh, my love” “Mh?” “I said Goodnight, [Y/N].”

BONUS He may or may not have set a quiet alarm (to no wake you) so he could stare at your face for a few hours... and to preorder breakfast!

A/N: Played around with the formatting here... AND I STILL SUCK AT WRITING SO FORGIVE ME [SOBSOBSOB] anyway i love reo 💜

[luckyyyduckyyy]

THANKSGIVING MOOTIE APPRECIATION ❤️✨❤️

Happy thanksgiving y'all! And a good time zone to all my non-US/non-Turkey day havers lovelies!

Tis the season of thanks and I'm a very thankful goober this year! I only started getting active on Tumblr about half a year ago and there's already so many people and things I'm grateful for from this site alone! I've enjoyed so much art and events, participated in yap seshes, tag games, and ultimately felt pretty welcomed and at home on this site, and it's thanks to all you! <3<3<3

Special thanks to the DCA fandom in its entirety as well! All the discussions, artists, writers, and shared reposts with all the silly notes are awesome! Y'all inspire me all the time and make me wish I was more outgoing than I am just so I can say hello to each and every one of you!!!!

The list gets long, so for the sake of those scrolling by, I have put it below! Have a lovely day everyone! <3333

@midnight-mourning Your writing is just wonderful. It's everything!!! I adore it so much and your CS boyos have wormed their way into my heart and refuses to leave. Some of my favorite songs even remind me of them! (Don't tell Moon this but I am very attached to CS Sun-)(Honestly gotta be my favorite Sun I've read fr fr) Also! Thank you for just being so supportive, thinking about me in tag games, and giving ALL the tag notes! They're a wonder to read and have me bounce off the walls! I'm always so happy we're mooties! ❤️❤️❤️ (Also, fun fact, you're my first mutual too! It's insane to me HOW DID THIS HAPPEN GUAHPHIAHDKA)

@pointyfruit You! Your art? Muah, wonderful. I don't even care if it's not dca related because it's so good. The shape language, art style, and just unique takes on just anything and everything blows my mind! Let's not forget COLORS. Oml they are so PRETTY. It's like an explosion I never want to end. 💥💥💥 Also! So goofy, so silly, and COTL enjoyer! Let's GOOOOO!!! I don't engage with the fandom much but I DO love the game and honestly I almost beat it, but still have not because I don't wanna do the final boss fight. It can't be over bros... Anyways when I see your posts I always wanna just wave like a neighbor seeing ya blow up 10 boxes of fireworks on a casual Tuesday afternoon. 👋👋👋:D

@divinit3a SPINS YOU!!! 🐶🐕🐶 Heya silly meister! In the midst of reading your work, gotta say? Muwah, Perfecto! The sillies are putting me on a rollercoaster and I'm stuck on the ride! While my ability to yap is a coin flip every hour, you happen to bring the yappening out of me with all the fun notes and posts you do--We've already had so many fun convos! Speaking of posts, the art is peak and will STAY peak! The designs? Muwah. The colors? Muwah. You make even the creepiest of goobers hauntingly beautiful! We've may not have known each other for long, but you're someone I look forward to seeing on my dash/notifications every time I open the app! ❤️❤️❤️

@sinister-sincerely Hi!!!! I'm still sometimes in awe realizing we're mutuals! I really love your work and if I'm in the mood to read something but I don't know what, I tend to turn to Aftersome often, even though I've read both the og and the rewrite! It's like you're the master of writing angst, bitter unrequited feelings, and the strange tenseness but want of confusing relationships. It's gut wrenching and I wish I could write something so evoking! All your stories are amazing and I seriously hope you know that, they're such heavy hitters that they have marked a place in my memory. ❤️ Your art too is wonderful! They don't pop up often but when they do it's a real treat! I love that you use grey scale in a lot of your works and the style is just so pleasing to look at. Whenever I see the DCA in your style I wanna give them the biggest hugs, even if they'd pry me off seconds later! ✨✨✨

@r0b0s-robos / @r0b0-wannabe Waving at you excitedly!!! It's always a pleasure to see your reposts, you always find the good stuff! Plus, you always are trying to help out others and it's amazing to see, your efforts are able to make great impacts. :333 You're also another writer I appreciate immensely, and I'm so invested in your botanist au. The sillies and their botanist who is desperately trying not to fall in love with them!!! ADORE THEM!!! I can't wait to read more! ❤️❤️❤️ The times you post about writing ideas or silly things about the DCA has me nodding my head with a smile. Also, the little notes you leave in tags, despite usually being brief, always makes me so happy! It's like seeing the kind stoic look at you from their seat, let out a small smile, and say "I love this"- and then suddenly it's a blast of blinding white light of endearment straight to my heart. K.O.!

@chickenchirps27 Welcome back!!! I've noticed you've been much more active recently and it's always fun to see what you got goin on! Obligatory art mention, but it would be criminal to NOT mention it. ITS!!! AMAZING!!! THEY LOOK LIKE ROCK CANDY!!! Colors!!! I love it so much, the goobers look delicio- I mean they look adorable and masterfully crafted in each piece of art! And your sona, ugh, she's so gorgeous and alien in the best ways possible. I've never seen anything like her and I am in awe of how you came up with all her little details. Those mantis arms are SICK and I want them!!! (Though drawing may be a little hard if I had em-)✨✨✨

@amarynthian-fortress / @amarynthian-chronicles Hehehe! Boops you! >:D Honestly, thank you for always being the biggest sweetheart around and being so welcoming. You're one of the people that made me feel able to crack my shell more and be more active on here! Your writing is whimsical, your reposts and comments are always so kind and feel-goody, and you just always show you care and the randomest times! Catch me off guard why don't you! I love all the snippets and treats you post, and I'm saving many of your stories to read for rainy days! ❤️❤️❤️

@ping-ski My reaction to us becoming mutuals was- 💥💥💥:OOOOO💥OO💥💥 I think I've followed you right when I started getting active on here and gah, your art is wonderful. So lovely, stylized, and colored so simply yet so appealingly that I can't stop looking. Your aus make me want to read them and their designs are always top tier! Also, I cannot forget to mention you are SILLAY!!! So silly! Your comments on reposts are goofy and I love to read them whenever they come up on my dash! Not to mention your own posts- I will never forget the 3-in-1 solid block of dca encased in ice. I was in awe of seeing them encased and I suddenly wanted my own dca ice cubes to put into a drink and try not to choke on. ✨✨✨

@quilteddreamz Your writing. Oh my GOSH your writing! It's wonderful, beautiful, gah, I can't wait for your advent calender! I wish I could do something for it but I got 3 more weeks of large projects tapped to my back. I am sending much luck your way and know that I am excited to enjoy some daily dca! Don't break yourself over it too! I may adore the goobers but you're most adored first! Take care and keep being such a whimsical person! Muwah! ✨✨✨

@flowysgonemad You are also! Silly!!! You are so fun to see popping around my dash and your doodles just make me go :333 every time! I love your aus and you're a very kind/goofy person! I don't even remember how we became mutuals but garsh diggity dang it, it's awesome to see ya and anything you yap about!

There are MANY more mooties I want to appreciate and show off, but I fear I am currently omw to go to a large thanksgiving dinner and I'm expecting to be there for the rest of the day. SO! If you weren't listed, please know that I AM thinking of you! Have a wonderful time zone, and just know that my heart is so full knowing that you're all there! I can't believe there is that many of you to begin with that I can't fit you all within the time frame! (Would you believe me if I said coming up with all the right words to say here took me 2 1/2 hours?)

So! To all my beloved writers, artists, and sillies alike! From the bottom of my heart, really, thank you! For being here, even reading this, and appreciating the things I do as much as I appreciate you! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️✨✨✨✨✨✨

[emilykaldwen]

The Maiden and the Drowning Boy | Aegon x OC | Chapter Twenty

Rating: Explicit

Ships: Aegon II Targaryen x Abrogail Strong (Lyonel Strong's Daughter), Jacaerys Velaryon x Helaena Targaryen

Summary: As the kingdom teeters on the edge of chaos, Alicent Hightower swaps the pieces on the board: Aegon will marry Abrogail Strong, Larys’ younger sister and heir to Harrenhal. Caught in the web of intrigue and political machinations, the pair must figure out where their loyalties lie, and what they mean to one another.

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Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen

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Author's Note: Happy Anniversary to Maiden! I'm so happy to those of you who've been on the journey from the start and those who have found this story along the way. We are in the final few chapters of this Arc! And to celebrate, I bring you amazing plot twists! All my love and thanks to @vampire-exgirlfriend for holding my hand and being with me every step of the way, and @darkwolf76 who loved this story first.

If you're reading here on tumblr, I'd love to hear from you! My inbox is open and I can't wait to hear your thoughts!

CHAPTER TWENTY - I'm In Over My Head

We finally arrive at Harrenhal, where you cannot escape the ghosts.

It was a fortnight by horseback and only six hours by Sunfyre to Harrenhal, but the royal progress along the Kingsroad took a moon. The people needed to see them, the queen had insisted, refusing to let them stay and ride out on dragonback. Instead, Helaena would stay, Ser Criston at her side, and the sworn sword would fly with the princess in a month’s time. Baela would fly out with them on Moondancer, Jace on Vermax, and Aemond would accompany the royal progress without Vhagar.

Harrenhal could only house so many dragons.

Abby was ready to be done with it all; her body felt like it would never stop jostling even when she was out of the wheelhouse. The days on horseback were better, but even those had left her aching from her inexperience. Aegon had whispered in her ear that it would be good practice for her, and how precious she looked bowlegged. The ribald flirtation had sent a rush of heat and anticipation through her, as well as frustration with him for making light of how uncomfortable she’d been. For his cheek, she’d bundled herself in the wheelhouse with the Crane twins, Merei Thorne, and Floris, the latter of which had her hold her tongue to keep from ranting.

She missed Wylla.

Wylla, she knew, would loop her arm through hers and recount all the wonderful ways they could make Aegon miserable. Jesting, of course, though the pair regularly snipped at one another.

Guilt roiled in Abby’s gut. After the betrothal announcement between Aemond and Floris, Wylla had taken the opportunity to flee to Stone Hedge to witness her brother’s nuptials to Lady Alys Bracken. It had been good that she did, Abby thought. She would be able to see her mother and other brothers, who had come down in order to attend her wedding, and Wylla did not know when she would see them next. Karhold was further north than Winterfell and her friend was giving up a great deal to come live at Harrenhal.

That said little of the other reasons why Wylla had eagerly left for Stone Hedge, and Abby thought of Helaena’s words all those months ago. ‘And I’ll be left alone while you and Aegon are busy making babies together!’ She felt like a poor friend and and even worse sister, unable to deny that as the weeks had passed, her focus had been less on duties she’d taken so seriously, of being there for those she cared for, and more focused on the making of her wedding dress, of the stealing time with Aegon with a desperate heat and wanting, of responding to well wishes and organizing a household… when she had promised to always be there for Helaena. When she had begun to foster a love and friendship with Wylla that had grown into its own sisterhood.

Jace had so easily comforted Helaena during her difficult days when Abby was pulled away or otherwise occupied. And Wylla had not even told her of the budding romance between her and Aemond - now brutally cut short in the wake of politics beyond their control. So consumed she’d been with Aegon, with everything else, things that, selfishly, were for her and her alone, and so easily she’d forgotten those she vowed to care for.

Abby would do all she could to make up for it. She would ensure that Wylla did not feel forgotten, that her and Helaena could indeed visit often. She would write, she would-

“Lady Abrogail?”

Desmera’s voice cut through the swirl of guilty words flitting through Abby’s head and she looked up at the Crane girl. Desma, Abby corrected herself. Desmera preferred Desma. She was holding the wool kirtle in her arms, the shade of green as lush and dark as the fields they passed through with red weirwood embroidery along the arms. The surcoat carefully folded on the table was half red and half blue and edged in silvery rabbit fur, among the other parts of her heraldic dress. She would not be in the wheelhouse as they came into Harrentown, and the parade that announced their arrival would be a large one. Already they had seen an uptick of traffic along the Kingsroad and the tents in the fields, the small inns filled to bursting the closer they were. With only a few hours until they approached the town, it was almost like they were approaching King’s Landing. Merchants were setting up along the way to hawk wares and Abby knew that the crowd would be thicker the closer they crept

The distant call of dragons echoed outside the tent and Abby and Desma poked their heads out the flap to crane their necks to look up.

“I can’t believe Ser Criston is riding dragonback with the princess,” Desma murmured, and Abby laughed. He had stayed behind with Helaena, and Abby knew it was to keep an eye on Jace. What Abby would have given to see the look on the knight’s face when he was told that he would fly with Helaena. Not even Queen Alicent had flown with her children, despite both Aegon and Helaena’s offers.

Abby knew how big dragons were, having been around them her whole life, but this was different. With no expansive sprawl of King’s Landing or the Great Sept to compare, they seemed even larger. Past the many tents of the camps, the moors of the Riverlands was all there was. No buildings, no great mountains or spires or monuments. Just the green, rolling hills surrounding the Kingsroad and the forest beyond.

Dreamfyre’s bulk was impressive, the blue and silver of her scales standing out in the morning light, her call warm and low, melodic in a way that was surprising for a dragon. Two smaller dragons were flying about, answering the calls, scales in shades of jade and bronze and silver as Jace and Baela danced around the great dragon.

There was another familiar call, the trilling echoing across the moor like a song. Abby’s heart swelled, hearing Aegon’s happy shout from somewhere inside the camp as Sunfyre gleamed as bright as the morning sun. How she missed him, how she missed being free in the air where nothing else mattered.

Desma tugged on her elbow, laughing. “Come back here, Abby, you’re still in your nightgown.��

Abby allowed herself to be pulled back in the tent, and was soon joined by Merei Thorne, who came bearing a plate of cold meats and bread and warm cider to break her fast.

“I’m ready to be done with all this mud,” she groused, dark hair loose and free about her shoulders, her swarthy skin flushed from the cool morning air. “Ser Rickard says the crowds up the road will be thick by the time we reach them.” Merei’s uncle was a member of the Kingsguard, and Abby was grateful that she had sought information before arriving.

She let herself be tugged out of her nightgown and a fresh chemise pulled over her head before Desma got her into the green kirtle and Merei shoved a piece of bread with ham into Abby’s open mouth. “Wylla’s sent word this morning with the rider.” Merei waved the scroll around. “Your rooms have been made ready, and Lythene and Sarra are settling in, so all you need to do is arrange things to your liking.”

Abby eagerly reached for the scroll as the girls laced her into the kirtle. It was a short message, but Wylla’s handwriting was comforting and familiar.

“Is Alys another one of your ladies?” Merei asked, moving the surcoat out of the way while Abby sat to eat. Desma opened the box of combs and ribbons and hairpins to get to work on her curls.

Wylla’s letter had mentioned help from Alys Rivers, and Abby shook her head before Desma pinched her to keep still as she carefully worked Abby’s curls.

“No, she’s a member of our household. A healer and sometimes ladies maid. She helped my mother when she was pregnant with me, but declined to come to the capital with us.” Her memories of the woman were fuzzy whenever Abby tried to look at them more closely. Dark haired with large grey eyes, Alys had been a fixture when she had visited Harrenhal over the years. “It’s good that she’s helping Wylla. I know Aunt Mya has her hands full with everything and my cousin, Deidre, is there to help.” Deidre, the future Lady Smallwood of Acorn Hall, had grown up at Harrenhal and would prove helpful in this busy time of preparation. Deidre’s younger sister, Cassana, lived at Runestone and would be arriving with Lord Yorick’s party soon.

Desma’s hands worked quickly to pull Abby’s curls from her face, winding a knot of braids along the back of her head, the rest curling down her back to her waist. It would be hours of riding, but also hours of being seen by the people who looked to Harrenhal, who looked to her family, as their liege lords. Merei pulled a delicate net of silver dotted with rubies, sapphires, and emeralds and pinned it around Desma’s delicate knotwork.

With her mother’s carnelian necklace around her throat, Abby shoved her feet into her riding boots and grabbed a last chunk of bread and ham before ducking out of the tent as her ladies oversaw the packing of her things.

The sea of black and red tents felt like a field of Targaryen poppies as she made her way through the camp. The ground was not as muddy as Merei complained, but Abby was nonetheless grateful for her sturdy boots. Already the grass was churning into a muddy mess in various places and she carefully stepped around them. Servants paused to offer quick bows and curtsies, which Abby felt awkward about. They did not need to pause in their duties to acknowledge her, but at the same time, it was strangely satisfying to be recognized, to be deferred to in some small way.

Abby was not sure how to feel about it, so she pushed the confusing feelings away and shoved the rest of her bread in her mouth.

She found Aegon where the horses were stabled, tethered to temporary posts and being fed their morning grain. The morning light turned Aegon’s curls a soft gold, his gray linen shirt tucked into a pair of high waisted, black riding pants, stripes of red embroidered with gold scales down the sides into a pair of tall, shiny black boots. He was without his own surcoat and she knew that it was just as ostentatious as her own heraldic gown: black and red and scaled as was the Targaryen way. She licked butter from her thumb as she approached, gaze raking over him appreciatively and the opened neck of his shirt, teasing the lightly freckled skin that she longed to kiss.

Kostōba was as brilliant as ever, pawing happily at the ground and rooting his nose against Aegon, clearly looking for more treats. His cream colored coat shone as golden as his master’s hair in the sun, brilliant against the caparison of red and black taffeta for House Targaryen. Aegon was busy stroking the snout of another horse, focused on checking the buckles of the halter and bit. The mare was a brilliant chestnut, so red that it matched her hair, it’s mane only a scant few shades darker. It pawed the ground beside Kostōba, nickering and also looking for treats.

“What’s this?”

Aegon turned, eyes wide as if he’d been caught, a sleepy smile on his face. She was no longer mad at him, of course, but the forced distance over their travels was frustrating, in addition to the misery of frequently having to sleep outdoors, no matter how comfortable the tents were. It made tempers shorter, and the stress of everything that was to come was fraying at her.

Aegon closed the distance between them, cupping her face in his hands, and the touch immediately had her shoulders relaxing and she sighed as he kissed her. Chastely, but it was Aegon and his teeth snuck in a quick nibble before he pulled back. She did her best to hide her pout, tasting the wine he’d had that morning on her mouth. Abby licked her lips, blushing at the look he gave her.

“Happy nameday!” he declared, gesturing to the mare. Abby blinked at him, owlish and momentarily confused.

“Nameday?” What day was it? Time had become an endless blur of bumpy roads and the creaking wheelhouse. He raised an eyebrow at her, taking her chin in hand and tilting her head to look up at him.

“It’s your nameday,” he repeated slowly as if she hadn’t heard him the first time.

Oh! It was, wasn’t it? She sputtered softly and he chuckled, pressing another brief kiss to her parted mouth.

“Happy nameday,” he repeated more slowly this time, snickering at her lapse of memory and dropping her chin to caress her shoulder and turn her towards the mare. “She’s from the same stock as Kostōba. Six years old and well trained. She’ll be gentle with you and give a hoof to the face of any who should try to pull you from her.” His grin brightened as he went on, lilac eyes crinkled in excitement as he glanced back at her. Abby could see the hope in Aegon’s face, the nerves and question of if he’d done well with the gift.

Kostōba snorted at Aegon’s shoulder, nudging at him more insistently. Aegon huffed and pulled another piece of carrot from the pocket of his black riding coat. Abby reached up to gently stroke the velvet soft nose of the mare and took the second carrot that Aegon offered. She eagerly took it with greedy teeth, and Abby giggled as the velvet nose tickled her palm.

“She’s beautiful,” Abby said, giddiness bubbling through her belly, swooping at the thoughtfulness of the gesture, and surprise at how exciting it was to be given a horse of her very own. “And she won’t buck me off?”

“Well you’ve proven to be a good rider already, on dragonback no less, though it’s different with a horse, obviously. And I think as long as you keep petting her and speaking to her sweetly as you do, provide plenty of carrots, maybe even some apples? Oh, I think you’ll be just fine.”

Abby scoffed, but her smile was bright. “Endless supply of carrots and apples and oats. Understood, my prince. I will endeavor to bond her to me.” The mare huffed softly as Kostōba’s head came near hers to bump it.

“They look good together, don’t they?” Aegon asked softly, casually.

“They do,” Abby agreed with a soft laugh. “She matches my hair.”

“Exactly. That’s why I picked her.”

“And your horse matches your hair.”

Aegon shrugged, cheeks flushed pink as he scratched around his stallion’s nose. “I have good taste. Do you like her?” There was a furrow now between his brows as he pointedly asked her, her words not doing enough to convey her thanks. It was a guileless thing - Aegon wasn’t trying to tease a deeper showing of affection from her in his usual, playful way. Abby handed him her gathered skirts and he took them, confused, and she reached up to cup his face with both hands, his skin warm against her perpetually chilled fingers.

“I love this gift, Aegon. No one else has wished me happy nameday, but you did, and provided me a thoughtful gift that I love very much,” she reassured him, teeth catching on her lower lip as the words visibly washed over him. She could feel the tension vibrating through him, as if he couldn’t quite believe she enjoyed the gift, or was waiting for something to drop, or a dozen other things. She felt him shudder and relax into her and Abby hummed, thumbs stroking along the apples of his cheeks. The furrow eased, the tension in his shoulders relaxed, his gaze grew softer as he turned his head slightly to nuzzle against her touch. Her belly was warm, fingers toying with the softness of his silver hair, affection surging through her. Abby pressed up on her toes to press a soft, innocent peck to his plush mouth. “I love you, Aegon.”

“I love you,” he whispered shyly as his cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink. Satisfaction and ease seemed to fill him as she pulled away and took her skirts back from his hold. He cleared his throat, tossing his hair back from his face and reached up to stroke the little white star on the mare’s forehead. “Now we can go riding together - properly have a good race.”

“You want to race? Well then, we’ll have to come up with some good wagers then, won’t we?” The prospect excited her, the planning for things they’d do once the wedding was over and they could just get on with the rest of their lives; away from the Red Keep, away from the politics and the eyes that constantly watched them, away from everything that chased them in waking and in sleep.

Another bright call sounded above them and they both looked up to see Sunfyre circling, his chirps and clicks echoing down to them. The mare snorted and backed away, shaking her head at the closeness of the predator. Two of the stableboys came hurrying over to help calm her. Abby backed away, not wanting to be too close should she rear up, feeling foolish that she was unable to calm her horse, let alone understand how.

“He missed you,” she said, and Aegon laughed, bright and happy as he always was when it came to his golden boy.

“He’s a smart one, isn’t he?” Aegon grinned. “I was…” He trailed off, uncertain, and Abby pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

“He would not abandon you. That menace broke out of the dragon pit to get to you, remember?” Not that Sunfyre had caused any damage outside of freeing himself from his chains, and would not return until Aegon had gone to retrieve him before they were dragged back to the Red Keep all those months ago.

“He would most certainly not.” Confidence returned to Aegon’s voice and he cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting words of Valyrian and gesturing north.

Abby’s gaze drifted from the sight to look out past the horses to the rolling moors past them. The mist still hung heavy along the ground, slowly burning away as the morning grew, lending a murky sight of the forest that obscured the sight of the God’s Eye.

A twisting sensation spooled through her chest as she watched the trees. There were oaks abundant along the road, and as they drew north, there were pines dotting the landscape as well. But the great, dark forest beside them was different. The oaks here were giant things. Once, as a little girl, she’d ridden out with Harwin into the Red Wood. There were a few red oaks in the Harrenhal godswood - massive things that shot past the great height of the walls. Here in the forest surrounded by them, it felt like another world. The trunks of the trees were as big as the family dining hall in the Kingspyre. Uncle Simon said that the great round table had been cut from such a trunk.

Ancient trees that had survived the great heart wound of Harren the Black. Spirits lived in the weirwoods; she remembered those stories, and the ancient sentinels remembered too. They were here long before and would be there long after -

“Hey!”

Strong, warm hands gripped her arms and shook her. Abby blinked slowly, feeling tired and confused. Aegon was looking down at her; face pale, confused, annoyed. “What’s gotten into you? I was calling for you, Abby.”

“But…” As she meant to say she had not moved, Abby realized that she could not hear nor smell the horses, and that the sounds of camp were softer than they had been before.

“You kept walking and I thought you were going to show me something but then you stopped speaking,” Aegon went on, but his voice sounded odd - strangely muffled and then clear. She reached for him but her hand missed his arm and he reached for it, tugging her to him. “Abby, you’re freezing.”

She was always freezing.

The crowd was deafening and the drum beats of the parade only added to the din. The chestnut mare, now named Stranger, trotted smoothly beside Aegon’s stallion as the royal procession made its way through Harrentown. The scouts and messengers had not lied.

The crowd was large, not only the townsfolk but filled with those who had traveled far and wide to witness the festivities and hawk their wares. As they approached her family’s castle, the fields field with colored tents sporting the banners of the noble houses that had made their way to the God’s Eye.

Harrenton was not an exceptionally large town although little was when compared to King’s Landing. It was a trading post, a crossroads at the mouth of the Riverlands. Trade and travel that came south from Darry would stop here, as well as the trade from the south at the capital. The buildings were white stucco and plaster with the red oak timbers from the Red Wood, tiered three stories tall with steeply pitched, clay shingled roofs. Many of the ground floors were made from red bricks. Mud was in abundance here, and pottery and bricks were their foundations of trade.

Abby tilted her head up to the banners hung across the thoroughfare, the tri color streamers of House Strong interspersed with the black and red ribbons of House Targaryen. Those who could not find space along the red brick road hung out from the leaded windows, waving flags and banners, throwing out handfuls of flower petals from the winter flowers in swirling dances of pinks and purples, whites and yellows. Young children on their parents shoulders, too disinterested in whatever people were on display, giggled and reached to try to catch the petals. The people yelled for House Strong, they yelled for the name of her father, they yelled…

They yelled her name.

‘Lady Abrogail! Lady Strong! Princess Abrogail!’

Her cheeks flamed, her grin both shy and beaming, unused to the attention being paid to her. Abby glanced over at Aegon, who preened beneath his own attention, the petals that were thrown about the air catching in his silver curls.

‘Prince Aegon! House Targaryen! Lady Abrogail! House Strong!’

His lilac gaze found her, his grin broadening, all teeth and bright eyes, dimples creased in his cheeks. The breeze caught in her curls, fluttering the delicate silver veil around her face. The flower petals drifted and swirled between them, caught in his hair, in the silver and red manes of their horses, and everything felt like a dream.

Now they left the main thoroughfare and made their way up the switchback to where the castle loomed, and as they made the turn, the world dropped out as the vast, glittering expanse of the God’s Eye filled the horizon. Abby’s breath caught in her throat and beside her, Aegon audibly exhaled, momentarily halting his horse beside her to take a look. Behind them, Abby could hear Daeron’s exclamation of wonder.

The God’s Eye ate the entire horizon, glittering like an aquamarine gem beneath the cloudless blue of the sky. The only thing that interrupted the site was the distant, hazy sight of the Isle of Faces, obscured by the haze and distance.

“It’s bigger than the Whispering Sound,” Daeron breathed. “Uncle Gwayne-”

“Aye,” the elder sounded just as surprised, just as awed. “Large enough for the eye of a god, isn’t it?”

Seagulls called along with other birds along the banks and Abby could just make out a few fishing boats tiny on the water. She rose up in her saddle to take a better look, vowing that she would never tire of the spectacular sight.

“I didn’t realize how I missed this sight.” She laughed, unsure if she might cry from grief or joy.

“It’s the color of your eyes,” Aegon said softly, his gaze firmly affixed to the sight before them. He wasn’t even looking at her, just caught in wonder. It was a new expression for Aegon, and Abby was loath to draw him from it. She reached over and he must have seen her, or maybe he’d been reaching for her hand at the same time. “It’s endless, like the sky.”

He squeezed her hand and with a gentle command, their party continued.

Harrenhal was a scar against the landscape, the black stone stark against the green and blue of the landscape. With towers shooting up higher than the tallest of Maegor’s Holdfast, Harrenhal loomed as its maker always intended: Ominous and impossible to ignore. The twisted, melted stone that capped the towers were vicious reminders of the violence in the past, but life bloomed amidst the ruins. Sentinels and oaks, vibrant and lush, shot past the tops of the stone walls from the large godswood that butted up against the shore. Harrenhal held a small household guard and several called out from the gatehouse.

Making the final turn, their party was greeted by the half shattered statue of Harren the Black, only his legs and rearing mount left above the bridge. It started with stone and then switched to thick ironwood that spanned the dry moat beneath, and, as if to welcome them home, Sunfyre of all things perched above the gates like an enormous, golden hawk, calling out and declaring that this was now his domain. Stranger whickered nervously, hesitating in approach until Abby urged her on with a gentle hand against her neck.

“Seven hells,” Aegon muttered, barely caught over the sounds of the hooves on the wooden bridge and the creaking of the carriages behind them. Whatever else Aegon said was drowned out beneath the sound of Sunfyre’s trilling. The golden dragon was singing and it was a haunting tune that echoed along the stone like water over river rocks. The sound of it sent dozens, maybe even a hundred or more, bats bursting from the ruined tops of the tower. Distracted by the creatures that took to the sky, he pushed off the gatehouse, the horses rearing as stone debris fell in their path.

Abby looked at Aegon, eyebrows raised. “He can’t keep doing that.”

He frowned, half-offended and mildly concerned. “It’s not his fault the stone is crumbling,” he said, but the defense was half-hearted as he eyed the broken stone being pushed out of the way.

Aemond and Daeron, Ser Gwayne and a few of the Kingsguard followed them, the guards taking a station at the gate until the king passed through. The rest of the party in their wheelhouses were held back until the stone was removed.

The gatehouse was a great thing cut through the thick, black curtain walls. The way was lit with torches, the echo of the horses’ hoof beats giving an uncertain cacophony as the sound bounced around the tunnel. Abby’s gaze drifted up, the ceiling of the tunnel shadowed but she remembered Larys telling her the frightening tale of the dozen murder holes where they would drop oil and poisonous spiders and venomous snakes down onto those who tried to breach the castle. She’d had nightmares for weeks.

Aegon said nothing beside her, and the look on his face was one of bewildered interest. She bit her lip, a smile playing. He had only ever known King’s Landing, after all.

Tears pricked her eyes as the strange longing sensation that had harbored for so long in her chest eased. It didn’t go away, but she could feel the hooked edges of yearning, the grief, the feeling that she did not belong, that something was missing, smoothing out into something bittersweet. Beyond the great walls of the castle, Harrenhal was full of life. Beneath the great shadow of the ruined towers, a reclaiming had taken place over the years, and the notion soothed that bramble within her.

As the party passed through the gatehouse into the outer bailey, Abby’s eyes darted over the crowd that had begun to gather. Over the years, some of the ruins had been dismantled and turned into proper staff quarters. A new granary, the stables,meant to house a thousand horses, had partially been converted to a barn. Before them, the Hall of a Hundred Hearths loomed, rebuilt through the reclaiming of the ruined Tower of Ghosts, now only a few stories tall.

The focal point of the hall was the ornate, stained glass window above the colossal entrance. Along the top half of the circle, a weirwood tree was carefully placed, the red leaves a border around the top, the cream colored branches reaching wide, and the sun behind it sported the tri-color stripes of her family’s sigil. Below the roots was a mound with seven circles - each portraying the sigil of each aspect of the Seven.

The Andals had spread their faith when they had conquered, but here in the halls of her family’s seat, and through the Riverlands, folk noble and small alike found a faith made their own - to mourn the loss of the weirwoods in their subjugation, and the comfort found in faces old and new alike. Especially here, on the shores of the God’s Eye, where the last of the southron weirwoods still thrived, where whispers and tales of the Children of the Forest outside the North clung like moss to the stilts of the houses along the riverbanks.

Fluttering fabric caught her eye and Abby looked up to see the banners of their house strung between the towers, interspersed every two with the black and red House Targaryen, and every ten with the blue and red fish of House Tully, their immediate overlords. In the front of the hall, where the crowd was thickest, the short, white hair and broad frame of Uncle Simon stood out; he was clad in a rich, black coat, Aunt Mya beside him, her dark curls thickly streaked with silver, her gown red. Her cousins were there too; Garret, with his strawberry blonde curls, not much older than herself, holding his three-year-old daughter, Gwenys, just as ruddy gold as her papa. His father, Ser Edric, leaned heavily on a cane on the other side of Uncle Simon. As she went down the line, she caught sight of Wylla, clad in Abby’s colors in a gown of deep blue with a sash of green and red, beaming brightly beside Alyn Hull, who looked dashing in a jerkin of deep, blood red and black pants tucked into shiny, polished boots.

“Welcome to Harrenhal, Your Grace,” Uncle Simon greeted Aegon before his warm gaze found hers. “Welcome home, Lady Abrogail.” The title address to her felt odd, but this was a formal occasion. Two stableboys glad in House Strong livery reached for the bridles of the horses, Aegon dismounting easily as Abby frowned in slight annoyance at the yards of fabric of her surcoat. She’d shifted to side-saddle before they’d entered the town in preparation for an easier dismount but it was still daunting.

“Allow me, my lady.” Alyn was there, grinning at her, his green eyes soft and Abby returned his bright expression with a relieved one of her own.

“Thank you, Mister Hull,” she said, grateful, and let Alyn help her from the horse and set her safely on the ground. She caught Aegon’s brief annoyance at being denied his gallant moment and she patted Alyn on the shoulder. “We have some things your mother and a Miss Bri had sent up to the castle.” Alyn’s friendly expression moved to a grateful surprise, and she could see the red coloring his tanned cheeks.

“And I thank you, my lady. I am most appreciative.” Abby felt a giddiness at making a good impression with Aegon’s friend, and she left Alyn to embrace her great-aunt and uncle, uncaring if it was improper. This was her family, and even though she’d only seen a few of them not long ago, this was different.

This was a homecoming.

The warmth of her Uncle’s hug made her chest ache further, and Abby tucked her head beneath his chin, squeezing him tightly, eyes shut and for a moment, allowed herself to pretend that there was no pomp and circumstance and that it was her father who embraced her. Uncle Simon would never replace him, but he reminded her so much of him that she would not feel guilty for clinging to the memory. He seemed to understand, for she felt him squeeze her extra hard before releasing her with a paternal kiss to her forehead and then allowed Aunt Mya, who exclaimed, “A chroí! Tá cuma álainn ort,” before she was wrapped in a cloud of softness and the smell of lilies from her aunt’s perfume. Her hands, shaking slightly with her arthritis, carefully touched the veil she wore and the carnelian necklace around her throat. “You’ve got that Westerland poise to you,” she observed, and though the words might have been taken as a slight, there was a fondness there. “Like your mother and that Lefford blood, but oh, you’ve got the wild river in you, don’t you.” Her hands gently cupped her face, and Aunt Mya’s dark eyes shone with tears. “They haven’t taken that from you. Good.”

“It’s good to finally be home,” Abby said, her voice thick with emotion. Joy, sadness, grief, relief, and a swirl of other things she could not identify. She cleared her throat, turning in her Aunt’s embrace to gesture to Aemond, Daeron, and Gwayne who had dismounted. “May I present Prince Aemond and Prince Daeron, as well as the queen’s brother, Ser Gwayne.”

“Ser Simon,” Gwayne said, sketching a bow. “I hope you do not mind my squire and I joining the household.” His grin was bright and disarming, his hand coming to clasp Daeron’s shoulder. “My sister hopes for us to keep an eye on my nephew, but I think it will be a good opportunity for my squire to also learn from a renowned knight such as yourself, Ser.” Abby bit her lip to hold in her laugh, appreciating the look of surprise and pride on her uncle’s face. “And Lady Mya, these are for you.” He produced from his green leather riding jacket a carefully wrapped package. “Your lovely niece shared with me how you once loved lacemaking. While this could not compare what you’ve made, I do hope you find use for this.”

“From the lacemaker who made my wedding dress,” Abby chimed in as her blushing aunt took the carefully wrapped package of lace. Aunt Mya’s features shifted into amusement.

“Oh, I like this one, Simon. You can sit by me at dinner, Ser Gwayne.” Uncle Simon rolled his eyes while Daeron stepped forward, sending a look at his uncle.

“And I brought this for Lady Gwenys,” Daeron said, not to be outdone by Gwayne’s flirtation. He produced a doll from his own coat, made from soft linen with carefully made brown yarn hair, and painted blue eyes with a felt crown on her head.

“Thank you very much, my prince,” Garret said, shifting Gwenys in his arms. “Can you say thank you to Prince Daeron?” Gwenys’ eyes were large in her face, gnawing shyly on her lip as she snuggled into her father, unsure of what to make of all the strange people. Daeron held the doll up higher, taking the little hand to wave at the child.

“Hello, Lady Gwenys,” Daeron said in a silly voice, blonde hair falling into his blue eyes, his own cheeks pink at all the attention. “Will you be my new friend?”

That drew the little girl out of her shyness, bubbling with giggles and reached for the toy with grabby little fingers. “Fank you!” she shouted, squealing as she clutched at the toy. Abby felt Aegon at her back and shivered as he leaned down to brush his lips against her ear.

“Was I meant to bring a gift?” he asked, his whisper harsh with anxiety. Abby pressed her lips firmly together to hold back her giggle and turned into his hold, a kiss brushed to his cheek.

“You’re fine. There’s plenty of time. I think it’ll have more meaning after the wedding.”

Abby’s gaze briefly took in the arrival of the carriages that held the king and queen, and the small council absent Ser Tyland. He’d left court with her grandfather to Castamere where his wife, Elayna, was ready to give birth to their children. Twins had been born, according to the raven that Abby had received from her cousin, and Elayna was sorry she could not bring them, but it would be nice to see her. Lady Elayna preferred the freedom of Castamere, and Abby could not blame her, not when being here among the half ruin of Harrenhal had revitalized her in a way she could not describe.

The crowd all lowered themselves in deference as the king was helped from the wheelhouse. Travelling had been difficult for him, and the progress had taken as much time as it could in order to keep him comfortable. He clutched his cane, squinting in the afternoon sun, the light catching upon his golden crown. The expression on his pale, mottled face was difficult for Abby to read, and she wondered if he was thinking about the last time he was here, when the lords of the realm declared him king over Princess Rhaenys and her son.

Larys appeared from the next carriage with Lord Jasper Wylde and the Grand Maester, a placid smile on his own features. “Uncle, you’ve outdone yourself,” he complimented. Abby noticed then that her uncle’s smile tightened, no longer meeting his eyes as he regarded Larys.

“It has been some time since our house has something so wonderful to celebrate. Not since Abrogail’s birth, I think. After so much tragedy, these halls benefit from the festivities.”

“We are looking forward to them, Ser Simon,” the queen smiled, her hand fluttering to the king’s arm. “It has been a long journey, and the king needs rest and recuperation. We shall reconvene for supper?” It was not a request. Alicent Hightower could command with a smile, and all the authority afforded to her as the mother of the realm.

“Of course, your graces,” Aunt Mya said with a smile. She clapped her hands and there was a flurry of activity, the king’s wheeled chair being brought out while Uncle Simon explained they had easily accessible rooms for the king so his time here would be comfortable.

Then there was a flurry of raven hair and blue wool as Wylla’s decorum barely kept her from completely barrelling into Abby and she clutched her friend, embracing her tightly and burying her face into her shoulder. She smelled of cinnamon and spice, familiar and comforting.

“Oh, I’ve missed you,” she cried, Wylla giving her a tight squeeze.

“I’ve missed you too! You look beautiful.” Abby pulled back and Wylla pinched her chin with a playful look on her fox features, the little scar along her mouth pulling at the smile on her face. She pushed her hand away with a shake of her head, hooking their arms together.

“As do you! Is this a new dress?” Wylla hummed in the affirmative and led the way across the tightly packed gravel. Aegon and Alyn fell in behind them, and behind them, the rest of her ladies followed. The king and queen and the rest of their immediate party were being led into the closest tower - what was ominously referred to as the Tower of Dread.

It was where Athair and Harwin had died.

As she watched the king and queen enter the tower, something ugly curled in her chest. ‘Good’, she thought savagely, though altogether unlike her. She hoped the ghosts that slept there would haunt them. The queen would not treat her so unkindly if her father were still here. The king? Well, he deserved a good haunting. Let the ghost of Lord Maegor Towers terrorize him during his stay.

The main hall at the foot of the Kingspyre Tower was a bustle of activity. Servants in the House Strong livery hurried to and fro from the small kitchens beneath the tower, sending out refreshment to the new arrivals.

“As soon as we had word of your arrival, I had a bath readied,” Wylla said. “There’s the bathhouses, of course, but I thought you’d like some private time.”

“That does sound nice,” she sighed, heading up the staircase. The next floor above the hall held the galleries and the library. Precious things that her father had loved, and his father before him.

‘What if fire seeks to claim me here? As it had them?’

The fear was ugly and painful and squeezed the breath from her lungs with its sudden onset. Wylla’s voice was muffled in her ears as she stood frozen in the stairwell.

“In the black of night, the dragon did rise.”

“What?” she choked out, turning to look through the open doors of the gallery. It was not Wylla’s voice. Abby could not even be sure it was a woman’s voice. She tugged away from Wylla’s hold to the open archway but a firm grip on her arm tugged her back. Aegon stroked her cheek, drawing her attention back to him. Abby’s cheeks colored. “I heard… I thought…”

“It’s just the wind,” he told her.

“Unfamiliar sounds,” Wylla chimed in, coming to her other side, although her eyes narrowed at her friend’s discomfort. “Come, we’ll get you settled into the bath and you can lay down. A lazy lie in.”

Abby nodded, mouth shut as everyone stared at her with worry and confusion. Catching the brief look Wylla and Aegon exchanged, Abby tugged away. She felt judged, as she had felt that morning when Aegon had shaken her out of whatever haze had taken hold of her. It was one thing to have such a lapse in front of him, but now here she was in front of their household, so many eyes on her, confused and curious. Gathering her heavy skirts in her arms, she soldiered forward, desperate to get out of her gown. If she could, she would have stripped from the surcoat in the stairway itself, but she would have gotten tangled in the fabric and likely tumbled down the stairs.

What an auspicious start to the festivities; a tragic bride felled by a broken neck.

She ignored the call of her name behind her, climbing past Uncle Simon’s apartments and office to the landing of what had once been her mother’s rooms. They were rooms that might have belonged to Rhaenyra Targaryen in another life, or Sabitha Frey or Alysanne Blackwood, or any dozens of young women in the Riverlands her brother could have taken to wife.

None of this should be hers. This castle, these lands, were not her birthright.

They were drenched in ash and screams and the knowledge of this was grasping her tighter with every step she took before she burst through the doors of her apartments. Afternoon light streaked through the large doors that opened out onto the multilevel balcony that went from her rooms up to Aegon’s chambers. Beyond would be the beautiful sight of the God’s Eye, but for now, it was the brilliant blue sky and the roses that crept along the stone and woodwork. Low couches littered the space, plush rugs faded with age, and before the fireplace and its merry flame, was the large tub draped in linens and ready and waiting.

The shadows beside the fireplace moved and Abby stilled, fear freezing her limbs until the face of the shadow appeared. The woman was older, older than the queen, mayhaps, with inky black hair that hung to her waist, a square face and storm gray eyes. In her hands, she held a woven circle of twigs, and Abby looked at the stick figure coming to shape in the center of it.

“Lady Abrogail,” she greeted, her accent like Wylla’s, like her Aunt Mya’s. “Did you leave the rest of your chattering ducklings behind?”

Buzzing filled her ears and Abby pressed her hands to her chest, fingers knotting into the fabric. “I… I… I can’t breathe.”

“If you could not breathe, you could not speak,” the woman pointed out, discarding her wood weaving on the chair. She closed the distance and grabbed Abby’s hands. “You speak, therefore you breathe. I hear your gasping. So keep doing that.”

Hands joined the woman’s to help her out of the surcoat and work the laces on her kirtle. Her vision was dark and hazy around the edges and she continued to heave and gulp for air. She swooned and arms caught her.

“What did she say, Alys?” she heard Wylla ask.

“A tincture from my chest,” was the answer. “The one in the blue bottle. And the smelling salts.” Alys River tsked and her face shimmered before her as she backed Abby to the low couch. “If we shove you in that bath now, you’ll faint and are liable to drown. A bride felled by her bathwater. What a tragic end.”

Abby blinked, her mouth dry. “What did you…”

“Alys likes to be cryptic,” Wylla’s voice drifted to her through the buzzing in her ears. She let herself be shuffled around and moved as if she were no more than a ragdoll onto the chaise, her legs propped up higher than her head on a pile of cushions. Time passed in a haze as the dizziness and the rushing passed. Alys sat on the couch beside her, holding a goblet to her mouth and Abby grimaced at the strangely sweet and medicinal taste of the thin, red liquid. Her limbs tingled and the drunken feeling gave way to a more relaxed sensation. Alys’ large, slate-gray eyes filled her vision and the elder woman tilted her head, appraising her.

“I cannot call you Little Lady anymore, can I?” she asked, but Abby didn’t think it was much of a question. “Although, you are still littler than me, wee beast.”

“Oh, so she calls you that as well?” Wylla’s voice drifted from somewhere behind the couch. “Do you feel like you can get in the bath now?”

Alys helped her up and held the goblet to her mouth once more, feeding her the strange liquid. “Someone should tell the princeling that his lady is all right, I can hear him pacing.”

“Hear him?” Sarra Frey’s voice chimed in, confused. Abby smiled wanly at Wylla as the elder girl helped her out of her chemise and into the tub. The water was still plenty warm, but not the scalding, steaming heat that it had been from when she first came into the room. “But he’s so far away.”

“You’re just not listening close enough,” Alys said and passed her the goblet. “Make sure the coinín beag drinks all of this.” The door shut behind the woman and Abby settled against the back of the tub, Wylla’ pinning her hair up.

“Doesn’t Aegon call you little rabbit as well?” she murmured against her ear.

Abby did not answer.

The confused look the servant gave Jace when he asked where the family crypts were was not something that would normally bother him, but there was no reason that Prince Jacaerys Velaryon should be asking where the family crypts of his host were.

The look in Ser Simon Strong and his wife’s eyes upon seeing him still stuck with Jace, and he tried not to keep looking over his shoulder as he strode down the gravel pathway through the family gardens. Torches were lit along the pathway, servants and guests still milling about, and the gardens were beginning to bloom as the seasons shifted. Lady Celeste’s mountain roses crept like a great, dark beast, along the outside of the Kingspyre tower, up to balconies above. Jace stole a glance up there, at the distant, flickering light behind the windows.

Abby should be here. She should be with him. This was more her family than his. Did he even have a right?

Jace straightened.

He did. He did have a right. Ser Harwin was someone in his life he cared for, who cared for him and his brothers. He had been gentle and kind - to them, to their mother.

Ser Simon looked at him as if he’d seen a ghost.

Goosebumps bloomed beneath Jace’s black tunic. Perhaps he was one.

The Sepulcher of House Strong was largely underground, but the entrance to it was a stone gazebo, just over a story tall, with seven stone pillars carved to mimic the twisting boughs of the weirwood trees. The branches held up the circular roof, the torchlight casting long shadows over the carvings of strange creatures. There was no door, simply smooth stone stairs leading into the torch lit crypts beneath.

At the foot of the stairs were a pair of doors, heavy ironwood etched with more of the weirwood motifs and little creatures that Jace realized from this close distance were meant to be the Children of the Forest. They were different from the drawings he’d seen in his books. These were spindly things, some with fins in place of ears, with large eyes and sharp little teeth. He reached to undo the latch but the door was partially ajar. Had Abrogail come down to pay her respects? Should he leave and return another day?

His mother would be here on the morrow, and as soon as Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen set foot in this place, Jace’s chance to come here would be lost.

The door made no sound as he pushed it open to slip inside and he blinked as his eyes tried to adjust to the deeper gloom. Braziers affixed to the pillars were spaced out every few dozen feet or so and as he quietly walked the path his ears could just make out the distant sound of rushing water, though he had no idea where it was coming from. Stone tombs were erected every few archways, and he paused in front of the tomb of Maegor Towers before he caught sight of the dragon relief nearby.

Targaryens were not entombed, they were burned on pyres, back to flame and ash from whence they came. But Harrenhal’s last lady was honored here.

In the stone alcove, a beautiful carved relief of Dreamfyre stood, raised on her legs, wings spread and her neck arched to call out to the sky. At her feet was a pedestal with an urn in the shape of a dragon egg.

Rhaena Targaryen, Queen of the Rising and Setting Sun. Mother of her beloved Aerea and Rhaella. Beloved by Prince Aegon, where their souls meet once more.

To always Chase the Sun.

The crack of a cane hitting the stone echoed violently along the walls and Jace choked on dusty air, panic taking over. The next tomb was that of Lord Osmund. There was just enough room to duck behind it and Jace crouched behind, his heart pounding in his ears.

“You are kind to accompany this night, Your Grace. I confess, when I extended the invitation, I was not sure you would accept.” The low voice of Lord Larys drifted through the quiet ghosts, otherworldly beneath the earth himself. Your grace… was grandfather also down here?

“Lord Lyonel was a good man,” the king rasped, his voice shaky with emotion. “The best of us, I think. No better servant to the realm than he.”

“Surely you yourself are the realm’s greatest servant, my king.”

“Mmmm, Lyonel offered good counsel. I did not listen to him as much as I should have.”

“My father served the realm with all the wise counsel of a Grand Maester and the knowledge of one of your vassals, my king. In the end, however… Even beneath his great wisdom, matters of succession were well out of hand.”

Heat burned along Jace’s neck and rushed into his cheeks. He pressed his face against the cold, stone tomb but it did little to calm him.

Driftmark. It always came back to Driftmark. It came back to screaming and blood. It came back to his words. Yes, the words of a child, but his words that he knew, without question, would prevent punishment.

‘He called us bastards.’

With such a simple sentence, Jace watched, clutched in his mother’s arms, as the king’s ire went from Aemond’s wound to the accusations that had chased Jace and his siblings all their lives. Words that he knew were cruel, that upset his mother, yet words that spoke true. Lord Lyonel had stood, struck and silent beside the Driftwood throne, and Ser Harwin had lingered by the door, unarmored and disheveled given the late hour it had been. As old as he was now, Jace knew. He knew. He knew.

Ser Simon had looked at him as if Jace were a ghost.

Jace reached up and gripped the edge of the tomb of his blood, feeling the burn of Vermax inside of him with every beat of his heart, loudly thumping in his ears.

“I did not want it to happen that way, Larys,” King Viserys finally spoke, his voice mournful and heavy.

“I know, my king. Only a Targaryen can truly master the dangers of flame. Mere mortals such as those who strove to follow your wishes could only wish to wield such understanding.” The sound of scraping metal grated on Jace’s nerves. He hit his head against the tomb and had to shove his fist in his mouth to keep from crying out.

“Only Ser Harwin-” the king began and then stopped. Jace could see the long throw of their shadows along the stone floor. They weren’t moving.

“Whatever tragedies befell, they have brought us here, my king. Have the wounds not healed as you had hoped? Your daughter and brother arrive here with their children after their long absence. Our houses will be joined in only a few days. The match you and my father discussed so many years ago is now far more advantageous, as is right, for the King’s first born son, given the unusual circumstances.”

“Perhaps you’re right, Lord Larys.” The scrape of two canes now. Jace pressed himself as far into the shadows as he could, straining to listen as the two men made their way back up the corridor beneath the eyes of the dead. He dared not breathe, he dared not make a single sound for fear of what might happen were he discovered. It felt like an eternity before the door shutting reverberated through the quiet.

Jace sat on the cold ground, frozen and still as Dreamfyre’s statue. His heart continued to pound in his ears as he tried to process exactly what he had just heard. King Viserys, a peaceful man, so afraid of any confrontation that his mother fled to Dragonstone to hide than maintain her presence at court. She’d sent him to do it for her.

He couldn’t escape the catacombs fast enough. His feet slipped along the damp stone as he raced towards the entrance. Ser Harwin would forgive him, he was certain. Now? Now, he needed to get away as fast as possible. He tripped hard up the stone stairs, his left knee and shin screaming in agony before he made it up and forced himself to slow down so as not to attract attention. What would it say to see the king’s heir racing through the gardens of Harrenhal? Jace’s lungs ached and he kept trying to remember to breathe. All he knew was that he had to get away.

How could he hold this? Should he tell his mother? What would she do? Nothing. She’d do nothing, forbidding them - forbidding him from speaking of Ser Harwin. Did he tell Abby?

It would destroy her.

Should he - Jace slammed into a figure, sending the two of them sprawling to the gravel.

“What the fuck, Jace!” Aegon snapped, aggressively shoving him off. He too was dressed for night in his own gray linen and breaches, dark circles beneath his eyes. It struck Jace, hard between his ribs, how much Aegon looked like Jace’s own mother in that moment. How much he sounded like his own mother. Jace’s palms scraped against the gravel and he heaved a breath. “What?” Aegon repeated.

Another breath and Jace felt the words strangling him, and could feel the tension in his face as he looked at his uncle, his childhood playmate, with wide, lavender eyes. Aegon stared at him and whatever annoyances were on his tongue fell. His brow furrowed. “What is it?” he asked again, less sharply this time.

Jace gulped once more for air and heard Aegon mutter something about panic attacks before the elder manhandled him up to his feet and towards one of the benches. “Get your head between your knees before you pass out,” he snapped, hand on his back to push him forward. In spite of Aegon’s annoyance, his touch was gentle, if firm.

Also like his mother.

“Breathe, you idiot,” Aegon said and sat down beside him, hand between his shoulder blades. Jace did as he was told, falling into the way things once were, where Aegon led and Jace happily followed. They could never return to those days, and Jace did not wish for it, but Seven Hells, it had been easier.

He did not know how long they sat there, listening to the lowing of dragon calls outside the walls and the shrieking of bats, the distant sound of water fowl amid the rushes outside the castle walls. He breathed in the cold air, let it ebb at the fire in his blood. He spat on the ground and finally sat up, aware that Aegon’s hand did not leave him until Jace settled against the bench.

“You said something but I couldn’t understand,” Aegon ventured with his brows raised in exaggerated curiosity. The quiet of the night filled the space between them, the gaps left when things had reached such a breaking point.

It always came back to Driftmark.

“The king…” Jace whispered, heat burning in his eyes. “T-the king, he… ordered the deaths of Lord Lyonel and… Ser Harwin.”

So... that was an ending. As always, I love that you're here, but the only way I know you're reading is if you comment! Comments let me know people are reading and are actively interested! So I'd love to hear what your favorite part of the chapter was, what your theories are, OR If you have no idea what to say, drop a tree emoji to let me know you were here <3 I promise, I'm glad you are. ALSO! I would LOVE to hear how you found this story! Was it through the AO3 search? Tumblr? Did someone recommend it? (if so, where?) (we might end at 24 chapters. I'm not quite sure yet, I'll have to see how the next few chapters go for pacing as I don't want to inundate y'all) Shoutout to @queen--kenobi for allowing me to borrow the lovely Elayna Reyne! Baby girl is here!

[ Next Chapter ]

[frieddinosaurcupcake]

Yuta's Hidden Heart

Part 3

After the unexpected confession (and the invasion of the rest of NCT 127), Yuta and Y/N decided to take a step forward in their relationship. They had shared so many years as best friends that change seemed natural... although with the boys around, normality was never an option.

---

Two days later, the group was in the break room when Yuta and Y/N walked in together. Haechan, who never missed an opportunity to joke, was the first to speak.

—Oh, look who's here! The couple of the moment!

—Shut up, Haechan. Yuta growled, but the blush on his cheeks betrayed him.

—Don't worry, hyung. I'm happy for you. Although... when are you going to give me credit for helping you confess? Haechan asked in a cheeky tone, crossing his arms.

—What credit? All you did was come out of a bush and ruin the moment. Yuta replied as he sat down on the couch.

Y/N laughed, used to the group's chaotic dynamic.

—Well, I have to admit they made things more fun.

—That's because we're geniuses. Mark added, pointing to himself with a proud smile.

—Geniuses? Doyoung repeated, giving him a skeptical look. Honestly, I'm surprised that Yuta managed to confess with you guys hanging around.

—Me too! Jaehyun said with a low laugh, receiving an elbow from Johnny.

—Seriously. Taeyong interrupted with a warm smile, “I'm really happy to see you two together. You two have something special.

Yuta and Y/N exchanged a knowing look. It was true: being together felt like the most natural thing in the world.

---

As the weeks passed, the relationship between them began to develop, although not without its challenges. Yuta had a busy schedule with the group's promotions, and Y/N was also busy with her own work. However, they always found ways to stay connected.

One night after a live performance, Yuta returned to the dorm exhausted. While the others were talking animatedly about the performance, he checked his phone. There was a message from Y/N:

"I watched the vlive, You looked amazing, as always. Rest, okay?"

Yuta couldn't help but smile as he responded.

"Thank you. I promise I'll make it up to you this weekend."

—Ah, there's that fool-in-love smile again. Johnny commented from across the room, making Yuta throw a cushion at him.

---

The weekend came, and Yuta arranged a special date for Y/N. He decided to take her to a quiet cafe on the outskirts of Seoul, away from the cameras and hustle and bustle of the city. There, they shared laughter, memories and dreams for the future.

—You know? Yuta said as he looked her in the eyes. I always thought it would be difficult to find someone who could understand my life, with all the travel, crazy schedules, and constant attention. But with you, everything seems so easy.

Y/N took his hand gently.

—That's because I've always been here. And I always will be.

The moment was interrupted by a notification on Yuta's phone. It was a message in NCT 127's group chat.

Johnny: "So how's the date going, Romeo?"

Haechan: "Propose to her now, hyung! We support them."

Taeyong: "Guys, leave Yuta alone. But Yuta, give us details later!"

Yuta sighed and turned off his phone, while Y/N laughed.

—I think we will never get rid of them.

—And you know what? I'm fine with that. Yuta replied with a smile.

Because, after all, even though they were unbearable at times, he knew that the boys would always be his family. And now, with Y/N ​​by his side, everything seemed to fall into place perfectly.

[seobnity]

⚉ characters: keeho x fem!reader

⤷(with rest of P1Harmony)

⚉ wc: 3,1k

⚉ genre: slice of life, angst, comfort, found family(?), family drama

⚉ theme: stepbrother!keeho, stepsister!reader

⚉ warnings: discussion of grief and loss (death of a parent), family abandonment themes, mention of nursing home and mobility problems

⚉ a/n: welcome or welcome back! This one was little tough to write but still very fun. I also need to say thank you to my friend who helped me with this story because I had some struggles. And also thank you so much for reading, leaving a heart or even reblogging - it means a lot to me! If you see any mistakes, please feel free to kindly correct me ♡

"So... what did he say?" Your gaze remained fixed on the phone your step brother now held in his hand, having just picked it up from the table when a notification appeared.

Keeho didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he read the message from his father—a response you both had been anticipating, though you already knew exactly what it would say. Keeho's silence only confirmed your suspicions.

"I can’t come, right?" You lowered your eyes to your cup of coffee, your voice trembling slightly, betraying the emotions you were struggling to suppress.

"It’s not... that." At last, Keeho spoke, though his voice lacked conviction.

"No?" You raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze. "Then what is it? What’s the reason I can’t come with you?" Before Keeho could answer, you cut him off. "Let me guess," you said, pausing for effect, your tone edging on bitter. "The place where you’re supposed to meet isn’t ‘appropriate’ for someone like me. Am I right?"

"Y/N," 

"Keeho, don’t." You shook your head, a small sigh escaping your lips. You were so tired of his father’s behavior, always acting like you were never truly part of the family. "I’m just... It makes me sad, you know? It’s like I never mattered to him. Which doesn’t make any sense after everything he has done for me and my mom." You paused, taking a moment to collect your thoughts.

This whole... situation that began after your mom passed away left you angry, sad, and confused. You felt many emotions at once—overwhelmed, like a battle raging within you, where every feeling fought for dominance. It always ended with you in tears, wondering how things had spiraled to this point.

"I think it’s just funny how Mom always said he treated me like his own daughter. But now? He tells me we’ll practically be complete strangers after she’s gone. I mean, he has a point, but c'mon? How can you say that to someone you basically raised?" Your frustration spilled over as your voice broke slightly. "He was my father figure, my dad, for over a decade. And now? Now he’s acting like all those years never even happened. Like he's completely fine with calling me a stranger. It hurts. It seriously hurts," you looked up, trying to hold in your tears. You promised yourself not to cry about this again, yet, it always ends up like this.

Keeho watched you sadly, but more importantly, he listened. He didn’t excuse his father like others did with sentences such as, “Not everyone can handle that. You’re lucky he took care of you for this long,” or, “Oh, he’s still a young man. He needs to go out and find someone.” Comments like these only made you feel like a burden. But Keeho was the only one who truly understood your point of view, and for that, you were always grateful.

Once you calmed down a bit, you continued your rant. All those bottled-up emotions came rushing out in waves. Knowing yourself, you’d probably feel bad later for making Keeho sit through all of this—but that was a problem for future you.

"And let’s not forget that he found some chick not even two months after Mom died and married her five months into the relationship." You shook your head in disbelief.

Even though the words had come from your own mouth, you still couldn’t believe them. He and your mom had been in a happy marriage—everyone saw that. It was obvious, even to strangers. People could see how healthy their relationship was; it was almost sickening how sweet they were to each other. They had known each other since childhood, so their bond wasn’t just romantic—it was also built on a strong friendship. They always had each other’s backs, always went the extra mile for one another. And yet, with your mom’s death, all of that just... disappeared?

That didn’t sit right with you. And you had a theory about why that could have happened—a theory that, sadly, felt too accurate. You knew Keeho thought the same thing as you, though neither of you wanted to say it out loud because it wouldn’t change a thing.

You hunched over the table once again and took a sip of your coffee, which had already gone cold. Keeho, on the other hand, didn’t have to deal with this problem; his coffee was long gone—a complete contrast to you as a slow drinker, him being a quick one.

"Look, Y/N, I promise that as soon as I save enough money to buy a proper house, I’ll take you out of this nursing home." Finally, it was Keeho’s turn to speak. "I know you don’t deserve this. I know you don’t deserve to live... here." He eyed the room you were both in, and you did the same, even though you were here 24/7 and knew the room like the back of your hand.

Plain white walls with one small window overlooking empty fields and plain white furniture (two chairs were actually gray) that you had to buy yourself because this nursing home didn’t provide furniture for the rooms. And that was completely fine; you could at least make it to your liking. But buying furniture, even for one room, could get pretty expensive. You didn’t have money to throw around, especially when your stepdad—or ex-step dad—didn’t help with anything. He was the one who made you find a nursing home for yourself, in the first place.

To be honest, you were forced to find one because he casually told you that you had four months to get out of the house because he couldn’t take care of you anymore. Which you knew was total bullshit, but everyone around him bought it and actually praised him for doing it for so long. They never asked you about your opinion or how you felt. Only Keeho did.

"You get used to it," you shrugged. "I plan to put up some posters on the walls. I don’t know how I'll do it yet, but I’ll figure something out," you added, still eyeing the somehow depressing white walls.

"That doesn’t change the fact that you don’t deserve to live like this. To live here, in the middle of nowhere," Keeho insisted. "Have you ever been outside since you got here? No, right? Because there’s nowhere to go, and all around you are just old people you can’t have a proper conversation with." He looked you in the eyes, and the two of you held the gaze for a moment before you turned your attention back to your coffee, gripping the cup tightly.

"You know what?" Keeho said, pulling out his phone, which he had pocketed after receiving his father’s text earlier. "I won’t go. I know he’ll actually be happier being alone with his chick rather than having me around," he muttered while typing. "And... done." He set his phone down after a moment, having apparently responded to a few other messages as well.

"Are you sure about this?" You raised your eyebrows, not entirely convinced he was making the right decision. "I mean... I don’t want to hold you back from spending time with your dad," you admitted honestly.

Yes, Keeho and his dad didn’t have the best relationship, but he was still Keeho’s father, after all. You also knew Keeho rarely visited him unless it was something important—which it never was. His dad only invited him over for food or to "hang out" to get credit and admiration from others, pretending to care about his son when it suited him.

Keeho gave you a look of disbelief, as if wondering how you could even say such a thing. "I’d much rather be here with you, my little sister, than with my dad."

You searched his face, trying to see if he was lying, but his sincerity shone through, and his words warmed your heart. "You meant stepsister," you corrected him, even though you knew this term, after your mom's death, wasn’t also accurate anymore.

"Nope, I meant sister," he said firmly. "My dad may see you as a stranger now, but to me, you’ll always be my little sister."

Thanks to his sincerity, a small smile tugged at your lips. "Can you stop calling me little? I’m twenty-one already," you teased, shifting the topic slightly to avoid getting emotional again.

"But you’re still younger than me, lil’ sis," he said with a sweet, teasing smile.

To be honest? You weren’t complaining. That teasing was exactly what you needed—a distraction from all the heavy emotions swirling in your mind.

Suddenly, Keeho’s phone buzzed again with another notification. This time, you paid it no attention, focusing instead on your coffee, which was growing even colder in your hands. It was probably his dad pretending to be disappointed that Keeho wasn’t coming over, but honestly? You didn’t care.

"Do you want to stay overnight at my flat?" Keeho asked, catching you completely off guard.

"What?" You furrowed your eyebrows, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said," he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Do you want to stay overnight at my flat? It shouldn’t be a problem if I take you out, right?" A playful smile appeared on his lips.

"Well, no," you said, shaking your head. "It’s a little sudden, but I just need to tell the caregivers here that I’ll be leaving and coming back tomorrow. That’s all," you explained.

"Perfect." He smacked the table with his hand, signaling it was time to go. "Just grab a jacket and whatever else you need. You still have everything at my place from the last sleepover forever ago," he reminded you, and you nodded.

"Could you please put the cups in the sink?" you asked. Keeho nodded, stood up, grabbed both cups, and placed them in the sink as you requested.

The kitchen was part of your room, so it only took him a few steps to complete the task. While Keeho waited, you released the brakes on your wheelchair and moved towards the drawers where you kept your belongings. You pulled out a light jacket (just in case it got chilly outside) and your backpack, which held your essentials. You also grabbed your phone and charger—items you never left behind.

"Ready?" Keeho asked, taking your backpack and jacket for you to keep your hands free.

"Yes." You nodded with a small smile, already feeling happy about leaving this place, even if it was just for a night. The two of you exited your room, you locked the door, and headed towards the elevator. Keeho pressed the button, and you waited.

"Which floor are the caregivers on?" he asked as the elevator doors closed once you were inside.

"The first one," you replied, and he pressed the button. "You can wait in your car while I talk to them, okay? It won’t take long, but they’ll probably have some questions," you added with a small chuckle.

"Okay, if you say so."

When the elevator dinged, signaling it had reached the first floor, you wheeled yourself out while Keeho continued to the ground floor. You made your way to the caregivers’ office, hoping someone would be there. Fortunately, luck was on your side—it was one of your favorite caregivers.

You explained your plans to her, and she was genuinely thrilled to hear about them. Her excitement warmed your heart. She asked a few questions, mostly out of curiosity about where you were going and who you’d be with, since you rarely left your room. In fact, you never left. There was simply nothing to do, either in the nursing home or outside, so you didn’t see the point in going out.

Once that was done, you made your way back to the elevator, went to the ground floor, and found Keeho waiting for you, leaning casually against his car.

"How does it feel to be outside?" Keeho asked smugly, grinning as he opened the passenger door for you.

"Boring," you shrugged as you moved from your wheelchair into the car seat. You were never much of an outdoors person anyway.

"Oh, come on. Can you try being a little positive?" he teased, shaking his head in mock exasperation before closing the door.

He walked to the trunk, loaded your wheelchair inside, and finally settled into the driver’s seat. Keeho started the car and pulled away from the nursing home. As the building vanished behind you, you felt a huge sense of relief — it felt like something heavy had finally been lifted from your chest, even if it was just for a few hours. It was interesting how much lighter and happier you already felt, knowing you wouldn’t be there for at least a little while.

The ride to Keeho’s flat took about an hour. Yeah, you could say it’s not that far; you could travel that by yourself, but it takes an hour by car. If you wanted to take the bus, it would take at least two hours, and from the nursing home, there’s only one bus that runs twice a day. You didn’t want to stress about that, nor were you exactly thrilled about traveling for that long, both there and back. Plus, the bus tickets weren’t exactly cheap either.

During the drive, the two of you talked about random topics to pass the time and even had a mini singing session to the songs playing on the radio.

When you arrived at the apartment complex where Keeho lived, he unloaded your wheelchair from the trunk while you unfastened your seatbelt and opened the door. Once you were back in your wheelchair, Keeho grabbed your backpack and jacket from the car, locked it, and the two of you headed inside the building.

When you reached the door to his flat, Keeho unlocked it and let you in first. You were immediately hit by the familiar smell of apple and cinnamon — Keeho’s favorite candle scent. 

To avoid being in Keeho’s way, you moved into the living room, where a big surprise awaited you. At first, it gave you a bit of a heart attack, but you quickly realized it was just Keeho’s dumb friends, who had gradually become your friends too, and you cherished them dearly.

"Y/N!" five boys shouted in cheerful unison the moment they saw you. All of them rushed over to greet you, each giving you a warm hug.

Well, except for Theo, who was also very excited to see you after a long time, but he was smart enough to wait for his turn to hug you, so he wouldn’t get squished by his friends while they were trying to group-hug you.

You didn’t even have time to properly take a look at the living room, which had been turned into a cozy haven by the boys, but there would surely be time to appreciate it later.

"Hi, guys," you said, still a little in shock (though, of course, you hugged them back), happy to see them regardless. "What are you all doing here?" you asked, curious.

"Keeho texted us that you’d be here overnight, so we decided to organize a proper sleepover," Jiung answered enthusiastically. "We got loads of movies, especially horror ones, fluffy blankets, and tons of snacks and drinks," he added with a big grin, clearly proud of what they’d pulled together while you and Keeho were on your way.

You looked up to see Keeho entering the living room, which was way too small for all of you, but no one seemed to care. After all, it was about having a good time with your friends, not about how small Keeho’s flat was. Keeho glanced at you with a small smile; no words were needed. Yet, you wanted to say thank you, to somehow show him your gratitude, but you couldn’t, because you were suddenly lifted into the air.

"What the—" you looked around and quickly spotted the culprit who had picked you up from your wheelchair. "Intak! What did I tell you about randomly picking me up? You can’t just do that!" you scolded him in a nagging tone but couldn’t hide the smile creeping onto your face.

"I know, I know," he acknowledged with a nod as he carried you towards the couch. "But you have to understand, I missed you way too much and just couldn’t resist holding you in my arms." He flashed you a sweet smile, complete with puppy eyes that always worked on you. That’s why whenever the boys wanted something from you (or did something that might have made you mad), they would use Intak and his puppy eyes to soften you up and get their way.

"Sure," you said, playfully rolling your eyes, though you couldn’t help letting out a chuckle, which made Intak smile even wider. "What a romantic you are."

"Me? Always." As soon as he said it, you heard fake gagging noises from the other boys, especially the younger ones, which only made you laugh; how much you’d missed this.

By the time your conversation ended, Intak had already reached the couch and carefully set you down. You ended up right in the middle, with the best view and easy access to all the snacks and drinks the boys had brought.

"Hey, I was supposed to be the one sitting on one of her sides!" Intak complained, frowning when he noticed Soul and Jongseob, the two youngest of the group, already sitting on either side of you with a big blanket draped over all of you.

"Hm, yikes," said Jongseob, barely paying attention to Intak’s whining as he grabbed some chips from the table. "Sounds like a you problem," he looked at Intak with a triumphant grin, and Soul quickly nodded in agreement.

"These kids, really," Intak muttered to himself, turning toward the armchair right next to the couch. "Seriously?" he said, frustration kicking in.

Theo was already lounging in the armchair, his legs draped over one armrest and a bowl of popcorn balanced in his lap. Without a word, Theo simply shrugged, clearly having no intention of moving. Intak groaned and turned back towards the couch, ready to claim a spot near your legs, only to find Jiung and Keeho already seated there.

"This is impossible," he sighed dramatically, collapsing in defeat on the floor in front of the table — the only space left for him to occupy.

All of you (except for Intak, of course) burst into small fits of laughter at his misfortune. But the moment passed quickly as Jiung pressed play on the TV remote, starting the first of many movies for the night.

With Soul and Jongseob snuggled up on either side of you, your arms wrapped protectively around them under the blanket, you let out a slow exhale through your nose. A wave of contentment washed over you as you relaxed into the moment, savoring it to the fullest.

[ilyuu-archive]

update!

get ready folks this is a rollercoaster of emotions but uh, just to put this out here, it isn’t exactly good news

alright, so i think i’m gonna go ahead and quit writing for this blog. yeah, not exactly the best start to this - you think as a writer i’d know what words to use.

before anything - nope, i am not going to deactivate my blog, next best thing is to archive it since there’s so many memories that i like to at least keep, of my moots and of just a lot of things in general that i like to memorialize and a lot of writings and posts.

i want to keep them here because i want someone, whoever comes across it, to read whichever one and feel some semblance of comfort; that’s the main reason why i made this blog in the first place and that’s how i intend to leave it.

oh uh, yeah, for the reasons why i’m quitting, i can technically list a few :

genshin burnout : i don’t feel as strongly as i do for the game anymore, not as excited, even as fontaine was released, and stopped playing it a few months back. so, y’know, as genshin-centric this blog is, it’s technically a bit hard to try and get into something that you long lost interest for.

school : it’s catching me off-guard every time and even though i found a rhythm with my classes and schedule, it’s only asking for more of my time and, quite literally demanding. i’ll be honest and say that i can’t juggle a blog with a post every day and stay consistent with my schoolwork and what’s expected of me. i need to start thinking about my future.

spiraling thoughts : yup, you read that right; i’m back at it again with me thinking that my writing isn’t good enough and am doubting my skills as a writer as a whole, especially with my way of writing that as his poetic touch to it that’s making me wonder if it’s even worth anything at all.

with that, i think i just need to start writing for myself again because i haven’t felt that feeling for literally a while now.

have i thought about this for a while now? i have actually, somewhere in the middle of august but i was really, really hesitant for a lot of reasons.

said reasons being mainly my moots. i don’t like the ideas of leaving any of them behind at all, especially with them being the main reason why i love opening this app every day, seeing them flood my dash with everything that happened the night before, saying good morning, and seeing them in my notifs and inbox with their chaos and genuineness. i have so many memories here that i consider so dear to me because of each and every one of them, making my day and night, and… i don’t know, it’d suck to lose all of them.

@mikacynth : you were my first moot and i know i’ve mentioned and said this so many times to the point that you’d probably get sick of it but it did and does mean a lot to me knowing that you opened a door for me to meet so many others that made writing and just being on here amazing. you’re just so damn cool, creative, and nice and i’m so, so happy that i met you.

@floraldresvi : i don’t remember how i met you, and i’m so sorry for that vi, but you’re the kindest, absolutely gentle and attentive person i know and i just wonder how i ever got the chance to talk to you and be moots. i wish you nothing but the best because that’s all you deserve and more and you better keep that in mind vi.

@st0pthatsgay : this was a strangers to friends to lovers arc fr!! sorry i couldn’t help that, do you know how long i wanted to make that joke? but seriously, oli, you and your unbridled chaos and energy never fails to make my dash and quite literally everyone else who follows you like a rom-com movie or something; i’m so glad that i can call you a moot and one that i cherish so, so much.

@papiliotao : rei, you made my day whenever you drop in one of your small blurbs into my inbox and i get the space to just write whatever comes to mind; it was a little thing we had and, i don’t know, i loved it. i love it still a lot. it was like a duo we had and always made me smile with whatever we talked about, maybe just about writing in general or the cats that you always see. i’m just sorry that we won’t be able to have our wedding soon. really.

@supernova25 : bestie, i still remember those times about the ai bots!! i still think about them a lot!! it was fun!! in general, you’re always a lot of fun to talk to, and it could be about anything and it’d fly off the roof. also your asks about the most random of things has definitely made me feel better on my worst of days just to put that out there.

@soleillunne : i’d make a joke about you running up for the title of creator of angst and all that but you’ve always been so sweet so let me just push that aside, considerate as well; don’t think i didn’t see you send me links of anything scaramouche related because i do and i appreciate that so much

@hollythius-rising : YOU AND YOUR THEME CHANGES DON’T THINK I DON’T NOTICE THEM you’re also very very sweet and chaotic when it comes to your taste in tall purple men in lab coats but we don’t talk about that aosjksjs just that it’s always been a pleasure to talk to you whenever we have the chance to

@mondaymelon : YOU. we vibe with each other a lot like radio waves and it got me all giddy, and i’d just drop a lot of memes into your inbox just so i could see how you’d react only for you to give me a taste of my own medicine when you do the same thing 100 times more effectiveaisjsjs

@venusflwers : those late nights of playing roblox with you makes me feel so, so happy, you have no idea. it’s filled with crack with whatever you say and you somehow make a horror game feel like some comedy instead i swear; you’re literally the most unhinged and funniest person i met and i love that about you so much

@kazumist : it’s like a parent watching their kid grow up and then completely surpass them in terms of height. yeah, that’s you akiaki!! always frothing over your writing, your drabbles, because it had that soft and domestic feeling to them that i absolutely love to the moon and back

@m1shapanda, @snobwaffles, @vennnnn-diagram : you three are, excuse me for my language, so fucking amazing. i always wanted to talk to you so many times and even when i did, always hoped that we could’ve talked a bit more. misha, you’re so cool and i always wanted to just ramble with you; that and your art is so pretty and soft and just so DAMN COOL did i mention that? snob, you detective, you and your curse arts that make me laugh as much as pour bleach on my eyes (/j), you’re just so supportive and i really like that about you. ven, i wished we could’ve talked a lot more too with how just vibe with everyone so quickly and easily - you’re just as amazing, really.

and to all of my other moots, the same goes to you, even with the ones i didn’t talk to as much - just being moots with you, knowing that someone liked me like i liked them made me feel more belong on here and more a part of something. i’ve never been a part of something like this, and know so many people and to know that i mean something to them? yeah, that really, really means a lot to me.

i’d probably just be a lurker on here than anything… haven’t really thought that far, only that i know that i can’t stay on here any longer without feeling guilty, burdened, stressed, or all of the above. or maybe just start off as a smaller blog again without any sense of obligation because ever since i’ve hit 500, which was a while ago, that’s what this blog started to feel like with each bit of time that passed.

i’ve enjoyed it, of course i did, don’t get me wrong! i’ve just been enjoying it less than i did when i started off, that feeling of accomplishment and joy and pride at myself numbing a bit more with each milestone i passed. that’s just all me though, i’m sure.

anyways, not right now though, maybe just around the weekends when i actually have time to spare. so, until then, i’ll stick around here as much as i can. other than that, i don’t have much else to say other than thank you.

that i hope that you’ll keep doing what you love, whatever that is, despite the highs and lows. just know that the community you’re in is filled with people who love you through and through and that i do too - that you’ll do what you love because you want to, not because you should.

[all-the-things-2020]

Late Night Talking - Chapter Ten

Summary: The aftermath of the movie premiere.

Word Count: 3150+

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: mentions of parent death, issues with body image

Tag list: @rhoorl @avastrasposts @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @gwendibleywrites

We slept late the next morning. It was after nine when I crawled out of bed to use the bathroom. Dieter was still passed out cold, lying face down with his face crammed into a pillow, his bare ass poking out from under the covers. I took a look at myself in the mirror and wished I hadn’t. My hair was sticking up in all directions and there were bags under my eyes. It was a far cry from my red carpet look.

I decided to take a shower and start over with my hair, rather than try to tame it the way it was. When I got out, I slipped into a pair of leggings and a t-shirt, deciding to forgo a bra, at least for the time being. It was going to be a lazy day, after all.

Dieter was still asleep. I leaned over the bed to cover him up and he grunted. “Why are you so obsessed with my butt?,” he mumbled.

”I’m not obsessed with your butt,” I told him. “I just didn’t want it to catch cold.” I tucked the comforter around him and patted his bottom. “Go back to sleep, Deet. You’ve earned it.”

”What time?”

”Doesn’t matter. Go to sleep.”

He didn’t argue with me. I knew the press junket had been stressful and tiring. He deserved to get some rest. 

I found my purse in the living room and pulled out my phone. I’d managed to remember to turn it off last night, so the battery was still at 65% when I powered it on. All my apps were lit up with notifications, but I went first to my texts. 

SAM: You look GORGEOUS!!!!

ME: Aw, thanks. It’s all thanks to the stylists. Did my hair and makeup and everything. Felt like a giant Barbie doll. LOL

It was close to midday back East, so I knew she was probably at work and wouldn’t respond right away, so I jumped over to Instagram. I followed the studio’s page and I knew they would have posted photos from last night. 

There were several pics from the red carpet, including one of me and Dieter. It was weird seeing myself all glammed up, standing beside him as he posed effortlessly for the camera. I could see that I was a bit stiff and awkward, despite the elegant dress and high heels. Still, I looked nice. Not bad for a first time, I thought. Then I started reading the comments.

She’s OLD.

Come on, girl, at least dye that gray hair. Woof.

Thought Bravo had better taste than that. 

Def a publicity stunt. Prob trying to hide that he’s gay AF.

If they think we’ll fall for that, he needs a new publicist. Lots of actresses they could have hired to help his image. Barf.

I think she looks nice. For a middle aged woman. 

There were positive comments, of course, many of them, but my eye went right to the negative ones. After all, most of the positive comments were simple heart emojis or “they look so cute” or other generic messages. The negative ones were more pointed.

I closed Instagram. Twitter would be even worse — there were so many trolls on there that I hardly ever posted anything anymore. Maybe tumblr would be kinder. I was wrong.

There were several posts under the hashtag “dieter bravo” that displayed one of the Getty photos from the night before and had commentary along the lines of “I’m glad he’s so happy” and “Aww, they made it red carpet official” but there was also lots that claimed to be insanely jealous of me for being beside him.

Oof, not to be that girl, but I could pull off a red carpet look better than that, just saying.

Not sure what he sees in her, but you do you, Dieter.

He looks AMAZING as always. Wish she’d worn something better.

She looks like she doesn’t want to be there. I’m sure it’s overwhelming and all but at least look happy to be next to him. I’d kill to be on the red carpet with him.

Ugh, I hate her, lol. Seriously, does anyone else think he’ll be back on the market soon? She is so not his type. Dieter fucking Bravo is a party boi.

I could feel tears stinging at the back of my eyes. It was silly — I knew they were making the comments out of jealousy or sheer assholery — but it was like being teased or excluded on the playground in elementary school. It still hurt.

Fortunately, my phone pinged with an incoming text.

SAM: Those stylists couldn’t have done it without something amazing to start with — YOU! I am so proud of you, chickie! You rocked that red carpet. And Dieter 🥵Don’t know how you manage to survive around him without spontaneously combusting. Dude is HOT.

ME: You don’t know how badly I needed that, chickie! Been looking at comments on social and people are brutal.

SAM: Fuck them. I’ve been bragging on you all day. Everyone thinks you look fabulous. Trolls gonna troll.

I smiled. Leave it to Sam to cheer me up. Then another text came in, this time from Simone.

SIMONE: Girl! You were on fire 🔥 last night. Your pic is all over campus. Kids are all planning to go see the movie with Miss Emily’s boyfriend this weekend. Eileen had such a sourpuss when I saw her, lol. 

ME: Thanks! Been seeing some haters online so glad the kiddos got my back. And I’m ROTFL over Eileen 🤣

SIMONE: One of my kids was IRATE over some of the stuff people were saying about you. She was going OFF! I didn’t even know she knew where the library was, lol. If a 15yo can see through their b.s., so can you.

“Hey.” Dieter came stumbling out of the bedroom with his hair sticking straight up and one hand in his boxer shorts scratching his ass. If only the fans could see him now!

”Hey yourself,” I said. “You need coffee?”

He nodded as he shuffled toward the kitchen island. “I got it,” he said. “You looking at photos from last night?”

”I was, but people are mean. Then I got a couple of texts that cheered me up.”

”People are fucking assholes online,” he said as he dumped water and coffee grounds into the machine. He slopped water onto the counter but didn’t wipe it up. He was messier than usual when he was only half awake. “First thing Carmen told me when she signed on was never read the comments.”

While the coffee was brewing, he fished his phone out of his pants, which were draped over one of the dining room chairs. He slumped onto a stool at the island and started swiping. “You looked so good last night,” he said. Then he yawned and scratched his head. “Anyone who says different has their head up their own ass or is just jealous. Or both.” 

The scent of coffee wafted through the air and a shaft of sunlight lanced through a gap in the vertical blinds. The kitchen was illuminated with golden light and Dieter’s hair became a halo of fire around his head, just for a second. Who gives a fuck what Prissy McDickface on Instragram thinks? I’m the one here with Dieter, watching him smile at pictures of us while he’s waiting for his coffee. And if Dieter could smile before his first infusion of caffeine of the day, I knew he was truly happy. Because of me.

*******************************************

The movie was a hit. It was number one at the box office that weekend, and Dieter spent most of Saturday afternoon fielding phone calls and texts from Carmen and his agent. He looked every inch a Hollywood star as he sat on a lounge chair beside the pool with his Ray-Ban sunglasses on and his phone up to his ear. 

“Yeah, set it up,” he said. “Can’t hurt to meet with them.” He looked at me over the tops of his shades and winked.

”Shit, I can’t believe all this,” he said when he’d hung up. “Carmen has ten journalists lined up to interview me. And half of them are from legit outlets, not just bloggers.” He laughed. “Who knew a twenty minute part would get so much attention?”

We had skimmed some of the reviews online and most of them had been positive. Many of them mentioned Dieter’s performance as one of the highlights of the film; several had used the phrase “Bravo’s back.”  

“And David has two meetings booked with producers this week,” Dieter continued. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself but this might be the thing to get the ball rolling again.”

“I hope so,” I said. I knew that Dieter really wanted to get back to the level he’d enjoyed earlier in his career, where he was taken seriously as an actor. He’d taken just about any part the last few years, just to keep the money flowing but while movies like Cliff Beasts might be popular with fans they weren’t taken seriously by critics. And he admitted he’d been phoning it in before he’d gone to rehab. This film was the first project he’d worked on since and apparently he’s done a very good job. 

“Just don’t get too famous and forget about the little people like me,” I added.

“I will never forget about you,” he said seriously. “And you are definitely not one of the ‘little people’ in my life. You’re huge, baby.”

“Yeah, that’s what some of the trolls online are saying,” I joked.

“Fuck them. I’ve been with skinny women and it’s like hugging a skeleton. You’re real, Em. Nothing fake about you. Which is one of the many, many reasons that I love you.”

******************************************

We had finally finished off the leftover Chinese food, so we decided to go out for dinner Saturday night. Nothing fancy, just a little hole in the wall Mexican place that Dieter was fond of, and not just because the food was good. The owners were very protective of his privacy and didn’t laugh at his clumsy attempts at Spanish. His father’s parents had been born in Ecuador, and he still had some distant cousins in South America, but Dieter and his family had only ever spoke English.

”My dad can get by pretty well,” he’d explained to me once. “He does business with one of his cousins who lives in Buenos Aires, and he sometimes visits his aunt in Santiago, but Freddy and I never learned. Hell, I took French in high school just to fuck with everyone. Freddy took German, of course.”

Although they’d come from Ecuador, Dieter’s grandparents were descended from German and Italian immigrants. “My dad’s grandpa Antonio Bravo married one of the Diefenbach girls,” Dieter had explained. “Huge Romeo and Juliet vibes there. The two families were rivals in the button business.”

My own skill in Spanish was limited to the Spanglish I’d picked up by osmosis from living in Southern California (like Dieter, I’d take French in school, because I thought it sounded fancy). But everyone at Ramon’s was friendly and very patient with our attempts to do more than just ask for what was on the menu.

”Buenos noches,” our waiter said as we sat down at our table, tucked away in the back. ”El jefe said you get free margaritas because the movie is doing so well.”

”Gracias,” said Dieter. “Um, dos platos de empanadas, por favor. Y los margaritas.”

”Muy bien! And my sister in law saw the movie last night. She said tell you she really liked it if I saw you.”

”Tell her thanks, man,” Dieter had exhausted his capacity for Spanish already. He was still running on fumes from the press junket. I could see it in his eyes.

After a delicious dinner of empanadas and enchiladas — not to mention two extremely generous margaritas — we went back to Dieter’s place and collapsed on the couch.

”If I went there too often, I’d gain thirty pounds,” Dieter said, unbuttoning his pants. 

“The food is amazing,” I agreed, glad I was wearing stretchy pants. “You want to put a movie on before we succumb to the food coma?”

”You read my mind.” He grabbed the remote off the coffee table. We were only about twenty minutes into Jurassic Park when I felt his head slump onto my shoulder. He was out. I maneuvered him into a more comfortable position so he wouldn’t wake up with a stiff neck. I never saw the end of the movie. I was tired, too.

**************************************************************

We lay in bed, both of us wide awake at two a.m. after our nap on the couch. “Whatcha thinking about?” Dieter asked, his hand idly playing with my hair.

”Not much. Just feeling cozy. How about you?”

”I’m thinking how I could get used to this,” he said. “Dinner, falling asleep on the couch, lying in bed talking about stuff … I wish you didn’t have to go back home tomorrow.” He kissed my forehead. “You know you can move in any time you want.”

”It’s tempting but it would be a hell of a commute.” 

“Quit your job. Get a new one. There are plenty of schools. You’d still be in the same union, right? Still get your pension?”

I rolled onto my back. “Deet, it’s not that easy. There aren’t all that many school library positions out there and they pay well enough that people don’t leave. Or they’re part-time at elementary schools. And other positions … yeah, I could do other stuff, but your retirement is based off of your final two years salary. If I took a pay cut, I’d get less so I’d have to work longer.”

“Jeez, you sound like my dad and Freddy. ‘Be practical, Deiter. Plan ahead, Dieter. Invest wisely, Dieter’,” he grumbled.

”I have to be,” I said. “I only have myself to rely on. You know my parents didn’t leave me anything.”

Dieter sighed. “You aren’t alone, Em. You have me.”

”For now,” I said. “I want to believe this is forever, Deet, I really do, but I just can’t jump off the cliff yet.” I sat up, hugging my knees. “I know you think I’m being too cautious, and I know it probably hurts you to hear me say stuff like ‘for now’ when you want to hear ‘forever’ but …”

He sat up and put his arm around me. “I get it,” he said quietly. “I get you. And you’re probably right. I’m too much like my mom. I need you to balance me out.”

”You don’t talk about her much,” I prompted. I knew she had passed away not long after he’d won his Oscar, but that was public knowledge.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah, I’m still working through some shit in therapy,” he said. “My mom … she was an artist. Painting, sculpture, stuff like that. And that was the love of her life. Art. Creating. And once she created something, she moved on. She wasn’t interested anymore once a piece was done.”

I kissed his shoulder. “You don’t have to talk about her if you don’t want to,” I said. 

“When she and Dad got divorced, she moved to New York City,” he said. “That’s why I went there for college. But about two months after I got there, she moved to Europe. So I went there after I graduated. She was in Italy, so I went to Milan. Then she moved to Madrid, then Stockholm — god, Stockholm was so freaking cold — and then I got tired of following her and came to L.A.” He laid his head on my shoulder. “I was going to visit her in Switzerland after I won the Oscar. She’d actually called me and said she was proud of me. But I had a movie to do first and … it was a car accident in the Alps. She and her latest guy were on their way to Venice and a dude in a Maserati blew a turn and crashed into them.”

”Oh, Deet, I’m so sorry,” My own parents had been ill before they passed, so I’d had some warning, at least. 

He shook his head. “Hey, we’re supposed to be celebrating this weekend, not confessing our darkest moments. So let’s talk about something happy. Like my bank account after the movie earns out and I start getting some checks. We should go somewhere. Romantic getaway.”

”I do have a week off for Thanksgiving,” I said. My aunt always invited me up to her place for Thanksgiving and I always declined and ended up at some friend or co-worker’s Thanksgiving dinner. It was not my favorite holiday.

”Hey, see, making plans for the future.” He nudged me with his shoulder.

”It’s like two months away,” I reminded him. “Not that far in the future.”

”Baby steps, Em. Baby steps.” Then he kissed me and we stopped talking for a while.

******************************************

As I was driving home on Sunday afternoon, my phone rang. I usually don't like to use the Bluetooth, because it distracts me from the road, but I recognized the number. It was Sam.

”Hey, Sam, what’s up?” She rarely called; we both preferred to text. Our grown up version of passing notes in class.

“Just checking that you’re still alive after spending three whole days with Dieter,” she said. Her tone was joking, so I knew nothing serious had prompted the call. “Really, I just wanted to hear your voice. I saw the movie and it just doesn’t seem real that you and Dieter are … I mean, it sounds stupid, but I had to make sure you were still you.”

”I get it,” I said. “Hey, I’m on the freeway right now. Can I call you back when I get home? We can have a good talk. I’ll tell you all about the dress and the red carpet and … maybe you can give me some advice?”

”You better not be thinking of breaking up with him, Em. He’s the best thing that’s happened to you in a long time.”

”No, no, kind of the opposite. Shit, use your signal, you asshole! Sorry, some dude in a Tesla just cut me off. I’ve got to hang up. Talk to you when I get home, chickie.”

”Stay safe, chickie.”

I ended the call and tried to concentrate on the traffic. It was an incredibly long and tedious drive to make every day. There was no way I could keep my job and be with Dieter more than just on the weekends. And I would be foolish to quit for a guy I’d only known for a few months. Right? 

I shoved the thought to the back of my mind. Sam would help me figure it all out. She always did. 

[spaceyflowerswriting]

💬 Continuation to Eugene's text one if you can please.... also i decided tht can the sender be like a close, really close friend of eugene and yuseing that goes to the same school and knows what shit he does (i am trying so hard to not make an actual story for this seriously, i feel like i will and ship this y/n and eugene hard🥲)

》Oi foureyes! I have some spare so tell me!

》please damnit! Tell me...

》 Even tho i have known you for ages you only eat/ drink things me or yuseong choose

》 you never tell us your preferences! Like 'just choose whatever yoh want I'll payand eat whatever it is' and you actually eat even the shittiest of combo i could come up with!

》 Also you know i met this guy in our school named yeonwoo and he might be your tripket y'know, you might know him he is good looking, smart, on top of his classes, wears glasses like you and is actually quite famous, a newtuber.

》 I think i like him... he also has a good personality unlike someone... he is really nice as well

》actually you know what if you don't wanna hang out this weekend should i ask him out for a date?

》 before you say anything like 'go get him a gift and leave me alone'

》 i already did and bitc* please you knew what you were getting yourself into when you became my friend now deal with it.

》 You have to deal with it. No other options

》 also can i get that hot guy's no. Who is always with you, the one with the nice personality, the 3rd and 4th affiliate prez i think?

》 oh, and that weird mask one whose hair are blond and is always with neko

[Eugene will be grumbling about his phone notifs going off cause of this and that is what y/n wants]

(Can i have a jealous eugene and yuseong....? And you can decide whether eugene likes the reader or not, or whether yuseong likes her or not)

[a/n: omg if u do end up writing a story please tag me !! i would love to read it <3]

"That's funny. President Eugene always lectures us about keeping our phones on silent mode and yet his phone isn't."

After turning said silent mode on in his phone, Eugene slowly turned his head to smile at Eli. "Yes, well, this is a one time mistake. Why don't you try to remember to keep your remarks to yourself?"

The sharp tension stayed in the room even as the meeting continued, so when the meeting ended, it left Eugene in a somewhat bitter mood.

He decided to check who was texting him so much earlier, only to see it was you.

"What nonsense are they texting me now...?" As he read through the texts, he was originally amused but then began to feel... well, he refused to acknowledge the j-word. It was a childish emotion to him.

Softly exhaling, he texted back:

I have a nutritionist and whatnot on hand, I swear to you I eat well. You don't have to worry and my preferences mean little because often you and Yuseong pick things I like. Just continue what you're doing.

And about that boy... we may be similar in many ways but I've paid no attention to him. Also, no need for snarky remarks, I've had enough for the day.

You must know me so well if you knew I was going to reply, "Get him a gift and leave me alone." Just go on that date.

I'm glad we're such good friends you're happy to be insufferable towards me. And no, I'm not giving you the numbers of any of my subordinates.

Before Eugene closed out of his conversation with you, he felt a tap on his shoulder and just noticed Yuseong, who apparently had been quietly peering over his shoulder this whole time.

"What is it?" he asked his twin, who just frowned. It didn't take him long to realize why, and oddly enough he felt the slightest tinge of that j-word again. "Oh. If you're sad about our friend going on that date, feel free to make plans with them so they can't go. I can get you time off, if that's what you want."

Upon hearing his words, Yuseong eagerly nodded and Eugene took a mental note of it. Maybe he should hang out with you, too... but he didn't want to interrupt Yuseong, and he still had work to do. Another day, he supposed.

[nishloves]

moots &lt;3

despite being an e, I'm very awkward on social media and it's hard for me to interact with people who aren't my irl, but surprisingly I made so many friends here (even though we don't talk as much) and that makes me so happy 🥺🩷

noelle; @icyminghao

my first moot <3 I was so excited when you followed me back because I literally loved your works, we haven't talked in a long time but i genuinely adore you and hope you're doing well! and all the dedicated songs made me so happy that you think of me this dearly

sunny; @feat-sun

thankyou so much for supporting me<3 all your comments have uplifted me throughout my tumblr journey and motivated me to post my works, thankyou thankyou <3

kat!; @ksyongi

we just became moots and I don't know you that well but I seriously love your works and had almost squealed when I saw you followed me because you were one of the first accounts I had followed on tumblr<3 hope we can get to know each other better!

@dearharshii

my irl bestie <3

kat; @blackcat2907

I know we haven't interacted a lot, but I love seeing your posts on my dashboard (I used to love pjo too and now am getting back into it again!) I hope in future we can talk more and get to know each other!

kala; @jeonride 🐾

I remember following you because of your immaculate recs and i felt so honoured when you followed me back! almost like a reassurance that my fics are now getting better <3 hope we can get to know each other better soon!

sunny; @sunnylovespickles

I remember following you a long time ago because of kala's recommendations and then doing a happy dance when I saw you followed me back! we haven't interacted much but you seem like a beautiful person and I hope we can get to know each other better<3

aania; @aaniag

thankyou for supporting me so much! it really feels nice to think that you have an audience to write for and an audience to appreciate your works! all your interactions made me so happy <33

may; @som1ig

i can't stress just how much I loved your pjo series and being updated on it! you seem like a very chill person with a very cool vibe and I hope we can get to know each other better! <3 ( spoiler : we did and i love you sm more now aaaaaaa <33333333 )

aznik; @thepoopdokyeomtouched

our first interaction was both of us simping on desi svt and honestly, i found you to be a full vibe since then, thanks for supporting me sm, thanks for liking my fics and interacting with me and thanks for all the motivation you've unknowingly given to me, just- thank you for existing <3

aiden; @gojos-thot-patrol-main

my first anime moot and our first interaction was absolutely nuts- i still go back to #jjk soap opera tag and end up cackling because of how messy every single thing was- not to mention that all your sukuna fics are my guilty pleasure and i literally squealed when i got the notif that you followed me and we're moots now!!! hope we interact more and take care of yourself!

star; @starsstuddedsky

i just can't stress enough how much i am in love with your fics and specially wlih because i had been religiously following it- i love your works and i really really hope that we interact more <3

nora; @woozvc-main

we've just become moots and haven't really interacted a lot but i love your smaus and i'd love to talk with you more <3

mina; @alsktudy

gosh, i really think that your fics are so cute- i really appreciate all the comments, all the reblogs and all the interactions you bestow upon me and you're such an amazing and chill and fun person too! hope we talk more <3

sarah; @kkooongie

we haven't interacted much out of tag games but oh my god your works are so awesome- and your series are literally chef's kiss. awaiting all your upcoming works, you're amazing <3

[joopacabra]

have had a lot of feelings again so time to ramble them out

I’d like to give stranger a nice hug, or many ,, however many wives are in there, they all need hugs!

I am feeling quite happy fortunately! I am very glad I decided to post some of my art,, I really did not expect it to go noticed much , I have never done anything like this before (post things on the internet, let alone have presence at all) and the results of it have continued to astonish me.. I Need to express how extremely grateful I am to Anybody who liked or reblogged,, every time I saw one of those notifications I got even happier ..! reading through some of the tags some people put was so sweet.. I am seriously really touched …. I have been working hard to understand my own style and I believe I’ve finally started to figure it out, and seeing some of you compliment my style and how I drew genuinely makes me so happy…

it’s definitely motivated me to draw more and for once it’s made me proud of my own work,, I hope I’ll be able to learn and make more things that people like !! I have to take a break today though, I don’t feel too well as I didn’t sleep last night churning out that drawing and then being totally unable to sleep because of how I excited I felt every time my post was interacted with ..

that said, as much as I could I will stop gushing out my elation,, I don’t think this’ll really reach many people as usual- and that’s fine, I don’t usually tag my ramblings- but if you do see this, have a great day or night , and if you are someone who liked or reblogged my art, it seriously means soooo much to me..! I wish I could thank each of you individually for it.. <3

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

So I just finished part 4 of The Princess & The Playboy, and it was absolutely incredible! Seeing the notification that you posted genuinely made my day. I really liked the idea of having Y/N wear a version of Dean’s jersey on stage, it says just enough while still being able to maintain their privacy. I loved Y/N’s conversation with Sloane about everything with Eric, as well as her meeting Dean’s parents and Benny’s family. I also really love the small details like Benny having a big family. Those kinds of things, even the more subtle ones like the mention of Y/N’s periwinkle mug, it all just brings so much detail and realness to the world! As for the end of the chapter, I had a deep feeling that Sam and Max weren’t dead, yet the writing was so good that finding it out for sure still shocked me. I’m glad that at the very least they have each other and that they weren’t alone (seriously like they said, talk about a weird twist of fate). I can’t wait to see where this goes in so many different aspects of the plot, I’m excited to see Dean and Y/N grow together, I hope Sleric gets the happiness they deserve, I’m definitely looking forward to what Dean meeting Y/N’s parents may be like in comparison to what her experience was meeting his, and I cannot wait to see how Sam and Max’s plan unfolds, I’m hoping for a good ending on that one! You absolutely knocked it out of the park with this one, as you always do, overall this was such a good chapter in so many ways I don’t think I could even write them all down, so thank you for that!!

Omg thank you for this! (also hope you don't mind I hung onto this in my inbox for a little while for spoiler reasons)

I am REALLY excited to show the intertwining of these three plots and tackle some fun things for Dean/Reader & Eric/Sloane and delve into those boys backstories and their plan! Stuff's about to heat up in the best way! I felt like it was probably obvious that the brothers were still around but I didn't have a good way to hide that except kinda hit home that everyone aside from Dean and reader thinks they're dead lol. And we're going to keep getting Sam's POV from here on out!

I'm super looking forward to getting it down on paper how this will all culminate into what will be a very big scene with massive reprecussions!

[timaeusterrored]

ANDREW ANDREW ANDREW MY BELOVED SWEETHEART ANDREW!!!!!

you inspired me to name an OC onyx UwU they're gonna be my third spidersona UwU you've inspired me in so many ways, as a writer as well as a human being, and i felt like spreading some love to my friends. i don't know much about Onyx Way yet but i'm so excited to hear more when you're ready to share. this is absolutely not a call to action, i'm very proud of you for recognizing that you need a break and taking it. i hope it's going well, you're taking care of yourself, and you're beginning to feel better. sending much love and good vibes <3

(PS, my DMs are always open, i love seeing )

I don’t think you understand how badly I needed this. And also the fact that people remember Onyx’s existence makes me realize I make a bigger impact than I thought I did. It makes me so happy people remember him and I love YOU SO MUCH😭 you’re genuinely so amazing and have become honestly a bit of a safe place for me. I’ve been having a really bad time recently but seeing you in my DMs and notifications makes me so happy

I hope I can make more Onyx content one day, I don’t have much lore on him currently and sometimes I’m worried he’s too cringe because I take myself too seriously sometimes. You’re so sweet and nice and thank you for all your interest and headcanons and nice words🥺

[tojikai]

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO I CANT– NO! I SWEAR TO GOD NO 😭😭😭😭😭 IT CANT BE PLEASE NO my anxiety right now is like 📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈📈 PLEASE POR FAVOR お願いします WHATEVER LANGUAGE YOU WANT, I BEG YOU NO 😭😭😭😭

SERIOUSLY, this fic is messing too much w my emotions, i dont think i can take it anymore LMAO i got the notification i was already nervous, then i started reading and my heart was beating SO FAST and i now i feel like throwing up and crying damn kkkkkkkk /smiling through the tears/ you rly making me feel all sort of things, im sad but enjoying it too much to complain lol

OKAY. I need to be honest here: i read that ask someone said how they perceived each character and i MAY feel more empathetic to Satoru now lol (ormaybeimjustbiasedwhatever) truly happy to see him working on himself and everything else but bro??? c'mon¡!!!¡!! you shouldn't be so naive atp anymore pls she was even talking to the dragon when you got home, my love 😭😭😭 hopefully she wont get pregnant, or loses the baby, or gets arrested for touching someone w/o consent, or gets in a car accident and dies– anyways, there are soooo many ways it could so i will hope for the best while hoping for the worst too;;; the things you do to me, istg 🥲

Also, Toji's showing too many red flags lol i mean, i can kinda understand him but???? Nah, it's like he isn't even trying to listen and understand the reader 🧐 girl, just take your lil girl and run, all mens are bad atp lol go find geto suguru, he knows how to be a good girl's dad and is handsome too

Anyway, after this chapter i may or may not have wavered as Team Toji 👀 its a bit worrying tbh and im that type of person who thinks "one alarm's enough, im out bye~" so cant be hypocritical here and say i want reader to stay lol but i also dont want reader w gojo bc his hag of a mother is rly unsettling, dont think its a safe environment for her or yui,,, im thinking too much im stopping and let the worry for the next

AH JUST REMEMBERED STH!!! Cant help but feel happy that satoru's father backed him up against his mother 💛 wishing a nice future for this man too bc that woman is tOTALLY INSANE!! Who the hell talk like that abt baby trapping someone???? Damn,,, reader rly should have reported her or sth i feel like she'll keep causing trouble whilst out of jail 😭😭

Muito obrigada for this chapter, was rly a great experience (tho i felt anxious LOL) and actually it always is whenever i read something from you :) hope youre taking care of yourself and having a nice week, be well <3

satoru's father would always have his back. he's literally just there for satoru🥹 he lost his first born already, he's not letting anything happen to satoru too. and yeah, toji really got his supporters torn😭 where he's coming from is understandable tho, but in a rs, it always has to be mutual sooo... yeah, thank u so so much for the support <33 im happy u enjoyed itttt